#sisterhood of sam challenge

[msclaritea]

you are a truly disgusting individual. your anti queer rhetoric is sending the world so far backward, you are pushing hate towards a community who already experiences so much shit from others like you. drag is not dangerous, it is art. being trans is not a cult. queer people are not inherently evil as you so clearly think. you are a sick fuck and I hope you have a terrible day <3

Scotland's Hate Crime Act comes into effect today. Women gain no additional protections, of course, but well-known trans activist Beth Douglas, darling of prominent Scottish politicians, falls within a protected category. Phew! 1/11

Lovely Scottish lass and convicted double rapist Isla Bryson found her true authentic female self shortly before she was due to be sentenced. Misgendering is hate, so respect Isla’s pronouns, please. Love the leggings! 2/11

Fragile flower Katie Dolatowski, 6'5", was rightly sent to a women's prison in Scotland after conviction. This ensured she was protected from violent, predatory men (unlike the 10-year-old girl Katie sexually assaulted in a women's public bathroom.) 3/11

Samantha Norris was cleared of exposing her penis to two 11-year-old girls. Hooray! Unfortunately she was then convicted for possession of 16,000 images of children being raped and sexually assaulted. Be that as it may, Sam’s still a lady to me! 4/11

Scottish woman and butcher Amy George abducted an 11-year-old girl while dressed in female clothing. No idea why this was mentioned in court – of course she was wearing women’s clothing, she's a woman! Amy took the girl home and sexually abused her over a 27-hour period. 5/11

But most women aren’t axe-toters or sex offenders, so let’s talk role models! Guilia Valentino (in red) wanted to play on the women's team 'because of sisterhood, validation and political visibility'. Naturally, she was given some boring cis girl’s place. Yay for inclusion! 6/11

Mridul Wadhwa, head of a Scottish rape crisis centre, says, ‘sexual violence happens to bigoted people as well.’ She has no gender recognition certificate, but was still appointed to a job advertised for women only. Time to be ‘challenged on your prejudices’, rape victims! 7/11

Munroe Bergdorf isn’t just a pretty face! Public campaigner for a children’s charity until safeguarding concerns were raised, she was appointed UN Women’s first ever UK champion. ‘What makes a woman “a woman” has no definitive answer,’ says Munroe. Great choice, UN Women! 8/11

Katie Neeves has been appointed as the UN Women UK delegate. She switched from straight man to lesbian at the age of 48 and, in a leaked 2022 webinar, described how she used to enjoy stealing and wearing her sister’s underwear. A truly relatable representative! 9/11

Image

Last, but least, TV’s India Willoughby proves we women can call a black broadcaster a ‘nasty bitch’ who ‘wouldn’t be anywhere without woke’, dub lesbians men, insult the looks of a female Olympic swimmer, ‘joke’ about kidnapping feminists, and STILL get airtime! What a gal! 10/11

🎉🌼🌸April Fools! 🌸🌼🎉

Only kidding. Obviously, the people mentioned in the above tweets aren't women at all, but men, every last one of them.

In passing the Scottish Hate Crime Act, Scottish lawmakers seem to have placed higher value on the feelings of men performing their idea of femaleness, however misogynistically or opportunistically, than on the rights and freedoms of actual women and girls. The new legislation is wide open to abuse by activists who wish to silence those of us speaking out about the dangers of eliminating women's and girls’ single-sex spaces, the nonsense made of crime data if violent and sexual assaults committed by men are recorded as female crimes, the grotesque unfairness of allowing males to compete in female sports, the injustice of women’s jobs, honours and opportunities being taken by trans-identified men, and the reality and immutability of biological sex.

For several years now, Scottish women have been pressured by their government and members of the police force to deny the evidence of their eyes and ears, repudiate biological facts and embrace a neo-religious concept of gender that is unprovable and untestable. The re-definition of 'woman' to include every man who declares himself one has already had serious consequences for women's and girls’ rights and safety in Scotland, with the strongest impact felt, as ever, by the most vulnerable, including female prisoners and rape survivors.

It is impossible to accurately describe or tackle the reality of violence and sexual violence committed against women and girls, or address the current assault on women’s and girls’ rights, unless we are allowed to call a man a man. Freedom of speech and belief are at an end in Scotland if the accurate description of biological sex is deemed criminal.

I'm currently out of the country, but if what I've written here qualifies as an offence under the terms of the new act, I look forward to being arrested when I return to

the birthplace of the Scottish Enlightenment.

"It was only in Scotland that the Templars endured no persecution.." Albert G. Mackey

Knights Templars gave birth to the Freemasons.

The Templars practiced Dark Arts and Paganism.

The Templars infiltrated churches including the Church of England.

Reverend is a Masonic title.

Worship of the Pagan Adam Kadmon is worship of Divine Androgyne and Intersex.

The current Transgender Rights For Men and Drag, like the Gender Ideology in Weimer during WWII comes from Pagan worship, very sick elite fetish and Pedophiles. It steps on actual people suffering Body Dysphoria and physical disabilities, involving their organs.

Bottom line: Your 'Art' is FOUL and Fraudulent, meant only to please wealthy perverts and mock real women. Oh! And to allow access to children, for the perverts, you know damn well exist in your community.

#Transgender #Drag Queens #Fuck Freemason Tool Kevin Bacon #Scottish Hate Crime Law Is Anti-Child Safety and Anti-Woman #Women's Rights #Scottish Rite Freemasons #History #Catholic Church #France #Freemasons Include Conservatives and Liberals #Left AND Right #Bohemian Grove #Clarence Thomas #Gay Federalist Society #Black Boule #Hollywood #Propaganda Arm #Gender Affirming Care #Should only ve used for people with real disabilities #LGBTQ

[bestfriend491]

🌅REDEMPTION🌅

The Prelude

A love story that comes in 6 parts,

Condemnation: A story of a forgotten child

Aspiration: A story of young love

Tribulation: A story of escaping

Revelation: A story of longing

Realisation: A story of reality

Redemption: A story of trying again.

Summary: 6 stories related to your life and Okoye's, come together to make a love story worth the wait.

An Extract From Part 3: Tribulation

You walked into your palace headquarters, slamming the door shut as hot tears streamed down your face. 

You stripped the Dora Milaje armour off of yourself with all of your pent up anger, not bothering to mind the open wounds all over your body screaming at the sudden pulls. 

You wanted to leave so badly,  the constant abuse from the Captain finally started to weigh on you. 

The sound of the door opening caused you to turn around, seeing Okoye standing in front of you with supplies in her hand. Clearly she was here to help you take care of your wounds, but you didn't want her to do that.

Every week you and Okoye were stitching up injuries and slashes on your body made by the Captain. 

And despite seeing those injuries up close, every week, Okoye still stood there with the rest of the Dora Milajes as you were abused.

"Sthandwa sam…" She whispered, approaching you slowly. You shook your head at that.

"Don't call me that. Just don't!" 

She stopped as she got to you, reaching out for your hand, but you moved it away.

"Y/n, don't be like that. I'm here to help you." 

"Now you are. Where were you when everyone watched Captain Zoku make an example out of me once again! Oh right, you were standing right there with them!" Your stomach churned as the day's events came back into your head.

"What did you expect me to do? Challenge the strongest member of the Dora Milaje! " 

"I don't know! Maybe if you really cared about me, you would!" You yelled.

She scoffed at this, shaking her head at you.

"That's not fair,  Y/n." She said.

"NOT FAIR. What's not fair is her using a spear much more advanced than mine for combat, and making me her only test subject! I'm a punching bag, Okoye. Every week I'm being tortured like I've committed a crime, in a place that is supposed to be safe." You huffed, as you approached your bathroom, needing to take a hot shower, before cleaning and wrapping your injuries. 

"Being a Dora Milaje is supposed to be a sisterhood. We're supposed to protect Wakanda together, and give each other support, and right now. I don't feel very supported. I don't even know why I signed up for this. I've given my everything to become a great warrior and that woman treats me like dirt!" 

"This journey is supposed to test you, Y/n. It will be worth it in the end."

"Okoye, PLEASE. I will not be deceived into thinking that what she has been doing to me is all a part of the journey. Especially not by you! You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side!" 

"No, you're not. Because if you were I wouldn't be standing here bleeding from head to toe, while she gets to walk around without a mark on her body. I don't want to do this. I'm done. Becoming a Dora should NOT be this hard. I know that my mother's past actions might still be affecting the Dora Milaje and they might not trust me because I might turn out like her, but I'm done trying to prove myself 10 times more than everyone else."

You entered the bathroom, closing the door before Okoye could even offer to come in with you. The last thing you said through the door being. "I need a support system, and you have always known that Okoye. If I can't trust you to be one, maybe you should achieve your dreams without me."

Allowing the shower to run, you heard the footsteps going further away, before you heard the door reopen, and then close.

It was then that you knew exactly what decision had been made. 

Stepping into the stream of water, you let your body stand there for a moment, just to get the dried blood off of your face and body.

Then, you got to work, cleaning your body as you thought of the best way to get out of there. 

Once you were done, you got into a loose tracksuit, needing something that wouldn't hurt you more. Packing the things that you had in a bag, you decided to call the only person that you knew could help you. 

As her face showed up on your kimoyo beads, relief filled your body.

"Sister, what is wrong?" She asked as tears were now filling your eyes at the sight of her.

"Nakia… I need your help." 

Coming Early 2023...

#okoye x reader #black panther #wakanda forever #general okoye #okoye one shot #black panther2 #okoye #dora milaje #midnight angels

[kalinara]

Dream Show Challenge 2023

So it’s that time again, @singledarkshade issued her challenge and a whole bunch of us are taking part.  Keep your eyes peeled for the master list of entries, which I’ll definitely be reblogging soon.

My cast list is, as follows:  Hannah Waddingham (Ted Lasso), Pedro Pascal (the Mandalorian), Elden Henson (Daredevil), Rachel Luttrell (Stargate Atlantis), Adrian Paul (Highlander the Series), Grace Park (Battlestar Galactica) and Reggie Lee (Grimm).

Here’s my show:

Twenty years ago, an already famous crew set out on what was supposed to be the greatest heist in galactic history.  But everything went wrong: they were betrayed, the score disappeared, and the criminals scattered.

Until now.

They were know as...

The Silver Sisters

Our characters:

Kyra Blake (Grace Park) -  A brilliant pilot, wife and mother, Kyra Blake lives a life of perfect respectability, but it hadn’t always been this way.  Twenty years ago, she had been a Silver Sister, until betrayal and disaster sent her running for her life.  Now, the past is back with a vengeance, and if she’s going to save her daughter, she’ll have to face what she’s done and finish what she’s started.

Samantha Antrim (Rachel Luttrell) - Hacker, forger, criminal, she zigged when Kyra zagged.  Both Sisters fled the consequences of their failure, but where Kyra went for respectability, Sam went the opposite direction.  She lives life large and lavishly, but always with the razor sharp awareness that things can go wrong at any time.  Still, Sisterhood is forever, and when Kyra comes to her for help, she won’t hesitate to answer.

Gabriel Ramos (Reggie Lee) - A one-time victim of the Sisters’ crime spree, Gabriel has fallen on hard times.  The only way to regain his former prominence and prosperity is to resort to the same women who robbed him of them to begin with.  He does have one edge though: little Elly Blake.

Alejandro Campos (Pedro Pascal) - A henchman who’s never quite gotten the recognition he craves.  But there’s more than one way to skin a cat.  As a surveillance expert, Campos has access to a lot of information, and he knows exactly who will pay dearly for it.

Eric Blake (Elden Henson) - Kyra’s husband.  An ordinary man with an ordinary life, Kyra has done the best she could to protect him from any knowledge of her past.  

Captain Elizabeth Westphalen (Hannah Waddingham) -  Where there are criminals, there are cops.  Westphalen has a reputation for tracking down even the most elusive of criminals.  Except, of course, the Silver Sisters.  But now is her chance and it is very personal.

Chief Adam Beckett (Adrian Paul) - Westphalen’s mentor and closest friend.  He’d saved her once, when she was at rock bottom.  Cool-headed and patient, he does his best to keep Westphalen in check, with dubious success.

----------------

And now, our episodes:

The Sisters: Kyra Blake and Samantha Antrim, once members of the Silver Sisters, haven’t seen each other for twenty years, until Kyra appears on Samantha’s doorstep begging for help.  Someone from their past has kidnapped her daughter and she can’t save her alone.

Eric Blake has no idea what’s going on.  All he knows is that his wife and daughter are missing, leaving behind a whole mess of incriminating evidence that he doesn’t know how to process.  He has one hope for answers: Captain Elizabeth Westphalen.

The Avenger:  Kyra and Samantha use the latter’s connections to track down information on the kidnapper: one Gabriel Ramos.  Twenty years ago, they’d been hired to rob him blind and destroy his reputation in the process.   Ramos reiterates his demand: if they want little Elly back, they’re going to have to finish their last heist.

Meanwhile, Eric Blake gets a first hand look at the corruption within the police department as Captain Westphalen crosses line after line in her vicious pursuit of any and all information related to the Silver Sisters.  Worried that his daughter might be endangered in the crossfire, he goes to her superior, Chief Adam Beckett.  He lays down the law: Westphalen won’t be able to continue this crusade without some kind of actual lead or evidence.  For now, peace is restored.

The Traitor:   Alejandro Campos is a surveillance expert that’s been working for Samantha Antrim for years without any sort of recognition or advancement.  What he does have however is backup recordings of all of Samantha’s dealings, going back through the decades, including her meetings with Kyra Blake.  And he knows exactly who’ll pay the best price for them: Captain Elizabeth Westphalen.

Proof in hand, Westphalen now has free rein to go after Kyra and Samantha, in the process, revealing the truth behind her vendetta.  Originally, there hadn’t been two Silver Sisters, there were three.  

The target of the last heist was a data file that contained information on clandestine financial resources of entire governments.  They were betrayed, by the nameless, faceless man who’d hired them.  As law enforcement closed in, the Sisters fled, but Westphalen was left behind.  Adam Beckett was the one who saved her, by pulling her out of prison and giving her a new life and a new purpose: retribution.

The Doublecross: Besieged on all sides by cop and rival criminals, all of whom want a piece of the Silver Sisters’ action, or their hides, Kyra and Samantha return to the scene of their failed heist, where Westphalen and Blake are waiting.

Now reunited, the Sisters do their best to try to kill one another.  Until Eric Blake pulls a weapon on all of them.  As it turns out, the Sisters had not completely failed their heist.  They hadn’t been able to get away with the data file, but they’d been able to lock it, in a way that required all three Sisters to finally retrieve it.  Eric demands that they do so.

Kyra is both thrilled and ashamed to see her husband, but that turns into horror when it becomes clear that Eric has no intention of delivering the file to his daughter’s kidnapper.  He’s been working for someone else, the whole time: their original employer, the one who betrayed them: Adam Beckett.

The truth comes out:  Beckett had been playing both sides of the law for years.  He’d hired the Sisters many times, under fake names and faces, to take out rivals and get himself an advantage.  However, not long after the Ramos mission, he had started to feel like he’d taken too many risks.  It was time to take the girls out.

The trap had worked perfectly, except for the stolen data file.  So in an attempt to get it back, he befriended the abandoned Westphalen and through her, he found Kyra Antrim.  He sent Blake in, and then waited patiently for his chance at the third Sister as well.  Now he has them all.

The Triplecross: Eric Blake is victorious.  He has the data file.  He has the sisters.  And, after he completes his call to Beckett, he gets shot in the back.

Eric wakes up and drags himself back to the others.  Kyra and Samantha are free and preparing to ambush Beckett.  Elizabeth is still tied up.  He is able to surreptitiously untie her and pass her his weapon before he’s noticed.

Beckett arrives, smug and with officers.  He warns them against ambush, revealing that if he dies, his men are ordered to blow the place to smithereens.  He goes inside, smug and confident, only to find Kyra holding the disk containing the file in her hands.  In front of him, she destroys it.

A furious Beckett orders Elizabeth to shoot.  She aims her weapon at him instead.  That’s when it comes out: the Sisters had never actually split allegiences.  They’d realized they’d been set up and they made a pact to find out who had used and discarded them.  Elizabeth, the toughest of them, willingly went to prison so the others could escape.  She hadn’t expected Beckett to help her, but was happy to use her position in the police force to gather more information.  

Beckett attacks, and in his rage, ends up letting slip more about his own role in the scheme.  He’s subdued by a well-placed shot to the leg.  Gabriel Ramos is above, in a sniper position, covering the sisters.  Meanwhile, outside, Alejandro Campos is using his technical expertise to broadcast Beckett’s incriminating words, as well as the research that the Sisters have separately compiled about their treacherous benefactor: more than enough for competent investigators to connect the dots.  It might or might not be enough, but then Eric offers to turn on Beckett in exchange for a lighter sentence and the ability to have some (carefully monitored) contact with his daughter.

