i just needed to make something okay

anonymous asked:

Okay, I need a Cockles reassurance because I know you're the only one who can do that. I feel like they were distant at JibCon. We saw the dinner photos and they were all sitting away from each other. Then Misha left Rome pretty quickly. I feel like he had Jensen at arms length this past weekend, granted we don't know what happens backstage or whatever. It's just a vibe I was getting. Plus a little more than tipsy Jensen didn't make Misha very impressed in front of everyone.

Okay, this is something I’ve been seeing a lot of and it kinda drives me crazy, because it’s just showcasing the fact that we never validate these people beyond anything more than a solitary moment. I love Jensen and Misha’s obsession with each other more than anyone, but just because they touch, and flirt and shoot hearteyes like it’s goin’ outta style, doesn’t mean that they don’t have anything else going on in their lives. 

Misha’s character was just killed off the show– and even though Cas is coming back, Misha doesn’t know if it will be in the same capacity that he’s loved and perfected over the last eight years. That has to be kind of heartbreaking. And he’s an empathetic guy, so seeing all of us be hearthbroken right along with him probably makes this even harder. On top of all that– the guy has been busy! In the matter of two weeks, he traveled a better part of the world. Either because of GISHWHES or conventions, he’s been running all over. And it also seems like Vicki might be pregnant again, so if she is– that is probably weighing on his mind too. 

All those things, all that stress and concern and heartache would make anyone a little less jovial than normal. Now, throw in the fact that your best friend and coworker (and maybe even lover) is partying a bit too hard and acting a little crazier than you’re used to, you’d be hardpressed to not show that frustration on your face. I don’t think Misha was necessarily mad at Jensen. I don’t think he wanted to push him away or “punish” him or anything like that … but if he was already down, then having to deal with someone who it super up, can be difficult. 

And on Jensen’s side of things … he probably knew all this about MIsha. Jensen is one of those types of people who tries to balance out his friend’s sadness by giving that much extra happiness. He has done it with Jared– when Jared is down, or sick, or maybe, not even there … Jensen goes over the top in order to make things better. I got that feeling when he was on stage with Misha this year at JIbcon. Misha was a bit more calm overall, and since Jensen had probably talked with the guy about it and knew that Misha was going to be kinda low, he decided to make up the difference. Also, Jensen just enjoys Rome and likes having fun and letting loose, so he took those extra shots and drank that last glass of “apple juice” and just had good time. And with as many hours as he works,  and with twins and a four year old at home– more power to him!

No one was mad at anyone. Misha just has a lot going on and Jensen is just a good, good friend. Like I say every time something like this occurs: Misha and Jensen are fine. Don’t panic.

Cockles is real.

3

Hazel: “Damn, Nina.. Make sure you don’t forget us when that line of guys shows up.. Don’t abandon your friends for just SOME GUYS, okay?”
June: “Don’t worry, Neen.. We will protect you from all those men. I hope I still have that tennis racket from when I was a child.. I will need something to whack ‘m away with..”
Nina: “Aren’t you guys funny..”

For Nicole @theblack-wolf

I hope this helps you feel a bit better! 

This isn’t my best, and it’s kind of short,so I apologize. If you would like something else, or more of this, just send me a message. 😘💞

 I met her at Bobby’s, he called her in for help on a case that she had some expertise on.

 “She’s a crack hunter, John, mostly working behind the scenes, research, making calls. Knows how to sweet talk any lawman or coroner in to giving needed intel.”

 “I’m sure she’s fucking tops, Bobby. But I…”

 “Hunt alone, I know, Winchester. Just give her a chance, idjit. One thing, don’t judge her at first glance. Just take my word on her abilities.”

 “Okay, fine.” I needed the help, and I trusted Bobby. But don’t judge? What exactly did that mean?

 I soon found out when she appeared in the room. I know I had a shocked look on my face as Bobby introduced her, I couldn’t hide it.

 “John, this is Nicole, probably one of the best women hunters around.”

 I stuck my hand out, not sure if I should crouch or not. “Umm, glad to meet you, Nicole. Bobby’s told me a lot about you.”

