#jack needs to loose his license

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea 10

I’ve read quite a few fics where you have amity Parker’s in Gotham causing chaos. Not so much a field trip to amity. Which is a tourist attraction town.

So maybe a school trip or forced vacation ends up with one or a few members of the batfam in amity park.

First thing they realize is there is no traffic cops. Jack Fenton nearly hit them and obviously needs his license taken away. It’s obviously bad as all the amity park citizens just know how to avoid them. Like the citizens just don’t care and are used to it.

Second thing is that civilians find out ghost are in fact real. Any member of the hero community are like okay supernatural problem here. The ghost that makes them realize this is box ghost. Once more the amity park citizens don’t care. It’s just the box ghost phantom will handle it and continue amongst there day.

So now there is an unknown vigilante who just is in this nowhere town. One with comparable powers to Superman. That part is concerning and report worthy. Plus the Fentons seem to be set on hunting down ghost. About how they’ll rip them sort molecule by molecule so looks like mad scientists are here as well.

Then technus shows up with his I’ll take over the world. Communication outside is not working. No contact for help nothing. Obviously Danny handles it and soups him. Nobody in town was batting there eyes at this point. Just talks like at least it wasn’t vortex or overgrowth this time.

So whoever was in the town now has to make a report. There is a unknown vigilante who is over powered, it’s obvious they’ve been going for a while no one batted an eye, very big ghost problem and mad scientists in town. It’s gonna be a fun report.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Three More Heartbeats

First Babies of Private Garden Instagram AU/Fic

Liked by danivalentine, saweetie, softtcurse, fashionbylunaaa, neelamthadhani, 2forwoyne, shloob_, claybornharlow, dualipa, and 15,930,771 others

y/ninsta and jackharlow: blessed with not only one more heartbeat to love, but three.

mommy and daddy can't wait to meet you 🥺💕

normani: MY JAW IS ON THE FUCKING FLOOR! I CALLED IT! I SAID YOU WERE GOING TO HAVE TRIPLETS!

jackharlow: normani and she won't let me forget she's carrying three either 😭

saweetie: we can finally say something! AUNTIE SAWEETIE REPORTING FOR DUTY

jackharlow: saweetie and no you CANNOT get them grills for their first birthday

saweetie: jackharlow WHY NOT?!

jackharlow: saweetie 😐

jackandy/naremyparents: I FUCKING KNEW IT! MY BABIES ARE HAVING THREE BABIES 😭

urbandjack24: BRB CRYINGGGGGGGGGGG

dualipa: can't wait for them to meet their stepmommy! but all jokes aside, so incredibly happy for the two of you. you're going to be amazing parents. love you both so so much!

jackharlow: dualipa I'm ignoring the first part of your comment but don't think for a second that I won't use my blow torch, but we love you too. I guess.

danivalentine: can we talk about how I was the first one to notice she was pregnant and made her take a test? lol definitely wasn't expecting three though!

jackharlow: danivalentine older siblings know best!

claybornharlow: jackharlow not mine

jackharlow: claybornharlow don't come over for dinner later

druski2funny: Uncle Druski is ready to babysit!

lilnasx: druski2funny you need one yourself, they ain't trusting you with three newborns!

druski2funny: lilnasx and what makes you so qualified?!

lilnasx: druski2funny I have my childcare license

privategarden: our favorite couple is finally becoming parents!

jackharlow: privategarden and many more to follow!

y/ninsta: jackharlow watch yourself you little overachiever! next thing I know we'll literally be having eight children running around here

jackharlow: y/ninsta would that really be a bad thing?

y/ninsta: jackharlow for my vagina, yes 🙄

urbanwyatt: THE FIRST BABIES OF PRIVATE GARDEN!!!! I'M THE GODFATHER AND I HAVE HAD THIS POSITION FOR 8 YEARS AND IT'S FINALLY HAPPENINGGGGGGG 😭😭😭😭

allthingy/n: how much you wanna bet urbanwyatt cried when he found out? 😭😭😭😭😭

urbanwyatt: alltthingy/n I did, but not in front of them lol

softtcurse: Aunty Curse 4 lifeeeeeeee

theestallion: don't be surprised if you start to get packages from me on the daily for my three little angels!

claybornharlow: thank you for carrying our child. I'm excited to be a dad

jackharlow: claybornharlow square the fuck up NEOW

claybornharlow: jackharlow one day you'll let me live in my truth in peace

jackharlow: claybornharlow I'm kicking your ass

2forwoyne: not me up here with my damn eyes watering. they grow up so fast.

quiiso: still remember when jackharlow first laid eyes on y/ninsta and we all CALLED IT!

neelamthadhani: okay so even though I've known for some time, I'm still about to cry. the two of you are going to be amazing parents.

lilnasx: NOT MY PARENTS HAVING ANOTHER SET OF CHILDREN 😭😭😭😭😭

yungskylark: and she's already making us go on late night food runs for her. she has literally put us in rotation. jack has to go every time, but has to take one of us along so he doesn't forget anything lol

urbanwyatt: yungskylark because one time he forgot her ice cream and all hell broke loose in the Harlow household so of course her ass literally has us on a buddy system smh

y/ninsta: and it's obviously working too

shloob_: can we talk about how she was full blown crying yesterday because chipotle was closed and jackharlow was doing his best to console her? I thought we were all going to die 😭

jackharlow: shloob_ I thought she was going to make me sleep outside. not the couch, but outside because I'm the manager of chipotle and decided it was best to close early smh

y/ninsta: jackharlow you can still sleep outside

jackharlow: y/ninsta baby, you weren't supposed to see that

y/ninsta: jackharlow too late

sza: wait a minute, can we talk about urbanwyatt's photography skills because we already know that it was him who did the photoshoot

urbanwyatt: sza I would have hid her prenatal vitamins and her current obsession of hot pickles if she had asked someone else. got me fucked up 😤

saweetie: NOT THE PRENATAL VITAMINS! 😭

urbanwyatt: I took pictures with her by herself and with her and jackharlow but they wanted to keep those for themselves 🥰

urbanwyatt: oh and I'm in some photos too. jackharlow was NOT happy about that, but y/ninsta insisted lmaooooo

yungskylark: urbanwyatt at this point, they're yours too lmaooo

urbanwyattsource: I thought it was really sweet to find out urbanwyatt wouldn't accept money from jackharlow and y/ninsta for doing this photoshoot for them, but they did anyway and gave him triple the amount (for each kid?) bestie goals 😭

y/ninsta: I don't think yall understand when I say that urbanwyatt is literally our best friend and he would do anything for us. we always want to return the favor. love you urby 🥰

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 urbanwyatt: y/ninsta jackharlow thank you two for trusting me to bring your ideas to life

maggieharlow: so excited to be a grandmother to not only one baby, but three! jackharlow if you stress my daughter out and she tells me, expect me on your doorstep, no matter what time of the day or night it is

y/ninsta: maggieharlow thank you mom! jackharlow: maggieharlow just throw your biological child to the woods I see smh

jackharlowsource: girls? boys? both? do we know yet?!?!

y/ninsta: jackharlowsource danivalentine is the only one that knows

urbanwyattsource: Jack is going to lose his shit if it's three girls, that's almost halfway to eight

jackharlowsource: urbanwyattsource they are going to be so spoiled and especially if they look like y/ninsta, he can never tell her no lmaoooo they are going to run that household and jack is just going to be living in it

---

"Boo bear?" You called out to Jack who was laying next to you and trying to stay awake for the movie that you two were watching.

"Yes, baby girl? You okay?"

"I want to leave the house, I'm tired of being stuck in here."

"You do leave the house, baby. You go to your doctor's appointments."

"Not the same, and you know it. I'm tired of hiding this pregnancy." You said while pouting and crossing your arms.

"Now are you absolutely sure? Because obviously once it's out, we can't take it back."

"No shit." You muttered as you rolled your eyes.

"Baby, quit it."

"But I AM SO BORED! All you do is feed me healthy shit and watch movies with me and make me exercise which is getting harder for me to do because I can't even see if my feet are attached to my body anymore. I need to leaveeeeee."

"They're attached, I promise. But if this is what you want to do, then okay." Jack said while shrugging but you could tell that he wasn't on board with the idea at all. 

"Really?!" You asked while turning to your right side to look at him.

"Yes, if this is what my wifey wants. I just have to be ten times more protective of you." You simply eyed him because you could tell deep down that he didn't want you to do it. 

"You do that now. You barely let me out of your sight. I'm lucky if you let me pee by myself."

"Do you blame me? We went from having a miscarriage to having not one, but three babies so excuse me if I'm a little protective, but one thing I'm not going to do for damn sure is apologize for it. You're my priority and you know that."

"I know, I understand why. I'm just miserable sometimes. I can't sleep properly and when I actually do, it's never for long periods of time. Might as well go outside."

All Jack did was sigh and look at you.

"You don't want me to post it do you?" You asked and you just looked down at your hands. You couldn't help it, but you started to cry.

"Oh fuck, baby don't cry! Okay, okay we'll post it! You don't have to cry, I didn't mean to upset you!"

"I JUST WANT THIS ONE THING, WHY WON'T YOU LET ME HAVE IT?!"

Just then you heard Urban's footsteps and assumed he had heard you crying and knew that Jack was about to get yelled at.

"JACK! WHY IS SHE CRYING?! WHAT DID YOUR ASS DO?!"

"HE WON'T LET ME POST MY PREGNANCY PICTURES ON INSTAGRAM!" You replied as you continued to wail.

"Um, well......" Urban started to say and then scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, what?! You agree with him?!" You asked as you found a tissue to wipe your face.

"We're just protective of you. All of us are, but you knew that already. If you do this, you know if you leave the house, you can't go anywhere by yourself. Even if it's to the damn mailbox."

"BUT URBYYYY!"

"Nope. I'm siding with your husband on this one."

“But….” You continued to cry and eventually they both agreed to let you do it.

“Look, if we do this, after we post it you still can’t go anywhere for a few days.” Jack said while sighing even though he was still uneasy about the whole thing. 

“Okay, fine. Oooohhh I want to go to wing stop first!”

“Out of all of the places that we can possibly go, that’s your choice?” Jack asked as Urban smacked him in the back of the head and you started to pout. 

“OW! SHIT!”

“Let the pregnant lady decide what she wants to do with her new found freedom. I’ll take you since your husband is being an ass.”

“HEY! No I’m not! I just want to make sure that’s what she really wants.”

“OOOHHHH BABE! THEY JUST RELEASED A NEW BIRKIN!” You said while shoving your phone into Jack’s face to show him.

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU LITERALLY HAVE ALMOST 20 OF THEM!”

“That’s it, I’m calling Maggie.” You responded while opening your contacts on your phone and Jack just about damn near tackled you to get the phone away from you.

“WAIT! WHAT COLOR?!”

“Light blue please.” You said while smiling up at him and all he did was roll his eyes.

“Spoiled as shit, I swear.”

“No I’m not, I’m just well taken care of. There’s a difference.”

“There is? Enlighten me please.” Jack said while handing you his credit card so that you could order what you wanted. Since he handed it to you, that was an invitation for you to get anything that you wanted so you added three more Birkins to the cart.

“You take really good care of me and get me what I want.”

“That’s… that’s the definition of spoil…… BABY WHY IS MY TOTAL $10,000 DOLLARS?!”

“Huh?” You asked while looking to Urban for help who acted as if he didn’t know what was going on. 

“If you can huh, you can hear Mrs. Harlow!”

“I just wanted the girls to have matching ones! You know if they are girls that is!”

“Well, we already know how the four of you will gang up on me in order to get what you want.”

“We will do no such thing!”

All Jack did was eye you as Urban laughed. 

“Oh! What pictures should I post?”

“It would be none if it was left up to me, but you can post one and one only. That way the other ones are something special just for us.”

“The Harlows are about to break the internet, just watch.”

“And Normani can finally say that she was right the entire time.”

“Right about what?”

“She was the one who said that we would have triplets.”

After you and Jack agreed on which picture to post as your announcement to the world about your pregnancy, you logged out of instagram after finishing the movie and went downstairs in order to make some chicken alfredo pasta since you had been craving it.

The pasta was on the top shelf of the cabinet and you didn’t know where Jack or Urban was so you moved the chair so you could step up and reach it when you heard Jack yell from behind you.

“If you put one damn toe on that chair! Baby, you better not!”

“Oops.”

“Caught red handed! Why didn’t you call me to come help you?!”

“I can still do some things on my own without your help! I’m just pregnant!”

All Jack did was cross his arms and stare at you.

“Can you get me the pasta noodles, please?” You said in a small voice and Jack reached up to get them with no problem.

“You know all my therapy sessions are now centered around you and how you have me fearing for your life on a daily basis because you don’t ask for help. Baby, you have got to stop doing that. I know that’s what you're used to, but you can’t do that right now. Now what if you would have fallen and then what? You could have hit your head or anything could have happened.”

“I… just.. I feel like a burden sometimes.” You confessed while starting to boil the water for the noodles. You had your back turned to Jack so he couldn’t see how your eyes started to water. 

“What?! Why would you EVER think that? Baby, look at me. You are literally carrying three of my big headed children. You know I would do anything for you no matter how big or small and even if you weren’t pregnant, that’s not going to change. You know you’re my priority and you come first.”

“I know… I just feel helpless sometimes. I hate asking you for things that I used to be able to do on my own.”

“And you will soon get back to being able to do it on your own. Just not right now, okay?”

“Okay.” You quietly said as Jack leaned down to give you several kisses which you eagerly accepted and pulled him into a hug. 

“I love you and I only want to keep you safe.”

“I love you too and I know.” You said while hugging him tighter.

Just then Jack’s phone went off indicating a text from the group chat that you were both in from 2fo.

2fo- I think the two of you just broke the internet. Instagram is down AND twitter crashed ever since you two announced it two hours ago, I think TikTok might be next lmaoooo

“Baby, Urban called it.”

“What happened?”

“2fo said he thinks we broke the internet. Instagram and Twitter aren’t working and haven’t been for the last two hours.”

“Well, did you expect anything less? I make pregnancy look good.”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

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@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[littlewitchthatwrites]

Cauldron (part one)

The Ordinary World (chapter one)

Somewhere in the world (though no one is sure which one) there was a special little town in the middle of nowhere full of happy people, tall trees with red and golden leaves, and sweet little houses that lined the neat sidewalks and streets.

