#sometimes you just gotta decapitate your brother man

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here: 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Dean has Castiel pinned to the wall in a blink.

He’s disgusted and he feels dirty, and betrayed, and he’d rather Castiel had killed him 15 years ago.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” he hisses in Castiel’s face. Dean’s mind is whirling with thoughts, spinning in a hurricane, and he can’t make sense of much at this moment except John killed Cas’s dad, Cas has been stalking him for almost two decades, and now he wants Dean to help him become human?

Dean can’t even count the degrees of fucked up here.

“Dean,” Castiel grunts low, against the forearm over his windpipe. “You don’t have to trust me, you just have to help me.”

“I said, shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

Castiel clenches his jaw. He grabs at Dean’s shoulders and spins them around, much stronger and faster, and then they’re in the same position back at the bar, and Dean is willing his dick to fucking behave.

“I’ve got no reason to lie to you. It serves me nothing. I need your help, Dean. You’re the only one who can turn me. You and your brother have connections I don’t, spells I couldn’t get my hands on. I need you.”

“How do you know about Sam?” Dean bites out.

“I told you,” Castiel lets up a little, takes a single step back. “I’ve been checking in on you every few months since we met. I moved to Lebanon a few years back when I saw you were here.”

“You’re fucked up, dude. Why would you do that? My daddy kills your daddy and you think we’re friends?”

Castiel looks down, frowns, and Dean sees something real there. “I wanted to keep you safe. Your father, as weird as this may seem… Dean, he saved me from a much harsher existence. I guess I felt I owed it to him. As a thank you.”

Unprompted, Dean’s mind goes back to that night and he sees the bite marks, their ugly texture again, feels the weight on top of his hips pinning him down as dinner on the ground. He’s looking at Castiel and all he can think of is how he’s a monster. One of them.

But if Cas is a monster, just like his father before him, why was he grateful John practically made him an orphan? It occurs to Dean that he has no idea what Castiel’s dad made him do, and then it occurs to him that it’s so ugly he might not want to know.

Dean clears his throat and responds quietly, “Well, Mr. Winchester really appreciates it.” He waits until Castiel looks back up at him to ask: “You said you were half-human?”

“My mother,” Castiel nods, his face somber in an instant. “She raised me until her death and then my father found me. And he tried to make me like him for years, until your father. Until you.”

Dean realizes then that he feels pity, and a lot of it. He realizes that the Castiel he met at the bar might have been covering it up but it was there, and it’s here now. He feels a little breathless because this is something John’s journal can’t help him with. Here, in front of him, is a monster, asking not to be, acting like he isn’t. He’s more than one hundred percent sure no hunter in the history of hunting has ever gone through this before. Castiel is one of a kind.

“What are you, Cas?”

Castiel swallows, turning and walking over to sit on the couch. Dean stays leaning against the wall, needing something real that will convince him to not kill the other (half) man in the room with him until he fully explains.

Castiel’s eyes are blue in all the ways they can be. “I don’t know,” he responds. “I just know I can’t be like this anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“It means that you’re my only chance of living for the rest of my life. Otherwise, I’d rather die.”

Dean knows that look too well, sees it in himself sometimes, and before he can stop himself, he asks, “What the hell did you do, Cas?”

Castiel sighs, looking like his exhaustion runs bone-deep. He swallows, opens his mouth, closes it.

He takes a moment and tries again. “I almost killed a man. He was homeless, and I was trying to help. I bent down to give him some money, and I hadn’t eaten anything of real substance in months…” Castiel’s throat works uselessly. “I guess I lost control,” he finishes hoarsely.

Dean's brain is not connected to his mouth and it’s working on its own to ask the worst questions it can. But Dean tries not to feel too bad, because Castiel is a monster, as he prompts, “What kind of food do you eat?”

Castiel presses his knuckles to his eyelids, rubbing them. “I’ve never killed anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve only had deceased bodies. With being half-human, I found I don’t need to eat as much, but if I want to keep living I need to eat eventually. The longest I’ve gone without feeding was 7 and a half months and I was on the brink of death by then.”

“You almost killed me that night.”

Castiel pulls his hand away from his eyes and glares up at Dean. “Emphasis on almost.”

Despite himself and the situation, Dean chuckles. Maybe it’s Castiel’s half-human side, maybe Dean’s still drunk, but it feels easy. It’s exactly like it was back at the bar yet everything’s changed. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave with Castiel this time. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave a decapitated body behind, either.

In this state of questioning, he decides to sit down next to Castiel on the couch.

“So that’s the why now. Why us?”

Castiel tilts his head, narrows his eyes. “You’re the Winchesters. Surely, you must know what that means within your own circle. Sam is a great sorcerer, and you’re the best hunter in history.”

Dean feels his cheeks heat up a little, embarrassed. “Sheesh, I thought you stopped the sweet talkin’ act at the bar, Cas. We’re just guys doin’ our best. We’re not all that.”

Castiel stares into his soul as he disagrees, “You’re worth more than you think.”

Dean wants to kiss him. He does. He doesn’t have air in his lungs because he’s never heard that from anyone before, and maybe the only source of oxygen left is Cas’s lips. Dean wants to breathe. But he grips his kneecaps tightly, and holds himself back.

He stands up again, clears his throat. Dean doesn’t know why, but he believes Cas. He’s gonna help him. If he can’t help him then…

“Dude,” he turns back to Castiel, crossing his arms. “Whatever happens, you gotta leave us alone after this. This stalking thing is just…”

“I understand, Dean,” Castiel says gravely, resolved. “In any scenario, you’ll never have to deal with me again after this. I swear it.”

****

All in all, it’s not surprising in the least that Sam was excited about the situation Dean found himself in.

He called Sam in the middle of the night, waking him up, and after the grumpy moose-witch sleepily groaned his frustrations out through the phone, Dean told him segments of the truth and what he planned to do. Sam didn’t need to know that Cas had been stalking them, or that they’d briefly met as teens, or that they made out before Cas kidnapped him. Sam just needed to agree to say some of his Latin crap, wave his hands around a little, and try to cure Cas.

Was it really curing if Castiel had never been… evil in the first place?

Dean didn’t want to think about monster ethics, he just wanted to see if Sam could help him solve the problem, so he could be rid of it. Getting rid of Castiel seemed like the best thing to do so he wouldn’t have to think about the mess his dad made. If he had just killed him back then, he wouldn’t be dealing with this now! Dean was having a tug of war in his brain, one side already swinging a machete at Cas’s neck, the other bringing him to the bunker to see where this went, to make him normal, and maybe give him a life.

He hunted to help people, and in a fucked up way, that’s what this was.

But this was also completely unprecedented. Dean didn’t and wouldn’t have anyone else to tell him what is the right or wrong answer. He had to figure this out himself. He had to go with his gut.

Well, his gut told him that Castiel seemed like a good person that just had the wrong blood running through his veins. His nature was good, no matter how much they tried to nurture him to be his worst.

Dean’s evidence? Apart from an excellent guessing streak and a trusty gut feeling that always got him out of the shit at the last minute, Castiel had confessed to have been watching him and Sam for… yeah, 15 whole years. If he wanted them dead, he could have done it by now. That’s just a fact.

Another fact was how… human Castiel was. Is. He is half-human. Dean has to remind himself that when Castiel effortlessly lifts up his living room couch. He also has to remind himself Castiel is half-monster when he delicately hands him a cup of warm tea. Dean only grimaces at it a little, and then he blows on it once, downs it impatiently, and they leave for the bunker. He ignores the burning in the back of his throat and on his tongue, and he lets Led Zeppelin fill the silence on the drive back.

Dawn is still breaking when they get to the bunker. Dean has not slept in over a day, and the back of his head is swollen, and he just wants his bed. He can wake up and deal with Cas after he gets his four hours.

Sam is practically jumping up and down, eyes wide and alert and assessing as he meets Castiel, like he’s the coolest science-experiment-gone-wrong he’s ever seen. Dean feels bad for Cas, who simply stands there in that trenchcoat and lets Sam stumble through asking his questions and studying him. Dean has to remind himself yet again that Castiel is a monster. Then he’s off to bed.

****

Maybe it was the borderline concussion, but Dean’s body ends up needing a good six fucking hours, and he wakes up like the birds are singing him awake. He’s not even that bothered by the thought that there is a human-eating monster in his house. Maybe the night made his newest problem seem worse than it is.

But maybe the monster problem isn’t it. The actual problem would be Dean’s attraction to said monster.

Castiel has stripped down to just his white collared shirt, sleeves rolled up. No tie. They’re in the basement when he finds them, where Cas is sitting on a dentist-looking chair, and Sam is barely fitting in a normal chair right next to him. There are various small vials on top of the table behind them, where a bunch of bowls and needles also sit. Dean feels a little sick at the sight.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Sam is so engrossed in the conversation with Castiel, he jumps a little, blinking, and then he looks at Dean. “Oh! Mornin’ Dean. I got some blood samples from Castiel, and we were just talking about possible things we could use them for. Like spells and such we could try. He knows his stuff,” Sam can’t hide the surprise in his voice. “He’s actually studied a lot of witchcraft.”

Dean nods. When he looks at Castiel, he’s struck back by his little smile and his bright eyes. He looks… excited. Dean feels something behind his ribs twist.

“Good morning, Dean. How is your head? How did you sleep?”

“His head?” Sam whips his head to Castiel, furrowing his brows.

Subconsciously, Dean brings a hand up to the back of his head. “It’s fine.” Then to Sam, “I, uh. I backed into a tall shelf over at Cas’s. ‘S nothing.”

Castiel seems utterly relieved to hear, and Sam just shrugs after a few seconds of staring at Dean. He goes back to sealing the vial in his hand.

But Dean is looking at Castiel again, and Castiel at Dean. Dean has to swallow to start breathing again. He wants to kick Sam out and jump on Cas. He wants to sit down and ask him if he’s okay, how he’s feeling about being poked and prodded at (even if he said he’d do anything for his goal). Hell, he wants to hold his hand and put a bandaid on him. He wants to get the fuck out of there, where the air is suddenly too thin, and where he sees Castiel’s face fall after his own crumbles.

[fogsrollingin]

Title: in this house, ch 2 Author: fogsrollingin Fandom: Supernatural Story details: Sam & Dean, rated PG-13, 2k words. Summary: getting out of this house. My next entry for @whumptober2020! Prompts filled are no. 14 brand & no. 15 magical healing & no.31 torture A/N: all my amazing readers who let me know they wanted more of this story (when I’d planned it to just be a very intense one-shot, here we gooooo! 😆 Chapter 1 on Tumblr || Full story available on AO3 || Fanfiction.net too || INCREDIBLE art inspired by this fic: Hurt Sam by @midnightsilver on tumblr, uncensored version on pillowfort and now also on AO3!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ in this house ch2 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Furniture crashed overhead, Dean's team of hunters fighting, feet pounding over the floorboards, the sounds of screaming, hissing vampires. Sometimes their sounds would stop abruptly, then a heavy thunk to indicate their decapitated melons had just hit the floor and it was like music to Dean's ears. Macabre as it may be, it was a dream come true right now as he huddled in this cage with his brother shaking and clinging to him out of his mind with fear.

Sam had cleared up enough to say his name though. That was a start. Dean thought about their next moves. Or tried to. He blinked his eyes, shook his head, summoning the wherewithal to get brain's gears back online.

Damn it, you planned for this! Dean scolded himself. The harder he focused, the stronger this rushing feeling bubbled out overwhelming him, filling his senses up with cotton and getting him too jittery to think straight.

"Fuck," Dean muttered, hauling his shivering, traumatized little brother up against him closer. Sam went with it. Dean ducked his own head into his brother's disgusting hair. They were wasting time. He kept telling himself that to spur himself into action but... there were so many things, so many ways Dean could help Sam and as he ran down the mental list of them he just didn't know which came first.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that hugging each other in the cage like they weren't free, like Dean had simply joined his brother enslaved inside. It felt like a purgatory Dean could live with. After everything they'd been through, to just be together even in that cage was enough.

"Hey, okay guys," a low voice smoothed over them. Sam didn't react but Dean recognized Mallory's voice. She was a medic turned hunter that'd arrived last week with her friend, Gerald. She hovered over the cage's door.

She moved and Dean couldn't see, her dark brown skin and black outfit perfect camouflage. "Don't!" Dean begged. Sam scuttled closer. Dean didn't know what he was begging for. Don't come into the cage? Don't shatter this moment? Don't you touch him?

Thundering steps of so many people erupted behind her. Sam yelped and Dean grunted, clutching Sam back.

"Stop!" Mallory ordered and the feet coming down the stairs did as they were told. Dean heard some jubilance in their tones, wanting to clear the basement of these blood suckers and high five Dean. Instead Mallory's voice rang out crystal clear. "Go clear the rest of the house. Burn the bodies out back. I want Gerald down here though. Gerald?"

"Yeah, here," a man replied softly, an easy gait stepping down the stairs past the others who'd started making their way back up. He appeared next to Mallory and crouched down with her to talk. His skin was a little lighter than hers' so Dean could make him out in the dark better. He was biting his nails looking at them, brows furrowed with worry.

"I'd like you to stay down here. Make sure no one's in the other cages."

"You got it," he murmured softly. He got up slowly in deference, it seemed, and moved away.

"All right. Dean?" Mallory asked.

"Y-yeah," Dean gruffed from the human ball they'd made, the two of them curled around each other so tight now. Dean didn't want it to end but somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminding himself that Mallory and Gerald were the best, his favorites. He couldn't remember exactly why. His brain was fried right now but he responded to her voice.

Something slid into the cage out of the corner of his eye, Mallory pushing his backpack inside within reach of him. The first aid kit was in there, a water bottle, some of Sam's clothes, hot chemical packs, an emergency blanket. Dean had packed everything he could think of.

"Do you want me to come in?" Mallory asked evenly.

Dean stared at the backpack and shook his head.

"Can I walk you through this?"

Dean's face screwed up and he let out a sob. He nodded though.

"Okay Dean, it's okay. You're doing great. You've got your brother. He's safe now. You're gonna take care of him. You two will be home eating takeout at a shitty motel in no time," she lied with so much charm and Dean was nodding in agreement, engaged, growing more and more aware.

"Now what you gotta do first is lay Sam down and examine him, Dean. You gotta know how hurt he is. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, come on Dean, you gotta see."

Dean nodded to Mallory, his face still buried in Sam's hair. "Okay, okay Sammy, you ready?"

Sam shuddered but let Dean gently pry him free until he was sitting. Dean wasn't going to make him lie down.

"Sam, where does it hurt?" Dean asked stiffly. Mallory waited behind him patiently and he felt better she wasn't pressuring him. Dean might have had a minor freakout just now but he still had the last say on how to handle his brother. 

Sam shivered and shook. "It doesn't."

"What?"

"Hungry."

Dean heard Mallory scrambling at the backpack, the sound of little pretzel bags crinkling before one landed next to Sam's feet. Sam grabbed it and tore into it.

A rolling sound and Dean turned to see Mallory had pushed the water bottle to tumble its way to them. Dean grabbed it and put it within Sam's reach.

