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hollybell51 · 2 years ago

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

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perseruna · 7 months ago

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heyyyy do you have any details/sources for the ca*ill being a jackass thing? ngl i watch twn for yen and jaskier so i was already planning on continuing to season 4 but i'd love some reasons to be actively excited for the actor switch. but i haven't kept up on the behind-the-scenes stuff so i'm kinda lost on that front if you're up for sharing any of what you know!

okay guys buckle up this is THE anti henry cavill megathread xoxo

First of all him dating a teenager as a 33 year old fully grown man literally gross and disgusting.

Also as this quote implies they started dating a year prior and only went public when she was 19 so they supposedly started dating when she was 18.

His entire dating history is a MESS. Sure the women he dated are not him, but he chose to date them, I wouldn't even associate myself with people like these let alone be in a relationship with them. He dated the infamous transphobic TERF Gina Carano, albeit before her loud controversy, but I doubt her harmful views were any different back then. His current gf has a history of doing black face.

His "Me Too" comments.

His comments on the Me Too movement are literally so vile. If you don’t want to be called a rapist, just don’t rape women, it’s literally as simple as that. They’re even more foul because they’re promoting the idea that women lie about their abusive for fame, promoting that harmful rhetoric especially in our times is incredibly dangerous.

Now onto his on set behavior.

We can't talk about his set behavior without mentioning the deuxmoi set leak. Here's the transcript of it:

[Transcript:

There’s something I really really wanted to read to you guys--it has to do with why Henry Cavill left The Witcher. I know that was something that you guys were super interested in when it happened, and I just recently got this message. Somebody was like “Hey, do you want to know what really went down?” And I was like “Sure!” So let me just read it. It says:

“At the beginning of the show, Henry was good to work with. A lot of difficult demands that made people feel like he wasn’t a team player, but that’s not unusual for a really big star. Though in TV it truly usually doesn’t happen until the second season. But in season two and three something shifted and he became really impossible for women to work with, which is always a big problem, but even worse here because the showrunner is a woman. He would try to overrule her and try to get changes made last minute across the board without her knowledge, which, if you know anything about showrunning, is completely fucked. The showrunner has to sign off on every miniscule detail down to the buttons on a costume. Female writers and directors were suddenly being completely ignored on set, unable to do their jobs. Every department head was complaining. He started making comments—it wasn’t a sexual thing, he wasn’t grabbing anyone or being lewd, but it was disrespectful and toxic all the same.

“He is deeply addicted to video games, to the point where it was like working with any other addict. He was distracted, he was late, he was obsessive, and a lot of people think the misogyny came from gamer world. Video game bro language is not how you talk to coworkers, and he wouldn’t stop. Someone on the show compared it to watching someone get brainwashed by QAnon, like his whole personality shifted. Eventually his disrespect escalated. He would rewrite scenes without even alerting the other actors in the scenes until it was time to shoot. He decided that he didn’t want any romantic scenes at all—no kissing scenes, no shirtless scenes, et cetera. He wanted complete control of storylines but really had no idea of the limitations of TV, structure, budget, et cetera. He formed a weird alliance with one writer who was also a gamer, who eventually got fired after multiple HR complaints were made and after that writer left, Henry did anything he could to hold up production and cause problems.

“Eventually top brass at Netflix was tired of him costing them money with delays and HR investigations and the showrunner was asked to construct a potential exit for him. Netflix reached out to him personally and he was given one final warning, and violated that warning with an email he sent to the entire writing staff right after that meeting. That was it. It’s very disappointing.”

End transcript.]

Now believe me or not, but I know from a really good source that the leak was indeed real.

There's a lot of patterned behavior that tracks with what we know of him and his past controversies.

After that leak came out, there was a lot of people from different places coming to comment that ‘yes’ they’ve heard a very similar story adding a little bit more details of their own.

this quickly deleted tweet from one of the writers/producers:

there were rumors about him being an asshole to Anya specifically.

He went on record that he doesn't "understand" sex scenes. Which I know the sex discourse is rampant nowadays and each to their own, but he specifically signed up for a role that requires those scenes and then refused to do them and was allegedly nasty to Anya about it and with the way he talks about women...

Also it’s important to touch upon the “writer he had a weird alliance with” that man in question is Beau DeMayo of the recent fame of getting fired by Marvel from X-Men ‘97. He was previously allegedly fired from The Witcher for being emotionally and physically abusive. And he allegedly got fired from X-Men for being abusive as well. One of The Witcher writers tweeted this after Beau smeared them for “disliking the books” Beau was literally the first person to start that narrative.

The fact that it was HIS idea not to say lines of his dialogue in S1 and instead grunt. To the point that Joey had to take Henry’s lines and make it his own, so the plot would make sense, he talks about it in this interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=Oyh0t117t0U&, and then once S2 press arrived Henry was talking about how he was trying to fight the big bad writers to give him more lines. Ridiculous.

Everyone is already pointing out that the cast looks so much happier without him, and it’s very true. Henry was never present on close to any BTS pics from filming the previous seasons, or on any cast dinners or birthdays. He wouldn't even do any shared interviews with the other three mains but only had solo interviews which to me was giving disrespectful like you're an ensemble you’re not the only lead here. It felt like he was above them to sit down and answer questions with them. When they were doing press junkets in Brazil and Poland Anya, Joey and Freya would always arrive together and leave together with that man leaving all the events early and by himself. And like people who post quotes from the cast about him being perfect from press junkets as “proof” are insane to me like Obviously they’re going to say nice things about him, not only they're newcomers, and he's an established industry name, but they’re doing PRESS for a show that he’s a STAR of (well, was lmao)

The fact that he never defended Anya from the racist trolls, even though most of them were HIS fans. Like she had to go through so much and that man couldn’t make a single comment about it as a leading man BUT he could make a whole IG post because people were being mean to his gf and calling her out for doing blackface.

And sure people might say that a lot of these are unverified sources, and I’d get it if it was a singular case, but there are a ton of these accounts that all match each other. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

#anti henry cavill #the witcher #mega thread

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clairenatural · 1 year ago

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what is the pizza man montage?

oh my god anon i am so excited to be the one that gets to tell you about the pizza man montage

the pizza man montage is what they ran as the "then" at the beginning of 15x13, Destiny's Child. It begins with the "if the pizza man truly loves this babysitter" Cas quote/scene and then cuts to Cas kissing Meg and saying "I learned that from the pizza man" but then is just??? 10 seconds of multiple clips of Dean eating pizza. Starting with Ruby calling Dean the pizza man in 4x01. just. explicitly setting up Dean as The Pizza Man.

And for what, you ask????? well we don't know. we just don't know!!!! the episode had nothing to do with pizza. meg is in it briefly (well. the empty taking meg's form) and so is ruby but then why????? make dean The Pizza Man????? it looks like a destiel fan edit but no they made it and approved it and aired it on television. for what. why.

anyway you can watch the whole thing here

youtube

#wanted to end this with ''why lamp" would people still get that #anonymous #answered

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queermania · 2 years ago

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Wait wait wait. Jensen picked the writer who gave Dean a lesbian best friend and made him a nerd to be the show runner for his little fixit fic show? This is amazing!

when you look at robbie's run of episodes (that he wrote specifically, not produced or was the executive story editor on), a very specific version of supernatural and dean starts to emerge and it is insanity-inducing. here's a very brief rundown of the episodes robbie wrote:

slash fiction -swayze always gets a pass -dean singing air supply -"it's like eating self-righteousness' -the creation and introduction of frank devereaux -"applications for sainthood" -dean letting sam go

time after time -"what are you gonna look up more anime or are you strictly into dick now?" -dean being a nerdy little fanboy about eliott ness (and checking out a dude in a uniform but that was probably jacting joices) -dean getting excited about dressing up in period clothing!! -understanding that rufus matters and that family isn't just blood -original sam is milf!bait (and he's into it) truther -actually writing grief in nuanced ways -dean is smart and resourceful actually! -your future is "covered in thick black ooze" (which i know is just a very lucky coincidence but i don't care!)

the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo -CHARLIE!!! he gave us charlie. he said "actually what if hardcore fans were cool and fun and GAY and they were dean's new best friend" -charlie/dean/security guard flirting split screen -"she's kinda like the little sister I never wanted." "how does a high-school dropout become one of the brightest minds…" -basically this entire episode is just "be gay, do crime" and i love that for me specifically

bitten -not my favorite episode but as @ilarual says "it's very fun in how it illustrates Robbie's willingness to play with form, since it's all done as found footage" -and as @doctorprofessorsong says it "has the concept of monsters aren’t always bad guys" -and apparently it contains a brokeback reference? my memory of this episode is hovering at around 1% tbh but you get it

larp and the real girl -dressing dean up in little outfits AGAIN -and he likes it!!! -and he likes being a nerd! (dean is getting into it and sam is the one who is unamused mr serious guy!!!!) -and charlie is dean's new best friend! -"belladonna" "the pornstar?" -"did you break up with someone too?" -honestly you already know all of it. this is a fan favorite for a reason. what more can i say about this episode??

goodbye stranger -yes robbie was the first writer to try to give us a destiel love confession -cas practicing killing dean over and over and over and still not being able to do it when it comes down to it -"what broke the connection?" gee i wonder -first episode writing cas and he nailed the sort of unintentional deadpan humor that makes cas so lovable ("would it kill you to watch a movie? read a book?" "a movie, no, but with a book with the proper spells—yeah, it could theoretically kill me.") -"if he's so sketchy then why are you praying to him?" -pizza man reference -"do you really think we can trust megstiel?" (we get both megstiel and jealous!dean) -dean quoting lord of the rings (because he's a nerd! and he reads!) -meg roasting the shit out of sam for the amelia stuff -etc

pac-man fever -charlie reading the carver edlund books -charlie and dean being besties/getting a montage -dean telling charlie that what happened with her parents wasn't her fault/understanding the guilt she feels -"i love you" "i know" -"what about castiel? he seems helpful, and dreamy" -again, putting dean in little outfits -charlie knows how to shoot/aim a gun

slumber party -dorothy!! -oz!!! -look, is this episode cheesy? yes. but it's fun and it's so obviously a love letter to the oz source material and i love that about robbie. he does his research and he commits

first born -cain!!!! -drowley team up!!!!! ("friends. besties, actually." im sorry but drowley means so much to me personally and this is the start of their beautiful bromance) -"this is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." "yeah, well, it's early" -cas liked pb&js!! jelly, not jam. he found jam unsettling!! -"you have a guinea pig? where?" -"you're a terrible liar?" "that is not true. i once deceived and betrayed both you and your brother." -just. sastiel shenanigans (and hugs!) -"she only asked for one thing." "to stop" -anyway. you get it.

