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#Stanford thinks this is all hilarious actually
creativesplat · 11 months
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Both generations of Pines Twins were arrested. What were they doing? They’ll never tell you. 
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deanbrainrotwritings · 6 months
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— A PROCLAMATION
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SUMMARY : stanford era dean is a fuckable little sub and i like writing him that way forever. edging him here, actually
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : mallory (oc), daphne (oc)
WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), unprotected sex (we all know dean is safer that, but it’s ok for fiction), virgin!reader, oral sex, spanking dean, sub!dean, feeling all these emojis: 😖😮‍💨😭💀🤣😔🤭😩😧😆😫🥺😆😋😟😣😳🫣🫢🫡🫠😵‍💫🤤🥴🤧🤠🥹
WORD COUNT : 11k
A/N : title from close your eyes’ song. my beloved, breedable, stanfordera!dean. high school me was horny af, but for dean specifically, which is hilarious… i removed a character bc she contributed nothing to the plot LMAO xx
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Dean chewed on his lip as he gazed at Y/N. She wasn’t even drinking, she never did, she was eyeing her best friend Daphne as she flirted with an attractive older man. Dean watched Y/N shake her head, an amused smile growing on her pretty lips when her glittering eyes suddenly found Dean’s and he nearly stopped breathing.
Her gaze was like a magnet and he was just a weak piece of metal, attracted to her only. Her adorable eyes, soft and warm like the blankets his mother used to buy him when he was a kid, made him warm all over, too. He melted like delicate chocolate in a hot mouth, and his face suddenly heated up.
She smiled at Dean and he gave her a little smile in return. Her cheeks were flushed and adorable, her lips a shade darker from her nervously chewing on them. Maybe what made it more difficult to be normal around her was the outfit Daphne made her wear. She was so hot. “What?” She asked, laughing shyly, she scooted closer to him and Dean tensed a little, watching her soft strands brush against the top of her shoulders.
The bar was a little loud, filled with chatter and balls clicking against each other from the pool table, laughter from people, and some old love song playing from the jukebox. It wasn’t Y/N’s favourite thing to do, it was definitely not where she’d want to be, he knew that.
He subconsciously moved his hand up and brushed her hair back slightly, fixing a unruly strand of her hair and her face softened at the action. Usually, Dean thought she was the cutest girl he’d laid his eyes on, but today she looked sexy. She was elegant and devastatingly beautiful, graceful in ways most hunters weren’t, Dean spent a lot of his free time admiring her or thinking about her.
“Sorry,” he murmured, freezing as his fingers brushed against her warm cheek.
“Do you think if I sit closer to you that guy over there will stop staring at me?” She asked suddenly, reaching out to touch his hand. Dean blinked at her small hand covering his, watched her tilt her head subtly to the side and he slowly let his gaze wander to where a man was sitting, glancing at her every once in a while as his friend talked to him.
Dean looked away quickly, jealousy burning in his chest even though Y/N was clearly uninterested. He moved closer to her, slinging his arm around her shoulders, and her smile widened as she gazed up at him. “This okay, sweetheart?” He asked, feeling his body heat up and electricity suddenly surrounded the air around them as the warm air of her laugh puffed over his neck and made him shiver. She nodded and looked away from him, choosing to play with the label on the bottle of beer he half-drank.
“I shouldn’t have let Daph talk me into wearing this outfit,” she told him quietly. Dean felt his gaze unintentionally fall to her cleavage, the green cropped shirt with lace along the neck and thin straps fit tightly around her torso, outlining her gentle curves. She looked gorgeous, her arms toned and smooth, her collarbones just barely visible to show she ate well, the column of her neck exposed and decorated by a simple gold chain with a little star.
“I think you look beautiful,” he found himself saying. She laughed again, then looked up at him and he smiled nervously as she shook her head. Suddenly everyone started to fade away, all he could see was her beautiful face, feel the warmth radiating from her small body like a little sun, smell the sweet aroma of the expensive perfume her mother bought her. It wafted up to his nose, combined with the delicious smell of honey and jasmine from her hair and skin and he wanted to moan, to lean down and taste her sweet skin.
“I look like all those girls you chase,” she joked. That hurt. His lips parted and he frowned down at her, disheartened. That’s what she thought of him? “Sorry,” she said immediately, staring at him with her eyebrows drawn together cutely, her way of being sincere. “You’re sweet and that was mean,” she chuckled.
Dean moved away a little and she looked at him anxiously, hoping she didn’t ruin his mood, but instead he removed the baby blue flannel he was wearing and placed it over her shoulders. His lean muscles flexed under the white t-shirt he wore and she could only stare at the little freckles on his arm before she smiled again, gazing into his green eyes.
“Thanks, D,” she murmured, putting her arms through the sleeves and smiled down at herself as she closed the front a little to hide her breasts again.
“Yeah, no problem.” He kissed her forehead and she adorably scrunched her nose at his affection, shy. She lifted her shoulder to press her nose against the soft material to find the pleasant smell of Dean’s body. Even Dean’s body heat remained on the shirt for a little and she shivered, then took his arm and returned it to rest around her shoulders.
Dean smiled down at her, feeling his entire body blush even more when she hummed in satisfaction. He dared to look over to where the guy was—who had been staring at Y/N—and he looked at Dean with an awkward, insecure smile on his face. Dean felt triumphant and looked back at Y/N who had peeled away the label from the bottle of beer he had abandoned.
Y/N’s phone buzzed on the table. Y/N stared at it indifferently, but when she looked at Daphne’s name light up on the screen, she grabbed it and opened the message. Dean tried reading what Daphne had messaged to Y/N, but he suddenly realised it was a text in Spanish and only knew the text was about him when he read his name in the middle of the sentence.
Dean watched her blush, and he raised a brow at her reaction curiously as she cleared her throat and closed her phone. “What did Daph say?” He played with her hair, turning slightly to look at her face more clearly.
“She… um, she just said she wasn’t drunk and that going to the guy’s place was entirely her decision.” Dean laughed a little and Y/N smiled at the sound. The air seemed to get thicker around them, and he squeezed her a little in his arms.
“What did she say about me?” He wondered, watching her as her brows went up slightly.
“Uh, just to stay with you ‘cause everyone is ugly,” she chuckled. Dean laughed again and Y/N’s bare knee brushed against his as she shifted next to him. Even over his jeans, he felt voltage travel from that small touch up to his cock and he stiffened, swallowing nervously when she immediately turned to look at him. “Everything okay, Dean?” She asked, not moving her knees away, so it felt like a constant current travelling all over his body and leaving him out of breath.
“Think you’ll be okay if I go to the bathroom for a bit?” He breathed out, starting to remove himself from her. She nervously looked to where the man was and caught his gaze. Dean grabbed her chin gently and forced her to look at him instead. “Don’t look at him, he’ll take it as an invitation,” he warned.
“Oh,” she replied quietly, her cheeks turning pink as Dean distractedly ran his thumb across her bottom lip. Nothing seemed to be getting better, Dean should’ve thought more clearly about his actions because now he was sure he was leaning in, and he couldn’t stop it. Not when her pink lips were parted in surprise and her warm eyes were now looking at his lips as well.
His lips finally touched her soft ones and he felt himself melt against her as her small hands moved to hold his face. The kiss was innocent, perfect, just his lips moulded perfectly between hers and he pulled away nervously. She blinked at him and licked her lips as if checking that the kiss had happened after all from how fleeting it was.
“Sorry, I’ll, uh, I’m gonna go now-” he moved his hand away from her chin and she dropped her hands from his face, frowning as he stared in slight surprise at the tent in his jeans.
“Don’t,” she insisted, her hand landing on his knee and he turned red, nearly flinching at the way the warmth of her touch seeped through his jeans. She looked down to see what he was looking at and blushed even more. “Oh,” she said again, and he felt himself get more embarrassed as he shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m really sorry,” he repeated, and as soon as the words left his mouth the entire front of her body was pressed against his as she kissed him again. He moaned softly in surprise, his hands finding her waist instinctively to hold her close as her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Let's get out of here,” she murmured against his lips. She sucked gently on his bottom lip and his breath hitched as he nodded thoughtlessly. He had no idea where his brain was when she grabbed her phone, his hand, then dragged him out of the noisy bar, into the cold air that knocked a little sense into him now that he was wearing only a t-shirt. “God… you’ve been driving me crazy, Dean.. for so long,” she muttered breathlessly as she walked to his car.
“I-I have?” Dean stuttered, watching her small body ahead of him covered in his big, baby blue flannel. She was so short, the top of her head was slightly under his shoulders and he found her endearing again.
“Yes,” she breathed out, stopping once they got to his car. Dean stared at her for a moment, the cold, evening air biting his cheeks and prickling his skin and she shivered, pulling his flannel closer around her body. “Your keys, D?” She asked and he blushed as he snapped out of his daydream.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and started digging into his pocket where he always had his keys, causing her to laugh quietly, watching him fumble with the keys. Her laugh sounded teasing, a little mocking—prideful—and he shrunk a little as he unlocked the door and felt her cold hand slide up under the front of his shirt. “Shit,” he gasped, shivering as her cold fingers brushed against his nipple. His knees buckled slightly and he held himself with his hand on the roof of his sleek and sexy Impala.
“This okay, D?” She murmured, her other hand moving to unbuckle his belt. He looked around at the lonely, somewhat dark parking lot and then looked down at Y/N’s hand, watching her one hand expertly pull his belt off the buckle.
“You’re so hot,” he rasped, his cock twitching as if it were agreeing with his statement. She chuckled, bringing her other hand to his waist to hold him in place as she popped the button of his jeans without a struggle and carefully zipped it down. His hips involuntarily moved forward as she zipped down carefully and she bit her lip as she grinned at how responsive he was.
He squeezed his eyes shut as she sneaked her hand into his jeans, slowly rubbing at his erection over his boxers in up and down motions. He moaned softly, pressing his forehead against the cold, black metal of his car and she hummed softly when she got a feel of how big he was and pulled her hand out of his jeans.
He whined and she laughed again, pressing a soft kiss against his back. “Get in, pretty boy,” she smacked his ass and he chuckled, the mood becoming light, but still electrified with lust.
Before he could do anything, she started walking around the other side of his car. He watched her with wonder and adoration for a few moments, then came to his senses. He quickly got in and unlocked the door for her from inside, pulling it open just as she got there, greeting her with a playful smile that she returned, her eyes bright and mischievous as she admired his face.
“Thank you, sweetie,” she said flirtatiously. He closed his door and waited for her to close hers before he moved forward and kissed her again, deeper. She smiled against his lips, opening up when he shyly licked between her lips. “God, I’m so wet,” she moaned against his mouth. He pulled away immediately, staring at her with hunger as she licked her lips and rubbed her thighs together.
“Put your seatbelt on,” he told her, putting his own seatbelt on as he turned the Impala on and pulled out of the driveway. He was so relieved that their motel room was nearby, quickly getting out of his car and locking it as soon as she started to exit.
He was on her within seconds, his hands on her hips when he kissed her excitedly, forgetting about his jeans being open but not really caring as pressing himself this close to her hid anything from view. He felt her hands sneak into his back pockets and heard the quiet jingle of keys as he walked her backwards until she gently hit the door.
He didn’t want to move, but it was cold and he was not going to have sex out in the open with her. She deserved better than that and if he had the money, he’d be sleeping with her somewhere with much better ratings.
He pulled away from her lips, letting her turn around quickly to unlock the door and kissed her neck while holding onto her hips and letting her walk into the dark room. Whatever routine check he usually made before re-entering a room, suddenly didn’t register. He kicked the door behind him closed, locking it blindly and heard her throw the keys on the table before she turned the lights on.
He slid his hands up her stomach to her breasts, kneading them gently. She rested her back against his body, letting him touch her, his thumbs swiping gently against her nipples over her shirt. She hummed softly, arching her back as he circled her nipples with light touches, and then rubbed and pinched them gently again.
He liked the weight of them in his hands, the warmth that seeped through the flimsy material against his palm. He rutted against her ass, moaning quietly when he remembered he just needed to tug his jeans down to feel more friction. She moved away from him, panting and turning to face him, her cheeks flushed and adorable.
“You’re so hot, Dean,” she praised, licking her lips as she checked him out, the messy locks of his hair, the pink that suffused across his freckled cheeks, his swollen and red lips, his haphazardly-on jeans. She shrugged his flannel off, leaving it on a nearby chair.
He started to take his shoes off when she did the same, feeling her body immediately pressed against his again. Warm and soft, her hands slid his shirt up, his skin breaking out in goosebumps, until the shirt was hitting the floor and her lips met his. He put his hands on her waist, moving backwards with her while her fingers tangled in his hair.
He was desperate for her. His tongue impatiently invaded her mouth which made her smile, the way his tongue licked at hers, trying to memorise the taste of her with every gentle caress of his tongue, took her breath away. He pulled away slightly, with his hands under her skirt, lowering the soft panties she wore. As they pooled around her ankles, she focused on tugging his jeans down, her lips exploring his chest and his stomach.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of her mouth on his body, the small licks of her wet tongue on his tensing muscles, her teeth scraping along his sensitive skin, and the way she sucked marks on his flesh made him moan softly. He knew he'd have those marks for a while, he wasn’t even planning on covering them up either, he’d probably cum looking at them as he thought of her like he always did.
