#bigfoot strutting away

[andy-clutterbuck]

Andy being an adorable little shit Bts of TWD 8x13

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Modern au where feyre and Rhys are roommates and she accidentally kisses him

I Do Bad Things with You

Smut//2486 words

“Gods, do you ever shut up?” Feyre snapped.

Not that she was actually angry. She pissed at herself if anything, for being so fucking wet for her piece-of-shit roommate, even when he was being annoying.

Rhys just smirked. “I was only saying-”

“That maybe next time I should come home earlier so I don’t interrupt your beauty sleep with my loud stomping,” cut in Feyre.

When Rhys had seen her miniskirt and red lipstick, he knew exactly where she was headed. And he had preceded to comment on how loud she had been last time she’d returned from hooking up with some guy - Isaac maybe? - when she had apparently very noisily awoken him in the early hours of the morning.

Rhys winced. “I was only suggesting you try to be a bit more mindful of your surroundings-”

Feyre interrupted once more. “Mindful of my surroundings? Like all the times you’ve brought home some girl and made her scream in the room literally right across from mine? Do you know how hard it is to get to sleep with earbuds in at the loudest volume so you don’t have to hear your annoying roommate fucking some random chick?”

Rhys didn’t even have to decency to look embarrassed. He just smirked that smug smirk of his and said, “They certainly seem to enjoy it, don’t they?”

“Good lord,” Feyre muttered. Though while she may fake irritation, something tight coiled in her gut. Thinking back on the noises those women made, they did seem to enjoy it. And Feyre couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of noises Rhys could draw out of her.

Rhys and Feyre had moved in together totally by accident. Feyre’s best friend Mor had set up this whole situation just to bother her, probably, being Rhys’ cousin. She had thought they could become friends at first, and when he had turned out to be a smirky, egotistical jerk, avoiding him had seemed the better option. But Rhys was always there; helping Feyre with random shit, flirting, bothering her when she told him to piss off, flirting some more...

And now he somehow had the nerve to point out his skills in the bedroom right after criticizing Feyre’s ability to walk without sounding like Bigfoot.

“How about this?” Feyre started. “I’ll remember to tiptoe when I come home. You stop bringing ladies who don’t know how to be quiet into our apartment. And we end this conversation becasue I am really not in the mood right now.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if you also promise to stop being so rude. I’ve only ever been nice to you, Feyre.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Feyre would have felt like shit. She never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings (unless they really deserved it). But from the mischievous twinkle in Rhys’ eyes, she knew he was just trying to provoke her. Bastard.

“Go fuck yourself,” Feyre said flatly, and took a step toward the door. Past Rhys.

And, of course, she tripped over the edge of the rug. Because nothing in this fucking apartment could be easy. Not with him.

Feyre slammed into Rhys with a shriek, and they both hit the ground. Rhys had cushioned Feyre’s fall, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. Not that that’s what she thinking about right now. Not when she fell so hard her face slammed into him. Her lips.

Feyre was kissing Rhysand. And even though she’d imagined this far too many times before, she could not enjoy it. One, because their faces being violently slammed together wasn’t exactly pleasurable. And two, because she was freaked out.

She jolted up into a sitting position. On Rhys. Oh lord, was Feyre really straddling Rhysand Night in the middle of the kitchen floor?

When they’d fallen, limbs had gone flying. It wasn’t just their lips that had accidentally touched. Rhys’ hands were under the bottom of Feyre’s skirt. On her bare ass. And she was literally sitting on his dick.

“Um, sorry,” Feyre squeaked. Her face was definitely bright red. And her ears. And her neck. Any yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t scrambling off of him. She was just sitting on him, with her hands on his chest, paralyzed.

Rhys also seemed to be paralyzed, because his hands were not moving from her ass cheeks. For the first time since Feyre had met him, he actually looked flustered. He was also blushing, and there was a shocked expression on his features.

“You’re fine,” he croaked in reply.

Feyre brain finally started functioning. “Oh gods, I should-”

She stopped speaking and pulled her hands away from Rhys’ chest. He yanked his hands out of her skirt. Just when Feyre was about to slide off of him, however, she felt something. Underneath her.

Rhys was getting hard.

From the panicked look on his face, Feyre knew he realized what she had felt. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re fine,” Feyre said, repeating his earlier words. Her voice was strangely calm, indifferent even to her own ears. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Feyre felt no regret. Only lust coursed through her mind right now.

Rhys blinked. “What?”

“Well I have really wanted you to fuck me for a while, and this whole situation is turning me on, but since that could be nothing and I could end up doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I’m asking. Do you want to have sex with me?” The words were so matter-of-fact. This is it, Feyre realized. This is the breaking point. I’ve finally reached insanity.

That blood-heating smirk found its way back to Rhys’ face, and she knew exactly what his answer was. “How long exactly is a while, darling?”

Feyre placed her hands on Rhys’ chest once more. “Too fucking long.”

He put his hands on her hips, keeping Feyre steady as she started to grind against his erection, needing pressure on that one spot.

“You’re a piece of shit, Rhysand. You know that? You smirk at me and you walk around shirtless all the time like there isn’t a horny girl sharing your apartment and you bring home all those girls like you want me like hear. Like you want me to know what you can do to me. It drives me crazy.” Feyre punctuated this little speech with a relatively hard roll of her hips, making Rhys let out a small groan.

“Of course I was doing it for you,” he murmured. “I wanted you to know what I had to offer.”

“You’re such a dick,” Feyre replied, reaching for the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them.

Once Feyre slung her shirt into the ground, Rhys flipped them. It was so fast, Feyre had no chance to protest (not that she would have), and in a split second, Rhys had her pinned to the floor.

“Surely I’m not the only one here in the business of teasing the other?” Rhys breathed in her ear, his hands tracing patterns on her thighs. “You strut around in those little skirts even when you’re not going out. You think I’ve never had to resist the urge to slam you against the wall?”

Feyre sighed as Rhys started trailing his lips along her neck. “Hmm, maybe we should, oh, um, we’re still on the floor, Rhys.” She didn’t know if what she said was even comprehensible to him, it was so muddled.

Rhys frowned against her neck. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Archeron?”

Feyre frowned as well. “My definition of adventure happens to be different than yours, that’s all. I typically don’t enjoy having sex on a rug that neither of us have vacuumed for a really long time.”

Rhys let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, bringing Feyre with him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, marveling in how easy that had been for him. Of course, she’d noticed how ripped he was. How many hours he spent at the gym. She always noticed.

Feyre slung her arms around his neck. Rhys pulled Feyre’s face back to him as he started walking toward the hall. His lips crushed into hers, and she started grinding against him once more as his tongue parted her lips. The man certainly knew how to multitask.

They reached a room - Feyre’s - and Rhys carefully set her down on the bed. He flipped the lamp on and surveyed the scene in front of him: Feyre in a miniskirt and a barely-there bra, sprawled across the sheets, with her hair fanning across her shoulders.

“Take your clothes off.”

As much as Feyre wanted to do as he said, as much as she wanted to obey, she wasn’t just backing down. Rhys was a pain in the ass and he needed a serious ego check.

“Don’t you want the pleasure?” She asked twirling a strand of hair in her fingers and sliding her tongue across her lips, wetting them.

Rhys frowned. “Take off your clothes.” He only repeated what he’d just said, but there was no room for argument.