meta fiction -dean and cas phone call smiles!! they LIKE each other -metatron media dump -"what makes a story work? is it the plot, the characters, the text? the subtext? and who gives a story meaning? is the writer? or you?" -i think it's important to note that robbie who wrote gabriel faking his own death -cas noticing something is wrong with dean pretty much instantly and then discovering the mark of cain

fan fiction -i mean. come on. -"although we do explore the nature of destiel in act two." -"you can't spell subtext without s-e-x" -sam being such a younger brother and trolling dean about "destiel" -"BM scene" -dean "you know they're brothers, right?"-ing the w*ncest stuff but just being flustered about the destiel stuff ayyyy -dean casually referencing andrew lloyd webber -"transformative fiction" -"i want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can" -dean quoting rent -the samulet is back! -"i have my version, and you have yours." -"he took away our own free will" <- about john!! -THE RETURN OF CHUCK!

there's no place like home -"i forgive you dean" "yeah well i don't" "i know, kinda your move" -"you hurt my friend" -"you lied to me" "you lied to yourself. that's kinda your move." -i mean. robbie just gets it, ya know?

book of the damned -cas being a huge bitch (love that) -sam being the excessively codependent one -cas and charlie get to meet! -found family goodness if only for a little bit!!

angel heart -ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!! -"i got it at the hot topical" (and claire keeping grumpy cat) -no seriously. dean and cas went birthday present shopping together for claire and they did it at a mall -castiel feeling guilt for what he did to the novak family (and amelia recognizing that cas has changed/grown) -"you were both troubled teens. you speak her language." -"bring your daughter to work day" -"i'm saying she might be stronger on her own." which is a controversial line but i think it says something really significant about how dean feels about his childhood "in fact you're not anything to her except a constant reminder of someone that's gone." -mini golf!!!!!! dean and claire bonding!!!! -the introduction of the grigori, a class of angels which may or may not be important at some point -claire roasting the shit out of dean with "you seem pretty old" <3 -"happy birthday. don't shoot me."

baby -do i really need to explain anything about this one? -"okay first of all, never use swayze's name in vain, okay? ever." -"mistakes were made" -dean having a dream about john teaching him to drive but under normal and appropriate circumstances -werepire…. ghoulpyre… -honestly just the whole episde. you know what i'm talking about. the unique perspective. the insight into their day-to-day lives. the moments that live in between.

into the mystic -eileen! my best friend eileen! -dean x mildred otp -remembering sam's lucifer/hell trauma -the whole "follow your heart" speech -"banshees go after the vulnerable, so why'd it go after you?" -dean recognizing there's something off with cas -but really the most important thing here is EILEEN

safe house -bobby and rufus!!!! -i repeat BOBBY AND RUFUS!!!! -"were you ever nice?" "1985. worst year of my life." -robbie just really GETS that this show is more fun when it's not centered entirely on the brothers. -bobby referring to sam and dean as his boys -timey wimey shenanigans -there were some interesting implications in this episode too but i'm losing steam here so i'm gonna let you rewatch and figure it out lol

don't call me shurley -the reveal of chuck as god!!!! -bisexual chuck -dean does sam's laundry (sometimes with beer) -chuck is a shitty egotistical writer -he also plays the guitar and: "i like front row seats. you know, i figured i'd hide out in plain sight." -"i thought if i could show my sister that there was something more than just us, something better than us, then maybe she'd change. maybe she'd stop being… her. but every time I'd build a new world, she'd destroy it." -"the world would still be spinning with demon dean in it but sam couldn't have that though could he?" -"you were gonna choose amara over me."

so. yeah. jensen chose THIS GUY to helm the winchesters. bold move, sir. full respect.

also, this tweet always makes me crack up

one of us! one of us! one of us!

#replies #anonymous #robbie thompson #mp

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tiktaalic · 2 months ago

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sorry to ask you, a destiel blog, this, but i trust your opinion and i havent seen enough eps to figure this out for myself. is there any other person castiel has a romantic/sexual bond - obviously not as strong as the one with dean - that's compelling enough in its own right? dean has quite a few but i never see anyone talk about cas and someone else except like. meg? whom i love but she was the janice to his damian the sharpay to his ryan the grace to his will etc. to me

I think the only like. “Real” one. Is Crowley. Cas doesn’t have a lot of friends. I can’t remember if this is true or not but I think I remember the intent on page of Cas’s insane reactions to Dean/anna being. Cas liking anna? But don’t quote me on that. Ummm. There’s Hannah which is really funny but not reciprocated by cas. Hannah got hag zoned by the man they’re in love then transitioned to try to fuck cas anyway. (Didn’t work). Crowley kind of the only character cas has any form of relationship depth with. I don’t personally find it compelling but it’s a pretty relatively mainstream opinion that they were hooking up in s6 when cas is working with him behind Dean’s back. I will give it points for it being funny if Crowley slept with cas (which Dean hated) AND Dean (which cas hated) at separate points and then after they get together hit them with can I PLEASE be your third and they both go. No. Kill yourself.

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notmorbid · 1 month ago

Text

grey dog.

dialogue prompts from grey dog by elliott gish.

to my future self: my apologies, and godspeed.

i do not travel well, at the best of times.

i was raised in a small town. they suit me very well.

let's get a bit of supper in you.

happiness is an act of will.

there are two gods: the god of inside, and the god of outside.

who are you?

you frightened me. i thought i was alone.

you're never alone out here.

more hands make less work.

every day it gets better. you just mind that.

i feel wrung out as an old rag.

the fiercest tigers make the best mothers.

what a mess i've made of you.

i was about to put the kettle on.

i like you as you are.

rumors fly faster and further than the truth.

you deserve a chance to let your hair down.

certain things are not to be discussed.

is there anything more tiresome than a sunday school picnic?

there's no such thing as witches.

i thought it would be a dreadful trial, but you made it easy.

you are a perfect strawberry.

it will get worse before it gets better.

every town needs its witch, doesn't it? someone to whisper about in the dark?

i thought of ___ as a friend.

a young girl's reputation is as fragile as ice on a water bucket.

i don't want you to be alone in the dark.

i'm glad you came here.

you're the last thing i expected to find here.

a child may know that there are no monsters under the bed, but he will take a running leap onto the mattress, anyway. just in case.

nothing occurs in the natural world that cannot be understood through patient observation.

you can always follow me out of the dark.

if i am to drink hemlock, then let it be in good company.

you're going to run out of exclamation points, if you don't use them more sparingly.

don't you quote scripture at me.

did you think i materialized fully formed in this house?

i have a past, just as you do. just as everyone does.

widowhood has much to recommend it.

you must be going mad with boredom.

it does not become you, this passion for tragedy.

if that happened to me, i would hate god.

how have you been keeping?

you spoke the truth, and shamed the devil every time.

you have never loved anything but your own blessed reputation.

it was ordinary, in the beginning. i must remember that.

there are always eyes in the dark.

it isn't in the bible, but that doesn't mean it isn't so.

you are many things to me, but a mother is not one of them.

i can't imagine you crying.

a holiday might do you good.

my nerves are raw as meat.

i want to fend off sleep and dreams as long as i can.

it's funny, isn't it, the things that frighten us as children.

a monster seen is a monster that can be dealt with.

the shine is off the world.

you can come in, you know.

pretty is as pretty does.

what has happened to you?

whatever happened, god didn't stop it. doesn't that make it his will?

it will be alright, won't it?

you should've told me. i would have made you a cake.

did you never have birthday parties when you were a child?

so many unhappy memories. we must make a better one.

what is happening to me?

perhaps you could read to me?

i know it's a bit childish, but i like being read to when i'm not well.

there was a knock. surely you heard it.

watch me from the shadows, will you? whisper my name? come out and look me in the eye.

why are you laughing? what is it that you find so very funny?

get out of here right now, or you will catch it.

you and i know how much more there is out there in the wide, wild world.

not enraged. outraged.

what do you have to cry about?

i don't want to hear. i don't want to see.

i may be doomed, but i am not mad.

no one has ever wanted me so much.

an older sister can fix anything.

i really thought i would be able to simply carry on.

idle hands are the devil's playthings.

i need to speak to you about that night.

you are my friend. the truest friend i have.

i want to understand what happened. and to help, if i can.

a hurt animal will bite, even when someone is trying to dress its wounds.

i don't care about inconvenience, or what people think. i care about you.

you're solicitous as an angel.

i can scarcely remember the last time i wasn't nervous.

your voice is not your own, nor your expression.

i am well used to lying by omission.

it does not do for a woman to be too clever.

isn't that strange? to hate someone you have never met?

it spoke to me. it knew my name.

i don't want to be in the dark.

you know, don't you? you know for certain.

i tried to turn back, but i couldn't.

when you say 'it', what do you mean?

it's worse than not having it at all: having it, and then not having it.

is the truth something i owed you?

if i owe you my past, do you owe me yours?

every woman is full of tragedies. she is obliged to share them with no one but god.

i have nothing but questions, and no answers.

i am like a lost handkerchief: i turn up when i'm least expected.

i only did what you asked of me.

fear makes you ugly.

you are such an innocent, in spite of everything.

can you not recognize when you are being wooed?

no one has ever wooed me before.

people avoid me now.

a woman laughing is always a disturbing thing for a man to witness.

the value of knowledge does not need to be justified by utility.

you have never thought of what is best for me. only what is best for you.

what power have you over me now?

it pains me to see you so changed.

i am more myself than i have ever been before.

i am not a thing that you can shape. not anymore.

the prospect of being hanged sharpens the mind most wonderfully.

your heart is cold. beneath that skin of yours is only ice, not blood.

i have so little patience left.

you must take this to your grave.

there are a lot of stories about you.

you get to where you can recognize it. that look someone has.

intentions and prayers are useless to me.

#historical meme #horror meme #rp meme #rp memes #sentence starters #ask memes #inbox memes #ask meme #rp prompts #lgbt #magical realism

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 year ago

Text

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 24

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 10/11/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk. Chapter Warning: Heavy themes in this chapter. That is all I will say so as not to ruin anything. Feel free to reach out for more details before reading.

Chapter Quote: "Why? Are you afraid you might actually feel something?

In the days that followed Gabby’s visit, I couldn’t shake off her obvious concern for her brother’s wellbeing, or the details of what he had been up to. Before our conversation, I was doing well to keep my thoughts about him at bay. But now, images of his darkened eyes and broken appearance would creep in when I was least expecting it. Knowing he was unwilling to engage with Gabby and Alex was the biggest red flag of them all. It made me question whether he was doing okay. Knowing that the answer was most likely a “no”, weighed heavily on me. Even so, it felt like none of it mattered anymore. There was nothing I could do to change his behavior or help him. If there was one thing he had made clear during our unexpected encounter, it was that he did not care about my thoughts or feelings any longer.