"Sam... can I take a look at you?" Dean asked hesitantly as Sam wolfed down the last of the pretzels. Mallory threw another one and without acknowledging her Sam pounced on the second helping.

"They'd heal me. After the torture. Magic." He spoke quietly between crumbly breaths. "Except here." He twisted and lifted his leg to show his right thigh.

Dean tilted his head to see, Mallory squinted and leaned forward.

Dean swore. Mallory gasped.

"Sammy what the fuck is that?"

"It's a brand," Sam replied wetly.

Gerald came back just then, his steps silent and graceful. "Nobody."

Mallory took Gerald's hand and squeezed. "Could you tell the others to go? These two-"

"I understand. I'll tell 'em," Gerald whispered. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything." He squeezed her hand back and made his way.

Dean turned back to his brother. "Sammy, can I-?" he asked as he moved in to look at the wound again. Sam nodded and leaned against the cage wall for balance as Dean lifted his right knee up to see again. If Sam was embarrassed by Dean's proximity to his twig and berries he didn't show it. He'd slowed his snacking, interspersing pretzel bites with gulps from the water bottle. He seemed dazed, but it was a definite level up from what he'd been before.

Dean ducked and examined Sammy's leg. He clenched his jaw so as not to disturb whatever shell-shocked peace Sam was in right now but damned if he didn't want to curse up a storm right now.

All Sam's leg hair had been burned off, in its place deep carvings in a design Dean couldn't even begin to make out with so much scabbing and swollen skin marring it. All the cuts had needed stitches but instead they'd been reopened repeatedly. It was red, moist with pus, clearly infected.

Dean set Sam's leg down and felt his forehead. He glanced back at Mallory. "He needs antibiotics."

"He need a hospital?"

Dean got himself up into a kneel, put his hands on his knees and stared at his voracious brother chowing down on a fourth packet (if he'd kept count correctly) of pretzels. "No. No I can take him, I think."

Mallory scooted in and Dean let her. She was holding a huge white square of gauze the size of his hand. There were ugly brown lines glazed on it where she'd applied the antiseptic. Dean looked at her for a second. She looked up and understood what he needed.

"We're gonna bandage the injury so we can get him dressed. And then we're gonna get him out of this cage and then we're gonna move him out of this house."

Dean's eyes watered and he nodded. She gave him the medical tape.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean muttered to himself, getting into position. "Sammy, you ready?"

"Yeah."

Dean pressed the bandage gently along Sam's flayed flesh and Sam only whimpered once, breathed heavily through the rest of it as Dean taped. Dean knew it meant his pain tolerance had heightened. The heavy weight of that knowledge settled sick in his stomach. It would never go away. "So good, good job Sammy, so brave, you got this," Dean babbled, not paying attention to what he was even saying anymore.

The instant he was done, Mallory handed him Sam's black cotton sweatpants he'd brought and he helped Sam into them. Next was a plain white t-shirt. Sam moaned and reached for Dean a couple times. He'd fall against his chest for a break to catch his breath and Dean would hold him through it, rub his back, tell him he smelled awful.

They scooted Sam out of the cage, taking care not to jostle him. Dean felt lighter as they crossed the threshold, the repulsive air of a torture dungeon still somehow fresher now they were out of that godforsaken cage.

"Gonna have this thing melted down," Dean gruffed.

He got under Sam's arm, Mallory under the other, and together they counted to ten to lift Sam up so he could walk.

Sam groaned and weakly placed his feet flat on the floor, a valiant attempt to take some of his weight but they were lifting him too fast.

Mallory and Dean were softly congratulating him as he rose almost to full height. He gave them a strained smile before closing his eyes and passing out.

Dean's alarmed shouts for Sam to wake up again mingled with Mallory's yells for Gerald as they both struggled to give Sam a controlled fall.

Gerald pounded down the stairs and stopped at the tableau before him. Mallory out of breath and stressed as she refastened her pony tail with hands trembling with adrenaline. Dean hovered over his brother solicitously. The kid was clothed now which was a plus for Gerald, yet unconscious, a new minus.

"We need some muscle, sugar," Mallory explained. "Sam passed out."

Gerald came around and crouched down on Sam's other side across from Dean. "Well now I'm really happy you put clothes on the kid," he joked good-naturedly. Dean huffed. Gerald looked down. "So this is your little brother, huh?"

"Yep." Dean's chin quivered. He brushed Sam's hair off his face.

Gerald patted his back a few times. "C'mon, get it together."

Dean nodded, rubbed his face. "Right, okay, uh. We gotta do a two-person carry because he's injured. Back of his right thigh is fucked up."

"Got it."

Gerald got Sam's broad shoulders, Dean his brother's long legs, and together they tromped up the stairs.

"Should burn the whole house down," Gerald muttered as they hit the landing. Mallory followed up. She opened the emergency blanket and let it fall over Sam as Dean and Gerald carried him through the house. There were no bodies, no heads, only the blood stains in the grooved, pockmarked floorboards stood testament to the righteous slaughter carried out less than an hour ago.

"I couldn't agree more," Dean said as he watched Gerald fold into the backseat of the Impala, carrying Sam in with him. The emergency blanket crinkled and fell to the ground. As soon as Sam's butt cleared the seat, Dean set his feet down. He took Sam's shoulders and let Gerald get out through the other side.

"Wait," Sam whispered. Dean froze and looked down.

"Sam? Sammy? You with us?"

Sam's eyes rolled under his lids. He swallowed and nodded. "Wait."

"For what?"

"To burn it. I wanna..." Sam wheezed and coughed. "be there. For it."

A rush of relief slipped down Dean's spine and spread out, warming him.

"Damn straight, little brother. You'll throw the first match."

Sam chuckled thickly. "Yeah." His head fell onto Dean's shoulder, passed out again. Dean kept his arm around Sam even when he noticed the kid was drooling on him.

They were gonna be okay.

Fin

A/N: Marking this as complete again but hey who knows I might tack on another chapter - that branding is a mystery that might be worth exploring 👀😆

Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/kudos/reblog/vote/give to charity on my behalf (hahah) if you can spare the time

Happy Ides of October! 🎃🍂  xoxo ~ Alex.

[fractempyreal]

* romance headcanons.

name:          Vergil

nickname:          He has titles , but nicknames tend to be ones that he doesn’t care for or ones that his brother gives him .  Verge ,  Vergy ,  Porcupine ,  Mr. no-fun-allowed ,  etc.

gender:           male. he/him.

romantic orientation:          demiromantic . Love is something he avoids at all costs ,  finding it a waste of his time along with posing as an obstacle in his path of obtaining his ultimate goal for power .  For him to develop an interest in someone ,  much less actually fall in love with them is quite an undertaking .  For the most part ,  he won’t even stay around a person long enough to even develop an interest to begin with .

preferred pet names:           He doesn’t really much care for pet names ,  but through a lot of talking ,  he tends to like the affectionate ones that Grimmjow uses for him .

relationship status:           Taken by one ( 1 ) cat man across all verses and AU’s .

favorite canon/fandom ship:         Tentatively ?   LadyxVergil as a fandom ship ,  but only with the proper development rather than just typical ship hunger of ‘ they breathed at each other so they gotta be a thing ‘ .  This is just for Vergil at least ,  other ships I can mention somewhere else .

favorite crossover ship:           In truth my favorite crossover ship with Vergil is the one that I have right now with Jarvia’s Grimmjow .  There’s a lot that’s been put into it and it’s become so organic in a way unlike any other ship I’ve had with anyone else that it no matter how much time passes ,  I still get giddy when people ask me questions about it ,  or have people compliment the ship ; ;

opinion on true love:          He doesn’t care for it nor does he seek to find it if it does exist .  Love is a human emotion ,  and  it is something he believes to be pointless in obtaining .  He sees those that believe in it ,  and how each time they’re proven to be the greater fool for having thought it obtainable .  He doesn’t have much of a positive outlook on it if I’m being honest .  At least ,  that’s how he views it in the beginning .  After he himself does fall in love ,  while he doesn’t necessarily change his stance on it ,  it kind of becomes an exception  (  but that’s also due to the fact that it’s managed to hold strong after 20+ years after he he first disappeared ) .  

Otherwise ?  If he hadn’t entered a relationship before his death/brainwashing/death/dying/death/resurrection  ( in that order mind you )  etc . ,  then his views on it would have remained the same and not to mention he’d still very much view it as a distraction ,  a weakness ,  and a sign of naïveté . 

opinion on love at first sight:         Nope .  Absolutely ridiculous .  Like above ,  points entirely to complete naïveté and the ridiculousness of humanity .  He does not believe in love at first sight at all ,  and he will more than likely show his disgust and disregard you entirely but not before making some snide remark on how pathetically vacuous you are in believing such a foolish notion .  

how ‘romantic’ are they?:           Not very .  He’s very withdrawn in terms of romance even when he is partnered with someone .  He has difficulty voicing how he feels about someone ,  and even with action ,  he tends to stop himself before he really shows any outward affection .  This DOES depend on how long the relationship has been going on and how it’s developed .  In the start ,  he’s most definitely slow to display romantic affection ,  though in the case of his current ship . . .  after many years have passed ,  he’s become slightly better ,  though mostly it still really only comes through in more subtle acts .  He’s not about to take you out to a fancy restaurant and send you random bouquets ,  but he might just linger a little longer after a kiss ,  or close talk you with a faint smile on his lips .  If you do something stupid or get yourself in a sticky situation ?  He’s probably going to get you out of that situation before you’re found out .  You know ,  stuff like that .   He’ll ensure that his partner is happy in any way that he can achieve it .

ideal physical traits:           He doesn’t really pay much mind to such things ,  seeing that physicality doesn’t lend to him actually being interested much less attracted to someone .

ideal personality traits:         Confidence .  While not necessarily cockiness ,  he doesn’t mind a degree of self-assurance in a person along with one that’s not afraid to speak their mind .  While he’s not all too keen on being questioned in his methods ,  he can respect a person that has the guts to actually stand up to waht he might say OR  what someone else might say .  He doesn’t always show that he likes how driven a person can be  (  because that’s also another aspect that he finds rather attractive ,  someone that has their own goals and work to eventually attain them  ) ,  but it is something that at times will pique his interest in someone in terms of what their motivation is for having set such a goal ,  though he’d rather observe rather first rather than ask and have them know instantly that he’s even DEVELOPED any kind of interest in them .  Despite that ,  he is someone that rather prefers someone that ,  is not only capable of being confident ,  but also comfortable in moments of silence .  

unattractive physical traits:           Filth ,  someone that sits in their own squalor without even the slightest care to put any kind of self-care into themselves and doesn’t even think to bathe themselves .  Unpleasant odors quickly picked up by a sensitive nose ,  it deters him from even interacting with the person .  Also ,  if one doesn’t even put forth any effort in their appearance or presentation .  If you’re dressed in rags and reek to high heaven . . .  He’s not even going bother looking your way .

unattractive personality traits:         Brash decision making .  Immaturity .  If you act little more than a child does ,  rushing into things without thinking through or acting just as loud and as annoying one ,  he’s really not going to much like you in the slightest bit .  Not to mention that if you’re extremely cocky WITHOUT ANYTHING TO BACK IT UP ,  he’s going to view you as nothing more than a waste of space and a whole lot of hot air .  It perturbs him ,  and continuously acting this way around him or towards him will most likely result with decapitation .  He does not like people that just lay down and roll over for everything either ,  having as much personality as that of a LIMP ,  WET RAG  isn’t going to get you anywhere with him .  Not to mention if you’re a person that’s constantly trying to view him as a good person or see the good in other people  (  trying to convince them or change them really tends to piss him off too ) ,  he is very much a man set in his ways and if you’re sitting there telling him that he can go off and pick roses somewhere and frolic through a field of wheat ,  he’ll end up offing you because he finds you downright fucking annoying .

ideal date:           He’s not one to plan extravagant dates with his s/o ,  definitely the type to plan things at home or go out somewhere nice like a quiet park or a more secluded location that he finds pleasant to spend time at .  Sometimes ,  he actually doesn’t mind if his partner chooses the location ,  though how he acts is solely dependent on WHAT it is that his s/o has planned ,  though typically they’ll know enough already to know what places would get a better response from him .  He’s not a fan of crowded ,  loud places .  For him ,  the date is more special if it’s shared between him and his s/o ,  so he’s not about to go clubbing with them .  He also does NOT like going to bars because he’s a lightweight and he’d be completely shitfaced after the second drink .  He doesn’t like making a fool out of himself ,  and that’s exactly what would happen if he were to drink .  

do they have a type?:        Not necessarily ?  He has preferences I guess ,  but he doesn’t really ‘check anyone out’  if they have a specific appearance or air around them .  He’s really so indifferent towards people that getting him to even notice you to begin with is a feat in of itself .

average relationship length:         Considering that he’s only ever been in one relationship ?  He’s like a fucking penguin .  If you manage to land him as a partner to begin with ,  then he’s completely monogamous ,  and loyal only to you in a sense .  His goals will take priority ,  and if you’re not someone that’s constantly demanding his affection/attention ,  then having a relationship with him is rather low maintenance .  If not ,  then it’s more than likely to crumble within a few weeks to days .  Though this is most definitely dependent on whether or not there’s even any romantic feelings returned on his side .  

preferred non-sexual intimacy:         Existing together in each other’s presence is the overarching one .  Cooking ,  reading together ,  sleeping in the same bed ,  he’s not one for idle talk ,  but if you’re okay with silence ,  then that’s something that will typically hang between one another unless there’s something that needs to be said .  Though on that note ,  he actually doesn’t mind talking about random things here and there . 

commitment level:           His commitment to someone is absolutely no joke .  Like I mentioned ,  he’s basically a penguin in the sense that if he does happen to actually enter a relationship with someone  (  where affections/romantic affections are equally reciprocated  ) ,  then there’s little that will come between him and his s/o .  It’s unyielding ,  unshakable ,  AND HE WOULD NEVER BOTHER GIVING ANYONE A SECOND LOOK  that’s not his s/o .  Even if he’s being directly flirted to ,  his gaze will actually seek out the physical location of his s/o without fail ,  and he’ll push past people to get to them .

opinion of public affection:         He’s hesitant on PDA .  Most often times ,  it will be his partner to initiate any kind of PDA between the two ,  as he’s not keen on public displays of affection towards one another  (  and that’s just overall .  He’s not very comfortable with being affectionate towards others  ) .  It takes him a bit of convincing ,  but he would eventually hold his partner’s hand and potentially press a kiss to their temple .  Over-exaggerated  acts are ones that he avoids as much as he can ,  along with most other affectionate acts  (  I.e. Heavily making out ,  kisses in general ,  hugs ,  sweet talking one another . . . ) .  

past relationships?:           Outside of the ship with Grimmjow ?  None .

tagged by: @breselin  ( thanks for making me suffer like this 😩 ) tagging:  @destructivour, @fourfolded, @maljefe, @grdna, @svartastr, @ahazath, @incnspcuous​, @stellamris​ ( for V or any other muse! ), @caliburnt, @nekroii, @bloominghands,  @extremepath​ ( for your current strongest muse :> ), @stylunt | @seenstars ( or any other blog ),  @inanis-coronam, @sampatii, @hopewrought | @frcgment, @fralduke, @abyssleapt, @seiyros​, and anyone else that wants to, steal it from me! 

