louis being honest about his insecurities doesn’t mean he hates himself. if you were put into his shoes and had to deal with what he had to deal with, you would probably have many of the same insecurities. EVERYONE has doubts about themselves, and when you add in what louis has been put through and how he was treated in the band (and since it went on hiatus), i’m not surprised by how he feels. the fact that he is expressing these insecurities in an interview that is centered around the idea of him as an underdog doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a lot of things about himself that he’s confident in and a lot of things he loves about himself. this was just louis expressing a different side of himself than one we’ve seen previously, but the other sides still exist too.
Have we talked about Dean's line, "What'd you let him talk to you like that?" Because I know people loved Dean's protectiveness which it was but it was also interesting because Cas doesn't let Dean talk to him like that. So I loved that it made us think about Cas' comfort with the Winchesters (Dean) and how he feels safe enough with them to fight right back. Whereas with the angels, he's not comfortable, he's not safe. He doesn't belong. We only fight back when we feel safe enough to do so.
Hi there, and yeah, I’ve seen a few gif sets of the line (and a few more of various crack takes on that whole conversation (HASHTAG MARRIED)), but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone tear the whole line down. So, let’s do that! :D
There was a lot of weight to that line, even just surrounding the circumstances leading up to it. It’s established right from the start of the episode that Dean and Cas have been giving each other the silent treatment for at least several days. Neither the Superwiki nor the episode itself give us an exact timeline, but I don’t think it can possibly have been more than a few days, since they open with discussing how busy Cas has been to have made the whole “Find Kelly” board, and the discussion about Mary leads us to believe that she just dropped them at home and went off hunting again, with Dean mentioning how “quick” she jumped back into it.
Regardless of timeline, Sam and Dean’s conversation establishes that it’s been a few days since they got home, and that Dean and Cas have been essentially giving each other the silent treatment for that entire time.
And the entirety of Sam and Dean’s talk about this is:
DEAN: I’m not pissed that he cares about us. You know, I’m… I’m grateful. But Billie said that there would be cosmic consequences if that deal got broken. You have any idea what that means? SAM: No. DEAN: Neither do I. But I’m pretty sure it ain’t jelly beans and g-strings. SAM: My point is, Cas thought he was doing the right thing. CAS: I was doing the right thing. DEAN: You sure about that? CAS: Yes. DEAN: I’m not so sure. And what if the other shoe drops? CAS: I’ll deal with it.
So we already know from this entire conversation that Dean’s only upset that Cas essentially took on the burden of their deal, that it seems like the “consequences” are now going to fall on HIM instead. And the consequences could potentially be worse than their original deal, because cosmic consequences (in the Winchesters’ history) have a tendency to escalate…
(interesting side note: while I’m typing this, I’ve got 7.03 on in the background, and in the scene where Dean kills Amy Pond he uses the same phrase, “Maybe in a year, maybe ten, but eventually the other shoe will drop. It always does.” Then he stabs her and says, “I’m sorry.” I just… there was already a parallel made between this scene and the scene at the end where Dean tells Lily Sunder that she’s done, but Cas tells her to come find him if she can’t forgive him. Okay. Sorry. Just thought that was interesting that the same “the other shoe” line was in that conversation above, putting the scene from 7.03 as bookends for the entirety of 12.10.)
(this is why I should probably turn off the tv while I’m answering questions. Digressions ahoy!)
So already we know that Dean’s not talking to Cas because he’s upset that Cas isn’t talking to him, essentially. When you boil the whole thing down to the simplest elements, Dean and Cas are BOTH pissed at EACH OTHER for trying to take the cosmic consequences on THEMSELVES, INDIVIDUALLY.
This is BOTH of them saying, “No it’s on me. I’m protecting you!” and the other replying, “Well, no, it’s on me. I’M protecting YOU!” And both of them trying to out-protect the other. I mean… married much?
