#like naw he did that to prove some god right not for them

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Cute As A Button (Supernatural One-Shot)

Dean Winchester x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ / requests are open

Summary: smut prompt based on the word "button."

Fic type: smut

SPN: @wereallbrokenangels (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Look atcha, gorgeous. Cute as a button, you are," Dean says, giving your clit a little tap as his eyes flicked up to meet with your own from between your legs.

You broke the connection, the intimacy making you just a touch flushed. Dean tutted, those ever-smirking lips of his curling up at the sides. Warm hands trailed up your thighs, thumbs hooking under your ass so he can spread your cunt wide for his viewing pleasure.

"Yep," Dean groaned, practically salivating at the sight of you. "Criminal. Absolutely criminal to have a pussy this pretty."

Your cheeks flushed darker, your thighs fighting the urge to close around his hands. You know if you did that that he'd end up punishing you by not letting you cum or slapping your pussy condescendingly.

"You gonna arrest me, officer?" You asked, trailing your fingers down your ribs sensually. If Dean's answering tortured moan was anything to go by, he wasn't opposed to that idea.

"Don't tempt me," he replied, chewing on the corner of his lip as filthy thoughts and images plagued his mind. "My little criminal. God, that's hot."

"You're not so bad yourself, you know," you replied cheekily, trying to shift some of the attention from yourself. Dean gave you a wink and at the same time brushed his tongue over your clit. You fought the urge to grind up against his face.

"Naw, darlin', are you getting sweet on me, huh?" He asked, eyes raking down your form with so much heat they practically scorched your flesh with liquid sin from collarbone to naval. One charmed smile and you were a puddle on the floor.

"You idiot, I've always been sweet on you," you replied breathily as his right hand slid from your outer thighs down to play at your labia. The teasing touches kept you hovering on that edge, knowing there would be pleasure if he only moved his fingers a little ways above or a little ways left. "Stop teasing me, Dean."

"Me? Sorry sweetheart, never-" he said, though he also sunk two fingers inside you and curved them just a little to hook right into that spot that made you turn to mush for him, so, technically you still got what you wanted.

"Y-yeah," you replied, muscles in your thighs twitching. "Sounds about right. My mistake."

Dean snorted with laughter, curling his fingers to rub against your insides. You squirmed a little which earned you another tut and the sight of Dean crawling just a little further up so he could plant his lips over your clit and lave his tongue over it.

Your head dropped back onto the pillows behind you, legs widening to fit as much of Dean's lithe body between them as you could. There really was nothing quite like the feel of someone's body heat rubbing up against you while they worshipped at the altar of your body.

Dean's fingers started to move in tandem with his tongue, slowly at first, building in pace to create a heady fog of ecstasy that expanded from your pelvis and slowly started creeping up your spine, causing it to bow and bend as the pleasure rolled over you.

"O-oh, fuck, Dean- right there-" you mumbled incoherently as his fingers massaged into one of those spots that made you lose your mind when it was stimulated just right.

Then he was sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking back and forth over it as his fingers shot like pistons inside your cunt. You hadn't thought your back could bow any further, and yet here you were, afraid that your spine might snap if he prays at your altar any harder.

The onslaught of stimulation proves too much, and all it takes is for those molten eyes to make contact with yours once and you're coming undone for him.

Mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm rips through your body, you reach blindly for something to hold onto- coming to rest on Dean's hair. He groans against your cunt but doesn't let up, and your legs start to quiver uncontrollably.

Your voice returns and your breathless, silent scream turns into a wild groan. You leave him where he is for just another few moments, lapping up the last few rolls of pleasure that you can handle before you use your grip on his hair to pull his mouth off your clit.

"Hey," he protested somewhat breathlessly, lips puffy and chin soaked. "I wasn't done."

His fingers slow, letting you ride out the pleasure and slowly come to a stop. You can feel your cunt twitching around his fingers, spasming as your body releases those endorphins that make you feel so goddamn good after a hard fuck.

"Yeah, I think you were," you panted, loosening your grip on his hair. Dean withdrew his fingers, twisting them so he could see your slick painting them.

Wiping them on his boxers, he crawled up your body. He sunk down on top you, the warmth of his skin spreading across your own. Dean leaned up, muscled arms caging you in.

"Yeah," he said, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead. "Definitely cute as a button."

[that-guy-sleepy-miles]

Hi. Just found out about the Hello Giant au and now I’m wondering about the lore. Like, why was Wùkōng imprisoned like he was? Did LBD manage this during Havoc in Heaven? Or was this for another incident? And on that note, what’s LBD like after that? Did she go down a similar route to canon, or is she living it up thanks to Wukong not being around to stop her and is just kinda waiting thanks to minor setbacks and stuff?

I've not had time to really really think this through, but I made an entire plot just for you! Here it is, with flavor doodles:

(please read this I worked really hard...)

If I'm to decide right now, I think they simply... didn't interact during the journey.

(or perhaps they did, but she wasn't imprisoned. or maybe she was, but for shorter! who goddamn knows!)

Wukong went back to his mountain after putting DBK under the mountain, and some people who have been doing a lot of planning noticed.

And got an idea.

^ LBD having an idea

LBD and Not Mayor fight Wukong, Not Mayor barely survives probably, LBD is a motherfucker and uses the baby monkeys against Wukong.

She gets him to submit to keep them safe from her. His plan was going to be to lure her into a false sense of security by pretending to submit and then y'know go get her ass

but LBD has been thinking BIG THOUGHTS so she's like "naw, get got, I'm taking your eyesight, dumbass!"

and so Wukong is like "aw what the fuck that's not fair" and she's like "TOUGH"

BAM MONKEY LOCK DOWN

now, LBD isn't stupid dumb, right? she knows Heaven could've stopped her but didn't because they don't like this fuckin' monkey, so she has a plan.

She's gonna make a perfect kingdom. Just to start, yeah? Perfect, perfect kingdom.

Sooner or later she'll kill god, but first things first, prove she's good enough for her destiny by making a perfect kingdom

and any time anything threatens her kingdom, she slaps them with big murder monkey

Fast foward 500 years, MK is being MK and stumbles across Red Son and PIF roleplaying the pilot

"Aight bet" says MK, and decides to do some improv

Everything follows the exact same plot of the pilot up until MK meets Wukong.

Instead of being led into an ancient cave and being told he's so monkey cool, MK finds a spooky abandoned mountain, walks into a spooky abandoned cave, and finds a spooky giant monkey. And then, like, plot proper starts yayyy, but this is just the lore.

*wipes brow* WOW THAT'S A BIG ONE UHHH HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THE DOODLES! Here's all of them in one place, because I drew them all on the same canvas very obviously.