[samclownchester]

Supernatural Rewatch 02x03

Bloodlust

(Next Episode | Masterlist | Previous Episode)

Hooray more vampires

FRICK IS THAT BENNY

OH MY GOSH

*quick google later*

So, it is the same actor but this character is named Eli. I think it would’ve actually been cooler if they just kept it the same character, but this works too.

Alright, lets talk about what we learn about the boys in this episode. Firstly, it’s really weird to me that Sam and Dean are so ignorant to the Hunter community

DEAN You seem to know a lot about our family.

GORDON Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk.

DEAN No, we don't, actually.

GORDON I guess there's a lot your dad never told you, huh?

Why did John keep Sam and Dean so removed from other hunters? We know that they knew Bobby, and we also hear about other people like Pastor Jim and Deacon (although Deacon’s not a hunter) so we know that Sam and Dean grew up knowing their dad’s friends, but they never really interacted with the larger world of hunters. Maybe it’s because this wasn’t the life John wanted for his sons, maybe he felt that he should keep them away from the influence of people like Gordon, that maybe they would have a better shot at a normal life if they didn’t get too connected to the world of Hunters. Either way, it makes me feel like they must have felt very isolated growing up. We learn in season 15 that Dean did have a hunting buddy while Sam was in college (Lee) but I guess they still didn’t know much about the hunting community.

Whatever John’s reasons, during the conversation it’s clear that Dean is struggling with the memory of his father. He is aware that there is a lot their dad never told them, not only about the hunting community, but also about Sam, and Azazel’s plans for him. Dean tells this little anecdote from his teenage years to Gordon:

DEAN ... So. I pick up this crossbow. And I hit that ugly sucker with a silver-tipped arrow right in his heart. Sammy's waiting in the car, and uh, me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there and looking into the fire, and I'm thinking to myself, I'm sixteen years old. Most kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I'm seeing things that they'll never even know. Never even dream of. So right then, I just sort of -

GORDON Embraced the life?

When Sam was 12 he was still being told to wait in the car instead of participating in hunts. How old was Dean when he was expected to hunt? Dean was 6 or 7 when his dad took him shooting for the first time (we find out in a later episode). Just another example of how Dean was expected to grow up much faster than his brother.

When Dean tells this story, it’s evident in his face and tone that it’s not a happy memory. It seems like “embraced the life” is not the phrase Dean would have used, but something more like “accepted my fate.” This isn’t the story of 16 year old realizing he’s special, it’s one of a kid realizing he will never be normal.

This episode is another that really highlights the difference between the brothers and their approach to hunting:

DEAN What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.

SAM No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!

In fact, Sam’s differences are highlighted often throughout this episode; he says that “decapitations aren’t exactly [his] idea of a good time,” Gordon says it “doesn’t seem like you’re brothers much like us.” We are repeatedly being told that Sam is not what a hunter is supposed to be. Gordon comments on how Sam is different, implying that he and Dean are the same, and with this interaction there’s this idea that Gordon understands Dean, possibly more than Sam does.

DEAN …I can't talk about this to Sammy. You know, I gotta keep my game face on. But, uh, the truth is I'm not handling it very well. Feel like I have this -

GORDON Hole inside you? And it just gets bigger and bigger and darker and darker? Good. You can use it. Keeps you hungry. Trust me. There's plenty out there needs killing, and this'll help you do it. Dean, it's not a crime to need your job.

He knows what it’s like to have that hole inside you. But later, when Sam and Dean are arguing, Sam says

SAM You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.

As much as Dean tries to hide it from Sam, Sam understands him. He sees the hole. It also shows that Gordon fundamentally misunderstands Dean. He advises that he use that grief to fuel his hunting, but we know that Dean has never really cared for revenge. Revenge is John and Sam’s game, but Dean is only in this for family. So where Gordon thinks the hole in Dean’s life could be filled with killing monsters, Sam knows that Dean is looking to fill that hole with family. (He says earlier that he knows Dean is trying to make Gordon a replacement for their dad). Dean wants someone older and more experienced to tell him what to do, to tell him what’s right and wrong, because that’s what he’s always had, and Sam knows that’s the hole that needs filling, not some drive for vengeance or violence or whatever Gordon thinks.

 But, there are ways that Dean sees himself in Gordon, and it scares him. We had a quote from him in Season 1 about how he scares himself sometimes, with the things he’s wiling to do, and we return to that idea in this episode; except this time he’s starting to question the whole world view he grew up with

DEAN I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up.

SAM What do you mean?

DEAN Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives.

SAM Okay.

DEAN What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us...

SAM Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.

DEAN I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.

SAM You didn't kill Lenore.

DEAN No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.

SAM Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters.

This little interaction gives us a few interesting insights; first of all, we see Sam defending their dad, saying he “did the best he could” (just like one of the last things John said to Sam before he died, as I mentioned in a previous episode). We know that Sam is struggling with guilt over not having been a good enough son while his dad was alive.

Dean, on the other hand, is finally breaking out of the box John built for him. It’s interesting to me because the two brothers are in very different places. Sam has known for a long time that he disagrees with John, so it doesn’t bother him too much to realize that John could have been wrong, and that he could have had them kill things that didn’t deserve it. Dean, on the other hand, has always taken his dad’s word as gospel. He always trusted that John knew best, come whatever. So, realizing, and having proof in this episode, that not every supernatural being is inherently evil, is really throwing him. It’s a hard thing, to realize that something you have believed and acted on your whole life might not be true.

The other important thing we learn from this interaction is that Sam’s opinion matters to Dean. He trusts him. Dean admits here that he wanted to kill the vampires, but he didn’t. He set aside what he felt was right for what his brother asked him to do, placing Sam’s opinion over his own. Now we all know this isn’t always going to be the case, but in this episode at least, Dean trusted Sam’s judgement.

EDIT: I forgot to mention that Gordon killing his sister when she turned into a vampire is foreshadowing for the idea of needing to kill a loved one when they become a monster which is a very relevant theme throughout all 15 seasons of the show. 

[theimpossiblescheme]

“Where do you come from, where do you go?  What is your scene, baby, we just gotta know!”

I said I was gonna make an appreciation post for Yvonne Craig’s ’66 Batgirl, so… here she is, Barbara Gordon, that Dominoed Dare-Doll out to strike at the heart of crime!

The network wanted to introduce Barbara Gordon to the show almost immediately after her “Million-Dollar Debut” in the comics, and being renewed for a third season gave them the perfect opportunity.  After airing a short presentation to introduce the character, featuring Babs in a much pointier mask fighting off Killer Moth and his goons, they were given the green light to properly usher her into the show.  The rest, of course, is network television history; and while a lot of people can agree that the third season of the show was largely a series of missteps, Batgirl was definitely not one of them.

What makes Babs so interesting in this show is that she’s the perfect demonstration of how femininity and badassery don’t have to be mutually exclusive.  She’s naturally a very warm, charming, and eminently helpful person who goes out of her way to look after her family and her community. She’s a bookworm who works at the Gotham City library and studied almost every subject.  She’s very much a daddy’s girl who almost never fights with her father and regularly invites him over to watch TV with her.  She loves to cook and entertain guests.  She loves classical music and museums of all kinds.  She dresses like Jackie Kennedy at a thrift shop.  She loves to surf and swim and has a thing for charming jocks.  She keeps a gorgeous apartment full of trinkets and vintage furniture with a little parakeet named Charlie to keep her company.  And she visibly wears striking eye makeup even under her Batgirl cowl.

For God’s sake, her Batgirl motorcycle has ruffles on it!

But absolutely none of that takes away from what a devastatingly competent crimefighter she is.  In fact, she uses her reputation as an underestimated Girly-Girl ™ to her best advantage, similar to the way Babs does in Batgirl: Year One.  People tend to not pay her any mind because she’s a girl who can’t possibly do anything interesting in her spare time?  Gives her plenty of time to build her own Batgirl Cave in the back room of her apartment, complete with a revolving wall for ease of access to her costume station, an early computer and switchboard with a Lucite screen, a forensic chemistry set, and an elevator lift for her motorcycle!

People expect her to be soft and meek?  Perfect opportunity to take people by surprise by scaring them out of her apartment, even out of costume, and fully turn the tables on them as Batgirl, the fierce bruiser who loves nothing more than a sharp verbal takedown followed by a good scrap!  Punching isn’t a ladylike thing to do?  No rule saying you can’t ballet-kick their noses up into their brains and grab the nearest blunt object to use as an improvised weapon!

Woman crimefighters aren’t expected to be as clever as the Dynamic Duo?  Time to surprise everyone by using common sense and book smarts to solve cases instead of Bat-Deduction and breaking out of deathtraps by being genuinely resourceful rather than relying on deus ex machina (she does get the occasional assist, but this girl freed herself from self-tightening garotte wire.  That counts for something.)! 

Every time someone on the show tries to sell her short, she gets around to proving them wrong within seconds, and it’s the most satisfying thing to see.  Her biggest flaws as Batgirl were that she could be a little too rough and sometimes unintentionally cruel (such as the time she sprayed Louie the Lilac with sentient rot because she thought he was just bluffing).  But with time and experience she learned better and continued to improve as Gotham’s newest protector—a job she took very seriously, but still had a sense of humor about.

Interestingly, in her first couple of appearances, Babs seemed to be very aware of the fact that people were going to end up comparing her to Batman and Robin, and it manifested in a rather competitive spirit.  She constantly kept secrets from them, even ones that pertained to the case they were working on, and she would even hide evidence from them so she could have the satisfaction of busting the bad guy first.  They didn’t seem to trust her on principle at first, especially Batman, who believed that it was in women’s nature to try to outdo men in everything (holy sexism, ya douchecanoe); and she apparently decided that it wasn’t worth the effort to change their minds.  When they asked her about where she got her information, she would be deliberately vague and mention things like tarot cards and tea leaves—“all part of a woman crimefighter’s arsenal”—as a sort of Take That against them.  And at the end of almost every episode, she would disappear without a trace while their backs were turned, making them wonder where the hell she could have gone.  Eventually the three came to trust each other much more and fall into an easier and more cheerful rapport, but she would still disappear on them when the job was done.

One of the biggest shakeups on the show was that the member of the original “Batfamily” she was closest to was none other than Alfred!  He was the first to stumble upon her secret identity, and she made him swear to secrecy “as a gentleman’s gentleman.”  And he kept his word and continued to serve as her confidante, meeting with her in secret when she didn’t know if she could trust Batman. Every opportunity there was to help Babs, Alfred took it, no matter what, whether it was freeing her from a particularly tricky trap or helping her track a criminal across Gotham.  The two of them quickly developed a really adorable familial relationship based on mutual trust and affection, and you could tell how fond of each other Yvonne Craig and Alan Napier must have been.

The one vastly different addition you could possibly quibble with about this Babs is that there’s this rather aggressive effort to try to pair her up with Bruce.  Her father is very in favor of the idea of the two settling down together (even though Babs is fresh out of college and Bruce is at least in his late thirties).  And while Babs thinks Bruce is a nice enough guy, all of their “dates” end up being rather awkward since Bruce is a colossal dork out of costume, and she honestly just finds him a bit boring.  Besides, “he’s no Batman.”  She has a rather thinly disguised hero-crush on Batman and often wonders who he is under the mask—one can only imagine her reaction to finding out it’s the same guy who would rather watch the news in the back of his limo than talk to her. The attempt at shipping is there, but it never really goes anywhere, so… dodged a bullet there.

And in case anyone is wondering about her and Dick, while they aren’t romantically interested in each other at all, they do make a fantastic team and seem to view each other as brother and sister or at least good friends.  There are entire subplots of episodes where the two team up to save Batman’s bacon, and it’s glorious.

All in all, Yvonne Craig—once a dancer for the Ballet Russe and then a character actress who’d performed opposite Perry Mason and Elvis Presley—gave the world one of the defining heroines of the 1960s.  One who never stayed a damsel in distress for long and was spunky, witty, rebellious, kindhearted, determined, free-spirited, and more than capable of holding her own with the boys.  If anyone remembers anything about the third season of Batman, it’s Batgirl in all her purple glory, and her legacy has endured for so long that even Gail Simone has gone on record saying that when she writes Barbara Gordon, it’s Craig’s voice she imagines.

Unfortunately, Batman’s third season would be its last; even with hopes for a fourth season on the horizon, the destruction of the sets meant that the Terrific Trio would never set forth again on the small screen.  Fortunately, though, this wouldn’t be the end of this Batgirl—she was given another chance in cartoon and comic book form!

In The New Adventures of Batman, she takes on Catwoman to clear her own name from the taint of crime, singlehandedly rescues Robin from both the Joker’s and the Riddler’s henchmen with nothing but brute force, and adds a whole new passel of gadgets to her utility belt, including her own grappling hook gun and a makeup compact that conceals pocket sand she can use to blind her assailants.

In the recent Batman ’66 standalone comics, she gets to help Batman face off against Lord Death Man in Japan, takes on the Joker and Catwoman multiple times, helps free her father from Bane’s clutches, outwits all of the Big Four through simple office politics out of costume, and singlehandedly fends off the Bookworm and Queen Cleopatra with ingenuity and a good pimp slap respectively.

In Batman ’66 Meets the Man From U.N.C.L.E., she battles Poison Ivy’s plant goons (accidentally decapitating one of them with a single kick) travels with the Dynamic Duo, Napolean, and Illya to Monte Carlo to face off against Hugo Strange and his new international crime syndicate, and almost throws hands with Strange all by herself.

In Batman ’66 Meets Wonder Woman ’77, she graduates from Batgirl to Batwoman (Kate Kane’s initial appearance never caught on, it would seem) and takes her place as the new police commissioner of Gotham City after her father retires.

And most recently, in Archie Meets Batman ’66, she and Dick Grayson go undercover as transfer students to help flush out the new supervillain threat plaguing Riverdale and its students, facing off against the Joker and Catwoman in particular so far while dealing with the rabid crushes Archie and Betty have on them.

And as long as people still show an interest in this iteration of Babs, there will probably be more content still to come.  Not gonna lie, this is my favorite version of Barbara Gordon in any medium—I love her personality, her approach to challenges, her fighting style, her relationships with the rest of the cast, and even her costume.  Maybe one day, in a new Batman ’66 comic, we’ll get to see more of a supporting cast for her—bring in Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Frankie Charles, Jason Bard, and all of the characters we’ve come to know and love from the greater DC canon!  Hell, even better, give her a chance to become Oracle and pave the way for new Batgirls inspired by the good she’s done for Gotham!  But for now, we should all take the opportunity to appreciate the most iconic Barbara Gordon and the legacy she left behind.

Before I go, I thought I’d leave you guys with a snippet from the Man From U.N.C.L.E. crossover comic that I think best encapsulates this Batgirl and why she does what she does.  If ever Barbara Gordon had a mission statement, this is it, and I can never commend the comics enough for recognizing what makes her so special.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Half Blood, Whole Heart: Part 7

Pairings: Jax x Reader, sister Winchester!reader- SOA/SPN Crossover

Warnings: Swearing, fluff. angst, smut (unprotected, public sex)

Word Count: 4,471

A/N: So I decided to repost my novel- the story that someone stole from my old blog and put up on Wattpad. PLEASE don’t be an asshole and steal my stories. It CRUSHED me when it happened and almost ran me off Tumblr.

