impact dinner

Appendicitis.

Word Count: 3251… woops

* * *

“Two double bacon cheeseburgers and one large quake shake” The waitress set your orders in front of the three of you and you smiled in anticipation. You passed the stale salad onto Sam who sat beside you and the tomato sauce to Dean. You picked up the beauty in your hands and took a gigantic bite into the chewy juicy burger. You moaned at the sudden bursts of flavours in your mouth and Sam rolled his eyes at your what he’d like to call ‘destructive meal’.

“Anyways so get this, apparently something is haunting this building down in Iowa every year this week. Five people have gone missing and it’s only Thursday.” Sam tapped away on his keyboard and you saw Dean simply stare at his burger in disgust. He sighed and pushed the plate aside while groaned in discomfort.

“Hey Dean, you okay?” He lifted his hand up while the other clutched his stomach tightly. His eyes squeezed shut and his breathing now rapid. You looked over to Sam and he simply shrugged ordering some water.Mere moments later Dean looked up from his pained expression and smiled warily.

“That was interesting. Pack this up for me? Gonna hit the little boys room, be right back.” Dean got up and you notified your waitress to pack Dean’s untouched burger.

“So any links between the 5 victims?” You asked with your mouth full. Sam pushed his laptop over to face you and you scanned the police report of the supposedly missing individuals.

“Nothing really, except they’re all 24” You gulped loudly enough for Sam to hear. You turned 24 just a couple of months ago and you didn’t want to be ghost food. Sam smirked sadly yet determined. The waitress returned with Deans packed burger and you smiled thankfully.

“Dont worry you’re skilled enough and we’ll be there. So how about we go check it out tonight? It says here they all went missing at around 4:00am and they disappeared on the same floor… the 5th “ You burped loudly and Sam pushed you playfully. Except the memory of Dean crouching over in pain flashed through your brain. Suddenly you began to worry noticing it had been quite a while since he was in the bathroom. You fished out your phone and dialed Losechester #1, you suddenly heard the familiar tone of Dean’s dirty guitar play from behind you and you saw a pale looking Dean.

“Woah, man. You all good?” Sam asked worried for his brothers well being.

“Yeah i’m okay. Catch me up, what’s going on?” You passed Dean your bottle of water and he accepted it thankfully. You noticed how he was sweating and you were in a completely cold environment. You leaned over to touch his forehead and your hand burnt at the sudden impact.

“Buy me dinner first, Y/N” You rolled your eyes and his snarky statement.

“That would’ve been funny if you weren’t burning up from a fucking fever! Dean you’re sick, you’re sitting this one out!” You folded your arms, deciding what would be best for him. You often wondered how bind his judgement could be as he barely recognised your feelings for him. The way you look at him or when he can’t tie his tie you volunteer immediately. Sam was the first one to find out, even before you. He caught you smiling at Dean’s rare roar of laughter and he saw the pure love in your eyes yet you didn’t believe him when he said the same thing about Dean. You didn’t believe Dean had feelings for you, he promised he would never be involved in a romantic relationship in this life so why were you different? You saw Dean slightly smile before gently touching your arm.

“Y/N…I’ll be fine. So catch me up” You felt the electricity within his touch and you sighed in defeat knowing he only had to say your name to win you over.

“Fine, ghost hunt, people who went missing all 24 and at 4:00 am.” You saw Dean’s ears perk up at the mention of the age and you raised an eyebrow at his behaviour.

“B-but Y/N’s 24.” You noticed Sam had finished and you slid out of your booth putting your leather jacket back on.

“Nice going Sherlock. It’s all good, I got you boys to look out for me” You smiled and you walked out the door hearing the little ding above your head as you exited. You looked back seeing Sam and Dean argue in a hush tone and you rolled your eyes. You opened baby’s unlocked door and slid into the backseat and buckled your seat belt while Dean threw a couple of bills on the table. He picked up his parcel and walked outside until he crouched over in pain yet again.

“Dammit” You were about to open the door until he held his hand up stopping you from getting out. Sam patted his brothers back in comfort and Dean exhaled in comfort. You sighed when you saw he was okay but then again you felt as if something was wrong yet you couldn’t put your finger on it.