The constant pressure of these new intrusive thoughts caused me to further throw myself into my work. It was one of the few things that I could control in my life. Working overtime nearly every day was starting to wear me out, but it was exactly what I needed to stay distracted at all times. I reasoned that if I decided to take a new position, everything had to be in order. Therefore, I poured myself in making sure there would be detailed instructions for whoever would be taking over my duties.

It was 6 PM and I was two hours into preparing a detailed account audit report when I heard the downstairs door open, followed by Lauren yelling to announce herself. I called back to let her know I was in my office, where she appeared a little later holding two coffees from our favorite local spot. Without a word, she walked in and set one down on the desk beside my laptop. I glanced up at her, surprised by her unexpected visit, and by the fact she came bearing gifts in the form of sugar and caffeine.

“Thanks for not scaring this shit out of me this time,” I said with a smile as I reached for the coveted beverage and took a sip. She laughed nervously. I eyed her, picking up on her weird vibes.

“Alright, what’s going on?” I asked as I leaned back in my chair.

“Nothing is going on… per se.”

“If this is about that infamous stray cat...” I trailed off as I raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

“What ca… oooh no. No, the cat is a non-issue. He’s been good the last few days.” A wide grin spread across her face.

“One of these days, I do hope you’ll clarify what you’re talking about in reference to that cat…because I’m pretty sure it’s not an actual cat.”

I had a sneaking suspicion that she was seeing someone, I just didn’t know who. It was probably someone I didn’t know, and I figured she was keeping it to herself for now given that my relationship with Dieter had just ended. While I would be excited for her to have met someone, I knew she would feel bad about being in a happy relationship. Even though she had no reason to feel that way. That was Lauren logic 101.

Lauren chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought of a reply, finally responding with, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you; it was a stray. He’s just hanging out until I figure out what to do with him.”

Her intense inspection of her fingernails as she spoke was a dead giveaway though. Clearly, she didn’t want to look at me directly, afraid that she just might give something away. I rolled my eyes at her and shrugged. She quickly changed the subject.

“So, as you know, next week is our birthday week…” She paused as she gave me a mischievous smile, letting the anticipation build up.

Given that our birthdays were four days apart, she had always used it as an excuse to celebrate for the full week rather than the usual one day a year.

“Yeah, what of it?” I eyed her dubiously.

I wasn’t sure if I was in the mood for any of her crazy plans this year. Two years ago, she conned me into doing indoor skydiving as a way to loosen up and have fun, which resulted in me getting a busted lip. I vowed to never let her drag me into anything like that again. Last year I managed to avoid the epic week of celebration due to the whole divorce fiasco, but apparently, she was not going to give me that courtesy this year.

“I found a place that’s having a karaoke team competition next weekend. It’s 90’s themed, so it’s right up our alley.”

She gave me a hopeful, yet nervous smile as she awaited my response.

I couldn’t help but scoff at her as I gave her a skeptical look. “You want me to do karaoke? We haven’t done that since college.”

“Exactly! We haven’t, and we used to have so much fun. We also kicked ass at it. I think we could totally win.”

The excitement was visible on her face as she spoke.

“Fucking hell. You said it��s a team though. How many on a team?” I asked, hoping there might be a way out of this.

“We only need three people for three rounds. Kerrie already said she’s in.”

“Kerrie? Of course she did...” I dropped my head, laughing in defeat. I knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

“So, what would we win? I wanna know what I’m about to sell my soul for.” I took a drink of my coffee as I continued to weigh my options on how to get out of this predicament.

“There are a few choices, but the one I am shooting for is the spa day. It’s the most expensive package too!”

“Here’s a thought… how about we skip the karaoke and go straight for the spa day. I’ll pay for it. My treat!” I suggested hopefully, but she shook her head, looking like a petulant child with crossed arms and a scowl on her face.

“No. A spa birthday isn’t fun…it’s relaxing. We can do that later. I want some actual fun for our birthdays. It’s been way too long, and we can all use it.”

I gave her a skeptical look, “We have two very different definitions of fun.” I chuckled as she rolled her eyes at me.

“Come on. It’s just one song…five minutes or less of your life that will give us wonderful memories for years to come.” Her hopeful smile had returned.

“Exactly, that’s my concern”. I sighed, figuring that I’d better choose my battles wisely. “Ok, fine. No breakup songs for me though. I refuse.”

She squealed as she clapped her hands together and bounced up and down in the seat. She then proceeded to start throwing out song ideas, starting with her favorite Shania Twain song.

“Look, if we’re gonna do this, don’t be picking stuff that everybody else is gonna pick. I guarantee everyone and their mother will sing that damn Man, I Feel Like a Woman song.”

She pouted, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Fine, I’ll come up with an epic playlist for us. Don’t worry.”

I scoffed as I finished my coffee, shaking my head at her, “Please. All I do is worry when it comes to your scheming plans.”

She gave me a disapproving glare as she raised her hand to flip me off, which caused me to laugh.

The next week flew by in a blur. Kerrie had been excitedly talking about our girl’s night out all week, in the process recruiting Elizabeth and Aubrey to join us as our official hype squad. It was turning into a whole thing at this point. Lauren was taking it to the extreme, which didn’t come as a surprise. She had sent a text to let me know that she had wardrobe plans for us all. She was always so extra.

When Saturday afternoon hit, Lauren came rushing upstairs in a flurry with arms full of bags. Kerrie arrived soon after as Lauren was digging through my closet in search of items she knew were hidden in there somewhere. I let her do her thing as I wrapped up my work and chatted with Kerrie. Once Lauren found what she was looking for, she started laying out our assigned outfits in stacks on the bed. As I watched her, I realized that I had never felt less excited about something as I did right now. After she had everything sorted, she instructed us to get dressed.

There was definitely some serious 90’s nostalgia going on with the clothes she had picked out for us. My outfit consisted of black ripped skinny jeans, combined with stacked heel lace up boots like the pair I used to own, and a white ribbed tank. To top it off, she had grabbed my black leather jacket and a bright purple skinny scarf. Even the accessories were accounted for: a black leather wrap bracelet and black leather cuff, giving the perfect finish to my look. I was also given explicit instructions to wear my hair down in loose waves.

She put Kerrie in a black spaghetti strap midi dress with combat boots, lots of bracelets, a choker necklace, and deep wine-colored leather jacket. Kerrie was instructed to wear her hair down to rock some tight messy curls. Lauren dressed herself in a dark blue mesh floral high-waisted midi skirt with a white crop top, a light blue cardigan, black choker necklace, and black Mary Janes. She wore her hair down and straight.

I stood looking at the two of them as they added the last of their accessories, shaking my head.

“I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. Why are we doing this again?”

“Because it’s gonna be fun,” Lauren assured me as she moved to touch up her makeup. “Relax, you’ll be fine. You sing well, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Once again, I was second guessing my decision to go along with this. I felt ridiculous. The other two, however, were more than excited to make up for my lack of enthusiasm.

We took an Uber to the bar where this whole shindig was supposed to go down. The place was huge and packed to the brim with people, which only amped up my anxiety further. At least we were not the only ones who had embraced the 90’s theme; everywhere you looked, people were sporting nostalgic outfits and accessories, which made us blend in easily.

We found Aubrey and Elizabeth inside, seated at a large table near the front of the stage. Lauren’s co-workers from her shop, Nicole and Stephanie, also joined us soon after our arrival, making our table a more sizable party than I had been expecting. We sat chatting amongst ourselves as a server came around to take our drink orders, I promptly ordered a whiskey, which seemed to catch Lauren’s attention.

“What are you doing?” she asked immediately, her tone laced with concern.

“If you want me to do this shit, I’m gonna need at least two of those…maybe three. I’m fine. It’s to relax, not to drown in my sorrows... Not yet, anyway.” She gave me a doubtful look, but let it go. I was finishing off my first round when the karaoke host took center stage, hyping up the crowd for the first-round category of 90’s classic Pop Songs. A girl from Team One, a couple of tables down, was the first to hop on stage and opened with Man, I Feel Like a Woman.

I glanced over at Lauren, “What did I tell you?”

She rolled her eyes at me. A girl from Team Two was introduced as performing the same song. Her excitement seemed slightly deflated now that someone else had already performed her song. I looked over at Lauren again. Before I could even raise an eyebrow, she shook her head and flipped me the bird. She hated it when I was right.

Lauren was up next. She had chosen to sing Christina Aguilera’s What a Girl Wants, which was a solid choice for her. She sounded great, definitely better than the other two. With her buzz kicking in, she wasn’t afraid to work the crowd and throw in some dance moves. Our whole group cheered her on while Kerrie recorded everything on her phone. I think it was safe to say that she absolutely won that round.

The category for round two was rock. Team One started it off with a very drunk gentleman giving Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit a go. It was terrible and he didn’t even bother to try and get the lyrics right.

During his performance, I leaned over to Lauren, “Pray tell what category you have me singing in please?” Her eyes got a little wider before she said, “What? You want another drink you say? I’ll go get that for you!”

She disappeared toward the bar while I glanced over at Kerrie in confusion. She shrugged. “Do you know what you’re singing?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I picked it myself. She didn’t tell you what she picked for you?” she yelled over the music.

I shook my head from side to side, “Do you know?”

It was her turn to shake her head as Team Two got started on their song. They busted out Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication. The guy killed it and was going to be hard to beat. Lauren came back just as he was midway through the song and handed me another whiskey, then immediately went to the other end of the table to talk to one of the girls she works with. She was avoiding me. Fuck. That didn’t bode well for me.

When it was Kerrie’s turn, she didn’t seem concerned at all. In fact, she was cool as a cucumber and psyched up as she made her way to the stage. Lauren came back over to stand next to me and hooked her arm with mine as she started recording on her phone with her other hand. Neither of us had ever heard Kerrie sing, so we didn’t know what to expect.

The host announced Kerrie would be singing Meredith Brooks, Bitch. Our whole table started whooping and whistling as the music started. As soon as she opened her mouth, we all absolutely lost our shit. She sounded amazing and had the rocker chick vibes down.

Lauren looked over at me, “We are totally fucking winning this!” as she started dancing along to the music and yelling, “Yaaaaas bitch” toward the stage. Kerrie worked the stage and the crowd like no one else had. On the "I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess on my knees” line she did a seductive roll and wiggle of her hips that sent the place into a frenzy. Once she was finished, she did a dramatic bow before exiting the stage and running over to our table.

As Kerrie approached us, she announced, “I guess this would be a good time to tell you guys that I was in a rock band in college.”

We all started laughing and scolding her for holding that information back. It certainly would have taken some stress off Lauren to know that.

I was taken out of the celebratory spirit when the host announced the category for round three. I could feel my stomach drop when he said “90’s Love Songs.” My head snapped toward Lauren who froze as she was raising a glass to her lips.