He opened his eyes when he felt her fingers start to tug his boxers down. She was on her knees, pressing kisses to his hip bones, revealing more and more of his skin down to the dark patch of short hair and finally his cock. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, his eyes searching hers, begging her quietly for anything to bring him pleasure.
“What?” She murmured, lifting her hand up to graze her fingertips along his cock. He gasped, biting his lip, watching his cock bob slightly at the faint touch she gave him. “Dean?” She asked softly, wrapping her hand gently around his cock, her warm breath billowing over the tip of his cock, a bead of precum dripping down the tip. He nearly lost it when her eyes flickered down to see it, licking her lips at the sight before she gazed up at him again.
“Please, please,” he whined, “just do anything, I-” he moaned instead of completing his sentence, the feeling of her warm tongue licking at the tip closed up his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut. As fast as she put her mouth on him, she was pulling away which caused him to open his eyes, confusion pinching his brows together.
She leaned forward again, kissing the tip and moving her lips down to the base. His breath picked up again, his heart beating rapidly in his chest while his knees became weak.
He reached out to brush his fingers across her cheek, curling his fingers around the back of her neck, offering his cock to her mouth. Her stomach clenched watching him do it. Heat pooled between her legs as the hot tip of his cock lightly touched her lips and she opened her mouth to him. A loud moan rumbled in his chest causing her thighs to squeeze shut, aroused by the sounds he was making as she licked and sucked nearly all the way down.
Both hands grasped the side of her face, his thumbs caressing her soft cheeks as she drooled over his cock. She looked beautiful like this, he thought so as she hallowed her cheeks and pulled nearly all the way off to twirl her tongue around the head. She moved her head again, her tongue massaging beneath his cock, driving him crazier, the muscles in his stomach tensing when she hummed softly around him.
“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he praised, guiding her face back and forth, going deeper and deeper. His pace was slow, watching his cock slide in and out of her mouth, warm, wet, and glistening with her saliva. Her hands held his hips at first, before one moved to the base of his cock, twisting tightly while her other fingers teased his balls.
He moaned, feeling her throat constrict around his cock, watching her eyes water with tears, but there was no sign she wanted to stop. “I’m gonna… fuck, don’t stop,” he whispered, surprise replacing the fire of his orgasm when she pulled her mouth away from his cock completely. “Is something wrong?” He asked softly, letting her fingers wrap around his wrist as she got up to stand in front of him.
“Everything‘s fine,” she murmured with a smile, but Dean worriedly wiped her tears and leaned forward to kiss the mess around her mouth, his tongue lewdly cleaning up her saliva and his precum.
Her quiet laugh made him smile, his lips trailing down her jaw and neck when he realised she was answering honestly. He took his time savouring her skin beneath his tongue, worshipping the taste of her and sucking softly at her perfect skin, biting into her shoulder which made her hiss softly.
He guided her to sit on the bed, the bed they had shared while Daphne and Mallory shared the other. The bed he had jerked off in while she slept next to him, clueless that it was her that made him ejaculate faster than he ever had. His cock throbbed at the memory of her sleeping soundly next to him while he defiled her image in his head.
His fingertips tickled her sides in attempts to lift her crop top. His hot mouth was on her breasts, over the shirt he teased her nipples, turned on that she was braless. He silently thanked Daphne for dressing her tonight.
She arched her back, her chest rising and falling rapidly, matching her breaths and nearly her heartbeat as her clit throbbed, begging for attention. Unlike him, she didn’t beg when he experimented with her body. His hands eventually found their way beneath her shirt and he was lifting it up her body, throwing it carelessly to the side.
He admired her for a few moments, turned on by how she squirmed, her legs parting to fit his body between them. He knew she must be achingly wet, but he focused his attention on her breasts, cupping them in his hands and kneading them gently, watching her reactions closely. His mouth was back on her breasts, his tongue circling around her nipple, lapping at it teasingly, and finally sucking gently.
She bit her lip when his fingers mimicked the same care as his tongue on her other breasts. His thumb made gentle circles around the tightened bud, then he started to swipe his thumb across, and finally rolled it between his fingers. He was pleased with how she was squirming, practically grinding down on the bed as he became rougher, pinching and biting softly until she finally moaned for him.
He pulled away, pushing her back gently and impatiently tugged her skirt down her legs. His hands grabbed beneath her soft thighs once the skirt was off and thrown out of sight. He kissed his way up the inside of her thighs, his mouth watering at the sight of her glistening folds.
She lifted herself up on her elbows, her adorable eyes catching Dean’s. She observed the way he kissed the inside of her thighs, avoiding where she was currently dripping with need, all from sucking him off and hearing the sounds he made. She squirmed a little, hating the way he breathed against her pussy, never giving her any attention.
He bit his lip at the sight of her being impatient, he was a little amused by her narrowed eyes when he looked up at her. He gave in quickly, letting her feet rest on the bed with her knees bent. His tongue flicked at her clit, two of his fingers circling her entrance, causing him to moan upon feeling how slick his fingers became.
If there’s anyone he’d love to have his tongue shoved into, it would be her. He’d yearned for her touch for far too long. It was torture when she’d sleep next to him and somehow end up cuddled up next to him, well, practically laying on top of him sometimes. Even patching her up the few times she’d been hurt, when his fingers would brush against her soft skin, he felt the voltage of her skin driving him crazy.
He’s wanted to kiss her for far too long. His lips had tingled every time he thought of kissing her, yearning to be pressed against hers. When both her dad and his dad worked together on hunts, they did the hard work and forced him to babysit her.
She was irritated by him because she was just a year younger than Dean. He was always distracted from research when he watched her bite her lip, leaving it swollen and red, wishing it was him who made them look like that. Or the way her pretty hands fidgeted with the book, wishing they were somewhere on his body instead.
He had all that now.
He shoved one finger inside her tight walls, feeling her warmth and the texture of her walls. He kissed her clit and pressed more kisses along her folds, removing his finger to kiss her entrance, his tongue pushing gently inside her. Her gasps, the way she squirmed and fisted the sheets satisfied him. The taste of her exploded his taste buds, a moan of satisfaction vibrating against her cunt while his hands found her thighs again.
He squeezed the flesh of her thighs in his warm hands, tasting her arousal before finding her clit again and massaging it with his tongue. Her hands moved into his hair, gentle tugs at the soft strands turned him on, letting go of one of her legs to push his finger into her again, smoothly moving in and out, curled gently against her walls.
Her heavy breaths filled his ears, his name quietly falling from her lips made his stomach flip excitedly and he started to suck her clit into his mouth excitedly. The moan she let out was sinful. A second finger prodded at her entrance, gently stretching her open while her fingers tightened against his hair. He pushed in slowly, removing his mouth from her clit to watch his two fingers slowly being pumped into her.
“You’re so tight… Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered, her hips wiggling in response. He bit his lip, but the way she squirmed allowed his fingers to push forward all the way. “Good girl,” he said softly, kissing his way up her body until he found her lips again, keeping his fingers buried inside her and starting to scissor them. She gasped against his mouth, her legs twitching open as he tried to loosen her up.
“This was not supposed to be about me..” she murmured against his lips, moaning quietly as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, his tongue sensually rolling over hers. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, enjoying the way his thumb rubbed her clit in quick circles, his fingers still moving inside her before she started to push his hand away.
“I’m trying to get you ready…” he trailed off, sitting back on his legs, staring into her eyes as she followed him, sitting on his lap. “If my fingers can barely fit inside you,” he whispered, grasping her thighs tightly when her wet pussy rubbed over his cock, “how am I supposed to fit inside you?” He looked between their bodies, her hand attempting to wrap around his cock again, unable to fully fit her slim fingers around him.
“You’re so sweet,” she smiled at him. He blushed, staring into her eyes now, trying to keep them open with her hand tightening around him. She leaned forward to kiss him softly, his eyes fluttering close with her loving kiss, feeling his heart soar in his chest. The feeling of her kiss made him moan, his hips moving up impatiently. He was really missing out, he’d never felt this way when he kissed someone.
She chuckled softly against his mouth, moving off him while he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes slowly opened to watch her, a little confused when she started to move around him, settling behind him. He looked over his shoulder at her, “what are you doing?” He asked breathlessly, shivering as her warm breath blew against the back of his neck when she laughed softly.
“Something I’ve always wanted to do to you…” she murmured, she grasped his chin, turning him just a bit more to kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip before she pulled away. A little smirk tugged at her lips when his breath hitch. “Is that okay?” She asked, moving her hands down the front of his body, his head bowed down to watch her hands stop at his thighs.
“Sure, baby, whatever you want,” he replied, the muscles of his legs tensing. He shifted a little, sitting a little more comfortably and waited for her with anticipation, curiosity making him impatient. She dropped a kiss on his shoulder, his heart warming up with how loving and gentle she was while sitting behind him.
“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,” she said suddenly. His smile faded and he swallowed, looking back at her to make sure he heard her right. The innocent look on her face made him feel like she was hiding way too many dirty fantasies and he nodded immediately. “Good boy,” she praised offhandedly. He inhaled sharply at the praise, his hips rolling up into her hand, and it made her laugh softly.
She moved her hand up and down slowly. In his mind, Dean nervously hoped he could hold back his orgasm and not cum after all. Her hands felt too soft, her thumb circled around the head, and precum was already starting to gather until she swiped her fingers across blindly. He stared down at her hand, amazed and enchanted. He wanted to take control and force her to go faster, but he secretly wanted this.
He wanted to relax, to give in to her, and to lose himself in her teasing. He hadn’t been the one without control in so long that it was thrilling for him that she had even suggested it. Her of all people—quiet, reserved, and a little shy. He was clearly wrong about her and he always suspected that he was wrong about her, that she was far deeper and far kinkier than even he was.
In his fantasies, she was a sex goddess. For some reason, she was always the one with the upper hand. He had no idea what it was about her that made him think that, didn’t know if he somehow managed to figure her out in the midst of his horny thoughts or if it was simply his needs in the moment and happened to have been a coincidence that it’s true.
The slow pace and tight grip slowly built up his need, as if she were reading his mind, his stomach becoming taut and his breath turning deep and shallow. Her other hand started to move up his hip and his eyes widened, distracted for a few moments before she started to pump his cock faster.
And that feeling of pleasure nearly blinded him from her hand on his peck, her fingers tracing his nipple so he could hardly feel it. That was the case until she pinched it and he hissed, feeling a tingling sensation after and continuing to feel it as she brushed her finger against it.
He arched his back, his hips jutting out as he tried to even out his breaths, but her hand was moving away from his chest. It slid down again, moving down the middle to his soft tummy, which felt nice and for some reason it turned him on, a pathetic moan slipping past his lip.
She started to kiss the freckled skin of his back, his skin suddenly a million times sensitive. He closed his eyes tightly, enjoying the feeling of her all over him, a strangled moan nearly choking him when she reached under his cock and squeezed his balls gently. He whined again, opening his eyes to watch her small hands giving him pleasure, taking him straight to the edge.
He was pink and throbbing in her hand and he felt his stomach becoming tight, about to spill himself over her hand, only for her to suddenly let go of his cock and move her hand out from under him. There was an uncomfortable ebb of losing his orgasm and he panted, confused for a few seconds before remembering that he wasn’t allowed to cum until she gave him permission.
“When can I cum?” He whispered, looking over his shoulder. She smirked at him and he blushed looking forward almost instantly, feeling her move around behind him, her breasts against his back when she rested her chin on his shoulder.
“When you start to sound pretty,” she murmured into his ear, kissing down his neck and sucking a light mark. He groaned, a little frustrated by that because he wasn’t sure he could sound pretty, but also from enjoyment at the suction of her mouth on his skin. She wrapped her arms around his waist, leaving a few more marks down his clavicle and on his shoulder.
Her hands returned to his cock and Dean lost track of time as she denied him release over and over and over. He’d never felt so lost in the cloudy haze of lust and his body had never felt so sensitive. He felt like he could explode and he was unaware of the sounds that he let out at this point.
It was the pretty sounds that she’d been talking about. He was whining loudly, his back arched against her body, and his hands were fisting the sheets so tight he thought his nails might tear through them. He panted, sweaty and flushed when she let go of him again, the intervals of her teasing getting shorter because he was so close he didn’t need much more to cum.
He sounded pathetic, his hair sticking to his forehead, messy from her pulling it or from comforting him when he sobbed and whimpered, begging so endearingly for her to let him cum. And each time she would kiss him hard and hot, her tongue into his mouth, teeth clashing, and then she’d pull away to continue what she was doing to him.
It was torture, her pretty hands were slick and it was all from his precum, beads of it dribbled down her fist and between her fingers like when she’d held the condensing beer bottle. His cock was red and sensitive, throbbing painfully and harder beyond any other occasion he’d ever been in.
He wiggled in place, writhing in her hands, his hips thrusting up desperately into her fist until her other hand held him place. Her fingers dug into his hipbone and he whined loudly, leaning over and burying his face in the pillow to cry out, his toes curling from the overwhelming need to cum.