Half Blood, Whole Heart Masterlist    Aesthetic by @ravenangel33​

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, give me the run down.” You said as you toed off your boots and flopped down on the motel bed. Sam cleared his throat and shuffled through some papers on the table as Jax took a seat across from him.

“So, we have three bodies, drained of blood and dumped off Route 2 within in last two days.”

“Puncture marks?” You asked as you looked over at your brother and he nodded as he looked for other papers.

“We have two people who went missing day before the bodies started dropping…”

“Probably being used as blood bags.” Dean said as he came out of the bathroom. You rolled your eyes and nodded.

“So how many we thinking and do we know where they are at?” Sam looked up at you, nodded and turned his laptop toward you.

“We think about 10… and this whole area is farm land.” He said as he circled an area on the screen with his finger. “But get this, right here…” He pointed at a green spot and grabbed a morgue picture. “This farm belongs to a Richard Michaels… our first vic.” You took the picture from your brother’s hand and looked at the lifeless face of the older man.

“Well, I guess we found our vamp nest. You guys get the vamptonite already?” Your brothers remained quiet for a second and you looked up and smirked. “Come on, you two. There is no freaking way you are that hopeless without me doing the research and prep portion for you.”

“You know what, (Y/N) we are not hopeless.” Dean snapped as he sat down on the other bed. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him smugly.

“Oh yea? Where’s the vamptonite?”

“Bite me, Button.”

“What’s vamptonite?” Jax asked as he glanced at the collection of notes and case files on the motel table.

“Nicer way of saying blood from a dead guy.” Dean told him. He nodded as you swung your legs off the bed.

“You don’t by chance have my old FED suit, heels and creds in the Impala, do you?”

“Actually, I brought them inside already.” Sam said as he tossed you a small bag from under the table. “You got a couple shirts in there as well.” You smiled as you pulled it open and you looked up at Jax.

“Sorry baby. You gotta stay behind for this part. Sam, you wanna catch him up on basics while Dean and I go take a run at the morgue… again?”

“Why do I gotta stay behind? I can help.” You looked at your brother as you grabbed the grey pencil skirt and a white button up from the bag.

“You explain things better and Dean is a better flirt when I need him to be.” Sam paused for a moment and pursed his lips before nodding in agreement.

“Alright, fair point.”

“If you hurry we can make it in before they close for the night.” Dean said in a sing-song voice. You flipped him the bird and headed into the bathroom to get changed and silently cursed yourself for getting involved with another hunt.

——

“So, decapitation, no guns. And the blood stuns them if I need it?” Jax asked as the four of you stood at the back of the Impala at the end of the driveway. You nodded and turned to him; pushing him a couple steps away from your brothers gently to speak to him in almost a whisper.

“Listen, I know that killing things is one of the things you do back home for the sake of the club and I don’t really give a fuck about that but killing monsters is a completely different ball game. The boys will go in first then me, then you. Trust me, you will see action but this isn’t…”

“Babe, I know. I’m out of my element here but don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure I can figure this out as I go.” You sighed and shook your head.

“I just don’t want to lose you. If you get bit…” He shushed you and gave you a chaste kiss to stop any further protests.

“It’s gunna be fine, babe. Relax, let’s get this done.” With a heavy sigh, you nodded, turned back to the car and grabbed your machete as Dean passed Jax one.

“You stay in the back.” Dean demanded, already lost in a hunter mindset. “Kill anyone that heads for the door except us. Don’t worry about (Y/N); she can handle herself.” You glanced at Jax who grit his teeth at being told what to do but he nodded anyways. Without another word, Dean slammed the trunk closed and headed down the driveway with the rest of you not far behind.

“Look, I got eyes on Jax.” Sam said softly and you glanced up at him gratefully. “I know you are just as much out of your element as he is. You just keep eyes on Dean.” You nodded as you followed Dean into the woods to prepare. As the four of you pause outside of the barn to watch, you heard a stick break behind you. You all whipped around with your machete’s raised and froze as John Winchester came out of the trees and shook his head.

“What did I tell you about staying out?” He whisper yelled at you as he crouched down behind the four of you.

“Dad? How the…?” Dean said and John shook his head.

“Don’t ask questions, boy. How stupid are you three doing this hunt this late in the day? Whatever plan you all had it’s now being changed. They have the gun we need to kill the thing that got your mom. I’ll go in first, get it and you two worry about the rest. (Y/N), go back to the car with your husband and wait.”

“What? That’s not…”

“Don’t make me say it twice, girl. Sun sets in less than an hour and we don’t have time for your pettiness; go.”

“Un-fucking-believeable.” You grumbled as you got up and stormed back through the woods. As you made it to the Impala, you tossed your machete on the ground and leaned against the black metal. “This is what I used to deal with all the time. All the built up to get cock-blocked at the last minute.” You told Jax as he tossed his knife toward the back of the car and leaned against it next to you with his brow furrowed.

“How did he even know where we were?” He asked. You shrugged as you reached into the pocket of his kutte and grabbed his cigarettes and lighter.

“John Winchester gives a whole new meaning to creepy stalker sometimes.” You said as you lit two cigarettes and handed him one without thinking. The two of you stood there silently waiting as you smoked.

“Now, I don’t know what smells more delicious; the boy, the girl or the smoke.” The female voice barely registered completely before a pair of arms wrapped around your upper body and yanked you into the air. True to Jax form, he shoved away from the car and grabbed his gun.

“Let her go!” He demanded as he pointed the useless metal at the woman who held you to her chest on top of the Impala. She laughed and shook her head.

“No sweetie. I can’t do that. See, Winchester has to pay for what he just did.” You looked down to where your machete was laying a couple feet in front of your husband and came up with the only plan you could. Your panicked eyes found his as the woman yammered on.

‘Shoot my leg.’ You said as you looked down at the machete at his feet.

“Let her go!” Jax said once more as you mouthed ‘trust me.’

“Not happening. Just have to wait…” The sound of the shot ringing out barely covered your scream as the bullet embedded into the outside edge of your right thigh. You gripped the woman’s arms and collapsed on top of the car; pulling her down on top of you. With amazing reflexes, you ducked your head to your chest seconds before Jax grabbed your machete and lopped off the vamp’s head in one fluid motion. You felt the dead weight of her body crush you for only a moment before it disappeared.

“Nice reflexes, Teller.” You groaned as he dragged you off the top of the car.

“Nice plan but was that really the best you could come up with?” He asked as he ripped off his kutte and the shirt he had on and held the latter to your leg to stop the bleeding.

“Got the job done, didn’t it? Keep watch, I got this.” He gave you a short nod as you took over holding his shirt to your thigh and he stood in front of you.

“Did I really just shoot my wife? On our honeymoon, no less.” He asked rhetorically and you giggled.

“Yea, worry about that later.” You two only had to wait a moment before your dad and the boys headed out of the woods.

“The hell happened to my car?!” Dean demanded as he ran to look at the bloody body that was sprawled across the hood and the giant dent from the two bodies collapsing on it.

“Oh thanks. Don’t gotta worry bout me, De. Not like I’m bleeding here or nothin’.”

“What happened?” John asked as he and Jax helped you up. You hissed as you put weight on your leg.

“Bitch came out of no where and grabbed (Y/N). She told me to shoot her in the leg and when they both fell, I cut off the head.” John looked over at your husband as Jax picked you up in his arms. “Can we get her to a hospital now?”

“We don’t do hospitals, son. Sam?” Your dad called out. Your brother looked over as John threw his thumb toward his truck. “Get the bullet out of your sister.” Sam nodded and laughed as Jax followed him to John’s truck.

“What’s so funny?” You asked as Sam dropped the tailgate. Jax set you down gently as Sam grabbed the first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey from the cab.

“Your husband shot you on your honeymoon.” He chuckled as he handed you the bottle. You scowled as you wiggled out of your jeans to get patched up.

“This is why I can’t have nice things.”

——

“So, I vote no more blood shed till we get back to Charming.” You said as Jax carried you into the hotel in New York City. He smiled and nodded as he kicked the room door closed.

“I vote room service and hours of sex for the rest of our honeymoon.” You hummed as he laid you down on the bed and you pulled him down with you.

“I agree with that as long as we can take a nap first. SOMEONE shot me yesterday and my leg hurts.” You teased as you wrapped your arms around the neck of the man you loved.

“Then SOMEONE should have given me a better idea.” He joked as he rolled onto his back so you were laying on top of him. You shrugged and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Yea, well I’ll just hold it against you forever.” You said as you started to lay your head down on his chest; however, a thought stopped you and you looked back up at him with a huge grin. “Mom is going to kill you!” He blanched and let his head fall back into the pillows.

“Shit, she totally is.” You smiled as you laid your head down his chest and moved your hands comfortably to rest on his ribs.

“I should call her right now; fake sobbing, the whole nine.” He chuckled as he ran his fingertips in meaningless patterns across your back.

“Go ahead. She’ll fly out here in a heartbeat to beat my ass.”

“I’m getting up right now then.” You said without moving an inch as you closed your eyes with a small content sigh.

“Do you wanna have kids?” Jax asked after a few minutes as he kissed the top of your head. Your smile grew but you didn’t move your head.

“You just shot me and now you want me to have your kids?” He chuckled and lifted your chin with his fingers to look at you.

“I’m serious. Let’s have kids.” You folded your hands across his chest and propped your chin on them.

“What if I don’t want kids?” You countered playfully and an evil grin played at his lips.

“Well you’re gettin’ them anyways so buckle up.” He said as he rolled you onto your back. You threw your arms around his neck and wrapped your good leg around his waist.

“Sex with my handsome husband; what a chore.” He growled playfully and attacked your neck with kisses and love bites.

“It’s gunna feel like a chore with how many times I’m gunna fuck my sexy ass wife to knock you up.”

“Oh no! whatever will I do!”

——

“Are you sure you want to keep trying to have kids with me?” You asked Jax softly as you ran your hands through his hair and slowly rolled your hips against his. You captured his ear between your teeth and he sucked air through his teeth and gripped your bare shoulders.

“Oh baby. I could do this every day and never get tired of trying with you.” You hummed a laugh as you glanced around Central Park for peeping Toms and ground against him harder. “Fuck… I need you to stop teasing me.” He groaned as you ran the tip of your tongue across the shell of his ear.

“Oh but it’s so much fun for me.” You whispered as you placed open mouth kisses along his throat. He chuckled as he dropped one hand to his lap and lifted the end of the maxi dress you found at a thrift store for just this occasion.

“May be but this is better.” He said as he captured your lips with his, slipped his fingers under your lace panties and dipped them in your dripping wet pussy. Your gasp was lost in his mouth as he relentlessly pumped his fingers in and out of you. You gently tugged on his hair but as your coil threatened to snap and he backed off.

“Fuck Jax… I hate it when you do that.” You said as your head fell to his shoulder. He chuckled as he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his impressive length under the cover of your dress.

“Don’t I always make it worth it in the end?” He asked. He grabbed your hip as he lined himself up and slowly pulled you down on to him. You bit your cheek to hold back your moan as his eyes rolled back and his head fell against the tree he was leaning against. You both took a moment to adjust before he squeezed your hip and picked his head up to look at you.

“Move.” He growled against your lips before he kissed you feverishly. With another lost moan, you rolled your hips at an almost torturously slow pace. You pulled away and kissed your way your way down his jaw.

“Never said how fast.” You teased as you squeezed yourself around him. He snapped his hips to yours and held your face to his neck to muffle your cry.

“God you’re so fucking perfect.” He pulled your hips faster; his own thrusts meeting you with each pass and he tangled his other hand in your hand to keep your moans muffled in his kutte. Your body tensed as your coil tightened and you tugged at the blonde strands in your hand.

“Fuck Jax…” You gasped as you snapped. You bit the leather of his kutte and let out a squeaked scream as your thighs began to shake and your orgasm tore through you. He squeezed his eyes closed as your walls clamped down around him and dropped his mouth to your shoulder. His cursing was muffled by your inked skin as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and spilled inside of you. You held each other close, bodies quivering as you both attempt to keep moans of pleasure quiet in vain and you rode out the rush. Once your breathing leveled out, Jax chuckled as he reached under your dress once more to tuck himself away.

“If you find out your pregnant in a month, we are telling everyone you got knocked up in Central Park.” You giggled as you pulled one of his knees to the side and sat on the ground between his legs as Jax lit a cigarette.

“It’s a good story to tell. I doubt…”

“Excuse me…” A woman interrupted. You glanced up at her scowling face and she shook her head and pointed at both of you. “God is watching you all the time, you heathens.” Jax simply laughed as he blew his smoke in her face and handed you the cigarette.

“Yea, he is and he’s the only mother fucker in the world who doesn’t have to pay per view to watch good porn.” You snorted in laughter as the woman put her hand over her heart and gasped. Jax picked his hand up from where it was laying on your thigh and swept it at her in a ‘go away’ motion. “Can you fuck off? You’re bothering me and my wife.”

“You’re both going to hell!” She shouted as she stormed away. You turned to look at her retreating figure and laughed.

“Hate to tell you but hell already kicked us out.” You heard the woman growl angrily as she stomped away. You shook your head and Jax laughed. “Dude… what?”

“You know she was probably sitting somewhere watching us fuck just waiting for us to finish.” He said as you took a drag of the cigarette.

“Should have charged her a viewing fee.” Your phone rang in Jax’s pocket and you handed him the cigarette and grabbed it. “Uptight bitch probably hasn’t seen any action in her life.” You glanced down at the caller ID and smiled at your brother’s name as you answered the phone. “Holy shit, Sammy you will never believe what just happened.”

“Hey… tell me another time. S-somethin’ bad happened.” Your laughter stopped and your smile dropped and you instinctively grabbed Jax’s arm.

“What? Sam, what happened?” Your brother paused for a moment and you tightened your grip on the sleeve of Jax’s shirt and swallowed.

“There was an accident. Dad and I are fine but…” His sentence trailed off and you panicked.

“Dean… Sammy what happened to Dean?”

“He’s in a coma, (Y/N) and they say… it’s…” His voice broke and you frantically shook your head as bile rose in your throat.

“I’m coming. Send me… he’s… I’m coming.” You dropped the phone on the ground as you looked at Jax. “Dean…” was all you got out before you burst into tears. Jax pulled you back into his lap and held you close as you mentally begged anyone out there to not let your brother die.

“What happened?” Jax asked softly once you calmed down. You shook your head against his neck and sniffled.

“Car accident. Dean’s in a coma and Sam says it doesn’t look good.” He nodded as he gently pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“Dean is a fighter. He’s gunna be just fine.” You nodded slightly and he sighed and gave you a chaste kiss. “Come on, let’s go get our stuff together and get on the road.”

——

“(Y/N)!” Sam called out as you and Jax walked through the Sioux Falls hospital hallways. You gave him a weak smile and started down the hall he was standing in but froze when the temperature dropped suddenly.

“Is he here?” You asked as the temperature returned to normal just as quickly as it dropped. Sam nodded his head and gestured you into Dean’s room.