Our story begins on one particular street. The house on the corner of a cute little neighborhood was a two story house painted white with a blue front door and a big gorgeous garden. It was three days from Halloween and this family was preparing a little late. Orange christmas lights hung from the railing on the porch, there was a plastic skeleton hanging by the porch swing, and four glowing jack o'lanterns by the door. “Hey puck,” a voice called from the kitchen, “Mom says it’s breakfast time!”

The voice traveled up the stairs and into a small room where a girl sat in the middle of the floor… well, hovering above it. She was in deep thought and concentration, the world around her had melted away from her mind. Her room was small and quiet, books lined one of her walls, stuffed animals covered her bed, pendulums, tarot decks, and loose pieces of paper covered in runes and symbols covered every surface. She had red curtains that gave a warm glow to her well decorated living space. One of Puck’s walls had a long window that opened to a little hang out spot on the roof where she had spent many nights stargazing.

Puck smelled of roses and vanilla and the world around her was still, calm, and peaceful. Puck inhaled and exhaled slowly. With every breath the room got warmer. Shadows danced the waltz with the flames of newly lit candles that were positioned in a circle underneath the little witch. With every inhale another candle lit and began the dance.

“PUCK!” The door burst open and a tall boy rushed in. Puck screamed and the second she broke concentration she felt her tailbone slam onto her floor. “Ow! Damn it Oisin!” She yelled at him. Oisin was a tall boy with light brown hair and small freckles that were lighter that his skin, much like a fawn. He was like a deer in many ways. He was a graceful boy, he had very nice reflexes, and was on the track team at his high school. “Come on! Mom made lavender waffles.” Oisin smiled at his sister and walked off. He didn't even close the door. Puck rolled her eyes and threw on some clothes. Some navy blue shorts with fishnets under them. Brown combat boots stretched up just below her knees and a white tank top clung to her honey tan shoulders, completing the look with a belt and her mother’s favorite necklace. She loved that necklace, though you’d never hear her say it out loud. Kendo The kitchen smelled like lavender and cinnamon. It was bright and colorful. Four plates of waffles were set on the counter while Puck and Oisin’s mother, Rose, hung bundles of herbs in front of the windows. She smiled at her children. “Good morning my dears. How are you feeling?” Oisin beamed at his mother. She was so bright and lovely. How could anyone wish for a better mother. Noted, she was pretty much a human Disney princess but less animals and more kids. “Sore.” Puck grumbled before shoving a fork full of waffle into her mouth. “Where's Dad?” Oisin asked. He tapped his fork on the wooden counter. “Hon, he’s never awake this early in the day. He’ll… you know…”

Puck made an explosion sound and acted it out with her hands. He nudged his sister a little too hard making her fall from the stool she was sitting on. She let out a loud ‘OUCH’ as she hit the wooden floor of the kitchen. Rose rolled her eyes and helped her daughter off the floor. “You guys need to get to school. Oisin, don't wreck my car!” She said tossing the keys to him. “Okey Doke.” He pulled Puck by her backpack towards the door. She reached for her waffles in a desperate attempt to take another bite but it was no use. They closed the door behind them and got in the car.

“I have my license too! Why do you always get to drive?”

Because, my little sister, mom loves me more.” Oisin smiled and ruffled Puck’s hair.

“You are literally one minute older than me!”

Oisin laughed, “Oh I know. Haha i know.”

[perlukafarinn]

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married. 

*

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

[whoacanada]

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight. 

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

[ecto-american]

Hey I wanted to fuck around and ramble about how I specifically headcanon and like to portray Jack and Maddie career-wise for my fanfics/personal take on the DP canon.

So to start; I headcanon Maddie as having a masters in electrical engineering and Jack as having a PhD in Thanatology (the scientific study of death and the practices associated with it), though he has a bachelor's degree in mortuary science while also having a funeral director’s license.

Why these? Because I absolutely see Maddie as the builder and thinker, the one who can build things, and Jack as the theorist who knows everything there is to know about ghosts. I picked Thanatology because it was as close as I could find to studying ghosts in an actual applied scientific sense, but I liked the mortuary science because it felt like a good accompaniment. I originally had mortuary sciences as his PhD (if you’ve heard me talk about this before), but I found out that I was actually a big dumb because in the US, you cannot get a PhD in mortuary sciences ihsofsa so I did research for an alternative.

So how do their jobs work? Well, I think it's approached in a very academic-y sense. While I kind of play with it loosely based on the specific fanfiction, I generally say that their job is a sorta combination of any number of the following:

Research grants to study ghosts, from both the government and just private companies

Writing books/textbooks revolved around ghosts (like ectobiology, ghost hunting, etc)

Contract ghost hunting work (like being paid to get rid of ghosts from private residents/buildings)

Income from ghost invention patents (think their Fenton weapons and things like the Fenton thermos)

They do non-ghost research and inventing as well (since they seem to custom build their own computers and other various technologies, and even just things like the Specter Speeder can be marketed to a non-ghost hunting audience like the military, and Jazz implied in GNO that Maddie has a lot of inventions outside of Jack that she works on)

Paid to teach/give lectures or make appearances at seminars, conventions or speak at certain events

Since Jack in this is licensed funeral director, he also occasionally works with a funeral home, and sometimes I even headcanon that Jack and Maddie used to own a funeral home before they got the grant/funding to build their ghost portal (which I touch on a little later!)

Jack teaches part time at a local community college/university, teaching normally one or two classes here but sometimes more, and sometimes even as Casper High teaching ghost 101 safety

Maddie is also a licensed electrician that does occasional work related to that

And this is kind of where you may be asking: wait, aren't they kind of a joke? Why are you giving them all this credit?

Well, honestly, I really like to think of the Fentons as being actually fairly well respected academically and by fellow ghost hunters. There's a lot of scientists that you'll basically learn are real Weirdos, but that doesn't distract from the fact that they are incredibly smart people who made amazing breakthroughs.

To me, I headcanon Jack as being autistic, and that ghosts and the paranormal is a special interest in which he's actually an incredibly well respected scientist, who has the most accurate (as far as the paranormal studies scientific community knows) information and knowledge about ghosts. He's been writing and studying it for twenty years, and arguably, essentially proved that ghosts exists because of his ghost portal and living in Amity Park, where ghost activity boomed. While there's canon evidence dedicated to him being made fun of in Million Dollar Ghost, I personally like to think of this as more of other ghost hunters just kind of seeing how Awkward and ridiculous he can be socially. We also hear about Danny and Jazz dunking on them, but I think this comes more from two teenagers being embarrassed about their oddball parents.

I definitely picture the Fentons as still being the town weirdos because well. You see their oddballness every day. But most ectobiologists would only see Jack when he's presenting and read his work, where I imagine he's presented as a bit less goofy and more serious. Because it's a chance for him to essentially ramble on about his special interest and area of expertise without interruption to an incredibly eager audience that's going to be asking questions and wanting his opinions. To me, Jack definitely seems like the person who you don't really think about how odd he kinda is (purely because of masking and it just not really coming up) until you're really with him 1v1 outside of these of these conventions/lectures/classroom environments.

I don’t totally see Maddie teaching, because while I’m definitely picturing her here as being a very smart mind that would likely also be a good teacher; the specific reasoning why I say Jack would be the ones that does the teaching part time is because it’s literally perfect for him. It's an excuse for him to trap 25+ people in a room on a regular basis to listen to him about ghosts. He'd absolutely just one of those easy A teachers, where if you just show up and listen to him babble about ghosts for 1-3 hours and turn in the homework (he gives no tests, midterm/finals or quizzes), you get your easy A. It’s the similar concept with the seminars and guest lecture things; Jack is just much more enthusiastic and would want that solo speaking time, and Maddie knows how much it means to him, so I feel like she would let him have this.

Maddie herself, I feel liker her heart rests more in just the general inventing and building side of it. While she has an interest in ghosts, this also seems to mostly enjoy the physical side of inventing. I say this mostly because, again, in GNO, Maddie has a whole bunch of inventions that she’s working on outside of things she builds/helps Jack build. To me, this straight up personal invention projects, even though they’re still ghost based, tells me that her heart and passion seems to lie within engineering and not necessarily too much in the way of ghost theory.

The way his and Maddie's relationship works to me is that Jack knows more of the ghost related information and he relays this to Maddie for her to build what they need. For example, he'll tell her “this is what the Ghost Zone is like, these are the dangers, this is what we need to survive, etc” and Maddie will have the knowledge to design the Specter Speeder, and they build it together with Maddie being the primary leader and troubleshooter.

However, Maddie has the education and license to do the electrical work and knows how to properly build and submit the patents. Meanwhile, Jack will eventually do all the research and write and publish the book detailing what they learned about the Ghost Zone. Repeat the process with ghost weapons and other such inventions.

I like to think that Jack and Maddie were essentially going through the process of getting the huge government grant they'd need to build the actual ghost portal, which took a lot of prior research, convincing, pleas for money and getting the city permission and code permits to get the money and permission building it, hence the like 20 year gap between the prototype portal and the final portal. Especially since they obviously started a family during that time too.

[inkdemonapologist]

Been a lot of emotions in recent BatIM Call of Cthulhu events!!

Prophet Sammy slipped and sank into the mud in the swamp and immediately went into DROWNING FLASHBACKS from his inky death back in the Star Pools. Stunningly, panicking and thrashing around did not help and in fact only got him more stuck.

Henry was the one to pull Sammy out, which is a bit weird, because the Prophet didn’t actually... expect them to... want to help him??? Henry was also leaking gold blood out of his face from doing some intense magic (???), it’s fine, don’t worry about it.

Prophet Sammy ran out of ink, which he has to drink periodically to keep himself from changing back into normal Sammy, and JOEY... GAVE HIM SOME OF HIS OWN INK SO HE COULD HAVE A LITTLE MORE TIME???? Both me and the Prophet were absolutely flabbergasted.

We rescued Jack’s old boyfriend Peter, that newspaper editor guy from before! He was trapped in another world and Jack managed to guide him back to this one and we all pulled his reflection out of the Lake and fought off the eldritch horror that tried to follow him out to our world! THERES A LOT HAPPENING IN THIS GAME

As always Boo has the summary posts for a more detailed description of events, but if you’re here for out-of-context quotes IVE GOT YOU COVERED, here’s some quotes from Session 7:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Henry] *rolling dice* Some nice dice clacking for the auditory experience, [Sammy] Call of Cthulhu ASMR [Joey] Some clacking dice, some screaming,

[GM] But you are on the shallower end of it, so you're not sinking. You are SUPER muddy. [Joey] That's fine-- [Jack] Noooo!! Jack's sweater!!!!!

[GM] Jack's turn! Make a luck roll, Jack! [Jack] *rolls terribly* ...hrrMMM... [GM] Okay. We'll just. We'll just keep that. For later. :)

[Sammy] Sammy is scrambling and panicking and yelling! [GM] Make a strength check! [Sammy] Cool, I'm good at those. *rolls* Success! [GM] You strongly thrash yourself about waist-deep in the mud. [Sammy] [Sammy] OKAY, um, [Sammy] That is. Uh. Worse. Than it was previously, yes? [GM] Yeah. :) [Sammy] OKAY, COOL,,, JUST CHECKING,

[Sammy] I don't think it's good when the GM says "Fun!" I think that's bad.

[GM] *flipping through notes* Where are your stats. Where are your stats, sir. [Sammy] "Young man, where are your stats?" [Jack] If he didn't do his homework, then all his stats are zero.

[Henry] Nope. I'm gonna accept my fate. Henry's goin' to space. [GM] The angel doesn't try to claw Henry, but it does pick him up! He's in the air. [Henry] Bye guys!

[GM] A gunshot does come from the brush also, and it hits the angel next to the one that's got Henry. [Henry] (Thanks, Norman!) [Jack] Does Norman have a gun??? [GM] Norman's not going to go into a cult swamp without a gun! What kind of crazy person would do that?!

[Sammy] I'm sorry if we lose your hat, Jack. [Jack] D: Nooo it's not his hat! [Sammy] Yeah I know, well I'm sorry if we lose it. [Joey] Yeah, sorry. [Jack] Noooo he needs to give that back! [Joey] well then he should wAKE UP!!! [Sammy] Love the idea that Peter later comes through here and finds his own hat discarded on the ground and is like, OH NO, JACK! [GM] Make another luck roll, maybe it's still on. [Jack] Okay dice! This is the ONLY thing I need you t-*sound of dice bouncing off the desk* whoOPS--

[Henry] *still held aloft by eldritch horrors* I'm guessing I don't hear anything either [GM] No, you're just having a nice little roller coaster ride.

[Joey] Ohhh... I guess we wouldn't need to breathe in space, huh. [Joey] ...AM I BREATHING???

[Joey] What time is it... are we at like, 8:30, 9ish? [GM] Well that's highly specific! What happens at 8:39?!

[Joey] Joey's still not willing to let random cultists carry Jack, unless they can do something to convince him??? [Sammy] I feel like the main convincing tool at this point is GUNS? Pointed at us. I think that's the main thing.

[Jack] I guess Jack is the imposter, since he's not doing human things like "breathing"

[GM] And shove all of you into a hut! With Norman-- no, that's right, he didn't get caught, I keep forgetting, his Hide skill is higher than I thought it was. Norman's still at large! [Jack] NORMAN, IS LOOSE, IN THE SWAMP [Joey] What crimes will he commit!

[Jack] This is why you don't smear your weird glowing blood on symbols that are known to watch!!!

[GM] They probably did take away a lot of your cooler stuff. [Sammy] I didn't have any cool stuff. I just had a coat. [Joey] You had ink. [Sammy] *muttering* I wasn't going to mention that that was in my coat.

[Joey] Joey is going to grab Sammy's face... and give him some of his ink. [Sammy] *stunned* Oh...! [Joey] We don't need a passed out Sammy!! [Jack] Only ONE unconscious man in this party!

[Jack] How has Cthulhu AU made "Joey feeds Sammy ink" wHOLESOME in some way?!?