When he did that, she’d change the angle she fisted his cock with and the soft head of his cock would brush against the sheets and he nearly lost it, her hand coming up to swipe over and around the tip, and back down. She let his cockhead brush aginst the sheets, gently twisting her hand and putting extra attention under the head of his cook. He shoved her hands away when it became too much, burying his face deeper into the pillow to whimper.
She laughed behind him, watched his body fall flat on the bed with his hands under the pillow as he squeezed it against his sweaty and tearful face. His hips began grinding against the bed and he whimpered. She bit her lip, rubbing her clit with her wet fingers and then smacked his ass.
He wiggled his butt a little, she’d spanked him occasionally throughout the night and he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. He started to mumble something under the pillow and he lifted his hips up, keeping the top of his body down against the matters and she moaned quietly at his obedience.
“Please,” he begged breathlessly, turning his face to the side so he could speak, then his hand went to his cock and he started to jerk himself off slowly. He’d been babbling the whole night, saying partial sentences through grunts and moans, broken and interrupted words slipped out from between his pretty pink lips, but all that he could manage perfectly was ‘please’.
He felt better than drunk, better than high on drugs, he’d much rather be at her mercy like this every night. Even as his balls pulled tightly and his cock ached, he preferred this feeling above anything in the world. If he ever felt like this again, all he would feel is her, all he would be able to see is her, he’d only ever hear her, and always only taste her. He doubted anyone would take the time to make him feel like this, but she did and one part of his brain should have wondered where their friends were, but frankly even if he wasn’t delirious, he wouldn’t give a shit.
He’d let her edge him with them around—watching him, he’d beg to cum because he needed it. It was different now, the way he felt so safe and warm all over, like a pile of melted marshmallows and she was the fire. She stood up on her knees behind him and he prepared himself for her by letting go of his cock, not expecting the smack on his ass, but definitely preparing for a second one.
“You wanna come, D?” She asked with a grin, her hands moved up his hips and he pushed back against her, whining softly and nodding.
“Let me cum, please, I wanna cum so bad,” he whimpered, “need it so bad, please, please.” She grabbed his hair and tugged it roughly, squeezing her thighs together when he moaned out another plea to let him come, babbling words pouring from his mouth and into the pillow. It was muffled, but she could easily make out the words now, her hand moved between his legs and he gasped when she started to tug at his cock quickly, mercilessly pumping his sensitive penis.
She watched the muscles in his back become taut and tense, it was like art and the freckles frosted over his sweet skin only added to his beauty. She licked her lips and her hand landed on his ass again, the sting of it making him groan. When she rubbed the red skin, he let out a little mew that left her slick down her thighs. After another slap on his ass, a more pathetic sound was pulled out of him. She could hear it clearly because he moved his face to the side again in order to breathe.
“You’re so good for me, Dean,” she praised, and he eyed her with pretty wide eyes, his pretty eyelashes sticking together from actual tears of not being able to cum. “Look at you, baby, you’re so beautiful, so pretty,” she told him breathlessly, squeezing his cock and he moaned.
“Wanna be inside you,” he begged, “wanna be inside you when I cum, please.” He started to wiggle a little and she let go of his cock, letting him sit up, making her way around him and let him pull her into his lap. He kissed her softly with an iron grip on her hips, but he didn’t make another move, just let her know his needs, but otherwise gave her control over whether or not she’d let him finally cum.
As he’d unfortunately suspected, she wasn’t going to give in to him just yet, but at least he could see her now. He’d wondered how she gazed at him the whole time she was torturing him, but when she broke the kiss, the hungry look in her eyes kept him still and in the same needy headspace. He liked it.
He liked the way her lust was entwined perfectly with tenderness, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone, a soft smile on her kiss-swollen lips. He leaned into her touch, his heart beating fast and loud in his ears, his cheeks red and shiny from sweat. His green eyes were clear, pupils dilating when looking into hers, his lips plump and soft, lashes still damp. He truly looked beautiful. More so than usual.
He admired her in return, taking in the flush on her cheeks and how captivated she looked when she gazed at him. Her lips were pulled between her teeth, her eyes trailing over his sweaty, freckled body to admire every inch of him. Even scrutinised under her gaze, his cock twitched, as if wanting her attention as well, and it did catch her attention which furthered his embarrassment.
He swallowed, his throat dry from all his pathetic and uncontrolled breathing. She lifted herself a little and kissed his forehead, he smiled softly, grateful and floaty when her lips moved down his face and to the other side, down his nose, to his cheeks and finally a kiss on his lips again.
He moaned against her mouth, still feeling distracted by how hard he was. She moved her lips down his neck, not caring that his skin was salty when she licked up the column of his throat. He shuddered, squirming delightfully when her teeth grazed his pulse, a little bite making him moan again.
He felt her smirk against his skin, felt himself struggle not to whine and whimper like a whore, her hands flat on his chest. She used her teeth and tongue over his clavicle, really making things impossible for him when she licked and nibbled at his nipples. He never thought he’d enjoy it, but he was hypersensitive everywhere at this point, and the strange pleasure that sent jolts down to his throbbing cock only made him more desperate and horny.
She was making her way down his stomach, licking the light outline of his abs, and sucking marks on his hip bones. He slowly lowered himself onto his back, gasping when she breathed against his cock, but she pulled away and like he’d been doing all night, he begged for her return. His words jumbled but she understood what he was asking, she just ignored him, took both his hands and kissed his wrists, right on his pulse.
It was so fucking romantic, he felt himself turn red and his heart swooned. Even when she put his hands on her breasts, guiding him to move his fingers and tease her nipples in similar ways she’d done to him. He pulled himself out of the daze to give her a little something, anything. He just wanted to make her feel good too, even if he just wanted to plunge his dick into her, he kept his hips down and squeezed her breasts roughly.
His thick fingers tweaked and pinched each nipple, budding them and watching them tighten under his gaze. His lips parted and he whined at her, silently asking for her to let his mouth do the work. She laughed through her nose, leaning over him so he could wrap his lips around her nipple, a little purr vibrating through her chest when the pleasure intensified with the heat of his mouth, little suck, and gentle scrapes of his teeth.
She stroked the side of his face, rocking her hips against his, his aching cock finally getting a feel of how hot and wet she was. Her soaked pussy slid along his cock and he gasped, her nipple falling out of his mouth, but she squeezed his cheeks painfully in one small hand, her brows rising. It was a little threat that he nodded at and then took her other nipple into his mouth, moaning rather loudly.
She panted, leaning one arm beside his head and cupping the back of his neck with her other. Both of his hands grasped her hips, somewhat guiding her movements. It was the most control he’s had all night and he was enjoying it. When he bent his knees, feeling more desperate, she moved her chest away, seemingly pleased when she cupped her breasts and rubbed her thumbs over her glistening nipples.
It was so hot, but she lifted her hips slightly over his so he wouldn’t rub himself against her anymore. He purposely took his cock at the base and started to slide the spongey, leaking tip through her folds, a gasp leaving both their lips when he started on her clit and moved down. He worked his hips upwards, focusing on her clit and then moved down to her weeping entrance, finding it so easy to slip the head inside her and his breath stuttered at the feeling of her hot walls clenching tightly around the head of his cock.
“Hey, I didn’t say you could do that, did I?” She asked, moving away from him, sitting on her legs and squeezing her thighs together because she really enjoyed it. He shook his head apologetically and looked away a little ashamed. She smiled at him, a little wicked smile that made him shift anxiously, his hands awkwardly playing with the sheets. “It’s okay, you’ve been good all night, D,” she reassured him, leaning down to kiss his cheek and his jawline.
“I’ll keep being good, I’m sorry, baby,” he apologised, his eyes wide and puppy-ish. She smiled at him, her eyes softening. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, thoughtfully tapping at his lower lip.
“Wanna make it up to me?” She asked innocently, to which he nodded fervently. Instead of telling him what to do, she threw her legs over his waist and he waited patiently for her to move. When she started to crawl up his body, his cock throbbed, bobbing with excitement at the very sight of her slick folds.
She wiggled her hips, letting them hover above his mouth teasingly. She waited with a smirk until he whined to drop her hips onto him. Her pussy silenced his whine and he moaned instead, his hands squeezing her ass roughly, pulling her down onto his mouth harder, his tongue finally tasting her again.
Her arousal coated his lips and she gasped, screwing her eyes shut when he sucked down her swollen clit. Now he knew how turned on she was, the sweet and slightly tangy taste of her slick lit fireworks on his taste buds once again. He greedily swallowed the mixture of her juices and his saliva, his mouth watering, practically drooling over her cunt.
She held onto the headboard, moaning when he shoved his tongue into her pussy, the short muscle wiggling inside her warm cunt and sliding out so hotly she reached down to take handfuls of his hair and started to tug as gently as she could.
Her hips undulated against his face, his nose rubbing against her clit and now she was controlling him again. Reminding him constantly that she still had the upper hand, particularly when she said things to him like, “you have such a fuckable face, D.” She was out of breath and he looked up at her from between her legs, whining loudly when he saw her with her back arched and her head tipped back in pleasure. “Make me cum, D, be a good boy and make me cum all over your face.”
When he nodded, his tongue slipped out of her and his nose brushed quickly over her clit, making her moan out his name. He wanted to grab his cock and relieve some of the pent up frustration but instead, he easily plunged two fingers into her wet hole and sloppily started to scissor them inside her.
He sucked her clit into his mouth, lapped at her stretched entrance, and watched her squirm above him. Her hips still moved against his face, but this time, she alternated between fucking herself on his fingers and letting his mouth do it’s job on her clit. It drove him crazy how hedonistic she was when she’d languidly pleasured him the whole night. If she rode his cock this desperate and fast, he wouldn’t last much longer.
When he pulled his fingers out, she whined. His stomach tightened and his cock bobbed, frantic for attention and throbbing for her weeping cunt. She shifted her hips a little and let go of the headboard, her hand instead moving behind her and flat on his sweaty chest while she began using his mouth to get off. She moaned wantonly, her lips parted, and he became thrilled when he recognised that this was her I’m close face.
“Dean,” she moaned, “I love your mouth,” she gasped, “so good for me.” He moaned in response, starting to suck her clit roughly which made her tense up, a strangled moan tearing its way through her as she orgasmed. She rode his face until her orgasm subsided and then she moved off his face, sitting on her legs again, her clit still throbbing.
He stared at her in awe, gazed at her now that she came and she looked right at him with a similar look on her face. She’d never done anything like that before and she was sure Dean had single-handedly ruined all men for her on her first time. There was never gonna be someone who was this good at sex and she really didn’t want to try putting herself out there to verify that information. She wanted Dean all to herself, but she kept that possessive thought to herself.
“Oh, you’re a mess, D,” she murmured, staring at the slick around his mouth and on his nose. He shrugged, watched her lean down and his lips parted, ready for her kiss which she gave him. She moaned against his mouth, licking against his soft tongue without a care in the world that she could taste herself or that she was smearing the same slick over her own mouth.
She pulled away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking her discarded shirt to clean his mouth with tenderness in her touch and eyes.
“Can I cum now? I need you so bad, Y/N,” he asked timidly. He sat up and shoved the pillows away to take their place, not caring that one landed on the floor. His cock was a furious red colour, standing up straight and resting rigidly against his tummy, leaving it sticky with his precum.
“Want me to ride you?” She asked, staring at him with a little smile.
“Yes, I want you on my dick,” he moaned softly.
“Let me have a taste…” she murmured, lowering herself so she could be levelled with his erect penis. He cursed softly under his breath, catching her licking her lips before her hot mouth overwhelmed his cock with pleasure. His hand instinctively moved to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. Her tongue licked up his precum, moaning at the taste of him and taking him into her mouth.
She bobbed her head, taking more and more of him each time and then stopped before he could reach her throat. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, nearly pulling off and then moving back down, drool coated his cock and she pulled away completely with a loud pop.
He thought that was it, when she started to move between his legs, but instead she took him in her mouth again, but instead started to take him deeper. His breath stuttered with each extra inch of him that she took.
He gathered her hair and stared at her in amazement, nearly hitting his head a little too hard against the wall at the feeling of her throat constricting around him. He grunted, not really knowing if he wanted to yank her hair and kiss her senseless or if he wanted to fuck her mouth fast and hard. He whined when her nose was pressed against his pelvis, her warm breath coming in and out through her nose with great skill, but he didn’t dwell on it when he felt himself move in and out of her throat.
“Holy fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, trying very hard to keep his hips still and failing miserably when he started to thrust up into her mouth, but it was her final attempt at torturing him and when his balls drew up, his stomach becoming rigid with the close proximity of his orgasm, she pulled her mouth off him all the way and licked her lips while smirking at him. “Please, why?”
“Because,” she started, sitting in his lap, “I want you to finish inside me.” His breath hitched at her words, looking down between their bodies and observing how she guided his dick to her entrance the way he had done earlier.
He didn’t even have to whine, whatever sentence he’d started to form in attempts to convince her to let him cum died on his tongue when she lowered herself all the way down. Slowly and easily from how soaked she was, she sat herself down on his lap and his hands found a way to ground him to reality by resting on her hips tightly.