Feyre’s breath caught, and she just couldn’t stop herself anymore. She unclasped the bra, then slid out of her skirt. Her panties came next. She tried to move slowly, wanting to tease him, but it was so hard to be patient. The whole process, Rhys just watched, tracing her curves with his eyes.

“Good girl,” he muttered once she finished, and Feyre felt a fire light inside of her. She pressed her thighs together, a pathetic attempt at quenching the ache.

Rhys noted the movement with a twitch of his lips. Then he got on his knees.

Feyre barely suppressed a gasp as Rhys grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He pressed a gentle, teasing kiss against her thigh, and Feyre spread her legs as far as she could.

She was on her elbows, watching him lick a trail up her thigh, still not going where she needed, and Rhys was holding her gaze the entire time.

A smirk was the only warning she got before Rhys dipped his head into her center. Just when Feyre was thinking Rhys had given in, all she got was a light kiss to her clit, the most pleasurable and frustrating sensation she had ever experienced. It was enough to drive her insane.

“Rhys,” Feyre urged, “do something.”

“Do what? This?” Rhys asked, licking a stripe up her center.

Feyre moaned. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And how about this?” Rhys flicked her clit with his forefinger, making Feyre cry out.

“More,” was all she could gasp, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Rhys’ wicked mouth started moving, tasting her, eating her alive. His tongue slid inside of her and Feyre groaned loudly, falling back against the sheets. Her eyes closed and she cried out in ecstasy as a finger entered her, then another.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, gods,” Feyre cried out.

He spoke up, his breath caressing her folds. “Do you like that, darling?”

“Please,” she murmured. “Please make me come.”

“You behave so well,” Rhys commented, rubbing her clit slowly. “I wonder who taught you how to use such good manners.”

Feyre whimpered. A nearly incomprehensible string of pleases kept falling from her mouth, along with curses and cries of his name.

Rhys started pumping his fingers hard, sucking on her clit. He curved his fingers just so and let his tongue dart out and taste her once more, and everything shattered.

Feyre screamed, clenching her thighs together around Rhys’ head. He didn’t seem to mind; he just kept licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, working Feyre through her orgasm.

Once the room stopped shaking and Feyre could see clearly again, she noticed Rhys pulling his clothing off until he was bare before her. She regained enough movement to reach for his cock as he crawled on the bed, wanting to taste him like he had tasted her, but he gently swatted her hand away.

“There’s plenty of time for that later, darling,” Rhys purred, settling over her pinning her arms to the bed.

But Feyre wasn’t giving up. She hooked a leg around his waist and used her momentum to roll them over, so that she was on top.

Rhys grinned, surprised but pleased to let this play out. Feyre kissed his neck, enjoying the contented sigh that came from his mouth. She started moving her mouth up, kissing and licking as she went.

She reached his jawline and made her way to his mouth. Unable to resist, she nipped his lower lip. Rhys growled at her and tightened his grip on her hips, but he didn’t reprimand her further.

Feyre moaned as she felt his cock press against her folds and she scrambled off of him, reaching in her nightstand drawer to grab a condom. Turning back to Rhys, she expertly rolled the condom on his length while he tweaked her nipple, making her usually-steady fingers fumble.

Feyre climbed back on top and lifted her hips over Rhys’ cock. He steadied her with his hands on her waist, murmuring a “good girl” as she lowered herself. They both sighed in pleasure as Feyre slowly sunk down all the way, fully sitting on him now.

Rhys let out a groan as Feyre started to rock her hips, adjusting to his size. She rested her hands on his chest and started moving more, really riding him now.

“You look so hot bouncing on my cock,” Rhys praised, slamming his hips up into hers.

Feyre moaned loudly, digging her nails into his skin. She tried to move faster, harder, seeking another orgasm, desperate for release.

Rhys flipped them, not stopping the movements of his hips. He thrusted harder, fully in control now. Feyre was moaning nonstop, propably leaving small scratches all over his back. Rhys seemed to relish in the sensation, thrusting harder.

She moved one hand between their bodies, circling her own clit. Feyre moaned and pressed harder, craving release.

One more thrust from Rhys had Feyre tumbling off that cliff, groaning as she went. Her whole body shook, and Rhys kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good. I’m almost there.” Feyre’s orgasm was drawn out even further at the sound of Rhys’ commending tone, loving the sound of him taking to her.

Feyre felt Rhys’ cock twitch as he found his own release, sighing against her shoulder. He withdrew from Feyre’s entrance and sat back. She was barely conscious as Rhys took care of the condom and walked back over to her.

Rhys leaned down resting his lips against her ear. “I hope you sleep well, darling,” he whispered with that smug tone of his.

And then Feyre drifted off to sleep, hardly registering the sound of Rhys padding out of her room.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

[onceuponamirror]

ghosts

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore.

[set between 2x05-2x06] [read on ao3!]

“What’re you thinking about?”

Nancy turns to look over her shoulder, surprised to see Ace standing there, hands in the pockets of his puffer. He has a smile emerging from the corner of his mouth, which broadens slightly after a moment. “You look super serious. Am I interrupting something heavy?”

“What? No,” she says, clearing her thoughts, and echoes his grin. “I just thinking about…ghosts.”

“Ghosts,” Ace repeats, and drops into the seat beside her. She’s sitting on the table, whereas he’s planted on the bench, and yet they’re still at eye-level.

She blows out a breath and shakes her head slightly. “Yeah, ghosts. With everything happening so fast last month, I feel like…I didn’t fully process…” She pauses, and waves her hands for exaggeration, “Ghosts. They’re real.”

He furrows his brow, as if waiting for her to continue, or to finish her thought.

Nancy falls back on her palms, glancing up briefly at the darkened sky. “It’s just—I’m supposed to be this…Hero of Horseshoe Bay, or whatever they want to call me in the papers. I don’t really care about that but—solving mysteries is the only thing I’ve been good at, and…”

Ace passes her a slightly mischievous smile. “Is this about me coming for your title? I’m a ‘Hero’ too.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder with her own. “No, it’s…I make logical leaps. That’s all it is. How can you make logical leaps with supernatural stuff?”

“Ah,” Ace says.

“If ghosts are real, what else is? And what won’t I be able to solve because I didn’t think to consider…Bigfoot, or something? I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this when the rules of physics don’t apply.”

“Nancy,” Ace says slowly, “all due respect, but that’s super dumb. You’ve already solved like, three ghosts mysteries by now.” She opens her mouth with mock offense, but he just grins at her, and she’s unable to stop herself from matching it again. “You’re good at this. Dead or undead. Besides—people always say stuff about physics as if it just relates to gravity. It’s a lot more flexible than that.”

She cocks her neck. “What do you mean?”

Ace shrugs. “Like, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole one night. A lot of physics is about theorizing about other dimensions and energy, and matter. Like—there’s that rule, that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. I think it’s mostly about decay or whatever, like how when we die we go back to the ground, but maybe there’s another part, like with our soul, that sticks around. Who’s to say that doesn’t encompass ghosts?”

Nancy just stares at him, dumbfounded. When she first met Ace, he’d struck her as a quiet slacker; another fellow high school burnout. It’s almost upsetting how much she’d misjudged him. “How the hell do you know that?”