The brothers got into the car and Dean shook his head, somehow believing that would shake the pain away. The engine ignited and the rooted rumble roared from the beast of the car as radio played a well suited song. You put the windows down enjoying the spring breeze accommodating the scenery, Sam’s hair flowing with the wind elegantly as well as yours yet you couldn’t help but trail your eyes to the older winchester. His grip on the steering wheel became so tight that his knuckles were now white. You saw the glistening sun causing his eyes to squint and his jaw tensed in what seemed to be discomfort. You were on a empty road passing by some bush until Dean abruptly pulled the car over and ran out.

“What the fuck? Dean?” He ran around the car to the trees and emptied all contents of his stomach. You unbuckled your belt and walked over to the hunched over brother. Sam followed your trail and you soothed Dean’s back by rubbing it back and forth as he heaved into the grass.

“There’s some water and tissues in the back seat, grab it please?” You asked Sam who retrieved your untouched bottle. You gently tapped his back in comfort and you saw he stopped heaving. Sam came back with the water and tissues which Dean accepted thankfully.

“Well I feel much better” You raised your hand to his forehead feeling the cold sweat surrounding his burning forehead.

“Yeah right. You look like shit. Come on, there should be a motel not too far from here. Lets go” Before Dean could argue you took of your jacket and rolled it into a ball throwing it beside the door so Dean could use it as a pillow. He sighed and walked to the car throwing the bottle inside but stopped when he was beside the door.

“Only if you sit back with me” You smiled and nodded at his request. Sam closed the passenger side and jumped into the driver’s seat while Dean sat beside you. Sam put the Impala back onto the free road and you put down all the windows and saw Dean became slightly drowsy.

“C’mere” You extended your arms and Dean lowered his head on your lap as he shifted finding comfort. Your right hand went to his hair and you played with it while your left hand rested on his shoulder. This is what confused you, the constant touching, the indirect flirting you didn’t know what to think of it. Dean’s hand accidentally brushed against your stomach passing your belly ring and he opened his eyes in shock.

“What the?” He lifted your shirt seeing your piercing and he looked back up at you for an explanation.

“What? I was 18, shut up” He smirked and laid his head back down still facing your stomach. You noticed Dean fell asleep quite after some time and you kept raking your fingers through his dirty blonde hair. Sam coughed which caught your attention and he smirked at you through the rear-view mirror.

“Not a word, Sam” you snarked while you continued to watch Dean’s relaxed face while he slept.

———————————————————————————————————-

“Hey Sam, pass me a beer?” You asked in a hushed voice while Dean snored on one of the motel beds. You flung your legs on top of the table while you read through some police files.

“Yeh sure. So this guy, James Riley. You think it’s him?” Sam passed you the frosty beverage along with the opener.

“Fits the puzzle.” You took a swig of your beer before setting it back onto the unstable motel table. “I mean 40 year old guy gets killed on the 5th floor and says here” You read further into the police report. “neighbours heard gunshots at around 4:00 am.”

“Any suspects?”

“Just one. Deceased though, a guy named Todd Barker, get this he was 24 at the time of the murder. Except he died before authorities arrested him.” You handed the file over to Sam.

“Did it say where he was buried?” Sam asked while he observed the file.

“Cremated.. But apparently he was a building sweetheart since there’s a shrine made for him on the floor and a bunch of his crap there.”

“Alright and the good part is they’ve gotten everyone out of the building thinking it was some mass murder hiding in in there.” You scoffed.

“Police are dumb” You yawned and rubbed your eyes. “So we go in, gank the dick and find survivors?”

“Sounds good to me, what time is it?” Sam asked as you lifted your wrist up showing it was 3:04am.

“Little over 3. So do we leave Dean a note or sh- No need, I’m up” Dean’s groggy voice interrupted your sentence.

“Dean I think you should rest up. You don’t look too well” He dismissed your concern by swinging his legs over his bed and wiping his sleep away.

