#because Louisiana my love 💕

[bywandandsword]

Since Hazbin Hotel popped off, I've seen a few times people asserting that there is something racist about Alastor's backstory, given that he is canonically a Creole from New Orleans, but his demon form does not have any overt indicators of his being a person of color

So here's a gentle reminder and clarification, as a Louisiana Creole myself;

"Louisiana Creoles (French: Créoles de la Louisiane, Louisiana Creole: Moun Kréyòl la Lwizyàn, Spanish: Criollos de Luisiana) are a Louisiana French ethnic group descended from the inhabitants of colonial Louisiana before it became a part of the United States during the period of both French and Spanish rule. They share cultural ties such as the traditional use of the French, Spanish, and Creole languages and predominant practice of Catholicism. Some mistakenly think the term is a racial designation, while in fact people of European, of African, and of mixed ancestry have all been termed "Creole" since the 18th century." (x, emphasis mine)

Please pay special attention to the last sentence. While many, probably most, Louisiana Creoles are of mixed-race ancestry, not all are. I'm not saying there aren't valid critiques of Alastor as a character, this just isn't one of them

[zepskies]

Hello my lovely friend! I would love to see an imagine/head canon of Dean and the reader seeing each other for the first time after he either comes back from hell or purgatory if you’d be up for it 💕 up to you whether it’s an established relationship or mutual pining 😉 thank you! 😘

Hello, my dear!!

Thank you so much for this imagine! I needed a bit of Dean. 😘

Now I went with Purgatory for this one (S8, E01 – “We Need to Talk About Kevin”).

I diverged from canon of Sam not looking for Dean to make sure if he was dead. Not just because I think that choice by the SPN writers wasn’t true to Sam’s character (Even Jared has said this lol), but because I think if Dean had a girlfriend at this point in time, Sam wouldn’t just abandon her to deal with Dean’s loss alone. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Song Inspo: Yes, I had one for this! Weirdly enough, it was the entire “Moneyball” soundtrack. The whole smooth but intense pace of it really drove me on this.

Word Count: 2,200 Warnings: 18+ only for some smuttiness.

Imagine: Reuniting with Dean, not knowing if things will be the same.

You’re doing the dishes when your phone rings.

You check the caller ID, frowning when the number is unfamiliar. But you answer with a thread of wariness while you’re holding a glass.

“Hello?” you answer. For a moment, there’s silence on the line. Your brows knit together in suspicion.

For months, you’ve been living with Sam and Kevin in this dusty cabin in the woods. Literally, in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. It was the only way you and Sam could try to protect the prophet from Crowley.

So the fact that you're getting a call at all is surprising in and of itself.

Your frown deepens. “Whoever this is, you have three seconds before I hang the hell up.”

“Hey…it’s me.”

Your suspicion fades, but shock overtakes you. Your breath stills in your lungs when you hear Dean’s voice. However, your brain can’t compute.

It’s been a year.

“Sweetheart, are you there?” he says.

You finally choke on a gasp, and the glass slides out of your hand and shatters in the sink.

“Hey, you okay?” his gruff concern is so very Dean that it continues to choke you into tears.

“Dean,” you utter. Your mouth trembles as your eyes close, and your tears find their own way down your cheeks. “I…I’ve been…you’re okay?”

“Well, I’m here,” he answers, with some dry humor, but he sounds off. You don’t know what to make of that, but now you’re worried.

You look down at your shaking hand, and you realize that there’s a small piece of glass that ricocheted into your palm. You ignore it, because all you can focus on is your boyfriend’s voice in your ear.

“Where…are you?” you ask. Every trembling, heave of breath brings you closer to a sob.

“Louisiana. Clayton, Louisiana,” he replies. His voice is even, but there’s emotion there too. You hear it, only because you know him so well. “Where are you?”

And how soon can you get here? his tone implies.

After Dean disappeared in the aftershock of Dick Roman’s death, you, Sam, and Kevin had been scouring every lore book on God’s green Earth. Nothing has gotten you closer to finding Dean in the last year.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to fully give up, but in recent weeks, you would never admit that your heart has been starting to falter. So has your body.

Sam watches you closely on the way out of the house, heading to the Impala. You’re grateful for the way he’s been looking out for you, but you also resent it. You don’t need help. You’re fine…mostly.  

As strange as it’s been living in this house, it’s become your safety blanket. Your cold shell where you can block off the rest of the world, as if time hasn’t been ticking by all these months outside of it.

But now you’re practically shaking. Call it nerves, lack of sleep, too much caffeine, too much crap food, stress, and grief. You ignore it, taking a firm grip of the passenger door handle and yanking it open. Sam drives.

The hours are excruciating. Your leg bounces restlessly, and Sam notices, but doesn’t comment. He does try to soothe you with your favorite music in the car. He tries to pick up conversation, but you’re not having it.

You’re even being pretty selfish right now. Sam had been without his brother for a year, just as you had been without. And here he is, trying to comfort you.

You can’t help it though.

You’re not okay. You don’t think you’ll ever be okay again until you see him.

Sam eventually pulls into the dingy motel in the middle of rural Louisiana. (And yet, somehow on the corner of a Hustler, one of Dean’s favorite sex shops. Your lips curve slightly.)

Sam’s calling Dean on his cell, but you’re too impatient to wait for the man to come out.

You jerk the car door open, and in your haste, you don’t realize that you’ve slammed the door shut.

“Hey, easy on my Baby.”

You turn with a gasp lodged in your throat, but not even that can escape when Dean comes into view. Complete with red plaid and old jeans and rough stubble that approaches a beard, and a duffel bag.

Dean’s smirk fades into a softer grin when he takes in the familiar curve of your face, the gentle frame of your body, the sight of your tears, welling up in your eyes.

You take in a shuddering breath, and you go to him. Dean drops his bag so that he can properly welcome you where you’re supposed to be.    

His arms wrap around your waist, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. He smells like motel soap and second-hand clothes, but all you care about is that he feels solid and alive and your heart’s just shy of shattering, or knitting back together. It beats a fast flutter in your chest.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he rumbles in your ear. You nod, even though you can’t help the way you’re shaking, crying, clinging to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You hate that those are your first words to him, but you can’t help it. That’s what you feel, down to your bones. “We tried so damn hard to find you…”

Dean pauses a bit on that, but he just shakes his head. He meets Sam’s gaze behind you and offers his brother a smile. Sam smiles back; he’s full to the brim at the sight of Dean, but for you, he’s patient. He can wait his turn.

“I know,” Dean tells you, holds you a bit tighter. “I'm all right. It’s not your fault, you understand?”

You draw another shaky breath and lean back far enough to see his face. You raise a hand to touch his cheek. When he stares down into your eyes, you know you’re going to be okay.

And so will he. You’re going to make sure of it.

In lieu of words, Dean leans down and captures whatever you might’ve said then with his lips. The kiss is heat and longing, both sweet and rough. It’s everything you need.

It’s a long drive all the way back to your cabin in the woods. Dean checks on you often while you’re passed out asleep in the backseat. He’s back in the driver’s seat of his car, hands wrapped around the familiar leather steering wheel, but he still doesn’t feel totally…right.

Despite being wrapped around the leather, his right hand feels empty. Like it needs the weight of a weapon. He’s still tense and on edge, even now, and Sam notices.

“What was it like?” he asks, quietly so he doesn’t wake you. He’s glad you’re finally sleeping.

“Purgatory?” Dean scoffs. “Like being deep in God’s freakin’ armpit.”

Sam’s brows knit together, but he waits, seeing if Dean will continue. And he does, after giving Sam a brief glance.

“It was monsters, Sam.” A never-ending twilight. Never a moment to rest. A wide-eyed existence of gnashing teeth and blood and black ooze.