She continued to drip around him, finding the way he effortlessly glided in and out of her so ridiculously hot. She rested her hands on his chest to help keep her steady as she bounced on his lap, ignoring the feeling of her thighs burning from her efforts because of how good it felt when her clit pressed against his pelvic bone.
She looked at him before he could manage to get his heavy eyes open, both becoming entranced by each other like the sun had peaked through dark rain clouds and rays of sunlight revealed the truth to them. They were truly looking at one another, seeing the person who was making all these feelings and emotions intensify impossibly. It was intimate, the way suddenly it wasn’t about getting off, but about having each other and feeling good while they were vulnerable.
He lifted his hips up, meeting her hips each time, only after sharing a soft and passionate kiss, did he close his eyes again. He relished in the feeling of her around him, in the way she held him close with the fingers of one of her hands buried in the short hair at the back of his head. Her palm rested over his heartbeat, nearly following the rapid beat each time their hips met, and he felt so warm.
It was a new feeling that nearly terrified him into stopping, but she’d kissed that fear away, her lips moving against his distractingly so that he forgot he wanted to run before she realised he wasn’t good enough. Before he fell harder only for her to abandon him like everyone else had. He couldn’t go through that again, but the way she sank her teeth into his lower lip and tugged with a little moan made him forget what he was thinking about.
“Fuck,” he groaned, completely blindsided by his orgasm. He only felt her pull away from his lips to look at him when he spilled inside her. The warmth of it made her shudder and she kissed him again, muffling his moan with a rough kiss. She pulled away when her walls spasmed around him, his cum oozing out of her and mixing with hers. He grunted her name and gazed at her tiredly when she rode out her orgasm, his name quietly falling from her lips.
She cursed quietly, placing her forehead on his shoulder and moved her hands back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and enjoying the warmth of her body against his, for as long as it lasted. He kissed the side of her head, gently tracing her skin, trying not to think about anything negative.
He wasn’t sure he could make himself stop thinking, not when he felt her relax in his arms. The silence that fell over them didn’t help either, but what was he supposed to say? He didn’t exactly plan on this happening, not with her, and he knew she didn’t plan for this to happen either. Even if they had fantasies about it happening, now that it had, what were they gonna say? Where would they go from here?
He doubted she would even want anything to do with him. He shifted beneath her, his anxiety getting the best of him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he said softly, brushing her hair away from her face and kissing her cheek. He didn’t really wanna talk about it, but he knew he’d have to at some point because he cared about her a lot more than he ever would for some random lay.
He grunted softly when she moved off him, but she seemed to sense that something was up with him. “Dean,” she laughed softly, trying to ease the tension that built up. He looked up at her innocently, a blush blazing its way up his face when she took his chin in her hand and kissed him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She had to ask.
He leaned in to kiss her and shook his head, “nothing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but kissed him back anyway, getting off the bed. He followed her lips and only pulled away when she let go of his face. Her little laugh made his face soften, but fear nagged at his heart and made it flutter.
He breathed to calm himself, building up his walls and getting ready to act casual, as if she were any other woman he’d take to his room. It failed miserably, when he got up and followed her into the bathroom, and saw her cleaning herself with a towel. She blushed when she saw him, freezing with the towel between her legs.
He apologised, but she smiled, and he stayed to clean himself.
He dared to look in the mirror, watched her wash her hands after dumping the towel, her hair dishevelled sexily, similar to what his own hair looked like now. It felt so domestic. So… like everything he secretly wished he could have instead of being a hunter, like all those policed dreams and secret wishes he’d never allow himself to dwell on because it hurt so bad that he couldn’t have it. He wasn’t allowed to.
But she tore all that up, with her compassion and her determination, her dedication to being there for him and indulging his inner-child without complaints. She didn’t stop him from doing something he wanted to do, even if it was childish. She listened to him, to all his sad thoughts and all the things he was passionate about. She was home. He could be himself, happy, sad, whatever it was he could just bare his soul to her and she’d treat every ounce of it with tenderness and love.
After every bad case, she’d be there to caress and comfort his soul, and after every good day, she’d celebrate with him. When his father and her father went off to do the killing and left the two of them together, she’d help him do research, he’d teach her to cook when they had nothing to do, and he took her out to get ice cream because even she got tired of being indoors. And every time there was an event in the city or town they were in, she’d surprise him and take him there to experience it.
It’s like they’ve been together forever, not just as friends, but as lovers. Neither of them dared to speak of what was going on between them, both were too scared the magic would fade because of their fear of what would happen once they acknowledged it. This was different to him, he had friends that he cared about nearly as much as he cared about Y/N, he’d do all that with them, but it was different with her.
When he looked at his few close friends in utter adoration, it was different from when he looked at her, and he died a little inside all those times people teased him for looking so in love with his friends, thinking she could see it too. It made him wonder if she knew how he felt somehow and just didn’t make a move because she didn’t feel the same, or if she took the way he looked at her and thought that’s how he looks at his friends too, because it simply wasn’t true.
She was it for him. He put all his friends on a pedestal and he was painfully loyal to them, he’d die for them and he’d fall apart if he ever lost them, but if he ever lost her, he just wouldn’t survive a second more, even if Sam were still here.
“I’m gonna put something on,” she announced, her voice coming out gently. He nodded at her and stared at himself for a few moments before being absorbed into his thoughts again. Would she wait for him to finally not be afraid? Could he ask that of her? He wanted her, he needed her in his life, felt more affection for her than any other person in his life and he knew he’d never love anyone that intensely.
He doesn’t ever meet people that stick around long enough for him to find that out, but with her. How could he not? How could he not be in love with her when they are so similar and yet so different? It was the perfect balance, at least he thought so. She was always there to pick him up and always there when he was happy. She’d seen the ugliest parts of him and she’d stayed by his side after all of it.
They shared a million things together, both new and old, and he knew what he had with her was far more than friendship because of how many times his dreams were plagued with her being the one he’s with. When he’d read books out of boredom in secret, if they happened to have romances, he’d always picture her and himself and feel so pathetic for doing so.
His most favourite thing to imagine was that she was Penelope and he was Odysseus, that she’d love only him despite a million suitors throwing themselves at her. That no matter how much more stable, normal, and good looking they were, it was him she wanted. He imagined that she’d wait for him just as long and yearn for him for ages, just to see him, to be with him. If she’d actually do that, he didn’t know.
He stepped into the room again and saw her wearing his baby blue flannel. He stopped again to admire her, with her hair in a messy ponytail, strands falling randomly down her face while she looked in her bag for something. Her teeth pulled at her lower lip and her brows were drawn together in focus. All of this really reminded him of times when his mother was trying to look for something while his dad just admired her, and it hurt.
“What are you looking for?” He asked, watching her relax and smile up at him. She moved a strand out of her face and her hand fell on her thigh loudly.
“My phone,” she laughed breathlessly, “did I leave that in the car?” She wondered to herself, her eyes only then flickering down to his dick. He looked down at himself and with a blush, he started to get dressed, slipping on his boxers and jeans.
“I’ll go check, sweetheart,” he took his keys and she thanked him quietly. He smiled and kissed the top of her head before heading out, his boots stomping on the ground the whole way to his car. He heard her phone ring a few times and easily found it under the passenger seat, lighting up with Daphne’s name. “Shit,” he muttered, answering quickly.
“Babe,” she slurred.
“It’s Dean,” Dean cleared his throat and chuckled, stepping out of his car he heard Daphne choke a little over the phone.
“Still applies,” she teased. There was a long pause and Dean became concerned. “Did you two finally fuck?” She whispered before Dean could say anything and this time Dean nearly choked, a blush crawling up his face.
“No,” he said unconvincingly, crossing an arm over his chest.
“Oh, my God! You did!” She shouted and he cringed, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Finally, you’re both so in love!” She said a little more quietly.
“N-No, we’re not,” he stuttered, rolling his eyes.
“Dean, be fucking for real,” she scolded, “her eyes literally light up like a million stars when she looks at you and you do the same. Trust me, I know,” she said matter-of-factly. Her words made his stomach do flips, both enjoying the prospect that she looked at him with love in her eyes and also hating that he was so obvious about his feelings towards her. “Anyway, please pick us up,” she whined, breaking him from his thoughts.
“Us?” Dean wondered, confused about who this other person was.
“Yeah! It’s an old friend from highschool. She’s awesome and Y/N misses her so bad!”
“Uh, right. We’ll be there in a few.” Dean shrugged and looked confused still.
“Thanks! Bye!” She hung up and he laughed, finally making his way back to the room, where Y/N was now wearing some jeans and a pink sweater. He could easily tell she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath and it turned him on, especially after finding out she may have the same feelings towards him after all.
“Daph called your phone, we need to pick her up,” he told her, handing her the phone. She smiled, thanking him again and reaching out to take it only for him to tug her into him. She looked at him with confusion, but didn’t fight when he kissed her again, his lips soft and the kiss gentle. He felt her relax in his arms again, her kiss turning just as loving as his before he pulled away, his thumbs stoking her cheeks. “If my dad finds out I had sex with you, he’s going to kill me,” Dean said suddenly and she laughed from how unexpected it was to hear him say that.
“He doesn’t need to know…” she trailed off, smiling deviously, “and if he does find out, he better get used to it because we’re doing that again.” He smirked at her words, still cupping her face in his hands and leaning down to kiss her, making it last longer than before to pour his love into it.
“Let’s go pick them up first, and then round two,” he murmured, pecking her lips. She smiled against his mouth and reciprocated the chaste kiss.
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pagannatural · 2 months
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1.21 Salvation
-John finally, after some 22 years, lets his sons in on his plans and shows them everything he’s got on the demon that killed their mom and Jess.
-John is such a good character. I’m not really interested in liking or disliking him, I just love his part in this story. He reacted to an unimaginable situation in a human way. Who among us can say, really, how we would parent two small children if our wife was brutally murdered on the ceiling by a demon who then burned down our entire house? John truly thought the whole world was a war zone so he made his kids soldiers rather than getting them to safety. To understand John you have to understand that Safe and Normal as concepts were destroyed for him. He wanted to protect his boys so badly that he tried to prepare them and toughen them and train them but he also wanted to shield them so he hid as much as he could from them. He taught them that people were dying and they were responsible for stopping it. He put all of that on their way-too-young shoulders all while refusing to trust them or let them in.
Under all that pressure, Sam and Dean created their own world, their bubble of safety with each other. They give each what they need in the most vital and fundamental sense, nourishing each other in a hostile environment. They share something that no one else could ever understand.
So thanks, John.
-“It’s not your problem, it’s our problem” is an objectively kind and supportive thing to say so I’m proud of Dean for managing to shout it angrily at Sam. Such passion such energy
-Sam looks like a little kid this whole scene where Dean and John are arguing about parenting him. Dean stands up to John again and defends himself. He’s Sam’s daddy now (sorry)
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-John tells Sam “I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home” which is hilarious to me because it implies that he thinks of Dean as a homeless man (which he is).
Dean glances at Sam when John says this and then hangs his head. Sam is his home. And he feels responsible for Sam leaving school (which he is).
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-In the car Sam tells Dean “I want to thank you” but the you comes out as “ya”. This happens another time when Sam tells Dean “I still love you” (or something close to that) in s5e11. It’s unusual for Sam. He doesn’t ya his you’s regularly at the end of a sentence. Jared and Jensen both have typical midwestern accents on the show. Jared intentionally changes his speech pattern when he’s possessed, so that words like “wasn’t” or “doesn’t” are enunciated when normally Sam pronounces it like “wud’n” or “dud’n” with a very soft “d.”
Point being, something is causing Sam to shy off of saying these things and making them sound too serious so he says “I want to thank ya” which sounds more casual. When he’s lost in emotion (like later when he throws Dean against a wall and says “don’t you say that”), he enunciates his you’s. I think this is unintentional of Sam and intentional of Jared. Sam’s trying not to scare Dean off or sound too confessional- he’s seen how Dean reacts to that.
-Sam says “even when I couldn’t count on anyone”
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Dean gave him consistency and safety and the knowledge that he was always loved. Dean’s his sanctuary.
-Dean says the house is “burning to the ground, it’s suicide”
“I don’t care” “I do”
Sam is reckless. He has a safe place to land, so he often acts without really thinking through the consequences, and Dean is always there for him. This is the THIRD house fire Dean has protected Sam from. Interesting that Sam asked Jessica, his Dean replacement, “what would I do without you?” in ep1 and she said “crash and burn.” Actually that’s what you would do without Dean :)
-Sam says killing the demon is “all we’ve ever cared about” he doesn’t realize that Dean has always cared more about him than about revenge or justice or whatever else. Dean would rather have Sam. Wild that Sam doesn’t know he’s Dean’s top priority yet. I wonder if he knew that pre-Stanford?
-Sam gets angry when Dean says they can’t bring Jessica or their mom back. It mirrors Dean slamming Sam against the wall in ep1 when he told Dean their mom is never coming back. Sam’s anger melts as soon as Dean speaks and he ends up just kind of grasping Dean’s shirt and pressing into him with this desperate look on his face. They look at each other’s mouths.
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-Dean is accepting of Sam grabbing him and throwing him against a wall, just like Sam handles it in s2 when Dean punches him in the face. They have no normal way to express how intensely they feel about each other so it comes out as violence or care when one is injured. Love and need and pain are inextricable between them- they love each other in ways that are painful. So they just submit to each other like Yes, finally something that feels strong enough. It’s like it’s soothing to express and receive each other’s needs, even as pain. It has to come out somehow.