[letarasstuff]

When everybody turns into an oracle

Summary: Nothing puts more pressure on you than other people teling you your grade will be perfect, because behind that stands so much more than a number on a sheet of paper. Same goes for Spencer's daughter.

Warnings: School, grades, angst (there is fluff and a badass moment), fear of failure/disappointing someone

Wordcount: 1.5k

✨Masterlist✨ __________________________________

“I really pooped this quiz. What about you, (Y/N)?” Before the teenager is able to answer, another classmate comes up from behind the two. “She’ll get a 100, like always.”

“I-I don’t know. Question two and three really got me there, I’m just happy to pass it.” The little group of people around her groans.

“You always say that.” “And get a perfect score”, the first one adds, “Just stop to make us look bad, because we really do have to worry about passing this class. What do you have to worry about? Getting straight A’s like that. I really want your problems.”

(Y/N) just keeps it quiet. She stopped a long time ago trying to defend herself. ‘I am on my way to the BAU’, she shoots a text to her father and exits the school building. Today she doesn’t take the train. There are too many noises and all she wants is some peace.

The words of her classmates echoes through her head. Yes, she always has a good score and she intends to keep it up. She is just doing her best, right? Her problems have to be still valid, don’t they?

“Ahh, Wonder Baby. I thought you forgot about us and decided you are too cool to hang out with us”, Derek calls out after her as soon as he spots his godchild. “Nah, Uncle Derek. Nobody can be too cool to hang out with you. I just hadn’t had much time because of school work. But there are only two weeks left before spring break starts and the only thing I have to do now is waiting for my results.”

“Right, Spencer told us you are stressing yourself out about those. Your last quiz was today, wasn’t it? The one you dread the most apparently?” Emily joins the conversation. “Uh, I did. But don’t get your hopes up too high, I really don’t have a clue what I did there. The grade can range between passed to 100.”

“Naw, Smartypants, you say that every time. What are you afraid of? Telling us you are real smart? Don’t be humble, we work with your father. We know how to handle geniuses.” Derek isn’t exactly helping her with that. (Y/N) just turns red and tries to change the subject. “Uh, no. Another thing: Where is Dad?”

“Spencer went to pick some reports from the M.E. in D.C. who helped us on the last case. He should be back in half an hour. But Penelope wants to see you, something about trying new vegan cookies she baked last night”, JJ informs (Y/N) as she passes the group to drop some files off.

For the remainder of the day the teenager hides out in the lair, blocking any human reaction out with her earphones. She just can’t handle any more insensitive stuff like earlier. Later her father picks her up to go home together.

“So, Emily told me you didn’t do well on your test today? Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, choosing his words carefully as he prepares dinner with his daughter sitting at the kitchen table and watching him. The doctor knows the pressure created by asking his daughter about school related topics.

“I don’t know. Everyone keeps telling me I’ll get a perfect score and I think it’s admirable that all of them turn out to be able to look into the future. How do they know better than me what I get?”

It’s months of pent up stress and anxiety finally making its way up to the surface. (Y/N) tries to fight the tears down. “I really don’t understand this. I get asked how I did, I tell them I don’t feel good about the test and then they talk over me every single time. And when I say I don’t know it, I say it to not get anybody’s hope up high. I don’t want to disappoint anybody.” Finally tears stream down the teenager’s cheeks.

“Oh Sweetheart”, Spencer makes his way over to her and engulfs his daughter in a hug. “Shhh, don’t cry. I know it’s incredibly difficult to live up to their expectations, but you don’t need to. You don’t need to impress them, because their opinion doesn’t matter. Neither your classmate’s, your teacher’s nor the team’s. Not even mine should be important to you. Also, it doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll always be so proud of you, words can’t even describe it. There is literally nothing you can disappoint me with. You pushed and still push through so much crap and still you don’t fail to amaze me. You can never fail to amaze me. You can fail any class and become a professional card counter, I’ll still be proud to be your father. Please don’t cry over something you shouldn’t care about.”

They remain like this for several minutes, grasping each other until (Y/N)’s tears eventually die down. “I just want to be something more than just the smart girl with the good grades. I don’t want to feel like a two dimensional side character in a show, only there to provide the main characters with knowledge. I don’t want to be Velma, River Song, Frozone or Domino from Deadpool 2. I don’t want to be overlooked like this anymore.”Finally talking about her deepest insecurities lets her feel like a weight is lifted off her shoulders.

“And you are so much more”, Spencer encounters, “Some people just choose to ignore it, because you are so much more than their small brain with a low capacity is able to comprehend. They just pick the trait they understand the easiest. But never stop being you. Stay loud, stay complicated and, if you want to stay, uncomfortable for them. The right people will take the time and effort to get to know the real you, not just a copy others think you are. I know, it takes a great amount of patience to wait for them, but it’s worth it in the end. You hear me?”

(Y/N) looks up at her father, a small smile forming on her face. He would walk to the end of the world if it means to see it. “I hear you, Dad. Thank you so much.”

This night the teenager doesn’t get a lot of sleep. There are many thoughts that want to be, well, thought through. Still she wakes up and goes to school with a new amount of confidence.

This sadly only lasts until her first period. The teacher, one who is typically known for grading student’s work pretty fast, gives back yesterday’s quizzes. A small tumoult ensues as everyone compares their scores with each other.

(Y/N)’s anxiety rises into the unmeasurable until her teacher puts down her worksheet without a word. Confused she looks at the B- sitting at the dotted line, where the grade is supposed to be.

Now, a B- isn’t bad or anything, but she spots several answers her teacher didn’t tick as right or wrong. He must have oversaw them. Deciding to ask him about it after class, she puts it away and focuses on the material he is teaching.

So there she is, waiting for other classmates asking their questions regarding the quiz until it’s her turn. Meanwhile her lab partner Masey comes up to the teenager. “And, how did you do?”

“Uh, I got a B- bu-” “Oh my god, I’m better than the class nerd. I’m better than The Brain. Casey, I got a higher score than (Y/N)! I think you, too! Wow, I didn’t know I’m that smart. But no worries, (Y/N). I can explain this unit to you later, so you can do better next time.” This is the final straw for her.

“Hold on a sec, Masey. I’ll get that A, because Mr Harries didn’t see some of my answers. And just for your information: I didn’t ask you about your grade last time, because I knew you would poop that one after trying to explain it to you for four times while I got another A. Like every single time until now. Stop trying to appear cleverer than you are, it doesn’t suit you as much as these pants don't, because they are at least two sizes too small.”

The line finally moves up and (Y/N) is able to show Mr Harries his mistakes. He apologizes profusely, admitting that he maybe was too tired to grade these last quizzes and rewrite the B- to an A.