When Sam inevitably asks how he got out of Purgatory, Dean is vague, evasive. Castiel didn’t make it, he admits, also in halting detail. But Dean is more willing to focus on how tired you and Sam both look. How pale your skin is. How it seems like this is the first hour of sleep you’ve gotten all week.

“How’s she been?” Dean asks, once again checking on you through the rearview mirror. Sam inhales deeply, making Dean frown.

“She’s been holding on,” Sam replies. “Strong, for Kevin especially. Poor kid’s too scared to go outside half the time.”

Dean turns to him with a frown.

“You’ve been taking care of her, right?” he asks.

Sam huffs, with a wry smile. “When she let me.”

Dean quirks a bit of a smile. That sounded like you. Stubborn at your best, damn near impossible at your worst. But the latter is what he’s worried about.

He later carries you inside the cabin, acknowledging your sleepy mumbles that you can walk, but not actually heeding your words. Sam tells him which one is your room, and Dean carries you there. By then you’re awake, but resigned to the fact that he isn’t going to let you down.

Your hand smooths up his arm, up the back of his neck and into his hair. It makes a pleasant tingle run up his spine.

“Your hair’s gotten long,” you muse, sorting your fingers through the strands. His hair’s darker too, not quite so dirty blonde, now leaning closer to light brown.

Dean smiles a bit. “If that’s all that’s changed, then I’d say I’m in good shape.”

He lays you down on the bed, and you bring him down with you by grabbing onto the front of his gray undershirt. He sinks down onto the edge of the bed and drifts a hand from your arm, to your face. He refreshes his memory of every angle, the soft feel of your skin. He knows his hands are rougher, but you feel the same.

You draw him into you and it begins.

Kissing him feels like taking a much needed breath. The way he grips your arms when you lick sensuously into his mouth—a sudden squeeze, an iron hold—it ignites your blood and the fire in your lower belly.

Your fingers rake into his hair. His solid grip moves to your hips, and you lie back when he guides you onto the mattress.

The sound of your breaths mingling together become shallow as you shove the plaid off his shoulders and ruck up the shirt. He does the same for your shirt and jeans, followed by his own. All that’s left it his skin against yours and rough hands squeezing fingerprint bruises into your hips and thighs.

You don’t mind at first; the strength of his hold and how much he wants you spurs you on. You’re slick and pulsing with need when Dean eventually slides home inside you. He has a hand tight in your hair, gripping tighter as he begins to move hard and fast.

“Dean,” you pant. You moan on his name, but you’re also trying to get his attention. You wince as his hand tightens, both in your hair, trapped against the pillow, and on your hip. You hold onto his wrist.

“Ease up, baby,” you whisper. You don’t want Sam or Kevin to hear you, even though you’re sure they could guess what you and Dean are up to.

But Dean doesn’t seem to hear you at first. You look up into his eyes, and you’re not sure if he’s entirely seeing you. It’s not like him, and it triggers warning signals in your mind. You have to wrap your legs tightly around his hips, squeezing his wrist even harder to stop him for a moment.

“Dean,” you insist. And he finally sees you.

When you soothe a thumb against his wrist, his eyes widen. He releases his hand from your hair, bracing against the bed instead.

He frees the other hand from your hip, and he sees the shape of his fingers already forming in your skin. He knows his hold was tight enough to bruise down to the bone.

It’s happened before, but not like this. Dean’s never lost control like that. Not with you, even in times like these.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he catches his breath, frowning deeply. His green eyes meet yours, raw and guilty. “I uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head at him with a thoughtful frown. You reach up to frame his face with both hands, and you wordlessly tug him down to you. Dean is somewhat reluctant, but he follows your guiding hands and meets your waiting kiss, tender and slow.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats against your lips. His voice is low and coarse, filled with the true depths of his emotions. Everything he's been trying to hide from you.

Your eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“It’s okay,” you reply, through sweeter kisses. “I love you. We're gonna be okay.”

He hesitates. Then, he nods, accepting your words and your warmth.

His hand slowly brushes against your thigh, soothing along your bruising skin. You still have your legs wrapped around his hips, but you lessen your own hold, now that he seems to have come back to himself.

You both realize then that it might not be okay for a while. But that too is all right. Because you’re nothing if not stubborn, and Dean is worth the challenge.  

He closes his eyes to breathe and center himself. They blink open at the feeling of your hand, insistent on his shoulder. Your face is both tenderness and determination.

You push against him and twist until he's the one on his back, on the bed, holding your hips, the two of you still joined. He looks up at you still with a measure of reluctance.

"I've got you this time," you tell him, stroking his cheek. His almost-beard prickles against your palm.

After a moment, you can see in his eyes that he believes you.

And you begin again.

AN: Gaaaah, this man. I'm weak every time I write about him. 🥲

I have another Dean imagine coming soon. Some special anon asked for the reverse of "Sam being in love with Dean's girlfriend."

So stay tuned for "Dean gives you an impossible choice." 😉

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[softguarnere]

Hi! I really love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something fluffy with Eugene x reader? He’s my favorite.

Avec Les Étoiles Dans Les Yeux

Eugene Roe x reader

A/N: Hello Anon! You're in luck, because I have been on a Eugene kick after listening to Shane Taylor's podcast episode 🥺 His status as one of the fandom's favorite characters is well deserved, imo (As always, this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy this 💕🕊️ Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of war

The night has been loud and full of excitement. All around Berchtesgaden, parties are carrying on into the wee hours of the morning. It would seem that rules do not apply anymore, as alcohol flows freely and the loot is collected openly. And, more importantly for you, love does not seem like such a thing that needs hiding anymore.

Love tugs on your heartstrings as you walk through the night, hand and hand with Eugene. It gathers in the back of your throat, too, threatening to spill out in sobs of happiness if you open your mouth to express it. The most you can settle for is squeezing his hand and glancing at his handsome profile, watching him as he stares up at the stars, his dark eyes full of them. Avec les étoiles dans les yeux. He squeezes back.

Throughout the war, you’ve had to hide this – all the love that has grown between you and Eugene. But now, with the German surrender and rules going unenforced, who really cares about fraternization? And who, if they saw you walking together, would dare to make an assumption about where you might be going together?

When you make it back to the house that you, Gene, and a few other medics have chosen to quarter in, you both freeze in the living room. The room Eugene chose on the first night is off to the left, and yours is to the right. Now you stand at a crossroads.

He lets out a little laugh as he turns to you. “You want to . . . ? Or I could come stay with you – but only if you want to, that is.” He adds the last part quickly, a gentle blush coloring his cheeks.

“Of course.”

You follow him, slowly, into his room. The house is dark, but Gene’s warm smile lights the way. This is the Eugene that so many of the people who know him miss seeing. Most of Easy Company only sees Doc Roe, the shy but resourceful and caring medic. But you’ve come to know – to fall in love with – Eugene, the man. A man who is funny and kind and romantic. Part of you wishes that everyone else could see him like this so that they could better understand him, but sometimes you’re glad that you have him all to yourself. Like now.

Still with a bit of the party in you, you spring onto the bed, laughing as the fluffy mattress absorbs the shock. Such a different sleeping arrangement from what you had back in Bastogne, Holland, or even Toccoa, for that matter.

Gene laughs, his smile carrying to his eyes as he follows you, although he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, calmly.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He asks.

Now it’s your turn to blush. You don’t try to hide it, though. You haven’t in a while. Eugene does something to you, and he deserves to see it. After all, he lets you see a side of him that most others rarely experience.

“Merci beaucoup,” you say, trying to remember the little bits of French that you’ve picked up from him during the war.

He nods in approval. “Tres bien.”