*imagines an infinite loop of Dean and Cas stepping around each other to stand between the other and the nebulous future potential cosmic consequences and just laugh-cries forever*
But when there’s an actual physical and immediate threat, Dean’s ready to drop their tiff to stand shoulder to shoulder with Cas. Dean’s grumpy about the fact that Cas DOESN’T immediately allow him to stand with him against that threat, and the fact that Cas was ready to storm out of the bunker to face that threat alone.
I think that was the first time Dean realized that he and Cas weren’t on the same page here. That Cas might not have understood WHY Dean was so upset.
Yeah, Dean and Cas had been having a spat, but over the course of the episode, Dean and Cas BOTH get a clearer picture of what the other really needed to hear, and it clarified the DIFFERENCE between the way Dean was snapping at Cas (because he cares about him and is WORRIED for him and just wants Cas to let him HELP), and the reasons Ishim was snapping at Cas (because he’s an ASSHAT and ANGRY and bears a GRUDGE against Cas).
And now, Cas can see the difference.
But there’s also the fact that Cas was willing to take a bit of abuse from Ishim because they had history. Ishim had been his commander at one time, and Cas had taken orders from him. Cas also cared about Benjamin, and had said to Ishim that finding Benjamin’s killer was his primary goal, and so he was willing to take a little abuse for it.
And Dean sort of understood that line of reasoning. There’s a lot of abuse Dean would be willing to take on Castiel’s behalf, too. That’s one thing family does for each other, right?
Family might argue and get grumpy with each other, but when it’s time to take a stand against an external enemy, Family is supposed to drop their squabbles and face the enemy together, side by side, as a united front. Sorta like this:
When the first thing Cas was confronted with when walking into the Wright Spot to meet Ishim was this antagonistic scene:
Ishim and Mirabel, presenting an already divided front, with Ishim clearly looking confident, like he already knows he has the upper hand. Already it’s not about Benjamin, but Ishim is trying to make it about Castiel…
Cas doesn’t understand WHY Ishim might be angry about Cas’s involvement now (I mean, Cas doesn’t know yet that Ishim’s already on the defensive here, and is scrambling to keep the truth about Lily from coming out, so he gives him the benefit of the doubt, puts his issues aside for the greater good… until he DOES learn the difference.)
(I was just telling lizbob that I’ve been working on this ask for the last two hours because I keep getting distracted by 7.03, then 7.04, and now 7.05, because I am a sucker for extreme pain… and the parallels are SO RELEVANT to s12… and she directed me to this tangentially similar message she answered already, because she’s not letting herself get drowned in extreme Dean Feels like I’ve been all morning… so for compare/contrast, have her answer too:
What's the deal with Americans wearing shoes in the house? Is that a thing everybody does?
I wish I could tell you bud cause I don’t get it either. And I’m super guilty of it sometimes. Iunno. Sometimes ya just forget. Or you know you’re gonna leave soon and don’t wanna go through the rigamarole of putting them back on. I am all about the barefoot hillbilly lifestyle though I hate shoes and wear them as little as possible
Request: Could you do a smut where basement Gee shows y/n his “toys”???
(Hahahahaha this is gonna get weird)
“Mom, I’m home! Mom?” Gerard yelled, tossing his back pack on the couch. I did the same, sitting down on the recliner. Gerard picked up a scribbled note on the table, clearing his throat before reading it. “Gerard, dad and I are at Mikey’s parent teacher conference. We should be back around 6. Love you, Mom” He shrugged and set the note back down on the table. “Well, it looks like we have the house to ourselves. Should we get started?” He asked, referring to our project. We were partnered together for a 50 point assignment and decided to go to his house after school.
“Sure. I’ve never been to your house before,” I remarked, looking around the living room. Gerard and I have been friends for almost a year, but I’ve never went to his house.
“Oh, um, do you want a tour?”
“No no no, it’s okay,” I giggled, standing up. “I want to see your room though.”