-Dean says that the three of them are all he has and “sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together” Dean doesn’t let himself fall apart, and he wants to fall apart with Sam here, begging Sam to be careful with his life, to understand that he needs Sam. He’s saying Please don’t get hurt, I need you, I’m falling apart.
Sam could kiss him right now. Dean’s not holding it together enough to try pushing Sam away or protecting him from their feelings.
-Dean says “without you and dad, I-” and I think that Dean obviously loves and cares about John but the real issue is that he couldn’t say “without you, I-” on network television because they would have just made out. The mention of their dad brings Sam back to himself. He turns away from Dean and lets go of him with what looks like some effort. Dean looks lost and he’s also still tilting his head up with his lips parted looking like Sam didn’t kiss him. Sam asks him to call John.
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-This parallels when Dean told Sam to call Sarah in 1x19. Dean calls even though he’s still emotionally involved in the conversation with Sam and didn’t finish what he was saying. He’s just admitted something that was difficult for him, and Sam reacted by pulling away, distancing himself, exactly as Dean did when Sam admitted Jessica isn’t the main reason he’s not interested in anyone.
I’m a John-would-kill-Dean truther if he found out about anything untoward going on between his boys, so the mention of their Dad and the fact that he’s in danger would absolutely make Sam force himself away from Dean.
This specific dynamic of Sam pleading with Dean for something and Dean surrendering brokenly to Sam in a Please give it to me Please just take it loop where neither is willing to act makes me want to chew on my own ribcage.
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thedaythatwas · 20 days
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TW: Hegel.
So, what’s up with Shuake and dialectics? Click below to watch this user (who is not a philosopher) give this (frankly too invested) analysis a shot!
Something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is the fact that most– but not all– of Joker’s confidant routes involve some sort of transaction. Joker does something for someone, Joker gets a favor in return. Joker’s identity revolves around what he can do for others. He’s got a different mask (haha game mechanic is narrative device etc.) for everyone in his life. 
Getting a little bit in my head about this led me to a (not-all-that-novel) realization: Akechi’s confidant route is largely non-transactional. Sure, he says that he wants to meet with you to talk about the Phantom Thieves, but that more or less directly translates to just wanting to hang out with you. The “favor” that you're doing for Akechi, if we follow the logic of some of the other confidant routes, is spending time with him. (Which is of course also about getting close to Joker for metaverse recon purposes… But I’d argue that amounts to more or less the same thing in the long run anyway). Really, that’s what your relationship with him is, up until you realize the heart he needs you to change is actually one of the big-bads of the game. And at that point… Well… 
Where am I going with this? I’ve also been thinking a lot about Hegel (I’ve seen some really fun posting about Akechi and Hegel on here this past week– thank you philosophy P5R tumblr!). Akechi’s paraphrasing of Hegel goes a little something like “advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.” Hilariously, this is how he frames his desire to talk to you more, his flirting is just like me forreal I understand him etc. etc. BUT! The interesting thing here is that the game is cueing you to view your relationship with Akechi through the lens of Hegel’s dialectics.
More on that to follow, but first, I want to plug the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy’s page on Hegel’s Dialectics here– If you haven’t used it before, SEP is a reliable, peer-reviewed source. It’s great. I use it like. All the time. It’s good for getting the gist of big ideas when you don’t have time to read full texts. (Also if I get any of this wrong please know that philosophy is not my field and I’m totally open to constructive criticism.)
Hegel’s dialectical process revolves around three key moments: the moment of understanding, the dialectical moment, and the speculative moment. These moments can also be referred to as thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. The moment of understanding, thesis, is the point at which an idea is seemingly stable. In the dialectical moment, antithesis, this idea “sublates” itself– the idea is challenged and destabilized because an inherent contradiction in the idea has been made apparent–importantly, part of the idea is preserved. The speculative moment, synthesis, negates the contradiction. A new idea takes form, containing elements of the original idea that was sublated (Marx’s theory of history, anyone?) 
This process continues on and on. Ideas naturally reveal their contradictions, are destabilized, and resolve their contradictions through the creation of a new idea, which is challenged again. This is because the dialectical moment does not come from outside an idea. Antithesis is not an external push against thesis, but rather, the moment when thesis is forced into instability because of its own tightly-bound restriction. 
So back to what I was saying. The game kicks off your relationship with Akechi with a nod to, uh, all of that. Could this be a throwaway comment? Of course! But it’s much more fun to work under the assumption that it isn’t. So bear with me. Akechi is framing himself and Joker as thesis and antithesis. What does that mean? Why do I think it has something to do with Akechi and Joker’s relationship being non-transactional?
Previously, I’ve thought that in the context of their relationship, Akechi represented thesis, and Joker antithesis. This isn’t exactly true (at least per the criteria above) but I do think I was on the right track. 
At the beginning of his story, we can think of Akechi’s worldview as thesis. The world is a stage, and he is a performer. His entire life is dedicated to destroying Shido. It’s a key narrative element of P5 that Akechi doesn’t have confidant relationships (as contrasted by Joker, who has many confidants and becomes stronger through building up those bonds). He views himself as deceiving literally everyone in his life for his goals– his “fans,” his father, the Phantom Thieves. He doesn’t trust, because to him, trust is failure. 
Still, he’s starving for approval, and not just from Shido. You can see the inherent conflict between his desires and beliefs in just about every interaction he has with Joker, particularly those where Akechi overshares about his past. He desperately wants someone to hear him. I don’t think his (primary) aim in that was to strategically win Joker’s trust by showing vulnerability– if that was all he was going for, I doubt Akechi would have been so honest. He omitted information, sure, but he gave Joker the honest-to-god broad strokes of his childhood.  
When Joker comes into his life, Akechi comes to realize that his stable worldview might be wrong. Watching Joker and the rest of the Phantom Thieves reveals the cracks in his own internal logic. Joker has friendships and he is stronger because of them. When Akechi sacrifices himself for the Phantom Thieves on Shido’s ship, we see his moment of synthesis. If Akechi really still internalized all of what he said in his “Teammates? Friends? To hell with that!” monologue, he wouldn’t trust Joker to change Shido’s heart in his stead. To be clear– he probably would have reached this point with or without Joker’s intervention. Joker just happens to push Akechi towards self-sublation a little bit faster.
In Royal, we see a new iteration of Akechi. He doesn’t really regret his actions, and he is still very distinctly Akechi, but we can see that his original perception of the world has made a shift. He is willing to team up with Joker. While he may not place a great deal of faith in all of the PTs, he certainly has real trust in the protagonist. He’s learned that he can be recognized (dare I say loved?) without being perfect, and accordingly, his driving desire for approval has been displaced by his desire to never be so completely under anyone else’s control again.
But ok— that’s kind of an old take. Perhaps a hotter one: I’d also like to propose that Akechi does the same for Joker. 
As mentioned above, Joker’s identity for most of the game is defined by what he can do for the people around him. While a large part of this has to do with the fact that he is a playable character, this is a game, and a game needs to have things for you to do– it wouldn’t be very fun otherwise– it also seems pretty clear that this is part of his characterization. Joker is selfless to a fault. Like Akechi, he is a wildcard who can take on multiple personas. Unlike Akechi, instead of having a handful of personas directly linked to the core of his character development, Joker has as many personas as you want him to. He literally has a mask for every situation. You can equip a persona of the correct arcana to level up your relationships faster– a game mechanic, but also, an interesting meta statement about how Joker bonds with his confidants.
In Royal, however, Joker has the option to do something for himself. His greatest wish isn’t for someone else's happiness– it’s to have Akechi back, for selfish reasons, I would argue. Joker can sacrifice reality to keep him in his life, and depending on the actions you choose to take, sometimes, he does.
Loving Akechi teaches Joker to be selfish. This is especially poignant when you think of how adamantly opposed Akechi is to staying in Maruki's reality. Giving up the true reality to keep Akechi is a wholly selfish act on Joker's part, nothing altruistic about it. And if he doesn't make that choice? Well, don't forget about how Joker spent his wish.
He would have learned how to do this without Akechi– one tends to realize that neverending self-sacrifice is unsustainable sooner rather than later. Again, Akechi just pushes Joker towards effecting that self-sublation a little faster.
By spending time with Joker, Akechi learns that there are people he can truly trust. By spending time with Akechi, Joker learns how to put himself first. Their confidant relationship from this perspective is not only transactional, it’s actually one of the most transactional relationships in the game. Joker actively impacts how Akechi sees himself and the world around him, and vice versa. Their relationship is profoundly transformative for the both of them. To paraphrase Akechi, advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.
But also, we can forget dialectics for a second. Even without a fun analytical lens, Akechi’s confidant route centers two misunderstood people who find understanding in each other. That’s enough for me!
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kiss-like-a-bruise · 8 months
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for @wincestwednesdays september 2023 flash challenge
Lost:
pretend cousins and empty goodbyes - nowhere_blake
Summary: Oh, she believes they grew up together, no problem. She even believes the fire. But she'll be damned if those two are actually related. Deputy Kathleen Hudak is not blind, thank you very much.
Coda to 01x15 The Benders.
they were each other's toxic cure called codependency - nowhere_blake
Summary: Mary’s back, Dean is gone and Sam stops sleeping. She thought she understood how deep her boys' relationship goes, but when Michael takes over and Dean disappears, she needs to reevaluate just exactly how scarily codependent the two of them are.
Coda to 14x01 Stranger in a Strange Land.
Begging:
Unanswered Prayers - writinginthesecrettrees
Summary: John drops to his knees and prays to every god he’s ever heard of that Dean will somehow not notice the heavy lidded looks sent through the rearview mirror.
They're All They've Ever Had - heart_attackles
Summary: Letter from John to Bobby describing his feelings about Sam and Dean's relationship.
Rec notes: John begs Bobby to try and understand the boys.
Radio:
Old Roads and Rolling Stones - brokenlittleboy
Summary: Sam and Dean decide to take a break and go on a road trip, during which they fall in love and listen to classic rock.
Radio Song - azephirin
Summary: I meant to turn it off, to say goodbye, to leave in quiet….
Rec notes: Sam has a time slot on college radio.
Buried:
Permission - Lochinvar
Summary: Sam figures out what he wants. Takes Dean 20 years to say yes.
Rec notes: Snowed into the Bunker.
Day Seven: Stuck Someplace Together in Winter - Noname109
Summary: Dean and Sam are driving to get to a hunt through . . . which state again? The snow starts to pile up, but they don't think anything of it until they're buried under four feet of it. Sitting pressed up against each other isn't doing the trick of warming their bodies. Dean lets a secret slip.
Withdrawal:
Do You Approve? - orphan_account
Summary: Sam and Dean have been trying to hide their relationship from Mary since she arrived back in their lives. But there's only so long they can stay away from each other. What will happen when she finds out?
Rec notes: Sam withdraws from Dean after Mary finds out about them.
No one dared - sparklingice Summary: Sam tells Dean he's going to Stanford and thinks that will soothe the pain he feels, but it just deepens the wound and makes it bleed.
"Sam tells him in the driest dirthole of their freakshow of a summer, Gila Bend, AZ. "Where solar panels outnumber people." Freakin’ hilarious. It’s 105° and sunny, clashing with Sam’s general idea of a werewolf case so hard he just wants to let the fucker stay out here if it so wishes, let it burn down to embers under this goddamn desert fireball."
Rec notes: Sam and Dean struggle with the pain of separating after Sam's decision to leave for Stanford.
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toytanks · 6 days
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You asked for billford prompts. Could i request something of them meeting while ford is on the run in the multiverse? Maybe them meeting while bill is possessing someone and ford doesnt realize at first that its him.
done!! i got a little carried away so its a bit bill heavy haha 😅 read on ao3 here!
So here Bill was, minding his own business, actually doing something good for once (he knows, lame, right?) and of course Stanford “dreamboat” Pines had to show up and ruin his fun the one time Bill didn’t want his Fordsy around.
See, how it started was Py and the guys told him they were ‘worried’ and ‘concerned’ and ‘wanted to know if he was okay’ and all that performative stuff. Apparently he hadn’t come out in weeks and that they thought his feelings towards his Fordsy had gotten a little ‘obsessive.’ He’d tried telling them the obvious that obsession was beneath him like all mortal emotions but they wouldn’t budge. An ‘intervention’ they called it.
So, he promised that he’d do something different, go outside and set his mind to something else.
But what to do? Bill’s restless at the best of times so it was a difficult choice. While considering his options he got (very rudely) snared by a band of rampant energy. He ripped the offending thing off of him, snarling, before being struck with an appealing idea.
See, when dimensions explode violently and into pretty fireworks, some of the energy holding them together gets spaghettified into long strands of unbridled force that ping across the multiverse like a snapped rubber band, destroying everything in their path. This is, of course, hilarious, except for when they hit him. Unfortunately, due to his current preference for the physical plane, and the staggering size of the Nightmare Realm, they tend to hit him a lot.
Thankfully, it's little more than time consuming to beat these strands into submission. In a process not too dissimilar to human weaving (although he’d never admit the similarities) he can wrangle the energy into a more useful and less (fun) volatile form.