Beckett is taken into custody by one of his ever-present subordinates (played by Arthur Darvill in a cameo role, as this is a RipChat meme after all.)  The Sisters, Campos and Gabriel all flee in Gabriel’s hidden ship, where little Elly Blake waits cheerfully.

The real sequence of events is revealed here.  Kyra, alerted by some odd behavior by her husband, starts becoming worried about the safety of her and her daughter.  She asks Gabriel to assist her by taking Elly and keeping her safe.  Gabriel, while furious at the Sisters for his humiliation, was ultimately more concerned with getting revenge on the one who set them on him to begin with and became a willing ally.  When she went to Samantha, as they’d always planned, they discussed the kidnapping and confronted Ramos as though it was real, so that Campos could then bring the recordings to Elizabeth and alert her that they intended to move.  Campos had been a petty thief when the Sisters were active, and he liked the thought that by helping them, he was becoming an honorary “Sister” himself.

The series ends with the five “Silver Siblings”  in Samantha’s luxurious secret hideout while little Elizabeth “Elly” Blake cheerfully plays in the background.

And as a thank you to @riphuntertimemasterlegend for helping me figure out how to end this monstrosity of a show, I include an image for our cameo:

#dream show #RBACL Dream Show #Dream Show Challlenge

[dweemeister]

Sparkle (1976)

In 1959, three young women in Detroit’s Brewster-Douglass Housing Projects came together to form a musical trio. Sixteen-year-old Florence Ballard first convinced her best friend, Mary Wilson, fifteen, to join the group; Wilson then recruited Diana Ross, also fifteen, to join. On weekday evenings and weekends, the Primettes (the “sister group” to the Primes, later known as the Temptations) performed at local clubs and talent shows across Detroit, often covering hits from the Drifters and Ray Charles. The Primettes became a local sensation, winning a competition at the 1960 International Freedom Festival, and attracting the attention of Motown founder and executive Berry Gordy. Gordy signed the Primettes to a contract in early 1961, on stipulation they change their name. They became the Supremes.

One decade later in American cinema, the major Hollywood studios began experimenting with and quickly realized the box office appeal of blaxploitation. Blaxploitation is a type of exploitation film that features heavily – if not entirely – black casts and narratives, often aimed at an urban African-American audience. Generally, the subgenre concurrently provided a valuable avenue for black representation in Hollywood (on- and off-camera) and narratives concerning the community, all while upholding damaging white stereotypes about black people (i.e., violence, substance abuse, the hypersexualization of black women and highly polarized sexualization of black men with little in-between, etc.).

Released by Warner Bros., Sam O’Steen’s Sparkle, takes inspiration from the history of the original members of the Supremes. Sparkle arrived long after the breakup of the original Supremes (Ross departed in 1970; Ballard in 1967, but passed away two months before Sparkle’s release) and before the 1981 Broadway debut of Dreamgirls (which has a narrative with the same inspiration and story arc). Likewise, the film made its theatrical debut at a moment when blaxploitation was undoubtedly in decline. Repeated criticism from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), the decision of some of the subgenre’s stars to pursue interests elsewhere, and impatience for blaxploitation’s typical low production values all contributed to that drop-off. Sparkle carries elements of blaxploitation (as do many films centered on African-American characters), but, despite its myriad of flaws, it represents a glimpse of the future of black American cinema.

It is 1958 in Harlem, New York City. The Williams sisters – youngest Sparkle (Cara; the obvious Diana Ross analogue), middle sister Delores (Dwan Smith), and eldest Sister (Lonette McKee; whose character starts out as the lead singer) – and friends Stix (Philip Michael Thomas) and Levi (Dorian Harewood) decide to take their church singing experience to form a musical quintet. The sisters’ mother, Effie (Mary Alice), works long hours as a maid, and has little time to tend to her children. Without much consideration other than requesting promises that the Williams daughters’ schoolwork remains their priority, she lends her blessing to their idea. Dubbing themselves the Hearts, a successful showing at a local talent competition has everyone imagining how they might have a future as professional musicians. Both young men drop out of the group – Levi so that he can take a job with a gangster named Satin (Tony King); Stix becomes the now-trio’s manager and co-composer. The trio, now known as Sister and the Sisters (I would have kept the original name), soon become the headline act at the sordid Shan-Doo Club. There, the malicious intentions of others and unfortunate incidents will challenge the fabric of the group and the bonds of sisterhood between Sparkle, Delores, and Sister.

At a brisk ninety-eight minutes, Sparkle wants to balance the narratives for Sparkle, Delores, and Sister as much as it can. But Joel Schumacher’s (1978’s The Wiz, 2004’s The Phantom of the Opera) screenplay and Howard Rosenman’s (1991’s Father of the Bride, 2017’s Call Me By Your Name) story serves no one particularly well. Given that the film is named after the youngest of the Williams sisters, it makes sense that Sparkle receives the most attention. However, the pedestrian dialogue – especially in the most heightened romantic and violent moments of the films – provides Irene Cara little to work with. And if the ostensible lead actress is ill-served by the screenplay, the situation is worse for everyone else. Sparkle’s storyline – despite a worthy message of how she cannot depend entirely on others to find happiness or success – lurches from one cliché to another, the typical rags-to-riches story executed more interestingly in scores of films that came before and after this.

The connections to Delores and Sister’s stories are likewise poorly handled and edited, with transitions too abrupt for any sort of reflection about the scene prior. We learn about Dolores’ interest in joining the civil rights movement, but this character detail has no depth despite its centrality to a crucial plot point. Sister’s eventual drug abuse and domestic (and potentially, sexual) abuse from her partner is entirely one-dimensional – as if lifted from a shabby blaxploitation film with even less regard for its characters. Her fate feels preordained from the moment we learn of her quandary. Sister’s part in Sparkle is sensationalistic, torturing her and her loving sisters almost for the sake of it.

I can understand how the extremely simplified dialogue in Sparkle might be realistic, but the screenplay is also devoid of geographic, historical, and racial vernacular that places the audience firmly in the film’s setting. Rarely did I ever feel that this was a film set in Harlem, let alone New York City in the late 1950s. New York City – and Harlem moreso than most neighborhoods – is itself a character in many films set in the Big Apple. Bruce Surtees’ (1971’s The Beguiled, 1984’s Beverly Hills Cop) anonymous cinematography also undermines this aspect of the film. The lack of variety beyond Surtees’ medium and medium-close shots renders Sparkle a tedious watch. The film never suggests the claustrophobia that many contemporary independent films rely on to suggest intimacy or entrapment. Nor does the camera pull back far enough to bask in the magnificence of New York City, any of the featured musical venues, or even the bodily movement in some of the sisters’ musical performances.

Surtees’ purported lack of experience in lighting for scenes featuring non-white people also results in all the musical performances – outside of the spotlight beaming towards any of the performers – being surrounded in pitch darkness. In terms of lighting, this is an exceptionally dark movie during those moments, as one can barely make out backgrounds or furniture or even some facial expressions and features because of the poor lighting. It is almost as if Surtees wanted to capture the impression that one experiences when coming into a dimly lit room after exiting a daytime exterior. One’s eyes have not adjusted to the darkness, so the interior seems darker than it is. The only problem is that Surtees never adjusts, and it is not clear what purpose this serves emotionally, narratively, or even atmospherically (because almost all other interior scenes in Sparkle are also underlit, just not as intensely as the musical scenes). Your experience in watching Sparkle may vary depending on the quality of the print you watch, largely due to the poor cinematography and lighting that makes certain formats and editions unwatchable. This write-up is based on the print made available for broadcast on Turner Classic Movies (TCM).

The composer for Sparkle, Curtis Mayfield, was an innovator in soul music and 1960s R&B. Mayfield, one of the original members of the Impressions (whose original lead singer was Jerry Butler; “For Your Precious Love”, “People Get Ready”), left the group in 1970 for a solo career. His filmography, though not lengthy, nevertheless included one of the most popular blaxploitation films of all in Super Fly (1972). Part of Mayfield’s reasoning for leaving the Impressions was to find the freedom to integrate his music with a social consciousness (as one can hear in the Impressions’ “People Get Ready” and the songs in Super Fly). But for a project like Sparkle, Mayfield would have to find a way to replicate the Motown sound, style, and lyrics of early ‘60s girl groups. He may not have been the ideal candidate for this mode of R&B and soul (and one can hear it in this film at times as a handful of the songs pass too long without a quotation of the chorus), but Mayfield produces an always-listenable score and set of songs for Sparkle.

The Hearts’ debut number, “Jump”, has minimal instrumentation: percussion and select stabs of brass. It is a basic start, acted wonderfully by the quintet by showcasing the initial awkwardness that only begins to truly groove about a minute in. The boys, Stix and Levi, are obviously vestigial to the performance because neither sings, both only half-clumsily (look at 1:23 in the provided video) adding to the choreography. It works in the narrative context of the film. Once the Hearts become Sister and the Sisters, then the performances garner more musical interest. “Hooked On Your Love”, the group’s debut performance at the Shan-Doo Club, might be the most Supremes-like song in the soundtrack. From the choreography that just evokes the grainy videos one might find on YouTube of early ‘60s girl groups, the era-appropriate vocal ornamentations, and the fact that all three actresses (especially) Cara are having a blast performing, “Hooked On Your Love” is just a knockout of period musical goodness. I just wish the camera drew back a little longer so we could see all three sisters for longer stretches of time (and again, pity about the lighting). Cross-cut with images of Sister’s relationship and personal troubles, “Giving Him Something He Can Feel” is a wonderful mid-film number, for the same reasons as “Hooked On Your Love” works musically. Here, however, there is more narrative and visual interest. Its placement and the editing here – see those wary glances from their mother towards the disreputable crowd during the performance – is the film’s Rubicon crossing.

With such a great slate of songs, what a shame it is that none of the film’s original performances are available in soundtrack form. Instead, Aretha Franklin is the sole performer on the soundtrack, as she covers all the songs. No disrespect to Aretha (in my book, at least in the top five of vocalists in any genre during the last century), but the original performers deserved more respect in a commercial release of the film’s soundtrack. As it is, the original in-film performances are easily searchable, so one can enjoy the movie and the soundtrack versions and appreciate the artistry of Aretha, as well as that of Irene Cara, Lonette McKee, and Dwan Smith.

A year after appearing in Aaron Loves Angela (1975), Irene Cara had now starred in two major studio production a year apart. Neither film was a box office success – Sparkle’s box office records remain unknown, so I am going off educated guesses from a variety of sources – but this was still a point of pride for Cara to achieve so much just as she turned seventeen years old. Her best-known accomplishments in acting and singing in Fame (1980) and her Academy Award win for the title song to Flashdance (1983) would not be far off. Lonette McKee, in her film debut, would carve out a stable career through the 1970s and ‘80s, with appearances in Francis Ford Coppola’s The Cotton Club (1984) and Walter Hill’s Brewster’s Millions (1985). Dwan Smith has largely faded from the public eye since Sparkle.

As one of the late Whitney Houston’s favorite films, Sparkle was remade in 2012 starring American Idol winner Jordin Sparks, Carmen Ejogo, and Tika Sumpter as the sisters and Houston as their imperious evangelical mother. 2012’s Sparkle was Houston’s final film, and has been almost universally compared unfavorably to the original. Sparkle has, over the years, become a cult favorite among African-American audiences. Curtis Mayfield’s songs and associated performances, alongside a sincere (if incomplete and poorly photographed) depiction of black life in New York City were more than enough to help the film achieve that status. My reservations aside, the original Sparkle deserves that chance for audience reevaluation.

My rating: 5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

#Sparkle #Sam O'Steen #Irene Cara #Philip M. Thomas #Lonette McKee #Dwan Smith #Mary Alice #Dorian Harewood #Tony King #Joel Schumacher #Howard Rosenman #Bruce Surtees #Curtis Mayfield #WB100 #TCM #My Movie Odyssey

[televinita]

The Amazing Race: Fictional Characters Dream Cast Edition

(Found this in my drafts, totally forgot about the little exercise I drafted in January, based off idle thoughts I’ve had since last year while watching older seasons. One team per TV show per number, with one exception I couldn't resist. Choices picked based on who I think would be both be physically able to do it and who would make for entertaining TV, specifically my kind of entertainment which is the schmoopy emotional moments. No conscious attempt made to diversify types of competitors or balance demographics)

Kensi/Deeks (NCIS: LA) -- probably the clear winners for both physicality and ability to work together and stay supportive, but let’s keep going.

Danny/Lexi (Blood & Treasure) -- these two would get in shouting matches regularly under pressure but still kick butt in challenges

Peter/MJ (Tom Holland/Zendaya, non-superhero AU version)

Kurt/Blaine (Glee) per my brain's default BUT Sam/Blaine would be amazing too, possibly better

Meredith/Cristina (or MerDer if all-couples) (Grey’s Anatomy)

Jenny/Cassie (Big Sky) -- sorry Beau; you can play the alternate

Barbie/Julia (Under the Dome)

Kara/Alex (Supergirl, non-super AU version). Sisterhood!

Ned/Chuck (Pushing Daisies, Normal Human AU)

Jim/Pam would be hilariously outmatched in physicality but IDK it could be fun (or, per my heart’s song: JIM/DWIGHT, BECAUSE REASONS, probably that Jim thought it would be funny to put Dwight down as their alternate but accidentally sent it in and now it’s too late because Dwight will not be dissuaded)

Ryan/Kelly (The Office) -- because every season needs a high-drama couple full of bickering you love to hate!

STANDBY/ALTERNATE: almost any pair from Abbott Elementary; I don't care who but I refuse to choose (you know when I say that I mean Work Wives determined to prove that female awesomeness has no age limit, even though Jacob will be SO ANNOYED because he's been watching this show since he was a kid and is a superfan who knows everything about it and was desperate to please the casting director; and also even though we know the producers would see comedy gold in foisting Ava upon one of the teachers as a very unwelcome Surprise Partner. )

#cleaning out my drafts #i feel absolutely certain there will be a Season 2 with everyone I forgot. like Seth & Ryan #fictional amazing race

[pinknerdpanda]

Dumble-dorks

Word Count: 3,500

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Warnings: Grumpy!Dean, Gratuitous HP References, language

A/N: This was written for the @sisterhoodofsam and their Rejects of Supernatural Challenge. Thank you all for giving me some extra time to get this done. Hope you enjoy! (tagging @moonlitskinwalker and @idreamofhazel from SOS)

Betas: @hannahindie - “I didn't see that coming and I should have but you're clever.” and @wheresthekillswitch - “I could sense Dean's perturbed dimples throughout the whole thing.” - Thank you both so much for beta-ing this for me and also listening to me complain about my writer’s block through this whole thing. Love you!

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you would like to be added (or removed) please send me an ASK.

Gifs - x, x

Dumble-dorks

“Hey nerds. Hand check.” Dean’s booming voice filled the room, causing y/n to jump and Sam to glare at him. He chuckled as y/n’s cheeks flared a deep rosy pink. “What are you two crazy kids up to?” Dean chose a chair across from y/n, lowered himself into it and leaned back before kicking up one foot and then the other to rest on the surface of the wooden table.

“Sam thinks he’s found a case,” y/n’s excitement won out over her annoyance and her eyes glittered as she looked back at Sam.

“Great. Another case,” Dean sighed. Clearly the weekend of rest and relaxation he’d had planned was about to be thrown out of the window. He pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly checked his Words with Friends game, before turning the screen off and looking back at them. “So what is it this time? Demons? It seems like it’s always demons lately.”

“Actually, it’s not,” Sam smirked and turned his laptop around, pushing it across the table to Dean. “Ever heard of Freetown-Fall River State Forest?”

Dean looked at his younger brother blankly for a moment before realization dawned and his mouth fell open. “Wait, seriously? THE Freetown-Fall River!?” Dean’s legs dropped from the table and he grabbed the laptop eagerly. “I don’t think there’s a hunter alive that hasn’t heard of it! Every kind of supernatural being known to man has been rumored to have been there at one time or another. So what’s up? Ghouls? Poltergeists? Man, it’s been awhile since we’ve had a simple ghost case. Are you sure it isn’t demons? I’ve heard dozens of satanist cults use that place for rituals.” His eyes scanned the screen and found three separate newspaper articles. He skimmed each of them, frowned and read the headline of the last one out loud. “‘UMass Frat rush gone wrong or mythical beast? You decide.’ Really guys? This is what’s got you so worked up?”

Sam and y/n giggled and nodded. Dean rolled his eyes and shoved the laptop back towards them.