“He’s in-between. He managed to throw a glass when dad and I were fighting yesterday so I got a Ouija board last night from some store in town. He says a reaper is after him and it’s coming quick. Dean is getting worse and worse every minute.”

“Where’s dad?” Sam shrugged and with a sigh, you walked over to your brother’s bed side. “Hey asshole.” You said softly as you brushed your fingers through his hair and fought back your tears. “You gotta stay with us, De. I can’t deal with Sam and dad without you, you know that.”

“You want the board?” Sam asked and you shook your head.

“No. Dean’s a fighter. He’ll…” The rhythmic beep of Dean’s heart monitor suddenly flatlined; interrupting your words.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he rushed to the far side of the bed.

“We need help in here!” Jax screamed down the hall as you screamed your brother’s name. A moment later, Jax wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you out into the hall as nurses and the doctor raced into the room. He held you to his chest and tears poured down your cheeks as the three of you watched the hospital staff try to bring him back to life. Shock after shock sent Dean’s body arching off the table but the incessant solid beep didn’t form a pattern.

“Alright everybody, that’s it. I’ll call it. Time of death: 6:36am” You let out a blood curdling scream as your knees gave out. Jax held you tight and eased you to your knees as the nurses filed out of the room. You clung to your husband desperately and sobbed. Out of no where, you felt a blast of cold air rush past you and Jax shivered.

“Sam!” You cried as you whipped your head toward the room as Dean suddenly gasped for air around the breathing tube. Sam looked at his brother for half a second before sticking his head into the hall.

“Help! I need help!” he roared. You and Jax scrambled off the floor but he held you out in the hall as the nurses rushed back into Dean’s room. Sam stood with you and you held both their hands as the doctor came in, took out his breathing tube and checked him out. After twenty minutes, he came out shaking his head.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. He appears to be in outstanding health; vitals are damn near perfect like he wasn’t in a coma at all. We’ll need to keep him over night and run a few test. You can go in there now.”

“What the hell?” Sam said as the doctor walked away. You shook your head, walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, asshole. Enjoy scaring the shit out of us?”

“What the hell happened?” He asked as he rubbed his chest where he had been shocked.

“Dean, you were in a coma for two days. You just died!”

“I… what?” Dean asked as he looked up at Sam confused. Sam’s jaw fell open and he nodded.

“Uhh yea. We talked while you were in a coma. You said you had a reaper after you.”

“We talked? I said… wait a minute… please tell me you did not go all girls sleepover party and get a Ouija board on me here?” He joked.

“De, what do you remember?” Your brother looked over at you, pouted his bottom lip out as he thought and shook his head.

“Nothing. The accident and then just waking up.” You glanced up at Sam as Jax stepped forward and pat your brother on the shoulder.

“Well welcome back, brother.” Dean nodded at him and looked back at the silent conversation you and Sam were having.

“You really don’t remember anything?” Sam asked as he looked back over at your older brother. He shook his head and scrunched his face up a bit.

“Not a damn thing but I have this weird pit in my stomach that something isn’t right.”

“I’m gunna take you to get a CT scan. Should take about an hour.” You got off the bed and kissed Dean’s forehead.

“Jax and I are gunna head to a motel for a couple hours and get some sleep. We’ve been on the road since yesterday to get here. We’ll be back though.” He nodded as you kissed his forehead. After the nurse unlocked the breaks to his bed and wheeled him out of the room, you turned to Sam.

“Something big just happened here.” You said as you shut the door to the room and Sam nodded.

“Yea but the question is what?” He asked.

“Is there any thing that is capable of doing that?” Jax asked as he gestured to the spot Dean’s bed just was. You shrugged.

“Nothing I have seen before… my gut tells me dad had something to do with it though.” Sam said. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

“Well I’m too tired to try and figure it out and I just watched my brother die and come back to life in a 5 minute period so I don’t know about you but I’m going to take a nap while they run their tests.”

“I’ll stay here and keep you posted.” You nodded as you gave your brother a hug.

“If dad shows up before I’m back, let me know.”

“Here.” Sam said as he pulled a motel room key out of his pocket and handed it to Jax. “Take a right out of the parking lot and it’s ‘bout 5 minutes down the main drag on the left. Room 107. Didn’t wanna impose on Bobby so I got it yesterday.” You nodded thanks as you took Jax’s hand and the two of you trudged out of the room.

“I feel like there is something I’m missin’ about this whole thing.” He said as the two of you stepped out into the parking lot.

“You and me both. There is something the boys aren’t saying whether that is on accident or purpose. My guess? The car accident wasn’t an accident; the demon my dad is hunting had something to do with it. As far as Dean’s mysterious comeback…? That one I have no idea but I think when we find my dad he will be able to give us some better insight.” Jax nodded as he got on his bike and you climbed on the back of it. “Whatever it is though… I have the same pit in my stomach Dean does.”

Part 8

[get-dunked-on-18]

Size Matters Matters part 1

E-rated. Soriel (Sans/Toriel) Minor size kink.

When you were under a meter and a half tall, everything seemed hard to get to. A year ago, he used to use that as an excuse to get out of doing dishes, loading the washing machine, even using the stove. Sans had Papyrus do most of those things, since the stepstools would mysteriously vanish from the house so often. He had never really been bothered by his overall size, and actually used it as an excuse to be lazy.

But…Papyrus wasn’t around anymore…well…it had been quite a while since he had been in a position to be lazy. Toriel was an exceptionally conscientious woman, well aware her countertops, ceilings, cabinets–well, everything–were higher than most. She had stepstools all over her house. He suspected she had kept them around for when human filt–kids had fallen down here. He couldn’t come to feel anything warm towards humans, after the last one had fuckingdecapitated his brother. Did they even know the mind continues to work for a couple minutes after one’s head is cut off? Papyrus had to have been in excruciating pain, and without the need for lungs, he had used his last minute of consciousness to tell that human that he still…Papyrus deserved so much better. So, so much better.

Toriel must have noticed the darkening of his expression as he dried the plate he was holding. She turned off the water and said his name softly. Sans looked up to the tall monster at the sink. She was so…she had such a big heart, an easy-to-read face, and Sans could tell how much his moods worried her. She had her own moods, sometimes, and he would rather not put any more stress on her. He sent her what he hoped appeared as a warm smile–what with his skeletal grin.

“i was thinkin’ it’s been a while since i had pizza,” he lied, “y'ever made a pizza?”

Her brows raised as she went to drying her hands. She had such delicate markings against her soft and otherwise pristine white fur. Dark grey along her brows, and a barely noticeable dappling of grey near the bottoms of her ears, and softer still along her muzzle. The slight contrast of color made her face so very intriguing when it changed expressions like that.

“Oh. Well. It has been a while. If you could look up a recipe on your phone, we will see about it for dinner, if you would like?” her ruby red eyes met white eyelights as she returned the smile, almost hesitantly.

“yeah, i can do that.”

His tone was his low and relaxed as usual, as far as he could tell, but Toriel didn’t look wholly convinced, flashing a dubious note before she nodded and began to stack the dishes he had dried. He still couldn’t quite get to the top shelves. Not unless he used magic or physically climbed up on top of the counter. He stepped off the stool to give her room to get to the cupboard behind him.

Even on a stool, he only reached her shoulder and now she flashed a smile down at him not unlike a mother would a child. Of course, he’d always had someone to take care of him. Whether it was…picking him up from the bar at two in the morning or making sure he’d eaten a vegetable once in a while or even finishing chores which were a tad difficult for him to complete on his own. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t a child, despite his size. As lazy as he was, he didn’t want her of all people to view him like a child or a–

Why her, specifically?

Sans wondered this as he yawned, hefting the shopping basket onto the conveyer. It was just easiest for Toriel to send him out shopping in the small Snowdin grocer than trying to scrounge around the Ruins for the proper ingredients or good substitutes. This job he could do. A brother to the Bunny sisters greeted him at the checkout, pleased to see him out and about for once, as little time as he spent in Snowdin nowadays. Sans was sure that he said something moderately offensive about getting his lazy pelvis off the couch, but Sans’ mind was elsewhere. He just wanted to pay for his groceries and get back home. Er. To Tor–hell, it was his home now. He wanted to get back to Toriel.

...

“Perhaps we could have a cake tonight?” Toriel inquired. Sans tore his eyes from the swaying hem of her dress near his knee to look up at the woman beside him. He had to crane his neck to see her smile. God. When she was truly happy, her smile was beautiful, more brilliant than he imagined the sun to be. Her red eyes were bright, and the tips of her fangs peeked out further under her lip. Her lips looked soft. Everything about her was soft, from the gentle lines of her fur, the flesh of her palms when she occasionally touched his shoulder, the velvet texture of the long ears which he had gotten to touch on a rare occasion.

Wait. She’d asked a question, hadn’t she?

Uh. Uhh…cake! Cake. That’s right. His face felt a tad warm.

He looked down at the jar of snails he held. Snail pie wasn’t as bad as it sounded but…

“what kind of cake?” he asked.

“I was thinking that I have never before made a red velvet cake. I think I have a recipe for that.” She clasped the door handle to let them back inside the house.

“heh. red velvet sounds nice.” he had half a mind to say something about how he’d just been thinking of velvet, but that would definitely be pushing it. She didn’t need to know how much he liked the texture of her fur against his bare bones. Phalanges. Specifically, phalanges. Not anything weird like his ischium.

Wait. Stop that. Why even go there?

Stay focused.

“i kinda did miss my birthday this year,” he chuckled a bit. He halted when he heard a gasp from behind him.

"Oh! Sans, you did not tell me! When was your birthday?"

Sans blinked. Toriel's brows were knit together.

"uh. like three weeks ago? it's really not importa--"

"It is though," Toriel interrupted. "I can't believe I did not ever ask." She set her hand against her face in thought.

"well. it just never came up in conversation. 'sides...I uh..." he scratched the back of his skull, "don' really remember the last few birthdays too well..." He mumbled the last bit. He wasn't a blackout drunk. Not really. Except maybe when it was his birthday and everyone was buying him drinks which uh...he could have refused but uh...

"Then we will celebrate tonight if that is alright with you?" She took a step towards him, as if she was truly waiting on a response.

"ok." it was just cake either way, wasn't it?

...

Oh. And wine apparently.

"yeah, so my teacher would always be like 'it's a girl's handwriting,' and i'd get embarrassed, cuz i knew it was always my paper. still never took the time to actually write my name." Sans smiled when she covered her mouth, trying to not to laugh at his expense. Well, he wouldn't have told that story if he didn't want her to laugh. She had a great laugh. Sometimes she squeaked and if he got her rolling she had a slight snort. She'd always look embarrassed, but unable to stop laughing at that point. She looked so beautiful when she laughed, and in those moments, he wanted nothing more than to make her happy like that.

"That is awful," she said at last, as her giggles died down.

"yeah well," he picked his wine up, "seventh grade was quite a while ago." He gave a wink before taking another drink. He pulled the glass away to look at it.

"y'know, i'm more of a cheap beer guy myself, but this is good, especially along with frosting."

Toriel rolled her eyes, smiling softly.

"Well, it is cheap wine, but it is what I prefer." She paused, looking carefully over Sans as he started to pour another glass.

"Sans, do be careful not to drink too much. I would hate to have you getting sick for any reason," she warned

Sans lifted a brow ridge. Sick from too much wine?

"eh. i'm old enough to know how to hold my liquor, let aline sone wine. ain't gotta worry about that, tori." He clinked his glass against hers lightly, before taking another sip. Toriel chuckled lightly in reply.

"Oh, and how old are you?" She asked, smiling whimsically.

"ah. yeah, big three-oh this year. i remember when i used to think thirty was old." He chuckled.

"Ah. Oh..." Her brow furrowed in confusion. Sans squinted.

"is uh, somethin' wrong, tori?"

Toriel absentmindedly tapped her fingertips against her glass.

"No, I am just...well, this probably sounds silly, but I thought you were a bit younger than that."

Sans resisted the urge to throw her a bewildered expression, instead choosing to make fun of this situation.

"look damn good for my old age, huh? y'know chefs'll say age crepes up on you." He shoved a bite if cake into his mouth and smirked around the fork. Tori didn't seem to notice. He blinked with the fact her expression hadn't changed. What was she thinking about?

"unless it's something else? tori. heya?"

She blinked a few times, refocusing her eyes on his face.

"Oh, I am sorry for the assumption that..."

"what? didja think i was like a kid or something? you wouldn't have let me have wine if you thought i was a kid," he laughed at his own suggestion. Tori's face dropped with some sort of realization. That she had thoughtlessly let him partake in--

"ya did, didn't you? you thought i was a kid this entire—c'mon tori. really?" that would explain the way she looked at him. Every ounce of affection that didn't seem to match his—it was affection. It wasn't the sort he felt towards her. (Wait, what kind of affection did he feel for her?) Hers was motherly. Whether she saw him as a literal child, or just a very young adult who didn't...that's why she was okay picking up after him. She didn't hold him to the responsibility she would her equal (besides the whole former queen thing).

"Oh, Sans, please. I did not wish to upset—"

"ah...i ain't upset," he waved he off, taking another sip--well, glug--of wine before continuing.

"i just wanna let you know i'm a grown-ass man. have been for a while. grown enough to drop out of a master's program, and do nothing but work dead-end jobs and sit around telling jokes for half a decade."

He sighed.

"just cuz i'm like the size of a kid..." an idea came to mind and before he could tell himself off it, he was clutching her hand.

"stand up."

"S-sans?" Toriel looked incredibly nervous and perhaps even a little embarrassed at the turns of conversation.

"up," he said, getting out of his chair and lifting her hand off the table. She flashed him a look that was now more puzzled than nervous. She stood up beside the skeleton. Sans climbed into her chair, then up onto the table, still grasping her hand. He squeezed firmly and pulled her by the hand more towards the edge of the table he stood on, now looking down at her for the first time where her horns came up to his chin.

"i look more like a grown-up man from here, eh?" he asked, grinning. Her expression was almost blank, save for the slightest tough of surprise. He looked down to where he held her hand--it's size dwarfing his own. He could fit both of his hands in hers.

"i'm not the best at explaining shit," he mumbled. Yup. He wrapped his other hand around hers and his thin white bones still looked small compared to her great fuzzy paws. Very suddenly, the stupidity of his actions came crashing down over him. About the time his teeth made gentle contact with the back of her hand. It was a kiss.

His eye sockets snapped open wide and he yanked his head back.

Why the hell had he done that? Done any of this?! He wasn't even drunk yet, and that would be a ridiculous notion even if he was. Alcohol only encourages the thoughts one has already had sober. He couldn't explain this.

Shit. She was definitely blushing brightly under the thin white fur of her face. It made her look very pink.

"ah. that was. uhh..." he looked off to the side before pulling his hand out of hers and promptly scrambling off her kitchen table.

"Sans. I--"

"sorry. that was stupid. guess i'm more of a lightweight than i thought." he turned back towards her, still edging away from her with backwards steps and refusing to meet her eyes. He could still tell that she was blushing.