“Okay sure. I’m warning you now, it’s uh…little messy,” he chuckled nervously, tucking his hair behind his ears.
“Come on Gee, you know I don’t care about stuff like that.”
“Right, it’s downstairs.” He led me down the stairs into the dimly lit basement. I looked around his room, walls plastered with band posters or his drawings. He had shelves full of comic books, action figures, and random items spread all around the room.
“You’ve got a lot of stuff,” I said, running my hands down he spine of his books.
“Yeah, i’m a bit of a hoarder,” he confessed, picking some stray clothes off the ground and tossing them in a laundry basket. “Sorry, I told you it’s messy.”
“It’s fine. What’s in here?” I asked, pulling the handle on his closet door open.
“Wait!” He yelped, rushing towards me. Before he could spit it out, the closet slid open. I scrunched my nose in confusion, what was the big deal? There was just some clothes and shoes and-oh. I gulped when my eyes locked on the black cardboard box on the top shelf, a display picture of a vibrator on it. I could see him shifting anxiously out of the corner of my eye, looking at me in shock.
“I have a lot of clothes,” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. I reached up, pulling the package of he shelf.
“Why do you have this?” His eyes widened at the sight of the box.
“I-I-I d-don’t know. Ray gave it to me last year for Christmas as a joke,” he quickly explained, his face fully flushed. I held back a laugh, Gerard was hilarious when he got flustered.
“Ever used it?” I teased.
“W-What?! No no no, no way.” He was even more red now and he was picking at the ends of his sleeves. “Is it, uh, weird? That I have one?”
“No, actually kinda hot,” I winked, giggling when I heard him gulp. Gerard and I have always had this flirty relationship. We both got really drunk at one of Frank’s kick backs and ended up going to third base. Ever since, there’s always been thick, sexual tension between us. Gerard was way too bashful to act on it though, so I always initiated everything-from hugging to making out.
“Have you ever used one?” He asked, leaning against his desk. An idea clicked in my head, a crazy but fun idea. I looked up and him smirked.
“Not yet,” I purred, setting the box onto the bed.
“Yet?” Gerard squeaked. I walked over to him, lacing my fingers around his wrist.
“Wanna try it out?”
“Are y-you serious?”
“Why not? Do you want to use it on me?” I kissed his lips softly, feeling them tremble against mine.
“Y-Yes, but do you want me to?”
“Gerard, we’ve made out how may times since we’ve met? Why can’t you see how hot I am for you?” I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck. He smiled bashfully, looking down at me.
“Sorry, i’m just not use to pretty girls hanging out with me, let alone want to do stuff with me.”
“You need to have more confidence, Gee. You’re quite a hottie.” I said comfortingly, running my fingers through his long, black hair. Gerard really was gorgeous: pale face, long eye lashes, full pink lips, bright hazel eyes.
“No i’m not, you’re the pretty one,” he smiled shyly, cautiously leaning down to kiss me. I smiled and leaned up on my tippy toes to kiss back.
“Come on, this will be fun,” I smirked, leading him back over to his bed. I opened the box, looking up at Gerard when I noticed the tape was missing. “Never used it huh?”
“Well, I, uh, I opened it to see what it looked like b-but yeah, never used it.” Gerard gulped, unzipping his jacket. I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but decided not to push him. He was never gonna tell me if he actually has used it. I pulled out the vibrator, both of us looked at the purple plastic nervously. I leaned over and kissed him, trying to make him feel more comfortable. I pulled my shirt off, watching his eyes light up at the sight of my breasts. “Can I, um, touch you?”
“Please.” He smiled and slowly massaged my breasts, his other hand moving around my back to unclasp my bra. Soon, I was stripped down to just my underwear. I leaned back on the bed, watching him slowly pick up the vibrator. He ran his hand up and down it in fascination, jumping slightly when he accidentally hit the on switch and it started vibrating in his hand. His hands hesitantly pulled down my underwear, staring at me in awe. I held back a groan, the way he looked at me was intoxicating.