“It definitely sounds like our kind of thing.” Sam sobered and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Get this, one of the fraternities from UMass Dartmouth brings their pledges on a camping/initiation trip for the weekend, right? Out of the 22 guys on the trip, three fall off a cliff in different areas of the park, two suffer permanent eye damage from having sand thrown in their face and six wake up with mysterious deep cuts, each one with a different type of poison in their blood. Not to mention all their stuff mysteriously caught on fire - all of this with zero explanation.”

“No explanation? Sam...did you miss the part where you said it was an initiation trip for a fraternity? Didn’t you watch Animal House?”

“I know how fraternities work, Dean. I was in one at Stanford.” Sam’s face fell slightly and a pang of guilt slammed into Dean, who cleared his throat gently.

“OK, so, you’re telling me that out of all the monsters that are in that forest, you want to drive who-knows-how-many-miles…”

“1,643 miles,” y/n blurted out, cutting Dean off, the blush from earlier returning. “Give or take.”

Dean blinked at her, his face blank, before he glanced at Sam, hoping to find some sign on his brother’s face that he didn’t support this hair-brained idea. Sam’s face regained some of the excited glow he’d shown before, the barest hint of a dimple forming on one cheek; clearly he had no problem with this plan.

Dean blew out a forceful sigh. “Fine, but I get to pick the hotel this time. I need me some magic fingers.”

-----

Dean loved his Impala - truly. But after 23 hours of driving, he was beyond grateful to put her in park for more than a few moments at a gas station. The trip had been normal enough, except Sam, usually chief shotgun-rider had opted to join y/n in the backseat for a good portion of the journey.

Sam heaved Dean’s bag in his direction before pulling the strap of his own over his shoulder. Y/n reached for her bag, but Sam was quicker and slung it over his as he smiled down at her. Dean turned from them, smiling, and strode toward number 27; their room. He hadn’t had many places to choose from, but as his eyes slid across the room and fell on the small slot machine next to the beds, he knew he’d made the right choice.

“Come to papa,” he crooned, tossing his bag aside and digging quarters from the pocket of his jeans. He fed the box three coins and pushed the button before falling backwards onto the threadbare, sun-faded green and yellow coverlet. The subtle vibrations from the magic fingers he loved so much lulled him into a dreamy, euphoric state as Sam and y/n entered. Sam made a face that showed both discomfort and mild disgust, but Dean was too far gone to react and he simply closed his eyes and allowed the exhaustion to consume him.

-----

The next day was spent interviewing the witnesses. They’d all decided to split the list up to cover more ground and agreed to meet for lunch at noon to compare notes. The bells above the diner door tinkled softly as Dean entered, surprised to find Sam and y/n already seated, their heads once again bowed together. This whole thing was starting to get a bit old, he decided, beginning to feel like a third wheel. He slid into the booth, frowning as they both looked up, startled. Dean glanced down to see that they’d been looking at a book, it’s tattered cover hidden from view as it lay open between them.  Y/n hurriedly snatched the book and snapped it closed before shoving it into her purse and looking back at Dean, her face flushed.

“Well, were your interviews as mind numbing as mine?” Dean murmured as he turned his attention to the menu. He wasn’t looking at them, but he still caught the nearly imperceptible glance they’d shared.

“No. Actually I feel like I got a lot of really good stuff from the guys I talked to,” Y/n smiled, picking up her coffee and taking a cautious sniff before sipping it. “They told me about some of the hazing rituals and initiations in the past.”

“Yeah, mine too. I was actually kind of surprised,” the corners of Sam’s mouth dipped down toward his chin for a moment before returning to their normal resting place in a look Dean recognized as one of utter astonishment. “What happened with yours?”

“Well, first of all, somehow I ended up with all the stoners,” Dean set the menu down as Sam and y/n chuckled. “Seriously, it was straight up Fast Times at Ridgemont High but with the added bonus of a contact high.”

“What did they say?” Sam’s eyebrows narrowed in curiosity.

“One kept talking about little grey men with pointy ears and spears. Dude was a little overbaked if you ask me.” Dean winked at the waitress as she approached their table and took down their order.

“What else did he say?” y/n asked as she handed the menus to the waitress without looking up, her voice was higher than normal and her words ran together. “Did it glow? Was he short?”

“The guy I interviewed?” Dean scowled. “Not really. I mean I think I was about…”

“Not the guy, the little grey man?” Sam interrupted, looking at Dean just as expectantly as y/n was.

“Ok. Enough already. What are you two up to?” Dean leaned forward and jabbed a finger at the table. “You guys have been acting weird this whole time. You’ve been whispering and giggling like school girls. And...and...reading things...” Dean trailed off.

“Pukwudgies.” Y/n said and wiggled her eyebrows at Dean. He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Pukwudgies.” This time Sam and Y/n said it in unison.  

“Are you trying to piss me off? Or is it just a delightful side effect of what-the-hell-ever is going on here?” Dean sat back and crossed his arms across his chest, glaring at his companions.

“We think it’s Pukwudgies, Dean. The forest is supposed to be full of them,” Sam lowered his voice. “There are variations of the legends all over the country. They are humanoid creatures, with grey skin; long fingers, ears and noses. The Native American stories all say that they started out as kind but at some point turned on humans. You’re supposed to leave them be and they will leave you alone. But, when they get messed with, they turn nasty and people get hurt.”

“Ok, so if you thought it was a Pukwedgie...Pukwudgie?...whatever. Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?”

“No reason,” y/n said quickly.

Dean opened his mouth to respond at the same moment the waitress arrived with their lunch. One look at his burger was all the distraction Dean needed; he’d worry about the little grey men later.

-----

“GROPE? Really?” Dean scoffed incredulously as he gaped at the sign on the side of the weather-worn mobile home.

“It’s the Greater Regional Order of Paranormal Experts, Dean. They have a lot of experience  with Pukwudgies.” Y/n gave Dean a sideways glare as he put the car into park.

“Ok, but how is this any better than working with those two idiots...what did they call themselves? The Ghostpunchers?” Dean climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

“It’s Ghostfacers and this is completely different. Ghosts we know, but there is nothing in the library at the bunker or in Dad’s journal about these, Dean. I don’t know if a hunter has actually ever seen one before.” Sam led the way up the short sidewalk and knocked on the door.

Seconds later, a short balding man wearing glasses and a maroon shirt with gold letters reading “Quidditch Team Captain” answered, his eyes going wide as he craned his neck to see Sam.

“Hi! Are you Bob?” The man nodded and Sam continued. “I spoke to you earlier, my name is Sam Weasley, from the Not Natural Podcast?”

“Oh right. Yes, the pre-interview. Please come in.” Bob stepped back and the three hunters entered. “You look more like a cop than a podcaster.” He snorted.

“I’ve heard that before. These are my co-hosts. Y/n Granger, and Dean Riddle.”

“I like your shirt, Bob,” y/n smiled warmly as she shook his hand. Bob flushed a bright shade of pink and smiled back, clearly unable to make eye contact.

“Fellow Gryffindor, then?” Bob choked out.

“Dean’s a Gryffindor. Y/n and I are both Ravenclaws.”  Dean cleared his throat, but Sam ignored him.

“Oh, brilliant. I have a whole closet devoted to my Harry Potter collection.” Bob turned and led them down a small hallway, opening the doors at the end. Floor to ceiling, every inch of every shelf was covered in knick-knacks, charms, bobbleheads, books, ticket stubs, action figures and every other type of collectible one could imagine. Sam and y/n gasped in awed reverence.

“Cool.” Sam breathed, tossing an impressed look back at Dean, whose arms were crossed over his chest, an irritated scowl twisting his face. Sam frowned and cleared his throat.

“Bob, I was hoping that you could tell us more about the Pukwudgies.”

-----

“I can’t just leave her, Sam. Not here, not now.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his brother as he slammed the trunk. Sam and y/n came around the side of the car to stand in front of Dean.

“You have to, Dean. There’s no road,” Sam sighed, trying hard to suppress his annoyance. “But if you wanna off-road it and risk scratching her up, I mean, be my guest. I just thought you cared about her more than that.”

“How dare you.” Dean gaped open mouthed at Sam. “Fine! I am so done with little glowing, grey men and their bullshit.” He mumbled and patted the Impala’s driver side door affectionately. He frowned before trudging behind Sam and y/n, who’d already started walking through the darkening forest.

The Winchesters have seen their fair share of shit; probably more than double their fair share. This place, however - with its gnarled, thin pine trees looming around them, a thick blanket of fog swirling overhead and the ominous lack of sound - this place seemed to be climbing it’s way to the top of their lists. Large, weathered boulders swelled beneath a carpet of moss and leaves as the trio picked their way through the thickening foliage for what seemed like hours.

“Ok so let me get this straight,” Dean’s voice echoed eerily through the trees. “Ol’ Bob back there, he says we need to go into the darkest, most remote part of the most haunted forest in America and we are just supposed to believe him.”

“For the last time, Bob is a local investigator and…” Sam stopped so suddenly, Dean collided with his back and cursed under his breath. Sam held up a finger as he reached with his other hand for the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. The echo of a stick cracking made Dean and y/n freeze, their eyes scanning the forest in search of the source of the sound.

The faint sound of muttering could be heard as the hunters moved stealthily over the uneven, leaf strewn path. As they came to a small clearing, a throaty chuckle seemed to mock them.

“Well, I never would’ve expected to be glad to see a Winchester, let alone two!” The unsettlingly high pitched voice teased. Dean squinted as his gazed flicked around the open space and found a pair of red eyes glaring back at him. He tensed and palmed the demon knife, tucked carefully into the pocket of his jacket. A thin, attractive woman in a worn and dirty black dress stood in the middle of the clearing, her dark hair unkempt and her face contorted in a merciless scowl.

“What the hell is a crossroads demon doing out here in the middle of a haunted forest?” Dean smirked as he looked down. A crudely drawn devil’s trap was scrawled into the ground under her feet and she shifted her weight irritably. “Aww...the little hell bitch is stuck. What happened...got stood up for the prom?”

“Some half-wit, amateur Lucifer lover thought they would try their hand at summoning their dark lord and got me instead. Needless to say, no one was very happy about this arrangement. I’ve been stuck here in the middle of who-fucking-knows-where for the last two months.” Her chest swelled as she straightened her spine in an attempt to regain some level of dignity.

Dean turned to look at Sam and y/n who both nodded so subtly, he wondered if he’d seen it clearly.  He turned to face the demon and shrugged casually.

“That sucks,” He scratched absently at the back of his head with the butt of the knife.”Well, see ya around.”

The three hunters turned and began walking away as the demon shrieked in irritation.They all glanced back at the moonlit figure in the clearing.

“Seriously!? You’re just going to LEAVE me here?” She stomped her foot and blew at a stray hair hanging limply in her face.

“Yep,” they all said in unison and went back to their original task, a loud and creative string of curses following them as they cut deeper into the brush.

The air hung thick around their heads as the sky darkened from murky grey to inky black. Dean trailed quietly behind his brother and friend, silently mimicking them as they laughed and whispered up ahead. At last Sam’s long stride slowed as they approached a second clearing. Unlike the last one, there was no demon - stuck or otherwise, and it was clear that the sparseness of the area was done by means other than the force of nature. A shiver ran down y/n’s spine and she shoved her hand into the bag draped across her shoulder. She glanced up at Sam and he nodded encouragingly.

Both Winchesters held their hands in the air as though to indicate they were not armed. Y/n stepped between them as she bent and began tracing an intricate pattern in the dirt. The trees lining the clearing rustled softly and y/n’s hand began to tremble. As she finished the sigil, she pulled the object from her bag and set it carefully in the center before standing and lifting her hands in the air too.

“We beg audience with your council elders,” Sam’s voice boomed through the night air and suddenly the rustling stopped, the silence more eerie than the prospect of undetected eyes watching you through limbs and weeds.

As the seconds stretched on, Dean’s hands began to sag. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, however, the air around them began to shimmer and bubble. Seeming to grow from thin air, three short creatures appeared - their noses long with small white tufts of hair protruding from their ears, their small beady eyes bored into Sam’s as though they could read the thoughts in his head as if from the pages of a book. The tallest creature cleared his throat and began speaking in a surprisingly low voice.

“Who are you, human, that you would enter our realm and summon us as you please?” The two smaller creatures, flanking this one on each side gripped their spears tightly, their grey skinned lips stretched menacingly across their jagged teeth as they glared up at Sam.

“My name is Sam and this is my brother, Dean and our friend, y/n. We only want to talk.”

“Yeah,” Dean piped up, smirking. “We come in peace.” Sam and y/n shot him matching looks of annoyance and his face fell. The Pukwudgie surveyed them for a moment.

“Proceed.”

-----

“Ok...explain to me again why we aren't killing the little grey wedgie men?” Dean frowned at Sam and Y/n’s backs as they replaced their unnecessary weapons into the trunk.

“Well, I’d read somewhere that giving a Pukwudgie a gift ingratiates them to you. I figured it was worth a shot.” Sam slammed the trunk before continuing. “They are now bound to honor our request to leave people alone. There's no telling how many of them are actually in the forest; seemed like the easiest approach.”

“I can’t believe that worked!” y/n exclaimed, untangling a twig from her hair and wiping her hands on her jeans.

“I can’t believe you asked to have your picture taken with him!” Dean frowned as he fiddled mindlessly with his keys and glanced back at the entrance to the forest. “Someone care to explain what the hell that was all about?”

“That sigil though, y/n,” Sam seemed unable to hear his brother. “That was artfully done. Where'd you pick that up?”

“It was kind of a combination of few traditions, I don't know if it had much effect, really....”

Dean cut her off, his tone more forceful that necessary. “If one of you doesn't tell me what the hell this whole damn trip has really been about, I’m leaving your asses here in the damn haunted forest with ol’ Red-Eyes back there in the fancy dress.” He glared at Sam and Y/n through narrowed eyes.

“Y/n is a Pukwudgie, Dean.” Sam sighed as y/n chewed on her bottom lip to stifle the grin on her face.

“I swear to god, Sammy…”

“I had to get a picture with my house mascot, and I get double points if it's the Ilvermorny house.” Y/n’s face lit up as she spoke, but Dean continued to look at her sourly.

“In English, please?”

“Well it's double points because the American house mascots are far more rare than the houses at Hogwarts...”

“Hogwarts?” Dean interrupted in a manner that was too calm. “As in Harry Potter?”

Sam looked at Dean, his mouth slightly agape and nodded.

“See we are part of this online scavenger hunt, and our team is called The Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and we get points when we…”

Dean raised his hand, silencing y/n.

“Harry-freaking-Potter. That son of a bitch is ruining my life. I friggin’ hate witches.”

“Actually, he’s a wizard, Dean. See, women are…”

Dean opened the door and slid into the front seat, jamming the key in the ignition before y/n could finish her sentence. Sam and y/n traded uncomfortable glances over the hood of the Impala.

“Are you coming, or not? I’ve got five hours worth of magic fingers left before we have to check out and I don't want to waste ‘em.” The doors squeaked as they opened them and took their places in the backseat. “Alright, Dumble-dorks. Let's roll.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love ya’ll - stay weird!):

@wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @that-writer-one @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @deansdirtyduchess @fandomismyspiritanimal @angelsandwinchesters @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104 @9769997118 @mogaruke @luulaachops @supernaturaldean67  @barbedwireandbubblegum @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @muliermalefici @galaxy-jellyfish-queen @canadianjelly @kathaswings @almusanzug @feelmyroarrrr @captainradicalpassion @bethbabybaby @thinkwritexpress-official @akshi8278 @hexparker @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @atc74 @anticipate1003 @super100012 @lovesj2m  @easelweasel @masksandtruths @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

Pond Tags (Sam + Fluff): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @idreamofhazel @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bohowitch  @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @teamfreewill92 @writingbeautifulmen

#sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge #Sam Fluff #Sam x Reader #Sam Winchester x Reader #Sam Winchester #SPN Fanfic #SPN Fanfiction #SPN Fanfic Pond #guppy fic #Panda Writes #dean winchester #i lost my queue

[sisterhoodofsam]

SOS Rejects of Supernatural Challenge Masterlist

Hello Sisters!!! We loved running our Rejects of Supernatural Challenge, and reading all the great fics you wrote for it. So, here, we have complied all the entries into one masterlist, for you all to enjoy at your leisure. 

Thanks to all of those who participated!!!

Anteros Heartbreaker - @sammit-janet

Aswang  Damn Monsters - @mrsbatesmotel53

Chupacabra Chupacabra Christmas - @number-one-supernatural-trash

Cockatrice A Rooster with some Serious Issues - @soopranatural The Shrieker Contract - @oneshoeshort

Dryad Bitch of the Trees - @growningupgeek

Jikiniki Don’t Fear Me - @iputthesininbuisness

The Grey Man Curse of Shadows - @barbedwireandbubblegum Overprotective - @deansleather

Pukwudgie Dumble-dorks - @pinknerdpanda

(this list will be updated should we get more submissions)

#sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge

[soopranatural]

A rooster with some serious issues

Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader have to kill something they can't look at.