 She smiled up at me.  “Looks like he left out the most important thing.” She leaned over, slapping Bobby’s arm and making me laugh. “Yes, I’m in a wheelchair. Yes,I’m far from your average hunter. But I can get a large chunk of the hunt done from right here.” She patted the arm of her chair.

 “I’m sorry, I feel, I don’t know what to think.” I fucking stuttered.

 “I tell you what, let me help you with this job. If it doesn’t seem to be working, I’ll move on, deal?”

 I looked at Bobby, then back at Nicole. “Deal.”

She was right, Bobby was right. Damn if she wasn’t everything I always wanted in a partner. Yes, I hunted alone, preferred it. But with Nicole, she did all the grunt work, the research, the info gathering. She was great with victims, police. Things I fucking hated doing.

 We quickly became full time partners. She even worked perfectly with Dean and Sam when need be.

 “She’s great dad. Aren’t you glad you listened to Bobby for once?” Sam laughed.

 “Yeah, once in awhile the old man has a good idea.”

 “She is great dad, and she’s perfect for you, in more ways than one.” Dean smirked over his burger at me.

 “What’s that supposed to mean, boy?”

 “Nothing, nothing.” He held his hands up.

 That night, as I was trying to fall asleep, Dean’s words ran through my head. I knew what he was getting at. I just didn’t realize how fucking obvious I was being. I had fallen for her.

 And I soon found out that my feelings were reciprocated. After a especially tough hunt, one that resulted in Nicole spending an hour patching me up, we ended up in bed. I won’t lie and say it was a fucking beautiful once in a lifetime moment, although she assured me after that it was beautiful and I was wonderful. But I was so afraid, afraid of hurting her, not knowing how to please her, of disappointing her.

But here we are, lying here, Nicole tucked into my side, her favorite place she calls it. After our first time together, I learned exactly what she likes, what makes her feel good. She may look delicate, but fuck if she doesn’t give me a run for my money in bed.

 It’s been a year since we first met. 6 months since we first made love. 3 months since I took off my wedding ring. And one day since I put on my new ring.

 She is everything I never knew I needed.  She is my heart and soul.

 And there is no place I would rather be then in her arms.

Forever

I know everyone is super pissed at tonights ep and rightly so, but I just need to address something. To those who have had a abortion, its okay. If you decided to continue with your pregnancy, its okay. Don’t let this shows shitty attitude that the show is displaying make you feel guilty. Ya hear me? Ignore this shit.

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

3 am sentence starters

  • “ why are you awake? “
  • “ i can’t sleep. “
  • “ go to bed already. “
  • “ i’m a being of pure power, i don’t need sleep. “
  • “ i’ve been running on 5 hour energy all day, there’s no stopping now. “
  • “ i’m. so. tired. “
  • “ i had a nightmare. “
  • “ it’s nothing, go back to bed. “
  • “ when’s the last time you slept? “
  • “ you’re clearly exhausted. why are you doing this to yourself? “ 
  • “ wake up. wake up. wake uuuuup. “
  • “ i’ll sleep when i’m dead. “
  • “ yawning doesn’t mean i’m tired! maybe i’m just bored by you telling me to go to sleep so much. “
  • “ is something wrong? “
  • “ i just need to finish what i’m doing, then i’ll sleep. “
  • “ you said you were about to go to bed two hours ago. c’mon, time’s up. “
  • “ is it okay if i sleep in your bed tonight? i’m kinda freaked out. “
  • “ stop bossing me around, you’re not my mom. i’ll go to sleep when i want to. “
  • “ you’re pouring coffee all over the counter. “ 
  • “ why are you making hot pockets at 3 am? “
  • “ i don’t care when you go to bed, but do you have to wake me up in the middle of the night with your loud music?! “
2

I got a call from Ali Adler and Andrew Kreisberg, and they were saying, “Hey, we’d really love for you to come in and sit down so we can talk creative with you.” I was like, “Oh, okay, I didn’t realize we were going to do that, that’s great!” I was sitting in their office, and all of a sudden, they’re like, “So, we want to just tell you what we’re thinking, what we’re going to do, and wanted to get your take on it.” They had this funny little smile on their face, I’m like, “What’s going on?” They’re like, “Well, so this season, Alex is gay.” I was like, “Oh, what?” They just went into the whole story, explaining the why behind the what, and that it’s not like this thing that all of a sudden is just spilling out, it’s a discovery for her. That’s how we wanted to approach it. You have so many stories — shows and movies — where people are already established as gay, lesbian, bi[sexual]; these are people who are coming in like that. This was a great opportunity to show somebody who’s figuring it out, the light bulb moment and putting the puzzle pieces together.