With her head held high she walks past her classmates, a content smile on her face.

It may be a long road to accept that you can’t be perfect and your grades don’t have to be, but forget this for a second and appreciate the feeling you get proving someone wrong like this.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

[ganseybois]

a prompt for @fastfan who wanted more tommyalie domesticness with john the goat! i hope you enjoy! 

Each morning was the same for them, not because they were bored men, but because they appreciated the routine of their new boring life. Besides, even now with the quiet, and in bed next to Alfie, Tommy got up before him nearly every morning (and the very few times Alfie got up first, he was the one who took control of the routine) and prepared coffee and breakfast for Alfie. So when Alfie got up that morning and left his bedroom to see what was waiting for him, he frowned when he saw that there was nothing prepared for him.

He huffed, looking around the kitchen before he heard that fucking goat bleat from the living room, and a small chuckle sound. Cyril, who was waiting in the kitchen, got up slowly, walking a few inches over to Alfie, his tongue coming out.

Alfie leaned down to scratch him behind the ear. “What are them silly boys up to, eh?” He walked over to the living space (which was crowded, crowded with books) and stopped in his tracks when he saw Tommy on his knees, still wearing what he had slept in and smiling grandly at John. Alfie was so stunned by Tommy’s smile, as he often was, that for a moment he just stood there and watched as Tommy was grabbing John by his sides, trying to get him to roll over like a dog.

“Come on John,” Tommy’s voice was gentle, “come on boy, you can do it.” He motioned with his fingers, as though John was meant to understand what it meant.

“Tommy,” Alfie’s voice boomed, surprising even Tommy. “what the fuck are you doing?”

Tommy smiled openly at him. “Good morning, my love.”

Alfie grabbed the blanket by the chair and wrapped it around his bare shoulders, before sitting down, Cyril sitting at his feet. He could no longer pretend that the words my love did not affect him. Tommy was so unafraid to be himself here, away from the city, away from having to pretend. Every day it seemed like he got closer and closer to the person he was before the war.

“So?” Alfie grumbled. “What the hell is this?”

“I’ve decided to prove you wrong Alfie.”

“A noble mission!”

Tommy grabbed John and held him in his arms, as though a grown man holding a year old goat was something completely normal. Alfie watched Tommy ran his hand back and forth where he could, John making happy, satisfied noises the whole time.

“Are you cold?”

“Only because I haven’t had my fucking coffee yet, have I?”

“Well, John required attention this morning.”

“And that’s more important than my coffee?”

“Shockingly, yes.”

“Well,” Alfie tightened the hold on his blanket. “it seems that I have decided to spend my life with the wrong fucking man! A man who chooses a goat over the man who fucked him every which way the night before, is not a man I want to know.”

“I’m not worried.” Tommy set John down, motioning with his fingers in a circle movement again, and then moving John himself. He kept on doing it. “You’re too happy with me to go find yourself someone new.”

“Naw mate, I’m just a really fucking good actor.”

“No, you’re not.” Tommy continued working the goat. Alfie wondered how in God’s name John the goat did not just fucking get up and leave, or at least try to kick Tommy in the face. If he was a goat, he might have done that if some man kept turning him over and over. But of fucking course, John was as in love with Tommy as Tommy was in love with him.

“You know,” Tommy said, patting John on the head when he almost looked like he was about to roll over himself. “you can always just make the coffee yourself.”

“Right Tommy listen, a man like me gets other people to do stuff for him, doesn’t he?”

“A man like you. What kind of man would that be?”

“Need I remind you that I’m a God?”

“No need for that Alfie, you said that enough last night.”

“Well, as a God it’s my job to speak the absolute truth, and one truth is this: Gods don’t make their own coffee.”

Tommy let out a barking laugh, looking over at Alfie, his eyes softening when he saw Alfie’s playful smile. “Just for that, I won’t be making you coffee tomorrow either.”

“All because of this fucking goat.”

“All because of this fucking goat.” Tommy said happily. He looked back down, and did the same circular motion with his fingers, moving to direct John, but his hands stopped midway when the fucking, bloody damn goat, was able to squat and roll over like a fucking dog. “Ha!” Tommy exclaimed, picking up John and standing up, kissing the goat on the head. He looked at Alfie in glorious triumph. “I fucking told you, you old bastard!”

“Are you calling me old?”

“Yes I am!” he walked over to Alfie and put John in his arms, his excitement so fucking contagious that Alfie couldn’t even pretend he was annoyed. He smiled back at Tommy. “As is your fucking dog. And I told you, I told you that it could be done, and I’ve fucking done it. Do you want to know why Alfie?”

“Mate, all this ranting is making you sound a little like me.”

“Because I am Thomas fucking Shelby.”

“Right you are.” Alfie pointed at him, before running his hand along John’s back, petting him tenderly. “The great gangster, the great King of Birmingham was able to tame a fucking goat. I’ve never been prouder Tommy, and I do mean that.”

“You can make fun of me all you want Alfie, but I proved you wrong, again, as I always do.”

“As you always do? What have you proved me fucking wrong on?”

“You told me this goat wouldn’t make it a week.” Tommy said, leaning over him now, his hands on the arms of the chair, kissing Alfie all over his face, and then the goat, and then back to Alfie’s face. It made him frown. “You told me big fucks small.” He imitated Alfie’s voice so badly.

“That, mate, sounds nothing fucking like me.”

Tommy ignored him. “And now look, the small have fucking survived Alfie. And, and, the small has not only survived, but also learned a trick!” He kissed Alfie hard on the lips, pulling back, eyes wild. “So, how do you like that Alfie?”

“Well I like that kiss really nice, but I can do with less talking about the fucking goat.”

Tommy grinned and kissed him again. “I’ll make you your fucking coffee now, you grumpy old man.”

“Call me that one more time darling and see what fucking happens to you.”

Tommy kissed him once more, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Come along Cyril, time to feed you too.”

Cyril got up slowly and followed Tommy, while John rested happily on Alfie’s lap. He looked up at Alfie, and Alfie stared back.

John bleated once.

Alfie frowned. “You ain’t so bad, I suppose.”

Then, as though John fucking understood him, he moved closer to Alfie and pressed his body against Alfie’s torso. It was a little uncomfortable with the horn, but not altogether unpleasant. In fact, Alfie had to admit—it was quite nice.

[itjazzbicch]

Lessons

Pairing:  Santana x Fem Reader

Summary: The reader is the Princess of Long Island, now the women's champion in AEW. She had always been cocky and confident, that doubling now that she is champion and when she crosses paths with the Inner Circle, she isn't afraid to speak her mind, but also triggers Santana, her attitude wanting to make him teach her a lesson and put her in her place...