“Love songs? Are you fucking kidding me?” The frustration was clear on my face.

She lowered her glass and set it on the table, “Hey, you just said no breakup songs. It’s not a breakup song. Also, your voice is amazing, and you’ll be going last which means it’ll be the freshest on their minds. I do not regret my decision.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I do. This is not a good idea.” I said, shaking my head.

“Why? Are you afraid you might actually feel something?” She raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to say the truth.

I drew my brows down together at her words. I didn’t know how to respond. I let out a loud huff and walked away toward the bar, immediately ordering another whiskey. I sat staring at the swirls in the wood grain as I listened to a decent rendition of K-Ci & JoJo’s All My Life play behind me. I could feel my heart racing as I downed the whiskey and asked for another. Halfway through Bon Jovi’s Always, I got up and made my way back toward the front.

Everyone at the table stared at me in silence. Lauren looked like she was stuck between feelings of anger and fear of what was about to happen. I finished off my latest glass and took my jacket off as the current song ended. I still didn’t even know which song she had picked for me to sing, which was probably a good thing. Having time to dwell on it wouldn’t help.

The host called me up. As I was walking, he announced the song, Shania Twain's, You’ve Got a Way. Looks like she still got her fucking Shania Twain song in. I let out a slow breath, followed by a low “fuck” as I took the microphone from the guy. He gave me a questioning look and I returned it with a tight smile. I was feeling a little unsteady on my feet by this point, so I walked over to grab a stool that was sitting to the side of the stage, brought it out to the middle, and took a seat. I nodded at the DJ, who cued up the music. The words appeared on a TV screen that hung on the front of the upstairs balcony, but I didn’t need them. I knew this one.

(If you would like to give the song a listen while you read, it is linked below... Fic continues after the jump.)

I focused on the back wall at first, attempting to let autopilot mode kick in, but it wasn’t happening. I didn’t make it far before the memories of Dieter started to flash through my mind. It started on the first verse, but the chorus is what hit me the hardest. Each time I repeated it, I was hit with a new memory. I was left feeling raw and exposed as the song went on.

It's in the way you want me

Dieter standing in the doorway between our suites, admitting he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing me… running his hands along my collarbone as we watched that stupid zombie movie… standing in front of me in the kitchen, running his hands up my thighs.

It's in the way you hold me

Dieter holding me in his arms every night as we slept…always grabbing my hand tightly to ease my anxiety… swaying slowly with his arms around me as we danced in Sonoma.

The way you show me just what love's made of

Dieter always being positive and supportive of everything I did… doing all the things that Justin never would… planning the perfect weekend away in Sonoma and trusting me with his past so that he could move on from it.

It's in the way we make love

Our intense emotional connection during our last night together in New York…our first night back together after the club… our intimate nights together in Sonoma.

I could feel the energy shift in the room around me. The tension was palpable as the emotion started to crack my voice a little bit. I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes and it was taking everything in me to hold them back.

Oh, how I adore you, Like no one before you, I love you just the way you are.

That line finally broke me. A tear slowly slid down my cheek as I realized I would never feel that way about anyone again. I would never be able to let him go. I kept my eyes focused on the wall in the back of the room, trying to keep the sobs from escaping my lips as I finished up the last repeat of the chorus.

Once the song came to an end, it was completely silent in the room for a time. Then applause slowly broke out. I quickly wiped at my face before exiting the stage and walking directly over to the bar, ordering another drink. I sat with my face in my hands as the bartender slid another round in front of me. I could hear the host behind me giving instructions to the crowd about how to vote online. I tried to drown it out as I stared at the wood grain on the bar again.

Out of my periphery, I could see Lauren take a few tentative steps toward me. I looked up at her, unsure if I was pissed or not. She reached up and put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, I honestly wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you.”

“What the hell kind of reaction did you expect?” I turned my body to face her, the frustration clear on my face. I was angry at her, but at the same time I knew that my struggle wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t trying to get me upset intentionally.

“I dunno, I just thought it might make you reconsider things. I wasn’t expecting tears.” She gave me a pouty look, “I’m sorry. I should have consulted with you about it.”

I let out a slow breath, “Don’t worry about it. I guess that part is on me.”

She gave me a weak smile, “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house after that.”

I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I raised my glass for another drink, finishing it off quickly, “I think I’m gonna head home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I decided. I was feeling agitated from all the noise and just wanted to be at home where it was considerably quieter.

“You mean you’re not gonna stay for the results?” She looked disappointed, but I needed to get away and clear my head before I went into a full spiral again.

I knitted my brows together as I shook my head from side to side. She pulled me in for a tight hug, “Shoot me a text and let me know how it goes, yeah?” She gave me a small nod as she pulled away. I followed her back over to our table to grab my jacket and phone. I waved bye to everyone before heading outside and getting an uber.

The memories came rushing in during my ride home. I couldn’t stop them no matter how hard I tried. I managed to keep it together until I walked into the house. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I leaned against it and slid down to the floor. The tears came flooding out between sobs as I mourned the loss of what we had and the possibilities of what we could have had. It was something that I hadn’t fully allowed myself to do.

I sat crying for some time before I heard my phone vibrate on the floor beside me. I wiped my face as I tried to catch my breath. I reached for my phone and found a text from Lauren.

LAUREN: We totally kicked ass. Let me know when you’re ready for that spa day we earned!

ME: Excited to hear that. I’m ready when you are!

My response conveyed more excitement than I felt. I couldn’t have cared less at that moment. I sighed as I pulled myself up off the floor and moved to get ready for bed. I still felt slightly buzzed after laying down, but somehow managed to fall asleep soon after.

I woke up around 6 AM the next morning, feeling like death. I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some warm water over my face. My eyes looked slightly swollen from crying, so I held a warm rag against them for a few minutes, which seemed to help some. I decided to go for a run, just to have a mindless task to keep me busy. I got dressed in my workout gear, pulled my messy hair back into a ponytail, and walked outside. It was a little chilly and I noticed everything was still covered in light morning dew as I put my air pods in and started my playlist. I took off in a jog in the opposite direction of Dieter’s house, toward the more populated area of town. The streets were still mostly empty at this hour on a Sunday morning. Many of the businesses either weren’t open yet or were closed for the day. It was an eerie calm that somehow filled me with a dreaded sense of foreboding.

As I was trying to push that feeling to the back of my mind, I rounded the corner of one of the local businesses and crashed into someone. I stumbled backwards slightly and looked down in time to see one of my air pods falling from my ear. Somehow, I managed to catch it as I regained my footing, swaying for a moment as my head still reeled from last night’s drinks. I was apologizing for my clumsiness before I even had a chance to see who I had bumped into, trying to catch my breath. “Fuck, sorry, I –”, I blurted out, looking up to see who I had crashed into. I was met by two dark eyes staring back at me in confusion. It was the same eyes that had been on my mind last night during karaoke. Dieter.

His eyes were watery and bloodshot, but surprisingly alert for the early hour. He stared at me blankly for a moment before he knitted his brows together, the set of his jaw tensing as he looked me up and down. He didn’t move or speak, but I could tell his breathing seemed to become shallower the longer he stood there, reminding me of how he looked after the first time I woke him from his nightmare on my couch. I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

I could feel my face tighten as we both held each other’s gaze. Something deep in the pit of my stomach stirred, opening up and threatening to swallow me whole. I could feel my entire body tense as my emotions threatened to spill out. The memories flashed through my mind; everything from last night, the conversation with Gabby, our encounter at the restaurant, the way he had sounded on the phone that night when he ended things, and a whole slew of moments from the time we had spent together before everything fell apart. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t unbridle my emotions and fall apart here in front of him. With effort I tore my gaze away from him and took a deep breath, digging my nails into the palm of the hand which held my air pod. The pain helped me snap out of my thoughts long enough to decide on my next move. Before I lost my nerve, I put the air pod back in my ear, stepped around him, and continued jogging at my previous pace. I was almost certain I could feel his eyes on my back until I was finally out of sight.

I cut my run short and headed back in the direction of my house, trying to shake off the numb feeling that was starting to overtake me. What the hell was he doing out this early? Where had he been? Or where was he going? I slowed to a brisk walk as I turned onto my street, thinking through the businesses that were near where I had bumped into him. There was a 24-hour convenience store nearby. Maybe he was going there?

My phone buzzed with a text from Lauren, which surprised me considering her late-night activities - it was barely 8 AM. The screen lit up with her message when I unlocked the phone.

LAUREN: Call me as soon as you’re up, please.

That didn’t sound good. As if I needed something else to worry about right now. I sighed as I punched in the lock code to my front door. Once I was inside, I called her.

“Hello?” She sounded nervous.

“What’s up?” I asked as I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve before grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.

“Ummmm, I’m going to assume you haven’t seen any of the gossip sites today, have you?”

I sighed as I sat down at the kitchen table, switching to speaker phone so I had my hands free to open the bottle. I had a feeling I already knew where this was going.

“No, do I even need to ask why?”

Lauren was silent for a minute, “There are videos from last night. Like, a lot of fucking videos.”

I wished I could say that I was surprised, but I really wasn’t. I suddenly felt a wave of nausea run through me. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I leaned my head into one of my hands as I let out a long breath, “I actually thought we were past all that shit.”

I heard Lauren suck air between her teeth before she spoke, “Well, they’re making a big deal out of you being emotional. They’re reading between the lines and running with it.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, “I knew I shouldn’t have fucking gone last night. I can’t believe I let you talk me into it.”

I could hear Lauren shuffling around on her end. “You know what, it needed to happen,” she then said matter of factly.

I pulled my hand away from my face, feeling a little stunned at her tone. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’ve been giving off the impression that you’re fine and have moved on when you haven’t. I know you haven’t. I can tell you're still hurting, even if you won’t admit it to yourself. He needs to see that. He needs to know what he did to you.” She paused briefly. “If this is a way for that to happen, then so be it.”

For the first time ever, Lauren had literally stunned me into silence.

I scoffed, “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Good. Don’t say anything because I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You need to get your head out of your ass and stop avoiding everything,” she said in a rush.

I could hear her take a deep breath before she continued in an oddly pleasant tone, “Now, I have things to do. I’m gonna let you go. I’ll text you later.”

I couldn’t help but to chuckle at her abrupt change in attitude, “Oook, I look forward to your text.”

“Ok. Good. Bye.”

She hung up without giving me the chance to say goodbye. That was just as bizarre as the cat thing. What the hell has gotten into that girl?

I sat staring at the wall, my right hand tapping on my left shoulder, thinking through what she said. Had he seen those videos? Is that why he was looking at me like that? I couldn’t tell if he was upset, mad, or high on something. Was I the asshole for not even trying to talk to him? Why would I, after the way he talked to me last time? I had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings running through my mind, I didn’t know how to process it all.