When they were explaining it to me, I was like, “Wow, I wouldn’t have thought it,” because last season you just didn’t really see any of that side of Alex. When they originally said, “Hey, we’re thinking about a love interest,” but they didn’t say what the whole thing was, I was almost like, “Oh, I don’t know if we should do that yet,” because I don’t want it to become about Alex in a relationship, where we don’t get to see enough about her discovering more about who she is because so much of it was hidden last season. Then when they started to explain the whole idea, at first I was kind of taken back a little bit, not in a negative way, but just going, “Oh, okay.” Then the weight of it hit me, thinking, “Oooh, okay, we need to really, really do justice to this in a really beautiful way.” It was right around the time of the Orlando shooting, and I just all of a sudden was hit with this weight, because I knew that then I was going to be a face for the LGBT community, and I was like, “I gotta get this right. I don’t want to go out there and say one thing and then do something else. I just want to make sure that this is very respectful and tasteful and being done with sensitivity.

read more on EW.

DOCTOR DREAMY | PT.1

pt1 | pt2 | (1/?)

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, eventual smut + expecting parents au

word Count: 4,724

request: sperm donor ex-boyfriend jimin 

↠ description: Okay, maybe in hindsight asking your ex-boyfriend, who you never really got over, to be your sperm-donor wasn’t the brightest of ideas.

cr.


“I want to have your baby,” is a particular string of words that is only considered acceptable in a certain number of situations.

Maybe between two lovers getting lost in the moment of their heightened feelings, and somehow the words just slip — that’s probably the most common occurrence of the phrase. Or maybe it’s a night out, alcohol in your system, and the words just sort of spill past your lips to the most ridiculously attractive stranger you’ve ever seen before you can even think to stop them. Even that, can still be considered at least borderline passable usage of the phrase. Hell, even the instance of a teenage girl proclaiming her love for her favorite celebrity with the heavy proclamation is still considered normal for the most part.

These, along with a few far-fetched others, were the only situations you could think of that allowed for the usage of those six words to be passable, yet, here you were, uttering that exact phrase, when you were in absolutely none of them. You weren’t getting caught up in the moment with lust-glazed eyes, you weren’t drunk and spewing nonsense at a bar to some guy, and you most certainly weren’t some star struck teenage girl staring up at her celebrity crush’s poster.

No, you were none of those things.

Instead, you were sitting across from your ex-boyfriend telling him that you wanted to have his baby… Yeah, totally passable usage of the phrase, right?

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Honestly, I think that people should have to see a psychologist the same way they need to see a dentist or a primary physician. There isn’t a single person on the planet that couldn’t benefit from regular psychological health visits. And like any other doctor it would be different for everyone. Some people just need to stop in every 6-12 months to make sure everything okay unless something comes up, and others need to be seen more often. But the rate at which mental illness has skyrocketed in the world over the last few decades is alarming and it’s really something that needs to be given attention to.

the best parts of the raven boys (featuring me crying)

- adam and ronan literally dragging each other on moving dollys behind the bmw like what nerds

- “if it had a social security number, ronan had fought with it”

- noah told them like 400 times that he was dead why was this news

- ronan being so extra about picking fights with declan. school? sure. monmouth? hell yea. nino’s parking lot? let’s fuckin go!!!

- the first thing blue ever sees ronan do is run into the light hanging above the booth at nino’s #clumsygay™

- ronan’s number on the nino’s bathroom stall door (honestly what the fuck)

- president cell phone

- gansey describing his friends as “the sulky one” and “the smudgy one”

- take a shot every time blue or adam call gansey condescending 

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Digital Painting: tips for beginners

Heyo! I got asked if I could make a tutorial on digital painting so I’m gonna throw together some advice meant for people who are starting out and want to figure out exactly how this stuff all works. Because it’s hard! What I hope to accomplish here is to make painting more approachable for you.