As if slightly embarrassed, Ace ducks his face down, but she can still see his smile. He shrugs again. “Like I said, I love a good Wikipedia black hole. Which, coincidentally, has a great article on black holes.” They meet each other’s eyes, and Nancy feels something sputter against her chest, suddenly deeply aware of their proximity. She wonders if he feels it too, because he clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t sleep super well. So it gives me a lot of time to collect increasingly random knowledge.” He taps his temple. “It’s a steel trap of trivia.”

She raises her eyebrows, still taking him in. He never seems to stop surprising her. “How did we not know each other in high school? You would’ve been super helpful on some of my earlier cases, you know.”

“I thought you worked alone then,” he says, somewhat teasingly, but like he’s avoiding her question. After a moment, he sighs. “I knew you, you just didn’t know me. We actually had art together, I think.”

“No way,” she says at once, before she can think on it. “I would’ve noticed you.”

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to jump on his forehead. Her neck flushes hotly, but mercifully, he looks away from her. “Nah. I was barely there. I was kind of a big stoner in high school.”

“I’m shocked,” she says dully, and he laughs. At the sound, her chest tightens again.

“I know. It really plays against type,” he counters, smirking.

She laughs, and a silence falls over them gently. She’s still surprised they had a class together and she didn’t even know him—even if they didn’t run in the same circles, he was still Ace. If she wracks her brain, she has a vague memory of a skinny kid in a backwards baseball cap and an oversized plaid shirt, but it’s hard to reckon that with the long-haired, soft-eyed, much more muscled boy who sits beside her.

When her thoughts finally return to the present, she finds him watching her. She turns slowly to face him, breath catching against her chest. Her eyes dart down to his mouth, and he does the same. Anxiously, she pushes her hair behind her ears, unwilling to let this moment last. This is Ace. Get it together.

“What?” He asks, his tone something low and velvety.

She laces her fingers together and tips her chin up, wistfully watching a faint star. “What are you still doing here?” She asks, and he meets her eye again, confused this time. “I mean, you’re smart. You never wanted to get out of Horseshoe Bay? Go to college?”

Ace leans back on his elbows. “Nah,” he says, but something in his voice betrays his attempt at casualness. “I didn’t have the grades, even if I wanted to.” Nancy purses her lips, not sure she believes him. He shifts uncomfortably, like he can tell. “Pothead,” he adds, impishly. “I took a couple of classes at the community college, but…I dunno, I got bored. I’ve had pretty much every job in town, at this point. Never really held anything down, ‘til now.”

“Yeah?” She asks, breathily.

“Worked on a lobster fishing boat for a summer. That was really hard,” he supplies, and Nancy wonders if that was the cause of his transformation from skinny kid in art class to the surprisingly toned boy beside her. “Worked at the video store, until they went out of business. Worked at the library for a bit. That didn’t work out, for obvious reasons.”

“Obviously,” she echoes, grinning at him. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Last year I even worked at the yacht club,” he adds, glancing away from her. “That’s where I met Laura Tandy.”

At the mention of his ex, Nancy straightens. She tries not to put too much thought into the strange reaction her body has, deciding instead to dig at the larger thought that still nags. “Do you ever wish you’d gone with her? To Paris, I mean. Had adventures…left Maine?”

“Nance, I’m pretty sure adventure isn’t geography-specific at this point,” he sighs, throwing her a knowing look. There’s a slight thrill at him calling her ‘Nance’, and she tries to push it down. “But no,” he sighs. “My dad…I still think he needs me. He keeps trying to go back to work, as if he doesn’t remember why he left in the first place. Someone has to remind him.”

A soft hum escapes from the back of her throat. Privately, she thinks there’s something loaded there, something buried. A lie to himself, maybe. From her observation, Ace and his father are very much alike, but she doesn’t think he’d want to hear that.

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore. She levels him with a warning look, but he doesn’t back down, just piques an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “Right now, no.” She bumps him with her shoulder again. “Look at us. A couple of townie burnouts.”

He grins. “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

Another blanket of silence settles between them, but gentle this time. Again, the waves lap against the shore.

“I still can’t believe I didn’t know you,” she says quietly, perhaps not meaning to say it aloud. Somewhere along the way, he became such a fixture. But she supposes that goes for all of her friends—she was so different in high school. She’s not sure she’s someone she would’ve liked now. She realizes Ace is looking at her again. “I just mean, it’s such a small town. Like, I don’t even know your last name,” she adds.

He still hasn’t budged, soft smile and all. “Oh, it’s—”

“Yo! Lazy Drew! Are we gonna Boggle or what?” George’s voice floats across The Claw’s back deck, and they both turn around to see her at the back exit, her hands on her hips, lit warmly from behind. “Ace, you said you were gonna go get her and come right back.”

“My bad,” he says, getting to his feet. He offers her his hand down, even though it’s barely a jump to the ground. She takes it anyway, but it hits her with a shock of static so strong that she drops it like a hot potato. His eyes are anywhere but on her.

“Game night waits for no man,” George says drolly, holding the door open for them.

“Fine, fine,” she mutters, passing through the doorway. She spins around and points at George. “Tonight, we Boggle, but tomorrow—trivia night. Teams.”

“I’m game,” Ace pips up, as George only rolls her eyes and nods as she struts past them, towards the booth where Bess and Nick wait.

“Tomorrow, you’re on my team, Mr. Steel Trap,” Nancy whispers to him, leaning in conspiratorially. His body heat warms against her skin, even through her light sweater.

His smile is soft. “Any time.”

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Alright. I need more of your precious headcanons. However, I want some of Tom, Sonic, Maddie, and Ozzie. Your last one made me feel happy

More headcanons?

😋Alright, challenge Accepted!😋

Tom and Sonic love to go to Burger Princess for two reasons: they make awesome chicken nuggets and fried pickles and they both get the Kid’s Meals because it comes with a crown. They both sit in the restaurant and eat with the paper crowns on their heads.

Sonic draws pictures a lot. He makes lots of drawings for Tom and Maddie. Maddie hangs them in the kitchen and in her office. Tom has a picture frame that has all three of them, and Ozzie, in it that he has on his desk.

Tom calls Sonic “Munchkin Lad” in reference to him being called “Donut Lord.” Sonic, used to to being called “Space Hog,” is taken back at first, but grows to love it instantly.

Maddie straight-up calls Sonic her “son.” She’s just awesome like that.

Since she is called “Pretzel Lady” by her son, she calls him “Little Pretzel Bite” to reference some soft cinnamon pretzel bites that the two shared at the mall in Springvalley.

Sonic calls Ozzie “Dough-Ball” in reference to all of the baked goods starting out as dough.

Together they are The Aveng—Nope! Sorry—they’re The Baked Goods Squad.

Anytime an eight wheeler or a sixteen wheeler semi-truck is on the road, Sonic freaks out and thinks of Dr. Robotnik. It sends Sonic into a panic attack, which leads Tom and Maddie to spend the rest of the day calming him down.

It also scares Sonic to be near any other scientist, he doesn’t know if they’re evil or not.

They’re watching the Wachowskis, the Wipples, and the whole town. They’re always watching them.

Sonic and Maddie are obsessed with buying shoes. They spend all day trying on shoes, buying shoes, and purposely go to places around town and in Springvalley to strut off their new kicks.

Sonic has a uniform that he wears when he goes to work with Tom. It’s a Greenhills vest with a badge and with “Munchkin Lad” on it. He also wears Tom’s hat and a pair of shades. Tom gets a huge kick out of it.