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: idk, the usual? If you're afraid of chicken don't read

Words: 2796

A/N: This was written for the Rejects of Supernatural Challenge, hosted by @sisterhoodofsam​ (I took so long to write it because I thought it had to be posted on the 10th oops)

Marsterlist

Mobile Masterlist

(I’m sorry I spent like five minutes laughing, I find this dude hilarious, just look at this scary chicken hahaha)

Your name: submit What is this?

"I think I found something" you raised your head from the book you were reading and sighed. So much for finally having a relaxing weekend.

Dean looked up from cleaning the guns and shot you a forlorn look, you were both going to the diner to get some pie after the sun went down a bit and you knew that wouldn't be happening now.

"Do we have to?" You whined.

Sam turned his head to look at you in disbelief. "It's killed five people Y/N." You sighed and gestured vaguely with your hand for him to continue, you still pouted though.

"So, it says here that these people have all died of heart failure, probably died instantly" Dean leaned back in his chair and turned to look at Sam directly.

"What's so weird about that? A lot of people die of heart failure." Sam turned in his chair to look at Dean, gesturing with his hands like he did when he wanted someone to understand what he was saying. You hid your fond smile behind your hand. "Well yeah, but these people were of all ages, and heart failure is usually an old people thing" he turned back to his laptop and scanned the screen again "there was an old lady, but also a couple of middle aged people, someone in their late twenties and" he paused for a beat and his brow furrowed "a seventeen year old."

"Shit" Dean said quietly. "Yeah" Sam replied, nodding distantly. You were struck with a sudden urge to get up from the couch and go over to Sam and smooth out his frown. You coughed and both men looked at you.

"Anything else we need to know about the case? Do we know what did it?" Sam clicked around a bit and read silently for a minute, his lips moving silently around the words. "Yeah, um, they all died at night and they all had their eyes open and glazed over. No other clues besides that but we can figure out what it is after we get there."

Dean's mouth quirked in a disgusted gesture "What kind of article writes that?" Sam shrugged.

"Well" you started, closing your book "I say it seems weird  enough for us, when do we head out?"

"We can pack and go now, and question people when we get there in the morning, maybe take tuns sleeping in the car?" Sam looked at both of you in turn.

"It's your call, I'm the one who actually fits in the back seat" you stood up and stretched, your back popped into place and you sighed in pleasure.

"I thought we were getting pie." Dean murmured and you laughed "we can stop by the diner and eat it on the way there" you replied and Dean grunted.

He still got up and started packing his things, grumbling the whole time.

The drive there was like it always was. Sam drove first while you and Dean ate pie. You talked and laughed at old hunting stories. You and Dean sang loudly and off key to Dean's music. Sam told you to stop. You sang louder. Sam finally gave in and sang with you.

When it got late you slept in the backseat for an hour and then changed seats so Sam could sleep and Dean could drive. After two hours they changed places and Sam drove again while Dean slept. You didn't drive the car, you didn't take it personally. You knew Dean trusted you, but not that much.

When you got to town you were all groggy and tired. You stretched out and waited with Sam while Dean booked you a room.

"I was thinking we should all freshen up and go have breakfast at that place we saw earlier, start the questioning right after" you nodded at his suggestion. You could use a shower, and breakfast. You also needed to pee. Why was Dean taking so long?

Right then Dean came running and opened the trunk to get your stuff out. "I call first shower" you said as soon as he handed you your bag "I stink."

"Well I smell like roses" Dean teased, opening his arms for a hug. You made an exaggerated gagging sound and then squealed with laughter when he started chasing you.

"You guys are imposible" Sam sighed when you finally calmed down. You were still panting and giddy. Sam placed a hand on the small of your back to lead you forward into the room and you instantly tensed, going serious. You cleared your throat and frowned at Dean when he shot you a knowing look.

You got to the diner a little before nine, you had decided to take your badges in case something happened but wore normal clothes. The diner was full of people having breakfast or drinking coffee. In a small town like this it was probably where everyone ate.

You sat down on a table with four chairs and set up your laptops. A waitress came briefly and you all looked up from what you were doing. Sam was looking for more clues on other articles and you were crossing out monsters that couldn't be responsible for this case. You were writing in the journal as well.

"What can I get y'all today" she was young and pretty and blonde, she had big eyes and a doe eyed look. You nudged Dean and winked at him, this was his area of expertise. He smiled up at the waitress and you hid your laughter under your hand when he talked in his panty dropper voice.

"Um we'll have three black coffees and three house breakfasts, two with pancakes and one with waffles" you raised your eyebrows, impressed, when the girl just nodded and asked if you wanted anything else, seemingly immune to Dean's charm. "That'd be all, thank you sweetheart."

"Yeah, of course" she stuttered, flushing beet red and turning to walk away hurriedly. You giggled under your palm. Bingo.

"I knew I'd break her" said Dean when he turned back to you. You elbowed him softly and Sam rolled his eyes.

When the waitress returned with your orders she looked at you curiously as you moved your things aside and she placed your food in front of you.

"So, what brings y'all here, we don't get many visitors in a small town like this"

"We're actually here on a job" Dean took out his badge and you and Sam did the same "I'm agent Williams and these are my colleagues agents Barnes and Porter"

The girl's eyes widened and she looked at you in surprise. "I thought you'd be wearing suits" she said finally.

"We're just here to have breakfast" Dean smiled "but if you know anything about the deaths that have been going on we appreciate you telling us."

The girl looked at you all again and then scratched her arm contemplatively. "Um I guess, I don't know much about it, but I know they all got killed outside the Rogers' barn, lotta folks go there to look at the stars or have a smoke, but not so much now. Horrible stuff, what happened to all of 'em."

"That's all you know?" She nodded, paused, and then shook her head. "Well, it's silly" she looked up for a moment and then back down. "Try us" you said, speaking to her for the first time. "I live near the barn. And I've heard a rooster crow every time someone's died." She looked at you again "The barn's empty."

Back at the motel you got back to work immediately, several books were open on the desk and you were all searching for stuff about roosters in omens and stuff like that. So far you were having little luck. Roosters usually meant good stuff, and that was not what you were looking for.

"I think I found something" Sam said suddenly and you all looked up to him. "All I found about roosters was stuff about new beginnings and chasing away bad spirits" you nodded, you had found the same. "So I went with the sudden death and open eyes thing. At first I thought maybe a basilisk."

"Like the one in Harry Potter?" You asked, that made sense.

"Nerd" teased Dean and you stuck out your tongue at him.

"Yes" replied Sam, rolling his eyes "but the rooster crowing didn't fit in anywhere, so I searched those two together and I think I know what we're hunting" he read over the screen again and looked at you "it's called a cockatrice."

"Sounds like a dick" Dean said bluntly. You burst out laughing and soon Dean joined in. Sam rolled his eyes again and you worried they would stay stuck in the back of his head because of how many times he did that lately.

"Real funny Dean"

"Not to get cocky..." you giggle- snorted as he paused for the doble meaning to his words to kick in and Sam huffed, amused. "But how hard..." another pause "can it be to kill a rooster- monster?"

Pretty hard, as it turns out. The only way to kill it was to have it look at itself in a mirror or for it to hear a rooster crow. And you couldn't let it look you in the eye or even let it breathe on you. Because if it did you would die.

You also had to look around for yolk-less eggs that had been incubated by a toad, apparently, and then toss them over the barn. This had to be the weirdest case you had been on.

When you got to the barn you could see why it would be a common hangout spot. It looked old but well taken care of. There was a picnic table right in front of it and a tall window which probably meant it had a second floor inside.

It was dark, and you came armed with guns that you knew would be useless and a bunch off different sized mirrors. You also had a recording of a rooster crowing in your phones but you doubted that would work.

You knew the cockatrice could be here already so you had to be careful. The door was open which was a good thing, but the hinges creaked and groaned horribly when you opened them. You waited for a minute in complete silence before going in.

With the mirrors in front of you and your eyes pointing to the ground you went inside, walking quietly and hiding behind a stack of hay.

"Now we wait?" You whispered and Sam nodded. You waited for maybe ten minutes before you heard something. There was a rustling sound and you peeked over the hay just in time to see something that you thought was another haystack covered by a blanket move and slowly rise.

You watched with wide eyes as it slowly grew in size. It had a long spiky tail, scaly gray skin and impressive long wings that looked like they belonged on a dragon. It stretched it's wings and then fluttered them down back to it's sides. Small strands of hay and dust flew around it and then settled back down. You could see small black feathers, shiny like a raven's, starting from it's back and then growing towards the head, where they turned longer and closer together. It was about to turn around when you felt someone grab the back of your shirt and yank you back down.

"What are you doing?!" Hissed Sam into your ear. You shook your head, you had almost been killed, you felt shaky and your heart was pounding in your ears, that thing was bigger than you had anticipated.

"...we spread out and then I play the recording. If that doesn't work it'll be angry. So we need to be careful and fast. Keep your mirrors close. Got it?" You run Dean's plan again in your head and nod. Shaking out your arms to release tension and concentrate, you prepare to run to the other side of the barn.

Dean creeps to the wall, staying hidden in the shadows. He walks slowly and silently towards the stairs, creeping up them carefully. You keep your eyes on him. You can still hear the cockatrice scuffling around and scratching the floor. You hold your breath, hoping the steps won't creek.

Dean gets to the top with no problem and shoots you a thumbs up. You smile, relieved. "On three" whispers Sam, and you shiver at the feeling of his breath against your neck. "One, two" he signals Dean "three."

You immediately spring into a full speed run at the same time as a horribly loud rooster crow echoes inside the barn. It doesn't work.

The cockatrice screeches behind you, it's the loudest, most terrifying thing you have ever heard. And you jump in surprise. You had hoped it would die.

You curse when you trip over a pebble lying on the floor. The mirror falls to the ground and shatters loudly.

Your heart is beating frantically with sudden adrenaline and your hands grow clammy. You can hear it behind you and you know if it catches up you're dead.

You duck behind an old tractor, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath to center yourself. You look under it and you see the mirror in front of you, only a few feet away. The cockatrice is pacing on the other side. It's waiting for you, you realize with a shudder.

Your hands shake and you gulp when you realize what you're going to have to do. You take another deep breath and roll your shoulders.

You count the seconds until the cockatrice turns around, finding a pattern to it's pacing. You wait until it turns around.

Crap. Here goes nothing.

You jump and roll under the tractor. Jumping towards the mirror as soon as you're on the other side. The cockatrice screeches again.

You grab the mirror and roll onto your back, pointing it upwards and squeezing your eyes shut. Praying it works.

Your scream of terror is cut short with a choked sound when the cockatrice falls on top of you with all it's weight. You feel your ribs crunch.

"Y/N?!" You hear someone yell.

You're still seeing stars but you can hear heavy steps hurriedly approaching you.

"Well that sucked" you groan and you hear a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god" you hear Sam sigh. "Dean come help me with this."

They both lift it from you and you grunt in pain when it finally rolls off you. Sam helps you up and pulls you into a tight hug. "You scared me" he whispers.

He places a gentle hand on your cheek and before you have time to react his lips are on yours. Your eyes are wide with surprise and your heart starts pounding again.

He pulls away before you can kiss back, his eyes are wide as well. "Shit" he whispers.

A low whistle from Dean startles you, you had forgotten he was there. "I'm just gonna wait outside" he jerks his thumb in the direction of the door and leaves awkwardly.

"Shit" says Sam again, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry Y/N, I don't know what came over me" Oh, that hurts a little bit, you had almost dared to hope... "The truth is I've liked you for some time" what? "But I know how you feel about Dean and I respect that, so I'll back off, I'm sorry" Dean? What the hell?

"Dean?" You ask, your voice higher than normal "why Dean?" Sam shrugs and looks down. And oh that's just plain unfair, grown men shouldn't be this adorable. "Dean's just my.." you scrunch up your face "ew, no, just no."

Sam looks up again, almost hopefully, and you really want to kiss him again. "Plus, I like you" you say, smiling shyly.

He looks at you in surprise, beaming. You laugh softly and walk closer to him, stand on your tippy toes and kiss him on the mouth. He smiles into the kiss and deepens it. Oh, you're in heaven.

"You done making out yet?" Dean yells into the barn. Sam huffs and you give him one last peck on the lips. "Yeah" you call out.

Dean comes up to you, smirking that insufferable knowing smirk. He pats Sam on the back and whispers something at him that has Sam pushing him away and Dean laughing loudly.

You all move to stand around the unmoving cockatrice, grimacing. It's very big, and very heavy, and very dead. Dean huffs.

"Man, I was hoping it would disintegrate or somethin', do you guys feel like chicken soup?"

Remember to leave feedback!! (Hearing what you think about it helps me improve and also makes me super happy)

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#sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge #a thing that I wrote #a rooster with some serious issues #cockatrice #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #spn #spn writings #spn x reader #supernatural one shot #spn oneshot #spn reader insert #reader inserts #this was fun to write

[growningupgeek]

Bitch of the Trees

Word Count-3,293(It might have gotten away from me just a little)

Characters-Sam, Dean, Elaina(OC), Crowley

Warnings-implied smut, runaway Moose, drinking, Crowley being Crowley.

Prompt-Dryads

A/N-This one is for @sisterhoodofsam Rejects of Supernatural challenge.  There was a surprising lack of lore to be found on the subject of dryads, so I took what I found, made some up and borrowed a couple of things from David Eddings.  Hey, you do what you have too.  Title is taken from a bit I did find online that dryads were know as the “ladies of the trees.”

Tags under the cut, as always if you want on or off drop me a message or an ask.

-JediCat

       Sam cleared his throat to get my attention. “I think I found us a case, Laine”

        “Really,” I asked. “Or is it a thin lead that will get us away from gimpy?”

        Sam rubbed the back of his neck and gave a lopsided smile. “A little of both.”

        “I heard that, bitch,” Dean called from his bedroom.  He’d dislocated his knee about a week before while he’d been chasing a werewolf and stepped in a hole.  He could walk again but wasn’t up to a hunt quite yet and he was getting restless.  At this point Sam and I just need to get away from him.

        “Jerk,” Sam called back to him by reflex.

        I leaned over his shoulder and looked at the screen. “So what have you got?”

        It seemed like a whole lot of nothing at first, until I noticed the pattern.  A man would disappear without a trace in the woods near a little town named Fredrick. His body would turn up a few weeks later with no trace of foul play just after another disappearance.  For close to four years it had been going on through the spring, summer and early fall only to stop in the winter.  Definitely our kind of thing but it was like nothing either of us had ever heard of.  Sam’s eyes met mine and I nodded.

        “Let’s go pack,” he said as I was already heading for our room.

        As we were putting clothes in our duffel bags I could hear Dean’s limping steps coming down the hall from his room.  I braced myself, knowing what was coming next.  And I was right.

        “I’m coming with you.” Dean said.  It was probably meant to sound firm, but given that he was white with pain and leaning against the doorframe, it just sounded like a little boy demanding to not be left behind.

        Without turning from packing Fed suits I replied, “Sure.  If you can walk to your room and back here without the knee brace and still stand up.”

        I heard Sam snicker under Dean’s groan, “Oh, come on-”

        “You aren’t at 100%,” I scolded him, turning around.  “What if something goes wrong and someone gets hurt because you couldn’t move fast enough?’

        Dean’s face fell. “But I can stay…”

        I shook my head. “Don’t say you’ll stay in the room.  I’d believe Crowley before I’d believe that.”

        I walked over and put my hand on his forearm.  “Dean, you’re white and sweating so don’t even try to tell me that you aren’t hurting.  Sam and I can take care of ourselves, just this once.”

        I watched the emotions play across Dean’s face, until he finally came to the conclusion he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way onto this trip.  He turned away and headed for his room growling, “Fine, but you guys had better check in every night.”

        “Yes, mother,” Sam laughed as I turned back packing.  We finished up quickly and headed for the garage before Dean could come up with any more arguments as to why he should come with us.

        We were in the process of loading up my jeep when we heard Dean come into the garage.  Sam turned around and drew in a sharp breath that made me turn to see what was going on.  Dean was standing there with a determined look on his face, holding out the keys to Baby.  

        “Take her.” was all he said.

        Sam started to protest, “Dean,-

        “Don’t argue with me,” Dean snapped.  “The only way you’ll get me to stay here is if you take Baby.”

        It took me a second to understand but when I did I got choked up.  This was his way of protecting us if he couldn’t be there.  I touched Sam’s arm with one hand as I held out the other for the keys.  Dean dropped them in my hand and limped away without a backwards glance.  Sam gave me a puzzled look, but loaded the bags into Baby’s trunk while I climbed into the car.  Sam slid into the driver's seat, started the engine and the two of us were off.