All this to say, he was removing a minor nuisance in his own self interest, and if it happened to also make the multiverse safer and happier, well Bill would just have to deal with it. After all, he could make the multiverse plenty unsafe and unhappy on his own terms later.
The form he chooses is not one he’s been in in a while. It is long and serpentine, with hundreds of thousands of short, stubby legs, harkening back to the human notion of a millipede. Although he came first, of course. The only resemblance to his more snazzy form is a transparent triangular mask hovering over his front end.
Using longer arms not directly connected to his main body, he pulls out and sets up his loom.
Certain foolish amphibians and seven-eyed brats would not think he’d the patience for such a task. Bill thinks they should try shutting their mouths before they talk about something they don't understand.
Rolling his eye, Bill had set to work.
Now, back in the present, he finds himself staring down at the very human he’d been trying to take his mind off of. Great.
It's not particularly a surprise-- he’d known it would happen like he knows that in 15 years the human will almost be the death of him. Hard to surprise an all-knowing being, you know? --but it's a nuisance all the same.
Ford, for his part, doesn’t seem to have the good sense to notice his annoyance and run away pleading for his life. This does not surprise him.
What does, is the fact that Fordsy doesn’t seem to even realize it's him, either.
It's almost insulting. What kind of devotee doesn’t recognize when his God is standing right in front of him? It is, of course, a simple thing, that Bill can’t possibly fault him for (not that he won't try). He simply figures Fordsy didn't spend enough time with him on the upper planes to recognize him on feel alone. So be it, he’s not too heartbroken about losing that future. Especially since Ford’s awed expression promises that this route will be fun too.
“Hello there.” Bill says to him, making sure he doesn’t sound too much like himself. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise too early!
And then Fordsy goes the most adorable shade of pink at being noticed by something so otherworldly, and Bill decides right then that maybe he doesn’t ever want Ford to learn the truth.
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creative-jackalope · 7 months
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*chanting* Ford Pines ! Ford Pines ! Ford Pines !
(for the headcanon game LOL)
HI THIS WAS SENT TO ME A REALLY LONG TIME AGO AND I FORGOT TO POST THE RESPONSE,,, This has been in my drafts for like a year I think oopsie. Aaaaaaaaaaaanyway--
---
[Send a character’s name to receive four different headcanons!]
OH BOY do I have many a thought about this man. Picking just four is tough and these are going to be so long so I’ll place them under a read-more.
Heads up - significant Gravity Falls spoilers!
Headcanon 1 - Canon-Compliant:
This is a relatively common headcanon already, I think, but Ford is absolutely covered in scars from his time in the Multiverse. He also already had some from his years in Gravity Falls. If you can name an injury, Ford's probably experienced it at some point - bitten, stung, broken bones, shot, stabbed, fallen from a height, poisoned, burned, he's seen it all. (Thankfully he's managed to keep himself away from fatal or debilitating harm, but there's still time! :D His common sense and self-preservation instincts leave something to be desired and his hero complex never quite went away.) He isn't too fussed about others seeing the scars, usually, but he tends to be evasive if asked about them - he prefers not to think about his time in the Multiverse in too much detail.
Headcanon 2 - Hilarious: 
Ford is resolutely convinced that, throughout his time working with Fiddleford, he did an astounding job at hiding Bill and their partnership. He is 100% certain that Fiddleford couldn't ever have known, not in the least! It does, however, turn out that Ford is a terrible liar and has about as much subtlety as a fork in the garbage disposal. That's not even counting the moments (that Ford is unaware of) when Bill would talk directly to Fiddleford, making no pretenses but never telling Fiddleford exactly who he is other than a 'friend' looking after Ford and helping build the portal. At one point Bill even tried to directly tell Ford that Fiddleford knew, hoping they'd get to stop the charade - Ford just laughed and brushed it off, saying, "Don't be ridiculous, he doesn't suspect a thing!" Bill didn't care enough to push the topic.
Headcanon 3 - Painful:
[CW: Substance misuse, life-threatening physical illness, mental illness, paranoia] Being possessed repeatedly by Bill had serious effects on Ford’s body which neither of them expected. Towards the end of their partnership, his body essentially began to treat Bill like a parasite - his immune system began attacking his nervous system. This caused swelling in his brain, accompanied by fever, hallucinations, chronic headaches and light sensitivity, and just in general an awful time all around for him. After the betrayal, it didn’t matter if Cipher was actually tormenting him or not; hallucinations of him were enough to fuel Ford’s paranoia, and depriving himself of sleep to 'protect' himself from these hallucinations did extremely little to help. The one saving grace is that Ford began to self-medicate with steroids in an attempt to keep himself awake and alert for longer periods, which had the (accidental, on his part) side-effect of slowing/reducing the swelling and suppressing his immune system's attack on his body - and likely saved his life by keeping him going until he finally ended up in a hospital. He has long-lasting damage from this, though thankfully things have improved with time, and he has learned to live with and work around the lingering symptoms. He's still not certain how much of the torment in those years was actually Bill, and how much of it was his own paranoia and illness... If he's honest with himself, he'd rather not know.
Headcanon 4 - Canon Is Dead:
Stanford Pines likes poetry and I will die on this hill. I know this directly contradicts Journal 3 (”I never understood poetry, to be honest") but, in my eyes, Ford loves self-expression through written and visual mediums. He is a man who has always struggled with expressing things like emotions verbally, which is part of the reason he ends up using his Journals more as a diary than as a record of research methods and discoveries, and so art as an expression of things you can’t otherwise put words to fascinates him. The written word, in general, is something he loves - whether fiction or non-fiction, poetry or prose. Poetry in particular is something that helps him with recognising his own emotions and understanding them. As such, I explain the Journal 3 comment either as “-plugs ears- he didn’t say that” or “he’s being deliberately snarky because he knows what the Hand Witch is implying and he doesn’t like it or want to admit/acknowledge it”.
...
Now I’m. Stretching the rules a bit lmao.
Here are some in-depth extras that are important ones to me, but don’t particularly fit the above categories.
Bonus Headcanon 5 -  Trauma, coping mechanisms, and the importance of social support after so much isolation:
[CW: Discussion of PTSD symptoms] Basically implied in canon already, he has some pretty serious PTSD as a result of his years spent paranoid and alone in the Multiverse, and suffers from frequent nightmares as well as occasional flashbacks, amongst other things. One of his biggest coping mechanisms for the related anxiety is being armed so he can defend himself at a moment’s notice. At first after returning, Ford never went without his weapon belt, not even at the Shack, and all it took was an errant floorboard creak for his hand to fly to his gun. After a long while, he steadily got used to the idea that he was home, and he was safe, and started to forgo the belt more and more whilst in what he felt were safe places (ie. in the Shack or on the Stan O’ War II). Despite that, he still feels the need to be armed for reassurance whenever he goes out, even if it’s just to the town - and there are days where he will, without explanation, carry a weapon in his safe places too, something that Stan tactfully doesn’t mention. However, later on those same days Stan will usually a spot a new anomaly and insist they need to stay home so he can tell Ford about it, then spend all evening spinning a grand tale of how terrifying and fantastical it was in great detail, until Ford either is listening with complete awe or is terribly unamused and poking holes in the blatantly fabricated story - either way, the gun often ends up on the table, forgotten.
Bonus Headcanon 6 - Probably the most important one to me and plays a massive part in how I characterise Ford as a whole - I apologise for how LONG this one is but I have so so so many thoughts about it:
Ford is autistic and was diagnosed as a child, in the 60s. He grew up masking a lot of the more “obvious” traits, like repressing many of his body stims, because of bullying and family pressure - he was already “weird” and this just made him stand out more, so he tried to hide it. Big traits he had as a child that carried over to adulthood were his bluntness, difficulty in relating to others, sensitivity to sensory input (noise and texture were the main ones), and how he would focus intensely on particular topics that interested him. Behind-the-scenes he also received a lot of support from Stan (who I headcanon as ADHD and autistic, though his traits present very differently to Ford’s and he was never assessed or diagnosed, instead just treated as a ‘problem child’), and as such, began to struggle a lot more than he thought he would once Stan was no longer in his life and couldn’t secretly help him through things. As an adult, since he started living alone and had embraced his polydactly and made it his, Ford steadily started unmasking and just let himself exist in all his “weird” glory; including being more vocal about his own limits and needs, both personal and social. He stims a lot with DD&MD dice (which he is an avid collector of) as well as whatever little desk toys he can find (especially physics-based ones), and also has several hand-based stims like tapping or rubbing his fingers. One of his anxious stims, picked up during the nights where he was trying to keep himself awake, is tapping his thumb against his fingers sequentially and counting along “one, two, three, four, five”. Counting is general is an action he finds very soothing when he’s stressed or anxious. Finally, one thing that has never, ever changed about him is that once he gets focused on something he Will Not Stop - he’ll forgo food, sleep, and anything else because he simply forgets he needs it once he gets into the zone, and he’s terrible at reading the signals from his body informing him he is hungry or tired. Having others around, like Fiddleford and Stanley, to prompt him to look after himself is something he benefits from heavily.
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keanureevesisbae · 1 year
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endeavors #12 - insecurities
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Summary: Grace is a little insecure after some comments, however August is right there.
August Walker x Grace Stanford (asian ofc)
Wordcount: 1.4k
Warning: Weight/weight loss mention, minuscule spanking, boob play, mention of making love - this is quite the tame chapter.
A/N: These two are so fucking blind, it's actually hilarious
Masterlist // endeavors masterlist
August and I have this new arrangement, where I don’t wear my underwear in the house and only very short skirts or dresses. That last part we already did, but no underwear? I feel like my permanent state of mind is now… excited. Ready for him. Hungry. Horny. Desperate to be fucked.
I love taking him every second of the day. It doesn’t matter when or how and with me being unemployed again, I have a lot of time. 
And on top of that, August praises me for how well I take him, no matter when, no matter where. And that has impact on me. If I wasn’t addicted to him already, I certainly am now, constantly craving him and the way he manhandles me.
We’re now wandering through the grocery store, deciding what to buy for the next few days. August nonchalantly pushes the cart in front of him, leaning with his elbows on it. But I can feel his eyes roaming over my body. I’m wearing a skirt and tank top combo—we’re outside and I am therefore wearing underwear—but this is one of his favorite outfits, especially because the jeans skirt is on the tighter side, just like the top.
Yes, I dress for him now too. Call me awful, but I like the compliments. 
‘Okay,’ I say, as I skip the chips aisle. ‘Next up is some broccoli from the freezer.’
‘Where are you going?’ August asks me. ‘Come on, we always eat chips with a movie.’
I shake my head. ’No, I’m watching my weight a little.’
He glares at me. ‘Why are you watching your weight?’ August asks me. He then narrows his eyes. ‘Who said what?’
I walk back to the cart and I lower my voice as I tell him about what I overheard some of my family members say when I visited them the other day.
‘Is this so-called weight gain an issue for you?’ August asks.
I shrug. ‘Well, they are right. I kind of have a tummy and quite the love handles now and I can feel it a bit in my jeans.’
He scoffs. ‘Who needs to wear jeans when you can wear dresses?’ August asks. ‘It’s easy access.’
I smack his stomach. ‘I’m serious, August. I’m just going to watch what I eat for a few weeks and then I’m back in shape again.’
‘I think you look beautiful,’ August admits. ‘If you want to lose weight for yourself, then I am all in, but if you do it because relatives have the audacity to talk about your weight behind your back… Please reconsider and know that you are beautiful, Grace.’
I nod, my stomach turning because of his sweet words. ‘Can we go to the freezer?’
August places his hand on my lower back and whispers: ‘We can, but please Grace, don’t let their words get to you, okay?’
I almost melt into him, especially when his hands descend a little to the curve of my ass. But I don’t, fighting every cell in the process.
‘Promise me,’ he then says, his voice a few tones deeper and more demanding.
I smile sadly. ‘I promise.’
﹌﹌
In the car August had his hand placed on my leg and I kept thinking about what he said in the store. We still skipped on the chips and other things I shouldn’t eat, but I couldn’t shake off what he told me. I hadn’t noticed any weight gain either, but once I heard my relatives talk about it, I took a good look in the mirror and saw the imperfections immediately.
When I was with August, he made me feel confident and thanks to him I feel good in my skin. I don’t think I have ever looked better, so maybe I was being an idiot for listening to them. 
We’re experiencing some traffic jam and I look to the side. I lean over to press a kiss on his cheek. I normally don’t do that, but before he can think anything of it, I say: ‘Thank you, for the pep talk.’
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘For fuck’s sake, what an idiots. Talking about you like that. The audacity.’ He gives my thigh a squeeze and says: ‘I’ll go back later to grab some snacks.’
I chuckle, placing my hand on his. We look like a couple, I saw us in the reflection of the store, but it’s talks like this that make my feelings go into overdrive. It’s moments like this where I wonder if we would make a good couple. 
By the time we get home and are safe and sound in our hallway, August holds out his hand and I know what to do. I step out of my underwear, before I slip out my bra. After placing it in his hand, he chuckles and together we walk towards the kitchen. We put away the groceries, however I could’ve and should’ve known that August would make it perverted instantly. 