Sonic has nightmares of the events that have happened to him in the past. He doesn’t talk about them much, but he seeks comfort in Tom and Maddie by curling up next to them to sleep when he’s scared. Lots of blue fur on the comforter and on the pillows.

The three camp a lot in the forest. Sonic loves it because they stay in his cave that he’s tidied up for his parents friends to stay in, he’s very happy to have them stay in his home-away-from-home. Maddie loves to camp because she gets to meet the forest animals that Sonic has befriended, and can do yoga with them. Tom loves it because he has great childhood memories with the forest that he hopes to share with Sonic.

Sonic is friends with Bigfoot! No one believed him, not even Crazy Carl! Sonic and Bigfoot became friends when they fought over a bag of Doritos.

Tom and Maddie have fully accepted Sonic as their son. They don’t care what the USA government says, they accept him as their son 100%.

Sonic does swear, but it’s in his native tongue. Maddie and Tom think it’s cute because it sounds like hedgehog squeaks.

Sonic will squeak, chirp, and purr like Earth Hedgehogs do. Maddie has tried to learn some hedgehog squeaks and chirps and she’ll use it to speak to Sonic on occasion. Pretzel Bite gets a huge kick out of it and pick on Tom in their own secret language.

Sonic and Tom have sweat jars. Tom fills it up the most.

Ben Schwartz is an actual person in this AU. He is an actor and a comedian. Tom and Sonic watch Ben’s comedy specials on TV and they go on Ben’s tours around the country.

Ben Schwartz happens to be a big fan of Sonic and met Sonic and Tom at at one of his shows. Tom about passed out with excitement.

Sonic does not truly know his age, but he really wants a birthday party. To celebrate for Sonic, Tom and Maddie throw an anniversary party for him I’m the amount of years becoming a Wachowski.

The car bed was originally Tom’s. He kept it from his childhood to give to his own kid one day... which is why Sonic has it.

Tom is highly protective of Sonic, very. Maddie is as well, but she gets a kick out of how protective Tom is to him.

Sonic, Tom, and Maddie will work out together, even going on family jogs. Tom, however, cannot rum very far and passes out after running five miles. Maddie can run far, but she mostly drags Tom home. Sonic makes fun of Tom the whole time.

Tom coaches Sonic’s Little League game. They play against Springvalley all the time. The kids from Springvalley pick on Sonoc for being different, but Sonic’s team members are quick to kick Springvalley out of town.

Tom tried to get Sonic to join the Ultimate Frisbee League in Greenhills, but Sonic hated it because he tried to catch the frisbee like a dog would.

Maddie and Sonic treat themselves frequently at a spa. They both love to get massages, mud baths, and get their nails done. Sonic draws the line at getting them painted, he gets his claws cleaned instead.

Tom tucks Sonic into bed. Every night. He’s done it for a year now. It’s a thing that he does.

Maddie comes in to check up on Sonic, she often finds Tom sleeping in the beanbag chair near Sonic’s bed just to make sure that Sonic doesn’t have nightmares.

Sonic only allows Tom and Maddie to give him ear rubs and brush his fur. He imagines that this is what parental figures do for their own kids, even if they are human.

Sonic can purr like a kitten. It scared Tom and Maddie first, but now they get a huge kick out of it.

Just recapping, Sonic has ADHD and PTSD.

There is a reason why Sonic was saved by Longclaw when he was a baby. It is one of his earliest childhood memories and he hates talking about it.

Sonic’s instincts from living in the wild do kick in sometimes. Sonic will catch bugs around the house and eat them. Sonic will also randomly chase things. Tom and Maddie refer to this as his “Gremlin Moments”

Sonic is encouraged to have some downtime and/or get some rest in the afternoon by Tom and Maddie. He will only sleep if he gets to be in the middle of the couch between his two favorite people so he can lean on them.

Sonic and Maddie try to garden, but Sonic ends up digging holes the whole time and he begs Maddie to play Hide-and-Seek with him.

Tom tells Dad Jokes. All the time. He has a book that he keeps on his desk at work that he’ll read to Sonic to get him to stop misbehaving at work.

Sonic does not understand metaphors. He’s very literal. This is because he’s lived in isolation for years and lacks social interaction.

And that’s all that I can think of on the top of my head! I’m glad that I was asked to make more! I didn’t know that you were interested! Thank you, and I’m happy that you’ve liked the first round!❤️

[yeetmetotahiti]

Lake day/night with the Sawyers? S/O is wearing a bikini btw/ >:D

Listen these boys never leave the house or the gas station. So any adventure is going to be exciting.

Drayton is driving and there will be no arguements about it. He brings a broom with him and has used it at least 5 times. Chop is the DJ and he won’t let anyone near the dials. Nubbins is passed out and bored, he’s already seen these roads before. And Bubba is so excited yet scared of everything he sees in the towns they go past.

Once they get to the lake, Chop and Nubbins run and jump right in! Drayton and Bubba have to unpack the car and Drayton is pissed that those idiots just left them to do all the work, but isn’t surprised.

Chop and Nubbins swim all day and horse around in the water and on the beach. Bubba plays in the sand and cautiously puts his toes in the water. He only goes fully in when his brothers aren’t there to scare him off. And Drayton sits under and umbrella/tree and just takes in the nice weather and scenery.

Drayton’s s/o would spend the day helping him navigate the roads and keep him calm in the car and not wreck when he smacks the twins. When they arrive at the lake she changes into her bikini and Drayton can’t focus on anything now. He even lets his brothers get away with some things. She makes a point to strut around and bend over to show him her ass when she has to pick up anything. She would ask him to help her apply sunscreen and after that he’s useless the rest of the trip. He can’t take his eyes off her and can’t stop touching her.

Bubba’s s/o would be pointing out all the new things he sees as they make their journey to the lake. She even tells him little stories of times when she was at a certain place or when she used that certain object that he’s happily babbling and pointing at as they drive by it. She also helps keep the twins away from him in the car. Once they’re at the lake she helps him unpack grandpa(yes they took him) from the van and then she goes to change into her bikini. Bubba didn’t know she even owned one so when he sees her come back out dressed in that his mind goes blank. He just stares at her for hours. His brothers tease him non stop about his staring, but he can’t help it. He loves to watch her in the water and she helps him into the lake. She eases his worries about the water and he gets to see her all wet and he loves it. He can’t stop holding or picking her up. After they’re done swimming for the day, he carries her to the beach or under a tree and sits with her in his lap the rest of the day.

Chop Top’s s/o would suggest songs to him and help him pick out cassettes or radio stations. She sings along with him in the car, to everyone’s dismay. Because then he starts saying how wonderful of a singer she is and starts heavily making out with her then and there. Drayton gets the broom. When they arrive at the lake he is feeling extra frisky from all the making out in the car so he goes to change with her. Everybody can hear them and he doesn’t care. But when they get back she goes straight for the water and he stays back a bit to watch her ass as she runs. The whole time they’re in the water he is just groping her and giving her hickies. Drayton gets so sick of it, he wades into the water to smack him with the broom, he fucking would don’t @ me! After they’re tuckered our from swimming and causing scenes, they lay on the beach all cuddled up and end up falling asleep. They get wicked sunburns.