"cuz, you know. not even 30 pounds." That. Was probably the worst joke he'd attempted...well, this week anyway. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Are you...going to bed already?" Toriel had lifted her hand, the one he had kissed, to press against her chest as Sans had edged backwards into the hall.

"yeah. you know me. always bone tired. and now a, uh, a bit drunk and stupid and yep. better sleep this off. night tori." Toriel didn't try to stop him as he spun and ever-so-slowly walked to his room. He looked back before he opened the door, Toriel just standing there, staring at the table with the leftover cake on it.

Welp.

(Tumblr didn't like how long this was so...multiple parts.)

[themastercreator]

To the Victim go the Spoils

“What makes a man a hero? The question has been asked millions of ways with millions of answers. Some only consider soldiers heroes. Firefighters, police officers, and doctors have their place on the list.  My personal heroes are teachers, a long LONG string of them helped me achieve what I thought I could not. But what about the heroes standing right in front of us? What about the heroes that sit in our blind spots? Doing all they can to make sure we have a place to sleep at night. Those that provide for providers. Where on the list of heroes does a man that gives housing to people seemingly cast from society belong? Is a man a hero if he takes 85 acres builds housing, restaurants, even parks and recreation specifically for people that would otherwise be derelict? No what makes that man a hero is doing all of these things while never asking for thanks, always fulfilling desires and never expressing any wants of his own. It's time for us to redefine our definition of a hero, and understand that there's a hero within each and every one of us. That is all your honor.”

“After listening to the closing statements, considering all the evidence, I have decided to rule in favor of the defense Chip Hawkthorne and Hawkeye realty.”

Jack Wagner is the best attorney at his firm, he hasn't lost a case in nearly 10 years. This has been is biggest win and most controversial case yet. Chip Hawkthorne was accused of inhumane business practices. His tenants claimed his buildings were poorly constructed. His building managers were said to be from suburban areas vastly different from the neighborhood the apartments were in. They took advantage of desperate tenants, forcing women to have sex, even beating those that said no.

Once, Chip raised the rent in an attempt to drive out people that complained about the gang activity. Those people were evicted, however a single mother with 4 sons were also evicted.

Getting out of the the courthouse was a nightmare. A labyrinth of media, social justice warriors, with the final level being the tenants of Hawkthorn Towers.

“I hope you burn in hell for getting that slumlord off”

“If not me then someone else would represent him. The facts were presented, I didn't make the ruling the judge did.”

“you're a real piece of shit Wagner, your whole career has been spent rescuing crooked businessmen and over privileged trust fund rapists from what they deserve”

“These people that you speak so lovingly of got exactly what they deserve. It's not up to me nor you to judge them, we leave it to the impartial and they gave each and every one of these people exactly what they deserve.”

“One day you’re gonna get what you deserve”

“I already got it.”

Jack, being superstitious, celebrates every victory big and small in his same reserved booth at Ruth’s Chris, he has a Porterhouse with a side of asparagus, a glass of Johnnie Walker black label and a Cuban cigar. After this particular win he had a woman accompany him.

“congratulations Wagner, you know even tho Hawkthorne was a pig I'm really proud of you. Well more impressed, I didn't think you stood a chance defending that guy.”

“Thanks for the compliment I think, you know I don't choose these cases they're given to me.”

“Whatever helps you get to sleep at night.”

“you know me, do you really think I would go out of my way to get a case like this?”

“I mean you could always say no right? You've got so many great qualities sometimes I wonder if you have some integrity in there.”

“You wanna question my integrity? You're the face of a makeup line created by a total bigot, when he finally gets sued for racial discrimination I'll tell him no.”

“glad to see there's some sort of line that you won't cross.”

“just because I'm good at my job doesn't mean I like any of these people. Chip Hawkthorne was a complete idiot, he could barely read the court documents, he probably didn't even know what he was being sued for.”

“well this has been fun but I think it's time for me to go home, congrats again on defending such a great guy.”

After sitting alone finishing his meal with a full bottle of Johnnie Walker, Jack staggers to the valet and waits for his car. Determined to finish his night off right he texts his old sexual conquests hoping for a happy ending. After being repeatedly being turned down a car pulls up and a voice calls out for him.

“Mr. Wagner, your ride is here.”

“Gotta love Uber.”

Jack slumps in the back seat in a haze

“home James, ooh actually Wendy’s James my stomach just got it's second wind.”

Riding for a long while, Jack begins to notice the city growing darker. An unfamiliar smell permeates through the air that begins to make him sick.

“dude where the hell are we?”

“You said you wanted Wendy's right? We're about to pull in the drive thru now.”

“good, baconator, spicy chicken nuggets and a frosty. Get something for yourself too.”

Jack soon falls asleep. When he awakens he peers out the window seeing street signs he doesn't recognize.

“hey what the fuck is going on?”

The car comes to a screeching halt, the driver turns and tases Jack. The last thing he sees before the blindfold went on was the Hawkthorne towers sign.

Wagner wakes up still blindfolded tied up on his knees. The sound of gunshots rang out, and a mysterious burning smell tinged his nostrils. He can hear people talking and setting something metal up.

“please don't do this! I...I  have money and you can have it all of you just let me go.”

The blindfold is snatched off, Jack soon discovers he is on the roof of Hawkthorne towers. There's nothing but graffiti and broken glass in front of him. Jack glances back to see a jagged blade rising to the top of a guillotine.

“OH FUUUUCK, FUCK ME, PLEASE PLEEEASE LET ME GO I'll do whatever you want.

“Too late for that nigga”

Two men force Jack to his feet. Knees trembling Jack continues begging for mercy. A small meek woman steps out of the crowd. She strokes Jack softly on the cheek. She spoke with the softest voice.

“Hello there Mr. Wagner, you may not know me but I think you know my son, he brought you here. The man you defended victoriously today did all he could to put a group of people on the streets a few years ago people facing the threat of death daily. All these people wanted was fair living conditions and Mr. Hawkthorne found this unreasonable. Those people were not all that was made vagrant.”

“I'm so sorry I had nothing to do with that, all I did was my job.”

“and you did your job very well, now it's time for us to do our job.”

“I'm begging you, please don't put me in that thing.”

“ Oh, of course not, this is for our guest of honor”

Chip Hawkthorne is dragged screaming out of the building. Hundreds of glass shards embedded in is flesh, he's strapped to the guillotine.

“it's a pleasure to finally meet you Mr. Hawkthorne, I'm so sorry it had to be under these conditions.”

Jack's bowels evacuate as a masked executioner pulls the lever. He watches the blade drop, plunging into Chip's neck. The first try doesn't decapitate him completely so the executioner finishes the job with bare hands. Once it was detached the head was  put on a pike on display for the cheering tenants below. Silence soon filled the air, Jack begins to sob as the men on the roof dump the body into an incinerator.

“my family was kicked out with the other people. After that my youngest son turned to the gang that runs these towers. A rival crew saw him at a store and chased him, hounding him all the way here. My son was murdered in front of the only home he has ever had.”

Jack is cut free before he crumples into the ground. He scans the roof trying to figure out his fate. All he can see now is a crowd of men and women loading pistols and checking rifles.

“now my other sons are about to provide you with more than their brother got.”

She signals for her son to come over. Her son stoops down to look Jack in the eyes.

“whats up Jack I'm Marcus , I'm not as well spoken as my mother, but me and my people, we got honor and integrity. We ain't gonna just slaughter you like this swine,  you get a fighting chance.”

“I don't want to fight you, I don't think I can.”

Marcus rolls a flashlight over to Jack.

“Oh you don't have to worry about that. You got 40 floors under you, no elevators and a bunch of pissed off people. They're mostly harmless tho, the real threat is behind you.”

“but...but”

“Don't worry Jack, you get a five minute head start.”

[thepeakmoment]

More Peaks Returns

It appears to me that Lynch is inserting some heavy commentary about societal behavior, the most obvious being the “fix your hearts or die” assertion about Denise Bryson’s transition. Another clear instance is the decay of social norms exemplified by the elaborate unfolding drug storyline. Several characters are being depicted wheeling and using drugs, and Lynch-Frost are telling an updated version in P5 of the illicit activity, how it has already effected Shelly’s daughter and husband, a continuing cycle of abuse and dysfunction still playing out.

I also believe Sherrif Frank Truman is a personification of Lynch’s transcendental meditation wisdom. Harry Truman’s brother is an honest character and to be trusted absolutely as a transparent truth teller. His name is the very meaning of honest, open, direct �� Frank. His earnestness is exemplified when Doris Truman shows up at station spouting domestic house anxieties while Truman remains sitting, saying nothing at all throughout. It reads like a subtle teaching of how not to respond to anxious energy, worry and dis-ease — do not engage with it. This is classic buddhism — how everything arises from conditions, has a presence in the moment, then decays when conditions change — thus, everything changes, no reason to get wrapped in unnecessary entanglements, including the wrath of someone overreacting to common occurrence. See impermanence.

A Twin Peaks Podcast: A Podcast About Twin Peaks and Deer Meadow Radio are two of the better podcasts on The Return worthy of listening.

Random

Richard Horne — is this the first clue from ?????’s prophetic clues, “Watch for Richard… and Lynda.”

Richard Horne passes bribe money in a pack of Morley cigarettes… the brand of choice for Cigarette Smoking Man.

Salesman asking Lucy at desk for Sheriff Truman, Lucy asks which one? An in-joke allusion to another Sheriff Truman duality, Harry-Frank.

There was a bonsai plant on side table next to Sam sitting on couch in P1, which was also featured in original series’ S2 Windom Earle arch.

Marjorie Green carries her dog, Armstrong, a small Mexican Chihuahua.

Here’s a good article on the absence of Badalamenti music thus far in The Return. 

No white dot in Bob Cooper's pupil/eye — life-less .

End of P4 before Bang Bang Bar is blue rose scene… shot in blue tint

Owl cookie jar on counter behind Dougie Cooper during breakfast 

A lot of Lynch visuals hearkens to Eraserhead, coming full circle in his cinematic journey of a master’s craft.

On Jun 4, 2017, at 9:59 AM, Dom wrote: I think I made a nice discovery which I posted on Reddit (Fred_Truax).

I cannot find Fred[undescore]Truax in any reddit search — author:Fred_Truax yields nothing. I’m not a Reddit reader, the whole thing is a fuck show of multi-threaded comments. It hurts my brain to go there. I can tolerate direct links, though.…

Reading Best Fan Theories at Indiewire, one theory suggests Wally Brando is really dead (source: Reddit /u/chblank), that “Lucy and Andy [are] in denial and shock … of losing her only son as a child.… Sheriff [Frank] Truman may have hired an actor to play their son — a role that fake Wally took literally, considering his “The Wild One” getup and bad “Godfather” impersonation. This could also explain why Wally Brando makes a point of telling his parents that they can convert his childhood bedroom into a study, as a way to help them move on and let go of the past.”

Same article posits that the headless body in the librarian’s apartment belongs to Major Briggs (source: Reddit /u/billy_yllib11). “Although the decapitated head belongs to the dead woman, there is a grotesquely contorted body detached underneath, one that comes from an unknown person. Later, we learn the forensics team has a match on the body, but they need military clearance to unlock its identity. Perhaps the kind of clearance that Major Briggs once had when he was working on top secret projects for the government? Of course, if the decapitated body does in fact belong to Major Briggs, it would also contextualize the appearance of his disembodied head, which floated in space at the beginning of [P3].” …But how does Dougie Cooper’s ring get in stomach?

I also noticed something strange about those two scenes:

In episode one when Sam leaves the Glass Box room the second time to go into the lobby to see Tracey (and the security guard is NOT there) he leaves the small black box of video cards on the step ladder near one of the cameras. The black box remains on the step ladder for the entire scene almost. The box disappears for a moment when they start to take off their clothes, then is back on the step ladder right before they are attacked.

However in episode 2 when Cooper enters the Glass Box and we think Sam is in the Lobby with Tracey, you can clearly see the black box of video cards and his pen on the side table next to the small couch he sits on.

Did Cooper enter this room at a different time they what it appears to be? Is Cooper in a second identical room? I just think its weird the black box is in two different locations in what appears to be the same time?

What do you guys think?

I’m beginning to understand these time shifts as backward dimension bleeding into forward dimension. BOB Cooper begins “‘yrev' very good to see you again old friend” to Gordon Cole when they first see each other again (P4). Relatedly, there’s fervent speculation that Sonny Jim blinks backwards while in back seat of car when Dougie Cooper notices Sonny and sheds a tear (P5).

Backward-forward are the two directions in which one can enter-exit the Black Lodge, shown to us in Classic Peaks and FWWM. Now we’re seeing vertical up-down direction to enter into-exit out of the Lodge, exhibited by the sudden vertical floor vibration as the Arm's doppelgänger appears and Cooper falls down through floor. Or Laura pulled up off the floor screaming into oblivion, as well as  the ghostly pirate-like figure in a jail cell floating up into thin air.

Backwards is a reality dimension different from forward (as normal) dimension. P3 glitchy quick backward-forward movement when Cooper lands into hub in space and interacts with eyes sown shut woman, a reality between the two dimensions (?), existing on the threshold — Dweller on the Threshold?

This new movement is depicted in the opening title sequence when the wavy-flowing red curtains cross fade to chevron pattern panning across floor, seemingly tracking the camera in a circle. I love the new title sequence opening drone shot over the falls, hangs on waterfall from above, dissolves to a slight CU of waterfall spray, then segues to the rhythmic curtains — an abstract version of the classic series opening dissolves from the waterfalls to a flowing river.

I am also convinced that Laura is going to leave the Black Lodge somehow and venture into the real world.

On Jun 4, 2017, at 3:01 PM, Erik wrote: Dom, did you see the Tweet I sent your way? with the info that the Casino Cooper goes to in Vegas was actually filmed in Commerce, CA. (they have actual casinos there) about 35 miles from my house. judge for yourself...

<PHOTO>

Dudes, when we finally graduate from trekking back to Peaks (WA), we have to eat at The Roadhouse Restaurant & Inn. Can’t believe we overlooked this. We’ve done the original Mar-T Cafe (plus the deplorably named and renovated Twede’s) and Fall City Grill (Haps Diner), we gotta do the Roudhouse, regardless if it’s only the exterior.

It will be interesting to see if the green revolving doors that Cooper has trouble with are actually here as well. So I guess we know where you might stay next time you come out here to Pin Peaks Locations. I thought it would even be fun to get a room and watch the season finale there, then go down to the gaming floor and "Helllloooooo!"

As far as the actual plot...

I have come upon no clues or conclusions at all. It is very dense material. What little I have read online is complex and sometimes implausable, but who am I to say?   I like the scene when Douggie is getting dressed and Sonny Boy … comes out and they make a lot of visual and action references to the Season 2 opening scene. What does it mean?  No clue.

In P4 Cooper is Home — Dougie Cooper says aloud, “Home.” This is symbolized as a birthday with balloons in the kitchen behind him. Similar balloon shapes appear when he is dropped off at outside of work building, when Cooper mimics statue pointing gun. I’m thinking Dougie is the character Lynch-Frost are using to teach the viewer how to assimilate and understand the Twin Peaks world view. From Dougie's point of view, he seems to know little or nothing about the world. He’s in process of making sense of it, and now that he's starting from home, we should follow along and we'll learn together. As viewers, we’re putting some faith in the storyline will resolve eventually, even if only in part. During the following scene when Gordon meets Denise Bryson in her office, she says, "I trust you Gordon." We should trust Lynch.… But how does this all jive with ??????’s “You are far from home”?