What I did know is that I couldn’t keep running into him like that. It was too much and wasn’t going to help with the healing process. I know Lauren would say I was avoiding the issue, but I needed to be away from him. Somehow, I needed to start over. For the first time since Carrington had offered me the new position, I was leaning toward an answer. Silicon Valley was beginning to feel less like an opportunity, and more like the escape I desperately needed.

My phone buzzed on the table, breaking me away from my thoughts. It was a text from Kerrie.

KERRIE: Just so you know, videos from last night are literally everywhere.

I sighed. A second text from her came through with a link to a TMZ article. I opened it, noting the time stamp was late last night, with several updates added since. I hit play on one of the many videos of me singing. I almost didn’t recognize myself. The look on my face was clearly that of someone fighting off emotions. I didn’t look or sound bad, but it was hard to watch without it evoking some type of sad emotion - without it bringing up everything that I had been feeling last night and just now when I had run into Dieter. I stopped it before it got to the end and closed the browser window. The last thing I needed right now was to relive that minor breakdown.

There was another video, taken from a distance, of me drinking at the bar before I went up on stage, and another of me at the bar right after when I had been trying to compose myself. The article that accompanied the videos was all pure speculation, suggesting that I was upset about being jilted by one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. I mean, it wasn’t wrong, but they couldn’t possibly know that for sure. I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone back down on the table. On top of everything that was going on, the burden of not being able to go anywhere without being recorded and photographed was suffocating me. It would be one thing if Dieter and I were still together, but we were not. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let it go already. Yet another reason to go somewhere else for a fresh start. There’s no way I could possibly be happy here under these conditions.

Trying to keep the anxiety at bay, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, then got up to make a quick breakfast. Afterwards, I showered and settled in for a day of work in my home office. I still had a lot of prep work to do and loose ends to tie up if I was going to accept that job. The hours seemed to melt into each other as they flew by, and before I knew it, the sun was setting as darkness filled the room. Once my laptop was the only source of light, I finally got up to turn on a couple of lamps. As I was about to sit back down at my desk, my phone lit up with an incoming call.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw the name that appeared on the screen. Guy from the Bar. I still hadn’t changed it from what he had entered into my contacts all those months ago. Unable to move at first, I stared at my phone, debating whether to answer the call, until something in my gut told me I needed to.

I could feel every muscle in my body tense as I hit the answer button. “Dieter?”

A deep sigh sounded on the other end of the line before he spoke. “I… I’m surprised you answered.”

His voice sounded rough; the words slurred, throwing the cadence off. He spoke too slow, too laced with whatever he was intoxicated with. I could feel a lump forming in my throat as I listened to him. It took everything I had to control my emotions.

“I assumed you wouldn’t call if you didn’t have a reason.” My legs suddenly felt weak as I sat down at the desk, clutching the phone in my hand.

“I just wanted to…I’m sorry... I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want it to stop.” He spoke quickly, his words jumbling together as his voice shook. I could hear a quiet whimper coming from him as his words trailed off.

The nauseous feeling from earlier came back with a vengeance. I felt sick to my stomach, and I could feel a tightness forming in my chest. He didn’t sound right. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “What are you talking about? You want what to stop?”

“The thoughts… feelings.” His breath hitched, then he continued. “It’s just too much. I’ve fucked it all up. All of it. It’s all…” He was quieter now, his voice sounding strained, the words still slurred in a blur of what sounded like tears. Panic began to rise in my chest.

“Where are you? Are you at home?” I stood up, moving to my bedroom to quickly pull on some clothes instead of the pajamas I was wearing. It stayed quiet on the other end of the line. He wasn’t answering me, but I could still hear him breathing.

“Dieter, answer me. Are you at home?” I asked again, trying to not let the panic overflow into my voice. He mumbled something that sounded like there could have been a yes in there somewhere. Then there was a thud, it sounded like he dropped the phone. I could hear a quiet groan in the background, then nothing else but silence. I yelled his name several times, internally begging for him to answer me, but I got no response.

I slid on some sandals and grabbed my keys as I rushed downstairs to the garage, dialing Gabby as I got into my car. When she picked up the phone after a few rings, I didn’t even give her a chance to finish her greeting before I spoke.

“Gabby, something’s wrong. Meet me at Dieter’s house. Do you have a key?”

“Yes, I’m on my way. What happened?” I could hear rustling in the background and the jingle of her keys. She quickly yelled at her husband that something was wrong with Dieter, and she had to leave, followed by the sound of a door slamming before he could respond to her.

“I don’t know. He called me and wasn’t making any sense, then stopped responding… I think he passed out. I’ll see you there in a few,” I said as I pulled out of my driveway. I ended the call before she could reply, realizing that my hands were shaking, and that I needed all my focus to drive over to Dieter’s place.

I was at his house within minutes. Once I parked, I ran to the front door and knocked, then banged on the door when I didn’t get a response right away. The lights were on, but there was no movement inside the house. I tried the doorknob, surprised when I realized it was unlocked. For a moment I hesitated, afraid of what I would find, then pushed the door all the way open and went inside.

As I stepped into the entryway, I was met with an eerie silence. I called out to Dieter, but there was no response. I could feel my breathing going shallow as I walked toward the living room, bracing myself for several possible scenarios. The space was littered with empty and broken liquor bottles, shards covering every surface. The bright orange color of prescription bottles scattered all over the coffee table immediately caught my attention. The place wasn’t just a mess, it was absolutely wrecked. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears as I took in the sights, still not seeing Dieter. I couldn’t find my voice to say anything, so I just walked further into the living room, desperately hoping to find him.

I nearly slid on the floor as I realized I had stepped into something wet. I followed the trail of spilled liquid, then spotted Dieter lying on the floor behind the couch. His phone was next to him in a puddle of spilled tequila. The mostly empty glass bottle laid near the phone.

My breathing stopped when I saw how pale he looked, and I rushed over to him, mentally shoving down the barrage of emotions that threatened to cloud my mind. None of that mattered. All I cared about was making sure he would be okay. “D? Dieter, I’m here. Can you hear me?” I dropped to my knees next to him and pressed my hands against his face, tilted his head to try to gauge whether he was responsive. He was cold and clammy, not at all like the usual body heat he would radiate. Once again, I forced myself to stay calm and called his name a few more times, shaking him gently to see if that would stir him. “Please don’t do this. Wake up. Dieter, stay with me.” His eyes opened slightly, unfocused and looking vacantly up to the ceiling, then closed again. His breathing remained irregular, barely audible. It was a terrifying sight, seeing him immobile and unresponsive like this.

With effort I managed to turn him onto his side, knowing that was the safest position for him in case he needed to vomit - the last thing we needed was for him to choke on it. “Dieter. Dieter, you have to wake up,” I tried again, slipping my index and middle finger just to the side of his Adam’s apple to check his pulse. It was weak but still present, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Before I could do anything else, I heard someone barge into the house, and I recognized Gabby’s voice calling her brother’s name and mine.

“Over here!”, I yelled, and a few seconds later she stumbled into the living room, freezing in her spot when she saw us on the floor. “No. Dieter!”, she cried, tears in her eyes as stared at her unconscious brother.

“Gabby, listen. Take a breath,” I rushed to tell her before she could do anything else. “He’s got a pulse, but we need to get him to a hospital. I think he has alcohol poisoning.”

Her breathing had started to turn into short, stuttered breaths, and I could see her unravel as she started hyperventilating, eyes fixed on Dieter. “He…”

“Gabby? Gabby,” I kept my voice calm but stern as I called her until her eyes landed on me, and I gave her a reassuring nod. “You need to focus, I can’t do this by myself. Take a breath.” She shook her head as she pulled herself together, her hands trembling as she reached for her phone. “I’ll call 911,” she said, dialing the number. “They…-”

“No, it’ll take too long for them to get here,” I interrupted her, knowing we did not have the luxury of time considering the state he was in. “We need to take him now, ok? Go pull your car up to the front and get back in here, we’ll get him there.”

She left and I tried to wake Dieter again, cradling his body against mine, but he remained unresponsive. Looking around, I remembered the pills on the table. I could see the lids were popped off some of them, but they still looked mostly full. Aside from them and the many shattered bottles of alcohol, there didn’t seem to be any other substances laying around. At least that was a relief.

When Gabby came back into the room, I instructed her to grab the prescription bottles just in case he had taken them. It would be helpful to the doctors to know what was potentially in his system. She threw them in her purse before running over to us, helping me get him off the floor.

With sheer force and adrenaline, we were able to lift him - each of us with one of his arms wrapped around our necks as we steadied him around his middle, carefully getting him out to Gabby’s car as fast as we possibly could. “Dieter, your sister’s here. We’ve got you; we’re taking you the hospital,” I said to him, knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to respond. I wanted him to know we were here and that we were getting him help.

Gabby helped me hoist him into the back seat of her car. I climbed in, making sure that he could safely lay across my lap while remaining on his side. When we got him situated, she closed the door and rushed over to the driver’s seat, hopping in as she set a straight course for the highway while calling her other brother.

Hearing Alex’s voice over the Bluetooth seemed to steady her for a moment, and she immediately filled him in on what was going on. “Where do we take him? What’s the nearest hospital?”

Alex said her name, gently urging her to calm down. “What are his symptoms?”

“Uneven breathing, clammy, weak pulse, unresponsive,” I answered instead of her. “Only opened his eyes for a second. I found him in a puddle of tequila, and he may have taken some prescription drugs.”

“Got it. You need to get him to the ER right away. USC Verdugo is probably closest”, Alex suggested, reassuring Gabby that he knew several of the doctors. “I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re coming in. I’ll meet you there soon.”

Once we got off the phone with Alex, it was strangely quiet in the car for a few minutes as we both tried to gather our thoughts. I could hear Gabby taking deep breaths before she spoke up, her breathing starting to stutter slightly, “How bad is alcohol poisoning?”

I met her glistening eyes in the rearview mirror, my heart aching for her. “It can be bad,” I said honestly, trying to keep my voice calm. I hated being blunt during a moment of crisis, but there was no way I was going to beat around the bush. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I lightly ran my fingers through Dieter’s hair, touching his face every now and then to check if he was becoming more responsive - but that wasn’t the case. At this point, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold it together.

It probably took us about fifteen minutes to get to the ER, but it felt much longer as I watched his condition worsen. His breathing was becoming so irregular that I was afraid I would have to try and do CPR in the car. As soon as we pulled up in front of the ER entrance, the vehicle was swarmed with hospital staff, pulling Dieter out of the car and onto a gurney. Several nurses immediately assessed his condition while one placed a medical resuscitator bag over his nose and mouth, then they wheeled him inside, leaving us behind.