In the quiet of the house, you arrange yourselves so that you’re pressed into each other on top of the bed, leaning into the peace that exists there.

“You’re good at it,” Gene says quietly. “The French, I mean.”

“Well, I figure that I need to be, so that I can come visit you in Louisiana after we get sent home.” After the words have escaped your lips, you immediately regret them. Visiting Gene is something that you’ve thought about – perhaps fantasized about might be a more accurate way to put it – a few times. Although it would be nice to think that maybe he has also been dreaming of seeing each other after the war, you can’t be sure. Especially not when you feel him freeze beside you. You bite your lip to keep yourself from admitting to anything else, any more feelings that you assume that you share. Ice water fills your stomach at the thought that maybe this is only a wartime fling.

“Actually, I’ve been thinkin’ –“ His words send panic thrumming through your veins. Who knows where he might be going with this? “ – Would you want to visit me? All the way in Louisiana?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately.

“Because I was . . .” He clears his throat, like he can unstick the words he’s trying to say. Pressed up against him, it’s impossible to miss the warmth that floods his skin as he continues, “I was wonderin’ if maybe you might want to do more than visit Louisiana. Stay a while, I mean. Or . . . maybe just – you don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously – come home with me after they send us back.”

Is he asking you to come live with him in Louisiana? Sitting so close, he would have to be deaf to miss the way that your heart is tripping over itself in your chest. This is more than you’ve dared to imagine in your wildest daydreams.

You shift to look at him. He’s already looking at you, his expression so open and honest and timid as he waits. You could kiss him, right then and there. That would be your answer.

“Gene,” you breathe instead, all the happiness from back in the street threatening to flood over again. “Of course. I would love to come to Louisiana with you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “’Cause if you don’t want to, we could always go to your hometown. Or someplace else entirely.”

Once again you take his hand and squeeze it. “Louisiana sounds perfect,” you muse. And you mean it. On cold nights sitting in foxholes, he used to describe the sights and sounds of the South to you, describing it all with such love and care that you could swear his words warmed you right up. There’s nowhere else you would rather go.

“I guess I’ll have to perfect my French between now and then.”

“We can have a lesson now,” Gene says, a mysterious tone you’ve never heard before creeping into his voice. “Je t’aime.”

This time you can’t hold yourself back from kissing him. You press your lips to his cheek, smiling into the kiss.

“Easy,” you whisper. “I love you.”

A bubbly laugh, so unlike the Gene that everyone else thinks they know, escapes from his throat. “Darling, you’ve already got all the French that you need.”

[small-sinclair]

Hayyyy I just found your blog and love your work 💕

I was hoping to request bo with a future s/o that also doesn’t like being touched and is sad they might not get to experience love because there to scared to be touched

Ps: I hope your having a good day and your feeling well 🥺👉👈

-❤️‍🔥

Hello, Fire Heart Anon! Thank y'all for this request.

This is based off true events from when I was a kid. Younger, I didn't like holding hands, so my grandma made a short silk rope for me to hold when my family went out. If I wanted to hold hands or need to hold hands, they would slip the silk over my wrist and they tied the other end to their wrist. It was never too tight or loose, and it felt like I was holding their hand because I felt their strength at the end. They did this until I got comfortable with hand holding on my own time.

*******************

End of the Rope

Growing up, you hated touching or hand holding, and it made it hard to show how much you loved your family and friends. Saying 'I love you' was a good thing, yes, but you felt like it wasn't enough. So, when you went on this road trip to take photos, ending up living with the Sinclairs, somehow catching feelings with Bo, you didn't know what to do with yourself. Every wildflower you placed in his shop, little rocks in his truck, and small smiles you shot at him... it never felt like enough. Every time your felt read to hold his hand or just touch his sleeve, you felt the static at the end of your fingers and pushed away from it.

Bo is a hand-held man, he made that clear from the moment you met him. His hands were strong and scarred, but there were soft when his hand would brush your skin by accident. They were worn and roughed from work and growing up. His hand demand blood, demand work and oil, demand to be near yours but never once dared to touch you. He never understood why you didn't like to be touch, but he was more than happy to let you take your time. Yes, he was pride and held himself higher, but he wasn't a monster to you.

Bo yearned for the day to feel your touch, imaging how soft your hand would feel in his. Yet, he would look down at his hands and recoil at the sight. The scars from fights and scars that littered his wrist wasn't a pretty sight, and he did his best to hide them from you. Sometimes, you saw them, and it hurt Bo know you saw them. He would snap and tell you not to look, but he secretly wanted to feel your fingers over them to touch them as if he was glass.

But he'll wait for the say you're ready.

An idea came to him when he watched you picking flowers in the fields near the station, picking each daisy and forget-me-not with meaning and care. But, as he looked at you, something brought a smile to his lips, curling up slightly enough to make the Louisiana rivers jealous. He pushing himself off the door frame and went inside the shop, digging around in the old boxes. If it's not here, he'll go bother Vincent about it, but he had a new goal.

Outside, you picked flowers, taking each flower in your hands and fingers, rubbing the steams and smiling. You found your own happy place among the wax and spare parts. You stood and dusted off the dirt and grim. These flowers for Bo would look cute in his curls, and, maybe, he'll let you placed them. As you walked back to the station, you saw Bo standing over a box on the counter, his hands digging through fabric, tossing the once that felt nice out and leaving the bad ones in. You said nothing as you watched him confused, biting your lower lip and lifting a brow.

When he looked up at you, he glanced down at the box then the fabric. His face heats up in a soft red as he kept digging in the box.

"You okay, Bo?" You asked hesitantly.

"I have an idea," he murmurs, but he doesn't look up at you as he pushed the box towards you. "But 's a dumb one."

"Yeah?" You asked, walking in. You put the wildflowers on the seat next to the door as you looked over the box of fabrics. "Try me, though."

He wipes his mouth after licking his lips. "I remember ya don' like it when people touch ya." He wiped his hands over his pants. "So, I figured, well," he seemed to failing to find words to tell you but the words came back. "I got a box wit' fabric. So, pick somethin' ya like."

"Bo?"

"Please, trust me, darlin'?" When his eyes met yours, they looked desperate and pleading. He's been trying so hard to find something, and this was his finding: a box of fabric. "Pick somethin' ya like. Any will do in t'box."

You looked down and started feeling the fabrics. There was soft cotton ones, but you didn't like how they felt against your arms. There was felt, but your fingertips didn't like how they wiggled under your grasp. Then a light green silk fabric caught your eye. There were little red roses over the green on vines and little bushes. It felt perfect against your wrist, cool then warm, and your hands enjoyed how soft and smooth it felt. You held it up for Bo to see and he smiled at it.

"Okay," he whispered. He takes the fabric and step around the counter to be standing in front of you as he started to speak. "Vincent hated holdin' hands when we were youngin's. And I hated long shirts fer a bit, but Mama had us hold hands whenever we left home." He made a slip knot at one end and started on the other end. "So, Vin and I figured somethin' out. We used a short rope," he slipped his hand through the other end of the silk and held the other towards you, "somethin' soft lik' 'is an' we held hands lik' 's until Vincent and I got used to touching skin."

He was gentle when he took your wrist and placed it in the slip knot. The silk wasn't too tight or too loose; if felt like you were wearing a bracelet. You could feel his strength in the other end, your hand a respectful two feet away from his. You felt his hand wrap around his end, tugging lightly at your skin. Breathless, you looked up at him and felt butterflies circling around your body. It's like he's holding your hand without you touching or feeling his skin.

He gave a trying grin. "See? Doesn't feel too tight?"

You shook your head as you looked at the fabric again.

"Bo," you said as you pushed back tears. "Why... why are you doing this?"