Nubbin’s s/o would ask him about all his adventures on the roads that they’re taking. Where exactly he’s been and how far away he’s traveled before. He takes this time to act tough and daring and share all his crazy stories, and some made up ones. He definitely didn’t fight Bigfoot, don’t let him fool you! Once at the lake his s/o goes to change into her bikini and comes back to nothing. Nubbins is gone and has left to explore the beach and wooded areas for dead things. She is upset that he would just leave her and she makes a show to be as sexy as she can just to spite him when he gets back. When he does come back, his jaw drops, as well as the dead opossum he’s carrying, because he sees his s/o in the hottest bikini while she sensually rubs sunscreen all over he body. He rushes over the her, throwing sand on her as he skids to a stop, and takes the bottle from her to do it himself. After about an hour of sunscreen being applied she thinks he’s had enough groping for one day and decides to drag him into the lake. For fun and for a bath, because he needs it. Like his twin, he takes that time to grope and hang onto his s/o as much as possible. Drayton is going to run out of brooms real fast.

[katphantom69]

Monster Masquerade~

((Alright homie @creatortiffany98 and @starstruckcomicsmangatoad Ive done it!! hope you all like it!))

There comes that time of year where ghouls and witches all come together to celebrate their differences but alikeness to one another. They all come down to the Slender Woods to an old abounded castle that lays deep with in them...where no human, no matter how insane , would dare to wander...espeically in the middle of the night. As the full moon rises claiming her rightful place amoung the stars, residents of the forest and beyond gather inside the castle for the annual Monster Masquerade.

Slender Man was the host along with Zalgo...a temporaly truce for now between the two. Tonight was a night of joy not of fights or quarls. The proxies arrived dressed their best to join in the celerbartion. There were witches casting sparkling spells for lights and bigfoot served the punch. Ghosts flew all around with glee as everyone hid behind their fancy dresses and masks. Werewolves howled and vampires strut their stuff since they could be extra fancy tonight. It was magical and terrifing all at once. Defenatlly not for the faint of heart.

Jeff hid behind a plain white and black mask. He wore a smiple suit and tie for comfort. He grabbed a glass of punch...((he hoped it was punch but with the color and the all the vampires drinking it, it could be blood too)..and took a seat just a few feet away from the dance floor. He observed the acrobatic demonic porcielin dolls twist and turn in different and very painful looking poses. A wicked fairy danced on the tight rope above her crystal black wings givng spectacualar lighting to the dance floor where many couples of all kinds got together to dance and have fun. Jeff sighs watching them all dance. Altho stuff like this wasnt his style, he did wish he had someone to dance with. His fellow proixies goofed off running around and just observing everything with glee and awe. He chuckles and relaxed a bit as he looked around to try and guess who the guests were. He reconized a few. Ugly Nina and even more ugly and stupid Jane were there, their desguises too simple and easy to uncover who they were. They were both dancing with some vamps. Jeff stuck his tongue out. How could someone dance with those ugly beasts was beyond his comprehension. He leaned back in his chair and turned to look over at the door. Thats when his eyes widen in awe and shock at such shear beautiy that walked in. That was Flacie no doubt He could tell from a mile away. The vamp demons beauty was one Jeff could reconize anywhere no matter what, even if she was hidden behind a gold and blood red mask. Flaice had a lovely and very elegant ball gown on. Black as bats with blood red ribbons and white frilly trims. Elegant, gorgoues and deadly,. Jeff sprang up and tried to make his way up to her but soon lost her in the crowed. He cursed under his breath and sat down to think of a plan. 

Meanwhile Flacies brother, Killer, a handsome young vampire, waited at the entrance for his partner for the dance. He was equally elegantly and deadly dressed as well looking as dashing as vampire soldier with his face hidden behind a demon mask. Some feline gals purred and catcalled at him trying to get his attention. Killer chuckled and smiled “Sorry ladies but im taken” he said soon spying his lovers limo. As the kitties questioned who might be the owner of this vampires heart, BM stepped out wearing his best suit. It was all black of course with a long waist coat making it look like the tail of a dress. He had a silver vest on to match the silver wolf mask he was wearing. He smiled and walked over to his lover dragging someone behind. Killer smiled and walked over happily taking his lover into his arms for kiss. He smirked at cat girls as he and his lover intertwinded their lips in a deep passionate kiss. The girls gasped and squealed like any good yaoi fan girl. This was some of that good gay shit. Killer smiles as BM looks up at him: “Sorry I was late my dear...but SOMEONE...had to make things hard now did they!” he said looking over his shoulder. The person he had dragged stood up and dust themselves up. She sighed as she clearly did not want to be there. Killer chuckles as he could reconize the female instatly even behind her white with blue checker board looking mask. PK grumbles a bit “I clearly stated that i did not wanna come...but nooooo u gotta put me in this frilly dress and drag me here now did you!” 

Killer laughs “Come now PK youll have fun lets go inside” he said pulling both of them in. PK nealy stumbled on her high heels.Her dress was long in the back and short in the front so her legs were visible. She wore white and blue gloves to match the white and blue toned dress she was wearing. The feathered design of the dress made it easy for her to walk along. It also had shiny gems to make it look like stars were placed on the night sky along the back side of her dress. She sighs and quickly sniffs around for food. At least this was the only thing that would be worth it.

Flacie sighs boredly and sips her blood. She watched as her brother and his lover got out on the dance floor. They danced happily as the music switched to the Vampire Waltz. Flacie looked around wanting to dance with someone but yet not wanting to dance with the different monsters that came to ask her out.She needed someone familiar. Jeff grumbles thinking to himself when all of a sudden he saw PK. He smirked and got up soon tapping the blind psychopath on the shoulder. PK jolted up and growled before recongnizing the smell. “Oh its just you” she said as she kept eating Jeff chuckles”Yes nice to see you too” he said before he pulled her up “Listen I need to find Flacie...put that hound nose of yours to good use and sniff her out for me please!!” he said excited. PK sighs “Fine fine but you owe me” she said. She sniffed around soon finding Flacies scent and grabbed Jeffs arm dashing through the crowd. Jeff said excuse me and pardon me so many times that night that he lost count. Soon PK had them at the end of a table...and at the other end...Flacie! Jeff thanked PK and went over to Flacie fast. He panted and tapped her on the shoulder. Flacie hissed a bit “Listen here buddy that is no way to approach a lady!” She huffed a bit. Jeff chuckles “Sorry there harley quinn..didnt mean to disturbe you!” he joked Flacie blinks. There was only one person she allowed to call her that. “Jeff is that you?” she asked. Jeff chuckles “The one and only” he smiled behind the mask and sat down next to her. Flacie chuckles “With that suit you really do look like the joker now” she teased. Jeff roles his eyes “Yeah yeah enough chit chat you wanna dance or what?” he said getting up and ofering his hand. Flacie smiles and gets up “About time you asked lets go!” she said and soon both of them headed out to the floor to waltz. They happily danced together laughing and had fun.BM and Killer dance happily swirling around the floor. PK sat down again to eat. Behind her two of Slenders proxies stopped and tried to approach her. They both started fighting however about who deserved to take her out. PK blinked annoyed and munched on her food till she heard a small whine. Sniffing around she found Jeffs dog Smile under the table happily waiting for food. She feed him some and smirked pulling him out to the dancefloor. The crowd made room surprised at this but asked no questions. The two proxies looked over and sigh in defeat. PK laughs as Smile licks her face as they clumsly danced around. Jeff and Flacie laugh as well seeing them and soon Killer and BM were joining in the laughter. The friends happily danced to the music as the full moon shone over them lighting up the night with her eery light. They happily swayed and twirled with all the other monsters enjoying this wonderful scary night till crack of dawn. They then say their goodbyes and promise to come again next time for another fun night at the Monster Masquerade.