As Gabby and I went through the sliding doors, we were joined by Alex and Lauren who had been waiting in the lobby. For a moment it struck me as odd that Lauren was there, but I couldn’t exactly process any thoughts regarding that. Down the hallway, we saw Dieter getting wheeled to the rear doors that led him further into the ER. That was the final straw that broke me, along with the knowledge that I didn’t need to be strong for him anymore. It was finally safe for me to fall apart. The lightheadedness from earlier returned with a new intensity. I gasped for air as I sank down to the floor, starting to sob uncontrollably. All the fears and emotions so tightly packed into my chest came pouring out at last. My vision was blurred momentarily by a rush of tears, then blackness sank in around the edges, slowly pulling me under. A/N: Y'all ready to stone me to death? Is it better or worse than you thought it was going to be? 🥴

No, he doesn't die. Happy ending, remember? This is the start of his recovery. It's going to be a long and rough road for both of them...but it is slowly uphill from here. How about that song? I felt like it summed up Talia'a feelings pretty well and was a solid choice. I listened to that shit on repeat while I wrote this chapter. Pretty sure my sanity is in question at this point. We now have confirmation about the cat. A lot of you were right, it is indeed Alex. Are we excited about that or no? Let me know how you're feeling after reading this. Do we need a support group meeting? 👀😬 I am currently working on the next chapter. It's going slow, so I don't have an ETA on it yet. I want to make sure I get the next few parts right as they cover some very tough topics. I'll let you know when I'm getting close to finishing though. Lastly, a quick thank you to @for-a-longlongtime for doing all the beta work and suffering through it with me. It's better and more heart wrenching thanks to her. 🤭 As usual, I have included the chapter mood board below. Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @pedrostories

Let me know in the comments below if you would like to be added to the tag list.

#dieter bravo #dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #Spotify

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vickyvicarious · 2 years ago

Note

there is so much "falling in friendship at first sight" in dracula methinks

There truly, truly is. And while I adore it as is, enough that I have included a selection on quotes down below to illustrate the point... also, I love how they all get to know one another and make that decision to be friends for life because they're already connected - through documents, through stories, through trust in a loved one being extended outwards to someone that loved person trusts.

Mina knows the suitor squad from Lucy's descriptions, and trusts van Helsing knowing that Seward and Lucy trusted him. Van Helsing knew Mina from Lucy's letters, and then got to know her and Jonathan through their respective journals. Jonathan trusted van Helsing, and the suitor squad later, after learning about them from Mina. Arthur and Quincey and Lucy trusted van Helsing because Seward did. The suitor squad trusted in Mina on van Helsing's word and Lucy's love, and then got to know her and Jonathan through their journals. They all make those decisions to be devoted friends to one another almost immediately, but it's not only uninformed instinct; these people are already connected through a web of trust and love and shared documents (which give physical form to the trust and love).

It's really wonderful, and it's why they succeed in the end. Anyways, have a collection of quotes to be emotional about...

Arthur and van Helsing, on their second or third meeting in person:

"I must not call you 'Mr.,' and I have grown to love you—yes, my dear boy, to love you—as Arthur." Arthur held out his hand, and took the old man's warmly. "Call me what you will," he said. "I hope I may always have the title of a friend."

Van Helsing meeting Quincey:

Van Helsing strode forward, and took his hand, looking him straight in the eyes as he said:— "A brave man's blood is the best thing on this earth when a woman is in trouble. You're a man and no mistake."

Mina on the day she meets van Helsing:

Dr. Van Helsing must be a good man as well as a clever one if he is Arthur's friend and Dr. Seward's, and if they brought him all the way from Holland to look after Lucy. I feel from having seen him that he is good and kind and of a noble nature.

van Helsing on the day he meets Mina:

"Oh, but I am grateful to you, you so clever woman. Madam"—he said this very solemnly—"if ever Abraham Van Helsing can do anything for you or yours, I trust you will let me know. It will be pleasure and delight if I may serve you as a friend; as a friend, but all I have ever learned, all I can ever do, shall be for you and those you love. There are darknesses in life, and there are lights; you are one of the lights."

van Helsing meeting Jonathan (and Jonathan's reaction):

"And you, sir—I have read all the letters to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know you since some days from the knowing of others; but I have seen your true self since last night. You will give me your hand, will you not? And let us be friends for all our lives." We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made me quite choky.

Seward, the day he meets Mina:

"You are quite right. I did not trust you because I did not know you. But I know you now; and let me say that I should have known you long ago. I know that Lucy told you of me; she told me of you too. May I make the only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders and hear them—the first half-dozen of them are personal to me, and they will not horrify you; then you will know me better."

Mina, the day she meets Seward:

"...I have been more touched than I can say by your grief. That is a wonderful machine, but it is cruelly true. It told me, in its very tones, the anguish of your heart. It was like a soul crying out to Almighty God. No one must hear them spoken ever again! See, I have tried to be useful. I have copied out the words on my typewriter, and none other need now hear your heart beat, as I did."

Seward meeting Jonathan:

He is uncommonly clever, if one can judge from his face, and full of energy. If this journal be true—and judging by one's own wonderful experiences, it must be—he is also a man of great nerve. That going down to the vault a second time was a remarkable piece of daring.

Mina and Arthur on the day they meet:

"I know now how I suffered," he said, as he dried his eyes, "but I do not know even yet—and none other can ever know—how much your sweet sympathy has been to me to-day. I shall know better in time; and believe me that, though I am not ungrateful now, my gratitude will grow with my understanding. You will let me be like a brother, will you not, for all our lives—for dear Lucy's sake?" "For dear Lucy's sake," I said as we clasped hands. "Ay, and for your own sake," he added, "for if a man's esteem and gratitude are ever worth the winning, you have won mine to-day. If ever the future should bring to you a time when you need a man's help, believe me, you will not call in vain."

Mina and Quincey the day they meet:

"I wish I could comfort all who suffer from the heart. Will you let me be your friend, and will you come to me for comfort if you need it? You will know, later on, why I speak." He saw that I was in earnest, and stooping, took my hand, and raising it to his lips, kissed it. It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his throat; he said quite calmly:— "Little girl, you will never regret that true-hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!"

Jonathan and Quincey, less than a week after meeting:

I grasped his hand instinctively and found it as firm as a piece of steel. I think he understood my look; I hope he did.

bonus: "you just rejected my marriage proposal so I will hold your hands and promise that we will be friends forever" to Lucy.

Jack Seward:

And then, Mina, I felt a sort of duty to tell him that there was some one. I only told him that much, and then he stood up, and he looked very strong and very grave as he took both my hands in his and said he hoped I would be happy, and that if I ever wanted a friend I must count him one of my best.

Quincey Morris:

"Tell me, like one good fellow to another, is there any one else that you care for? And if there is I'll never trouble you a hair's breadth again, but will be, if you will let me, a very faithful friend." [...] I was right to speak to him so frankly, for quite a light came into his face, and he put out both his hands and took mine—I think I put them into his—and said in a hearty way:— [...] "Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover; it's more unselfish anyhow."

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #anonymous #replies #polycula #there's so much love everywhere

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ranahan · 2 months ago

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If you're still translating to mando'a how about: do not go gentle into the night?

Ke’nu’slana naakla lo’bac jate ca.

Yes, I’m doing translations until further notice! Although I’ll probably only post them on weekends because I have irl obligations on weekdays.

This might require some context. The quote is from the poem Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

In the poem, gentle is contrasted with raging—or in other words, unresisting vs. fighting against. Now how would a Mandalorian interpret that? Through their own culture’s framework of struggle (which I’ve translated as akaan) between stagnation and change; change and struggle and war often being conflated (as they are in the god Kad Ha’rangir, who is the personification all of these concepts).

Naak is (by my interpretation) na (an archaic form of the modern ne) + *ak- (the root in aka and akaan), literally “not mission” or “not war”. So in this context, I think it can also stand in for gentle or unresisting.

Mando’a often seems to elide vowels at the end of the words. I’ve interpreted this as eliding the vowel in the previous word if the following word begins with a vowel, although I’ve yet to do a systematic analysis. Hence lo ibac should become l’ibac. But I didn’t like how it sounded, and ‘bac is very recognisable on its own, so I contracted it into lo’bac instead. So that it fits into the meter (kinda—it would if you dropped jate, which I’d do if I wanted to translate the whole poem).

#mando’a #mando’a translations #mandoa #mando'a #mando’a language #ranah talks mando’a

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talonabraxas · 4 months ago

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10 Kali Ma Mantras, Chants, Hymns & Quotes for Pleasing the Dark Goddess

Kali Ma is known as the preserve of Earth, but due to her destructive powers she is also known as “Dark Mother”. The name Kali means She, who is Beyond Time.

To aid her son in his endeavor to rid the three worlds of the multiplying demon, Raktabija, Parvati entered the cosmic battlefield as the dreaded goddess Kali – dark as death, gaunt with sunken eyes, gaping mouth, with long disheveled hair covering her naked body.

She is considered as a berserk form of Durga/Parvati, who is the consort of Lord Shiva. Kali Ma is simultaneously portrayed as the giver and destructor of life. However, in most of the interpretations, she is portrayed as ferocious and evil.

She is the mother of the world and the treasure-house of compassion. She is considered as the primordial mass from which all life arose.

1. Bija Mantra: “Kreem” This mantra will protect you from all the evil forces.

2. Simple form of Kali Mantra: “Om Krim Kali” K stands for full knowledge, R means she is auspicious, I means she bestows booms, and M that she gives freedom

3. Kali Mantra: “Om Kring Kalikaye Namah” This mantra is simple and transforms the devotee to pure consciousness.

4. Simple Kali Mantra “Om Sri Maha Kalikayai Namaha” Only a few people use this mantra due to its purgative nature. 5. Kalika-Yei Mantra “Om Klim Kalika-Yei Namaha” This mantra is believed to bring relief from all kinds of problems, no matter how complex it is.

6. The fifteen syllable mantra “Om Hrim Shreem Klim Adya Kalika Param Eshwari Swaha” It is believed that this mantra brings rapid growth to one’s spirituality. 7. Kali Mantra for Worship “Kring Kring Kring Hing Kring Dakshine Kalike Kring Kring Kring Hring Hring Hung Hung Swaha” The Mantra consists of three seeds, krim, hum and hrim, and the name ‘dakhshina kalike’ and ‘swaha’, which signifying offering. This mantra is used by the devotees of Kali, the preserver of Earth, who saves us from all the ignorance and the fear of death.

8. Kali Gayatri “Om Maha Kalyai Ca Vidmahe Smasana Vasinyai Ca Dhimahi Tanno Kali Prachodayat” Meaning: Om Great Goddess Kali, the One and only one, who resides in the Ocean of Life and in the Cremation Grounds that dissolve the world. We focus our energies on you, may you grant us boons and blessings.