He blushed again, looking down at the rope. "I-I know ya don' like touching, so... maybe this is good? For hand holdin'?"

"Are," you placed your words carefully as your fingers rubbed over the silk, your fingers inches away from his, "are you saying you... you want to hold my hand?"

"Don't you?" He asked, his head snapping at you. He felt dumb. Of course you didn't want to hold his hand! Stupid, Bo! This was so dumb!

You looked down at the rope as a soft smile formed. "This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me."

His eyes grew wide. "No, it ain't."

"I know, but..." you couldn't stop smiling. "I've always waned to hold your hand, too, but I hate skin touching me. I hate the way it feels. It's like static and needles poking at the skin. It feels like it burns." You met his eyes and smile widely, "But this? This is nice! I can feel your strength and warm through the silk and... and it's nice." You look down at his tied hand, large and strong. "This... this is nice. Thank you, Bo."

He caught your smile and something inside him swelled. Something screamed him to kiss you and call you his. Call you by his name at the end of his days and nights. It mixed over his eyes like a lore around fish and its scales. There something beautiful hidden behind your voice, behind your smile that made him want more. When you're ready, the day he feels your hand his his, arms around him as he holds your tightly, kissing your hair and your soft lips, he'll be there.

Was this love? It's something he wonders, and he'll hold that closely to his chest.

"Whenever ya want t' hold my hand," he said, clearing his throat, "just show me 'is an' I'll hold th' otha end." He he brought his end up, which brought your hand up with it, and kissed the center of the silk rope as if he was kissing your hand. "Deal?"

You smiled as he watched your fingers linger over his ghost kiss on the silk. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Outside, butterflies fluttered and landed on the bright flowers, fluttering around the petals as they watched you two. Seeing you two bloom in love would be the sweetest flower ever to cross the flowers of Ambrose.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Kiko I hope you had a great first day at your new job!!!! And I hope the shit weather we're getting in Louisiana isn't hitting your part of your state cuz boy am I not having fun anymore lol. I have 2 things to bug you with on this Tuesday morning- I do have a teeny tiny lil Goinko ask: I am so curious to hear Gojo's inner dialogue when he's watching Rinko fight. Like the genuine sorta oh shit she's tough, oh shit she aint weak, Jesus what a badass... I'm gonna fuck her xD The second- I have been toying with the idea of writing my own fanfic with my own OC and um... I can't seem to start. I have a decent idea of the general plot, no clue how it will end, but I open up Word, type two words, and then close the program. Idk if I need advice or encouragement lol but I look up to you a lot as a writer so I decided to make it your problem too 😅

RAI, HELLO! 💕

I did have a great first day! It was long and exhausting, but in a good way! 😊

The weather has just been kinda cold and foggy. Like, my drive home today was very foggy. Could barely see at all. But other than that, it. hasn't been too bad!!

YOU ARE NOT BUGGING ME BUT I WILL PLAY ALONG 😂

My answers are below the cut!!

Gojo's inner monologue when he sees Rinko fighting? 🤔🤔

In a few situations, he's super smug that she's doing so well because he knows she doesn't even realize or acknowledge how strong she actually is. So when she's just destroying something, he's all cocky and proud of her. It reminds him how much he loves her because she can take care of herself. One of the things he's always appreciated about her is that she doesn't let her insecurities or pride get her into situations that are too much for her to take. She's not arrogant. She doesn't show off. She's just there to get the job done. But that's what makes it so sexy to him.

So when he sees Rinko fighting, he's literally just like, 'That's my girl. So sexy and strong. I love her so much. Ass looks incredible, too. And she needs to hurry because as soon as she wraps this up, she's mine. Wonder how pissed she'll be if I just take her here-' because he's a horny boi who always wants to be inside her 😂😂

Advice for how to start with your fic?

Don't try to start from the beginning. Start somewhere in the middle, and work from there. The ending doesn't have to be established right away, either. That can develop as you figure out the story! But as for how and where to start, anywhere. Have a random bit of dialogue? Start with that. It doesn't have to stay in the end, but having something there will really help you. Write nonsense. Write ideas. Concepts. Anything to get those juices flowing. Because nothing is more daunting than a blank page.

Two things I saw recently made me realize that I already did these things most of the time:

Writing choppy, maybe cheesy or dumb dialogue. You can fill in the rest later, or not at all. You can change it up or edit it, but cutting and editing, or even re-writing, is easier than getting yourself to write the initial draft.

"You look like shit." "Sure know how to charm a girl, huh?" "You'd be more pissed if I lied to you." "True." "Still look awful, though." "Fuck off."

You don't have to put markers or indicators because it's a first draft. First draft and final draft are rarely going to match, and that's okay. Preferred most of the time, actually. But yeah, just toss that dialogue down to help you get started and then go from there!

Start with notes or random shit about what you want to happen. Some people put it in brackets to describe the setting, scene, or character's actions so that they can continue writing without being bogged down by the pressure to figure out the rest perfectly.

I'll provide an example or two from a WIP of the lockout key idea dump I posted a while ago. (I make no promises that I'll ever finish or post this, but it's the best example I could find that doesn't spoil a bunch of stuff for the other stories)

[he comes to ask for a key even though he's already maxed out his number of lockout keys. he ends up trying to lean in closer and she shoves a cookie in his mouth instead] - this one is a general idea and one thing I definitely want to happen in that scene/snippet

[fire drill in the middle of the night forcing everyone outside until the alarm stops going off. he forgets his key because he had to rush out while he was half-asleep.] - this one is describing the primary setting for the scene/snippet: they're outside, he's very sleepy, and he forgot his key.

All in all, don't be afraid of being random and choppy for your first draft!

I hope this advice helped, Rai! I'm afraid I might have babbled a bit... 🙃

IT WAS GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU. I HOPE YOU'RE WELL!! 💕💕💕💕

[spacefinch]

Magic School Bus Tumblr simulator, part 2

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

New life bird! (Saw it while my family and I were on vacation in Louisiana)

Painted Bunting (Passerina ciris)

👾computerdude Follow

That's my favorite bird right there! I love the colors!

⚾️baseball4life Follow

Did you see any crocodiles?

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

Of course not. There are no crocodiles in Louisiana. You were there when the park ranger was explaining that, weren't you?

⚾️baseball4life Follow

I forgot

🎨timdrawsstuff Follow

Go to this random coordinates generator and say in the tags how you would fare if you were dropped where it generates without warning. i’ll go first i’d be dropped in the middle of the fucking south atlantic ocean and perish.

🦖carlosaurus Follow

Ocean

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

Ocean

⚾️baseball4life Follow

Ocean

📚da-science-blogger Follow

Mount Grefell National Park in Australia

🐜keeshaaa Follow

Ocean

🪨arnold-perlstein Follow

Ocean

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

FUCKING ANTARCTICA 🥶❄️

👾computerdude Follow

Ocean

⚾️baseball4life Follow

You have been bonked by this empty wrapping paper tube.

Reblog to bonk all your followers with it.

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

bonk*

🎨timdrawsstuff Follow

THOONK

🦖carlosaurus Follow

THUNK

👾computerdude Follow

BONK

📚da-science-blogger Follow

According to my research, tadpole shrimps (genus Triops) are living fossils. Their ancestors can be traced back to the Devonian Period, and have not changed much since then.

They have a special adaptation for living in the desert. Triops eggs can enter a state of diapause, or a delay of development, when it’s dry. Once it rains, the eggs hatch.

🦖carlosaurus Follow

Ain't that the critter from that They Might Be Giants song

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

Fun fact: blueberries are the only fruit named after a color.

🪨arnold-perlstein Follow

star fruit?