“I’m good so where’s the building?”  You rolled your eyes knowing you can’t persuade that block head so you drank the rest of your beer while Sam filled his brother in.

“Sweet we leave in 10” Dean stated and he quickly rose from his bed only to fall back onto it. He held his head in his hands and he groaned in discomfort.

“Dean? you okay?” He lifted his head and smiled at you putting you somewhat at ease.

“I’m okay. Load up in 10.” He ordered before heading to the dingy bathroom. You dropped your legs and whispered a ‘yes sir’.

———————————————————————————————————–

You walked into the lobby of the empty building passing and dodging every single cobweb and rat. With each step a cloud of dust formed beneath the three of you and you looked over to Dean who seemed to be drowned in sweat.

“Dean!” You whispered catching his attention, you formed an ‘OK’ sign with you fingers and he nodded in response. Sam was no in front of you while you and Dean walked side by side. Your flashlight was now at eye level and you noticed the power was out.

“Fucking great we gotta go up the freaking stairs” Sam began to jog and you followed his trail. You only heard yours and Sam’s footsteps so you turned around seeing Dean holding onto the rail for support.

“Sam keep going” You whispered and ran down to Dean. He was clutching his stomach and slowly grunting.

“What the fuck is going on? are you pregnant?” You pushed away his jacket and lifted his shirt seeing nothing. Dean kept rapidly breathing until his breath steadied.

“Look just please go sit in the car. I’m freaking out okay so just go wait outside?” You asked him. Your arm stayed on his chest and he huffed tapping it lightly.

“I’m okay” You dropped your hand and he ran up the stairs after Sam.

“These boys are going to give me a damn heart attack.” You walked up following his sloppy steps. You checked your gun making sure all salt rounds were in there and before you know it you neared the fifth floor where Sam was waiting.

“Hey you guys good?” Dean was slightly breathless and he nodded in response.

“Yeah, all good” Sam opened the door and you checked your watch seeing it was 3:50 am. As soon as you stepped into the hallway you felt the cold air crawl up your spine.

“Not a good sign” You sung while you walked down the halls. Even though you tried concentrating on the mission your train of focus kept going to Dean and you worried about what he wasn’t telling you. You neared the corner and saw an orange light glowing down the hallway.

“Sam, Dean” You hushed and walk towards the light noticing it was the shrine.

“Guys I’ve fou-” You were cut off by the ghost of James Riley swinging you across the room. You hit your head on the wall across the corridor and you groaned at the unexpected blow.

“Mother fucker” Sam and Dean heard your crash and came running to your aid. The fading ghost of James appeared in front of you and you shot straight through him with your gun.

“Y/N” Dean called out and he rushed over to you before he was flung backwards. You saw Dean hit another wall and him passing out completely.

“SAM THE SHRINE” You called out as you furiously crawled over to Dean’s unconscious body. You looked up seeing James hover over Dean with pure fury in his eyes, you aimed your gun straight between his eyes and pulled the trigger.

“DEAN?” You were now at Dean’s side and you held his head between your hands. You gently slapped his face trying to awaken him yet he wouldn’t budge. You noticed his temperature was high yet again and you cursed under your breath, knowing he should’ve waited in the car. You looked up to Sam who was dowsing the shrine in kerosine and James now behind him.

“SAMMY DUCK” The hunter obeyed your request and you shot your last salt round at James. Sam quickly pulled out his matches and lit the shrine on fire. Behind you, James burned up into excruciating flames while he cried out desperately. Instinctively you covered Dean and soon enough the sprinklers began to turn on.

“Fucking hell, c’mon we need to get Dean to a hospital. Something’s wrong” Sam picked up his drenched brother with ease and you ran down the stairs carefully, nearing baby. He threw you his gun which you accepted and threw it in the trunk.

“Dean? C’mon buddy wake up” Sam chanted as he put his big brother in the backseat. You jumped in with him and held his wet head in your damp hands. You felt his temperature rise to an extremely high rate and the concern for your green eyed hunter bubbled.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Deans heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open though he immediately regretted it due to the blaring white light. He opened them once more, letting his eyes adjust to the room and his eyes slowly roamed around noticing he was in a hospital. He couldn’t have mistaken it as the medical scent was all too familiar. 