9. Kali Chants a). “Om Kali, Kali! Om Kali, Kali! Namostute, namostute, namo! Namostute, namostute, namo!”

b). “Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Ananda Ma Ananda Ma Kali Om Kali Ma!” These are the simple chants to please the Black Goddess.

10. Dakshina Kali Dhyan Mantra : This is also known as karpuradi stotram. “Om karala-badanam ghoram mukta-kEshim chatur-bhuryam. kalikam dakshinam dibyam munda-mala bibhushitam sadya-chinna shira kharga bama-dordha karambujam abhayam baradan-chaiba dakshina-dardha panikam” Meaning: Om. Fierce of face, she is dark, with flowing hair and four-armed. Dakshina Kalika divine, adorned with a garland of heads. In Her lotus hands on the left, a severed head and a sword. She bestows sanctuary and blessings with her right hands.

11. Maha kali dhyanam “Om khargang chakra-gadeshu-chapa-parighan shulang bhushundIng shirah shankhang sanda-dhatIng karistri-nayanAng sarbanga-bhushabritam. nIlashma-dyutimasya pada-dashakang sebe maha kalikang yamastou-chhaite harou kamalajye hantung madhung kaitavam.”

Meaning: Aum, Her ten hands is holding a scimitar, disk, mace, arrows and bow, lance, club, a skull and a conch shell. She is a three-eyed goddess, Her body is covered with ornaments, and Her countenance with the brilliance of blue diamonds, with ten limbs. We offer our service to mahakali, She who Brahma praised for protection from the demons madhu and kaitava, when Bishnu was in sleep.

Goddess Kali by Talon Abraxas

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brucesterling · 11 months ago

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The V. Vale Value-Pak

*Who reads the bizarre, out-there maunderings of this eccentric San Francisco punk publisher known to the world as "V. Vale," well, obviously Rudy Rucker and Bruce Sterling both do.

*******************************************************

I started reading at age four and early on began memorizing “aphorisms”, although I didn’t learn that word till much later.

My earliest books that were really mine were some volumes of The Book of Knowledge, which introduced me to extreme history and anthropology (the gladiator conflicts in the Roman Coliseum games; an article on New Guinea natives, etc).

I had an illustrated paperback on “world’s weirdest animals” (not the real title; can’t remember that) which introduced me to genre-crossing life forms like the platypus, the Komodo dragon, the Bower Bird, etc.

The real eye-opener was a hardback medical textbook which contained a close-up B&W photograph of the genitals of a hermaphrodite (!). So when I found myself hanging out in libraries, did I restrict myself to children’s books? No; I looked at every book in the library, regardless of “category”.

Recently RE/SEARCH published a book (thanks to a brilliant assistant editor) called Quotes by Vale. I just turned at random to a quote on page 102:

“CORPORATE MEDIA: Whatever the OFFICIAL NARRATIVE, the Real Truth is Always The Opposite”.

And that in a nutshell is my driving motivation to publish. That’s it!

We’re about to enter 2024 — that year will mark my 47th year as a publisher (since the first issue of Search & Destroy).

And that’s when the idea of a V. VALE VALUE-PAK hit me! So obvious I never thought of it before!

I’ve spent my whole life promoting OTHER PEOPLE, so now maybe I can at least TRY to induce people to read my own writing and thoughts.

Well, they actually appear in all RE/Search books, although less obviously.

So, why not?

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3. VALE QUOTES (my aphorisms)

My two zines:

4. HOW TO READ (includes HOW TO WRITE, a 1-page zine)

5. TERMINAL PUNK (my attempt to write the “best” “philosophy of punk” publication)

The 4 zines that cartoonist extraordinaire Krusty Wheatfield did on V. Vale:

6. SEARCH FOR WEIRD #0

7. SEARCH FOR WEIRD #1+2

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9. HOW TO STAY TOGETHER FOREVER

I hope that at least a few readers of this newsletter will take a chance and order the V. VALE VALU-PAK, aided and abetted by a big discount.

Total retail value is usually $135… but we offer a 20% off New Year special price: $105!

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33-108 · 2 months ago

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Verse 31/32

Ayamevodayas tasya dhyeyasya dhyayi-cetasi/

Tadatmata-Samapattir icchatah sadhakasya ya//

Iyamevamrtapraptir ayamev atmano grahah/

Iyam nirvana-diksa ca siva-sadbhavadayin!//

This (identity of his Self with the whole universe) is only the manifestation of the object of meditation in the meditator's mind that the aspirant with a resolute will has the realization of his pure being.

This alone is the acquisition of ambrosia/Amrita leading to immortality; this alone is the realization of Self: this alone is the initiation of liberation leafing to identity with Siva.

It is declared here that 'one should worship Siva by becoming Siva . That alone constitutes the manifestation of the object of meditation leading to the realization of identity with the object of meditation.

As has been said by the teacher "O Lord, in this whole world which is thy own manifest form, what is that spot which is not a holy place to thy devotees and where the mantras of these devotees will not bear fruit"?. This alone is his great accomplishment that he acquires the ambrosia of the highest non-duality.

This section has been rightly entitled Sahajavidyodaya i.e., the rise of Sahaja vidya. Sahaja or Suddha vidya is that state in which in spite of the seeming difference of all that is earth, earthy, there is a running sense of unity, identity, of the Supreme I-consciousness fused with the all-of-reality. Vasugupta says- "Whether it is word or thought or object there is no state which is not Siva."

In the first section, the emphasis is on the Self-realization as Siva. In the second section, the emphasis is on the realization of the universe as Siva or in the technical language of this system on Siva-vyapti.

From the point of view of yoga, the emphasis in the first section is on nimilana-samadhi, on introversive meditation, on taking a plunge mentally in the innermost Self and realizing it as Siva. In the second section, the emphasis is on unmilana samadhi or extroversive meditation in which in spite of the senses being open to the onset of external sensation, the world appears as the materialization of the bliss of Siva. Ksemaraja rightly calls it mahasamapatti, the coup of supreme realization.

Man has been in search of ambrosia that will make him immortal. The author says that the realization of one's identity with Siva is alone the real ambrosia, for it sets one free from the whirligig of birth and death. The aspirant subjects himself to a tedious ceremony of initiation (diksa) for liberation (nirvana). The author says that which gives the realization of identity with Siva is alone the real initiation for liberation.

Utpalabhatta quotes the following verse as a definition of initiation(diksa).

"Inititaion is that which gives realization and destroys all impurities. Because it imparts that realization which awakens one from the sleep of ignorance, therefore is it called diksa. It has the characteristic of both giving (di) and destroying (ksa)".

Swamiji Lakshmanjoo-

When a yogi with this determination sits for meditation, that, “I will not leave this meditation until I realize the real truth. I won’t come out of this meditative functioning. I won’t leave this function. I won’t leave this meditation until I realize God consciousness”...

when the sādhaka-yogi sits for meditation and becomes one with God consciousness, that means, the rise of God consciousness has taken place in his thought (ayamevaudayas-tasya dhyeyasya).

The state of God consciousness is to be meditated upon. And the rise of the state of God consciousness is that

[determination].

In other words, it is the rise of the state of God consciousness.

One should meditate with this determination [that], “I will never leave it until I realize the reality of God

consciousness.” [Your very determination] means, It has risen in the background of your consciousness– that reality of God consciousness. (31)

Iyameva, this is the attainment of amṛta (nectar, supreme nectar). The supreme nectar he has attained. Ayam eva ātmano, this is the controlling of your mind, this is one-pointedness of your mind.

Iyaṁ nirvāṇa dīkṣā ca, and this is the real initiation, which sentences you to liberation, ultimate liberation, śiva sadbhāvadāyinī, which will give you śiva sat bhāva, the state of Śiva bhāva. (32)

#esoteric #occult #hinduism #shiva #tantra #goddess #shakti #bhairava #sanatanadharma #spirituality #religion

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ipromiseimlying-blog1 · 9 months ago

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Excerpt from my fic The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun on ao3

Cas is silent for a moment, and Dean doesn’t blame him. Dean doesn’t deserve a second chance with Jack. Hell, he doesn’t deserve for Cas to stick around, but the guy’s not leaving yet, and Dean’s not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

The sound of waves fills the silence between them, and they watch as Eileen spikes the volleyball at the other team, giving them the lead. Sam hugs her from behind, lifting her up and spinning her around. The wiffle ball family cheers as the boy sprints around the sand bases. The surfer guy crashes into the ocean.

“What we think we deserve…” Cas says quietly. And it’s like the wind dies down and the ocean sushes itself to hear what he has to say. “Is not always an accurate representation of what we have earned.”

Dean’s a dick, so he snorts and deepens his voice. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” He quotes.

Cas flicks a chip at him. “You deserve to be at peace, Dean. You deserve to be happy.”

“Don’t get all chick-flick on me, man.” Dean protests.

“Would you prefer for us to be in a different kind of movie?”

“We just spent our entire lives as a form of a story, I’d love for us to not be in a movie at all.”

Cas grins, all six feet of him standing slowly. Abs, tanned chest, muscled shoulders on display. The guy’s not even trying to make it suggestive in any way, it just is . Dean watches him move, his beer halfway to his lips. He barely hears what Cas says, a cheeky grin stretching across the dude’s face. “If we were in a movie though, I think it would be a rom-com.”

Dean blinks, his brain sluggish and stupid. “Hey what–?”

But Cas is already galavanting down towards the ocean, always insisting on having the last word. This time, Dean lets him, just because he has no idea what to say to that. This isn’t a rom com. This isn’t even a story anymore. They took the rule book and ripped it up, threw away Chuck’s script and the guy in charge too.

So no. This isn’t a romcom, despite what Cas thinks. There’s no way it’s going to be either.

#destiel #supernatural #spn #destiel fanfic #ao3 fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas #supernatural season 16 #ao3

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 9 months ago

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Solitaire - Chapter 1

overanalyzing/-interpreting and probably pointing out the obvious... just random notes and thoughts (ca. 2100 words in the form of bulletpoints)

counting got fucked up, imma fix it later, sorry if it's confusing to read -> should be fixed now

Solitaire, a fictional story with Tori (Victoria Spring) as homodiegetic narrator

Pride and Prejudice Quotes introduce us to the tone of Tori’s story

→ we know that Tori rather identifies with mr Darcy, so lets see what we find about Mr Darcy that might tell us something about Tori before we even get to know her:

Quote 1:

‘And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.’

‘And yours’, he replied with a smile, ‘is willfully to misunderstand them.’

→ we learn about Mr Darcy that he allegedly tends to hate everybody and that he assumes willful misunderstanding one sides of the other party

(PART 1) Quote 2:

Elizabeth Bennet: Do you dance, Mr Darcy?