I mean, he did make me hand over my underwear.
He smacked my ass a few times and when I stood on a stool to put the groceries away, he placed his hand on my inner thigh, his thumb dangerously close to my already aching center.
Once everything is stored away, August stands behind me as I prepare the coffee. His bulge presses against my behind and I’m honestly getting way too excited. My nipple harden and August kneads my breasts through the thin fabric of my tank top. ‘You know,’ he whispers, his lips close to my ear, ‘I like these tight clothes on you. Show off all your perfections and your curves. What I don’t like is all those slimy bastards staring at you when you walk by.’
I lean against his chest and he nips my neck. 
‘But little do they know that I am the one to make you scream, make you cum and begging.’
August has taken off my shirt a little quicker than necessary and turns me around. The coffee is long forgotten, as he leans forward and presses a kiss in between my breasts. ‘I love these,’ he admits.
‘What?’ I ask him, not knowing if I heard him right.
He smirks. ‘I love your breasts. They are really distracting when we’re out and about.’
His tongue teases my nipple and I gasp when he sinks his teeth it. I allow him manhandling my breasts in only a way he can, however I reach a limit. ‘Stop teasing me.’
‘Tell me, Grace, what do you want me to do?’
That is a first. He never asks me that. 
Words are nowhere to be found.
‘You know what you want,’ August pushes. 
I take a deep breath, because I do. ‘Can you make love to me?’
‘Make love?’ he parrots. 
‘Or don’t you know how to do that?’ I joke. 
He rolls his eyes with a smirk. 
‘It’s just that… I never really properly made love with someone before and… I think you can show me how.’
He nods. ‘I can do that, Grace.’
﹌﹌
I knew August did sex. I suspected he also made love, though I was never on the receiving end of it. Sure, it was sensual from times of times, but there was always this roughness attached to it. However my stomach turns thinking back about what just happened. Deep kisses, softer touches and the everlasting eye contact.
I know there is no turning back now.
I am falling deeply for him.
August gets back in the bed again, holding a glass of water for me. I gulp it all down and he takes the glass from my hands once I am done. He smiles and asks: ‘What?’
‘August Walker is capable of making love.’
‘Of course I am.’ He tugs me closer. ‘Not with everybody though. I don’t let my guard down like that with everyone.’
I turn on my side and he does the same thing. ‘So, I should feel special?’
‘Well, most of the times women just ask me to fuck them, not make love to them. You were the first who asked.’ He places his hand on my cheek. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I feel good.’ I smile and whisper: ‘I feel beautiful.’
‘You should,’ he says. ‘You are absolutely breathtaking. You know… Ever since we started this, you have become more confident. You have blossomed. Despite losing your jobs, you bounced back from it and have only grown from that. From a shy lady to a confident woman.’ 
I curl up against his body, unable to say something.
‘Besides, you’re quite the slut being able to take me so well. I sure am a lucky guy.’
I pinch his nipple. He lets out a chuckle and I laugh as well. 
‘Thank you, Grace.’
‘For what?’
‘For always trusting me.’
﹌﹌
endeavors taglist: @diegos-butt // @thelastsock // @liecastillo // @mis-lil-red // @sofiebstar // @abschaffer2 // @crazybutconfidentaf // @summersong69 // @gearhead66 // @xobriellaxo24 // @kebabgirl67 // @eldarwen333 // @kingliam2019 // @cherry-gemz // @sillyrabbit81 // @enchantedbytomandhenry // @lyrarodriguez // @islacharlotte // @sunshine96love // @oddsnendsfanfics // @xuxszx // @omgkatinka // @pterodactylterrace / @peaches1958 // @pandaxnienke // @teamfan7asy // @raccoon-eyed-rebel // @geralts-yenn
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eliteprepsat · 7 months
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Nowadays, the internet is woven into the fabric of our lives. While there are any number of reasons why we may connect to the world wide web, how often do we use this vast resource specifically for inspiration and education? It’s easy to hop on social media and seek out instant gratification, but what about nourishing your intellect and spirit? Fortunately, there are plenty of opportunities to do so, and in this article we’ll focus on TED Talks designed with students in mind. If you’ve never heard of TED Talks, they are speeches under 18 minutes long defined as one of two things:
Something that’s new and surprising; an idea or invention that your audience has never heard about.
A great basic idea (that your audience has maybe already heard) with a compelling new argument behind it that challenges beliefs and perspectives.
These are great videos to check out at any time of day, perhaps first thing in the morning or when you have a 15-20 minute break. No matter when you watch, I highly recommend the following seven TED Talks that cover a variety of topics that students will find relevant and thought-provoking.
1. What Your Grades Really Mean
We begin with a TED Talk by Eva Ren, who delivered this talk when she was a high school senior. In a hyper-competitive society in which everyone is striving to achieve the best marks, Ren offers insight on why grades aren’t as indicative of success as is commonly thought. Whether you are stressing over your grades or have a perfect GPA, this talk should resonate and give you perspective on your unique role within the learning process. 
2. Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance
We tend to think that IQ and talent determine an individual’s success, but Angela Lee Duckworth, Professor of Psychology at the University of Pennsylvania, explains the science behind what it actually takes to reach success in this quick, yet effective TED Talk. Exploring a relatively unstudied phenomenon, Duckworth makes the case for shifting our perspectives of what it takes to be successful and how we can better prepare students for their own future success. At under six minutes, this talk may be one of the shortest, but it packs 
3. The Secret to Student Success
Building on the concept of grit, Arel Moodie delivers an intensely personal TED Talk that reveals his own struggles as a student, from elementary school through college. The peaks and valleys that characterize any meaningful journey are on full display as Moodie grapples with the realities of growing up in a tough New York neighborhood. Many of the elements in his story will be familiar to students, but he ultimately ties in the lessons learned into a broader message that should be received by all.
4. The Power of Believing That You Can Improve
The previous two TED Talks both incorporate the primary theme of this talk: growth mindset. Carol Dweck, Professor of Psychology at Stanford University, discusses the science behind motivation and reward to explain how all students are capable of improving their abilities. She mentions studies conducted on the brain to support her message while also rooting the science in real-life scenarios to show how students can be helped in practical ways. As one of the pioneering researchers in the field of motivation, Dweck ensures listeners that the power to improve lies within us all.
5. Inside the Mind of a Master Procrastinator
Procrastination. It has a tendency to get the best of us all. Easy to slip into and difficult to escape, procrastination can derail your greatest intentions. In this TED Talk, Harvard graduate Tim Urban shares an entertaining and insightful take on procrastination and how it can affect even the most well-meaning among us. He introduces a familiar (and hilarious) cast of characters to help frame why we procrastinate and what can be done to procrastinate less. There’s something here for everyone. 
6. The Power of Introverts
Extroverts are all around us. We see them; we hear them; we easily recognize them. There seems to be an emphasis on extroversion in modern society, but what role does introversion have to offer? In this TED Talk, Susan Cain offers a poignant perspective on the power of the inner self. She traces how we have reached a point in today’s culture in which extroversion seems to have more value than introversion and offers historical and personal examples to show why we should strive for more balance between the two.
7. Everyday Leadership
Our final TED Talk deals with the power of connection and how it relates to a type of leadership we all possess but may not acknowledge. Drew Dudley uses an entertaining extended anecdote to introduce the concept of Lollipop Moments, a straightforward and easily applicable technique that can be used to change the world. His story will evoke many laughs, but the overall message contains a dynamic approach to how we understand leadership and the effects it can have on the people around us.
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edoro · 2 years
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Do you have any fanfiction recommendations? Just anything that fits under the umbrella of being based on the owl house.
cracks knuckles
to preface this, my faves are heavily weighted towards Fics About Hunter And His Trauma, and i pretty much exclusively read fic in the Hunter tag, so that's what these are all gonna be
i will be putting this under a cut for length, and adding relevant content notes to stuff, but just as kind of a blanket thing, I Enjoy And Write Fucked Up Fiction About Heavy Dark Taboo Topics
so first of all, when i rocked up on the TOH scene here and went "hey, this kid is super molested, where's the fic about that?" the only person i could find writing it was Nova my friend Nova, whose excellent series the Emperor and his Golden Guard is just a fantastic look into how bad Hunter's life sucks.
this series follows Hunter throughout various times in his life as he's groomed and abused by his uncle and struggles to make sense of it. among other things, it does an astounding job of portraying the fractured, dreamlike quality life takes on when you're living in an inescapable hell of unpredictable trauma, and Hunter's dissociation both during the abuse incidents and just in general. heavy but very good!
obvious content warnings here for csa, incest, internalized victim-blaming, basically everything you could expect from the concept.
small comfort has got to be hands down my favorite Hunter CSA Trauma fic in this entire fandom. it is so good. it swings hard at portraying the dreadful mundanity and normalcy of this sort of abuse when you've been groomed into it for your whole life and it does not miss. Hunter's slowly growing but intensely baffled awareness that something isn't quite right is simply heartbreaking.
warnings for csa, incest, and also cocsa (is it still cocsa if they're teens? i think that best communicates the degree of "a very abused child unknowingly enacting that abuse on others")
the sequel, baby steps, focuses on Darius, Raine, and Eda in the aftermath of the revelations of the first fic, and is also one of my favorite "the adults contemplating and admitting just how much they overlooked/ignored how obviously abused this kid was" fics.
Owl Whumptober 2021 (oh god shut up about the passage of time shut up about the passage of time) is a truly delightful series of whumpfics by azhdarchidaen (i would also recommend all of his other fics, tbh! they are all Very Good) that are mostly but not 100% exclusively about Hunter. just all-around solid writing and characterization and tasty, tasty whump.
Imperfect Lock by Nosferatank is a tasty speculative biology fic about Hunter being a grimwalker that came out well before we had like, any info on that at all really, and still holds up very well, although of course we've learned some things since then!
Ortet by KomorebiPines is another speculative fic about the whole grimwalker clone thing that is just delightfully horrifying. non-canonical, but a tasty Silent Hill-esque vibe to it that i think makes it worth reading.
Stop Blubbering You Literal Baby by mandaree1 is a great little fic about How Hunter Got That Scar, featuring an interesting look into Kiki's take on the whole deal. physical abuse, some unkind behavior/victim-blaming from Kiki.
Confessional by VillainIHaveDoneThyMother is a haunting look into what might have happened if Hunter had gone back post-Hollow Mind. stupendously creepy behavior from Belos, intensely fucked up mindset from Hunter, all-around good stuff.
all of their stuff is good, but i also want to specifically mention A House On Actual Fire (Belos/Stanford Pines crackship, hilarious and delightful) (various types of implied abuse one of which i'm p sure is csa if you squint), Lay Leg O'er (what if Philip were a self-loathing evil slut?) (tons of internalized stuff and, as the tags say, Very Bad BDSM Etiquette), Yearling (Philip tries out being a wee haunted evil doll on one of his grimwalkers) (the concept is the entire warning i think), and Gold Foil (cute lil pre-Goldric!)
create in me a pure heart, o god by katrinasis is an excellent glimpse into Philip's twisted fucked up mindset with the whole, you know, constant cycle of cloning, abuse, and fratricide
But Before That, You'll Be a Doormat to Every vicious Narcissist in the World by Destinyllama is a fun look at various POVs post-Hollow Mind, getting into a lot of stuff about Hunter's whole situation. got all kinds of abuse, heavy on the cycles of fuckery, weird religious shit, Philip being messed up, and emotional incest.
what we are is the sum of a thousand lies by by elliptical is a HYSTERICALLY funny canon divergent au from s2e6 where Darius brings a wounded Hunter to Eda's house in the middle of the night because he doesn't have anywhere else to go, and they are both just very tired, very stressed, and very bitchy to each other. i adore this fic and its Eda voice SO MUCH
5 Easy Steps to Be a Cool Teen Rebel by verboseDescription is a very cute look at Hunter trying to individuate himself and find out just who he wants to be, ft Dadrius
A Quiet Valley by ConceitedDemon is a post-finale fic from Camila's pov about Witches Being Weird, it is cute and fun
hello my hollow Holofernes by TheAndersonRecord is an incredible and deeply haunting post-finale fic from Camila's pov that's largely about Hunter Having A Bad Fucking Time, evil goop uncle possession style, and you should all read it right now.
and then, of course, i write fic!
paint the blood is my take on the "Hunter in the Owl House" genre (graphic scene of physical abuse in first chapter, overall whump and trauma), Best-Laid Plans is a Babybel AU fic (past csa + physical and religious abuse, present-day torture and attempted sexual assault), Expectations is a post-canon Dadrius fic (past csa shown on-page), A Mutually Satisfactory Arrangement is for the Huntlow appreciators out there (past csa)
come up for air is a post-canon Raine And Hunter Have A Talk Fic (a talk about Hunter's csa and also a past abusive relationship Raine was in), every human touch is about Luz sneaking into the castle, running into Hunter, and witnessing something neither of them wanted her to (csa), and but he talks like a gentleman is a little canon divergent idea of What If Luz Ended Up Stuck In Philip's Time With Him In S2E12? (actually nothing bad happens in this one)
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quill-n · 1 year
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I think Tsu is actually the most unhinged hero. Everyone sees him as this prim and proper hero who takes his image very seriously, and he IS, but he’s also just so CHAOTIC.