[GM] They've got him in a robe now, and they've painted that yellow sign on it -- possibly in Henry's blood, because why not! [Joey] Excuse me, you did not get license to use that; I'm going to sue you in court now, [Jack] Unethically sourced! [GM] ...Did you just call Henry's blood your IP?

[GM] *startled laugh* my husband just said "Intravenous Property,"

[GM] The other prophet guy seems to be having a grand old time. It is even-odds whether he might just look over to see if Sammy's looking, just to smirk at him. [Sammy] oHHHHHH BOY. I hate this guy! I hate him. [Jack] Okay, well, I wanna-- [Sammy] *still going* I know who I'M sacrificing. [Jack] --Sammy, no. [Joey] You want to make a GOOD sacrifice, not give him trash. [Sammy] ...*sighs* Yeah, yeah, you're right... [Jack] You don't want to give the Masked Messenger a McDonald's burger.

[GM] It's Pete! [Sammy] Oh! Sammy vaguely knows who this is. [Henry] I'm gonna make a check to see if Henry recognises this guy, in the heat of the moment. [Jack] In the Pete of the moment. >:3c [Sammy] *groans* Why would you do this. Everyone was being so well-behaved.

[Sammy] I'm gonna... I'm gonna wait. Gonna be actually, a little bit smart. Trying out this new thing.

[GM] One of the angels is definitely heading your way. [Jack] Oops. [Sammy] ...what if we just... close the door.

[GM] And a sanity roll from Joey and anyone else that is watching this. [Sammy] *sarcastic deadpan* Oh No. I'd Better Look Away. *scoffs* Why would I NOT want to watch my lord work?

[GM] It does a d8 + damage bonus, which, I don't think Joey has one. But it does a d8. [Joey] Does Bendy have one? [GM] No! Bendy's damage bonus is NEGATIVE TWO because he's a tiny cartoon character! You don't want his damage bonus. [Jack] You attack and there's a squeaky hammer noise,

[GM] Peter doesn't seem to have a reflection. [Sammy] ...Do we? [GM] Yeah [Sammy] Okay. That's cool, that's nice, luv 2 reflect. [Jack] *whispering* Peter vampire???

[GM] Sammy thinks this is a spawn of the Yellow King, something that happens to people who dabble too much in his worship. [Sammy] Again, MORE reason why this guy is an idiot and trusting the wrong god! [Sammy] ...Sammy knows all this stuff and is still like "yeah, but the Masked Messenger is cool! I'll definitely be rewarded for my service!"

[Jack] Jack didn't learn how to ASTRAL PROJECT for Pete to get eaten by something!!

[Sammy] Did they steal our ink??? [GM] Looks like they poured it out. [Jack] Pour one out for their FAKE LORD,

[Jack] Rescued. From a cult. By a second, different cult! [Joey] Our cult is COOL, though. [Henry] the coolt

[pinknatural]

Dean tries, really tries, to think of it as a present. Finally, his dad is letting loose on the ropes a bit, finally letting him hunt on his own. But it’s kinda hard to convince himself when his dad sent him in with the case already figured out, with everything but the manual labor already done. 

It’s more like an errand he wants me to complete, Dean thinks resentfully, digging his shovel into the soft dirt. Happy birthday, go dig up two graves. Have fun! 

Dean huffs and pivots to the grave beside the other one. According to Dean’s research, the nuns had wanted to be buried together, but when the convent found their bodies they hadn’t really gone for that option. They had been buried next to each other, though, which makes Dean’s job just a little bit easier. 

He starts digging, even though he hasn’t finished digging out the first grave. You gotta dig ‘em up at the same time, ‘cause if you gank one then her lover gets angry, and the last thing Dean needs is an angry ghost harassing him while he digs up a grave. He can’t help but think that those other nuns should’ve buried them together. Not just because it would make Dean’s life easier, but because they wanted it. Because they were in love, and they killed themselves, and the convent owed them that much. 

Dean inhales, then exhales, his breath escaping in a little white cloud. It’s chilly, ‘cause it’s January, but it’s not too cold. He’s not wearing gloves or anything but he can still feel his hands. He shifts to the other grave and starts digging. 

He remembers what Charlie at the last school said about what his dad got him for his seventeenth birthday--a new car. Lindsey got a fancy necklace. Jake’s birthday hadn’t come up yet, but he’d been hoping for a dog. All Dean has is blisters on his fingers and a sore back from when the ghost of Sister Felicity threw him into a bookcase while he was retrieving the prayer book the nuns’d passed notes to each other in. That book, which had notes in the margins of their love, is gone now. Dean burned it.

Tears sting at Dean’s eyes. He must’ve been too soft, about Jake. He must’ve--something must’ve given him away. Why else would he be punished like this?

He knows, Dean thinks. He knows, he knows, he knows. It becomes a mantra, moving in time with his shovel. He switches graves. 

It’s just that it’s his birthday. The message--the warning--would’ve gotten across regardless, Dean thinks. But why, of all days, why his birthday? Why can’t Dean have a fucking break for once? 

Seventeen sucks, Dean thinks, hitting the first coffin. He climbs out of the hole and switches to the other one. It supremely sucks. Sixteen you get a drivers’ license, eighteen you can, like, vote or whatever, but seventeen is nothing. Just a bunch of shit. 

He knows, he knows, he knows. 

Dean hits the second coffin and breaks it open. The bones are like the ones in Sister Perpetua’s grave--pale and gross, just like most bones are. Dean doesn’t know why he kind of expected different. He climbs out and throws his shovel aside, picks up the thing of salt. He dumps it on one grave, then the other. Lighter fluid, next. Dean’s done this before. Even if Dad and Sammy are usually here, Dean knows how this goes. 

He takes the matchbook from his pocket, strikes one and drops it, then the other. The graves light up, the flame flickering bright and warm, and Dean thinks he hears screaming. He drops to his knees and whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He realizes that he’s still crying, that tears have run down his face, and for the first time on this supremely shitty birthday, he’s glad to be alone, kneeling between the graves of two women who were in love, twin fires burning bright on either side of him. 

-

Dean wakes up slowly, as he often does these days. There’s a warm blanket around his shoulders, and under that a heavy arm slung over his waist. Sometimes Dean remembers the days he was too antsy to even get under the covers, ready to jump into action at any minute, and it all seems so absurd. 

Light trickles in softly from the window across the room, and the arm around Dean’s waist tightens. Dean turns, slow, smiling already at the sight he knows will greet him. 

Cas is kind of awake, squinting at him but smiling, his hair ruffled and sticking out everywhere, and Dean feels sort of like he might burst. 

“Mmm,” he says. “Good morning.” He stretches his own arm around Cas’s shoulders and draws the man closer to him, Cas’s arm shifting from it’s loose hold to pull their chests together. 

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas says, his voice even lower, rough from sleep. Dean grins, tucks his face under Cas’s chin to hide it. 

“Every day’s my birthday when I get to wake up to the best present ever laying in my bed,” Dean says, even though that’s ridiculously sappy and also doesn’t make sense. 

“I am not a present, Dean,” Cas says, and Dean makes a ‘hmm’ noise. 

“I was talking about Miracle, dumbass,” he says, nudging the sleeping dog in question with his toes.

“Of course you were,” Cas says indulgently, like he’s just humoring him. Which is fair, possibly. Dean thinks that Cas spends a lot of time just humoring him. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Dean asks, shifting his arm to touch the back of Cas’s neck, right at the spot where his t-shirt meets his skin.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas says, holding him tighter like he thinks Dean will get out of bed, which is quite frankly an absurd idea. It’s a Sunday, and it’s his birthday. Dean has nowhere else to be.

“It might, since Sammy’s coming over today,” Dean says, even though Sam and Eileen are coming over in the late afternoon and it’s definitely still morning.

“Well, it’s not time for them to come yet,” Cas says. “We can get up later.”

Dean definitely agrees, and he snuggles back down into Cas, getting even more comfortable. He’s just thinking about falling back asleep, maybe, deciding that this is his best birthday ever, even though it’s only been like ten minutes, when he remembers his worst birthday and has to pause. 

“Dean?” Cas asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Dean noses against him, taking a deep breath. “You read my...my dad’s journal?”

“Yes,” Cas says warily. The journal is usually safe, but Cas can get pissy when John Winchester is mentioned. 

“You remember my seventeenth birthday?” Dean asks, and then all of a sudden his angel is trying to squeeze the life out of him. Dean appreciates it, even though he can’t really breathe. 

“I remember,” Cas growls, and Dean pats his shoulder. 

“I was just thinking about how that was the worst, and this is the best,” Dean says, and Cas relaxes his hold a little. “I, uh...that day felt like a huge warning. And now I’m here, with you, and, uh, it’s pretty awesome, not gonna lie.”

“John Winchester deserves to rot in hell for eternity for what he did to you and Sam,” Cas says. “But I am glad to be here with you, and I agree that it’s pretty awesome.”

“I love you,” Dean says, helpess as he always is in the face of Cas’s protectiveness. 

“I love you too,” Cas says, moving a hand to tenderly cradle Dean’s jaw. He begins to guide Dean’s head towards his, and Dean is so sorry to interrupt, but--

“Do you smell pancakes?” he asks, and Cas pauses, considering. 

“Yes,” he says finally. 

“Well, if I’m here in bed, and you’re here in bed, and Miracle, I’m pretty sure, can’t make pancakes, and is also in bed, then who…”

“Jack,” they say together, and Dean laughs. 

“Do we trust Jack with the stove?”

“He is God,” Cas says, but that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes’. They look at each other and then sigh, rolling apart so they can get out of bed. 

“We’ll continue this later,” Dean says, pointing at Cas, who nods. 

“Of course,” he says, and he reaches out and grabs Dean’s shirt, pulling him in for a sadly-brief kiss. “Happy birthday.”

Dean beams at him, and then they go downstairs to help their son make pancakes without burning the house down, Miracle bounding down the stairs beside them, and Dean can’t help but agree with his earlier assessment--that this is his best birthday ever. 

(ao3)

[lightleckrereins]

Thoughts on where the supernatural ending went wrong and why it wasn’t that hard to make it right

Alright I don’t usually do long analysis posts, but I’ve been yelling about this for over two hours so here it goes.

Spoilers for 15x20 (duh)

First things first: I’ll say it now, it was the right ending for the characters don’t @ me. It was the right ending but the worst possible way to get there.

Sam having a family and a relatively normal life, Dean in heaven with all his loved ones, Cas helping Jack be better than Chuck and making the world a better place. If you look back into their journeys that is exactly what they wanted and what they fought for.

The finale starts like a MOTW episode for no reason, cuts to Dean dying in a really dumb way and having an emotional goodbye that no one cared about because we were expecting a resolution to 15x18. Then cuts to an emotional Sam montage, then cuts to a rushed epilogue and that’s it. Nothing else.

I’ve seen many posts during the last two weeks on how this should end, but the basics are: getting Castiel back, Destiel resolution, Sam reuniting with Eileen, Sam and Dean going their separate ways with their respective partners but implying this is not the end. This closes the show nicely, closes every storyline we’ve had this season, and gives the characters actual happy endings.

But we didn’t get a single one of those.

What we got was a mess that dismissed everything they did this season and many things they did the past 15 years.

So, what went wrong and how could it have gone right? Note, I do believe they had to rewrite things because of the pandemic and all the lockdowns but there were better ways to do it.

The most disappointing thing about the finale is Castiel. The one thing everyone wanted was to get him back nothing more. There is this one great post (that I couldn’t find to save my life) about the basic thing this episode had to do and it was to save Cas, for him to get an actual conversation with Dean and closure. Destiel or not we needed closure. We got an offhanded comment and a license plate. That was the farewell to one of the most beloved characters this show ever had.

They could have ended 15x19 with Jack bringing Cas back before leaving to do god stuff, then Dean avoiding the subject until he gets impaled into a nail and Cas enters the barn perfectly mirroring his very first entrance to save Dean. And then they have the conversation™. Satisfying ending, ties all loose ends, can still end the show with Sam and Dean together in heaven.

They could have done Cas arrive to the barn just in time to save Dean saying Jack saved him and not explain a thing and it would have been better.

They could have made the same thing and then Sam answers the phone, and it is Castiel telling him Dean is happy in heaven and wants him to live his life. Ambiguous about Destiel but still good enough and again they can have the same ending.

They could have had Cas receiving Dean in heaven and (a kiss) resolution right there.

Dean dies on the dumbest death in 15 seasons of supernatural and that’s saying something.

That could have been avoided with either not having the nail conveniently there or with Castiel saving him. There solved you can do a million other things for the epilogue.

Or you know if they really wanted to end Cas on 15x18 they could have made his moment of true happiness, learning to be human and knowing he is fighting for the right reasons. It would have avoided burying the gays and coming off as the most homophobic finale ever.

Cas is literally dismissed but looking past that they gave him the perfect ending only failed to actually show the thing. He started as a soldier from heaven who rebelled because it was the right thing to do. Throughout eleven seasons he grows to understand humans and to get disappointed with heaven. In the end he fights for humanity and wants to make things right. Him continuing to mentor Jack in being a better god than Chuck is the perfect ending for Castiel’s arc.

Eileen never appears again. You are telling me they brought her back, created yet another loophole to bring her back to life, made a season long storyline about her and Sam getting together, killed her again, implied she is back to life (again) thanks to Jack. Just to completely ignore her in the finale.

I know the pandemic might have made it impossible for the show to bring Shoshannah Stern back for one day of filming, and if you squint it is implied the wife is Eileen, but that’s not good enough.

Here is where it feels there were rewrites. The best resolution was doing an actual reunion with the two of them going off together if that wasn’t possible with the lockdown the next best thing was to confirm in some way that Sam and Eileen ended up together.

Easiest way, when Sam was dying and they were zooming into all the photos doing a long dramatic pause on a photo of Eileen, or with she and Sam together. They could have taken a behind the scenes photo of Shoshannah and Jared and photoshoped it. Just to confirm they ended together.

I do believe both Sam and Dean dying and ending in heaven together was the right call, but Dean’s death was still dumb.

He should have either died in a hunt on a really epic way or (my personal favorite) died as an old man with Sam by his side and given his speech there. That would have been impactful, and the speech is actually really good. It was overshadowed by the Castiel shaped hole the finale had.