Firstly, I have put together something like this before, so for archival purposes here it is: http://holy-quinity.tumblr.com/post/89594801811/i-dont-know-how-much-of-this-kind-of-thing-you

For those of you who don’t wanna bother reading that, here are the main points:

1. Learn your program and its tools, from brush properties to layer styles. And I mean learn them. Make a cheatsheet that shows you exactly what each button and scale does, both in isolation and in conjunction with other buttons and scales. Refer to this as much as possible until it is intuitive. The end goal is to know exactly what to do to your brush’s settings to achieve a given effect.

2. It’s perfectly okay to use your sketches, linearts, and other forms of line in your paintings. They can help guide the form and there’s no need to make something fully “lineless”! I never make things “lineless.”

3. Study other people’s art and try to think how they could have possibly achieved the effects they did. You can learn a lot just by observing and mentally recreating the process stroke by stroke—muscle memory is a powerful tool at your disposal. This becomes easier to do once you’ve started doing item 1 above.

OKAY!

So where the heck do you even begin?

What I’m gonna do is try to make digital painting as approachable as possible for someone who’s never really done it. The main idea here is that digital painting is just like real painting. So if you’ve ever done real painting, you already kinda know what’s coming.

I’m gonna assume you know the basics of digital art: you can sketch, line those sketches using layers and opacity changes, and fill the lines with color, maybe even opting to add some shading…and you’ll get something like this:

You know, cell-shaded, or maybe the shading’s blended, but you’ve still obviously a line drawing with color put down on layers beneath the lines.

The next intuitive step is to try going “lineless”…but when you remove the lines you get this:

idk about you but I’m laughing at how stupid this looks

When I was first teaching myself to paint digitally, I didn’t really know how to deal with this. Without lines, the form of the subject vanished or became a mess like the above. Even if I was meticulous and careful about placing down the color such that without the lines layer turned on, the shapes fit together, it didn’t look quite right. There’d be gaps, I wouldn’t know how to incorporate the subject into a background, the contrast wouldn’t be high enough, or it’d just in general look too much like a screenshot from Super Mario 64.

Painting requires a different process than the above. You’ll have to let go of some of your habits and conventions. Such as staying in the lines. Such as fully relying on the lines. Like, I love my lines, I love my sketches—but in painting, they are guides for form, and are not the form itself. So let me go through how I approach a given painting:


My painting process starts with a sketch (here a boring portrait for demonstrative purposes). I make the opacity of the sketch layer something like 30%, and then throw down my base colors on a new layer underneath. I’m not being meticulous about the sketch itself, because again it’s just meant to guide my placement of color. I’m also not meticulous about my placement of the color.

We’re essentially sketching with color. Because ultimately what we want is for the color to take on the form and shapes conveyed by the sketch.

There’s a lot going into this about how to use value, how to shade, how to use color, etc. that I’m kinda skipping over because it takes a lot of time to explain…but there are hundreds of tutorials out there on those topics so please, google around! I found some helpful tuts that way when I was starting out.

Something I find v useful is to keep selecting colors that already exist in your image for shading and hue adjustment. This is why I start with really blendy, low-opacity brushes when throwing down color on top of the background. I can then select colors within there that are a mix of the two.

For instance, I’ll select the color of the lines here:

…and use that to shade:

And maybe I’ll select one of the darker shades around his eye, but not the darkest, to make the shading a smoother gradient…and so on.

What I do in general at this point is go over the shapes and lines of the sketch. Such that I can turn off the sketch layer and see this:

I’m replacing the lines with shading and value. I’ll continue to do this as I keep adding color.

This is all super loose. I am not dedicated to any particular stroke. I just want the colors and shading and light source to be right. I’ll use overlay layers to boost contrast or add a hue.

Here are other examples where I used this process:

I am constantly changing brushes and brush settings as I paint. It really depends on what effect I want where. I am also constantly selecting new colors and applying or blending those in. I don’t believe in having some uniformly applied base color and then shading with only one or two…that’s what I’d do if I was cell-shading like the first drawing I showed you here, but painting should be about messing with color and opacity and blending to make millions of hues!