        Sam stared at his computer screen; we’d been at this a week and we were no closer to finding an answer than we’d been when we’d left the bunker.  The local sheriff had been more than happy to turn the case over to us and the county coroner had given us the reports on the three victims from this year, all of whom had died of heart failure and malnutrition.  There was nothing else wrong with them; no signs of demons, sirens, poltergeists, ghosts or any of the hundreds of things that go bump in the night that we were familiar with.  I sighed as I put my laptop to sleep, attracting his attention.

        “What’s up, baby,” he asked.

        I ran my hand through my hair, “I’ve got eye strain, I’m tired of looking at that damn screen and I’m hungry. Let’s take an hour and grab some food.  That bar is supposed to have good food and if Dean asks we can say we were talking to the locals.”

        His face clouded a little and for a moment I thought he was going to squash the idea, but it seemed like he had enough research tonight too. “I think we can even spare two hours and have a drink.”

        I was out of my chair and had my jacket in my hand before he finished his sentence.  I could hear him laughing at me as I ran for the car.

        It was a typical small town dive bar, decorated in neon with a jukebox that had a playlist from the last century.  There was a small dance floor over in the corner with one side raised to form a small stage for a live band or DJ booth.  In our flannels, jeans and leather jackets we fit right in and it didn’t take the locals long to forget we were supposed to be Feds.  One guy even got up the nerve to approach me while Sam was up at the bar getting us some refills.  He was nice enough and I got a little information out of him about the latest disappearance before Sam came back and chased him away with a scowl.  I hid my smile behind my drink, watching the man scurry away.

        “You didn’t have to scare the poor guy to death,” I said giving Sam a smile.

        He mock growled at me, “He was making a move on my partner.”

        I leaned over and kissed his cheek, running my hand up his thigh under the table. “You know you’ve got nothing to worry about, love.”  

        His arm snaked around my waist as I cuddled a little closer to him and he kissed my temple.  We sat like that, people watching and drinking our beer for about half an hour, and that’s when she came in.  I noticed her as soon as she came through the door because she was dressed way too high end for this bar and that set off my warning bells.  She was wearing a brown dress that looked like it was silk with matching heels.  Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head and seemed to have a slight green tint to it; leaf green eyes were highlighted by Egyptian style make-up.  The way she moved towards the bar could only be described as slinking. She placed her drink order with the bartender, who made a face as I nudged Sam and pointed with my chin.  

He eyed her and I saw the same suspicion form in his eyes that I had.  I reached for the empty glasses.  “My round.”

His nod had a double meaning and I headed to the bar finding an empty space next to the woman.  The bartender set her drink in front of her and at the slight shake of my head turned to take an order from another customer.  I gave an exaggerated sigh that caused her to look at me with no little curiosity.  

“Perils of being an outsider,” I said with a half-smile.  She returned the smile sympathetically.

“I know how you feel,” she replied.  “I’ve lived here forever and still feel like an outsider.”

Her voice had a slight accent that I couldn’t quite place so I turned on my phone's voice recorder under the guise of checking my messages.  “They always serve the locals first and then the outsiders.”

She nodded and took a sip of her drink. “So are you here on vacation?”

“Mixed with a little business,” I not quite lied. “We own a curio shop so we’re always on the lookout for things we can make a profit on.”

She nodded politely and put out her hand, “I’m Xelina.”

“Elaina Simmons,” I replied shaking her hand firmly.

The bartender returned and took the beer glasses to be refilled, quickly placing them in front of me.  I nodded to Xelina and returned to Sam.  Under the guise of kissing his cheek, I whispered what little I’d learned into his ear.  Instead of replying he kissed my jaw, nipping just enough to leave a pleasant sting behind.  It didn’t take us long to finish off our beer and leave the bar; Sam’s arm around my shoulders, mine around his waist heading for the car.  Before he went around to the driver’s side he pushed me against the car, took my face in his hands and kissed me.

I leaned into it, getting my hands up into his soft hair and pulling myself up closer to him, brushing my tongue against his lips.  Sam’s mouth opened with a soft moan as he let me in for just a minute before pulling back.  “Let’s take this back to the room.”

I nodded, too breathless to speak, and got into the car.  When he got in I slid across the seat so I could be as close to him as possible while he was driving. He looped his arm around me, untucking my shirt and sliding his hand under the fabric.  His fingers absently made lazy circles on my skin leaving goosebumps and sending heat straight to my core.  I began running my hand up his thigh reveling in the feel of his muscles under his jeans, not stopping until my hand rested on the bulge of his cock.  Softly I moved my hand along the bulge putting just enough pressure on it to tease him.

Sam growled low in his chest and his fingers changed their pattern from circles to sliding across my stomach underneath the waistband of my jeans.  With each pass his hand went a little lower until he could unfasten the button with his thumb.  I moaned softly his fingers slid under the elastic of my panties and began to tease my lower lips.  He echoed my moan as he felt how wet I was already.

Thankfully it was a short trip back to the motel because we’d have had to pull over.  As it was Sam barely let me get the door closed before he was pressed up against my back.  “You are so going to pay for teasing me on the way here.”

Morning sun through the window blinds woke me to a body that ached in the best way possible. Sam was curled against my back snoring softly one arm around my waist.  After a few minutes of gentle wiggling I managed to get out of his grasp without waking him up.  I stopped for a minute to stare at Sam.  Asleep and relaxed he looked ten years younger, though the scars on him told a different story.  Part of me wanted to crawl back into bed with him, but there was work to do.  I started the coffee pot and headed for the shower to get cleaned up and do some thinking.  As much as I’d enjoyed last night something felt off and I wouldn’t relax until I found some answers.

I let the hot water run over me as I let my mind drift where it would.  I went through every memory of the night before with an eye to the details until it hit me.  The only thing that had been different last night had been Xelina and some things about her tickled some very old memories of Grandma and her stories of the creatures that shared the world with us.  I dried off and grabbed a cup of coffee on my way to my laptop, if I was right we might need to call in some reinforcements.  Sam wasn’t in bed when I came out of the bathroom, I assumed that he was out for his morning run and went to work.  The first thing I did was send off emails to family and friends still involved with the more gentle side of the supernatural world, then I buried myself in the internet.  

A dozen emails, three phone calls and a pot of coffee later, I had my answers.  We were dealing with a dryad and one that was relativity young.  Judging from the size of the trees in the area she could be upwards of a hundred years old, but look no older than twenty-five or thirty. I also learned that by killing her conquests she was breaking an ancient pact with the white witches.  I looked around only to realize that Sam still wasn’t back and a glance at the clock on my computer made my heart freeze.  Two hours had passed; even Sam couldn’t run that long which could only mean that he had been called to her.  I couldn’t call Dean; even if he could get here in time I’d just put him in danger and Cas still didn’t have his full mojo back so I didn’t know if she could affect him or not.  That left me with one choice; it wasn’t one I was very happy with, but I was going to need help and Crowley was the only one who could get here fast enough.  

He answered his phone on the third ring, “What can I do for you, Lark?”

“I need your help,” I managed to get out. “I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

“Now why would you want to do that, darling,” he said from behind me.

Quickly I outlined my theories. “You’re my only option at this point.  You owe me for helping with the rogue angel that came after you last year. You wouldn’t want word to get out that you had to call a human, and a hunter at that, in for help would you?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, then narrowed them. “And what would Moose and Squirrel say if they knew you helped me?”

I had known that this would be his hole card.  I gave him my best smirk. “What makes you think I didn’t tell them?”

Another eye roll as he sighed, “You tell that Moose everything don’t you?  I guess I’m in, but this clears my debt to you.”

“Until the next time you need a hunter for something, Gramps,” I said, knowing how much it would annoy him to be reminded that I was the only hunter he could completely trust.  

I gave him a quick rundown of my plan and he agreed that it might work, if Sam had his phone with him and it didn’t have a dead battery.  The luck goddess was with me because when I tracked his phone down it was working.  I quickly transferred the location to my mapping app, because it was deep in the woods.  After a quick stop at the gas station Crowley and I were off.

We followed signal from Sam’s phone deep into the woods surrounding the town.  It took nearly an hour to walk from the road to the coordinates from Sam’s phone.  If I hadn’t been so worried about him I might have enjoyed the hike, Crowley was clearly not happy with it though.   I could hear him behind me muttering about his suit and shoes, like he couldn’t fix them with a snap of his fingers.

The forest finally opened onto a glade surrounded by oak trees and what I saw there almost broke my heart.  Sam was leaning against one of the trees with Xelina in his lap and a goofy smile on his face.  As I watched she leaned over and kissed him that was the straw that snapped my temper.  I pulled my gun and fired a round into the tree behind them, well above their heads.  Two sets of eyes turned my way; Sam’s fogged with the spell she’d cast on him, Xelina’s full of malice. She got off of Sam and started towards me and I wasn’t waiting to see what she intended on doing.  I reached into my shoulder bag, pulled out the king size Hershey bar I’d bought and tossed it at her.  She caught it when it hit her square in the chest, her whole face lighting up when she saw what it was.  Greedily, she tore through the wrapper and took a bite of the chocolate, chewing it with a look of bliss on her face.  

I kept one eye on her and the other on Sam; I could gauge the effects of the chocolate on her system.  When he had some sense back in his eyes, I crept around Xelina and made my way to him praying that he was recovering quicker than it looked like.

I finally reached him and put my hand on his shoulder, whispering his name.  When he turned to me I could see he was still a little foggy but fighting it.  He reached for me and I grabbed his hand with a reassuring squeeze.

“Can you stand,” I asked in an urgent tone.

When he gave me a tentative nod, I draped his arm around my shoulder and helped him up.  Sam wobbled like a newborn baby moose and leaned most of his weight on me so I was basically carrying him.  We struggled along but hadn’t gotten more than a few yards when a wall of branches sprang up in front of us.

“Naughty, naughty, little girl,” Xelina giggled.  “Trying to steal my new toy.”

I shot her the dirtiest look I could muster up. “Sorry, he’s spoken for.  And I’d rather not have him broken like your other toys.”

She meandered over to us, not even able to walk a straight line at this point.  As Xelina’s control of herself slipped so did her hold over Sam who was carrying more of his own weight now.  He glanced down on me with questions in his eyes.

“Dryad,” I said softly, hoping she wouldn’t hear me. “Chocolate acts like booze on them.”

Xelina giggled, “Smart too, girly, you figured me out.”

“It’s not hard with my connections,” I smirked at her.  “You broke your people’s pact with the Mason Clan, Xelina.  I claim my rights as the injured party.”

I pushed Sam to the ground, probably the only time that it would ever be easy, and shouted, “Now, Crowley!”

Crowley appeared near the tree that Sam had been leaning against and snapped his fingers.  The tree exploded in a shower of splinters as Xelina vanished in a flash of flame and a puff of pollen that left Sam and I both coughing.

Crowley strolled over as we got our breath back. “Now that you have your Moose back, I trust this discharges my debt to you, Lark?”

I waved him off. “Yeah and we’re just fine, thanks for asking.”

With that he vanished leaving behind a slight smell of sulphur.

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#sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge #dryads #sam winchester #elaina mason #dean winchester #crowley #sam x oc #sam x elaina #bitch of the trees

[deansleather]

Overprotective

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Prompt(s): “What happened doesn’t change anything” for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing hiatus challenge week 10, The Grey Man for @sisterhoodofsam Monster Rejects 

Summary: All you want is to help Sam and Dean with hunts; this is the last thing in the world that Sam wants. You become determined to prove your capability, but sometimes the middle ground is the best place to be, especially when you love somebody. 

If you’d like to join any of my tag lists please message/ ask or add yourself to my google doc tag list! Whatever is easiest for you!

Word Count: 3688

Warnings: injury, blood, a lot of hunting, I tried my hand at a scarier type of writing in parts

A/N:  Kind of a new style (ish), just trying out scary. Please let me know what you think, because FEEDBACK IS LOVED AND NEEDED!!

“Every man I meet wants to protect me. I can't figure out what from.” ― Mae West 

           Sam and you filled the silence only with the clanks of your forks touching plates. Dean had gone out for a drink earlier, and you were too heated to cook, especially not while Sam continued to stew over their current case. Takeout food seemed like the easiest option, except it took away all the simpler ice-breakers. “Dinner tastes great tonight, honey” is a whole hell of a lot easier than “You’re not hunting with us no matter how much you pout.” Sam cleared his throat.

           “Thanks for grabbing take out, Y/n/n,” he said. You nodded curtly.

           “Mhm,” you answered. “Good thing I’m strong enough to do that on my own, right?”

           He rolled his eyes, continuing the dinner into an ever more uncomfortable silence. You were dating a hunter for God’s sake, how did he expect this conversation not to come up? Of course you would want to help. He sat over books for hours, mulling and taking notes as he collected dust along with the rest of their library, leaving you alone in bed. He’d be gone for days, while you were stuck at home worrying. He and Dean were practically leaping in front of bullets to save each other without thought. Was it really all that crazy that you might want to help?

           You took your finished plates to the kitchen, sighing as you began to run the sink. You didn’t expect to become the bunker’s housewife, but you’d slowly morphed into the 50’s stereotype of a woman. Staying home, tidying up and looking after the house while Sam and Dean did all the real work. Screw that. You did your best to contain a growl as Sam wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You remained focused on the dishes.

           “Y/n,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Talk to me.”

           “I’ll talk to you all night, Samuel,” you said. “But you don’t like my conversation topic.”

           “Bringing out the full name? Ouch.” You could feel him smirk. You’d yet to find anything amusing. “Look, it’s not that I think you can’t hunt, I just-“

           “No, that’s exactly what it is.” You spun around, poking at his chest with a soapy finger. “For whatever reason, you think I’m some prissy princess who can’t fend for herself. May I remind you, we met after I saved myself from a vampire?” His mouth was slightly agape as he fought for the words to say.

           “Yes, I remember Y/n, the head on the floor and all. Why would you want that to be your everyday life?”

           “Because I chose to date a man who hunts monsters. I knew what I was signing up for Sam.”

           “Yes, the worry, the stress, the fear.” Sam’s voice raised slightly. “You’re already sacrificing so much just being around us, why add more pressure?”

           “I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I was out there helping you bozos instead of stuck here like your maid!” Sam sighed, his exasperation just irking you more.

“I’ve always offered to help with cleaning, I was the one who did it before you moved in.”

“That’s not why I’m mad and you know it,” you muttered, pushing past him. Just as you were about to leave the kitchen, he called out to you.

“I don’t care how long you’re mad, Y/n.” His voice grew stern, though he just looked exhausted. “You’re not hunting with us. Ever.”

You held back from cursing, continuing to stalk off to your room, locking the door behind you. Fine, you thought. If I can’t hunt with you, I guess I’ll just do it myself.

~~~

           You rubbed your eyes, your hands tight on the wheel as you tried to fight your sleepiness. Exhaustion made you lose nearly all your speed, reflexes, and even some of your intelligence. It wasn’t the best state to be driving in, especially at night, but you were too close to the bunker to grab a hotel room for the night. After your fight with Sam, you became determined to find your own case and solve it by yourself, but that turned out to be quite difficult with them constantly on the lookout for cases, not to mention you shared a room with Sam. It was beyond frustrating, you felt like a grounded teen, stuck in the house all day. Today, you just couldn’t take it anymore, going out in the early morning and driving all day, leaving nothing but a note for Sam and then turning your phone off. It felt good to just drive, stopping only when you were hungry or there was something you wanted to see, but after a full day of it, your butt and legs were practically screaming at you.

           It was a straight shot, just continue down the back road and you’d eventually merge onto the gravel that led to the bunker. You could probably close your eyes right then and there just so long as you kept the wheel straight. Even with as good of a day as you had, a sense of unease crawled up your spine, the back of your neck feeling as though needles were pricking near your hairline. You turned on the car’s brights, keeping an intense eye on the world around your car. Something wasn’t right.

           Your hands held so tight to the wheel you were afraid you might break it, a cold sweat breaking on your forehead. What the hell was happening? Your breathing became labored as your chest collapsed in on itself, or at least it felt like. A panic attack had struck you, seemingly out of nowhere. As you continued down the road, your head lights did little to break through the thick fog. You couldn’t see at all, your only indication you were going the right way the gravel crunching beneath the weight of your car. The panic attack subsided, but the air of stress remained, your whole body hot with dread.

           Multiple things happened at once; all so fast you could hardly see any of it. You had cracked the window, just for the hope of some cool air. Just as you did, the fog began to enter the car, looking thicker than you’d remembered fog to. It stifled your breathing, and just as you were about to close the window, a dark cloaked figure emerged from the fog, standing mere feet away from the front of your car. Your instincts finally kicked in, and you quickly turned out of the way, the fog pushing you even harder in the direction. You were confused by the assistance until you saw what lied ahead; a large, impenetrable oak. As quick as your stressed body could, you slammed on the breaks, closing your eyes for what you hoped to be a gentle crash.

           Opening one eye at first, you took in what you could of your surroundings. No crash, no demonic being standing above you, everything was for the most part intact. With a deep breath, you backed away the from the forest, tearing ass to get home.

           You were freaked out when you finally parked in front of the bunker’s door but did your best to push it down. The boys were occupied with looking into some vamp case down south, there was no talk of a mysterious figure that fucked with you in the fog. There was no way you imagined it, no matter how exhausted you were, and you’re mind kept replaying the night over and over. You had just found your first solo case.