Either way Dean dying first and getting the new heaven explanation feels right, but it should have been Castiel or Jack receiving him there not Bobby. And that is another thing I feel had to be rewritten. The dialogue on that scene makes me think that in a non covid year everyone would have been there to receive Dean to heaven. And I mean everyone Mary, John, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, original Charlie, Bobby, Kevin, Pamela, Adam, Benny (even if this one is impossible), I’m sure I forgot someone.

And then he goes on a drive and meets Sam at the end. That ending works perfectly and would have been super powerful with the right execution but was overshadowed by everyone’s collective anger.

A perfect finale would have started with Castiel returning (even if it required mime vampires in skull masks), followed by the conversation everyone was hoping for, Eileen returning. And then the epilogue montage.

If I could ask for things during that it would have been: Destiel with a roadhouse, Cas coming and going to help Jack become a better god. Sam and Eileen going off together and eventually retiring together. Their wedding with Dean as best man and Castiel marrying them (also destiel wedding but I know that is way too much to ask). A montage of everyone getting together for Christmas and stuff. Scenes showing how hunters still visit Sam for info, magic, and advice. Eileen being pregnant and them being happy parents together. Dean being a good uncle. A good death for Dean with Sam, Cas, and Jack by his side and then the speech would have destroyed me. A good look for old man Sam and old man Dean. And eventually Sam dying and reuniting with Dean.

That would have felt satisfying and like they earned that ending.

One last thing. The “we want to thank you” speech felt like throwing salt in the wound of a really bad finale, but it would have been a billion times better if they got Misha there, and every actor and crewmember who was ever relevant to this show saying thank you (from home if they couldn’t be there for some reason covid).

[365days365movies]

April 5, 2021: Arsenic and Old Lace (1944) (Recap: Part One)

Yeah, so...Spectrum exploded last night.

So, I'm unfortunately a little behind. BUT NEVER FEAR! I'll get back on time before you know it! So, uh...where were we last time? OH RIGHT! Let's talk about black comedy. And I don't mean black-and-white comedies, or comedies prominently featuring African-American culture and demographic. No, I mean dark comedies.

The "black comedy" functions off of macabre or taboo humor and jokes, and is often closely associated with biting satire and commentary in film. That definition is loose as hell, I know, but it's all about the subject matter. The most common subject matter for dark humor is death, of course, and related subjects to death. War, murder, strife, madness, and violence are also common topics here.

Some of the best comedies are black comedies, though. For example, Brazil (1985; dir. Terry Gilliam) focuses on themes of depression, dreams, terrorism, totalitarian governments, and madness. And it's GREAT. How about The Death of Stalin (2018; dir. Armando Iannucci)? The title ALONE should tell you everything you need to know about the tone and topic, AND YET...

It's HILARIOUS. And also informative! If you haven't seen it, I definitely recommend it. And again, that film is about, well...the death of Stalin, and the fallout of his disastrous and murderous regime. Dark, DARK topic, but very funny movie.

Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb is about war; Fargo is about murder in North Dakota; Heathers is about a toxic relationship and the death and murder of teenagers; Birdman, or The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance is about an actor's existential crisis and complete mental breakdown; and Trainspotting is about the devastating effects of drug addiction and features a DEAD BABY FOR CHRIST'S SAKE...and yet they're all full of laughs! Except for the baby scene. Fuck me, the baby scene in Trainspotting.

So, yeah, these are a diverse group of films, that's for sure. But where does it all start? There's 1942's To Be or Not to Be (dir. Ernst Lubitsch), which is about a Polish theatre company who need to escape in the midst of...well, 1942 Poland. If you don't get why that's dark, you should probably look up some history, bud. Charlie Chaplin would dip into the role in 1947's Monsieur Verdoux, which I mentioned last time. And there's the seldom-talked-about Kind Hearts and Coronets (dir. Robert Hamer), a 1949 film about murder for status, essentially.

But it's hard to argue that the most prominent early black comedy is 1944's Cary Grant vehicle, Arsenic and Old Lace.

Directed by Frank Capra, this film was based on a 1941 stage play, and is about...well, we'll get to it. While its prominence as a black comedy is one reason I'm watching this movie, the other is...well, to be honest, this is a movie I heard about CONSTANTLY from my Mom, as this is one of her favorites. And yet, like Dirty Dancing, I've somehow never seen it! Let's remedy that.

So, without further ado, let's get into it! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The film starts off with a BANG, as a man calls me a “big simp” to my face! Actually, he’s screaming at a Brooklyn Dodgers game, where a massive fight breaks out. This fight quickly transitions to a city hall, where a line of people are waiting to file marriage licenses. Amongst the line is Mortimer Brewster (Cary Grant) and Elaine Harper (Priscilla Lane).

Brewster is hiding from the press, as he’s a famous reviewer, and author of the Bachelor’s Bible, and it would be quite the scandal for him to get married. And yet, he’s head over heels in love with Elaine. After going through an existential crisis about the whole thing, he gives into Elaine’s sweet demeanor, and the two file their marriage license officially.

It’s Halloween day, and we move from the city to the suburbs of Brooklyn, where two policemen, O’Hara (Jack Carson) and Sanders (John RIdgely) are on patrol. Sanders tells O’Hara of the kindly Brewster Sisters, the sweetest women on Earth, both of whom live in the neighborhood. Currently, they are being visited by Reverend Harper (Grant Mitchell), Elaine’s father. He’s speaking with Abby (Josephine Hull) and Martha Brewster (Jean Adair), the kindly aunts of Mortimer. 

Also living there is Mortimer’s brother Teddy Brewster (John Alexander), who apparently believes that he’s Teddy Roosevelt, which is...hilarious. Dude is hilarious, seriously. The cops come over to visit the two, and collect some clothes and toys for local charity. Also, Teddy only leaves a room by screaming “CHAAAAARGE!!!”, and running up the stairs, and I love Teddy a lot.

Reverend Harper and the cops leave for the night, and the sisters settle down for the evening. Abby and Martha state that their plans for Elaine and Mortimer should go as scheduled, which is probably talking about their marriage. Abby also mentions that she’s done something while she was away, to Martha’s delight and surprise. They tell Teddy that he’ll soon be digging a new lock for the Panama Canal...whatever that means.

Martha’s about to go to the basement to see what Abby’s done, but she states that because she was all by herself, the surprise is in the window seat. As she’s about to look at the surprise, Elaine shows up in the window, and the two arrive to give the happy news that they’re married. Elaine goes to tell her father of the news, while Mortimer goes to tell his sweet aunts. Afterwards, the two will be on their honeymoon, going to Niagara Falls. And I should say, they��re quite a sweet couple.

After telling the news to his aunts, he asks them where his notes are for his new controversial book, Mind Over Matrimony. They go to look for it around the house, and Teddy comes downstairs, dressed up in attire to “go to Panama.” Aunt Abby comes across a childhood picture of Jonathan, Mortimer’s brother and apparently a violent sociopath or some sort. She goes to burn the picture (geez), and Mortimer continues to look for the notes. He goes to the window seat.

Yup! It’s a body! Looks like Abby and Martha’s sweet old lady act is a guise for some myurder! Which I know, just because it’s the most famous thing about the movie. However, Mortimer thinks the murderer is Teddy, and tells his sweet old aunts about the body, asking that he gets put into an asylum. But Abby notes that Teddy didn’t kill the man, and they already know about the body!

Which, yeah, surprises Mortimer, obviously.

Abby cheerfully admits that the man, Mr. Hoskins, was poisoned by a tainted glass of elderberry wine, and that they did so on purpose, hiding the body before the Reverend came for a visit. The whole thing isn’t a big deal; it’s just Abby and Martha’s little secret!

After they leave, and brush off the whole thing as easy as needlepoint or macramé as a hobby, Mortimer, is completely broken by the whole affair, and is partially convinced that he’s dreaming. All the while, Elaine’s trying to get Mortimer to come over and speak with her father. But Mortimer can’t exactly forget about this whole silly murder thing, and goes to confront his aunts about it. He learns that Teddy’s digging not a lock, but a grave in the cellar. As he’s done with 10 other bodies. Or maybe it’s 11 others?

After picking up a phone call from Elaine, then hanging up abruptly (and understandably), Mortimer finds out how this whole thing started. See, the two have a “Renters Wanted” sign in their front lawn, and the neighborhood thinks that it’s there so the two sweet old ladies can offer help to anyone in need, even though they aren’t actually renting to anyone. In reality...well, they do it for another reason.

See, an older gentleman stopped by a bit ago, and he had a heart attack right there in the living room. After seeing how peaceful he looked, the two decided to bring in other lonely old men and bring in the same kind of peace. And from there...well, yeah, you get the general idea. They’ve been poisoning them with arsenic, strychnine, and cyanide mixed in with elderberry wine. Apparently, Martha’s got the mixture just right so that it tastes delicious. With all this explained, they offer Mortimer a sip of wine. Which he’s understandably nervous about.

But with all of that done, Elaine comes over to check in on him. But he’s not able to tell her anything, which greatly (and understandably) confuses her. He basically kicks her out (which enrages her, once again understandably), and calls a judge with the intent to frame the whole affair on Teddy, who’s always been.unstable. Which, for the record, is not even SLIGHTLY going to solve the problem.

But as he’s on the phone, a man named Gibbs (Edward McWade) comes in to rent an apartment. He’s all alone in the world, with nobody to care for him. And of course, this leads to the women trying to poison him with the wine. It’s a funny yet tense moment as he stops just short of drinking the wine, distracted by Mortimer’s freakout over the phone. But Mortimer gets off the phone JUST in time to scare Gibbs away and stop him from drinking the wine. And it is...VERY funny, goddamn.

As Mortimer tries to tell the aunts exactly what’s wrong with what they’re doing, the phone rings. It’s a call from Witherspoon (Edward Everett Horton), who runs an asylum that Mortimer wants Teddy committed into. However, they don’t quite have room for him, as they have too many Theodore Roosevelts at present. However, they do need more Napoleon Bonapartes. I love this goddamn movie.

Still, Witherspoon agrees to take him in despite that, and Mortimer head out to get the paperwork done. However, he asks his aunts to not do anything until he gets back, and he also proises that he’ll attend the “services” for their latest victim. He leaves, and kinda steals a cabbie’s car in the process (I love this movie, I’m telling you), and Abby and Martha start shutting things down for the night. However, as they do, they get a mysterious knock on the door. They pretend not to be home...only for a man with an ominous scar to enter the room regardless.

Let’s pause here, shall we? See you in Part 2!

[blakelywintersfield]

As a victim of gun violence myself, I will be keeping my guns, thanks. Fear mongering? Maybe a little bit the fact is politicians absolutely “hell yes I want to take your AR15, your AK47”. They’ve said it often and loudly that they would like you to be disarmed. If you feel no one in your home is mentally stable enough for a gun, great, but you have zero right to tell others they should do the same.

1. If you're a victim of gun violence then the NRA gives absolutely NO fucks about you. You're not a victim of gun violence in their eyes, you're a victim of a criminal who happened to have a gun. Calling it "gun violence" is liberal propaganda to blame the gun, instead of the person. The gun didn't create the violence, the person did. That's their shitbrained logic and that's how they would respond to you if you told them (without disclosing if you're a gun owner or not) "I was a victim of gun violence." Because just like your dumb ass, they're not responsible gun owners, they're reactionary gun owners, and if you're reactionary as opposed to rational, you shouldn't have dangerous weapons, and your "you can't tell me what to do" 5-year-old attitude towards that would not hold up in a myriad of other scenarios. By your logic, suspending the driver's license of an elderly individual with dementia is unconstitutional. Not allowing someone with chronic seizures to drive is unconstitutional. Not allowing people to sell food without meeting safety and sanitation standards is unconstitutional. "You can't tell me what to do 'cause muh freedumb" isn't a fucking part of the constitution, you're just a chronic nationalist boot deep-throater whose mommy told him that the world owed him everything.

2. Where did I say guns should be taken away from you, or anyone else in my tags. Where? Here, I'll post the fucking screenshot of it and you can highlight it:

Please show me where I said "people should have their guns taken away" you reactionary cowardly fuck. I'll wait.

3. Politicians stating "no one needs a stockpile of AK47s" is not synonymous with "we want to take your guns". Gun buy-back programs that are VOLUNTARY are not the same as threatening to "take your guns". What benefit would you, as one person, gain from owning 5 semi-automatic weapons in the argument of "self-defense"? Are you going to wield one in each hand, one with each foot, and one with the mouth you can't seem to fucking shut? Do you think any of these weapons would protect you against government militia (which is what the second amendment is FOR, for one, and which the NRA does NOT condone if it's conservative sanctioned militia takeover) breaking into your property with a force of 10 people in bulletproof gear and military-grade weapons that could probably blow your fucking empty head off your body in one shot? Or do you like owning all of these shiny scary-looking toys for intimidation, thinking it'll protect you from future violence, like a fucking Halloween house made to scare away children? If that's your reasoning, then you definitely need therapy because that's textbook maladaptive coping with trauma -- I'd know because I have my own array of self-defense weapons that I got in response to my traumatic event, including a knife that could fatally gut an adult man with one stab. That's not a reasonable response to trauma!! But at least I can admit it! Your pisswad ass on the other hand can't, and views anyone saying "the NRA is a shit organization that doesn't support responsible gun ownership or the responsibility of gun owners and their actions, and is essentially a domestic terrorist grooming organization" as an attack on you as an individual, because you can't stomach the idea that maybe, just fucking maybe, you may be on that list of people who shouldn't have a gun because you're too mentally fucked up to be trusted with something like that, like people who are chronically suicidal (in other words, the MAJORITY OF GUN RELATED DEATHS), people with psychotic tendencies that can lead to hurting themselves or others (not because people with psychosis are "scary evil people", but because those moments of psychosis literally keep a person from making rational observations and decisions, and these individuals are already advised to have possible harmful tools locked up or just not in the house for their own safety), people like incels that believe if their entitlement is denied that they have the right to murder, etc. Honestly, you do sound like someone who shouldn't have guns, because your unstable ass probably read up to the second tag and skimmed the rest in a blind rage before sending an ask two days after I made that post, and seemed to conveniently miss the end:

What's your reasoning for the NRA keeping silent about responsible black gun owners being gunned down by police because the cops know they're legally registered gun owners (Jason Washington, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, whom the NRA defended being murdered by police while pulled over for a traffic violation, in his car with his wife and CHILD, and verbally informed the cop like a responsible gun owner that he had a conceal and carry permit, and was reaching for his wallet in plain view of his family and the fucking pig)? What's your reasoning behind them callously dismissing police violence against black people who are unarmed or have a history of supporting gun control (Botham Jean, Clementa Pinckney, fucking JAMES SHAW JR., WHO STOPPED A MASS SHOOTING WHILE UNARMED HIMSELF), as though that makes it their fault they were murdered, injured, or otherwise victimized? What's your reasoning behind them only piping up about "muh guns" whenever politicians say "there's a gun problem" after the 29th public shooting that month, but not tackling the issue of gun control disproportionately impacting people of color while letting crazy little white kids run loose with a multitude of firearms? What's your reasoning behind them siding with idiot fascist Trump's temper tantrum over the NFL's protests on police violence -- something they, once again, consistently respond to with "they should've been armed" if the black person wasn't, and give complete fucking radio static to if the black person was armed (even if legally armed)? They're so against gun control, but never seem to care when it affects black and brown people -- only when Jack Incelson, age 16, who posts on 4chan about how he wants to cut women's heads off and fuck their dead bodies, is at risk of not being allowed to keep his AR15. If people of color are killed while armed, it's justified because "they had a gun"; if people of color are killed while unarmed, it's their fault because "they should've had a gun" -- this is something the NRA is notorious for, because they don't give a flying fuck about people who should have the right to arm themselves.