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

so close! That is a shape 💕

🐜keeshaaa Follow

Does the "science side of Tumblr" still exist?

🪨arnold-perlstein Follow

Science side of Tumblr, what do you think?

📚da-science-blogger Follow

Protons

🦖carlosaurus Follow

I'm glad you're thinking positively

🐧penguin-scientist Follow

When I was a young boy, my father had what he called the bean jar. It was a jar full of black and brown beans. Whenever we misbehaved, he would remove one and tell us once the jar was empty, the world would end.

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

[My Chemical Romance voice] When I was... a young boy... my father... had what he called the bean jar

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

This is the best use of the Black Parade. I'm cracking up.

🦖carlosaurus Follow

When I was a young boy,

My father had what he called the bean jar

It was a jar of beans

He said son when it's empty you'll see

That the world will end in fire

That's what the bean jar means

He said will you

induce me to hasten

The pace of Armageddon

And catalyze our doom

Because one day

You'll drive me so crazy

I'll reach into the bean jar

Purloin the last legume

🦖carlosaurus Follow

What mouse walks on two legs?

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

Mickey

🦖carlosaurus Follow

Okay, what duck walks on two legs?

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

Donald

🦖carlosaurus Follow

No, all of them

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

This is the last time you make a fool of me in my own house, goddammit

🐜keeshaaa Follow

Picrew chain! Here's mine:

Link here

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

Here's mine!

🦖carlosaurus Follow

Mine as well

📚da-science-blogger Follow

⚾️baseball4life Follow

Here's mine. They did have a baseball cap option, but it didn't Look Right, so I chose a beanie

🎨timdrawsstuff Follow

Here is mine

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

🪨arnold-perlstein Follow

🦖carlosaurus Follow

How much money do you have?

⚾️baseball4life Follow

69 cents

🦖carlosaurus Follow

You know what that means 😏

⚾️baseball4life Follow

I don't have enough money for chicken nugget :(

🌈official-friz Follow

Our next science project will be on astronomy! You will be working in groups of two for this assignment, so please choose your partners by the end of the day!

🦎official-liz Follow

:) 🪐🔭

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

Partners... who needs them?

📚da-science-blogger Follow

According to my research, most stars in our galaxy are binary or multiple stars. This means they are in a two-or-more star system, and the stars orbit each other.

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

Ok, but what does that have to do with group projects?

📚da-science-blogger Follow

Lots of space objects have partners, so maybe you should, too.

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

I'm not partnering up with YOU. Go find someone else.

📚da-science-blogger Follow

FINE. I will.

⚾️baseball4life Follow

SPONSORED

💫star-shopping-network Follow

ON SALE NOW: BRAND NEW, SHINY STARS! You want them, we got 'em. We have red giants, protostars, yellow dwarfs, red dwarfs, pulsars, and more! To purchase your VERY OWN STAR and name it, call Horace Cope at 1-800-STAR-SHOPPING, or go to starshoppingnetwork.com.

📚da-science-blogger Follow

Okay gang, you know what to do

✈️wildcatwanda Follow

K

🦖carlosaurus Follow

U

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

N

⚾️baseball4life Follow

G

🪨arnold-perlstein Follow

P

🌟janet-is-awesome Follow

O

🎨timdrawsstuff Follow

W

📚da-science-blogger Follow

P

👾computerdude Follow

E

🐧penguin-scientist Follow

N

🐦‍⬛birdgirl Follow

I

🦖carlosaurus Follow

S

🐜keeshaaa Follow

character names and blogs below the cut:

Phoebe: birdgirl

Wanda: wildcatwanda

Dorothy Ann: da-science-blogger

Carlos: carlosaurus

Tim: timdrawsstuff

Arnold: arnold-perlstein

Ralphie: baseball4life

Keesha: keeshaaa

Mikey: computerdude

Ms. Frizzle: official-friz

Liz: official-liz

Dr. Cecil Byrd (Phoebe's uncle): penguin-scientist

Janet: janet-is-awesome

Horace Cope: star-shopping-network

[cybernet1c]

Watched house of wax with my stepfather last night but I'll have to rewatching it again when he's out bc jfc shut THE FUCK UP geezus but uhm. Lester and I are now happily married my favourite part is either the scene where fucking uhm. Wade (idr how his last name is spelled sorry but Sam Winchester for u girlies) was still alive under the wax but Nolan or whatever his name was was tryna get him out but was just pulling his skin off. Or the infamous super glue scene, but the whole scene not just the.. scene. Also when Bo snipped the tip of her finger off 💕💞💖💗💓💝💘 so who wants to kidnap Lester and Vincent to give them better lives and kick bos ass (even if I still love him </3) I love that the whole town is wax but it's simply unrealistic. They're in fucking Louisiana. It's hot as fuck there. That shits MELTED. my favorite death was probably Paris Hiltons character, Paige, who was also the smartest in the movie. MC whatever the fuck her name was been walking up the stairs whenever she CANNN like BRO THE HOUSE IS MELTING GET OUT DON'T GET HIGHER. Her brother threw the bottle at Bos truck who could've killed them if he had a gun and wanted to. Nolan's whole personality was dumbass with a camera (still love him tho) Wade decided to get into Lester's car, y know, the guy who has a big ass pile of roadkill- But Paris and her bf were pretty smart, horny, but smart. Her bf went to turn the music back on and was ambushed, she was asleep yet STILL had that scene with Vincent, and just because Vincent caught her doesn't mean she wasn't smart. Esp when she hid in the car

[takeyourpillsbitchh]

I got tagged by the lovelies @energievie @ardent-fox and @shinygalaxyperson to do the Macy Tag Challenge thanks babies💜💜

How old are you? I am a mere 23 years old, but sometime I feel like I’m 60 when my sciatica flares up

What do you do for a living? I currently work at a zoo, but I was a stay at home mom for 4 years and have plans to go back to school to work in the funeral service industry!

Dream vacation destination? Greece! It’s so beautiful there, it’s also where I want to retire.

Favorite color? Basically any dark shade; navy blue, emerald green, violet, magenta, mustard yellow, amber etc. Also a special love for pastels like rose, sky blue, mint green, lilac, periwinkle and so on.

Last thing you drank? Diet Dr. Pepper

Last song you listened to? Flowers by Lauren Spencer Smith

Relationship status? Open, together 6 years, married 2💕

Where are you from? Originally Louisiana, but I’ve moved a few places; honorable mentions are Utah and Virginia.

Biggest pet peeve? Chewing. I just can’t do it. My husband? A partner? The dog? My son? A stranger? Myself????? Especially if I’m overstimulated already??? The sound of chewing food/gum just makes me irrationally angry lol which low key sucks because when I’m anxious I chew on things like pen caps and the sound drives me absolutely mad🫠

Tell me a secret?: hmm, my dads been in prison since I was a baby. I grew up in/around prisons my whole life. He is still there after 22 years, we hope he’ll come home one day…but secretly I have my doubts.

Most of the people I would tag have already been tagged but I think I’ll tag @mikhailoaleksandrmilkovich @gallavich-af @mikhailoisbaby or anyone else who wants to play😘

[brandnewhuman]

Hi!!!💕 Just wanted to say I really adore and love your blog. Stumbled across it last night and just in awe🥺💕. I was also wondering if you could please do a match up for me?💕

I’m almost 20, will be in October^^ I absolutely love the fall. All from the changing of the leaves to having fires and being in jeans as well as sweaters. My favorite type of music differs from classic rock to metal and music from the 40’s like Billie holiday. I’m around 5’6 ;-; and chopped my hair off so it sits on my shoulder and dyed it red. I absolutely adore my reptiles. I have 2 beardies, a boop noodle and turtle named tim☺️ I get very shy around people I like. I mainly talk when spoken to, so most of the time I’m quiet. Love to snuggle and thrive off of physical affection and acts of service💕 I do have a philly accent so I tend to say things like “cawfee” instead of  “coffee” and “mondie” instead of “Monday.” I hope this is enough🥺💕💕 And thank you☺️💕💕🖤

I paired you up with...