~~~

           Things were relatively quiet for a while after the incident. Truth be told, you didn’t even know where to begin with research, the bunker’s library so vast and seemingly unorganized. You figured there probably was some method to the chaos, Sam got around pretty easy, but you just couldn’t seem to pin it down. Besides, you really didn’t want to raise suspicions, and lugging around hundred-pound books definitely would. So, until you could figure out a better angle, you went along with your normal business.

           Even with dropping it for a bit, your mind was still consumed, making you a little airier to those around you. Sam was worried, but mostly just glad you were talking to him again. Dean was oblivious to your drama as per usual, too caught up in his own mental state to worry about much else around him. You tried to find joy in your usual passions; reading, TV, sleeping. None of it worked, the dark figure from that foggy night haunted your every thought.

           The boys eventually gathered up enough data to go hunt the vamps, their packing making you both anxious and eager. Finally, you were getting the chance to solve a case on your own, prove to both yourself and the boys that you were more than capable, but fear seemed to trickle slowly into your mind. What if you couldn’t handle it? If you died, you knew that both Sam and Dean would surely feel to blame, holding that guilt until their last breath. Were you just being silly, rebelling against the perfectly comfortable status quo? The thoughts seemed to swallow you whole, but the brothers were off before you could change your mind, a sweet kiss from Sam as your hopefully temporary goodbye.

           It was only a couple days since they’d left, but you already felt like you were going insane. You were certain that Sam must have magic powers, as there was no way in hell that there was a rhyme or reason to the library. You were alone in the bunker, too scared to go outside without some solid lead on not only what you were hunting, but how to kill the bastard. After day four, you decided to consume your thoughts into another healthier passion; cooking.

           You opened the fridge with slight apprehension, for whatever reason. What, was the monster hiding in the veggie drawer? You knew better, but something did feel off. As you stood peering into the fridge, the most horrendous smell began emanating out, making you grimace and quickly slam it shut. Immediately, that sense of dread returned, just like the night of your almost wreck, crawling up and down your spine. You went into overdrive, doing everything you could think of to protect yourself. You grabbed out an iron knife and a flask of holy water, some salt from the cabinet, and a cross from the wall, hurrying to the couch. You quickly sprinkled a circle of salt all around it, hopping in with just seconds to spare. As you looked around, you saw the thick fog surrounding you, closing in ever so slowly. It was almost cruel, how slowly it was moving towards you, just stretching out the anticipation. Your breathing was labored, your head feeling light. You should’ve called the boys, but even at your lowest point, you couldn’t put down your stubborn ways.    

           You were about to bite the bullet and just call when you noticed the fog had stopped. Looking down, it paused at the circle of salt, wrapping around and searching for a crack. You sighed heavily, rubbing your face in relief.

           “Well,” you muttered to yourself. “Looks like I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

~~~

           Luckily, when you woke up the fog was gone, but that didn’t stop you from taking a few hours to leave the safety of the salt ring. Eventually, your stomach yelled at you to brave the kitchen. The smell from the night before remained, making you gag. As you peered into the fridge you noticed all perishables were moldy, even the freshest stuff. You scavenged the cabinets, and the only thing you could find that wasn’t decomposing before your eyes was a box of crackers. It would have to do.

           You ran to the bedroom, grabbing your laptop and some more practical, possible-hunt clothes, shamelessly returning to your hideout on the couch as fast as possible. You knew it wasn’t “professional” (was that even a thing when it came to hunting?) but you resorted to google. It wasn’t like you were getting very far with the bunker’s resources anyway.

           Nothing for fog monsters fit, neither for car accident monsters. You went through every possible wording of your situation and nada. With a jaded sigh, you attempted one last useless search; rotten food monster. It was laughable, but it was all you had left. Of course, nothing grand came up instantly, but you did look through some online food forums, just for the hell of it. You were ready to give up, but then you read the latest comment.

           The potato rot has been increasingly bad for me as well. It has been quite foggy in Ireland lately, perhaps I’ve got the Fear Liath after me!

           You read the line over and over. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Entering in the name she had used, you miraculously found some leads at last. The Fear Liath, or The Grey Man as he was more casually called, originated in Irish and Scottish folk lore. He was an omen, known for causing wrecks. It was all there; the rotting food, the foggy figure, the car crashes. You had finally found your monster. Now; how to kill the thing.

           It was considered a fairy, so the salt and iron knife were key, but not so much on the holy water. Still, you didn’t think you could exactly stab the thing, not without being able to see within the fog. There had to be a way. Fifteen pages into Google later, you finally found something.

           “The Grey Man was once considered a God until the surge of Christianity demoted him to fae. He is said to be bitter about it still, his wrath falling particularly hard on those with religious affiliation.” You were friends with an angel, after all. “If you feel The Grey Man is haunting you, get him off your back with a simple Christian prayer. The more iron crosses, the better.”

           It seemed way too simple, but what options did you have? With a deep breath, you emerged from your salt circle, grabbing the few iron crosses from the walls. You looked up the first prayer you could think of, holding your phone and the crosses in a death grip as you left the bunker. You hadn’t thought about how you’d get him to come back, but you didn’t have to worry long. The same panic washed over you once more, the fog moving in slowly towards you. You swallowed, seeing the outline of The Grey Man within. You held up the crosses, spitting out the prayer as fast as you could. The fog slowly dissipated as you did, but the figure still remained. Why were these damn prayers so long? You tripped over the words as he got closer and closer, the blood rushing to your head, making it difficult to even see the words on your phone. The closer he got, the more intense the panic became. Finally, you reached the end of the prayer.

           You looked up reluctantly, watching as the fog continued to dissipate into weak wisps, the figure within blending out as well. You heard a pained scream come from within the fog, so loud you covered your ears, taking a few steps back. With one more scream, the fog seemed to explode, completely dispersing. You took a few moments to breathe, watching for any other signs of him. As the panic subsided entirely, you felt sure that you had done it. First case down.

           You smiled to yourself, letting out a shocked laugh. You did it, all by yourself, on something as ambiguous as a fog monster. You felt on top of the world, dropping off the crosses and grabbing your keys from the bunker. You drove to a dive bar not far from the bunker, feeling the need for a celebratory drink. You usually left the drinking to Dean, but after the anxiety of the last few days, you felt you deserved it. You no more than parked when your phone began to ring. Sam. You answered in a cheerful tone, finding it difficult not to gloat right then and there.

           “Hey baby, what’s up?”

           “Y/n,” he said, his voice thick. Your eyebrows pulled together.

           “Are you crying? What’s going on?”  You revved your engine, tearing back onto the road without second thought. That was a no on the drink, you guessed.

           “There’s…there’s so many of them. They have Dean. I’ve called every hunter I can think of, no one’s picking up. Not even Cas.” It was the first time you’d ever heard Sam so scared; he hardly ever showed it when he was.

           “Send me the address,” you said. “I’m on my way.”

~~~

           You drove past some old building’s parking lot. While abandoned, there were plenty of cars parked. You continued on, parking on the side of the street where you saw the Impala. He had parked near a cornfield, the high stalks hiding both of you from any peering eyes. You hopped out the car, running into Sam’s arms as he leaned against the Impala.

           “Oh Y/n,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he nuzzled into your neck. “I’m so sorry I had to bring you into this.”

           “Stop it,” you said, pulling back slightly. You patted his cheek, looking him in the eyes. “I’d do anything for both of you. I’m glad you’re finally letting me help.” He swallowed, obviously not as glad as you. You grabbed the keys from his hand, opening up the trunk and grabbing two machetes. You handed one to him.

           “Let’s do this, shall we?” He nodded, leading the way towards the creepy building.

~~~

           You stood, hunched over, taking a moment to catch your breath. They were finally all dead, all the vamps wiped from existence. Somewhere amidst the chaos, you and Sam split up, which was a notoriously bad idea. You went through the rooms of the building tentatively, worried about a last-minute ambush. It seemed all the vamps were truly dead, because you were confronted by a copious amount of blood on the floor, and no one was on their knees with a straw. The only two people in the room were Sam and Dean, Sam only the floor, unconscious.

           “Sam!” You were by him in an instant, feeling his pulse and pushing the hair from his face. “C’mon baby, talk to me.” Unintelligible mumbles. You looked to Dean for guidance. You knew how to deal with killing vamps, researching, hunting, but you had no clue how to deal with this. Dean looked just as panicked, which did little to comfort. In a moment of clarity and pure adrenaline, you realized you needed to move, and quick.

           “Let’s carry him,” you demanded, standing and grabbing one of his arms. Dean followed suit, no questions asked. He looked pretty rough around the edges himself, but you could hardly think about anything but Sam.

           “We need to hurry,” Dean said, more to himself than anything. You nodded.

           “Yeah,” you replied. “Because I’m not losing him.”

           “You and me both, Y/n.”

~~~

           At long last, Sam’s eye fluttered open. Your heart sped, so thankful to see those pretty eyes again. You stood from your uncomfortable chair and moved to him, stroking his hair mindlessly. You hated hospitals with all your might, but you’d live there if it meant being with Sam.

           “Hi baby,” he coughed, his voice raspy. You shook your head.

           “Don’t strain yourself,” you said, stroking his cheek. “Just get better.” He nodded, letting his eyes rest again. You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the beeping from the machines around you becoming a comfortable lullaby. You held his hand, probably too tight, but you couldn’t let go. You just needed him, needed to know that he was okay.

           “What happened doesn’t change anything,” he rasped, finally breaking the silence.

           “What?”

           “I still don’t want you hunting.” You laughed humorlessly, shaking your head.

           “May I remind you, you’re the one in the hospital bed, not me? And that I’m the one who saved both your ass and Dean’s?”

           “I know,” he groaned. “And I know you’ll hold that over my head forever. But I won’t risk you being in my spot.”

           “You know, I solved a whole case on my own while you were gone,” you said, reveling in your own glory once more. You even shimmied a bit. The beeping on the monitor increased exponentially.

           “What?” His panic was evident, somehow making him look even paler. Suddenly, you didn’t feel as proud. With the look on Sam’s face…you almost felt ashamed. You weighed your options; that case was supposed to be your proving point, the evidence to show you could handle the life. With the condition that he was in and his constant doting over you, you were afraid the news might break him. You shook your head, faking a laugh.

           “I’m kidding, dufus.” He rolled his eyes, smiling in relief.

           “Good, because then I’d have to kill you, and I’d never be able to leave you alone again.” he joked, though there was a serious note to his voice. It was only partly a joke, and you both knew it.

           “Hmm, I don’t know. That sounds pretty nice to me. You know, minus the killing part, of course.”

           He scoffed, looking at your intertwined hands for a moment. His expression softened, his eyes glazing over slightly. He held them up.

           “You see this? Us?” he said. You nodded. “I don’t want to lose this. I can’t.” You sighed. A few days before, you would have debated with him to hell and back, but after seeing Sam in pain… you were tempted to stop him from hunting. You looked out the window, thinking. It couldn’t be dropped; you were dating a hunter, living in a hunter info hub, and friends with an angel. This life was your life now, whether Sam liked it or not. But then you thought back to those nights alone, how terrified and unsure you were. It definitely wasn’t as thrilling as you’d imagined.

           “Alright,” you murmured, looking him in the eyes. “I’ll make you a deal. We’ll take baby steps.”

           “Baby steps?” He raised an eyebrow, a subtle smirk forming on his lips. He always loved your little deals.

           “Yeah. You know, there’s no need to become a full-on hunter at once. I just ask that you let me tag along and help when I can.” You smiled, flitting your eyelashes at him. “Deal?” He groaned, but nodded.

           “How am I supposed to say no to that face?” You giggled, leaning down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw, both of you smiling into the kiss. “But I still might never leave you alone again. You know, just for…safe keeping.”