Warnings:  SMUT!! (LIKE A LOT) (18+!!)

Requested by:  Anon (Whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count:  3209

Tag List: @demonqueen29​ @jessiebean00​ @new-zealand-chic​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @justamess44​ @thatpanpal​ @hungmanhorsecarriage​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​  @linziland13​ @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose​

I DO OWN THIS GIF

Just when we all thought the beef between the Inner Circle and the Pinnacle would die down, it didn't. Which became a nuisance for everyone.

I had just won the AEW women's championship at Double or Nothing. My match should have been the main event! Not all of these childish boys bickering.

Inner Circle had some screen time, celebrating their victory, but of course, MJF tried to ruin that and their little moment ran up part of my time, and little did they know, they made a big mistake because the time they took was mine.

Everyone was a bit confused whenever they heard my music playing, strutting in my red bottom heels and brand-new black, cocktail dress and that new, shiny title over my shoulder.

"Aye, cut my music," I demanded, smiling at all of the men in the ring, all of their eyes on me, "Don't get me wrong. Inner Circle versus Pinnacle. You have had your shining moments. Your stadium stampede match, not bad at all. Nowhere near as good as mine, but not bad."

I was laughing at all of them, they were clearly upset by my words and I wasn't even done yet, sighing:

"You all are talented, but this feud, oh god! It's more stale than Shida's run as women's champion, haha! You guys got to have your Lion King moment at Blood and Guts, you had your pathetic excuse for a stadium stampede match. Now, get the hell out of here."

They all were exchanging looks, in disbelief, but I snapped some sense into them, my inner bitch coming out when I cocked my hip, scoffing, "Did I stutter? The princess of Long Island is here and I am your women's champion. Show some respect, let the real star here shine, and get the hell out of my ring."

Finally, one of them did something, Wardlow sitting on the ropes for me so I could enter the ring.

"Nice to see one of you have manners," I groaned, but smiling at Wardlow, "Thanks, honey."

"Congrats on winning the title," MJF tried to smile at me, but I always saw through his fakeness, just rolling my eyes, taking the center of the ring with my microphone.

I was ready to have my moment, addressing my victory, but Inner Circle was still in the ring and it annoyed me quickly.

"You boys sure are stubborn," I murmured under my breath, but let them have a moment whenever Jericho stepped up to me, saying:

"The princess of Long Island, Y/N! Nice to see that you're an even bigger brat now that you are champion."

Any time someone called me a brat, it never bothered me. I just smiled, being sarcastic like usual when I smiled at Chris:

"Thank you for addressing me by my titles. I really appreciate it. Now Chris, you know what it's like to be a champion here in AEW. You sure had your moments and celebrations while you were the world champ. Let the princess enjoy hers. Now, go make yourself useful and get me a bottle of champagne backstage and not that disgusting thing you call the bubbly."

The crowd had mixed emotions about me, but one thing I did know was that they sure loved it whenever I was making rude comments to someone and embarrassing them. Again, I went to the middle of the ring, expecting them to leave, but I heard behind me:

"Naw, shorty needs to learn a lesson."

Quickly, I turned around to see Santana in front of Chris, clearly pissed off. I didn't back down at all; I was the one to take a step closer, smiling in Santana's face. Even though I was smiling, I was pissed off too.

When I lifted my microphone, my New Yorker accent began to came out, making sure there was plenty of attitude when I scoffed, "I need to learn a lesson?"

"Yeah, you do and I'll gladly put you in your place!" Santana yelled at me, taking Chris's microphone, "We fought like hell at Double or Nothing. We fought for something a lot more important than a title! We-"

"That's exactly your problem!" I yelled interrupting him, all of them listening when I continued, "Here's the thing about wrestling. It's about wrestling and winning championships! Everyone wants to make alliances, make 'families' and that leads to failure! I've been solo my whole career and you see, everywhere I go, I got boys drooling, girls wanting to be me, always being booked, and most importantly, winning titles!"

Santana had nothing to say just yet, but steaming with anger whenever I added:

"For example, other than Chris, when the hell did any of you win a title here in AEW?"

I left a moment of silence, waiting for an answer but there wasn't any.

"Oof," I cringed, "That's what I thought. You guys think you're the shit but in reality, you're a bunch of losers!"

"Losers, my ass!" Santana snapped and seeing how angry he was made me laugh hysterically, but I snapped back into bitch mode, flashing my title, cocking my hip, and flipping my hair.

"My time is very expensive and you boys wasted enough of it. And Santana, you better watch who you're talking to. You're lucky I'm in my red bottoms and this dress or I'd show you how a champion does it right here in this ring."

"Is that right?" Santana smiled, licking his lip and getting in my face.

He was hiding his anger by smiling, but I smiled right back, inches away from his face, if I got any closer our noses would have touched.

"That's right," I whispered, "Unless you want to prove me wrong. Actually, it wouldn't be the first time I wrestled in a dress."

"I got you, girl," Santana smiled, backing away, "You just wait!"

"Don't keep me waiting too long," I smiled back, winking at him, but when I turned to the crowd, I rolled my eyes.

Finally! Finally! I had my time in the ring and I also sat on commentary for one of the women's matches. It annoyed me that Tony tried to keep asking me questions about what just took place between me and the Inner Circle, but I told him to shut up and he listened. Thankfully, Jim told him how he shouldn't piss of royalty.

Right after that match, I went back to my dressing room. A bottle of champagne was truly calling my name. Too much annoyance consumed my mind for the night.

"Y/N," One of the backstage crew members called out, a bottle in his hands when he approached me, "A gift for you."

"No way," I laughed, taking the bottle that was champagne, one of my favorites actually, "That stupid idiot actually got me a bottle!"

"Actually," The member murmured, a bit scared as he did interrupt me a bit, "Here's the note."

I took the note from him, reading it and it said, "From one New Yorker to another."

MJF maybe? I tried thinking of who would have left it behind. After what I said out there, it definitely wasn't anyone in the Inner Circle. Either way, I didn't care. I just took it and went inside my room, demanding from the crew member:

"A Champagne glass. Now."

That member did not hesitate and while in my room, I was just watching the show, opening up the bottle while waiting. After what felt like forever, I heard a knock on my door.

"Finally," I groaned, "It's open!"

That same crew member opened the door, but then someone grabbed it. I couldn't tell who it was, but I saw their hand taking the champagne glass and a small bucket of ice.

"Thanks, but I got it from here."

Santana? Well, I found my fellow New Yorker who gifted me with champagne.

"Aww," I smiled while sitting up, "I only asked for a glass and he also brought me some ice for the bottle. How sweet is that?"