4. On that point: I fully support the Socialist Rifle Association, even as someone who does not want to own guns -- because, as stated in the post you're shitting your diaper over -- I support organizations that vouch for responsible gun owners. The SRA holds irresponsible gun owners accountable. They actually support people's right to bear arms to defend themselves against tyrannical government forces. They are active in disaster aid, in environmental defense, in protecting people of color. I do not like guns but I 100% support the SRA, because they fight for people who do need to arm themselves to have that right, and I support that sentiment. I believe people of color should be able to arm themselves. I believe queer people should be able to arm themselves. I believe poor people should be able to arm themselves. But the NRA doesn't actively fight for any of those groups' rights -- the SRA does.

But you know what the SRA doesn't do? Send out unsolicited letters begging lower-middle-class white people for money so they can "fight the gun-hating liberals" from "taking away our guns n freedumb" and offering "i <3 guns" bumper stickers and shit in return. They don't view any political party as their friend because they know that Republicans and Democrats alike do not actually want you to be able to defend yourself against the government. They don't send fear-mongering letters full of hyperbolic bullshit to scare people into thinking that Biden or Obama or whatever Democrat is in the office is going to break into your house with police, beat your wife and children, and steal your guns while cackling maniacally over you as you sob "why mister president? why would you do this to your loyal and patriotic citizens?" The SRA opposes gun control laws that unfairly target demographics that are at the highest risk of police violence. The NRA does not, and, in fact, has a very heavily documented history of siding with conservatism, including making statements about things that don't even involve guns -- stating that American men are being turned into "second-rate women", outcried banning anti-queer discrimination and compared the ban to slavery, made a call to imprison people protesting against Trump's Cabinet picks, called the Women's March anti-American. These are all recent you shithead, so you must be purposely ignoring all of this to feel justified in defending this domestic terrorist organization, or you're probably a self-victimizing white man who can't handle being told no. Or maybe both. I don't know and I don't fucking care.

Don't fucking message me again. Unfollow me if you were previously following me and haven't already. Get some fucking therapy instead of crawling through strangers' blogs trying to find a reason to justify your irrational anger at them. And while you're at it, do me a huge favor, you cowardly fucking cunt: go to your nearest sex shop, buy 5 gallons of lube, pour them over your guns, and shove each and every one of them, fully loaded, up your ass. That way you can keep a close eye on them since your head is obviously already lodged up there.

Alternatively, you can eat shit and die.

[galaxyofmyown]

could u do a fic where reader is scared that hotch is cheating on them and hotch learns that its bc their past partners had cheated?

anon, i think i may scream. not because of your request (it is lovely and original and i like it). but i think my brain is bye-bye GONE. this took me like four days to write for literally no reason. so i’m writing this note to apologize in advance for errors or literally just bad writing. brain-machine say no. but PLEASE! feel free to send another request and i promise i will craft it as the gods crafted man (well, i’ll try). AHHHHHH. i hope you enjoy anyways!! :))))))

NOTE: I FINALLY MADE IT GENDER-NEUTRAL THOUGH AHAHAHA

aaron hotchner x reader - i know not

“Hey, baby,” Hotch says over the phone. It’s almost midnight and you’re alone in your bed once again.

“Hey, Aaron. How’s the case going?” You ask. You’re curled up under your clean sheets, freshly showered and in your favorite sleep clothes. But for some reason, you don’t feel comfortable at all.

“It’s… coming along. I should be home in a day or two.” He says. He sounds genuinely tired, and you trust this man with all of you, or at least you try to. Sometimes, though, you can’t help but get paranoid, the darker memories creeping in, clouding your vision.

“Okay. I love you.” You say softly.

“I love you more. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand.”

“You are extraordinary, (Y/N).”

“Ditto, Agent. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Love you.” He says again, easing your worry.

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

You plug in your phone and set it on your bedside table. Your room is lit only by one small lamp, and you stare at your ceiling. Your mind wanders even though you did not give it permission to do that. Usually, Hotch asks you to watch Jack part-time when he’s on a case, but in the last couple instances he assured you that Jessica could take care of him. It was probably nothing, but you couldn’t help but jump to a worst-case scenario. Were you getting cheated on again? Or was he about to break up with you?

No. Bad (Y/N). Stop.

But he was always so annoyingly vague about his cases. What if, and we’re just spitballing here, what if he isn’t even on a case when he says he is? What if he finishes the case, and rather than going home to you, he goes to some other person’s house? 

You sit up in bed, suddenly wide awake. You know you’re being ridiculous, but you can’t help it. Aaron is a great guy. He loves you. He wouldn’t even cheat if he didn’t love you. He wouldn’t do that to anyone. You’re reaching for your phone before you can convince yourself not too.

“Hello?”

Just hearing Hotch’s voice makes you feel better.

“Hi. Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you.” You say.

“Are you sure? Is something wrong?” He asks, and his concern makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.

“No, everything’s fine. Sorry again. Goodnight.” You hang up before he can probe more.

You sigh and walk to the kitchen to get a snack. You don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep tonight.

---

You wake up at 7:30 the next morning for work, your eyelids drooping and feet dragging. You make coffee in your biggest travel mug before heading out. Your day at the publishing house is slow and you think it’s a miracle it ends at all. You check your phone as you’re leaving the building and you see a text from Hotch.

Agent: Hey (Y/N). I’ll be home tonight around 8. Want to come over? Jack will be home and I know he misses you as much as I do.

You smile like an idiot and quickly respond that you’ll be there on the dot. You’re walking to your parking space when a familiar silver sedan passes you.

“I know not.” You say, your suspicions confirmed by the familiar license plate. You rush to your car before you start crying in the middle of the parking lot.

Why else would he lie to you and pretend he wasn’t back yet? Was he going to his place to meet someone right now? You start your car and pull out of the lot before you lose your nerve. You don’t know what you’ll say, but you have to confront him. You had your suspicions in your last relationship, but you ignored them. The only good that did was give you four more months of ignorant bliss before you realized you were being cheated on yet again.

You’re shaking by the time you pull up to his apartment building. You climb the stairs with the nervous anticipation you used to get as a kid when you had to get a shot. You have a moment's pause before you reach the door, your knock strong despite the weakness in your knees.

Hotch is still in his suit when he opens the door, but his tie is loose and his jacket is wrinkled.

“(Y/N). Wh-what are you doing here?” He asks, looking more confused than anything else.

“What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be back for hours. What am I supposed to think when you drive by me in your car when you’re meant to be four states over?”

Hotch still hasn’t opened the door enough for you to see inside, which all but confirms your worst fears.

“(Y/N), I can explain what-”

“Hotch,” You can’t call him Aaron right now, “Just tell me. Is there someone else?” You say, voice breaking. Aaron’s face can’t hide his emotions. His eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head up at you in that condescending way you hate.

“(Y/N). No. Why would you think that?” He says, but his voice isn’t reassuring. If anything, it’s angry.

“Can you blame me for feeling a little insecure, Hotch? You’ve been home three days out of the last two weeks. You don’t want me watching Jack in your apartment all of a sudden. You lie about whether or not you’re home? Is this the first time you came home without telling me, or is this something you’ve been doing. Do you laugh when I believe you?” You’re lashing out and you know it, but you can’t help the way your voice rises as you let out all of your pent-up feelings.

Hotch is silent, staring intently at your face. You know his profiling look, and this isn’t it. This is his boyfriend look. He’s concerned, but guarded, analyzing his best move. The amazing thing about Hotch, the thing you love about Hotch, is that he’s always determining the best move that will make you happy.

After a moment of tense quiet, he sighs in resignation and opens the door all the way.

His apartment is a mess. Clothes everywhere, dishes stacked in and around his sink, overflowing trash bags strewn about.

“Oh,” you say, tilting your head and willing yourself not to pass judgment, “hmm.”

Hotch looks sheepish.

“I, I’ve been having a tough couple of weeks. That’s why I lied about when I was getting back. I wanted some time to clean.” He says.

“You could’ve just told me.” You point out, and he nods.

“I know, I know, and I should have. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. It’s just the thought of you thinking of me as weak…” He trails off, and your anger dissipates. 

“Aaron, baby,” You say, taking his face in your hands, “I love you. I know who you are. You’re the strongest man I know. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me for help. I would do anything for you.” You whisper your last statement, and yet it still carries the most force. Hotch leans into your touch.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). I love you,” He pauses, at a loss for words, “I love you.”

You huff out a laugh.

“You already said that.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

You hug him, and he melts into your arms. 

“I could’ve watched Jack at my place, you know. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You say, leading him over to the couch (and clearing off some clothes as you do so.). He rests his head in your lap.

“I didn’t want to ask that of you. You work a full-time job, and I know you didn’t sign up for being his babysitter-”

“Hey. No. When I started seeing you Jack became just as important part of my life as you are. I would drop everything for both of you.”

You notice Hotch’s eyes are getting red, and you stroke your hand through his hair.

“I adore you, (Y/N). You are absolutely amazing. And sometimes the thought of you leaving is so scary that I shut down.” He says.

“I get it. I just want you to know I’m all in.”

“I know you are. I am too.”

Both of you just sit there for a moment, basking in one another’s company.

“Speaking of scared,” you begin to say, and Hotch sits up to look at you, “I’m sorry I accused you of… you know, cheating.” You’re ashamed. 

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry I was rude to you. I don’t blame you for not trusting me with how I’ve been acting lately.” He says, and you sigh in relief.

“Thank you. I’ve just had bad experiences, so it’s hard sometimes to not get worried.”

“Bad experiences? What do you mean?” Hotch asks, protective mode activated. 

“My last three boyfriends all cheated on me.” You say quietly. Hotch stands up and paces back and forth past the coffee table a few times.

“Aaron?” You ask carefully. He stops when he hears your voice and the tenseness of his shoulders seems to melt away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, returning to the couch, “how could anyone do that to you?” He asks, taking your hands in his. You don’t know how to respond, so he kisses your forehead.

“Listen to me,” he murmurs, “I would never, ever, in a million years do anything to hurt you like that. Never. You are my world.” He says. You nod, fighting back tears.

“I love you so much.” You say because it’s never enough.

“I love you more.” He responds. You shake your head. Impossible.

“Get up, then.” You say, hopping off the couch.

“Why?” He asks but gets up anyway.

“We’re cleaning. Both of us. And then we’re picking Jack up. Both of us. And then we’re making dinner. Both of us. Got it?”

Hotch smiles and picks up a trash bag.

“Got it.”

[tipsydipsydo]

The members have a crush on you [their indecent fantasies🔞]

Hey my Dears💜

Here we go again into the second round of the “When the Members have a crush on you!��-Scenario(s)!

It’s not necessary but still useful to read the first part of the scenario to understand some “connections” (it’s kinda a little storyline for each invidual member I’d say? 😂😅)

The link to the first scenario could be found here! [It’s gender neutral so everyone can read it!]

This part about their dirty thoughts is in general the same scenario just customized for the specific gender of the reader 🤗💕 (quick reminder: this here is for male readers!😂💗)

Links:

The scenario for the female reader could be found here!

My Imagines!

My Masterlist!

「© tipsydipsydo」

These following headcanons are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

the reason why Jin is suddenly so shy to you is…

…that with his increasing romantic feelings for you, others… certain feelings and thoughts enters his mind too

thoughts that makes him feel drawn to you and not just for hugs and cuddles …

…these indecent thoughts that you shouldn’t have about a very close friend.

how your body could look like under your tight-fitting clothes

what kind of boxer briefs covers your perfectly round ass

Jin hardly dares to rememver how you look when just a towel is wrapped loosely around hips

otherwise he would have a problem

…in his crotch.

Cooking with you is such a challenge for him sometimes

when he gives you a spoonful of dessert so you can taste if it needs a little more sugar

and you lead it between your soft lips, lick very carefully all of the dessert from the spoon, rolling your eyes full of pleasure and moaning how delicious his dessert is.

Jin has a problem down there in no time.

And not a small one…

how can you let such sinful things come over your lips and look so innocent?!

this unintented sensual moan haunts him, doesn’t wants to get out of his head.

he is terribly embarrassed when he mastubates for the first time with the thoughts of you and your husky voice

he had never cum so quickly

you drive him completely crazy

the more dirty fantasies he has about you, the more shy he’ll be around you.

Jin’s Adam’s apple starts bobbing nervously as you bend down to tie your shoes while sticking your butt out towards him

he would love it to put his big hands on your ass and grabbing it firmly 

Since then, he has been troubled by fantasies of taking you from behind and ruining you, placing his hands on your soft, perfectly round buttcheeks and pulling them apart to see how well his cock goes deep into you, fills you up and elicits the sexiest moans from your lips

you do all of this to him without even having the slightest idea what is behind this (from you) so-called “sweet” shyness.