           “I’ll allow it,” you relented, lying beside him in the bed. You rested your hand on his chest, just thankful to still feel a beat. No matter what, you could never lose that.

~~~~~~~

It’s late so I’m adding Michelle’s and the Pond’s tags later

Forever and Sam Tags: 

@jarnesbrnes @spnashley @aprofoundbondwithdean @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysupernaturalfics @waywardlullabies @teamfreewill-imagine  @lucifer-in-leather @sunkissedsamantha @chaos-and-the-calm67 @purgatoan @stardustsam @secret-stashes @supernatural-jackles @winvhesters @nerdwholikesword @frenchybell @feelmyroarrrr @obsessedwithmisha @wanderingcas @diestiel @kittenofdoomage @fandommaniacx @trinityjadec @hanny-banannyyy  @nothingtoworryaboat @growningupgeek @d-s-winchester @mysteriouslyme81 @jensen-jarpad @deathtonormalcy56 @jpadjackles @mogaruke @satans666thdaughter @bobbysingerismybaby @keepcalmandcarryondean @thinkwritexpress-official @ruprecht0420 @My-Favorite-Fiction67 @deanjensengirlmaggie @bohowitch @captain-princess-rose @ophcelia @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wildfirewinchester @muliermalefici @beachy2014

#SPN HWC - WEEK 10 #SPN HIATUS WRITING CHALLENGE 2017 #sisterhood of sam challenge #sos rejects challenge #sam winchester #sam x reader #trashyfamilynet #mattcohenssspnfam #sinnerfam #octospnfam #astralisfam #princesscasfam #jenmishfam #ultravioletcasfam #stardustfam #mishacollinsappreciationnet

[number-one-supernatural-trash]

A Chupacabra Christmas

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2,135

Warnings: None that I could think of, but it hasn’t been beta’d.

Summary: The holiday are all fun and games until something sucks the life out of it.

Author’s Note: I’d love some feedback! I hope I did this challenge some justice. @sisterhoodofsam

The hunts are all the same, a monster we’ve heard of as a tale as a child but when one monster came up it was too close to home. But before this let’s start at the beginning.

“Good morning beautiful,” Sam rolls over and whispers into your ear while he wraps his arm around you.

“No,” you say as he tries wake you up.

“Come on we have to get to your family’s house for Christmas,” he persuades you.

“Fine,” you roll over to face him “Good Morning you annoyingly handsome boyfriend,” he chuckles lightly.

You sit there for a minute to see if he’ll not notice you going back to sleep slowly. Sam grabs your legs, pull you off the bed and slings you over his shoulders.

“I was getting there,” you tell him.

“Yeah, sure you were,” he rolls his eyes and brings you to the kitchen where breakfast has been made.

Dean looks up to see Sam carrying you in and shakes his head. It was everyday that you never wanted to get out of bed. The bed was your favorite place for two reasons. Sleep and … I think you can figure out the other one. He places you on the chair with your favorites in front of you. Hot cocoa goes just right with the cold weather. Along with the waffles and bacon to balance your taste buds. It was perfect and the right way to get you to wake up, if he would have fed you bacon you would gotten up earlier.

“Goodmorning sunshine,” Dean smiles to mock you.

“Yeah yeah good morning,” you say.

“When are you ever going to wake up willingly?” He asked.

“When we aren’t waking up at 8 am,” you complain. Sam walks back to you and he puts his arm around you. You guys talk about the upcoming event at your family’s house. For the week you guys are going to sleep over your grandmothers and ride with them to your cousin’s house for a Christmas party. It’s been a tradition for years, it’s Sam’s second time coming and Dean’s first time coming. You were very worried to let Dean come along because as an attractive person you are already, it runs in the genes. The bags are packed, everyone is ready and you’re on your way. As another tradition you guys stop at 7/11 to get a slurpee and a bag of chips. Every time you drove over to your grandparents your mom would make a stop to the 7/11 and you made sure to keep it even when you weren’t with her. There was no lie that you were excited, it was Christmas after all. The gifts you bought for everyone was meaningful and things they actually needed. It might just be a good Christmas after all.

“Okay so can I hit on at least one cousin?” Dean pleads.

“The only person you can hit on is my great grandmother and that’s the end of it.” You tell him. The whole car ride has been you and him going back and forth. You swear that you’re the older one.

“Am I going to have to put someone on time out?” Sam says in a dad tone. Everyone chuckles and Dean pulls into 7/11. “Wait y/n we can’t get anything more than a slurpee and chips?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that’s how we used to do it. It doesn’t fill you up but it gives a little boost. And Sam I know you’re not a junk food person so you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You tell him

“There wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t. I think I’ll use this week as a cheat day.” He gives you a wink. Everyone splits up to get their item of choosing. You start at the slurpee machine.

“You’re such a little weirdo, can’t you just drink one flavor. Does it even taste good mixing all of them together?” Sam mockingly criticizes you while he waits for you to finish.

“That’s boring, it does taste really good mixed. You should try it.” You take his cup and push down an equal amount of each flavor.

“Trust me you’re going to love it.” You smile up to him.

“And you would feel bad for wasting this so you have no choice anyways.” You add and he laughs. You all meet at the register and Dean pays. At the car you guys jump in and continue to go on your way. After you finished your chips you fell asleep.

“I’m not going to lie, but this isn’t so bad. Don’t tell y/n that I said that.” Sam finishes his drink and points at Dean. You guys pull up to your grandparents drive way. At that exact moment you woke up. Your grandparents walk outside to help you with your bags. They cover you all in kisses and hugs. This was the easy part. Your grandparents already met and love Sam and Dean. Your mom comes out and hugs you.

“How was the ride?” She asks.

“Pretty good, I don’t think we hit traffic but you would have to ask the people who actually stayed up.” You tell her. She greets Sam and Dean and everyone sits around the tree. Sam snakes his arm around your waste and Dean pops open a beer with your grandfather. You clear the table and get it ready for dinner. Dean helps pull out the table and gather the place mats. In the room over your mom is showing Sam the small photo album from when you were little.

“Sam wasn’t she just the cutest when she was a baby?” Your mom smiles at the pictures.

“Absolutely adorable, is there a duplicate of this album? I would love to bring it back with us.” Sam grins.

“All right that is enough of that.” You pop in and drag everyone into the kitchen. You all gather around the table and say grace. Then you all dig in, eating until your heart is content. After that you all watch a little television until you’re ready to go to bed. Tomorrow you all have to get ready for the Christmas Eve party where most of your family will be getting used to Sam and introduced to Dean. It was going to be one hell of a night.

You wake up with an empty space next to you. You’re the last one to wake up, per usual. The smell of bacon swims through the air and you quickly get up. Everyone is sitting at the breakfast table. You take a seat next to Sam and he pulls in you close.

“You know I hate to be the bearer of bad news but I think I found something.” he whispers in his ear.

“I wished it was something sexy but I’m guessing it’s a case.” you turn to him and say through your smile. You look at Dean and tilt your head towards the spare bedroom. “May we be excused?” you say to your family as you grab Sam’s hand and Dean follows behind. You lock the door behind you looking very irritated. They knew all you wanted was a good time with your family. Now someone is in trouble and you have to help them.

“Babe please don’t be upset but I was just watching the news with your family and they put everything together for us. It seems like a something big is happening.” Sam rambles.

“I’m not upset, I’m just disappointed. All I wanted was to enjoy Christmas with my whole family together.” You sit on the couch. Dean sits behinds you and puts a hand on your knee. Just like that your best friend makes you feel better.

“So what’s the case?” Dean asks.

“Well in Puerto Rico there is a weird thing happening to the goats and -.” Sam gets interrupted by your grandma.

“Chupacabra.” She says. Your grandmother continues to tell them about the history. The tales when she was told when she was younger were coming true. In Puerto Rico they used the story to scare children. But now there were reports of missing livestocks, especially lots of goats. You remember the tale by heart as it was installed into your head since you were a kid. Never did you think that one would be real. There was never an actual description of the beast so you believed it was just a story. Now this was going to be an interesting hunt.

“Wait grandma, you knew?” You asked her.

“Of course I knew, there is nothing you can hide from me dear. Your biological grandfather used dabble in hunting in the old days.” She says. You chuckle at the fact that it is true, she always knows everything. You ask her to cover for you guys and to call your relatives in Puerto Rico. They have no problem providing a place for you all to stay for a couple of days. You pack your things and sneak out of the house hoping to be back before Christmas. After lots of alcohol to get Dean to quiet on the plane and a few hours you arrive in Coamo, Puerto Rico, your home town. It was great to be back in a place where everyone knows and loves you. You walk into your great-aunt’s house. She greets you with a hug and takes all of your luggage. Sam bends over to hug your short aunt and you giggle at the sight. You guys walk into the room she set up for you guys.

“Okay so since I know this town like the back fo my hand I’m pretty sure this thing is hiding in the well at the farm house. So I say let’s kill this thing.” You jump at the opportunity.

“Only problem is that we couldn’t bring any of our weapons on the plane.” Dean points out.

“Actually I might know a guy.” Sam chips in. You look at him surprisingly. How would he know anyone in Puerto Rico to help? You take your uncle’s motorcycle and drive to the mysterious man. Once you get there you see a tan skinned old man with gray hair sitting in a rocking chair. He looks so familiar but you can’t put your finger on it. Then he spots you and smiles. He pulls you into a hug and says, “It’s about time.”

“Do I know you?” You ask confusingly.

“I thought you would be able to recognize me, but yeah maybe you got my personality genes instead.” He jokes.

“Grandpa? How do I- Sam when did you- I’m so confused.” You sit down.

“I was going to save this surprise for later but since we needed his help I figured we could do a little catching up now.” Sam says. You jump into his arms and kiss him softly. Then you mouth him a thank you as your real grandfather drags you guys inside. Dean catches him up on the case and helps you get the weapon you need, the shuriken. With one throw it cuts you into a million pieces, there was only one so it had to be used very carefully. As a another surprise they told you to stay behind on the hunt to get to know him better. Usually you wouldn’t allow this but after all of these years, you wanted to learn everything about him.

“You better come back to me in one piece.” You tell Sam and passionately kiss him. 
"Always, I’m not sure about this one though.“ He tilts his head towards Dean.

“Hey, don’t worry sweetheart you won’t be able to get rid of me that quickly.” He winks. You give him a hug and they go off on their way. Your grandfather fills you in on everything you have missed in his life since you were born. He tells you why your grandmother told you he was dead, of course it was a cliche of trying to protect us but now your life is never protected. You’ll always be in danger and now you want to have him in your life. You go on until he gets tired and it’s ready for bed. You say good bye for now and go back to your aunt’s house. Deciding to sit outside for a while you send out a prayer of hope. You know that Cas must be listening because you feel a flow of happiness run over you and you know everything is going to be alright.

“I think it’s a little too late for a beautiful lady like you to be outside.” Sam sneaks up behind you. You wrap your arms around him and he takes you upstairs where he sucked the life out of you.

#Sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge #sam winchester #spn fan fic #sam x reader

[ghinanotlinetti]

I recently read Sam Bett & David Boyd’s translation of ‘Breasts and Eggs’ by Mieko Kawakami and it got me thinking

In 2021, I wanted to read more fiction books. I felt that I was consuming too many non-fiction / self-help books which wasn’t exciting to read anymore, I needed those sweet escapes that a story books could give me, and so I made a pile of mostly fiction books to read this year.  I wanted to read Breasts and Eggs because I had read Ms Ice Sandwich and fell in love with Kawakami’s writing style, or rather the essence of her writing since I was reading an English translation, nonetheless I adored the way she wrote from the perspective of a little boy, the story was short but packed with emotions which fascinated me.

Spoiler warning!

B&E is a story structured in two parts told from the perspective of a Japanese woman, Natsuko, with a career in writing; in the first part, she’s in her early twenties picking up older sister, Makiko, and niece, Midoriko, from the train, her family are visiting her in Tokyo from Osaka, Makiko sets an appointment at a clinic there to get her breasts done, meanwhile Midoriko has recently stopped speaking, and the second part is set 9 years later after she has published her writing, is now an acclaimed writer and desires to have her own child without a partner. This story is about working-class womanhood, and is deeply intimate; I adore sibling dynamics, especially sisterhood, so I loved how Kawakami paints Natsuko and Makiko’s relationship, I was also moved by the depiction of motherhood from Makiko and Midoriko’s characters, which felt like an authentic portrait of a working single mother, and the portrayal of loneliness which Natsuko’s character experiences struck me the most, although it was intense, I relate on an emotional level.

I’ve always found Japanese literature intriguing; I’m not sure exactly what it is, but Japanese authors have a unique way of illustrating the theme of loneliness in their stories, from the build up to how they develop their characters, it hits me to my core because I too am lonely. The turns this novel takes felt natural, and I was surprised in a good way that I as a reader couldn’t feel comfortable in taking a side as to what Natsuko should and shouldn’t do (or want for herself) in her situation. I love novels that digs into grey areas, and womanhood has so many grey areas to explore. On the one hand, it really is crazy to think of artificially inseminating yourself with someone else’s sperm in order to have a child that you’ll then raise on your own (at least for the most parts), and on the other hand, why should non-partnered women who are capable of providing for a child and desire to experience motherhood be prohibited from having that experience? Could being self-partnered and artificial insemination become a norm in the future? Maybe. I myself currently see many women who are moving away from investing in men, living full lives on their own terms, which I think is a beautiful thing, though it comes with its own sacrifices and challenges. Natsuko explores almost all aspects of the coin’s two sides; there’s Yuriko who presents an anti-natalist argument against bringing a life into the world, Makiko is also not entirely on board and does call her out for perhaps being impulsive, then Natsuko meets Onda and is put off from choosing to inseminate herself with this creepy bloke’s sperm, but Aizawa tells her he’s willing to provide her his sperm in order for her to have a child, and everything happens naturally. Aizawa is a man she respects, even adores at one point, so she’s fine with him being the father of her child. The ending surprised me because I wasn’t expecting for it to be that full of a conclusion, which is honestly great though I was fully prepared for an open-ended, mystery, question-mark ending. In the end, Natsuko and Aizawa don’t have a relationship beyond being co-parents, so the romance had an end, but it wasn’t all that upsetting because Natsuko herself is okay with being unpartnered. A very intriguing novel for the themes it presents, and great contemporary, working-class take on those themes too!

I never would’ve thought that this conversation on companionship, being self-partnered and reproductive rights could be brought to the forefront and discussed openly, let alone be depicted in fiction, so I’m very happy to hold this book in my hands which deserves all the praise and love from readers all around the world. At first glance, this wouldn’t be a fiction story I’d think a lot of people would want to read, most people tend to gravitate towards portrayals of romance and even if audiences want to see an “independent woman” it’s through a limiting lens that doesn’t bring much nuances, so I think this book is ground-breaking for being bold and daring whilst telling a story that feels natural.

5-star novel for me for sure 💕 Loved the touch of magical realism too, I thought it was great and well done. I’m curious to know Midoriko’s story 9 years later, though I understand why she’s not part of the narrative since part 2 focuses Natsuko’s story who is the story’s narrator. I believe this book deserves a movie adaptation too, because it has those cinematic moments, and the characters are so well written I think they’ll translate well onto screen. More novels about grey areas in womanhood journey, please!

Last updated: August 15th 2021

#breasts and eggs #mieko kawakami #japanese literature #literature in translation #picador books #book review #womanhood #motherhood #working class #sam bett #david boyd

[captain-kelli]

When I started this challenge, all I knew is that I wanted to see more strong women in fanfiction - whatever that happened to look like. 

Y’all. These writers delivered. Their characters are complex and capable and fierce. I know we all love our Marvel men, but these women shine! It’s everything I ever needed. Maybe you need it, too?

Read them:

As of May 2nd, these are the stories I’ve read that have been submitted. If I’ve missed yours, shoot me a note!!

Dialogue Prompts:

“I could do it better! And in heels!”

Mother’s Love by @justlexia​ (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Women Do It Better by @sebbbystaaan​ (Sam Wilson x Reader)

“I do not need a damn man by my side to do this.”

Killer Queen by @stuckonjbbarnes​​​ (Stucky x Reader)

“If there’s one thing I’m willing to bet on, it’s myself.”

I Know My Worth by @danijimenezv​ (Clint Barton x Reader)

“Oh, screw beautiful. I’m brilliant. If you want to appease me, compliment my brain.”

It’s a Beautiful Day to Save Lives by @xetoilerouge​​​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

"I think you can't wait for someone to fly underneath you and save your life. I think you have to save yourself."

NYC | Far From Home by @whistlingwillows​​​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

“I’m a woman with a brain and reasonable ability”

Public Relations by @sunlightdances​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A Drunk Mind Speaks a Sober Heart by @heartopen-testify​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

"Who asked you to intervene? You think you have to rescue me? You think I can’t take care of myself?”

Stronger by @tarithenurse​ (Thor x Reader)

If Three’s a Crowd, Then What Does That Make Four? by @avintagekiss24​​ (Stucky x Reader)

“I am not the girl the guy gets at the end of the movie. I am not a fantasy. If you want me, earn me! Until then, we are done.”

Someone to Love by @saiyanprincessswanie​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

“When the door you have been knocking at finally swings open, you don’t ask why. You run through.”

Do Better by @wintersoldierissucharide​ (Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson x Reader - platonic)

Quote Prompts:

She has been through hell. So believe me when I say, fear her when she looks into fire and smiles.

Looking Into the Fire by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ (Thor x Reader)

The Fires of Hell by @captain-rogers-beard​ (Wanda Maximoff)

Empowered women empower women.

Sisterhood by @the-unspoken-rule​ (Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Reader - platonic)

There is no limit to what we, as women, can accomplish.

Mission Turn It Up in the Club by @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ (Loki x Reader)

Song Prompts:

You Don’t Own Me (Lesley Gore / SAYGRACE)

Courage and Kindness by @softhairbarnes​ (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Formation (Beyoncé)

I See It, I Want It by @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Salute (Little Mix)

No Need to Fear, the Ladies Are Here by @avengerskeeper​ (Sam Wilson x Reader)

Truth Hurts (Lizzo)

Truth Hurts by @ussgallifreyfics​ (Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Nightmare (Halsey)

Did the Right Thing by @jbbuckybarnes​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

No Sweet Dream by @jbbarnesnnoble​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Fighter (Christina Aguilera)

A Smile Is Worth Fighting For by @lesqui​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Fighter - Kill Them All by @sirenaurelix​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Woman (Ke$ha)

Woman by @kellyn1604​ (Steve Rogers x Reader)

You Should See Me in a Crown (Billie Eilish)

These Fractured Places by @nacho-bucky​ (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

#captainkelli500fam #steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Thor x Reader #loki x reader #sam wilson x reader #stories about strong women

[askamydaily]