Santana wasn't thrilled to see me and I made sure he didn't get away from my smart comments whenever I stood up, mumbling, "Only if he got here sooner."

Without any words, I took the glass and ice over to the small table where I had the bottle waiting.

"So, you came over here for a reason. Care to tell?" I asked, pouring a glass, "Also, nice choice."

"I already told you out in the ring," Santana sighed, his hands in his pockets while he came around the couch and to the table where I was standing, "Maybe now that you're not on camera with the crowd around you, just maybe your ego won't get to your head."

"You're funny," I whispered, giggling while taking a sip, "Nothing about an ego. I just know my worth."

"Chris was right whenever he called you a brat," He mumbled, becoming annoyed with me, but I stopped beating around the bush.

"As I recall, you said that I need to be taught a lesson," I reminded him, smiling, "It would be a shame if I passed up the offer, but I don't think this would be the place to have a proper wrestling match."

"You really think you can beat me in the ring?" He smirked, thinking I was crazy.

"I know that I can," I smiled, "You think I'm afraid to wrestle a man? I could take that world title off of Omega if I wanted to."

Santana just laughed at me, shaking his head when he said, "You're crazy."

"Not crazy, just very ambitious and self-confident. What's wrong with that?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow, "No matter what 'lesson' you teach me-"

I was sure we both knew what was going to happen next, so I made the first move, getting close to him like when we were in the ring, just inches away from one another, finishing with:

"It's not going to change a thing."

There was no fighting the smile that was creeping onto my face when Santana got even closer, towering over me but still keeping direct eye contact, leaning his head down a little, our noses almost touching when he whispered:

"You sure about that?"

"We just went through this. Go ahead. Try to prove me wrong," I chuckled, seeing him shake a little when I picked up my leg, my thigh running between both of his, whispering, "But be careful how you hold me. I'm not just a princess, I'm a weapon."

All of the tension between us shattered like glass, about dropping my glass whenever his lips hit mine like a truck. There was no way I could deny it, he was a damn good kisser and it drove me crazy, taking him by surprise when I pushed him against the wall.

His hands were tugging at my dress, pulling it above my hips. I was smiling more when I felt his large, warm hands sliding down, taking two handfuls of my ass, biting my lip, and making me gasp hard when he planted a firm, swift smack on my ass.

It had me breathing heavily and it fired me up. I took two handfuls of his shirt, whispering against his lips, "Damn, you trying to make me cum already?"

"You like that?" Santana smiled, getting a moan out of me when he hit me with another one.

After that one, I snapped, wanting to get down and dirty. His eyes were locked on me, smiling when I stepped out of my panties, letting my dress fall, staying in my heels.

"You must not have listened when I told you that I'm a weapon," I huffed, ready to go back to him, but he came at me, throwing off his jacket, sitting me on the back of the couch, his shirt going next, hands at his jeans when I pulled him by his shoulders into another kiss.

I hopped down from the couch the moment I saw his briefs, getting a good look for myself, liking what I saw, making the rush in me pick up the speed.

"I'm not known for being speechless, but damn," I chuckled, my hand stroking his cock softly, watching him bite his lip.

He let me have my own little moment of fun, but immediately after, he took me by the wrist, twirling me around so that I was facing the couch, bending me over it. The anticipation was killing me; Santana adding to it with every move he made, his hand around my throat, bringing my head back a little so he could whisper in my ear:

"It's time you learn your lesson."

"This seems like a very fun lesson if you ask me-" I chuckled, but ended up breathless, gasping for a moment, then biting my lip.

I felt his crown pop into me, having to stretch me wide with every inch that slid up, which was a good bit, hitting every sensitive part along my walls. I had to bite my lip hard, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing me truly moan just yet.

"Got nothing smart to say now huh?" He snickered, thrusting into me hard, keeping his hips pinned against me and that made the moans I was holding back jump out, "Come on, I know you have a loud mouth."

"Got damn you," I whispered under my breath, closing my eyes and just taking in the crazy good feeling, it becoming hard to handle how he was bottoming me out already.

It was hard to believe how hard and fast he could go for so long, my hands gripping onto the end of the couch, trying to rock my hips back into him, but his pace was a bit too fast for me, his hands at my hips, sliding down to my thighs a bit, squeezing them hard with each thrust.

Again, I tried rocking back into him and when I did, his crown went past my sweet spot, making my legs shake like hell, bending over a little further, burying my face in the couch cushion.

Of course, he had to add to it, slapping my ass hard, then taking my hair, pulling my head back.

"Trying to hide something?" He huffed, laughing a bit, but burying himself deep, making me moan out so loudly, barely pulling his hips back, then pounding into me, growling in my ear, "Everyone in this damn building is going to hear you screaming my name. There ain't no hiding it, Y/N."

I was already a moaning mess, but there was one thing I wasn't doing and that was saying his name. With the mindset I have, I didn't want to give him that satisfaction, but that mindset was broken.

Being in heels definitely didn't help my legs, they were still shaking like hell, Santana's hand still pulling at my hair when he leaned back, pulling his cock all the way down and slamming every inch back.

"Fuck Santana!" I cried out, not even trying to fight it anymore.

"Huh?" He huffed, pulling back on me a little more so that I was almost standing, "I couldn't hear you."

I could feel tears form a bit from the way every nerve in my body was burning. My whole body burning like a wildfire. All of the heat coiling up in my core, the burning making my knees weak; I was barely able to stand up and if that wasn't enough, my ass received another swift smack. It made me smile, my ass tingling and I could feel it steaming.

"You're fucking amazing, Santana," I praised, smiling with more moans, but he had me right back to whining and nearly screaming, using his foot to move my legs, spreading them a little wider, bringing me up all the way, his chest against my back.

My body was ready to fall like a game of Jenga, his hand sliding down my inner hip and rubbing my clit rapidly, his hips still rolling, using his forearm to push mine down, making his crown go even deeper. I was sure he was at my lower stomach, that's where I felt all of the impact.

All I could do was whine and moan helplessly, my walls beginning to pulsate hard and I was ready to let it all go, let my orgasm run free, but he started slowing down.

"Santana," I whined, trying to move my hips, "Don't do this to me."

"I'm not fully convinced that you learned your lesson," Santana scoffed, "But I'm about to find out."

He began to give me slow thrusts, but every single one was hard, still able to keep the sense of my orgasm around, almost triggering it, but not letting it happen. Sharp whines fell from my lips with every thrust, his hand still at my clit.

"Please, Santana," I asked, trying not to sound like I was begging, but that's what he wanted.

"Huh?" He teased, beginning to pick up his pace a little more, "I'm having a hard time hearing you. Especially with you moaning like that."