Yoongi

there are reasons why Yoongi advoid you and locks himself in his room/studio

he wants to choke off every opportunity where he could see you in those damn T-Shirts with such a (in his opinion way too often) deep V-Neck

seeing the soft definition of your chest and your collarbone is too much for him

oh how he hates that you act like you don’t know what kind of effect such an outfit has on him! (Although you really have no idea) sometimes he thinks that you only do this to annoy him and to play with his feelings

he knows that he has no chance with you anyway and that he doesn’t deserves to touch such a handsome guy

nevertheless, even with the best discipline, he cannot prevent himself from certain fantasies they’re caused by unfulfilled desires arising in his head

he wants to be the one who can sucks you off so well that you’ll push his head even further between your thighs so that your cock can even deeper into his throat

he wants to be the one who can fingers you so good that you’ll cum without even touching your cock and let the whole house know that it’s Yoongi who let you see spheres where you have never been before 

he wants to be the one who can stretch your ass so damn well and in all the perfect places, who can make you think of nothing but him and his thick, perfect cock and never want to feel another person in yourself again

what frustrates him most is, that he can’t even work normally.

realize that his newly produced tracks are mostly that kind of songs that he wants to be played in the background when he fucks you. 

they’re slower than usual, with a seductive melody and his rap is deep and husky, making countless promises to you of what things he wants to do with you.

the fantasy that absolutely kills him is when you would kneel between his thighs in his studio and spoil his thick cock with your sinful lips, take him completely into your mouth and let his tip slide into your throat while looking at him with big, innocent eyes

when he’s about to come, he would pull away from your lips and want to cum on your bare chest

…deep down in his mind he wants to make a mess out of you and ruin you with his filthy desires.

Namjoon

When Namjoon realizes that in addition to his romantic feelings for you he also develops certain thoughts and fantasies, he tries his best to avoid them

he is afraid to sexualize you in his fantasies

you are not just a sexual object for him,only to satisfy his desires, you are so damn much more for him!

he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with his, sometimes not so unobtrusive looks at you

but how can he resist when you are so damn handsome and everything in him feels attracted to you

he learns from Taehyung that you’ve read some books about BDSM and Bondage

you wanted to understand the hype surrounding of “Fifty Shades of Grey”

you said that while writing style and characters weren’t your cup of tea, you found the topic of the book itself really interesting

he asked Taehyung countless of questions

if you told him other things about whether and what your preferences were

but he was silent, smirked at his leader and chuckled

“You have to ask him yourself. I’m his best friend, I can’t take advantage of his trust and reveal his secrets, who do you think I am, hyung?!”

since then the abstinence of mastubation was over, countless fantasies about various kinds of play sessions with you offered him the necessary satisfaction of his needs

when you pick him up from somewhere and he sits in the car just with you, that’s pure horror for Joonie

because he doesn’t have a driver’s license himself and doesn’t trust himself to get it too, he thinks it’s pretty attractive that you can handle all of this stuff

especially your focused, serious and concentrated view at the road and how your hands are holding the steering wheel has somehow an attractive effect on him

instinctively he would like to slide his hand over your thigh to your crotch

rubbing teasingly over your clothed cock, let a bulge grow

before he opens your pants, takes your hard cock out and gives you a blowjob while driving

turn your serious gaze into a lustful one, let your fingers grip the steering wheel even more tightly out of pure ectasy

while you have still full control and your focus on the road

he doesn’t understand himself, he doesn’t even want to think about developing something like a “car-driving” kink

maybe it is your charisma and self-confidence that turns him on

gradually he loses faith in himself thanks to you.

Hoseok

Since he knows how your current partner is treating you and they seem to give a shit about your feelings and needs in this relationship he wants to be the one who gives you the attention you deserve  

you saved money for your partner’s birthday present for months and he only tooks a quick look at it when you give it to them

you mumble in frustration that you should’ve rather spend the money on yourself, preferably on new sex toys

Hobi didn’t believe his ears at first and looked up at you in confusion, asked what you mean by that

“We only have sex when they feels like it. When I try to seduce them or even ask them if we could have sex, then they makes a dismissive gesture and is pissed off that I should go out of the direction of the TV… It’s been like this for a few months since I started shopping online for sex toys out of frustration. Sometimes I really wonder if I’m addicted to sex and I’m a satyriasis… it’s normal to want sex two or three times in a week?”

To see you so insecure about your own needs for closeness and just normal sexual activities, so that you start wondering whether you are morbidly addicted, breaks Hobi’s heart

he tells you that you are not weird at all and your sexual needs are completely normal and that your partner didn’t treat you as you deserve

but unfortunately he couldn’t say more, it would have been very strange between you if he had said how he would treat you if he were your partner

the following days and weeks Hobi are plagued with indecent fantasies about you, his best friend

what would he have given only to know what toys you have and how you use them on yourself

and generally, all of these things he could do to you to give you the best orgasms in the world and make you feel like a greek god

he would love to be the servant for your unpleasured desires

to be the one who gives you the feeling of being Eros in a human personification.

Jimin

it happend accidentally and unintented that you’ve become a part of Jimin’s erotic fantasies

he took care of his needs and jack off like usual to his favourite fantasy that always makes him cum

but not this time

it seems like it wouldn’t work this day, he thought it could be stress or pressure that he just couldn’t cum, no matter how long he’s going to jack off and teasing the most sensitive parts of his cock

he was about to give up when you jumps right into the fantasy

now it’s you who’s bouncing on his cock, rolling your hips in the most sensual ways

playing with your nipples, massaging over your chest while his hands are placed on your hips, gives your body more stability so Jimin can thrusts slow but unbelievable deep into you, hitting your prostate, let come the sexiests moans over lips

you have to support yourself on his muscular chest, whine about the different angle that makes you even more sensitive

whimper his name over and over again like a Mantra

babbling dirty things that comes into your sex-focused mind

“Oh my god, oh my- Jimin, oh god, your cock feels so good in my ass, w-when you going to fuck me like that I’ll be able to cum without touching my cock, oh fuck! Please, keep fucking me like that, that feels so good, I’ve never get fucked so damn good, I love your cock!”

Just the thought, those words could come over your lips makes him cum so hard and so much, that his cum is spread all over his bare, sweaty stomach and chest

he needs some minutes to calm down and to catch his breath again

then he realised what he has done to you in his mind

he literally fucked the shit out of you and wrecked you in this fantasy and he came so freaking fast only because thinking that you’re the one riding his cock

at this point he already knew it’s not going to change anymore

how the heck should he behave around you, when you’re coming over tonight?!

Taehyung

like I said in my first post, everything started with innocent… well not so innocent dreams

at first he didn’t even remember the content of his dreams

but with every time it happens, he remember more and more of his fantasies

one particular is, when you’re tied down to the headboard under him, all whiny and squirming while he fucks you with slow deep thrusts, hitting that sweet spot in your body everytime

then he takes the hitachi massager next to you in his hand and press it onto your cock, watching you in pure fascination when you’re about to reach your high within seconds

but then taking the vibrator away and hold his cock still in your ass until you calmed down again

and then the game starts from the beginning…

…his boxer briefs and pyjama pants are wet and stained in the mornings, sometimes he came so much in his dreams that even the bed sheets are ruined

the boys are confused why Tae starts changing his sheets so often

but when they asked he just spat back at them that’s not their business

but after some time he came to Jimin and ask him for advice how to deal with this situation and that he feels helpless and ashamed

that he has such thoughts about his best friend

and then in dreams where he can’t control these fantasies and his body too

but Jimin didn’t laugh, he listened patiently and carefully to Taehyung

then he tried to calm him down, that these things just happen and he can’t do anything against it

Jiminie blush a little bit and then reveal his own story when it comes to indecent thoughts about a person you like (a little bit more than usual)

“I hope it doesn’t sounds weird to you… but maybe you can stop the wet dreams a little bit when you… when you take care of your fantasies properly before you’re going to sleep, you know?”

“You think, I should jack off to my best friend regulary?”

“Well, we all see two miles away that you developed a crush on Y/N. That’s why we’re all not surprised that you wash your sheets so excessively , we’re not stupid and knew pretty fast it’s because of unpleasant thoughts at night.”

“Wait… all of you knows about it?!”

“Yep, Tae. We all know it, but it’s completely fine. We all dealed with it while puberty and when someone has a crush on somebody… well, let’s say, everyone here experienced that problem too. By the way, Hobi gave me this tip to jerk off before going to bed. Maybe it’ll works for you too?”

Jungkook

he’s the youngest of them, that’s why I think he’d be still the one who is the most badly affected by flirtatious or playful alluring outfits, dirty jokes etc.

just an example: you stay over the night in the dorm, coming in the morning into the kitchen to get a glass of water for yourself. You think everything is fine until you hear someone chokes badly behind you… poor Kookie chokes on his cornflakes because you’re just standing infront of him topless and (in his opinion) super low hanging pair of sweats…

compared to the others he could get erotic thoughts pretty fast without wanting it

like really.

he’s suffering and don’t know at first how to deal with it

thinks having such thoughts about an other person is super rude and try to avoid them

feels like a Deja-Vu with his puberty where sexual hormones sexualize literally everything

and that’s a sensitive spot for him, he’s sick being always the “baby of the group” (he knows he’ll always be anyway bc he’s the youngest)

he wants to be seen finally as a mature grown up man, that’s also why he works out so much

there are two fantasies that makes him instantly hard:

1. Imagine you grinding moaning and whining against his crotch and whenever he buck this hips up, the tip of your cock grinds right over it. Your hands wandering over his defined abs and pecks, try to find a spot to support yourself, seeing your eyes full of lust and desperation, seeing this hunger for a man like him in your eyes…

that keeps him always going when he works out and push his limits

2. this Scenario in his head kills him always: He’s fucking you right into the mattress, finding all these good spots in you to tease the shit out of you… plus his stamina is legendary, you’ll end sobbing and crying that you can’t cum anymore, that everything of your cock, nipples and ass is oversensitive… the cherry on top would be, when you try to keep hold of all this pleasure and grip his flexing biceps tightly as if you’re drowning and groaning his name…

…what ultimately change into “Daddy”

…that would gives him such an Ego-Boost, that he’s your Daddy, that he’s your man and not only “a cute boy” anymore!

[thatringboy]

The Way A Soul Lives (Part Two) - TWST

Requested by @yoruzumy0 that I continue This Story, so I hope you all enjoy! Angst is not something I’m very good at, but I got a lot of positive feedback from part one and it made me want to keep trying!

Word Count: 1,633

Warnings: Cursing, magic, blood mention, Character death, mentioned character death and the angst associated with that, implied relationships between characters

Silver sat on the stone pavement with his head in his hands while Lilia hugged him tight, his eyes widened and unmoving from shock. Malleus burst out of the castle with his large staff in hand and reached his companions. The prince stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the body on the ground and his eyes immediately went up to the stars, searching and scanning like the universe held the answers.

And for once, it did. Malleus had been looking at the wings of the dragon constellation for his fallen friend, but instead found the small star sitting peacefully next to his grandmother in the heavens, now protecting the Draconia family for the rest of eternity.

Despite the morbid situation, the comfort of knowing where Sebek’s final resting place was brought a small smile to his face. After all, what was death to the immortal?

~~~

Yuu had expected a mirror to gate them back to Night Raven College, not a singular Black Carriage to fit themself, Grim, Jack, Cater and Vil all into. Needless to say, they did not all fit.

Yuu wondered if this was some sort of punishment from Crowley for leaving and questioned if it was related to the feeling of dread still welling up inside of them. Magic had transported all of their luggage back to the school, but couldn’t transport them individually as well? The nerve that headmaster had!

Yuu would have complained if they could be heard over the complaining of their companions.

“You are sitting on my coat!”

“Well, you’re on my tail!”

“Guys move, I need a selfie to show my followers that I’m stuck here with you!”

“The Great Grim demands that you stop squishing me against the window!”

Yuu rolled their eyes and moved closer to the window to get away from Cater’s obsessive photo taking. They watched the Pyroxene countryside roll past the window and was taken aback about how snow could still be seen under evergreen trees despite it currently being the middle of Spring.

But the trip was not without faults. Every bump in the road jostled the Prefect and made them wonder if the bad feeling in their gut was about to become everyone else’s problem too. Thankfully, the Carriage passed through a gateway and was soon outside the front gates of Night Raven College.

The sight of the grand castle never ceased to take Yuu’s breath away and the view got their friends to momentarily stop complaining. Cater maneuvered himself in the carriage to snap a selfie that had a blurred image of Jack in the background, which got the sweet silence to break into arguing again.

When the carriage finally stopped and the doors opened, Yuu fell out and crashed into someone. They apologized profusely and felt someone stroke their head.

“Non non, forgive me for not being more careful.” Rook smiled down at them and helped them regain their balance.

Yuu stepped away from the third year and watched as he extended a hand to help Vil out of the carriage. The motion was graceful and Yuu wondered how Vil still looked so magnificent despite the commute. Jack ended up falling out of the carriage with Cater and Grim and the sight reminded Yuu of a clown car.

As their friends got to their feet, Yuu noticed that Rook was already in his uniform. “When did you get here, Rook-Senpai?”

The blonde spun around and tipped his hat. “I simply mirrored back to campus an hour ago.”

“Of course you did.” Yuu frowned and held out an arm for Grim to climb up on.

~~~

For someone with a slight case of narcolepsy, Silver didn’t sleep a minute. If anything, he purposefully made himself busy around the castle.

The image kept replaying in his mind as he cleaned Malleus’ room from the damage caused by the demon. The blood soaked stones, Lilia’s screams and the sound of Sebek slumping to the ground. It replayed in real time, slow motion and sped up. The scene was a bad record set on loop and every time he closed his eyes to try to silence the pounding of his head, the images became more pronounced and more intense.

It got so bad that he had to stop and sit down on Malleus’ half-burnt bed to keep himself from hyperventilating. He knew that Fae usually moved on quickly from death and didn’t typically mourn for long, but Sebek’s death was only a few hours ago and his caretakers had made themselves sparse almost immediately.