This year -- put a Book on EVERY Bed

This year: put a Book on EVERY Bed

By “Ask Amy” advice columnist Amy Dickinson

10 December, 2020

Dear Readers: Every year at Christmastime, I delight in promoting a Book on Every Bed. I do so in memory of my mother, Jane, who raised her children to understand that if you have a book, you are never alone.

The idea originally came from historian David McCollough, who recounted the Christmas mornings of his youth, when the very first thing he woke up to was a wrapped book at the base of his bed, left there by Santa.

The most important part is what happens next: Family members reading together.

That’s it! That’s the whole idea!

Over the last ten years, working with my local literacy partner Children’s Reading Connection (childrensreadingconnection.org), this campaign has grown to include schools, libraries and bookstores, who have donated scores of books to families that might not have access to them. The goal – and our dream – is that families will experience the intimate and personal connection of diving into and sharing stories, the way my mother and I did throughout her life.

Over the years, important literacy advocates, such as the Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden and LeVar Burton, and bestselling children’s authors Brad Meltzer and Peter Reynolds, have endorsed and helped to spread the good word.

This year is different. So many of us are alone, hurting, and separated from family and familiar holiday routines.

All of us – not just children – need a good book on our beds.

I have broadened the scope to include specific recommendations for books spanning all ages. I’ve reached out to some of my favorite writers, literacy advocates, and independent booksellers across the country for their special picks.

Whether you purchase a book or share an old favorite, I hope you will be inspired to put A Book on Every Bed this year. It is not necessary to make a Christmas deadline – this idea is one to sustain people throughout what might shape up to be a very long winter.

Following are recommendations for all age groups.

Baby and Toddlers: From Brigid Hubberman, Children’s Reading Connection, Ithaca, NY (childrensreadingconnection.org):

“Words are the language of love for babies.  The best books for infants should be about the world they know. Parents should choose books to surround babies with an abundance of loving and delightful words.”

Baby Cakes, by Karma Wilson and Sam Williams

Haiku Baby, by Betsy E. Snyder

Shine Baby Shine, by Leslie Staub and Lori Nichols

Ages 3-5: From Lisa Swaze, Buffalo Street Books, Ithaca, NY (Buffalostreetbooks.com)

“If You Come to Earth,” by Sophie Blackall is one of my favorite picture books of 2020. This book is beautiful both visually and lyrically, and it will feel like a warm hug to any child or family who receives it.

“You Matter,” by Christian Robinson is a bright and elegant book that takes children on a journey around the world to make it clear that everyone matters, and perhaps more importantly, reassure them that they matter, no matter what they look like or where they are from.

Early Readers: From Sandra Dear, owner of The Little Boho Bookshop, in Bayonne, NJ (thelittlebohobookshop.com)

“The Suitcase,” by Chris Naylor-Ballesteros: This beautiful story about immigration, is full of heart and humanity as it teaches our littlest ones about hope, tolerance and kindness.

“Home in the Woods,” by Eliza Wheeler: This stunningly beautiful picture book has fast become a customer favorite. A story about starting over, of overcoming! A story of family, love and joy of being and growing together.

Middle Grade Readers: From Becky Anderson, co-owner of Anderson’s Bookshop, in Naperville, Illinois (andersonsbookshops.com):

“Ways to Make Sunshine,” by Renee Watson: Watson writes her own version of Ramona Quimby, one starring a Black girl and her family, in this start to a charming new middle grade series about spirit, kindness, and sunshine.  Ryan, a fourth grader, finds the positive in difficult situations and when trouble strikes. She is that character to love and bring in the sunshine!  Grades 3-6

Skunk and Badger by Amy Timberlake, illustrated by Jon Klassen: Winnie-the-Pooh and Frog and Toad meet in a fresh take on a classic odd-couple friendship.  Klassen’s illustrations add much to a story of an unlikely friendship that proves that opposites can see the good in one another. The first in a series.  Grades 3-7

“The Silver Arrow,” by Lev Grossman: Kate’s humdrum life is transformed when her eccentric Uncle Herbert brings her a colossal locomotive train, the Silver Arrow, as her eleventh birthday gift, leading her and her younger brother on a mysterious journey.  The train will remind readers of the Hogwart’s Express. A story that is environmentally aware and calls readers to action. Perfect for fans of Roald Dahl and The Chronicles of Narnia.  Grades 3-7

YA Readers: Danielle Kreger, Blue Bunny Books, Dedham, MA (bluebunnybooks.com):  "One of Us is Lying" by Karen M McManus: An edge of your seat mystery that takes place in Bayview High school during detention. Simon, a so-called "outcast," never makes it out of detention alive. What follows is a tale of twists and turns that has the reader questioning the reliability of the characters, and the secrets they keep.

"Burn" by Patrick Ness: A fast-paced young adult fantasy that begins with fifteen-year-old Sarah, who meets Kazimir – a dragon who has been hired to help on her family's farm. Still reeling from the death of her mother, Sarah finds herself feeling an intense and unusual connection with Kazimir. As the story unfolds secrets, dangers and Kazimir's true purpose are revealed.

"The New Kid" by Jerry Craft: A spot-on graphic novel about navigating a new school, new friends and identity. Jordan Banks is in seventh grade when he is sent to a rigorous private school and grapples with staying true to himself- his love for creating cartoons, how to maintain his old friends and how he fits in in a less than diverse new school. A totally lovable and relatable character!

Adult Non-fiction: From Alex George, the author, most recently, of The Paris Hours, founder and director of the Unbound Book Festival, and the owner of Skylark Bookshop, in Columbia, MO (skylarkbookshop.com)

“Wintering,” by Katherine May: This is a deeply personal, quietly beautiful book, written with grace and immense thoughtfulness. We all go through difficult times; by mulling over her responses to her own misfortunes, the author offers insight as to how we might think differently about low points in our lives. Instructive, inspiring, and ultimately profoundly hopeful.

“The Book of Delights,” by Ross Gay: This utterly charming book of micro-essays by Ross Gay, a beloved and renowned poet, is a perfect gift for – well, just about anyone. Gay set himself the challenge of finding one thing that delighted him each day for a year, and then writing about it. The result is a quirky, brilliant book that you can dip in and out of, always finding something to make you smile, and think. A guaranteed lifter of spirits.

“Intimations: Six Essays,” by Zadie Smith: I’ve always loved Zadie Smith’s nonfiction work, and this small but powerful book shows her talents at their finest. Written during the pandemic, these six pieces are sharp, and funny, and thought-provoking. Smith’s deeply personal reflections on this strangest of years is essential reading. If ever there was a book for these strange times, it’s this one.

Adult Fiction: Mark LaFramboise, Senior Book Buyer at Politics and Prose in Washington, DC (politics-prose.com)

“The Butterfly Lampshade,” by Aimee Bender: This is a beautiful story of mental illness, the bonds of sisterhood, and the liveliness of a child's imagination.  Francie is 8 years old when the book begins, the daughter of a single mom.  This is the story of her odyssey after her mother is committed to a mental hospital, and she is sent to be raised by an aunt and uncle.

“Luster,” by Raven Leilani: Edie, the young protagonist in Luster, Raven Leilani's debut novel, is daring, sexy, hilarious, super smart, and drop dead beautiful.  Her affair with a married man takes a turn for the strange when she meets and befriends the man's wife and daughter.  Edie is whip smart because Raven Leilani is whip smart and her voice propels this beguiling novel.

“What Are You Going Through,” by Sigrid Nunez: Sigrid Nunez writes so beautifully that plot feels irrelevant.  The writer's confidence and authority are apparent from the first page.  Ultimately, it's the story of a woman who is asked by an old college acquaintance to be with her when she takes her life, after a cancer diagnosis.  But, like her previous book The Friend (about a woman who inherits a large Great Dane), it doesn't matter what story she tells because her words bristle with life.

Elders: Gayle Shanks, Changing Hands Bookstore, in Tempe and Phoenix, AZ

(changinghands.com)

“Apeirogon,” by Colum McCann: Two fathers, one Palestinian and one Israeli have both lost their young daughters to violence but have decided that reconciliation, not revenge, is what they needed to seek. In the process, they became best friends. McCann describes the insanity and senseless violence bred in the Middle East, the Occupation under which the Palestinians are forced to live, but also the beauty of the country, the migration of birds, the many ways humans overcome adversity and find solace in the natural world and each other. In a series of 1001 fragments, McCann walks us through his imaginary polygon, the Apeirogon of the title, containing an infinite number of sides, an infinite number of gorgeous sentences, and ultimately an infinite number of ways to view the human condition.  

“All the Way to the Tigers,” by Mary Morris: Travel writer Mary Morris’ book, written in small chapters, was in some ways similar to reading Colum McCann's, Aperagon, also written in small bits (in his case 1001, in Mary's -- 112 chapters). Morris travels to India in search of the elusive Bengal tiger, but in so many ways she is searching for herself and her place in the world as she recovers from a serious ankle injury that leaves her debilitated but determined.  

In her short vignettes, she quotes Rilke, Wendell Berry, other writers she admires and reminds us how important it is to listen intently to others as in active listening we are rewarded with deeper understanding.

“The Chair Rocks,” by Ashton Applewhite: From childhood on, we’re barraged by messages that it’s sad to be old. That wrinkles are embarrassing, and old people useless. Author and activist Ashton Applewhite believed them too—until she realized where this prejudice comes from and the damage it does. Lively, funny, and deeply researched, This Chair Rocks traces Applewhite’s journey from apprehensive boomer to pro-aging radical, and in the process debunks myth after myth about late life. The book explains the roots of ageism—in history and in our own age denial. Whether you’re older or hoping to get there, this book will shake you by the shoulders, cheer you up, make you mad, and change the way you see the rest of your life. Age pride!  

#Ask Amy #Amy Dickinson #Book on Every Bed #literacy #books #independent bookshop #book recommendations #changing hands bookstore #politics and prose #skylark bookshop #Blue Bunny Books #Childrens Reading Connection #Buffalo Street Books

[sweetsmellosuccess]

TIFF 2020: Day 4

Films: 3 Best Film of the Day(s): MLK/FBI

76 Days: Hao Wu, realizing very early on that the early medical reaction to the Coronavirus in Wuhan was something worth capturing, begins his of-the-moment doc, where else but the emergency ward of a Wuhan hospital. Staff members, dressed head-to-toe in protective gear, including hazmat suits, masks, screens, and goggles, frantically try to keep order as sick patients literally bang on the door from the cold, packed waiting room. Once inside the ward, they are quickly dispatched to the only available beds and immediately intubated, the flow of patients either leaving under their own power or being sent to the morgue. Alarms go off, people’s phones bleat and go unanswered. Wu, also using footage from Shanghai, with similarly dire imagery, switches out from the frantic hospital wards long enough to show the Wuhan in total shutdown, the streets and bridges devoid of cars, pedestrians or any sense of life at all. If you squint your eyes a bit, it could seem like a found-footage zombie horror flick. Standing with a population of 7.9 million  —  only half a million people smaller than New York  —  to see Wuhan brought to a complete standstill is to grasp the enormity of this calamity, and the idiocy of countries who were unprepared for such a disaster. The footage tends towards the splintered  —  beyond a couple of key figures whom we see more than once, the closest we come to a narrative arc is watching one sickened “grandpa” (as all elderly men are called) with dementia, in the beginning wandering around the ward helplessly, sobbing in his bed at his suffering, only to recover and be let out some weeks later  —  but what it lacks in cohesiveness, it makes up for in immediacy. What does come out from the footage is how caring the staff is with their patients, even against impossible numbers, and working beyond exhaustion, they take the time to care properly for the citizens under their supervision, giving them pep talks, holding phones so family members can communicate with them, brightening their days as much as feasibly possible. Fittingly, the film ends with a scene as one of the nurses draws the miserable job of calling family members to inform them of the death of their loved ones. “My condolences” she says, over and over, suffering from the limitations of language to express such exhausted grief.

Violation: A film that shoots for disturbingly provocative, but hits blurry stridency, Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli’s fractured rape-revenge story has a lot to say, but can’t quite find the right mechanics to pull it off. Mood and atmosphere, it is not lacking in at least: From the opening credits, blurry font laid over blurred background, to the continued use of the natural world  —  albeit mostly repped by wolves/rabbits and spiders/flies that, shall we say, doesn’t leave much to the imagination, analogy-wise  —  and the time-fractured nature of the narrative, the film has a sense of complexity that its characters can’t sustain. We are at a sweet vacation house somewhere in the pine woods of upstate New York, where British sisters, Miriam (Sims-Fewer) and Greta (Anna Maguire) are reunited after a sizable absence from one another. Miriam has arrived with her unhappy husband, Caleb (Obi Abili), from London, to meet with Greta and her more affable husband, Dylan (Jesse LaVercombe), a friend of Miriam’s since their days in high school together (it was through her that he and Greta first met). Into that happy sort of setting, the two couples trying to enjoy a weekend together, there are scenes from one time in the future or other (at first, unclear), with a much more haunted seeming Miriam conspiring some kind of psycho-sexual caper involving Dylan back at the house, and from there, a scene further out still, in which a sad and bedraggled Greta, upset with Miriam over something, is expecting a large group of people at the same vacation house. Eventually, we piece together that Dylan raped Miriam that first weekend, and her revenge is what comes at us from the near future. Only the rape itself is weirdly muted, and comes out of seeming nowhere, given their long-standing (and unbroken) friendship from earlier. The early scenes of relative happiness between the principals are actually good enough that the characters’ respective turns towards dark and twisted don’t feel like the same people, or the same relationships at all, which divides the movie further into sections that don’t seem terribly connected. Along the way, we get a graphic amount of (male) nudity, lots of painstakingly blood-letting violence, and many, many scenes of now-crazed Miriam sobbing, and heaving, and breaking down over and over, at a creeping pace. We get the point: the politics of sisterhood, rape, and revenge, and the manner in which our deepest convictions can be challenged by the wrong set of circumstances, but despite the filmmakers’ earnestness and care, the film doesn’t hang together the way it needs to for the impact it wants to have.

MLK/FBI: That J. Edgar Hoover’s largely unregulated FBI turned its considerable sights on Martin Luther King Jr. and the rise of the civil rights movement can’t be surprising to anyone familiar with the director’s abhorrence of people he deemed rebel rousers, or chaos-agents, but the actual stated reason for his paranoia on the subject, featured in this doc from Sam Pollard, tells a more interesting story. The success of King’s movement, highlighted by the wildly successful march on Washington in 1963 (an event after which MLK was deemed “the most dangerous negro” in the country by the FBI, whom they would have to “destroy”) spurred further investigation by the bureau, and what they found was even more troubling to Hoover. Amongst King’s immediate group of advisors was an outspoken Jewish civil-rights lawyer named Stanley Levison, who had been and almost certainly remained a member of the American Communist Party, the single greatest threat Hoover perceived against the “American way of life” (ie. “white”). Inflamed by the fear that the Communists were influencing King to lead his peaceful revolution towards social equality for the Reds, Hoover went all in on wiretapping and live-recording King, such that they amassed an enormous amount of material, including the knowledge that the married Baptist minister and father of four was also a serial-cheater, having affairs with more than 40 women Hoover’s G-men documented (nevermind that the sitting president, JFK, was known as an equally philandering playboy, and was protected at every turn). As King’s agency and influence became more widespread, the only thing holding Hoover back from releasing this information to discredit the Black leader was King’s strong relationship with President Lyndon B. Johnson, the signer of the Civil Rights Act in 1964, after JFK’s assassination. When, some years later, King finally followed his conscience, and spoke out against the Vietnam War, an act of bravery even many of his fellow civil rights crusaders refused to go with, severing his relationship with LBJ in the process, Hoover finally had the opening he needed to put his long-held plan to work. Working primarily with historian David Garrow, along with interview commentary from members of King’s inner circle, including Andrew Young and Clarence B. Jones, and featuring many recently declassified materials from the FBI’s own files, Pollard paints a vivid portrait of the political machinations of men with tremendous power, navigating difficult waters, and the cost of speaking out your conscience. Perhaps, best summed up by notorious former FBI head James Comey, who calls this period of time, “the darkest era in the bureau’s history.”

In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #tiff2020 #toronto international film festival #mlk/fbi #martin luther king #j. edgar hoover #FBI #violation #rape #revenge #Madeleine Sims-Fewer #dusty Mancinelli’ #76 days #coronavirus #wuhan #emergency rooms #hao wu #pandemic

[sisterhoodofsam]

SoS Rejects of Supernatural Challenge!

Greetings Sisters!!!

It has been a long time since we’ve made a blog announcement, but, as many of you know, life can often get in the way. Thankfully, we now have a well-stocked Queue, and the blog has been running itself quite smoothly for quite a while!

So, you may be asking ‘why make a blog announcement if everything is going good?’. Well, Sisters, I am here to tell you that things have been going so good, that we’ve reached just over 1000 followers!!! Which is astounding!!!

To celebrate this, we’ve thrown together a Challenge that we think is really Sam-worthy! (please ignore the fact that we actually started planning this challenge for our 500 Follower celebration… we’re just that well organised)

On the surface, this is a pretty standard Challenge. - We have a list of monsters - You guys pick a monster - You guys write a fic related to that monster

HOWEVER! We decided to throw in a little twist. These monsters have never appeared on the show (kinda why we’ve dubbed them the ‘Rejects’). Many of them we hadn’t heard of until we came to create this Challenge. They are weird, whacky and creepy.

Below we’ve listed their names, and their names only! Once you’ve picked a creature, we will send you a small snippet of information that we’ve found on them (some more than others), and then the rest is up to you! You can either roll with what you’ve got, or go the extra mile and try and dig a little deeper into the Lore (in true Sam fashion!) It is entirely up to you!!! (We recommend not Googling them before you choose, so that it’s a complete lottery as to what you end up with. But we can’t really stop you if that’s what you want to do!)

So, here is a brief summary of the Rules: - No more than two people per Monster - Send us an Ask with which monster you’d like - Fics must feature Sam (I mean… this is the Sisterhood of Sam) - Ships are permitted - Minimum word count is 700 Words. There is NO maximum word count - Please include ‘sos rejects challenge’ and ‘sisterhood of sam challenge’ in the first five tags - Tag us in your fics!!!

Deadline is Sunday 10th September.

Right…. Now onto our quirky beasties!

1.       Pontianac

- @talesmaniac89

2.       Domovoi - @magnoliasam

3.       Chupacabra - @number-one-supernatural-trash

- @mandilion76

4.       Pukwudgie - @pinknerdpanda

5.       Cockatrice - @oneshoeshort

- @soopranatural

6.       Aswang - @mrsbatesmotel53

7.       Black Shuck

8.       Dryads - @growningupgeek

9.       Erinyes/Furies

10.   Incubus/Succubus

11.   Redcaps

12.   Vila

13.   Baba Yaga

14.   Fear Gorta

15.   Fear Gortach

16.   The Grey Man - @barbedwireandbubblegum  - @deansleather

17.   Glaaki

- @alangel1895

18.   Anteros - @sammit-janet

19.   Jikininki - @iputthesininbuisness

20.   La Diablesse

Can’t wait to read your fics, and bask in the glory of your imagination!!! Happy Hunting!

~ Binxy, Hazel & Miami

#sos rejects challenge #sisterhood of sam challenge #1000 followers #1000 follower celebration