Gonna review a bit and start my edible regimen, no cherry pie this week, coffee and donuts YES. Last time, I cracked a beer when it started, had a full bowl next to the food. I did not touch either of them for 2 hours straight. Completely forgot about them actually. Totally engaged.   Only ate pie, donuts and coffee... I'll have messenger open at 5:30PM est standing by.

On Jun 7, 2017, at 4:38 PM, Dom wrote: So who do you think are Richard Horne's parents? Audrey and Cooper? Audrey and Jack? Ben and his wife? Jerry and some random chick?

Definitely not the son of Cooper and Audrey. Cooper’s been in the Lodge and he shot Audrey down at every turn before meeting Annie. The other possibilities are intriguing and any of them are plausible. Audrey and Jack — do you mean John Justice Wheeler? Richard Horne seems to be 25 years old and got hooked up with the wrong crowd, that’s easy to do these days. Ben and his wife? Maybe, they could have reconciled their stormy marriage. Ben does seem to have remained steadfast in earnest goodness since emerging from his civil war. Perhaps Richard Horne is Jerry's son that steals his father’s weed to sell. Or maybe Jerry is a big kahuna now in the drug trade? I doubt it. Regardless who the parents are, Richard is a Bobby Peru/Leo Johnson mutt that fits right into Lynch’s social commentary of prevalent drug use still running amok in the world.

Great to see Mike return too.

Would be cool if Mike and Bobby had a beer together at The Roadhouse, catch up a bit with each other — Bobby asking Mike, “Do you remember Laura Palmer?…” I wonder how Bobby will act around Shelly?

I also have another prediction;

The person Gordon wants to look at Cooper will be Diane play by Laura Dern. That's not much of a shock but...

Remember when Albert says he doesn't know where she lives, but knows where she drinks...

My prediction is that they will find Diane (Laura Dern) in that bar we went to in Los Angeles that night I arrived on my last visit. It has all of the nice woodwork and we had to walk down a flight of stairs to enter.

I have resisted right from the outset of Laura Dern cast as Diane. I don’t really want Diane’s identity to be revealed, would much rather have her remain anonymous on the other side of Cooper’s dictaphone. I know there’s speculation and makes sense that Diane will appear as Dern, but this way too obvious, especially after all Lynch has presented us thus far — even considering how close Dern is to Lynch. But still, I hope it isn’t so.…

I also find it weird that Agent Tammy Preston in episode 4 had to ask Albert who Phillip Jeffries is. She learned about his existence in the Secret history of Twin Peaks as she was the agent in charge of examining the dossier. She even added her own notes about him.

That is awesome about the Casino. Next time I come to Los Angeles, I am so game to go play some slots. HELLO  O  OOO OOOO!

[terence-f]

Valentine

DeanCas and Sam, ~2k of fluff and a bit of mystery.

Happy Valentine’s Day :)

The bunker door slammed shut with a loud, irritated squeak. Dean looked up, watching Sam’s boots counting the steps of the staircase with an increasing speed.

“What’s up?” he asked not waiting for Sam to come closer.

Sam crossed the room in a hurried pace and took something from the inner pocket of his jacket. “Look what I found.”

He was still breathing heavily, and before looking at the object Sam was handing him, Dean kept staring at him for a good moment. Sam looked unusually nervous, his gaze down, hair rattled, and cheekbones pinkish as of a strong physical effort or, much more likely, as if he was blushing. The only time Dean could recall seeing his brother so messed up, had been after that enchanted wedding with Becky. But now Sam’s ring finger was clearly empty, and there was no sign of the love potion he had been drugged with. It was something different.

“Are you all right, Sam?” Castiel asked. He was staring at Sam too, frowning worriedly.

“Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine, Cas.” Sam waved awkwardly and forced out a smile, “I’m just... confused a little bit. Dean, will you have a look?”

Finally, Dean glanced down. Sam was holding a little folded postcard— thick pink paper, decorated with tiny glittering hearts. There was no note inside, nothing whatsoever to indicate who the sender was, just the ridiculous hearts all around.

Dean whistled. “Whoa, you have a secret admirer, Sammy,” he said. “Well, you have grown!”

Sam winced and rubbed his forehead. “Dean...”

“What? It’s cool, really, I can’t see what’s the problem... Who sent it?”

“It was on the windshield,” Sam said. “I was away for just a few minutes, stopped at a gas station to grab your burritos, and when I came back this thing was already there.” He said ‘this thing’ with an effort, as if it hurt him to mention the actual postcard. “It was squeezed under the wiper, so that I could not miss it. I made a quick search, but found no one.”

“Means you don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded sadly. “Even the dust layer on the glass was still there, and I can’t imagine how this was possible.”

“Dust? You let the Baby get dusty!?”

“Not that dusty, Dean,” Sam replied reassuringly. “I’ll clean it later. But what about the card?”

“And what about the card? Relax, Sam, it’s a Valentine’s day, after all, chicks love that stuff.”

“There were no chicks a mile around! Don’t you think it’s suspicious?”

Dean shrugged. “Nope.”

Sam snorted in disagreement, but said nothing.

“Aren’t these cards a traditional attribute of this holiday?” Castiel asked him.

“They are, but normally it’s people you know who send them, not strangers.”

“Maybe it wasn’t even for you,” Dean said, hoping he didn’t sound jealous. “Maybe she just liked the car.”

“Of course,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “How could I miss that.” For a moment, he was silent, then he went on, “But, Dean, seriously, no one we know could’ve left it.”

“So what? That’s the whole point of this day. To get that kinda stuff from anyone. Surprise, you know?” Dean giggled and looked at Castiel who still listened to them with a puzzled frown. “Am I right, Cas? He was a good guy, that Valentine, wasn’t he? Back from the days when the saints were still marching in.”

“Saint Valentine had never been marching anywhere,” Castiel said in a low voice.

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick glance and looked at him. It occurred to both of them suddenly, that Castiel wasn’t just answering. He could had actually met the Saint. Like, literally had met him somewhere in Heaven, and now he was just speaking the facts.

Sam took a chair and sat next to Castiel. The postcard with hearts, now completely forgotten, was thrown onto the map table, and by a funny romantic coincidence covered the whole territory of France.

“Wait, Cas. Do you... Did you know him?”

“Of course,” Castiel nodded. “Although not too closely.”

Dean’s mouth fell open. Even after numerous archangels and cupids, after Lucifer, after God himself, it felt somehow hard to believe that Castiel had been interacting with the saints as well. The saints you mention occasionally, sometimes barely remembering their story, were absolutely real to the angel a few thousand years old. Fascinating.

“Fascinating,” Dean repeated aloud, too stunned to say something else. “And?”

Castiel glanced up. “What do you want to know, Dean?”

Sam cleared his throat. “I guess, Dean is curious if the lore about him is true. The one that says Saint Valentine was executed for helping a young couple to marry.”

“It’s not the lore, Sam,” Castiel said with a hint of irritation. “It’s Wikipedia.”

“But...” Sam opened his laptop and rapidly typed a few words Ina search window. “Well, it’s not confirmed, and there is more than one story on that here but... Let me check, just to make sure...”

He went on scrolling the page. Dean stood up and bent over his shoulder to look at the screen too. The page outlined the common legends from early Roman era, when the marriages of the warriors were forbidden as distracting them of service. A noble man called Valentine felt compassionate to some legionnaire being deeply in love and helped him to marry the girl despite the ban. The truth came out somehow, and the poor guy was decapitated— without any actual chance to survive, given the dark times he happened to live in— shortly after. In another version of the story before his death, Valentine had cured a blind girl by giving her a holy message.

While Sam kept reading the lore, Dean noticed an image accompanying the text— the painting of the Saint, looking like some early Renaissance. An elderly bearded man was standing on a rocky plain, his face slightly down, right hand holding a short shining sword. Over his head there were two birds flying with their small heads deliberately turned to each other.

“Why the birds, Cas?” Dean asked with a sudden interest. “The guy covered the whole fauna, huh?”

“No. It’s from Chaucer.”

“Chaucer?” Sam said. “Like, Jeffrey Chaucer, the poet?”

“Yes. He...” Cas touched quickly the back of his neck, and Dean immediately recognized this gesture. “He used that metaphor in one of his longer poems.”

“‘The Bird Parliament’,” Sam read from the screen. “There's a quote from it saying that on Saint Valentine's Day every bird chooses his mate. Fourteenth century.”

“Exactly, Sam.”

Dean looked at the birds with fluffy black wings and the silver sword again. Wings. And blade. And a lonely sad man.

“That’s a hell of a coincidence, Cas,” he said slowly. “You sure you didn't have a finger in the pie?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow and looked away. “Well, actually it wasn’t myself,” he said. “I asked a muse.”

He looked so funny, with all that innocence and confusion in his every wrinkle, that Dean laughed.

“Attaboy, Cas,” he mumbled through his laughter, “Attaboy!”

Sam chuckled. “So what's happened?” he asked. “I mean, in real?”

“It's a long story.”

“We aren't in a hurry,” Dean said. “Are we, Sam? No, sure we aren't. C'mon, Cas, bring on the truth. The court is listening.”

Castiel sighed, as though reluctant to speak. There was still a trace of confusion in his expression, but all innocence was now gone.

“Well,” he said at last, “the truth is not as romantic as you probably think. Valentine lived in ancient Rome. He wasn't a noble man, in fact, he was very poor, hardly making his living as a recruited soldier. He happened to fall in love with a rich merchant's daughter. Although he'd never had a chance to marry her, he still wanted to tell her about his feelings. The girl was young and pretty, and her father never let her out alone, so Valentine decided to write her a letter. But he was illiterate, he didn't know any letters or how to compose words. He tore a piece of his tunic, from the chest, right where his heart was, and sent it to the girl with a pigeon messenger. The cloth was wrapped around the pigeon's leg, and as it was a relatively long flight, the pigeon landed in some garden midway. Its feet touched the pollen of flowers, and Valentine's cloth got some of it too. Accidentally, the color of the pollen was light red, and when the girl got her message, she guessed what it meant. Unfortunately, her father learned the story too. He got furious, and to protect his daughter from this inappropriate affair, he sent his servants to kill Valentine. The poor man never even found the girl had received his message. He died with her name on his lips.” Castiel paused briefly and then added, “You see, it's not romantic, as I've told you.”

“It is,” Sam said. “In fact, it is, Cas.”

“And it's damn sad,” Dean pointed out. “This merchant was a dick.”

“He wanted to protect his daughter, and there weren’t many options for him at these times.” Castiel breathed out a sigh. “But you are right, Dean. Anyway, with this story being so ordinary, Valentine would not have been canonized, so the lore was altered. Later, Chaucer was inspired to make a reference of Valentine’s story in his poem.”

Dean squinted meaningfully. “Inspired?”

“Yes,” Castiel said in a steady voice. “Personally, I think it was just fair to memorize that poor man in honor of all those who suffered for their sympathies.” He never added anything else, but he didn’t really need to. There was no one around to disagree. Quite happy with the silence, Castiel was studying the postcard on the table, as if this small piece of colored carton could serve as a solid proof to his last words. Then suddenly he said, “Sam, was is like that in the beginning?”

Sam followed his gaze and froze still. The hearts on the postcard changed their position— not scattered randomly anymore, now they were forming a word. A name, rather. And it clearly read, ‘Samuel’.

“What the…” Sam started to speak and cut off.

Dean took the card from the table. “The number of people calling you Samuel is about one,” he said with a shake of his head. “And we both know who this one is.”

“Rowena,” Sam muttered. “It’s gotta be Rowena, yeah… That’s why there was no trace of her near the car!”

“I believe that’s true,” Castiel said, looking at Sam with concern. “She could have left the card without literally touching any part of the car.”

Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder and grinned, “Congratulations, man! Well, honestly, she’s a bit older than you, like maybe four hundred years or something, but never mind. At least it’s not her son.”

“This is really fortunate, Sam,” Castiel added. He obviously meant it to sound helpful, but with Sam, it worked just the opposite way. He rushed up from his seat, visibly angry, wheezing and frowning. The idea of Rowena as his admirer certainly didn’t please Sam at all, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear any jokes about it.

“Screw you!” he swore. “Both of you!”

Sam turned abruptly and headed out of the room. He would calm down soon enough, but Dean knew better not to follow him right now.

When Sam’s steps faded away, Castiel looked back at Dean. His head was slightly tilted aside, his expression was thoughtful and serious— this very classic type of expression that Dean loved so much.

“You don’t need a similar card from me, Dean, do you?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Dean said, smiling. “I think, I don’t.”

[filmfanatix]