Good rule of thumb: Hard, opaque brushes for applying color. Soft, dilute brushes for blending colors. Sometimes hard, dilute brushes can make some cool blending effects! I personally prefer harder edges on my shading so that’s a brush I use often.

This is getting a bit long so I’m gonna split it up into multiple parts, but really what I want you to get from this is:

1. learn the tools at your disposal until they are intuitive

2. sketch and line are guides for form, not the form itself

3. rather, hue and value will produce the form

And of course, practice makes perfect!!! Every drawing you make, every painting you make, will bring you one step closer to the artist you want to be, and thus every drawing and every painting, no matter what, is a success.

here’s an acknowledgment to autistics who just aren’t that great at doing things! and have trouble remembering things and trip over nothing or accidentally hit yourself because you forgot where your body was in relation to your hand

you’re still worth something as a human being even if you’re not a talented super genius

you still have value as a human being even if you need help with certain things and can’t remember names or numbers, and needed to be taken aside to have concepts explained to you in school

you’re still good and okay and worth something if you have a lf of weird allergies or can’t eat certain foods or touch certain textures because they hurt

you’re a worthwhile person just for being alive!

cinderdrilla  asked:

hit me up w/ some voltron goodness 8)

Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.

Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.

‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.

‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’

‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance.
Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’

It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.

‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’

That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.

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His || Jungkook || 0.14

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14

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Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - Part 2

A/N: Sorry on such a long wait for this imagine. I hope that it was worth it though. Enjoy my lovelies:)


The final bell rings, signalling the end of class and also the end of the school day. You start packing up your things with shaky hands, your nerves getting the best of you. It’s Friday today. Which means it’s the beginning of the weekend. This also means that you will be going to Zach’s house, staying there for the next couple of days.

You have been able to stay calm and collected the next few days after he had asked you to sleep over at his house for the weekend, but right now you can’t help but start to feel really antsy. 

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worst behavior || nursey + jack

“Nursey.”

He doesn’t answer him, typing away at his keyboard in a way that’s visibly agitated, or at least irritable. What are normally soft, smooth clicks against the mac’s surface are now harsh, broken-sounding; each near-slam of his slim fingers makes a sharp clack in the quiet of the haus’ living room.

“Nursey,” Jack says again.

The continued silence makes it clear that he’s being ignored. Inwardly, he sighs.

“Twenty-eight, your captain is talking to you. Answer, now.”

At this, the typing stops. Nurse looks up at him, slowly, and his face is so uncomfortably nondescript and blank that Jack cringes a little inside of himself.

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Max Damage Dildo

Same group as the mega dwarf woman, consisting of a tiny ratfolk rogue, a blind kenku warlock, and a 7 foot tall lupine ranger (our half orc friend had to leave the campaign). We defeated a bone naga and found a hidden chest under a pile of bones with some unusual goods.

Lupine: Are these…are these dildos?

Ratfolk (is socially inept): what’s that?

L: Nothing don’t worry about it. (OOC): I take the biggest one.

DM: I can’t believe I’m letting this happen but fine, you pick up a 24 inch dildo and pocket it.

R (OOC): I also take one….I’m a rogue and I likes collecting things.

Next session we investigate a town where dead bodies have been going missing. While investigating a graveyard, two guards surprise us and are quickly determined to be the guilty party. They both manage to miss the Kenku warlock, who is standing directly in front of them…and is blind. The rogue manages to miss and is now the lupines turn.

L (*after a minute of thought*) OOC: I take out my 24 inch dildo and chuck it at the nearest one’s face.

DM: ….why did I let this happen. Okay fine, but you’re getting disadvantage because it’s an improvised weapon.

Lupine manages to pass all of the checks, and javelins the dildo into the guards face, breaking his nose.

DM: He’s just discovered something horrible about himself….he was really into that.

Our Kenku manages to climb on a guards back and hold a knife to his throat, demanding information about what’s been going on at the risk of his friend dying. They submit and we tie them up, while she also enters his mind and gains extra information.