Dean’s head slowly moved to the right seeing your calm head resting on top of his bed while your hands interlocked. Dean smiled at the innocent gestures occurring within you two though he wished he could have more of you, maybe all of you.

Dean moved his body to the right regretting it immediately as a sharp white hot pain jolted within his being. He wheezed in pain which caused you to wake up almost instantly. Your eyes wide open noticing Dean was awake.

“Oh my fucking jesus christ on roller skates… DEAN! WHAT THE FUCK YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEARTATTACK” You raised your voice and you saw the smug look on his face.

“Aw you were worried about me” You scoffed at his masculine mask he puts on when he’s in obvious pain.

“Dickhead. Wait let me turn up your morphine thing” You moved to the other side of the bed pressing the + button hoping it would soon take over.

“Are you okay? you really scared me” Dean saw the sincerity in your eyes and deep in his heart he felt bad for worrying you.

“Yeah I’m okay… i feel a bit better. What happened?Did you find any survivors?” He asked while he slightly adjusted from his seat. Dean lifted up his sheets seeing a patch covering where the pain in his stomach was occurring.

“Well you passed out when dick Riley flung you across the damn room and your temperature was hotter than hell. So we brought you here and Sam went back looking around the building and he said he found the last girl only. Also the doctor said you had appendididtsictis” You mumbled the last word unaware of how to pronounce.

“W-what?” Dean chuckled and on cue his doctor walked in. You smiled at his friendly face and Dean realised how attractive he was. Dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes and obviously he went to the gym.

“It’s appendicitis, Y/N. How many times do we have to go through that?” He playfully mentioned showing his perfect bright white teeth. Dean saw you tuck your hair behind your ears, a trait you got when you were nervous.

“I’m sorry Dr. Matt. It’s such a stupid word” You remarked as you aimed your attention back at Dean who seemed to be glaring at the doctor.

“Words can be stupid? I have much to learn from you, Y/N” He threw you a quick wink and Dean’s jaw clenched in pure jealousy. He coughed obnoxiously catching everyone’s attention and he smiled irritatingly.

“Ah sorry Mr Davidson. So would you like to describe the pain that you’re feeling from 1-10, 10 being highest?”

“3” Dean replied nonchalantly.

“Alrighty then. I’ll come back in an hour then, and Y/N think about my offer and tell me later. Rest up, Mr Davidson” With that the doctor left and you rolled your eyes at his shameless flirting.

“What offer?” You sat down next to Dean and you pulled out the card the good doctor gave you.

“Coffee tomorrow.” You yawned from the lack of rest. Dean crumpled up the card without a word and threw it at the bin beside him, you laughed at his jealous behaviour and he avoided your stare.

“What?” He asked innocently.

“Ah… nothing. I’m too tired for this” You said as you jumped into his bed, carefully of the fresh new wound. Dean pulled you into his other side and rested his chin on top of your head. Within seconds Dean noticed your arms limp around him and your breathing had become soft and smoothe.

“ABOUT FUCKING TIME” Sam walked in with three cups of coffee in his large hand, Dean shushed him suddenly and he raised his hand in surrender. He set the cups on the table and he whispered to Dean.

“Can I please go tell Dr. Pretty eyes the date’s off? I hate that guy” Dean nodded his head enthusiastically and Sam marched off to do your dirty work.Though Dean looked down at you hoping that one day he’d be able to ask you out for coffee yet as of now, innocence was alright.

3

By Ken Ellis

Within a week of the announcement that the NYPD and the District Attorney’s Office had opened an investigation into illegal activities and questionable medical practices at Manhattan’s Oscorp Industries, sources indicate several of their top scientists have been asked to leave.

Reports cite the recent forced resignation of Dr. Spencer Smythe, the Director of Robotics, amongst others. He was seen leaving Oscorp Tower yesterday with a box of his personal belongings.

When asked to comment on the current employment situation of Dr. Smythe, Oscorp spokesman Donald Menken had no comment. Later in the day, Oscorp sent out a press release congratulating Alistair Smythe on his promotion to the Director of Robotics formerly held by his father. How Mrs. Smythe expects this will impact holiday dinners remains unknown.