He knew I was ready to snap. I tried to fight it, but with every thrust, every moan, I was becoming desperate, his ungodly speed bringing my orgasm right back again and I didn't want it going anywhere; So, I gave him what he wanted.

"Please just-" I began, having to swallow my pride, "Please just let me cum, Santana. Please, please."

"That's all you had to do," He whispered, bending me over the couch again, lifting one of my legs and going so hard, but finally, with a super tight clench of my walls, wrapped around him so tight, I could feel every part of his cock slide up and when his crown went past my sweet spot again, I actually let out a loud scream.

"Oh, my fuc-" I cried, holding onto one of his hands for dear life, "Santana!"

My body was going crazy, shaking and tensing up at the same time. Santana actually helped a bit when he held me by the sides, feeding me some softer thrusts while all of the wet heat just fell out onto him, still getting some faint moans out of me while I was trying to catch my breath.

"Told you I was going to put you in your place," Santana chuckled, but I just ignored his comment for now.

My brain felt like it was lagging, my body ready to just drop and I even admitted that when I whispered, "And I thought wrestling was rough."

Santana heard me and laughed, leaning down, teasing me, "Aww, the princess can't take a few rough strokes?"

"I'm still standing ain't I?" I smirked, fighting through the shaking and standing up, "In red bottoms too."

"They ain't as red as your ass though," He noted, stroking my ass where he slapped it, and even, I laughed at it.

"I will admit," I sighed, swallowing my pride, looking back at him to say, "Maybe you did actually teach me a lesson."

"Trust me, whether if you admit it or not," Santana smiled, lighting tapping my ass again, kissing me when he whispered, "I know I did."

[ressyfaerie]

I would love love love to see something along the lines of a Tyka mer au?? Especially if Kai is the merman!! I do love them ever so. Any age rating/idea I am so down for, pretty please!! 🥺🙏❤

Keep up with the great Tyka content it makes my day!

I know who you are and you always give me the best fic inspiration! I read your Tyka mer comics and I am INSPIRED. This might be longer than expected! But here I gooooo

So now that I finished it, I’ll be putting it in a readmore since it’s VERY LONG!!

It’s very rare that I write in first person! But this story definitely called for it, and I AM COMPLETELY IN LOVE. You’re going to want to ask for more, I can already tell.

So here it is:

When I was young, I was saved by a merman.

I remember how the cold seeped into my veins. My head was pounding from the force of hitting the water.

I was too young to know how to swim.

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

My body was numb, I descended into the dark blue sea, I saw the light glimmer from the surface, and felt water invade my lungs.

That’s when I saw him.

A flash of blue and milky skin. I felt the smooth scales wrap around my body. I saw his face, clear as day. His purple eyes, silver hair, and blue face markings. His face looked panicked, bubbles erupted from his mouth forming inaudible words. His face turned blurry, and my vision grew dark.

I woke up on the beach. No one believed me when I told them. Just a child’s fantasy gone overboard.

I always wondered how I made it back to shore without knowing how to swim, or how I missed all the rocks.

Someone must have saved me.

The more I visited the beach and saw no sign of a blue finned merman my belief started to dwindle.

Growing up I drew pictures, I even based my imaginary friend off my hero.

In my teens, my best friend Max reminded me of him.

“Tyson! I was just telling my friend about that mer-boy that saved you when you were a kid!”

I laughed it off, “it was a fairytale, Max. Nothing more.”

Years before, Kenny and Hilary sat with me on the beach one day after training.

“Could he still be out there?”

I cleaned my surfboard, looking off into the mysterious ocean.

Hilary passed me a bottle of wax for my board, “you know, I read at least eighty percent of the ocean remains undiscovered.”

Kenny looked up from his laptop, “every mermaid sighting has been proved fake. I still think what you saw was due to a lack of oxygen.”

I gave him an angry look, I didn’t mean to.

“Uh… but miracles have happened.” Kenny tried to reassure me.

I knew the truth.

Mermaids and mermen weren’t real.

After my Mom died, and my Dad left with my brother to explore the world, I had two things, my Grandpa, and my imagination.

Thinking of that boy was my playground. I’d bring sandwiches to the beach, and pretend to talk to him.

I made friends. And became a surfing champion. With my success my imagination drifted away.

I guess I really wasn’t ready for what came next huh?

“Tyson!”

Hilary and Kenny made their way towards my desk, I slammed my textbook closed, I was done with studying anyways.

“There’s a carnival in town! It’s close to your house, you want to come with us tonight?” Her eyes were bright.

I felt a pat on my shoulder, I looked to my right, Max’s blonde hair caught my eye.

“Carnival? Count me in!”

“I’m going too…” Kenny mentioned awkwardly, “Tyson?”

I rolled my eyes, carnivals were for kids. Besides I was planning on catching some waves tonight, but the weather was supposed to be really calm. I guess I could spare the time.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.”

I was right. Carnivals were for kids.

Doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun though.

We rode ride after ride. Kenny had to sit on a bench after he got sick, Hilary rubbed his back.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, partner!” Max slapped my back, “let's get some more snacks!”

Max pulled me towards another booth. I love food, but after a dozen different snacks, and a dozen different rides, I had to admit, I wasn’t feeling too well.

Max handed me a candy apple, I took a bite and felt my stomach turn.

“Bluh,” my lip turned in disgust.

“Wanna take a break from the rides?”

I nodded.

We lost Kenny and Hilary ages ago. Walking through the parts of the carnival with fewer people, we came across a mirror maze.

“Tyson, let’s go in!”

“Sounds fun!”

It was no surprise when I lost Max right away.

I could hear his excited giggles and him shouting my name, I tried to go in his direction, but eventually his voice faded out, and I found my way to the exit.

“Max!” I shouted into the maze, but there was no reply back.

He might have gotten out already…

I walked through the carnival looking for my blonde haired friend. No luck. There was a fortune teller, I made a mental note, Hilary would have liked to go back there.

Then something caught my eye.

ANASTASIA’S HOUSE OF WONDERS

It looked like a cardboard standee, with dark tents behind it. It couldn’t have been that big. I saw some people leave out the exit. There was someone in front of it. They were dressed in a creepy joker costume.

“Hey man,” I got his attention.

“Do you dare enter the house of wonders!”

“Uh, maybe? Is it cool? Like… what’s in there?”

“Things that will make your blood boil—”

“Things?”

“And creatures unknown to this world!—”

“Creatures!?”

“And above all—”

“Oooo what else!?”

“Look kid.” The grey haired joker lowered his arms and sighed, “can you just let me finish my speech?”

“Oh, yeah sorry.”

“I’m Bryan the sharpshooting joker! For only a few bucks—find yourself immersed in a new world!—”

“Okay,” I raised my hand, “that’s enough.”