♡BO SINCLAIR♡

Ç_Ç I know I might come off as repetitive but everyone here has been so kind to me. Really thank you♡ 

Back on track now 

WHEN I TELL YOU I HAVE BEEN STARING AT YOUR REQUEST FOR 20 MINS CAUSE I COULDN'T MADE UP MY MIND. 

like I thought about Michael but then It didn't quite fit well, then I was like "okay maybe rz michael" but nope.

I went through all the fuckin Michael's and every single slasher and the only one that I kept thinking about was Bo. 

You have probably seen the post about Bo singing so that's the main reason I chose him. I can picture both of you dancing slowly in the kitchen while making breakfast, smiling while looking into each other's eyes and him humming along to the song.

i- my heart 

Okay to the next point. I went to do some research about fall in Louisiana, cause I wanted to make sure it's a place where you can still have all the nice fall things. 

And it is!! Has everything you may look for as fall starts^^

I think Bo would decorate the whole town with Halloween/fall themes so he can take you to nice little dates around to show you everything he has done. 

Bo is kind of reluctant with any type of animal. Hell, he didn't even want jonesy at first and now look at him. He might be curious about your pets but won't ask anything cause he doesn't want to sound stupid so if you catch him staring just tell him about them!!

This man is the most charming and flirty person alive so he can easily carry a conversation without letting it not once fall in an awkward silence. He actually likes that you don't talk much because even if he seems really confident in small talks he is absolutely terrified of bringing more intimate topics. If you don't tend to talk much he feels much more comfortable cause he knows he can pick and choose whatever he feels to talk about. 

He is the CEO of acts of service. Bo struggles in showing openly how he feels, or to put it better, he struggles to let it out in a healthy way. So having the opportunity to show he cares by doing things to make you happy is going to be such a relief for him. He wants to feel needed, helpful and like you know you can count on him for anything. As for physical affection, he actually doesn't mind it at all. He's really touchy but at the same time is a sort of way to reassure he has the whole hugging ecc

He's showing you he loves you and he actually wants you near without having to say it. 

I have this feeling he would love and make fun (in a lighthearted way) of your accent. Like he finds it really funny especially when you get mad about something. 

This matchup made think of this song

[makeitcajun]

I’ve gotten sooo many comments on the color fade of my #veryveroskirt and #veryverovneck that I had to post one more pic… Gotta admit that I really, really love 💕💕💕this set. Both patterns are bottom up designs and work with a front and back panel so getting the color variants to match was sooo easy.😁 I used 2 separate cakes of yarn. One was dedicated to the front panels and the second dedicated to the back panels. I have to give a 📣 shout out to @hobbii_yarn Sultan cake🧶 yarn👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻. The color gradients matched up perfectly…I didn’t have to do any cutting or piecing together….YAY……very few ends to weave in and no worry about trying to measure for accuracy. 👍 If you know me, I really hate cutting yarn…it’s like seeing your child in pain and not being able to do anything about it, (I literally want to cry😢) Plus, if you notice in my feed most of my garments are all one color, because I really stress over trying to match things up. Thanks to @knittingtipsy ‘s consistency with her patterns, when I finished the skirt, I just picked up the yarn I had left and continued on with the top…such a smooth transition. Seriously, if you have never made a garment 🤔 before, you need to give this pattern a try🏖🌴….You won’t be dissappointed. I’m purposely showing you my backside because I need for you to see that the pattern is pure goddess-ness….The measurements are so spot on. The skirt is tight enough to be slimming and yet the skirt doesn’t cup my butt or looks too tight from the back…. So guys and girls, feel free to drool🤤 as I walk by (and please turn around for a second glance) 🤩 because I look just as good walking away from you as I do walking towards you!!!!! Be sure to check #veryveroskirt to see all of the garments made so far (plus their varying lengths) We’ll definitely want to see your version as well! You can find 🔎 the Very Vero Skirt and Very Vero V-Neck patterns by going to the links in @knittingtipsy bio . Pattern: Very Vero Skirt 
Designer: @knittingtipsy
Yarn: @hobbii Cotton Kings Sultan Color: Rock Crystal (at Maurice, Louisiana) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cgj8yGku85r/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[pink-apollo]

Yo hear me out......Lester with a s/o....THATS JUST LIkE JESSICA RABBIT I SEE IT WITH LESTER BEING ROGER RABBIT AND HAVING A S/O THATS JESSICA OH GOD IM IN LOVE

YES, YES, AND YES! Anon I live by this!!

Now imagine right? You doing your thang, driving down in Louisiana dressed in a nice dress that has a low cut like Jessica rabbits does, when your car breaks down and so you pull to the side and start to tinker around until some beautiful short scruffy man pops out off his truck to offer some assistance, but before he can say a word he is practically awe struck at you. With your hair done, make up (if you like it that is), outfit, just full blown out beautiful to this man and he just kinda stands there like 👀😅 Poor mans heart is pounding.

Lester is in a full blown out sweat as he leans over you car, picking and looking around to see what’s wrong. He can’t help but to use a rag every so often because his hands start to get clammy. Once he finds the issue he gets his tools from his truck and works right away. You manage to find a water bottle and offer it to him as well as a snack and he just about hits his head on the roof of the car because how nice and sweet you are to him😭 don’t scare him like that🥺

Right after he fixes the issue you hold his face with your two hands and smooch him, beaming down at him because he fixed your car for free and was such a gentleman about the whole ordeal. At this point he’s practically putty in your hands and just stares up at you, pupils blown wide, drunk like smirk on his face and cheeks a rosey red. Love sure do be a knockin on his door😌

I feel like utter crap, my chest hurts so bad from coughing and head hurts like hell from that and sneezing. Hope you guys liked this💕

[satorhime]

hey, you can ignore this if you want. i just don't have anyone to confirm about this and thought you're one of the best person to ask. my question would be: is it cultural appropriation to write a fanfic with black character and made that character uses aave? (a totally non-profit fic, unless you count masturbation as a profit🌝). if you choose to answer this, thank you in advance. if you refuse, that's all right too, no hard feelings :) have a great day!

hi love, i’m glad you thought to ask someone about it !! before i give my opinion on this, just know that every black person doesn’t feel the same way that i do. a percentage may not care, and a percentage may be the complete opposite. (also i got your other ask and you’re fine lol) 💕🌸

i don’t think that it is cultural appropriation when a non-black person writes a black character who uses aave, if done the correct way. many people write black characters and end up with stereotypical caricatures who only serve the non-black main character instead of a normal portrayal of how black people are. the loud token black. i don’t know if this is a character you’re borrowing or an oc/reader insert but it would be good to ask yourself some questions first: why this particular character uses aave before slapping in all of the terms you know lmao. okay so, do you just want them to use aave to seem more black-coded? are they from the suburbs in predominantly white communities or not from a state where the actual dialect ( not the “internet slang” ) is common? if so, they may not use aave at all or they may code switch unknowingly when around non-black people. a lot of black people don’t use aave in professional settings like work either, for the same reason.

for example, i’m from the south and a lot of the words i use are mixed in with southern shit, new orleans slang, louisiana french etc. if you were to hear me talk without code switching and i told you to “go shut that door for me” door would sound a bit like dough and for would sound a bit like fuh. what i’m getting at is the character using aave has to make sense. also i should say that black women and black men use aave a little differently too. just remember while writing not to use what you see the internet use because most people irl won’t say “on fleek” and while you may hear a black girl say “it’s giving [insert what it is giving lmaooo]” irl, it’s unlikely that a straight black dude will say something like that. 

i could go on but yeah, write the character. just do your research, be mindful and respectful hehe! (๑╹◡╹๑)

[oldsouldreamer85]

So, I wasn’t sure if I was going to do this today. But after last night I really need to unload/get some personal things off my chest.