ISXJs & Hyper Active Ne

I had an ask about what this would be like, and half-assed a private response, but I should clarify it because this can be a common problem. The more hyperactive your Ne, the more you mistype as other types. So, what does one look like? (And how does Ne/Si and Si/Ne appear?)

How does a hyperactive inferior Ne manifest?

Namely, in restlessness, discontent, the desire for change, a lust for knowledge, a quick tendency to blaze through a current obsession until you know everything there is to know about it, and then a return to restless boredom as you search endlessly for something new to trigger your Ne. It is, as Belle sang it, wanting so much more than this provincial life… realizing what you have, being bored by it, and yearning for it to change, but on your own terms and through what you are comfortable with.

For example, some ISXJs never change anything… their house is exactly as it has always been and even the thought of changing curtains is a big deal, because this is a settled environment, their safe and happy space, and they don’t want it disrupted. You can tell a restless lower Ne by how often more menial things change – I’ve gone through about a dozen color schemes and themes in my room since I was a kid; I’d choose something for awhile, live with it, get bored, and change it. How often I’d reformat and re-design my website became a joke among my visitors; I’d get halfway through formatting it with a new template only to find one I liked more, and have to start all over again… three days later.

I would fall into an obsession with something for awhile, and it’d be all I thought, talked about, and did for months… and then I’d reach the tipping point where I knew everything there was to know about it, and I’d lose all interest. The topic was now dead to me. There was no more potential for learning or ideas in it, because I had sucked it dry. The only way to reactivate my interest would be to present new information / discoveries that would cause me to look at it from a new vantage point; but once I have exhausted all potential vantage points (how many interpretations of this can I come up with?), Ne gets bored and asks “What’s next?”

I have tried out endless things only to abandon them after awhile – once I found out it wasn’t as fun as I thought, or as intellectually stimulating, or gave me nothing to think about, or opened me to no new concepts.

Lower but active Ne loves to jump into the midst of BIG THINGS … massive ideas, big dreams, big concepts, and then it discovers very quickly that in comparison to the Ne-dom/auxes in its life, or even the tert-Ne’s, that it cannot handle that enormous thing without feeling overwhelmed. These concepts, this massive abstract idea, is TOO BIG. Inferior Ne just bit off more than it could chew. Suddenly, it realizes that it’s not as big, bold, and badass as it thought, but is instead a toddler tagging along after the grown ups (NPs). (At which point the SJ has a choice – to give up and go home, to admit that it can’t grasp this concept or articulate it as quickly and keep going, or to pretend it’s more bad-ass than it is, at which point it is fooling none of the “grown ups.”)

What do I mean exactly? Well, I’ve been pondering the thought of writing a historical series of books in the style of Game of Thrones in the sense that it would be on a very broad scale with a bunch of main characters. The idea is so awesome that it excites me enormously – but since I’m lower Ne, it doesn’t take long for me to realize that going a step beyond conception into making it reality starts stressing me out, because lower Ne can’t handle 16 distinct plots all at the same time, and keep a dozen characters central to the plot, and come up with never-ending stories for all of them simultaneously the way George R.R. Martin can. Sticking to one main character is SO MUCH less stressful to me in actualization than it would be to spread myself out over such a broad canvas. Even the idea of writing an entire series in the same period but with each book focusing on a specific individual holds more appeal. (I can be that way reading his books, btw. I’d have preferred reading a book about the Starks, then the Lannisters, then the Tyrells, etc.) I simply cannot “Ne” the way Ne’s can. My attempts at it would be clumsy and sub-par at best.

You see, I excel in details where the NPs don’t. I look at doing something like that and quickly realize the sheer amount of energy it would take, realize that I fall short in Ne-terms of generating massive plot lines for a dozen main characters all at once, and choose to write on a more contained scale instead. The NP loves generating that world and easily handles two dozen characters at a time, but will often NOT write those books because the menial details involved in writing (crafting plot, getting everything down, scheming in advance, doing historical research, and spending hours transcribing ideas that have already been thought through) strikes it as… boring. It was more fun to think about it, to formulate it; and it’s more fun to think up ANOTHER potential book series than to write this one.