The sun coming up through the broken glass of the window made little refracted rainbows dance around the destroyed room. Silver saw the pleasant sight and thought of how the universe mocked him. Of course the sunrise after loosing his comrade would be beautiful, what else would it be? Sebek wasn’t a friend of his by any means - if anything they were bitter rivals - but the thought of going back to Night Raven College without the loud cabbage man made his heart sink further. Silver felt tears welling up in his eyes and moved to wipe them away.

“Glad to see you’re still as human as ever.” Malleus stood in the doorway with an exhausted face. Silver’s first instinct would have been to jump to attention, but his body didn’t move. Malleus came and sat next to him, glancing around the room as the sun came up more.

“Your father has been in the library all night trying to find the origin of that beast. I thought I told you to get some sleep, you need it more than us.”

Silver remained silent. What was he to say? He had left Sebek alone to defend the prince and took too long in fetching Lilia. The image of Sebek’s face before he plummeted out the window still burned in his mind. It was a face of determination and fierce loyalty only the Zigvolt boy could pull off. Malleus reached around the human and hugged him close. “Don’t over think this, none of this is remotely your fault.”

“But I could have--”

“We all could have done something differently. I could have stayed and fought instead of follow protocol. None of that matters now.” Malleus’ voice was barely audible. “What matters is how we move on.”

Silver pulled away. “Move on?! That was only five hours ago and you want to move on?!”

Malleus looked hurt. “No I--”

“I know that life isn’t such a big deal to fairies, but can we at least take a few days to mourn him?” he got up on his feet. “Sebek was by far your most loyal guard and you want to move on already? No, we will not stop mourning and we will not stop searching for who did this until I plunge my sword into their chest! I--”

Malleus was up and hugged Silver close. “I don’t want you to stop, I want you to slow down before you hurt yourself in the process. Revenge is a fickle thing; you think you want it, but what you really need is healing. And where does revenge stop? None of it will fill the hole inside of you.”

The soft voice of the prince made Silver tear up again as he hugged Malleus back.

“Alright, I’ll slow down, but only because you asked me to.”

“That is all I want of you now.”

~~~

Yuu braced themself for the running tackle from Epel and Ace and collapsed to the ground under their short friends, to the entertainment of Grim who just floated above the first years.

“Epel, Ace, I can’t breathe!” Yuu laughed.

“If you can talk, you can breathe.” Epel got up and helped Yuu to their feet. “So, how was the break?”

Yuu’s eyes widened and they began to retell their adventures in Pyroxene, the bad feeling in their gut subsiding for now. When they mentioned spending the week with the Howls, Epel’s mouth dropped open.

“So, what are they like? Jack’s parents?”

Ace elbowed the purple haired boy in the ribs. “Why do you need to know, lover boy?”

Epel turned red and crossed his arms. “Just curious, that’s all.”

Ace and Yuu snickered when Jack joined the small group and Epel flushed even more red. The five - including Grim - made their way inside the school and to the mirror hall where the other members of Heartslabyul that Yuu considered friends loitered. Deuce noticed his friend group and bowed to the dorm heads before making his way over.

“Ace, you shouldn’t just run off like that!”

Ace brushed him off. “Pssh, I was collecting the trash!”

“Trash? What trash?”

Yuu facepalmed and rolled their eyes. More mirrors lit up as more students returned from their breaks. A group from Scarabia chatted away about a new dance they learned, some Savanaclaw boys compared their fitness regimes from the break and Yuu swore they saw a few Ignihyde students slinging around brand new motorcycle licenses. Everyone was so happy to see each other and in that moment, Yuu forgot all about their sick feeling.

That is, until Jack tapped their shoulder and cleared his throat. “So, did any of you see the stars last night? I swore that a new one got added to the Draconia line.”

Deuce crossed his arms and nodded. “Yeah, I saw that.”

Yuu’s sick feeling hit them like a truck and they frowned. “Do you think it was someone we knew?”

Epel shook his head. “The chances of that are too slim, probably some distant cousin of someone we vaguely know.”

His certainty made Yuu feel better. The group continued to talk about something as Ortho approached them with a happy expression. He made the first years shriek when he removed his metal face plate and showed them his real mouth underneath.

Yuu’s attention was immediately drawn to a mirror in the corner of the room. They excused themself from the group and walked over to where Malleus, Silver and Lilia had appeared.

They looked dreadful. Lilia didn’t even bother to use his legs to lazily float around and his uniform was unkept, Silver’s eyes and cheeks were red from crying and Malleus’ had a distant look to him, like he wasn’t even there and his body was functioning on its own. Yuu smiled warmly at them. “Nice to see you three, how was your break?”

They clearly didn’t expect anyone to approach them as the three of them seemed to snap out of a trance. Lilia excused himself quickly and disappeared. Meanwhile, Silver remained glued to Malleus side. The prince looked down at Yuu with a sad smile. “It was... eventful.”

“I, uh, I saw the stars last night....” Yuu trailed off, seeing Silver’s face perk up sorrowfully.

“You did?” Malleus placed a hand on their shoulder. Yuu nodded.

“Then you know that tragedy has struck us.” Silver stood up straight.

Yuu looked around, noticing the unusual absence of the second guard. “Where’s Sebek?”

The single tear that rolled down Malleus’ face made Yuu want to throw up. They looked to Silver, but their eyes didn’t meet.

“You can’t be serious...” They whispered. Malleus suddenly hugged Yuu tightly and the Ramshackle student could hear his heart thumping loudly.

Yuu hugged back, feeling hot tears streak down their own cheeks. “W-What happened?!“

Silver opened his mouth to answer, but his voice became lost in his throat. By this time, Yuu’s other friends had noticed their disappearance and cautiously approached the Diasomnia students. Epel overcame his fear of the large Fae hugging his friend and spoke up. “Hey, where’s Sebek? Isn’t he glued to your hip or something?”

Silver glared at Epel, making him shrink away. Malleus let go and looked at the Pomfiore student with an apologetic face. “I am sorry, little one.”

Epel’s voice fell quiet and his eyes widened. “What?”

Yuu turned to their friends and saw the wave of realization hit them all at once. They wanted to curl up into a ball and cry and scream and wake up from this terrible dream, but all Yuu managed to do was look down at the ground. Their only comfort was the hand still on their shoulder.

~~~

“No... no, no, no no no no no...” Ace grabbed his forehead in disbelief.

“By the time I arrived on scene, both Sebek and the monster were already dead.” Silver crossed his arms and looked at his feet. Deuce cursed under his breath and kicked the ground.

“We’re still looking into how the demon could have been created and--”

“That’s not good enough!” Ace snapped at Silver. “You’ve got a killer out there and you’ve spent the first few hours looking at old books?!”

“Ace!” Jack looked appalled by his behaviour. Silver smiled weakly. “That’s what I said, too, but then I realized that we get no work done running on revenge as fuel.”

“You know, I’m getting tired of this philosophical bullshit.” Ace looked Malleus up and down. “You’re all powerful, get a tracking spell up and slap it on part of the monster’s magic that was left behind from the fight!”

Deuce punched him in the arm. “Please, just shut up!”

Malleus thought for a second. “You may be onto something....”

Ortho, who had stood in stunned silence the whole time, touched his chin. “Maybe you’re looking at the puzzle all wrong. When does anyone try to solve a maze puzzle by starting at the front? (Deuce, put your hand down, this isn’t the time) We find who made the demon and work our way backwards, like solving a riddle!”

“That’s how we deal with infestations at home. You find one bug and trace it back to the hive to eliminate them all.” Jack looked around.

Silver and Malleus stood there taken aback. They had spent every last possible minute until they needed to return to the campus pouring over books and contacting mages all over Twisted Wonderland and not one of them had thought of that.

The guard thought the idea over in his head and raised his eyebrows. “That would take several powerful users of magic to cast, but it could be done.”

Epel’s eyes perked up. “Well, we’ve got some of the most powerful wizards at this school, so let’s do it! For Sebek!”

Malleus let another tear roll down his cheek. Sebek had some truly amazing friends despite what the late guard would say about them. He chuckled, getting the attention of the first years. “Alright then, I’ll see what I can do.”

Jack scoffed. “Seriously? This isn’t all on you. C’mon guys, let’s see if we can find anything in the library! He wouldn’t want us to sit by and let Malleus-Senpai do all the work!”

“Yeah!” Deuce, Epel and Ortho agreed. Silver led the first years to the library with newfound energy, but Yuu and Ace hung back with Malleus.

The prefect looked between the young men. “You know, Sebek wouldn’t want anything but this. He’d be proud of their enthusiasm.”

Ace’s hands turned to tightly wrapped fists. “Yeah... it just hurts. A lot. He hasn’t even been gone a day and I already miss him.”

Malleus sighed. “That’s completely understandable. I suppose Faes don’t hold as much sentimental value over the death of our kin since we know we’ll see them again, but even so my heart aches with yours.”

Ace laughed, some tears spilling out of his eyes. “What did I just say about the philosophical crap?”

Malleus chuckled a bit. “I need to go to the headmaster’s office to inform him of the events of last night. Would you two care to join me?”

Ace and Yuu looked at one another. The prefect slipped their arm in the prince’s. “You need a new bodyguard anyways, so why not?”

The three left the mirror hall together, earning some shocked expressions from their classmates, but not really caring. Now wasn’t time for mourning over their lost friend, now was the time to take action and build each other up. Yuu was sure that the news of Sebek’s passing would be a shock to the student body, but deep down they knew that Sebek was still with them. Even if his spirit was in the stars.

