I got a hell of a lot more running through me than demon juice. [x]
Dean doesn’t bat an eye when the Impala starts to rust around the wheel wells and empty beer bottles litter the interior. He doesn’t change her oil when he should and he’s been riding on a donut for twice as long as recommended because he just doesn’t give a fuck.
Similarly, Dean will go three days without showering and what the fuck is a razor and he didn’t bother grabbing any of his nice shoes before he split town because why would he need a pair of Italian leather loafers anyways. Nice shoes are for nice people and his insides are all black and twisted.
He eats even worse than he did when he was human and Johnnie Walker rides shotgun every single night. He smells of aged amber liquid courage and sulfur and asphalt and don’t even think about mentioning it because the outcome won’t be pretty.
Chivalry has been buried six-feet deep, under concrete and hell fire and why on Earth would he care what her name was anyways. He doesn’t feel anything but white hot rage and want and it feels so good he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stop.
He grips his blade and it’s like high octane fuel pumping through his veins. His car is all rusted out like his soul and he just…doesn’t care. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out that the key to happiness is letting the poison that was always inside swallow you whole and spit you out as some new kind of monster. Alastair would be so proud. His mother would be terrified.
Come on, Sammy! Let’s have a beer… talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game. (x)
Have you ever been standing next to a friend, saw a fight happen in real time, and then turned to each other and said, “He/she was crazy.” One of you backs the first of the combatants, and the other is entirely on the side of the second. You can’t imagine how your friend feels different. Everything you saw seems to back your position. Your friend feels the same.
What you experienced was called selective perception. Give a person a preconception and they will not notice, or soon forget, anything that doesn’t back their position. When it comes to private fights, or events witnessed by a small group, it happens often enough. When it comes to events watched by millions of people, like television shows, there are wide gaps in how the same events are perceived by different individuals. I read recaps for a certain show, by a person I respect, and in my opinion she gets every single point the show is making wrong every single time. I don’t understand how she never seems to get it.
No rumor mill, please. It isn’t anyone on this site. But it is becoming increasingly common in science fiction and fantasy. As genre shows get more complex, and include more points of view, fan division on who is in the right, or why a certain action is taking place, can vary widely. This amounts to no more than snarking when it comes to minor points of story and character. When it gets political, people get heated.
What’s funny is, they always have. From the moment tv shows began getting into politics, people started dividing up over their message. A surprisingly divisive show was All in the Family. Running throughout the 1970s, it featured a bigoted American father who constantly butted heads with his grown daughter and her liberal husband. The show sometimes got flack from liberal writers, who claimed that it reinforced bigotry in everyday life. The show creators shot back that the kids were always in the right, and the dad was always in the wrong. Clearly, the show discouraged bigotry by making it the butt of every joke.
Then came a survey that showed they were both right. Liberals watched the show because they believed it reinforced their views. Plenty of bigots did the same. Whenever each group saw the other side score a point on the show, they minimized it or forgot it, while they were happy to remember any point - made by any character - that backed up their own beliefs. Two groups of people saw two different shows.
The argument isn’t the first since Dean came back to the bunker, but it’s the first time Castiel has been there for it, and he leaves in a flash of tan coat, slamming the door as he goes. Dean stares after him, a smirk playing across his face. Sam looks at him with a furrowed brow until Dean glances over at him, black eyes shifting back to green.
“What was that?” Sam says, pointing at his face, and Dean grins again, looking toward the door.
“He’s kinda hot when he’s angry,” he says with a shrug.
Sam’s eyebrows all but disappear under his hair.
“Seriously?” he says, “You’ve been a demon for like a month, and suddenly you’re batting for the other team?”
“Please,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “I’ve always been an equal opportunity kind of guy.”
Sam just stares at him.
"I’m telling you, Sammy, this whole demon thing is a blessing in disguise. I’m just… I’m good, man," Dean says, rolling his neck and sinking back against his chair comfortably, "I’m chill. The old me would be freaking the hell out at just the thought of telling you that. But me? I can flat out tell you that after we dealt with those Necromancers in Pennsylvania last year I went back to Aaron’s place and sucked his dick so hard he howled, and I don’t even care.”
“You,” Sam starts, but nothing else comes.
“Seriously, you wouldn’t have thought to look at him,” Dean goes on with a smirk, “dude’s a screamer.”
Sam looks like his entire world is collapsing around him. Dean rises and thumps him on the shoulder.
“Buck up, Sammy,” he says, stretching out his arms until the joints pop, “I’m heading out for a bit.”
“Where?” Sam croaks, though his eyes are glazed and he barely looks like he’s listening any more.
“Well,” Dean says, leaning his hands on the chair back and looking toward the door that Castiel just slammed, “first I’m gonna see if Cas is up for a little Heaven-and-Hell merger, and depending on how that goes, I’ll head over to the bar. Gotta work off a little of this pent-upness, if you catch my drift.”
Sam blinks. Blinks again. His head shakes vaguely.
“You’re going to go proposition Cas?” he asks, as if Dean’s just told him he’s going to murder some puppies, “are you kidding me?”
Shrugging, Dean starts walking backwards toward the door.
“I’m a demon,” he says, eyes flashing black as he winks at his brother, “I have needs.”
Cordelia Chase Alphabet
↳ Heartfelt communication
Before there was Lydia Martin, there was Cordelia Chase. And she was glorious, and she grew and changed and was fanfuckingtastic across two different shows.
the only kawaii emoticon you will ever need is this
it’s mike wazowski.
go hard or go home motherfucker
this took 16 hours, suck my dick