I really don’t like the idea of my little blog becoming a negative space for whatever reason. But I’ve been going through some emotional things that I really need to vent on. From the minute I joined Tumblr, the Buddie/9-1-1 fandom, interacting with the MCU fandom a bit here and there too, along with focusing even more on things and people that bring me joy I have felt safe, protected and truly happy within a community in an online space that I haven’t in a very long time (aside from texting/DMing close online friends of course. You know who you are). So, thank you to my mutuals, followers and friends for making that be the case. 💜💕💜

Last night I had a lot of thoughts in my head. Like steps to take towards climate change, for example. Heavy, complicated topics like that. Heh. And I went to my dad trying to talk with him about these thoughts, right? Rather than talking these thoughts out with me, saying he either agreed or disagreed or just didn’t know he proceeded to tell me how my ego was getting in the way, how I was being selfish, that I need to focus more on taking care of others to be happy. That despite what I might think he KNOWS me. His attitude of “I’m older than you so I know better” bullshit mentality. I don’t, I don’t know why that is ALWAYS his response when he’s trying to “fix the problem” and/or ‘mansplain’ my thoughts away.

Never mind the fact he doesn’t know all the hard-work I’ve put into daycare the past 16 years actively TAKING CARE OF OTHERS or that I help both him and my mom with so many things around our house, with Sadie (our dog) and other things that need to be done. He’s just catching a glimpse of who I am when I interact with my nephew. I’m so exhausted sometimes, but I keep going. Especially when it comes to the negative thoughts that have tried to have control in one way or another since I was 12.

I feel like within this last year I’ve come a long way in terms of what it means for my own self-care physically and mentally speaking and how to truly love myself in a way I never have before. More recently I’ve been trying to figure out what my boundaries are through trial and error. It’s a process. And I don’t know why I continually go to him expecting a different result than the ones I get. Talk about frustrating and exhausting.

Anyway, last night in bed I ended up having an anxiety attack after our “conversation”. And then I had another one again roughly an hour ago if I’m being entirely honest. That’s why I knew I needed to come on here and just unload. Let everything go with you all. Thank you.

Okay, considering it’s my birthday I really want to concentrate on other things I’ve wanted to share for a while. 

1. I was a preemie. Born 3 months premature, just under 2 lbs. Had I been full term I would’ve been born in July not April. So technically a Cancer rather than an Aries. I definitely relate to the Cancer horoscope more often than Aries for sure.

2. Tangled and Big Hero 6 are 2 of my go-to Disney movies when I feel like emotional crap. I have a MAJOR crush on Go-Go, Wasabi, Flynn and Rapunzel too, btw. 😁😉 

3. In terms of the MCU I love imagining myself in Louisiana sometimes just floating in the Wilsons’ boat with Sam and Bucky. Very calming, happy mental exercise. Hee hee

4. I actually started watching 9-1-1 because of Peter Krause (Bobby Nash). He was on my mom’s show Parenthood. And I figured it could be a show the 2 of us enjoy together. 5 seasons later we love it for so many reasons... The Buckley-Diaz family included. 💗🚒🚑🚓

And finally...

5. My sister and brother-in-law gave me a Spider-Man coloring book for my birthday and the VERY FIRST THOUGHT I had was: “Oh. OH! I could color Spider-Man purple. I wanna color him PURPLE!” I’m such a Riley Matthews sometimes. 💜🥰 🤣

If you’ve stuck with this post all the way to the end, thank you. Thank you for your support, understanding and love. I love you all!! 💜💕💜

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

I saw the wip and got excited lol anyways>>> tell me something about plausible deniability!! (or maybe a snippet? your call)

thank you for tagging me 💕💘

Hey! Thanks for the ask! Plausable Deniability is tricky to describe but I can give you this snippet!

Dean didn't do very well with sitting still, at least not when that was what he was told to do. Especially not when a psychotic, empathic vamp was sitting in their dungeon refusing to expound on the cryptic comments she was making every two minutes. It wasn't like they could beat the information out of her. As much as Dean would love to introduce that twisted little girl to his knuckles a few times, he knew that the moment he stepped into that room with her, punching Marty would be like killing Sam. It was something he simply couldn't do.

"This is taking too long." Dean moved to stand but his younger brother shoved him back onto the splintering wooden bench.

"It's been seventeen minutes, Dean," Sam sighed. "Cas said to wait until he calls, so thats what we're gonna do."

Dean groaned. "I just- I don't like it, Sammy!"

"You've said that."

"That kid is dangerous. And Jack? I mean, who knows how deep she's got her hooks in him. Jack might not even be Jack anymore!"

"You've said that too."

"How can you be so calm about this?!" Dean stressed.

"Because its all I've been listening to for three days," Sam deadpanned, shooting his brother a look. Dean paused, a little stunned.

"... And you're sure its only been seventeen minutes?"

"Dean, I have never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Huh..."

Dean decided that shutting his mouth would be the best thing he could do, so he turned his gaze back out to Main Street and watched the cars go by. There was a red one... then a blue one... then a grey one... ooh, and a really nice one... and...

Wait.

Was that a Hellcat?

Yep. There it was. A silver Dodge Hellcat parked right off the road. Dean would never miss a car like that. It must have belonged to a visitor as he'd never seen it in town before. The licence plate was from Louisiana so Dean concluded that it probably belonged to someone on vacation. Yet, something about that bothered him. No one in their right mind came to Lebanon, Kansas unless they had to. It wasn't exactly a vacation hotspot. The last new car to drive into the little town had been his, as far as Dean knew, and something about this whole situation just felt off somehow. He didn't like it.

"Sir? Uh, excuse me, but may I speak with you for a moment?" The sudden voice startled Dean from his thoughts and he whipped around to face the speaker. Sam jumped, following suit.

Just behind the bench the Winchesters had been sitting on, stood a man. Actually, to call him a boy would be a better description, now that Dean got a good look at him. He was as tall as Dean, if not a little taller, but his face told the hunters he couldn't have been much older than Jack. (Physically, anyway.) The boy stood draped in the shade of door way of Lebanon's best sweet shope holding a rather impressive sized bowl of ice cream in his hand. A rogueish grin spread across his sharp features at Sam and Dean's reactions to his sudden appearence, his brown eyes sparkling with a certain degree of mischief.

"Did I scare you?" The boy asked tilting his head. He had a sharp British accent and his light voice rang through the air clearly.

"No," Dean said, his tone rather harsh. Then again sneaking up on a hunter was a difficult thing yet this person had done it with ease. So perhaps some caution was warranted. Besides, the kid was British and if Dean were to count how many British people had betrayed him, he was sure he'd end up with a number greater than thirty.

The grin on the boy's face grew wider and several alarm bells went off in Dean's head. "I apologize. That wasn't my intention."

"Wasn't it?" Sam asked, skeptical. The boy glanced between them, raising a brow.

"Uh, no? Who does that?" He laughed. It wasn't nervous, so the boy was clearly sure of himself. "No, I'd like to ask for your assistance, actually."

Dean shot his brother a look. All sorts of warning bells were going off with each word this kid said and, judging by the look on Sam's face, his brother felt the same. Dean glanced back at the boy, who's face softened a little.

"Please? I really need your help," He pleaded, glancing back and forth between Sam and Dean.