[plungermusic]

“Kinda bent, but we ain’t breakin’… in the long run”

Maverick Saturday stretched out before us like a challenge - thirteen hours is a long time on your feet for a couple of oldsters, but we’d give it our best shot…

We didn’t catch all of Dan Walsh’s opening Barn set, but his closing number, a lyrical, backwoods folk-flavoured instrumental that peaked in an increasingly frenetic celtic reel to the whoops and stomps of the crowd, was enough to impress us with its fleet-fingered dexterity.

Kelly Bayfield made her second barn appearance with another stylish set drawn from the new album: Kelly taking to the piano to give us a new short number Sing which was twinned (“well, they’re a similar flavour, and in the same key!”) with her last single Hitchhiker, both oozing classy 70s chanteuse vibes and the latter closing in some great Telecaster work from Andy Trill in a majestic closing solo.

There’s not much that’d drag us away from a Kelly performance early, but having spotted his programme picture (“Long hair, Les Paul? That’ll do!”) we pottered down to the open air Green Stage for David Banks and his band. He did exactly what we thought it said on the tin: lots of Springsteen/Petty influenced muscular Americana with a dash of Molly Hatchett topped with excellent southern-fried guitar and classic ‘big endings’… marvellous.

He was followed by Simon Stanley Ward (another ‘old fave’) who brought his Jonathan Richmanish irreverence and wit to Old Time Country in Excuse Me While I Feel Sorry For Myself; the Graceland-African-style I’m A Worrier (”…that’s worrier, not warrior”) a swinging rock’n’roller Bigfoot, Baby (Eddie Cochran meets cryptobiology) and Rocket In The Desert (the salad leaf not the projectile) with its Lawrence Of Arabia theme tease. While lampooning his own assumed-Nashville twang in American Voice the accompaniment was as echt as you could want, and the deadpan humour of Beluga Whale was sung to a properly stirring Journeyesque anthem.

As it wasn’t raining The Green seemed the place to stay, where Forty Elephant Gang came next. Reviewing their album we were a little sniffy about their ‘crowd-pleasing festival songs’ but aside from the field holler-meets-O Brother Where Art Thou-style Songs Of Praise, this set was mostly the ones we’d liked: the relaxed Tex-Mex of Strange Things Happening with three-part harmonies and intertwining mando’n’guitar lines; the melancholic waltz of Young Man’s Game and the Squeeze-y domestic wit of Drunken Promise Song. A final ‘crowd-pleaser’ came in the chugging bluesy Hands Out Your Pockets, an instruction the assembled masses eagerly followed to add the required clap-along.

Sam Chase Trio made another appearance at The Green, wooing the larger crowd with both edgy humour (including praising UK portaloos in comparison to US versions, and introducing Everyone Is Crazy But Me as “a children’s song... now, what they mean is that it’s simple, since kids are generally at the dumber end of the spectrum”), and songs as varied as the fiery protest of What Is All The Rage and the haunting, wistful Lost Girl, (from the “Faustian Spaghetti Western Of Epic Proportions Known As The Last Rites Of Dallas Pistol”) sung by cellist Devon.

Now Plunger do like a bit of bluegrass, whether it’s grainy b/w Flatt & Scruggs clips from the 50s, through Sam Bush and New Grass to Béla Fleck and Greensky Bluegrass so The Folly Brothers should have been our kind of thing… however what we heard of them was more My Old Man’s A Dustman than anything Appalachian so we wandered off…

Back at The Barn Dean Owens and the Southerners drew a large and attentive crowd, but the popular Scot also left us a bit underwhelmed. Mellow, melodious troubadoury country that wouldn’t have been out of place on a mid-afternoon 70s Radio 2 show, the kind of thing that takes a deep listen in your bedroom to appreciate the stories told: very easy on the ear for sure but without any particular thing to grab us at a festival.

After an abortive attempt to catch Ella Spencer and her accompanist at The Moonshine (an extremely long soundcheck with problems with feedback from pretty much everything they touched meant we gave up) we caught a snatch of Los Pistoleros as we rounded The Green: probably the most C.O.U.N.T.R.Y. thing of the weekend, complete with draggy fiddle, pedal steel and old time vocal harmonies… if I’d not left my cowboy boots at home I’d have been out line-dancing with the best of them.

Plunger had only just seen Alyssa Bonagura (with Tim De Graaw’s band) less than a week since. Here at The Barn she was nominally solo but Tim joined her to add sweet harmonies and mellow guitar to Alyssa’s polished Cali-country: her strong yet ethereal vocal equally at home in slow emotional confessionals or giggly upbeat Big Yellow Taxi-style big strummers.

Listed only as ‘Dogs Play Dead’ it was only a lucky guess that took us down to The Green for what turned out to be Friday’s headliners Black Eyed Dogs playing a set of Grateful Dead classics. Mainly those with a countryish twist to them already, like Casey Jones, I Know You Rider and Friend Of The Devil; and bringing that flavour with fiddle and pedal steel to others like Truckin’, China Cat Sunflower, Playing In The Band and the epic closing Franklin’s Tower. All done with the right degree of loose, shambling rhythms and discursive noodling on guitar (and fiddle!) Fabulous stuff for grooving on the grass under what by now were glorious sunshine-filled blue skies.

Brooks Williams’ jangly sonorous acoustic and warm, smooth higher register vox was ideal early evening fare at the barn, in covers like Dave Alvin’s King Of California, traditional numbers like Deep River Blues and originals like the Gordon Lightfootish melancholy of Frank Delandry, and the damp-eyed nostalgia of Palomino Gold, aided toward the end of his set by some more excellent banjo from Dan Walsh.

The USP of Eddy Smith & the 507 is Eddy’s gravelly soulful voice, ideal for their bluesy-edged material, like the harp-led strut of It Don’t Feel Much Like Living and the new single Ticket Out Of Here, a bustling two-step with impressive three-part harmony vocals. They definitely have moved up a level since we last saw them a couple of years back.

Somehow we managed to miss Sarah Petite with her band completely on Friday, and almost all of her stripped-back Moonshine set on Saturday. Which was definitely our loss gauging by the brief snatch of crackling husky vocal over restrained bass and reverb laden guitar that we heard while hunting for a still-open toilet (a water supply problem having rendered all loos unusable for a considerable portion of the late evening... pretty much the only fly in the ointment all weekend!)

As the sun set the two-month date differential was beginning to tell: clear night skies in September aren’t quite the same as July and the growing chill was testing our stamina a bit. We headed for The Peacock and the tribute show to John Prine, hosted by Rich Hall. Pretty much every act who was on site came to do a turn in honour of the recently-deceased songwriting legend, with their own favourite from his oeuvre. Kelly Bayfield band gave us Hello In There, Tim De Graaw with Alyssa did That’s The Way The World Goes Round, Alyssa gave us the obligatory Angel From Montgomery, and Simon Stanley Ward (plus Kelly) gave a fantastic rollicking Lake Marie. Entirely in character, Sam Chase Trio broke the mould and gave us their own tribute song John Prine.