“Oh thank god” Bryan’s voice dropped a few octaves.

The guy seemed kinda chill, so I leveled with him.

“So dude, is it actually worth my time in there?”

Bryan nodded, “yeah, it’s actually really cool.”

“Alright, sign me up.” I handed him a couple bills.

“Enjoy.” He counted the money.

Before I left I looked under his costume hat, “wait, don’t I know you?”

“Maybe?” He grumbled, accidentally revealing his true persona.

“Yeah! You were in the last surfing championship! You’re that crazy intense guy Bryan! What the heck are you doing here?”

“Uh, sidegig.” He lowered his mask, “have fun in there, kid.”

“Okay…”

I brushed off the awkward encounter and turned to the entrance. It was covered in two extravagant curtains. I pushed the fabric to the side and walked into the darkness.

Wait, is this a haunted house? Damn I shouldn’t have gone without Max!

The first thing I noticed was there was a lack of… people. Tesla coils and odd gimmicks littered the floor of the first hallway. I rolled my eyes, remembering carnivals were for kids.

The next room was bigger than expected, it was a dome with a button in the middle. I pressed it, who could resist a big red button after all?

Suddenly a snow storm picked up. I covered my face, “ah!”

It stopped before I could figure it out, I stared at the sleeve of my red jacket, where snowflakes started melting.

“Alright, that was definitely real snow! I’ll admit I have no idea how you did that one!”

I shouted to no one, but it still helped my nerves.

I—couldn’t figure out where the exit was.

I walked to the edge of the dome, it looked like a carnival tent, I tapped the edge, it rang back with a metallic sound.

“Uh.” I grew worried, “an exit would be nice?!”

I heard a sound from the other side of the room, and some fabric fell from nowhere, revealing another dark room, “thank you!”

Cautiously I made my way to the dark room.

I wish I hadn’t.

Inside were weird animals in green jars.

“Oof, these can’t be real.”

I tapped one, the baby bird inside moved.

“I assure you, they are all real.”

I turned to the corner. A.. man? He had a raven masquerade mask, and when Tyson locked eyes with him, he screamed and revealed massive black wings from his back.

“What the!?—”

I fell backwards, falling on my rear.

The bird boy made his way towards me.

“What are you?!”

“I’m Ian, the birdman.” He sounded tired.

“And in there,” he pointed to the next room with a black talon, “you’ll find my wolf friend.”

“You’re what!?”

I sat up, “naw, I’m done with this place. Your costumes are a bit too real for me.”

He shrugged, “that’s what they all say.” he sat on a crate with a loud thud, “enjoy the rest of the tour.”

I went to the next room because that guy was freaking me out. I really wanted to head back the way I came, but I couldn’t seem to find it.

Also, that guy seemed kind of familiar.

The next room felt colder than the rest. My heart raced when I saw a cage.

“Uh, hello? This haunted house is getting a little weird…”

I heard the clanking of chains, and a flash of red. On the floor of the cage was a boy, a bit older than myself.

“Are you okay?” I asked knowing it was an actor.

I heard a deep growl, and he lifted himself off the floor. I gasped when I saw his face.

A white wolf with a red mane bared his teeth at me.

I took a step back.

I felt the room grow cold, as the wolf tensed and growled.

It lunged forward and snapped it’s jaw, it hit the bars of the cage with a strength that boy shouldn’t possess, I turned and ran.

I ran through a wall tearing down fabric sprinting through tents.

It was dark, I couldn't see anything and didn’t know where I was going.

“Ah!” My foot got caught on a stone and I fell forward.

“How is this place so big! It did not look like this from the outside!”

In front of me was a curtain, it just barely touched the floor, I could see light shining from under it.

If I can’t find my way out… I might as well head for the light.

I lifted the curtain up and shielded my eyes from the bright white light.

In front of me I could just make out the wheels of a traveling train car. The front of it wasn’t metal, it was glass. Bright fluorescent lights hung over it. There was a sign next to me, I rubbed my eyes and could just make out the writing.

Newest exhibit! A rarity of its kind! Stay back, he splashes.

“What?”

Then I saw it.

The flash of blue, silver, and purple.

A merman threw himself against the glass repeatedly, tossing his fists against it. His wrists were in chains, and his constant assault against the glass only amounted to hollow thumps echoing through the tent.

I felt my body freeze.

It was the merman from my childhood.

Is this real?

I slowly made my way to the sealed aquarium.

The boy must have seen me enter the ring of light, because he stopped, he started floating, and stared at me.

“Hello?”

The merman didn’t move, he simply floated in place, I could see his chest move up and down.

“Do you recognize me?”

I made my way to the glass, getting a good look at the boy for the first time.

I placed my hand on the glass. I saw how red his wrists were from the chains.

He put his hand against the glass, only a thin separation between us. I smiled, and looked into his purple eyes.

I think he smiled at me. He opened his mouth slightly and a few bubbles popped out. I chuckled, and he looked back at me.

I stared up at the top of the tank, the lid was thick glass. A massive padlock kept it down. He saw me look at it, and he shook his head frantically.

I nodded, and placed my head against the glass, “you’re not supposed to be here.”

I jumped and hit the lock with my hand gauging how tough it was.

The merman waved his hand and mouthed words shaking his head.

“I’m gonna get you out of here!”

I looked around the room for a tool to use to break the lock. The only thing I could find was the sign I had seen previously.

I grabbed it, and tossed it to the ground, ripping it off its base.

The merman kept throwing his fist against the tank to get my attention, I ignored him knowing I had to help him.

I climbed the edge of the train cart so I was standing on top of the glass looking down at the silver haired boy. He floated on his back and kept banging on the glass with both hands.

It seemed like he was mouthing the words ‘get out get out!’

I used the stick tool I had made and bashed the lock, making loud sounds through the room. I kept doing it, but it didn’t budge.

The merman was banging on the glass mouthing the same words.

“I’m trying!”

I jumped down, knowing I would have to find a different tool, but I bashed it again in frustration.

The merman was frantically pointing now.

“What? What is it?” I watched his lips.

‘Behind you!’

I felt someone grab my shoulder, before I could scream they grasped my shirt and yanked me to the floor, dragging me away.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to touch people in a haunted house!”

I kicked and screamed while watching my merman frantically swim in circles and hit the glass with his tail. He was trying to get to me, but I knew it wasn’t going to work.

The man threw me into another room. I couldn’t see anything in the dark, I was tossed on a chair and sat up. He turned on a light with a click, and an old fluorescent bulb hung from the ceiling. I blinked a few times trying to find my way in the new surroundings.

A silhouette of a man sat on the opposite end of a table.