After all, in the minds and hearts of others is the way a soul lives.

~~~

Cold...

I feel cold...

I can’t move...

I don’t remember anything...

What am I trying to remember?

His eyes opened in total darkness. He spun his head around frantically, trying to get a bearing of his surroundings, but discovered that he was simply floating in some sort of abyss.

“Well, you certainly slept like the dead.” A deep voice chuckled in his mind. His throat was dry and no sound came when he opened his mouth. Clammy hands seemed to take hold of his mind and hold his head still, looking forward at nothing.

“I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did, young man. It’s not every day someone of your age has the skills that you do.” The voice continued. “Seeing that you were not the original target, but still worth the effort we put into the operation, I’m sure we can make use of you here.”

“After all, service is in your nature. Isn’t it, Mr. Zigvolt?”

[doubleleoenergy]

ii; BLUE BAYOU SERIES

Oh that boy of mine, by my side. The silver moon and the evening tide.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: TFAWS!Sam Wilson x fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and y/n go on their first date.

Word Count: 2326

Author’s Notes: I’m so excited for this series, please let me know any feedback you have!

Sam has been on many missions in his life, but none COMPARE to the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach as he’s deciding what to wear. Why was it even this hard? It was just a date, he had been on plenty of dates in his life before his tours in the Air Force. Okay, maybe it WAS his first date since then, but did that mean the Wilson charm and composure was just gone, right?

He had helped at the docks that day, carrying in the new catch and helping take inventory of the stock they had to sell for the weekend, but he still couldn’t quite get y/n out of his mind. Sarah had been busy cooking and dropping off another large order for a family reunion downtown, so he hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her about y/n or the DATE.

Sam had just dried off from the shower, grabbing a pair of clean Calvin Klein boxers and pulling them over his hips. Fingers fumbled with his phone, hitting the Facetime button next to Sarah’s contact and furrowing his brows as he waited for her to answer.

“Cass! AJ! No running PLEASE, come and set the table for dinner.” Sarah’s voice was yelling out past the phone and out of Sam’s vision, but her face popped up on the screen as she stood in the kitchen. “Hey Sam, got that date tonight huh?” Her face turns back towards the screen, a wide smile spreading across her lips.

“Yes, in an hour actually, which is why I called. It’s weird to wear a dress shirt, RIGHT?” He had a few options laid out on the bed, looking them over and scratching the back of his neck. “Sam, it’s summer in Louisiana, do YOU think it’s a good idea to wear a dress shirt?”

“Right...definitely don’t want to be sweating.” Not that he WASN’T already. “Let me show you what I have on the bed then, you know what women like.” Sarah chuckles. “Of course I do, I am a woman.” Sam flips the video screen so Sarah can look over the choices, catching a glimpse of AJ & Cass moving behind his sister to grab the food off the stove.

Sarah takes a moment, looking at the choices he’s laid out and thinking about the atmosphere at Thompson’s Kitchen. It wasn’t SUPER fancy, but also not just a bar and grill. “If I were you I’d go with the navy t-shirt, dark denim jeans, those black sneakers and...your brown suede jacket.” Sam pulls the pieces together as she’s talking, nodding his head in agreement. That was his favorite jacket, maybe it would bring him good luck.

“Mom, your dinner’s getting cold!” AJ calls out from the kitchen table, piling some green beans onto his plate. “Alright, Sam I gotta go. Just remember to relax, be yourself, and DON’T make this messy, I don’t want to have to stop going to the boxing gym because of you.” Sam chuckles, rolling his eyes at her words. As if he would mess up THAT bad. 

“Alright, I promise. Boys, be good for your mom tonight! Love you, Sis.” He waits for her to say it back before hanging up his phone, dropping it to the bed. He’s got the outfit all picked, now he just has to get himself ready and head OUT.

Y/N just finished curling the last strand of her hair, shaking out the loose curls and spraying them just slightly with hairspray. She is honestly EXCITED for this date, having not been out on a date since she was completing her Master’s. And besides, it didn’t hurt to get out of her apartment and find another spot in town for her to dine at during the week.

The ride the day before with Sarah was fine, both of them laughing at how Sam had TRIED to be smooth by asking her out. Sarah assured her that her brother was not some fuckboy she’d find if she had decided to download Tinder as she had almost done a week prior before Sarah had advised her against it.

She didn’t need time to pick out an outfit, most of her clothes from the move were work appropriate, only having a few outfits she could wear out on the town. She REALLY needed to go shopping if she was going to be spending more time out at night and on the weekends. Her days consisted of work and nights consisted of lying in bed watching reruns of New Girl or reading one of the many books she had bought at the bookstore down the street from her apartment. Y/N LOVED going out, but she hadn’t really gotten close to anyone but Sarah so far.

Her fingers smoothed out the lavender slip dress against her figure, the hem coming just above her knee. She quickly pulled on a pair of white Keds, fumbling through the jewelry on the dresser until you pulled out a pair of simple gold hoops to compliment her skin tone. She didn’t know how long they’d be out, and wearing anything heeled would not feel good after having worn her Steve Madden wedges at work all day.

“Perfect.” She smiles at herself in the mirror, swiping on a bit of chapstick before grabbing her purse and keys to walk out the front door.

Sam arrives at Thompson’s Kitchen and peaks inside, not seeing y/n anywhere at the bar or tables. He decides to grab them a table near the wall, taking off his jacket and setting it on the back of his chair. A waitress comes over to the table, a middle aged woman with the name tag “Elizabeth” on the top right hand of her maroon polo. “Welcome to Thompson’s Kitchen.” Her eyes look up from her notepad, smiling as she recognizes him.

“Well if it isn’t Captain America himself! What can I getcha darlin’?” He chuckles nervously, still not used to hearing himself called that in public. “I’m actually waiting on someone…” His voice trails off when he feels a burst of air from the door open, y/n emerging and scanning the room for her date. She looks PERFECT, the lavender dress draped beautifully against her body, the neckline sweeping low, but not low enough to be too revealing.

“And it looks like she’s just come in. Y/N!” He calls out, his voice making her turn and smile as she moved over to the table he was at. She gestured politely to the waitress, taking the seat across from him and setting her bag next to her feet on the floor.

She looks even more STUNNING up close, and he takes note of the Keds on her feet, glad that she didn’t wear heels. He definitely felt that they looked natural together, not over or underdressed for the occasion.

“Good Evening Miss.” The waitress pulled two menus from under her arm, setting them down on the table. “Could I get ya’ll started with something to drink?”

Y/N’s eyes scan over the list of drinks on the back of the menu, looking back up to the waitress. “I’ll get a bottle of Coors Light.” Sam smiles, he was a beer guy himself. 

“I’ll take a Miller Lite.” Sam watches as the waitress leaves, scanning over the menu again before looking back up to y/n. “I took you as more of a WINE girl.”

Y/N scrunches her nose, shaking her head. “Definitely NOT, wine tastes like nail polish remover to me. I can only really handle beer and some mixed drinks.” Her head tilts to the side, taking in the scent of his cologne. It was nice, a very woodsy smell with a HINT of orange. “What’s your go to liquor?”

Sam has already decided what he wants, having come to the restaurant quite a bit whenever he was in town. “Scotch, you?” He raises an eyebrow up at her. “Jack Daniels, preferably the honey kind, definitely nothing with cinnamon.” A love for whiskey and beer, already TWO things they had in common.

The waitress returns with their drinks, pulling out her notepad once again. “What’ll it be tonight?”

“I’ll have the crawfish étouffée, thank you.” Sam hands her the menu as she finishes jotting down his order, turning to y/n. “I’ll get your shrimp po’boy with a side of sweet potato fries please.” She shuts her menu and hands it to her, sitting up straighter in her seat.

The waitress walks off and the table goes silent briefly, both taking sips of their beer. Sam smiles softly, he doesn’t feel NERVOUS, just wondering what to ask her about first.

“So you said you just moved here, I’m assuming from Colorado?” He’s referring to her license plate that he noticed the day prior.

“Yeah, I used to live in Boulder but I got offered a great position at Northwood University after I graduated.” Her smile is so genuine with excitement, and Sam can’t help but smile wider at her. “Northwood University is great, quite the commute for you though. Are you a professor?” It was at least a forty minute drive from his place.

She takes another swig from her beer, nodding her head. “Definitely, but I didn’t want to live in the city, that would be way too much for me. BESIDES, a former colleague of mine used to live in this area and they highly recommended it to me.” Nails tap against the table as she hears a Fleetwood Mac song drifting out of the speakers overhead. “And yes, I’m a sociology professor, I just graduated with my PhD in sociology last Fall.” She’s very proud of herself and what she’s accomplished, having gone farther in school than anyone in her family.

Sam is taken aback, she was very impressive and clearly EXTREMELY intelligent. Brains and beauty. “Congratulations, I can tell you have a passion for what you do.” She nods, eyes meeting his brown hues. “Enough about me though, Sarah told me you used to be in the Air Force, said you were in two tours in Afghanistan?”

The waitress makes it back to their table, setting the food in front of them and asking if they need anything else. After they decline Sam takes a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “Yes I did.”

“What made you get out?” He stops his motions, taking a deep breath. “Actually, I lost my friend, RILEY, during a mission. Decided it was time to get out and...now I’m here.”

Y/N takes a bite of her po’boy, wiping at her mouth as the sauce spreads against the corner of her lip. “I’m sorry...I can imagine how hard that must’ve been.” She pauses, looking down at her plate, chewing softly on the inside of her cheek. “I actually lost my dad during that war...he was stationed with the military in Afghanistan after 9/11. About six months in him and his crew were headed to back to the BASE when their vehicle hit an IED, none of them survived...he served in the Kosova War before that.” She grabs a fry off her plate, chewing on it before looking back up at him.

Sam’s face grows solemn. “I’m sorry…” He feels connected to her through their shared stories, feeling a sense of relief that someone could UNDERSTAND him on a level that most couldn’t.

“It’s fine, I was only seven so I don’t remember it much…” She lied, she DID remember it. She remembered the call her mom got that day, how her mother fell to the floor, the scream that left her mouth embedded in her brain. Y/N remembered how she held her little sister tight to her chest, distracting her by singing Part of Your World, trying to keep her from crying, though she barely knew what was going on.

The conversation shifts as they finish their meals, talking about less serious topics; music they like, movies they’ve recently seen, places they’ve traveled. Y/N is nursing her second beer when the check arrives, immediately picking it up.

“No, y/n, give that to me.” Sam tries to pull it from her grasp but she moves it out of his way. “I’ll only offer to split it.” She HATED when others paid for anything, her mother always taught her to be independent and take care of HERSELF.

Sam can tell she won’t budge, handing her some cash from his wallet. “Fine...but at least let me also pay the tip. And I WILL pay next time.” He didn’t mean to let it slip, but y/n wasn’t bothered at all by the thought of a next time.

After paying, they excuse themselves from the table. Sam opens the door to the restaurant, letting y/n step under his arm to walk through before him.

“That was FUN.” She announced, tilting her head to look up at him. It’s not that late, but the moon was out, shining over the water as the waves crashed gently against the rocks near the shore.

“It was…” He hesitates, hand coming up to itch at the back of his neck. “I don’t suppose you’re up for some dessert?” He can SMELL her perfume when the wind blows, a sweet fragrance that tickles his nose.

Y/N smiles, she’s not ready to leave him just yet either. This was the most fun she’s EVER had on a date, and the easiest the conversation has ever flowed with someone. He was DIFFERENT. Her stomach did a somersault at that thought, she hadn’t let herself get this close to anyone in awhile. “I’m down for anything.”

Sam steps closer, hesitating before taking his hand in hers. It feels SMALL in his own, but fits perfectly in his grip. And just like that he’s not as nervous, she hadn’t pulled her hand away either, which was a good sign.

“Well then, I’ll lead the way.”

[thatesqcrush]

Dress Blues

Nick Amaro x Reader. Request from @itsjustmyfantasyroom:Nick and you are partners, you are both back in uniform for an undercover sting, as much as you love him in uniform, he fights to keep his hands off you from the moment he saw you until the sting is over and he takes you home... 

AN: Well, your wish is my command... sort of. The muse got away from me and became obsessed with the idea of a BJ in the squad car. This fits the femdom card in my kink bingo.

WC: 1488

CW: Fem-dom(ination); blow job. This is deffo NSFW.

--

 He was late. It was your anniversary. Dinner and drinks, then dancing. That was the plan. Nick loved to take you dancing. But with two littles and each having your own hectic work schedules, it was hard to find the time. Plans were made weeks in advance.

 Then, he was called in on a case. Occupational hazard. The squad came onto the scene and Liv relieved him, knowing it was a big night.

 Still. He was late.

 Nick sped through Manhattan. He tried to dial you a few times to explain the situation, but you didn’t answer. His stomach churned at the idea of you being upset with him. As he sat at the red light in front of him, he debated eating it and using his police beacon.

 “Come on, change already.” He gritted. After what seemed like eons, the light did change and he continued speeding. He was about five blocks from home when the lights of a police car from behind caused him to slow his tracks.

 Annoyed, Nick pulled over on the very quiet, dark industrialized street. He reached for his badge, ready to start his spiel that he was on the job, blah, blah, emergency, blah, blah so he could get going.

 The streetlight above blew, cloaking the street more in darkness. Nick looked in the driver’s sideview mirror but couldn’t make out clearly the officer’s face. The wind blew, kicking up some fallen leaves.

 The officer knocked on the window. Nick lowered the window. “Officer, I am on the job – I am going to reach for my badge…”

 “License and registration please.”

 Nick froze. He knew that voice. On a professional and intimate level.

 It was you.

 “Y/N? What’s going on? I thought you and I…”

 “That’s Officer Y/L/N to you.” You replied sternly. “License and registration. Don’t make me ask again.”

 Nick looked at you in disbelief and you winked. “Okay, okay. I’ll play.” He reached over and grabbed his documents and handed them over to you.

You nodded and tapped them against the hood of his car. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 Nick nodded and watched as you walked away, your hips swaying as you did so. Nick felt his pants tighten. He always loved when you wore your dress blues. Something about how that uniform was just so sexy on you. Whenever you wore it, he had such a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

 You came back and flashed your flashlight in his face. Nick raised his arm to block the light.

 “May I ask where you were going in such a rush?” You leaned down once more, and Nick realized you had undone a few buttons of your uniform. He had a good view of the tops of your breasts and he shifted uncomfortably.

 “It’s… personal.” Nick explained. “I got called to a scene and I had to secure the scene until my captain showed up.”

 “Mmmm… I should have you arrested for reckless driving detective.” You replied. You bit your bottom lip and Nick could see your lips were painted bright red, which he knew that you knew, was his favorite.

 “I can’t be late Officer Y/L/N – I have to go home. I am late as it is.” Nick pleaded with you. “Lets just let this slide.”

 “Let this slide? Oh, no, no.” You replied. You opened the car door. “That’s it – out of the car.”

 Nick smirked. “Look, do we need to do all that? Maybe if I…”

 “Are you trying to bribe an officer? I didn’t take you for a dirty cop.” You spat angrily as you turned Nick around. You gave him a standard pat down but as you stood, you pressed yourself against him, pushing your breasts into his back. Nick groaned and he slowly turned around.

 You traced a finger down the front of your uniform and ran your eyes up and down on Nick. You reached below and grabbed him from the front of his pants, squeezing gently. “Listen Amaro… you are mine now. You’re about to get taught a lesson.”

 Nick huffed, inwardly groaning at your grip on him. You leaned up, millimeters from his face. “Oooh, already hard?! You like when I give you orders, don’t you? Don’t try to hide it.”

 Nick took a deep breath and didn’t reply. You squeezed him through his pants harder. “Answer me.”

 “Yes.” Nick hissed, his eyes fluttering closed. He swallowed hard and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

 You looked around. “In my car.” You barked, turning around.

 “I should call my union rep.” Nick replied defiantly. You spun on your feet, your pony tail whipping. “That’s it – you are under arrest.”

 Nick backed up, his hands in the air and you slammed him against the car and you cuffed him. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

 --

 The sounds of saliva and moans from Nick filled the back of the squad car as you bobbed on his cock. Nick was desperate to be out of the cuffs, to touch you, to guide you. You licked the deep throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft and flicked your tongue where the shaft met the head.

 “Oh fuck, Y/N…” Nick groaned, his hips jerking in response.

 You pulled off roughly. “That’s Officer Y/L/N.” You stroked his cock, enjoying how Nick was falling apart. “You better not nut in my mouth without permission. You understand me?”

 Nick nodded. “Yes, Officer Y/L/N.”

 You spat on his cock before taking him back in your mouth. You worked your tongue against him, sucking on him, setting up a rhythm. You bobbed your head down further and further, relaxing your throat to take him all the way. Nick let out a grunt above you.

You scraped your nails gently on his thighs and you felt him twitch in your mouth. You pulled off with a wet pop. “You want to cum? I feel it. How badly do you want it?”

 “Yes.” Nick hissed. “Please.”

 You spat on your hand again and resumed jacking him. “Well guess what? Not yet.” You laughed mockingly and then again took him in your mouth. You repeated your actions over and over. At one point, you looked up at Nick, your red-stained lips stretched around his cock and made eye contact. Nick shuddered. “I am c-c-close.”

 You pulled off yet again and Nick whimpered. “Don’t you dare – I tell you when you can come.” You lowered your mouth even more, and gently you took his balls in your mouth, pushing them to the side with your tug. Nick groaned in frustration, desperate to come. You licked from the seam of his sack and then licked all the way to the top of the head of his cock. You rose fully, and turned Nick’s face to you and kissed him hard. Your lips tangled each others, desperately seeking more. You tugged and nibbled on his bottom lip before releasing him.

 “You want to come?” Nick nodded, panting hard. “Please… please Officer Y/L/N.”

 “Oh… since you asked so nicely and you have done so well. You can come in my mouth.”

 You took his weeping cock into your mouth once more. Nick tensed and then let out a deep guttural groan as he came hard in your mouth. You swallowed his entire release, using your hand to stroke and squeeze every last drop. You kept sucking until he softened and then you released him from your mouth.

 “Jesus fuck, Y/N.” Nick sighed. You beamed as you rose and sat next to Nick. You buttoned up the top of your uniform and pressed a chaste kiss on the bottom of his chin.

 “Do you mind?” Nick wiggled his shoulders and you laughed. “Right. Now where did I put those keys?” You wondered out loud, teasing.

 “Y/N.” Nick warned.

 You jangled the key in front of him and then moved to undo the cuffs. Nick let out another groan he rubbed his sore wrists. “Just like old times. You know… those blues… you look good in them. They’re snug.”

 You cocked your brow and Nick felt the need to clarify. “In the right places.”

 “You’re lucky you’re my husband and that I love you.”

 Nick tucked himself in and followed you out of the car. As you moved to the driver’s side, Nick pulled you into a passionate kiss. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

 “Now… lets finish this at home.” Nick purred, nibbling at your ear.

 “You still have that beacon in your car?” Nick nodded. You smiled. “Race ya.”

 END.

--

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