Rich Hall had to skip out on MC duties to attend his own set at The Barn: sacrilege to say, but the appeal of stand up (even to music, even from such a big name) palled a little. It was getting bitterly cold (you could see your breath hanging in the air) and given that what we could hear of his set was the same as we’d heard last time he was here we spent much the time attempting to warm up with piping hot beverages. However it was by far the rammedest set of the weekend, with the tightly-packed crowd spilling out of The Barn for some distance.

Jon Langford was unsurprisingly somewhat hindered by the draw of Rich Hall (which left The Peacock a bit underpopulated!) His spiky, punky approach wasn’t entirely our bowl of chilli, although the rendition of Eddie Waring (originally by Help Yourself with Deke Leonard and BJ Cole, who was sitting in with Jon tonight) was very good.

The programme description of headliner Jerry Joseph did its best to weaken our staying power too: with our deep suspicion of any write-ups that include the ‘p-word’, and somewhat incredulous of the mention of ‘jam bands’, Jerry looked like he wouldn’t be our kind of thing at all. However he didn’t live down to expectations (wholly). A very animated stage-prowling audience-provoking figure in shorts and no shoes, there was no shortage of energy even if it was largely unchannelled and could get a little wearing… (maybe it was that, maybe it was the chill, but The Barn steadily thinned out during his set, ending less than half full). War At The End Of The World was the pick of the bunch, although like most of his material it would probably have sounded better with a band (like, erm, Stockholm Syndrome, which he co-founded; or, erm, Widespread Panic who he has written for… so much for our ‘jamband incredulity’!)

While it might have ended as a bit of a test of endurance, there were more than enough high points to make Saturday another enjoyable Maverick experience.

“Did we do it for love? Did we do it for money? More like stubborn dumb persistence and hot chocolate, honey…”

[theordinaryhiker]

#StoryTime: So, the amount of times I’ve said “WTH, it’s 2019 y’all” since moving to the South has been disappointing at times. There are seriously other things we as humans should be worried about beside who you’re getting into angry text fights with for not emptying the dishwasher and who you wanna crush on. My current full-time job is being a #podcast host over at @creep_geeks and working the Convention life in the #Paranormal and #Cryptozoology community. I make little ornaments and jewelry of #Bigfoot, #LochnessMonster, #UFO and #Aliens... oh, and something I call “SassySquatch” that kinda struts like @pattiegonia. Since my aunt Julie passed away earlier this summer, I’ve been painting a few #Pride monsters along with my other handmade creations. Nobody else is making them out here. I’m not trying to get rich, I’m just putting #art out there that makes people smile and hopefully paying the podcast storage bill at the end of the month. If there is a Bigfoot, or Loch Mess Creature, would he/she be a unique genetic wonder...just like my aunt and all the kids fighting the good fight down here in NC? My aunt served her country proudly, then went on to work an awesome job as a PostMaster in the only place (at the time) she could find acceptance; Las Vegas. As a very strong brown woman, she lived and loved thru a time where it wasn’t cool to be yourself, moved far away from friends and family that weren’t understanding, and worked male-dominated professions her entire life. Kinda like me. My dad always said I took after her a lot, except I’m pale with freckles, lol. There’s little representation down here, and every time someone gravitates towards one of my necklaces, I hand them a card, let them know they can always reach out, and that we’re not like everyone else. If I can believe in UFO’s, I can believe in YOU. Also, have a free sticker, kid 😁. (at Sugar Hill, North Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/B2ek4A9F2cY/?igshid=1r3n0awn6it7i

[brothersapart]

FAQ

(the mobile-friendly version)

Background information:

Brothers Apart was started by @nightmares06 October 24th, 2014 and has been going strong ever since! During the last two years two other writers have been added to the team along with a very helpful assistant!

The main storyline, Brothers Apart, has since sparked a collection of AUs. Each storyline is individual in and of itself, but all tie into the main arc in their own way. Visit Links to find your way to the stories.

Why don’t you just post Brothers Apart and not all these other stories?

Since Brothers Apart is (mostly) written by myself, there isn’t enough story built up to have a backlog. Due to a falling out with a former beta reader, writing for Brothers Apart was frozen for a year. During that time we conceived a number of other storylines, and we invite you to enjoy them along with us.

When/where do the stories post?

Sunday, 9pm EST Wednesday, 9pm EST

Any changes to this schedule will be announced on the tumblr as soon as we know about them.

There are three different sites the stories post on:

Archive of Our Own || Fanfiction || Deviantart

Any prompts received will be posted to the tumblr blog before appearing on any other sites, otherwise stories are on the three sites listed above.

Order of creation of the various AUs:

Brothers Apart– “But what if I never fixed Sam?”

Brothers Found– “But what about JACOB?”

Brothers Adopted– “Okay but Jacob’s too cute, let’s make him small”

Brothers Divided– “… bad, Dean”

Brothers Together– “OSCAR”

Brothers Lost– “Okay we should make BOTH brothers small”

Brothers Asunder– “Wee Sammers and Bowman as brothers!”

Brothers Unexpected– “Because Sam/Jacob and Dean/Oscar are too cute to contain”

Brothers Consulted– “I wonder how Sherlock and Dean would react to each other…”

**Various unannounced ideas**

Brothers Saved– “Big Sam and his tiny big brother strutting around”

I love the artwork! Why don’t you have more of (insert character)?

We love the art too! But since we’re writers, and our skill at actual drawing is lacking, all of the artwork you see posted here (with a few incredibly rare exceptions), are either commissioned with our own money or submitted by fans (you lovely, lovely people). We love supporting our favorite artists, so we won’t stop commissioning anytime soon, but it’s dependent on if we have money at the time we get the idea.

If you want to help us out, please Buy Me a Coffee and let us know what character or AU you want commissioned! Once we have enough money for that AU, we’ll get it done.

When does (insert story) start posting?

We’re not sure when each story goes up, we only have a timeline for the days stuff will post. To prevent any stories from gaining favoritism over others, we started running a poll. During the last week or two of a story, there will be a poll with (2) to (6) options offered, and the winner will be the story that starts next!

Keep in mind that the stories that appear in the poll will be fully written/edited and beta’d by our wonderful beta readers, any stories that are incomplete in any fashion will not be included.

The poll is run through SurveyMonkey, and each person gets only (1) vote! Duplicate votes WILL BE REMOVED.

Can you go back to posting stories about only Sam and Dean?

No.

Seriously, we’re going to keep writing together because we do it for fun. You’ll see classic Brothers Apart stories come around when I finish them, but you’ll also get a lot of the collabs we do. We write for ourselves and to get rid of stress. Since we’re not paid to do this (in fact, we spend a decent amount of money on story things), we’ll continue to write what we like.

We still love feedback and getting new ideas from all you readers out there, so keep sending us prompts and suggestions! Just don’t be upset if we don’t do yours– we might not be feeling it.

There’s a book? Where can I get a copy!?

There used to be a book, but it has been discontinued and no longer offered as an option in the contest. Thanks for your interest!

Will Castiel be in the story?

Go read all the stories.

Why didn’t my ask get answered yet?

Generally only one ask is answered a day, please be patient with us.

Popular Tags:

#commissioned art– all the artwork commissioned by the writers of the BA for the stories/ideas we have.

#fanart– artwork done by the fans.