Mr Darcy: Not if I can help it.

→ without having a specific pace as instance in mind, it definitely sounds like something Tori would word for word answer to a question as the one given

• Getting to know Tori, before she ‘officially’ introduces herself to the reader (p.3f)

she perceives the majority of people in school as almost dead, including herself (p.3)

→ creating the picture of a crowd that allegedly shares a tragic similarity

2. she observes her steady numbness opposed to the socially anticipated numbness as reaction to the contrast of a phase of event (here: Christmas) and the eventless phase after (p.3)

→ differentiating herself from the crowd

3. Becky says that Tori looks like she wants to kill herself (p.3) to what Tori responds with ‘It’s funny because it’s true’ (p.4); Tori describes Becky’s reaction as her looking some more without really looking (p.4)

→ Tori feels perceived by Becky, but not seen

4. Tori says she and Becky are laughing about something that isn't funny (p.4)

→ Tori’s inauthenticity

5. Becky realizes Tori’s apathy and moves away while Tori leans into her own arms and falls half asleep (p.4)

→ Becky not taking action but physically bringing some distance between Tori and her, while Tori stabilizes herself by her own strength, escaping into a state of being half asleep but also halfway remaining in reality

6. Tori’s focus on appearance and her insecurity about her own

→ changes in peoples’ appearance like in hair and makeup that make herself feel ‘inadequate’ to which she ‘deflates’ into a chair a.k.a. makes herself smaller and hides away (p.4)

Tori’s ‘official’ introduction to the reader (p.4f)

‘My name is Victoria Spring’

→ she starts off with her full name

2.she makes up a lot of stuff in her head

→ focus on reality in form of her interior world

3. likes to see, and blog, and is going to die someday

→ listing the obvious fact of dying right beside other mundane activities emphasizes the priority of that topic in her daily life

4. Rebecca Ellen as only real friend and therefore probably best friend (p.4); Tori categorizes her as a ‘popular girls’ due to being recognized and therefore popular because she has long purple hair (p.4); Tori differentiates between being known by name and known personally (p.4)

→ Tori categorizing people even her friends

→ Tori challenges the significance of being popular and its lack of guaranteeing depth and significance

→ Question: Since when are people popular in school when they have recognizable purple hair? In my experience teenagers with colored hair are the one’s being likely to be bullied by the popular ones 🙄

5. Evelyn Foley categorizes as ‘alternative’ due to her appearance (p.5)

6. Tori questions if Becky actually likes Evelyn and she believes people only pretend to like each other (p. 5)

→ does Tori think that, because she only pretends/ feels like she pretends?;

→ is Tori worried that people only pretend to like her (believes that she is so unlikable, people must pretend)?

7. Tori does not participate in Becky and Evelyn’s conversation and only reacts to them when she ‘deduces’ she’s supposed to (p.5); she feels ‘pressured’ to contribute something to the conversation (p.5); she expresses her disinterest in the current discussed topic (p.5) and believes she ruined the conversations, so she leaves

→ Tori doesn't connect naturally with people, even when she considers one of them her friends and rather feels pressured to react in certain way than feeling invited to share herself authentically

→ without Becky and Evelyn even saying anything nor showing any reaction regarding Tori impacting the conversation immensely negatively, Tori’s insecurity of not meeting expectations causes her to escape the situation right away

8. Tori says she sometimes hates people what must be bad for her mental health (p.5)

→ does she include herself in that statement like she did in the beginning (p.3)?

→ self-awareness

→ awareness of mental health (I’m just adding that, because when I was her age ‘mental health’ was not a term that was used too often yet nor truly cared about/ talked about, so in my reality it is somewhat remarkable that Tori observes herself and immediately evaluates whether her thoughts could be detrimental to her health, that she immediately makes that connection; I also wonder if that’s caused by being confronted with mental health due to Charlie being such a big part of her life)

9. Tori focuses on ‘social hierarchy’ in school (p.5)

→ categorizing her social environment

10. ‘shoot me in the face’ (p.5)

→ another self-detrimental joke/ phrase

→ radical way of thinking and agains with the worst outcome for herself in mind

11. Tori not feeling pretty in school uniform (p.6)

→ insecurity about her appearance

the plot commences or Tori in action

Tori sees and follows post-it (p.6)

→ she observes and takes action

2.other people don’t see post it; ‘…or they don’t care. I can relate to that.’ (p.6)

→ people oblivious; Tori differentiated from people

→ Tori can relate to the general sense of not caring, however in this case she does care contrary to her words; at least she cares enough to register the post-it and actively follow it

3. doing stuff that other people don't seem to care about makes Tori feel like she is doing something important (p.7); ‘mainly because no one else is doing it’ (p.7)

→ differentiating herself from others

→ paying attention to things that seemingly don't get attention (Is that an interior wish of hers as she feels like not truly being payed attention to?)

→ shows her trait of not leaving things (or people) alone by themself (Charlie)

→ she cares, she seeks out moments of significance

4. she’s rather paying attention to the game Solitaire than to the IT class (p.8)

→ solitaire = alone, isolated

→ again, paying attention to what others don't

→ literally involving with what’s alone, while being alone doing so; isolating herself from her surrounding by seeking out what’s isolate; bonding over isolation

→ she also evaluates that playing Solitaire does more for her intelligence than paying attention to the IT lesson (p.8) → being alone appears to be more beneficial to her

5. Michael enters the room and verbally registers the room first (p.8)

6. Tori thinks that he registers her only after he scanned the inanimate parts of the room (p.9)

7. Tori judges Michael’s appearance (p.9)

8. Michael ‘absorbs’ Tori’s face (p.9)

→ not just ‘looking’ or ‘seeing’, he literally takes her in from her perspective

9. ‘his eyes flare up’ + ‘I swear to Got they double in size’

→ most animated way Tori has described something yet

→ (I love the eye flaming up phrase so much!)

10. ‘leaps towards me like a pouncing lion’ (p.9)

→ comparison

→ wildness, strength

→ movement towards her (contrary to the last described encounter in which Becky, her allegedly best friend physically moves away from her)

11. ’ fiercely enough that I stumble backward in fear that he might crush me completely’ (p.9)

→ it is possible that Michael actually moves in such exaggerated manner, but it might also be such a drastic contrast to Tori that she uses such strong wordings to describe him due to not being used that people react so strongly to her

→ the unfamiliarity of Michaels demeanor overwhelms Tori

12. ‘he leans forward’; ‘face only centimeters away from mine’ (p.9)

→ Michael leans into Tori’s presence

13. Tori sees herself in Michael’s glasses

→ she sees herself first when she’s forced to look at him closely

14. ‘He grins violently’ (p.9)

→ I just love that sentence, okay. Michael just has such a strong presence, especially in a place like school that Tori keeps describing as ‘dull’ (p.6). So many contrasts that crystallize characteristics.

15. ‘’Victoria Spring’, he cries’ + big arms thrown in the air movement (p.9)

→ he celebrates that he found her

16. Tori stay quiet and ‘has a headache’ (p.9)

→ contrast to Michael’s reaction; her lack of reaction

→ overwhelm?, confusion?; hating people?

17. Tori finds her picture awful (p.10)

→ insecure about her appearance

18. ‘It’s like I don’t even have a face’ (p.10 )

→ lack of identity, significance?; hidden away

19. ‘Michael steps back a little’ but only to give her back her personal space (p.10)

→ he moves away, but remains as close as possible without irrupting Tori’s comfort unnecessarily

20. Michael’s ‘insane smile’ (p.10)

→ Tori describing/ judging his appearance (she’s so obsessed with his smile, haha)

21. ‘Everything lit up like it’s on fire’; ‘He notices me looking too’; ‘’It’s like it’s pulling you out, isn't it?’’ (p.11)

→ the foreshadowing, hehe

→ he notices her actions/ immersion/ interest and reacts to it by directly talking to her

22. ‘You are definitely Tori Spring, aren’t you’. ‘This should be a question, but he says it like he’s already known for a long time’ (p.12)

→ he does know her from when he showed her around at school last year; Tori doesn't know that they already met yet

→ without knowing, she intuitively interprets his words correctly; he knows she’s Victoria Spring, he recognizes her and has known about her for a long time

23. contrast of interest level regarding the solitaire case/ mystery (p.12)

Tori calling the day ‘pointless’ (p.13)

→ Tori lost interest I the post-it and blog the second Michael joined the moment; she already stated that she finds significant in moments no one but her is involved in and with Micheal now being another person paying attention to the post-it, Tori’s attention isn't the solely presence anymore ergo she looses interest and a feeling of significance

24. Tori feels deeply for Michael’s sudden sadness (p.13)

→ she can’t but care

25. Tori doesn't know what to do (p.13)

→ the post-it task lost significance due to Michael ruining her solidarity, but now Michael she is alone with him and the only one who is paying attention to him, therefore his sudden reaction forces her to go through a sudden shift as well, him bringing a sense of significance

→ Tori’s apathy and confusion collide with the rollercoaster of the situation

26. ‘You don’t say anything you mean’ (p.15)

→ Michael doesn't know Tori yet sees through her

27. Tori describes her laugh as a ‘pathetic sort of expulsion of air’ (p.15)

→ emphasis of her insecurity by choice of words connoting a neutral thing such as a chuckle or laugh

28. ‘Who are you, Victoria Spring?’ (p.15) - ‘I am nothing’ (p.15)

→ we just got an introduction by Tori beyond only her name and now she states she does not know how to answer that question beyond listing her name

→ insecurity, low self-worth

→ also, the fact that she thinks so deeply about how she could possibly answer that question by a stranger, just to realize how she does not feel like being anything/ anyone more worthy than ‘nothing’, instead of not caring and walking away, well, proves that she does care; she listens and thinks and doesn't find an answer that she evaluates as satisfying

29. she doesn't know at on point Michael hands her the post-it before he vanishes;

‘This is probably how it starts’

→ with a moment of significance (her own definition of significance in moments of seemingly being the only one paying attention and taking action)

→ with being seen and looked at and talked with (encounter with Michael)

→ by taking action as one’s own decision (following post-it)

→ by being recognizes (by Micheal)

→ by an unfamiliar encounter in an otherwise familiar and dull place

→ by being confronted with oneself (seeing herself in his glasses; being asked who she is)

Analepsis

Tori became form leader by getting volunteered ‘mostly because no one else wanted to do so’ (p.9f)

→ taking action when others don’t

2. Tori’s hair cut story (p.14f)

→ her inner tumult and its exterior display

#solitaire #tori spring #michael holden #overanalyzing #solitaire quotes #it's rather listing stuff than analyzing #the formatting fucked up my counting🤡#imma fix it later ig #counting should be fine now

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