“Okay, so I don’t really know what i’m doing so tell me what feels good,” he said, his voice unsteady and ten times deeper. I nodded, the anticipation killing me. He turned the vibrator back on, holding it against my clit. I whined and arched my back at the contact. He smiled, knowing I was enjoying it. He gently pushed it into me, looking up at me for approval. “Is this okay?”
“Yes, keep going please.” He smiled and turned the vibration up to high and continued to push it in and out of me. I was writhing and moaning underneath him, begging for him to pick up the pace. I cried out when it rammed into my G-spot. He continuously brushed the vibrator against the bundle of nerves. “Fuck Gee, i’m close.” I gasped when I felt his tongue flick my clit, sending me over the edge. I screamed his name as raw, hot pleasure spread through my body. He turned the vibrator off and pulled it out of me, setting it back in the box.
“How was it? Was the last part too far?” He asked anxiously.
“You need to use your tongue more often,” I panted. He chuckled and sighed with relief.
Untold Stories of Les Mis: what the heck was going on in the life of the guy who switched clothes with Eponine before the barricade? Like, he wasn’t just trading his clothes for women’s clothes, he was trading them for rags of women’s clothes. How was that a good idea to him, where did he go. what the heck was happening in his life that he needed a filthy, torn chemise and tattered skirt??
Warning: NSFW, lazy editing, shitty humor, PWP, AU
Summary: Jesse makes a deal with Hanzo about a stuffy party that he doesn’t really want to go to.
A/N: This is pretty much so longwinded. Probably some inconsistencies here and there. I’m sorry. I am very tired. This is pretty much my first real kinda sorta McHanzo fic. And the first fic I’ve written in a long time. Please be gentle with me, lol. Inspired by all the fucking terrifying dogs that are in my neighborhood when I take my terrible dog for her walks.
He stands in front of the mirror, two neckties draped across his forearm. They are both fashionable, silk and expensive. One of them—a soft, powder blue—brings out the richness of his eyes. The other—a bold, elegant red—makes a statement. It exclaims pride, confidence, power.
Warnings: None :)
Imagine for: Dean
Request: “Hi! I was wondering if I could make a request? Maybe one where the reader is a hunter with Sam and Dean and is Dean’s girlfriend, and she gets really bad migraines, but never tells them because she doesn’t want them to worry. Sam recognizes the signs because of the headaches he got, and Dean just freaks out and gets really over protective and takes care of her. Maybe it could end with some Dean cuddles? Please and thank you!”
View: Yours and Third person for a bit :)
Thanks for sending in your request! :)
Your fork hit your plate, the sound a crack in a window, a broken glass on the floor, sharp, and loud.
Placing your head in your hand, you made a soft sound like a wounded animal. This had been happening a lot lately, and thankfully you had managed to keep it from the boys for this long. For a month or so, every once in a while, a white hot pain blitzed across your mind, making it impossible to think straight. The migraines could last any where between five minutes to even an hour. They were getting extremely difficult to handle, and hide. Your boyfriend Dean was starting to get suspicious when you ran off to the bathroom or outside to get air, and you couldn’t blame him, you’d be suspicious too if the roles were reversed.
Right now, you were currently sitting in a diner across the street from the latest motel you and the Winchesters had bunked at. The seats were dingy, torn, the windows streaked with handprints and weather damage. But somehow, the broken down dinner felt homely.
You sighed as the pain started to subside.
The chiming of a small bell above the front door of the place brought you out of your trance like state. You brought your forehead out of your palm to see the brothers walk through the glass opening.
“Hey! There you are. How come you didn’t wake us up or something if you wanted breakfast?” Sam asked as he sat in the booth across from you. Dean slid in next to you, kissing your cheek. You mustered up a small smile, but the pain was still fading and everything felt out of focus.
“I don’t know,” you sighed, “I just woke up super early, so I thought I’d let you guys get your rest.”