#contest entry 2016– entries submitted for the 2016 BA contest

#bac 2017 tumblr– entries submitted for the 2017 BA contest on the tumblr side (for DA entries, go here).

#daily update– all the story excerpts posted since the beginning.

#prompt– finished prompts (or unfinished prompts, multiple things get filed here).

#submission– wonderful submissions from you readers!

Commissions are open!

What characters belong to who?

@nightmares06–

Supernatural characters– Sam and Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, John Winchester (though I’ll warn that any prompts for John Win are the least likely to be fulfilled because he usually gives me writer’s block), Castiel, Gabriel, Rufus and Rumsfeld. Various other Supernatural characters.

Original characters– Nixie, Ilyana, Celeste (problematic fave), Walt Watch, Mallory Watch, Briella Watch, Moira Wainscot, Krissy Vent, Sean, Kara Bolt, Christian Bolt, Mikael Foyer, Noonia and Elenia.

@neonthewrite–

Original Characters– Bowman, Jacob Andris, Oscar, Rischa, Cerul, Scar, Vel, (any of the wood sprites, basically), Colfax and Adrian (better prompted at @alittleblogoftrust ), Asp the shadow sprite, Indigo Seraf.

Only original characters, as canon characters tend to come very slowly for me.

@borrowedtimeandspace--

Sherlock Characters– Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Molly Hooper and Mycroft Holmes.

Doctor Who Characters– Mostly Tenth Doctor, will do Nine, Eleven, and Twelve (I’m working through Classic Who at a snail’s pace xD) Willing to write for companions from New Who as well.

Original Chracters– Zepheera is my main OC, Stan Baker, Simon Baker, Nathan Sullivan and a bunch of borrower bbys: Kernel, Orrick Shelf, Boston Mantel, Baycliff, Klerida, Marcue Overmantle; basically, if you’ve read my stories, any of the OCs are up for grabs.

Story excerpts

Each day on brothersapart.tumblr.com, we will be posting a new excerpt from a story we are working on at the time. This happens at 10a.m. est, and it’s a tiny blurb from the story.

A bit on the tags for our story excerpts:

#trnt here is the abbreviation of the story the excerpt came from– later revealed to be “The Road Not Taken”

Abbreviations we’ve used and their names if announced:

#trnt– The Road Not Taken (posted)

#twf– The Water’s Fine (posted)

#tnplh– There’s No Place Like Home

#atth– A Time to Heal

#iatwaa– It’s a Tall World After All

#sow– Sam of Wellwood (posted)

#don– Dean of Nowhere (posting)

#bofa– Bobby of Far Away

#dow– Dean of Wellwood

#awos– A World of Secrets

#eotm– Epidemic of the Mannequins

#ws– Wayward Sons

#bah– Bigfoot's a Hoax

#coth– Clash of the Hunters

#auv– An Unexpected Visitor

#sotw– Shadows on the Wall

#gacs– Garlic and Cold Spots (posted)

#tsotf– The Study of the Four (posted)

#tttb– The Ties that Bind (posted)

#ababs– A Burglary at Baker Street

#teome– The Enemy of my Enemy

#jiw– Jacob in Wonderland (posted)

#rt– Road Trip

#a:asocs– Aftermath: A Series of Consulted Shorts

#bp– Bittersweet Parting (posted)

#ffh– Far From Home 

#fs– For Science

#adod– A Day of Duality

#bftp– Blast from the Past

#apias– Any Port in a Storm

#thoaw– The Heart of a Wolf

#san– Sam and Nicholas

#apfo– A Place for Oz

#sb– Something Borrowed

#ttol– The Trials of Logan

#lald– Live and Let Die

#aol– Avenue of Life

#malc– M&Ms and Lucky Charms

#afin– A Friend in Need

#boan– Birth of a Nightmare (posted)

#rj– Regarding Jacob

The last kind of tag you’ll see is the queue tag:

All this means is it is a reblogged excerpt from 2016, you can go to the original post to find out its tags.

This has been a dissertation on tags!

If you see any questions we left out, be sure to send in an ask!

[elephantclouduniverse]

A 1992 Datsun pickup retreats through the incubating grey to a duplex in SouthWest Portland As it passes the aroma of Friday night dinners in homely neighborhoods, Daniel looks through windows, moonlight like shattered lightning reflecting through tree limbs casting shadows over two-story townhouses he will never afford. It passes Flying Pie Pizzeria and Daniel cranes his neck to see if he can spot Ryan, the manager, who surely is not happy about his quitting abruptly 6 months ago after only a month of semi-conscious employment, mixing the dough and cutting canadian bacon in the slicer as it oozed jelliton liquid over his meagerly gloved hands. He figured, then, that working in a Nuts and Bolts Factory would be a welcome change of pace. But here in Multnomah Village, where fathers still read Goodnight Moon to their twins in bedrooms showered with glow-in-the-dark stars on ceilings and night-lights near bed stands, the Datsun unceremoniously pulls into a dead-end street with more potholes than acnes on a pubescent teenage snot-twat.

He used to drive along the backroads circling his family home and put off his arrival so that he could blast the radio and scream the lyrics of a song he just didn’t know. He does that now, to distract the exhaustion in his brain. He drives past his own house and to another.

His best friend’s name is Sean. He is a heavy drinker, as Daniel is a heavy smoker, and together they combine some good things and some bad. Sean lives with his mom, and as Daniel struts in the entryway, wiping his feet on the doormat, Sean sees the look on his face, nods gently, smiles knowingly, opens the fridge, and tosses him a beer. They retreat to the covered patio offers a respite from the rain. The rain stops and the hours pass. Another few Budweisers go down smooth.

The late hour is ripe for reckless abandon or a return to teenage summertime mistakes where beers and friends were our only priority, before time escaped us, the grey surrounded us, and ambition and responsibility tore friendships apart like dogs over scraps, or at least dilluted them into once a month Saturday board game nights with girlfriends trying to impress eachother or themselves. But we always felt awkward, uncertain, unwilling to grow up in such away that tore at the best of us. Our foolishness, or something akin to childlike wonder often mistook for foolishness. And so with a laugh, Daniel suggests they climb the roof in the undulating darkness, perhaps to see the stars through the clouds, or perhaps just because they feel like children again, when summer nights were spent sleeping on trampolines with a flashlight in an upturned bucket to mimic a campfire, trading stories of bigfoot or aliens or ghosts while Blink 182 sang quietly from a boombox so as not to wake the neighbors.

So Daniel places a chair beneath the drainage pipe, grasps the gutter, and swings a desperate foot onto a slick mossy shingle, and heaves his now beer-bloated bodies onto the roof. From below, Sean throws four more tall boys, one at a time, up to Daniel, who catches them effortlessly in the darkness. Sean clambors up in the same way and soon they are cracking open their beers 10 feet below the ground with nothing but the sky above them and a friend beside. As the conversation circles closer to a Truth, Daniel’s throat becomes thick with beer or emotion

That night, Sean gave some selfless advice. That night, Daniel vowed to move away. To escape the grey. He had one place in mind, one place only.

Some many days later Daniel finds himself laying in a hammock in a fishing park in Thailand, among chuckling chickens and goats in the distance, herding into their pens. His feet are bare and dusty and he drives a motorbike named after another long-forgotten romance. Under the seat are memories of his own: a green poncho, a yellow duckling keychain, colored pencils, broken bracelets, and a notebook.