WHY I LIKE TEEN SLASHER MOVIES In summary, they’re fun to watch. Even if the script is bad, you come out of the theater with a shit-eating grin on your face telling everyone you just came from a roller-coaster ride inside. And if the script is really bad, you’ll still get a kick out of it too. Sappy dialogue, clichés, cheap special effects, and bad acting – I mean, what’s not to love? But for the uninitiated, here’s my list of why this horror/suspense genre is worth every single peso you paid for: 1. The characters. There’s aways bound to be one of these or a mix of these: a. The innocent lead star, usually female. b. The joker/sidekick friend. c. The blond, shallow, and narcissistic, popular girl. d. The jock. e. And where there’s a jock, there’s gotta be a nerd. f. The strange brother or parent or cousin. g. The mastermind, usually made to look like a mad scientist. h. And finally, there’s the monster. Their commonality – they all look like movie stars. After all, who wants to watch a film with plain-looking stars? 2. Tools used. a. If it were a vampire film, there’s the wooden stake and a mallet. b. In the same genre, there’s the indispensable crucifix hand held or worn around the neck, the bible, and the holy water. c. An overused cell phone that’s fun at the start but will soon wear itself out because there’s always no signal in the lair of monster. d. A gun, which will later on be unnecessary for the monster is always impervious to bullets. e. A flashlight preferably on its last remaining breaths before the battery conks out. f. A knife that will pierce and kill anyone except the monster. In fact in slasher films you’ll hardly see a gun as the weapon of choice by the killer. Guns are boring, knives mean there’s going to be a chase first before the slashing could happen. That’s why they’re called slasher films. g. A can of gasoline. In teen slasher movies, every house, barn, or school has one lying around. h. A beat-up pick-up truck that looks like it can travel the stretch between the house and the main road, before it stops dead. i. Keys to a car or a scary room but usually just for the car. Keys are interesting because there’s always a bunch of them held by a ring key holder so that we can get to scream as the teenager would be victim (they all die, so no surprised there) fumbles her or his way through the process. Either that or he keeps dropping it and starts all over. j. On the other hand, the key to a car is a key that doesn’t ever seem to fit the ignition because it keeps falling off the hole for some reason. k. The monster’s creepy, isolated lair. l. The monster's mask. Reference to Scream and Friday the 13th. Even Freddie Krueger's badly burned and melted face is a form of mask. 3. The dialogue. The dialogue in teen slasher films is very well defined and they’re sole purpose is to tell the audience that no matter what, these teeners will never follow what they’re being told. Typical! The rules of logic will never apply to them. Cliché dialogue also allows the viewers – mostly teenagers too – to confirm or face their fears like some form of a catharsis. They include: a. Don’t go in there! b. Stay where you are/stay right here. c. Hello? Is anyone there? d. I’ll be right behind you. e. Don’t have sex or you’ll die. f. Trust me, I’m a police officer – teenagers defy order so with institutions that restrict their actions like the police or the school principal and faculty, even the religious order like the priest or a nun, will never be followed. Which is just as well because oftentimes in many slasher films, the first to die are the police, the priest, or the professor anyway. g. There’s something out there/He’s out there. h. It’s all in your mind. i. Oh my God, run! j. Eat this or suck on this! Or any prevailing teen dialogue being used commonly by teens at the time of the movie. k. If you let me go I swear I won’t tell on you. l. Go to hell! Burn in hell! m. I killed him, he’s dead (referring to the monster). This is of course untrue because in teen slasher films, the monster never really dies. With the monster infinitely more interesting than the other stars of the film, the producers’ money is really on him or her because they mean one thing, that vulgar F word - “franchise.” The real star of Friday The 13th is Jason, in Predator the alien, Nightmare on Elm Street, Freddy Krueger. The list goes on. 4. So who gets killed first in a teen slasher movie? Why the blonde of course. I think teen slasher movie writers are given a bible to follow and whoever wrote the bible equally hates the cliché, “blondes have more fun.” This person therefore is out to show the world that, well, no they don’t. Could this person be a plain-looking brunette? 5. But the more interesting question is, apart from the lead, who gets killed the last? Is it the jock who’s usually partnered with the sexy blonde? Or the nerd? Come to think of it nerds have more fun in teen slasher films that to kill them off early in the movie sometimes takes away a point of interest. Teenagers I think relate to the witty nerds as many of us do. Besides they always have this bored, incredulous look on their face that they know what happens next and that the script sucks. 6. How they’re killed. Because this genre is called a teen slasher film, the teens are of course subjected to a lot of decapitation. As expected the sexy blonde gets her just desserts by being slashed where it matters – the face. Sometimes her entire head gets cut off. This spells doom for the actress who plays her because she isn’t going to be in any sequel. The nerd usually dies very creatively and by his or her greatest fear. If he fears since childhood that ominous shadow, then the shadow kills him. If it’s the boogey man, then that’s what he gets. The jock, for some reason, isn’t killed straight away. His muscles and lack of mental abilities means he can be very useful in tight places en route to the final battle between good or evil. 7. It is during the final battle that the romantic interest of the lead star is either killed or temporarily incapacitated. Because the lead star is almost always a girl, she needs to be rescued as the monster gets at her after a prolonged chase. Sometimes he is killed off too like all the rest. But he’s a dispensable character anyway so I don’t really care. 8. The final battle and how this to me makes the movie worth it or not. If it makes it too easy for the lead protagonist to win against the monster, then the writers sold out. For me, there’s nothing like an extended battle scene where the lead now calls the shots. Like in the Home Alone movies, I get that adrenaline shot when you know good will prevail against evil but let evil work for it for a change. After all he will come back for the sequel.

[etcetezine-blog]

Put That In Etcetezine--I Mean, The Yearbook!

“Senior quote ideas!

Binterong

Celebrities

Oprah:

“You get a car, and you get are car, everybody gets a car!”

“Think like a queen. A queen is not afraid to fail. Failure is another steppingstone to greatness.”

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”

“Some women have a weakness for shoes... I can go barefoot if necessary. I have a weakness for books.”

“Step Away from the Mean Girls…

…and say bye-bye to feeling bad about your looks.

Are you ready to stop colluding with a culture that makes so many of us feel physically inadequate? Say goodbye to your inner critic, and take this pledge to be kinder to yourself and others. This is a call to arms. A call to be gentle, to be forgiving, to be generous with yourself. The next time you look into the mirror, try to let go of the story line that says you're too fat or too sallow, too ashy or too old, your eyes are too small or your nose too big; just look into the mirror and see your face. When the criticism drops away, what you will see then is just you, without judgment, and that is the first step toward transforming your experience of the world.”

Emeril Lagasse:

“Bam!”

“If somebody has a chance to put my food in their mouth, that tells the story.”

Bill Clinton:

“I did not have sexual relations with that woman”

“When I was in England I experimented with marijuana a time or two -- and didn't like it -- and didn't inhale and never tried inhaling again.”

“I tried marijuana once. I did not inhale.”

“Sometimes when people are under stress, they hate to think, and it's the time when they most need to think.”

“You can put wings on a pig, but you don't make it an eagle.”

“When our memories outweigh our dreams, it is then that we become old.”

“Being President is like being the groundskeeper in a cemetery: there are a lot of people under you, but none of them are listening.”

“If you want to live like a Republican, vote like a Democrat.”

James Earl Jones:

“This is CNN”

“I don't ever want to be a sentimentalist. I prefer to be a realist. I'm not a romantic really.”

“Acting is not about anything romantic, not even fantasy, although you do create fantasy.”

“Speech is a very important aspect of being human. A whisper doesn't cut it.”

“The world is filled with violence. Because criminals carry guns, we decent law-abiding citizens should also have guns. Otherwise they will win and the decent people will lose.”

Groucho Marx:

“Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others”

“Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies”

“I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.”

“Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana”

“One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I'll never know.”

“I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.”

“Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.”

“When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'.”

“I never forget a face, but in your case I'll be glad to make an exception.”

“I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it.”

“I'm not crazy about reality, but it's still the only place to get a decent meal.”

“He may look like an idiot and talk like an idiot but don't let that fool you. He really is an idiot.”

“If a black cat crosses your path, it signifies that the animal is going somewhere.”

“Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, and I'm going to be happy in it.”

“Anyone who says he can see through women is missing a lot.”

“Whatever it is, I'm against it.”

Books, TV Shows, and Movies of Our Childhood

The Suite Life of Zach and Cody:

“It was supposed to be a honey mist auburn!” Cody Martin “well honey you missed auburn bugtime” Zack Martin

“Yay Me!!!!” London tipton

London: I don't like this tangerine! Maddie: No, that is a Tam-bo-rine! A tangerine is what the audience is gonna throw at you!

Max: Everyone knows nothing rhymes with orange. Tapeworm: Oh yeah? What about "snorange"? Max: Thank you, Dr. Seuss.

Cody: Zachary! Zack: Codery!

Zack: I know he's having a miserable time. We have twin telepathy. It's like my brain is receiving phone calls from him.

Carey: Well, you have a bad connection. Hang up. Zack: Uh, uh. I can sense these things. Remember when Cody broke his leg and I sensed it? Carey: That's because you fell on him and broke it.

Cody: [on cell phone answering machine] Hi. This Cody using my mother's phone. Leave a message, and remember: numbers are your friend.

Moseby: Are you familiar with the gear shift? London: You mean the PRNDL? [PRNDL pronounced "prindle] Moseby: Are you referring to the shift lever that says P-R-N-D-L? London: I'm not a child Moseby, I know how to spell PRNDL. Moseby: It's not something that you spell, it is a gear shift. The letters stand for Park, Reverse, Neutral, Drive, and Low!! London: You're making me nervous with all this technical talk. Moseby: Oh! I'm sorry, Why don't we just relax, turn on the radio. Would you like AMMM or FMMMM?!

London: there are no buildings on the highway.

Maddie: Well in all fairness to London I have to say, even though I was being held against my will - and my lawyers will be in touch - she did a pretty good job driving up here.

Cody: Don't move anywhere! Your cornered around with my knowledge! Zack: Sure the only fighting skills he has is his brain.

Mr. Moseby: Your father has to stay incognito. London: Where is Cognito? Mr. Moseby: In hiding. London: Where is Hiding?

Maddie: It's a special night. Don't make me slap you.

London: Hey, every time I'm in the paper, my social life just gets better and better.

Moseby: We don't have a dungeon, but I can have him fired.

Cody: I've gotta win this science award. Then I can get into M.I.T. and invent a nanobot that eats oil spills and be able to retire comfortably while taking care of my aging mother and paying my brother's bail money.

Zack: So dyslexic, I am? Mr. Forgess: Well, it like looks it--I mean, it looks like it.

Kurt: That's what your mother said when she left me, and a few other things I can't mention.

London: It's just there are so many beautiful things out there to buy. How can you possibly resist them?

London: Yep. I've hit rock bottom. And I don't like rock bottom. It's so rock bottomy.

London: Daddy always says, competition's a good thing. It's a chance to crush people.

London: Well, you were wrong, with a capital R.

Cody:  Zack, this is a chance for us to really help people. I'm thinking about working with kids...You better take this seriously or you're gonna fail while I get an A. Zack: You're one of the kids I hate.

Carey: [to the twins] Hey, guys. What'cha been doing? Cody: Inspiring people to reach their full potential and achieve their dreams.

Maddie: You're going down! London: You're going downer!

Cody: [to Sanjay] Don't listen to him. That's what he always says right before we get grounded.

Zack: I have a plan… ,Cody:  Don't listen to him. That's what he always says right before we get grounded... Correction. That's what he always says right before we get grounded.

Warren: It's elegant yet casual. Bob: It's sophisticated yet tasteful. Zack: I think it's stupid yet stupid.

Trevor: And then she said "who" instead of "whom". I'm not a grammar snob, but it's just egregious when somebody uses the subjective case instead of the accusative case, hahaha!

Esteban: [sings] Rock-a-bye, chicken, in the tree top. Watch out for the farmer. Your head he will chop. [the children start crying] Zack: Don't you know any lullabies that don't involve decapitating poultry?

Moseby: At the league of extraordinary hotel managers. If only I could find out which guest he is, then I could make sure he gets the perfect dining experience.

Carey: If I give you guys pets, will you stop bugging me? Twins: Yes. Carey: Pet rocks. Don't overfeed them. Cody: I'm gonna name mine Tim.

Zack: You don't have to do everything Mr. Moseby says. We like to think of his rules more as... suggestions.

Cody: It's about doing your homework, eating your broccoli when Mom isn't looking! Zack: You offered it to me! Cody: Yeah, because that's what brothers do for each other! But it's never reciprocal! Zack: Huh? Cody: Reciprocal means it would be nice if you did something for me for a change! Zack: I did! You offered me money and I took it!

Carey: Relax, Cody. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Cody: I'm not putting too much pressure on me. Harvard's putting too much pressure on me! Yale is putting too much pressure on me! Princeton! M.I.T! Stanford! Do you think they're out there looking for under-achievers? If I don't ace woodshop, I'll end up being one of those guys who sells hot dogs and sleeps in a taxi!

Zack: Do you think wood grows on trees?

Moseby: You know, the older I get, the more I realize that you have to look adversity in the face and say 'You don't scare me.'

Zack: That works for me. Because if tomorrow is going to be today again, then today is actually yesterday, which means that yesterday's homework isn't due today, it's really due... tomorrow!

London: Moseby, it's your birthday? Wait, you have a birthday?? Since when??? Mr. Moseby: Pretty much since the day I was born. Hence the term birth-day.

Mr. Moseby: Don't talk, and listen. Now, I am not going to fire Armando. I mean, you're the one who ruined the show. By the way, what happened to his real assistant?

Mr. Moseby: Oh ya, the oooops always makes it better. Perhaps you'd stick some bacon in my ears

Zack: The point is, there's a lot of great adventures out there, but you can't have any of them stuck in here with a bunch of weird bald dudes.

Mr. Moseby: In the weekend, that must be failed in the treasure hunt we'll never be able to do. Because of me, that always has to do with that the end of the story.

iCarly:

“In three two one, i know you see somehow the world will change for me and be so wonderful”

“You’ll rue the day carly shay, rue it!” Neville

Spencer: Well, it seems our sign is so bright and dazzling, it distracted one of the drivers below. [Hears another car crash] Actually, two of the driver-- [Another crash] Three of the dr-- [Another crash] Literally, many of the drivers below are being distracted by our extremely dazzling sign.

Spencer: Alright, don't worry too much about this yet, just... go do your homework or something. Carly: Kay. Spencer: I mean... YOU GO DO YOUR HOMEWORK RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY! Carly: Yes, sir! Spencer: AND JUST SAY NO! Carly: Always! Spencer: AND STAY IN SCHOOL! Carly: Maybe.

Carly: I'm not a child! I'm just young and short.

Spencer: No, there's a distinction. This is her homework schedule and a number for a tutor because she's been having a little trouble with science. These are the vitamins that she needs to take everyday. I only give her the ones shaped like dinosaurs. Granddad: Why? Spencer: Dinosaurs are cool. Oh, and she's really into drinking coffee, [whispers] but I always give her decaf without telling her.

Spencer: [to camera] Never forget to buy candy on Halloween.

Sam: This thing is full of top-notch freaks, mutants and psychos!

Sam: Ooh! I got kicked out of the cafeteria for slapping Gibby with a piece of pizza.

Carly: [speaking very fast] Yes, I did, too! He told me that he can beat his dad in arm wrestling, and I said, "No way," and he said, "Oh, no, it's true," and I said, "Wow, you must be really strong," and he said, "Well, I work out a little bit," and I said, "Really?" And he said, "Yeah, you wanna feel my biceps?" And I said, "Sure, I do," and so I felt them, and they felt awesome.

High School Musical:

“Cause its the start of something new…”

“Once a wildcat, always a wildcat” Troy Bolton

“I always liked the idea of being in charge of my future, until it actually started happening” Troy Bolton

“Ah microwave popcorn. Haha very funny” Troy Bolton

“Hip hop is my passion. I love to pop, and lock, and jam, and break.” Martha Cox

“It’s called crime and punishment Bolton. Besides, proximity to the arts is cleansing for the soul”

“Hey you know what? Someday you guys might thank me for this, or not” MC at the game

“While we are working, let us probe the mounting evils of cell phones… perhaps the most heinous example of cell phone use is ringing in the theater. The theater is a chapel of arts, a precious cornucopia of creative energy.” Ms. Darbus

Sky High:

“What a waste. I can't do anything more to help you. I'm not Wonder Woman, you know” Principle powers

“What's embarrassing him in front of the entire class going to prove? That is so unfair” Layla  “Yeah, well if life were to suddenly get fair, I doubt it would happen in high school’ Will Stronghold

“Now I know it's just our first day, but I already can't wait to graduate and start saving mankind... And womankind. And animalkind” Layla

“There's only one person authorized to transport superheroes: Ron Wilson - Bus Driver” Ron Wilson, Bus Driver

“And now, so many years later, that plan is complete. My only regret: This may be the finest super-villian speech ever given - and you don't even know what I'm saying!” Gwen

Ultra-Niche

“See you on the flip side!” Janet Anderson

“Make it a great day, or not, the choice....... is yours.” SPMS

Vines

“A potato flew around my room”

“Do it for the vine” Rip Vine

“F*** Ya chicken strips” That guy from vine

“You’ll never be s*** duck, you’re just like your father!”

“What up I’m Jared I’m nineteen and I never f****** learned how to read” Jared, 19

[thelifetimechannel]

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