Dean wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “You okay? You sound… I don’t know.”
“Yeah I’m fine, I- ah!” Your hand flew to your head lightning fast. “I just have a super bad headache. Il be fine. If it’s okay, I’d like to go shower.” You managed to squeeze out your words through your pain, and Dean moved out of your way so you could get out of your seat.
Reaching out to you, his hand wrapping around yours while you tried to walk away, Dean said, “Y/N, wait, it doesn’t seem like nothing, are you sure your okay? We could go see someone, or-“
Shrugging him off, you said, “I told you, it’s fine. It’ll go away soon.” The words came out sharper than you meant them to, but you couldn’t take them back now. You rushed out the door and jogged towards the motel, face in a semi-permanent expression of pain.
“I’m worried about her, Sammy. That’s not like her. She usually likes when I comfort her, you know?” Dean said as he sat back down in his swat.
“Well… Dean, I don’t think these are… Normal headaches. I’ve seen her have one before, when we went to see Bobby. She was sitting out on the porch.”
“Why didn’t you tell me! Something’s probably wrong, I can feel it. She should have told me, I-” Sam interrupted him before he got too worked up. Dean was stating to get angry.
“Dean, remember when I was getting my headaches? We got in lots of… Arguments. We didn’t know how to handle it. With Y/N, you’ve gotta go easy, give her some sympathy. She’s in pain.”
Dean rubbed his eyes with his palms, sighing and nodding. He stood up again.
Your hair was damp, as well as your eyes. The headache hadn’t gone away, and you were getting worried. After your shower, you out on some comfy clothes and curled up on the couch. Knowing the boys, they probably caught on that something was wrong, and they probably wouldn’t let you hunt for awhile, until things got better. But you weren’t sure things were going to get better.The pain was so great, you couldn’t see things properly. Things blurred together, a never ending mix of colours and shapes. You pulled your knees to your chest, tears dampening the cushion beneath you. You pressed your face into the pillow, not wanting to deal with what was happening.
You heard the door open and close, Shoes shuffling along the ground. You felt a hand press against you shoulder. A silent sob wracked your body, and you felt yourself being moved, picked up and cradled, almost like a small child. The person was surely Dean, and he sat back down on the couch with you in his arms. Your tears seeped into his shirt, a puddle growing on his shoulder.
“Shhhh… It’s okay… Does this happen a lot?” He spoke softly, a cloud of words wrapping itself around your mind, dulling the pain. If only he could talk forever. You nodded, not feeling much like speaking yourself.
“We’ll talk more about this later,” he held you tighter, kissing your hair, “Poor thing… Do you want me to tell you a story?”
Every time you got sick or hurt, he always offered to tell you a story. You never accepted though, because it made you feel small like a kid. But right now, you just wanted to hear his voice. You nodded again.
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, with eyes that could stop the world from turning, and a smile that stopped hearts from beating, and a laugh that stopped people from chatting. One day, she met a sad, broken man, but she didn’t know that when she saw him. And that was just the beginning of a beautiful love story…”
In some ways you are trying to do poetry and all your artistic vision and all the notions and metaphysical quests and all the themes you want to explore…but at the same time production is a roller coaster that is very physical, absolutely incontrollable…If we think we can control the beast completely, what really the film suddenly starts demanding as a creature, as a living thing that starts to develop itself, if we are not humble to listen and sometimes go to extremes to serve that, then we become toothpaste producers or shoe producers. What we are dealing with here is a very complex thing, it is not a controllable product…We have to be a little crazy…crazy in a way that we have to bet a lot of money in something that you have to feel incredibly passionate, you have to have an incredible clear vision and mission with a great team, embark yourself in that, know that you can really fail badly, most likely you will fail, but if you succeed and you surrender to the process risking all, you can probably get a little bit of the beautifulness of transporting people to another level of conscious, of emotion, and you reveal something about life in a different way…That’s a lot, that’s for me the only thing that I like.