Kenku: For cooperating I will let you go….you do not need to worry about your boss finding you. If I ever see you skulking around these parts again I will make you wish it was your boss who found you instead.

Guard: Okay…but please since I cooperated….can I take the object that hit me in the face with me?

L: Only on the condition I get to hit you in the face with it again.

R OOC: If she does this I wanna help and use mine. I may not know what it is but I know it’s the same thing and that I wanna hit him.

DM: Again, I CAN’T believe I let this happen but okay. Both of you roll a D4.

L: Uuuh I rolled a 4

R: I got a 4 too! Oh my god we rolled max damage with two dildos

We both high five and laugh uncontrollably for a few minutes while our DM questions his life choices.

Okay, guys. The vegan pet food post got something like 2.5k notes after the puppy bowl promoted a dog that was fed a homemade and seriously unbalanced vegan diet. I love it, good on y’all for spreading education. However, there was also a huge upswing in the notes of people calling vegans animal abusers for wanting to feed their pets a vegan diet. I cannot stress enough that you need to stop that. I literally just published an essay on how the overuse of the term abuse only pushes people away from being educated because it makes them react viscerally first and think later. So when you share a good, solid, educational link and follow it up with commentary condemning folk before they’ve even had a chance to read it and maybe learn things they were unaware of… you’re shooting yourself and your activism right in the foot. 

Most people who feed their pets vegan diets are not doing it because they want to make their animals die of malnutrition. They’re not doing it because they hate their pets or have no regard for their welfare. That is exactly the opposite of why they’re choosing that diet for their pet. The majority of vegans choose that lifestyle for ethical or environmental reasons: to them, it is a moral choice. We all project our morality onto the animals we care for to some degree - it’s why it is so distressing to learn your dog is aggressive or reactive or anything society codifies as “bad.” We are good people, and we love our pets, so how can they be bad if we are able to love them? Everyone does this to some degree, and often folk for whom vegan ideals are strongly moral ones feel like it’s important that the actions of the animals they love also line up with what they view as being good. In the case of vegan pet food, they’re just simply mistaken about the true effects of such a diet and not animal abusers.

The fastest way to alienate someone who thinks they are doing something good is to accuse them of being bad. Their actions align with their moral compass, so obviously they can’t be doing something immoral, so you are automatically wrong and your ability to influence their actions is immediately destroyed. When people are genuinely ignorant of the effects of their actions, kind words and genuinely well-intentioned education go so much farther than abuse allegations. That is the case here, so please stop accusing folk of abuse. They love their pets as much as you do and are often horrified to learn what they’ve been accidentally perpetuating. It’s not easy to learn you’ve done something hurtful to loved ones, so be kind and support them - you’ll help a lot more animals that way.

(In a beautiful example of demonstrative irony, this post is an example of me trying to educate you on why you are doing a well-intentioned thing that is bad and that you need to stop. But in approaching it, I’m not condemning you for doing something you thought would help - I’m (attempting) to communicate that I understand your intentions but that you’re missing some information that undermines your success at your goal, and then trying to provide you some more information to help you achieve it. If I just said “jeez guys, calling vegans animal abusers is a massive fuck-up” you’d be pretty disinclined to listen to what I had to say…)

I Think I Wanna Marry You...

Pairing: Dean X Reader.

Warnings: none.

S/P/N- Sister’s Preferred Name.

Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?

A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))



                                                   ~*~*~*~

Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.


“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.


Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand.  “Nothing. It’s fine.”


“Ya’ sure?”


“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.


Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked,  and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.


To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.


“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.


“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”


“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.


A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.”  She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.


“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”


“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.


“What’s in Boston?”


“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.


“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”


Dean explains it like it’s so easy.  To him, it is.  Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.


But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.


“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”


“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.


“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.


Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.


“Ohhh.”


“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.


Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.


As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to  he way she’s so awkward around big crowds,  or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.


Because he can’t.


Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.


“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.


Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”


“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”


“Dean…”


“Yeah?”


Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.


Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,


“—I asked Sam?”  She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.


His eyes widen. “Sam?”


“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”


“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“


“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.


Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…


Still.


He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy? No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.


 Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?


“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”


“I do.”


Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.