On a different note, highly active lower Ne sees ALL THE OPTIONS, and is intent on pointing them out, as if to PROVE that it CAN see ALL THE OPTIONS. (You’ll see this sometimes in other types, manifesting in different ways – the TJ who places an emphasis on kindness because PEOPLE HAVE FEELINGS; they are fascinated by their own emotions. The FJ who insists everyone back up their argument with logic, because they’re fascinated with their own logic; the SP who wants everyone to have a plan for the future, the NJ who insists people live more in the present, etc.) Unlike NPs, who are LIVING Ne, SJs are preoccupied with Ne, fascinated by it, because it’s that thing in their life that makes them restless, not want to close down options, uncertain what path or course to take in life, and longs for MENTAL STIMULATION.

Here’s the thing, though: inferior Ne is never going to be as open minded, impulsive, easily able to grasp and dialogue in difficult abstract concepts, as good at BS’ing with no time to prepare, or as highly-generating of possibilities as higher Ne. For example: the tendency inferior Ne has to “see all the negative possibilities, and become preoccupied with them.” Ne is generating both GOOD and BAD outcomes; because their Ne is so uncontrolled, SJs have a tendency to focus on the BAD, which makes them afraid of moving forward, so they avoid making that decision and run away from it. Think Cinderella in Into the Woods. She chooses NOT to decide, because what if she makes the wrong decision?! I’ve been there, and done that. I’ve dated a guy and fled the moment it got semi-serious, because – what if his mom doesn’t like me? what if I can’t raise his kids? what if his ex is a nightmare? what if I don’t like living in that city? I know! I’ll run away!! Avoid these things!

Higher Ne is generating both positive and negative outcomes too but because it is more controlled and skilled at seeing variables (and being comfortable seeing both sides at once), it tends toward placing faith in more positive outcomes – and it makes a decision and moves forward. An NP in my shoes in that situation probably would have married him, because his mom might love me, the kids will be fine, his ex is unimportant, and a new city will be fun. Where it falters is in Si-related things. Just as inferior or lower Ne can be pessimistic, restless, inclined to impulse (like giving away all your stuff, abandoning a project, moving to another city on a whim to follow a new idea, etc), inferior or lower Si can be sentimental, weirdly nostalgic, and rigid in holding to things that hold personal meaning.

Inferior Ne might be freaked out about a decision they must make at Thanksgiving Dinner that impacts their future, whereas inferior Si is angry because WE ALWAYS HAVE GRANDMA’S PUMPKIN PIE AND THIS YEAR IT’S PEACH!! IT IS NOT THANKSGIVING WITHOUT GRANDMA’S PUMPKIN PIE!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!?

As SJs get older, they learn to see the good possibilities as well as the bad, because Si has more experience (I thought the worst would happen, and it didn’t, so this time there is a greater chance my worries are for nothing); as NPs get older, they learn to loosen their tight hold on childhood memories or sentimental attachments and have more of a practical approach to reality (last time I did this, it didn’t go well, so maybe I’ll be less impulsive this time and think it through before getting involved).

SJs crave more Ne-ish things in their lives (excitement, new possibilities, ideas), and NPs crave Si-ish things (stability, sameness in areas that matter, family), so the hyper-active Ne-SJ places greater emphasis on Ne. (The SFJ, being Fe, wants to push OTHERS to pursue Ne-ish things too, because THEY crave it, and other people must crave it too!) The NP, by contrast, might crave things that remind them of home, that are constant and unchanging; that one thing in their life that stays the same, like Grandma’s Pumpkin Pie. (YOU CHANGED THE RECIPE?!?!?)

Ironically, while there are a lot of SJs without hyper Ne who do become rigid in their thought process and who are not restless in search of external stimulation, a lot of the negative, rigid, and overly sentimental behaviors often attributed to SJs in online profiles is more often found in “immature” versions of Si – namely, in NPs.