Seriously the man was in full nude during a fight In vigilantes because he had to use his own hero costume. And he wasn’t even EMBARRASSED. He has absolutely no shame, and I love him for it
No fr, he's genuinely one of the strangest characters I've ever encountered because every time I learn something new about him, he gets weirder
and I ADORE him for it
I think I'll actually go insane if I don't write it all down, so that's going below the cut
All this information is canon, take that how you will
Let's start with the fighting in the nude thing since you already mentioned it— He was totally naked that scene, he used up his entire costume (which makes sense) but he still actively chose to leave the part covering his face. Not only does he have no shame, he has priorities.
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His denim puns... was that something he always did, or did he come up with it to stay on brand??
The fact that he's always adjusting his hair. I would be too, if I also chose to rock that weird side sweep
This one's a little funky, but there's something about the way that he stands— Idk, it just sets off something in my brain (affectionate)
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Yeah
I don't think I even need to mention his neck
His proportions in general????
He has pockets on the back of his. collar? jollar?? They're on the back of his head is my point and they're like the ass pockets of pants and just WHAT DOES HE USE THEM FOR??
(My personal headcanon is that's where he keeps his comb)
The fact that he has an S+ rank in fashion sense, but the way he canonically dresses is... yeah
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He just looks so strange (affectionate)
(Ik it's not actually that out of place, but there's something about the four buttons on the pants and the suspenders/scarf (bandana??) combo and the. the bowling shoes. It just throws me off a bit. I feel like he can do better /lh)
SPEAKING OF HIS CLOTHES, we've seen at LEAST three or four different iterations of the same stupid costume. The changes are always so unnoticeable and it drives me a little bit insane
THE FACE BELT.
His taste in interior decor is... on brand
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Wow I wonder what his favorite color is (sarcastic, affectionate)
(His home isn't actually that bad imo, but the office.) (There's more scenes of the office interior somewhere out there but they won't fit on this post, apologies.)
(The thread spool table. I can't tell if it's genius or insane.)
He was the president of a crafts club at a school that doesn't allow hero students to join clubs (anymore?) and now he's one of the top heroes of the country and I think that says a lot about him
He won the Best Jeanist award eight years in a row, which for a while SEVERELY confused me because did he name himself after the award, or was the award named after him? Because one of those is a little weird and the other one seems just a little unfair.
(This is how I learned that the Best Jeanist award is a REAL THING in Japan so he named himself after the award and that sent me reeling for a while)
The BJ belt buckle.
This image:
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This image:
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His hands are bigger than his face, which means that the fact that he's been hospitalized multiple times makes PERFECT sense
(my friend found a whole Stanford article written in the most hilarious way about the hand thing, and it's haunted me ever since) (I'd need to ask for the article again if anyone's curious but it's an... interesting read)
edit: I LIED I LIED THE ARTICLE IS SATIRE IT'S NOT REAL IT'S NOT REAL THE HAND THING (probably) ISN'T TRUE (it's still a hilarious read though so I'm still linking it)
(I'm going to pretend that it's real just because it is absolutely hysterical to me. Sir Nighteye and All Might also have hands bigger than their faces btw. For the record. Which is why I think it's awfully funny.)
Anyways
There's also this from Vigilantes, and I'm not even sure what to make of it
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It talks about how he's always so serious even when the situation is........ ridiculous
He's so eccentric I love him
Also that specific image gives fish want me, women fear me vibes /j
He drives the fucking Batmobile except it can shoot out metal wires
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(I've never read any DC comics; if the actual Batmobile can also shoot out metal wires, please forgive my oversight)
The fact that he JUMPED OUT OF A PLANE WITHOUT A PARACHUTE and STILL landed on his feet?? gracefully? on a cable???? With not a single hair out of place?????
ALSO the fact that he keeps on having such close encounters with death (he lost a lung, the whole Hawks and Dabi situation...) and yet he's. not dead. yet. somehow. Maybe he has multiple lives.
Is he just a cat?????
New conspiracy theory just dropped /j
Moral of the story is: Best Jeanist is, in fact, unhinged (and we love him for it)
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thelastspeecher · 1 year
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fastreader12 replied to your post: "(btw if anyone who enjoyed the thing I posted..."
Is there a point where Ford just deadpan goes, "Stanley, it's really me your brother Stanford. Get me out of here."
akjslndfknjasdf that's hilarious
but no
Ford tries to be upfront with things when he's first turned four, but even when he's blunt and honest, none of the adults listen to him nor believe him. they always think he's playing or joking or just like...maybe kinda wrong in the head.
so he quickly gives up on that route. including for when he tries to get Stan to know about what's happened to him.
Ford just works his way into Stan's good graces, getting close to him. and this, combined with Stan's suspicion that Ford is his twin's son somehow, makes Stan decide to ask if he can foster Ford instead.
Ford initially plans on telling Stan the truth immediately once he's in Stan's home, but he's tired and just wants to settle in. and also, (suggested by my roommate) part of him worries that Stan will hate him again when he finds out the truth. after all, when they parted ways, it wasn't under very good circumstances.
so it actually takes about a week after Ford's officially become the foster child of Stan (and his wife) for Ford to come clean about who he is.
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Beautiful Spouse Rewatches SPN 05x01
Sympathy for the Devil
“I wish The Winchesters had the camp like OG supernatural” “You can note that today is Dean’s birthday, too” “what the fuck?”
“I’m asking you guys” “terrorist nuns. That’s frightening” “That’s a bloody fkn toaster” “Isn’t this guy GOD, and he hits you with a rubber end of a plunger?” “delicious. Was it alphabet soup or chicken noodle soup?” “That was one sick burn - cram it with walnuts ugly? - look at his fucking face. Do you see Zach’s little smile?” “Zach is like oh shit I didn’t offend him enough”
“CRAM IT WITH WALNUTS UGLY - that’s hilarious” “There’s no hand pattern with blood on the door but his hand was bloody” “We’re sucking the walnuts right out of the angels’ ass. That’s what we’re doing today” “you don’t want to know dean” “They’re going extra with the language in this episode” “Oddly plush carpet for a motel and you can hear his shoes on tile but there’s dirty carpet in another corner” “Easy” “Oh it’s her” “Are they making fun of the Samgirls?” No they’re making fun of the wincesties
“Web mistress?” “I love how incredibly lame this could have gone, but it actually works” “Is that Chicago?” “I always forget this was filmed in Canada” Sam getting rejected by both his father figures
“I don’t think I saw that coming last time either” “Makes sense after he shat all over Sam. I suspected something but just figured Bobby changed his mind about Sam” Looking up Rachel Miner filmography because Spouse doesn’t remember seeing her elsewhere - it was Californication 
“Might need your penis for later. Careful where you cut” “Didn’t he kill his woman or something? Or did they die from something else?” “and that’s when you realize you’ve completely lost it” “Dean really likes playing with his piece” I have a joke to tell Spouse later about the Michael sword actually being a Michael Sheath lol
“I’m confused?” “that was funny as fuck” “See? He’s a wad and a receptacle. Even Dean put it together” twirls hair hi cas
“Sky Daddy is angry”
Cas literally branded Dean with a handprint then branded both of them with rib sigils lol 🎶I wanna feel you from the inside🎶
“I don’t mind this guy so much” “So Lucifer just didn’t say anything about promises?” “with balls”
“Oh wait he doesn’t know never mind” “That’s funnier than fuck” - the GED and give em hell attitude
“Is that what you put on your job application?” “When did Dean get his GED? Do we know?” NO, but we the girlies know he did it all alone while Sam was at Stanford and in-between hunts
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maggot-monger · 2 years
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fmk. soulless sam, standford sam, hallucifer sam.
scream i don't know what to do with this at all kjhgfghj
fuck hallucifer sam??? this is a ridiculous thing for me to say since i don't actually remember this happening due to not having seen s7 since 2013, but i think it would be a story for the ages to fuck someone else's hallucination of the devil, so i'm in. it would probably be so annoying but that's sort of works for me so what can you do (or does this mean sam who was hallucinating lucifer?? RIP i don’t remember this season. this works too though, sam is sexy when he looks like he’s about two seconds from death)
marry soulless sam because i don't think he gives a shit and neither do i. it would be hilarious though. cheers, soulless, my good bitch. (i have gotten soulless sam as the answer to at least two "which spn character are you?" quizzes and we have the same mbti type and i'm not a fan of opposites attract for myself so like.)
kill stanford sam. this answer is objectively incorrect but i've done the "i'm trying sooo hard to be normal" thing and i'm past that era in my life. i'm saving him from the misfortunes of his future this way i guess.
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elliebartlets · 25 days
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veronica mars rewatch 1x16: betty and veronica
• oh I’m digging this background music
• ah the wee shite Clarence bugged her room
• lol she wants him listening but do you think he heard her turn her room upside down and smash the panda figurine trying to find the bug he planted?
• “See you need to socialize more. That’s your problem.”
“Wait. That’s my problem?”
Sarcastic Veronica my fav
• if i were veronica and the principal called me into his office to ask if I could find the missing parrot mascot, after the way that school and administration treated me, I’d burst out laughing and then ask for $500
• I do remember a scene where veronica pretends to be a student at the rival school where she’s in their cafeteria and she tries to figure out who stole the parrot
• “I’m Betty.”
“At my old school, I was horny. We were the rhinos, I was the mascot.”
“And what school was that?”
“Riverdale.”
Lmao
• oh no did Veronica give her mom some of her college savings??
• “I just walked in like I was a student there and nobody even asked me anything.”
lol just like what Veronica is doing
• so Celeste Kane was going to tell Veronica about Jake Kane and Veronica’s mom?? like I’m assuming it was affair related stuff, but not going into “my husband could be your father” territory. because why would she even want to bring that up lol if anything that would ruin her reputation and cause Veronica to be entitled for like millions of dollars from the Kane fortune.
and then Lianne threatened Jake with a paternity test if Celeste didn’t keep quiet, which is why Lianne was blackmailed but I still don’t understand what that has to do with her being forced to leave town and not be seen with Veronica…
• yeah I knew that kid didn’t actually steal the parrot
• lol Wallace stole the goat
• aww Veronica’s the one making Wallace cookies and spirit boxes
• “Can you do me a weird favor without asking any questions?”
“Isn’t that the bedrock upon which are friendship was founded?”
• Wallace’s mom works at Kane software?
• oh my god the way I just screamed no!! when they showed Meg having dinner with Duncan and his parents in the restaurant at the table next to Veronica
• ugh these vegan hippie girls are so judgmental and obnoxious.
• also hilarious they think Veronica’s jacket has real fur and that she has real leather boots aksjsj bitch that shit is expensive and Veronica as we know is tight on money if anything that’s fake fur and pleather
• “I can’t just start chumming around with people who’ve ignored and mocked me for a year.”
Veronica’s acting like this is the reason she’s avoiding Meg, but she was ok with talking to and being friendly with and helping Meg until Meg started dating Duncan.
• wow another plot twist. thinking the rival guy Richie stole the parrot because his # is 13 when it was really the #13 on the Neptune team.
• woah woah woah, Veronica had four years at San Diego state, a year at Stanford, and a semester at the Sorbonne saved up?! I know college was a little cheaper back then but Jesus Christ
• she gave all her money for an AA program for her mom?!
• wow the name Amelia DeLongpre is so familiar
• ahhh it all makes sense now. Abel Koontz took the fall for Lily’s murder because he’s dying and will be gone soon so might as well anyway plus his daughter will get paid money for him taking the fall
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the-invisible-queer · 11 months
Note
Okay but you know the moment Sam learnt about what that professor did to Elle, he would’ve punched the professor
No. I don't think he would punch Callahan actually.
End of the movie Sam would defend Elle and be absolutely disgusted with Callahan. But not beginning of the movie Sam. Which he would have been in law school.
He didn't become the coffee bean yet.
The conversation he has with Pritchard and Cohen at the start of the movie, they're applauding him for "poaching a client from a senior associate" and being "ballsy".
He really only cared about moving his career forward.
You see it in the way he handles Marcus' case in their first meeting and then in the meeting with Lin and Jensen.
Amanda FULLY clocked him when she called him out when they were having lunch as basically a heartless corporate lawyer and then later calling him a "carpetbagger".
I fully believe Sam would have not given a shit about what Callahan did to Elle.
He probably would have been one of Warner and Vivienne's friends who made fun of her.
And I fully believe he was a good enough student to have gotten Callahan's internship.
Shanghai Calling ALLEGEDLY takes place in 2006 because in the credits we see Sam's passport or whatever and it says his birthday is Dec. 30, 1976 and he turns 30 at the end of the movie which puts it in 2006.
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Elle Woods graduated Harvard Law in 2004.
ALSO this all started because when I first posted that what if he went to law school with Elle Woods post, I couldn't think of any other law school besides Harvard and Stanford and we know he didn't go to Stanford.
But now that I have slept I think Sam was probably more likely a Yale law school grad.
But I like the idea that he tells people about the lawyer in pink he went to law school with. I think it's hilarious.
I'm sorry this is so goddamn long. I can talk about Sam Chao for hours.
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