“You think he’ll say no, huh?”


“I’ll do it.”


“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.


“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.


Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”


Another nod.


“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”


Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”


“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”


“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”


Y/N  then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.


“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.


“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.


“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”


“Sure?”


“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.


She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.


Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.


This is gonna be a hell of a wedding.


                                                  ~*~*~*~

Part 2

I’ve been in my feelings for Dean for the past few weeks so bear with me pls. Also, I’m very excited for this story; more chapters to come, hopefully soon.

As always, likes, re blogs and general feedback is greatly appreciated!

  • okay but elias woke up a little later today - he wasn’t planning on meeting the boys until much later - and he’s surprised when he runs into sana, smuggling food from the kitchen into her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas and she isn’t wearing any make up or anything, which, well, it’s nearly 1pm. so it’s a bit odd, especially for her.
  • elias asks her if she’s okay, and why she’s still in her pyjamas. and sana just shrugs and says, quite aggressively, “you’re still in your pyjamas.” and sometimes elias would bite back, tease her, but he also knows when to draw the line. and he can just see that sana’s not in the mood, so he just says, “any plans today?”
  • sana stares at him and shrugs, says, “nei”, then makes her way into her room, shutting the door, and elias leaves her be for a little bit. but a few hours later, elias notices she still hasn’t left her bedroom, which is kind of unlike sana. so he knocks on her door. 
  • she lets him in, but she’s kind of irritated; elias ignores it and says, “what’re you up to?” as he plonks himself on sana’s bed (which causes sana to sigh irritably, but she shuffles a little to give him space to get comfy anyway).
  • “nothing,” sana says irritably; dismissively. elias just looks at her and says, “okay” and waits to see if she elaborates. when she doesn’t, he says, “what was all that about last night?”
  • sana raises her eyebrows. “i’m allowed to have friends around, elias,” she snaps. “you do all the time.”
  • “yeah, but mine don’t drink in the house, and there’s never twenty of us,” elias replies fairly, but not unkindly. he looks at her, notices how deflated she seems, how upset she looks, and so he just says, “is everything okay?”
  • “yes,” sana says quickly. “everything’s fine.” which - okay, okay, sana isn’t in the mood for talking. that’s fine. so, elias says, “how about a movie?”
  • sana looks at him, frowning, and says, “what movie?”, and elias tells her that there’s this film on today, the one they used to watch all the time when they were little. and sana, despite herself, smiles at the memory, and laughs when elias does a (very bad) impression of one of the main characters. and elias thinks there is nothing that makes him quite as proud as when he makes his baby sister laugh.
  • they end up reheating leftovers from the other night and sit cross-legged on the sofa together, watching this film, which is funny but kind of cheesy and not actually as good as either of them remember it being, but it’s okay, because sana’s smiling a lot more now; seems more content.
  • elias’ phone rings just as the films ending and shit, time got away from him; he’d agreed to see the boys today. he picks up the phone and starts talking to them, to adam, and says, “just come over to mine, man, it’s chill, my parents are–” but then he catches sana’s expression; it’s small, subtle, the way her eyes fall to her lap and she prods at her food a little disinterestedly. maybe other people wouldn’t notice it, but elias does. so, he says, “actually, guys, sorry, film without me today, i forgot i made other plans.”
  • the boys erupt into indignant shouts about loyalty and how important their youtube channel is, but elias silences them, hangs up the phone, and sana says, “what other plans do you have?”
  • “well, they made a sequel to this film, and i think it’s stupid that neither of us have seen it”. and okay, he expects that to make sana smile, but instead she frowns and says, “but they aren’t airing the sequel at the moment.” so elias rolls his eyes, then says, “we’ll just have to find something else to watch, then.” and sana looks at him for a moment before rolling her eyes and saying, “okay. find something, then.”
  • she may not have said it, but she didn’t need to, because elias can already tell that sana’s feeling just that little bit better. and he’s so glad to see it, because he really hates seeing sana upset; can’t stand it, because despite how much he teases her, he truly does think there’s no one in the world who deserves happiness quite as much as his sister. and maybe that’s why, when they squabble over the last portion of food, elias lets sana have it. just this once.