"What's you're name, kid?" Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm Kol," The boy replied easily.

"What do you need, Kol?" Sam asked, mimicking his brother's closed posture.

"I'm looking for someone - a girl."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me too."

Kol laughed a bit, shaking his head. "No, no. Nothing like that! She's my daughter, which is weird because she's sixteen and looks like she could be my sister." He shoved his spoon into his ice cream and stepped out of the shadows to stand directly in front of the Winchesters.

Dean raised a brow. "You have a kid?" Kol couldn't have been older than twenty.

Kol shrugged. "She's adopted."

"Huh."

"What does she look like? Do you- do you have a picture of her?" Sam wondered, at least attempting to be helpful. Kol hissed through his teeth.

"No, I don't, sorry." He grimaced. "Its a long story, but I can describe her to you."

"Okay. Uh, go," Sam agreed. Kol flashed him a grateful smile.

"She's a pretty little thing with the sharpest tongue you've ever heard, but she's still really kind actually. Uh, she's really thin - doesn't eat well the poor thing - and really short too. I don't even know if I'd give her five foot, to be honest. She's got really long black hair and her eyes are grey, and also a little bit creepy but don't tell my wife I said that..." Kol trailed off, running a hand through his hair. Sam shot his brother a worried glance which Dean caught out of the corner of his eye. Kol's description sounded like an exact match for the vampire in their dungeon. "Bloody hell... Davina's gonna murder me..." Dean turned his eyes back to the rambling British kid. Kol looked up to Dean again, seeming to search his face for something while his rambling continued. "I mean, is it really my fault? She's a bit of a free spirit, that one. Positively certifiable, but we knew that!" Dean didn't like how the boy's brown eyes seemed to drill into his own.

"What's her name?" Sam cut in, trying,to keep the nerves from his voice.

"It's Wonder." Kol answered. "We call her Wonder."

Relief flooded through Sam and Dean simultaneously. "Well, Kol, we'll keep an eye out for her," Sam reassured.

Kol grinned. "Really?"

"It's no problem." The brothers turned to leave, in hopes of escaping the odd British boy, but Kol's voice gave them pause.

"She's not a bad girl, really. She just get's distracted easily." There was something oddly pointed about Kol's words. His voice lowered into something almost sinister. "She tends to make friends with the wrong people."

Dean paused. "Good to know," He said over his shoulder. "Uh... bye."

A soft chuckle rang through the air and sent a chill down Dean's spine. It had nothing to do with the January weather.

"Thanks for the help, Darlings."

Dean whipped around but the boy was already gone. As if he'd vanished in to thin air. Like he was never even there at all...

Feedback is appreciated!

[grandathenaeum-scenarios]

omg i just saw you answered my ask 😭✨😊 you’re always so kind in your answers :’) if you’re not busy, i have 2 questions 💖 1. do you have anything fun planned for new years/the holidays? 🎉🎂 2. what do you think new years in the ereve gang would be like? do you think they would have certain traditions? (or none at all?) 🍬✨🥂 and also a request … what do you think confessions with pst would be like…? (hcs, i guess) 💕💝 i feel like he would be the type to ignore his feelings for a person until someone else would point it out but once he realizes he would be pretty forward in his advances. or maybe i’m wrong? 🤔 sorry for all the questions (´；ω；`) have a nice day ^^ ✨😇💖

omg thanks for sending in another ask!!! i love doing these :)))

so 1) im taking a trip down to east texas (pine tree country) to visit my fiance's mom and little brothers!! it's abt a 4 hour drive from here in central texas and they have a lot of land that my siberian husky gets to run forever in. the air out there is so fresh, i think ellinia would smell like east texas/west louisiana during spring

2) i love this oml 😭 i think cygnus would throw a little party every year where everyone stays up until it hits new years, but she always falls asleep by 11pm and they gotta nudge her awake at 11:59 :') maybe oz and hawkeye put on some light shows with fire and lightning? oz for sure bc she a lil pyromaniac. then whoever has a new years resolution will share that!! i can imagine eckhart going "idk i don't really have anything i want to do differently" every single year tho

and ohohoho i will have to do a separate hc post for that !!! i do agree with you i feel like he just doesn't think about that sort of stuff consciously, but will display pretty obvious signs of affection when he's falling in love. when someone spells it out for him he's like oh??? yes this behavior i am doing suggests that i am in love,,,,,, hmm it sure does,,, i gotta do something abt that,,,, and then he'll do cute shit like buy flowers and your favorite dessert/food. stressed out and feeling tense?? he'll offer to massage your shoulders (but also book a massage therapy appointment for you because he does think you deserve to get professionally treated). pst gives sugar daddy vibes tbh despite his career choice

hope ur day goes wonderfully too and happy holidays/new years!!!! always feel free to dm if u wanna talk abt anything <333

[bcdwclves-a]

@hostmortem​ said: 🦄💕😡 for stinky deer man

let’s talk about it. || 

send 🦄 for a physical health headcanon. 

While most of Tumblr believes that Tumblr Sexymen should be stickman, and believe that some bag of sticks and bones is a complete and total “Daddy Waddy”, I’m chiefly on the opinion that Alastor is a lil’ jacked. Just a lil’ pumped up. At least enough by the standard that requires him to chase down, kill someone, drag their limp, lifeless 100-200+ pound body back to his kill-house a few miles away and effortlessly strip down their body to freshly packed meat. 

That much effort should make ANYONE a lil’ bit of a pumped out freak. At least a lil’ muscle. So, MY Alastor is definitely well-built and has some muscle to him. Also, he’s hella-scarred up. Though, not from attack dogs or anything like that. People like fighting back, especially against the inevitably that comes from a brutal axe-killing, so his body is in all sorts of damaged condition from his victims fighting back against him. People in the 30′s did NOT fuck around. 

Also, his scars are also mainly from the WAR (the first one), so his body is in all sorts of conditions. 

-

send 💕 for a love headcanon. 

Alastor hasn’t had the chance to love all too often, even when he was alive and a considerably attractive bachelor, but being a serial killer that offer totems and sacrifices to his Eldritch God in the outskirts of the swamps of Louisiana, leaves very little room for concepts like love and affection. Truly, the only person he could say he’s loved in his life was that of his ailing mother but when she died right after his coming back from the war, there wasn’t much room for the seed of love to grow for other people.

He loved the entertainment of his business, but juggling entertaining and hosting and serial killing in the name of your “god”, there were barely any flings he would recall being worthwhile but he’s definitely flirted here and there with a couple of the singers he’s put onto his radio show or with men and women at the bar he would go to unwind with today’s entertainment. Maybe a one-night stand here and there but love? He’s never truly and really loved, given his all, to someone dear and near to his heart. 

But, he figures, once he’s actually loved and will  be loved back, he’d give it his all. He’d worship them, devote his everything to them. Because whoever manages to see all the good through all the grime and the blood and the killing and the death, is someone worth keeping around, no matter the circumstances. 

-

send 😡 for an anger headcanon. 

Alastor’s anger is RIGHTEOUS. 

He attempts at being the better, bigger, and GRANDER person with keeping a lid on his anger but when there’s no release and the situation is so indeterminately situated to cause him anger, he loses his cool. But only for a split second, enough to peel back the layers of rage that boil and brew underneath all his bullshit of being all smiles. He smiles angrily, but there’s something maddening that drives him to drop the facade for a moment. 

But he believes his anger should have a point. There should be a reason he dwells within so much rage, because he’s seen what witless, pointless rage can do to someone and what it can cause someone to do to someone they love. He knows how dangerous anger can be. So, he always attempts to keep a lid on his own anger, because if he does, there’d be no going back for him once all that hate is released out from him.