“You think you can try to take one of my treasures?”

“He is not yours!”

“Months ago I captured him. He’s rightfully mine.”

“Who do you think you are?!” I screamed at him, knowing full well this full grown man could cause me serious harm.

“He’s a rarity, I won’t let him fall into the hands of some snot nosed teenager with a superiority complex.”

I spat, “do you own this crazy place?”

“I do.”

“Don’t think I didn’t recognize your workers. I surfed with most of them in last year's competition.”

The man simply laughed, I finally got to make out some of his facial features. He was an older man.

“And why does the world champion desire my merman?”

“I don’t desire him, he needs to be free!”

“Ha!” The man’s voice bellowed.

I frantically searched for answers, for a way out—for the both of us.

“I’ll buy him from you!”

“Like you could afford him.”

“If I win the next competition—”

“You won’t.”

I grinned smugly, “you don’t know that.”

“You won by luck, my team is far superior.”

“Your team of monsters? Isn’t that cheating?”

“And you think being a descendant of a storm dragon is fair?”

“I’m a—what?”

The man shook his head.

“I know who you are, Tyson.”

“You gonna tell me who you are?”

The man chuckled in response to my anger, making me even more furious.

“The name is Boris. I take care of these boys—”

“By imprisoning them? Leave my merman alone!”

“Excuse me? Yours? Did you not just meet this creature?”

“Let’s say I’m feeling friendly.” I crossed my arms.

“He seemed to react to your presence, what did you do?”

I panicked, “how long were you watching for!?”

“Long enough. I’ve had him here for a few months, yet I can’t seem to break him.”

“Break him?” I was in disbelief, my childhood hero was not some horse at a stable!

“Yes, perhaps you could help—”

“No.” I grimaced.

Boris tapped his fist on the table, “well, it seems we are at an impasse.”

“You’ll never have my help.”

“I think I can live without it.” He stood up, he was much taller than me. “Please leave my circus, and don’t come back.”

“I’m not leaving without the merman.” I stood my ground.

“That’s a shame.”

I felt something heavy hit my temple—

I woke up on a grassy hill. I rubbed my head.

When I managed to sit up I overlooked the carnival from across a field. The lights were all out. It had to have been late for it to be completely closed.

Boris…

Now that I knew my merman was real, and that he was captured by such an evil man I had to find a way to get him back.

I’ll steal him. I’ll figure something out…

You better watch your back Boris.

I stared in the direction I thought my blue finned saviour would be in.

Hold on, I’m coming for you.

[tellerford13]

MO ASTOR- CHAPTER 36

We don’t own the bikes, brothers, or any “related” Sons of Anarchy, trust us, if we did we wouldn’t have the time to write. No money is being made from our stories. So, please don’t sue. It’d be a fruitless endeavor indeed. That being said, Harley, Journee, and any other newbies are ours, and we don’t share. :Whispers in creepy voice: “My precious.” The universe This reality is a mix of cannon, and our own ideas. We strive to keep the boys cannon, but since we will be shifting around some of the events, that will reflect in our writing and their personalities as well. It’s our goal to provide you with quality fiction, and solid, fleshed out OFC. We appreciate constructive criticism and love LOVE reviews, they are a writers life blood and definitely help encourage us and inspire us.                                                       A/N: Oh My God We’re Back Again. It’s been a long time, but we never lost our love for Mo Astor. We’ve been plotting, and writing, and editing behind the scenes. We’re back to posting once a week. Thank you to all the readers who’ve left comments, favorited, and waited patiently. Grab a drink, sit back, and get ready to become lost in the world we’ve created.

                                         Mo Astor Chapter 36

Jax

It’s been a long time since it was just me and my baby sister. I’m looking forward to the one-on-one, though I’d never admit it out loud. She’s been my rock through some hard times.

I imagine she’d say the same for me. When life around you is constantly shifting, you look to each other to remain stable. That’s something most don’t understand.  That bond you have with someone who holds you down through all the bullshit is lifelong. It doesn’t break when you do jail time, have a difference of opinions, or get busy with life. So yeah, I guess civilians right, we ain’t like them.

“Morning,” I call as I walk into the house and disarm and reset the alarm.

“You’re making me regret giving you a key.” I follow her voice into the kitchen.  

“You love it when I visit,” I retort.

“Did you tell the incubator I’m coming with you?” She asks cutting straight to the point.

I snicker. “Believe it or not, she prefers you.”

Journee scowls.

“Proves how fucking stupid she is,” she mutters.

“Jesus, Baby J. hold a grudge much?”

“Pot meet kettle. Mr. Let’s measure our dicks with Kick.” She finishes rinsing off her dishes, and piles them into the dishwasher.

“That was setting boundaries.”

“Riiight. Whatever you need to help you sleep at night. At least I own my crazy ass tendencies.” She pouts.

“’Cause that’s better?” I lean against the counter beside her.

“Oh, yeah bro. Always best to know yourself.” She winks

“You’re full of shit.”

“Guess that’s why my eyes are brown, huh? Wait that can’t be true. Cause your eyes are sky blue, J.”

“You’re supposed to be coming along for moral support,” I reminder her wryly.

“I am.” She pats my cheek as we head out of her house towards my bike. “I’m breaking you down to build you up stronger.”

“That’s some fucked up Gemma logic.” I mutter.

“She did raise us to be like her.”

“You say that with a straight face and it becomes a scary story.” She laughs.

“I know.”

“Such a little shit.” I’m smiling as I say it. Like a true little sister, no one can get away with more bullshit than her, and she knows it. It reminds me of the year she and Tommy were as thick as thieves. He was a lot like her in many ways—more soft spoken and thoughtful. As an only kid she had a crazy patience for him, reading him books, and letting him trail along beside her.

Part of me wondered if they’d have ended up together if things were different and she’d be a Teller for another reason. Especially with how things ended up for me and Lee.

I push the thought out of my mind. What if’s did nothing but drive you crazy.

“So, what exactly did I agree to go to anyway?” she asks.

“Don’t you think you should’ve asked that beforehand?” I tease.

She shakes her head. “You know I’m your ride or die.”

“I do. Basic check-up, and then lunch. I get the feeling she’s got some new man.”

She whistles. “Damn that fast?”

“Hey. If it keeps her from dicking with me and Lee, and doesn’t affect my boy, let her be happy.”

“All kidding aside.” She shuts the door to the dishwasher and turns to me. “ I’m proud of you, big brother. You’ve come a long way.”

My neck grows hot. “We both know Lee had a lot to do with that.”

“Your, opening your eyes and seeing what was in front of you did that. You and Lee were always just a matter of when not if.” She starts the wash cycle.

“So sure.” I roll my eyes.

“I could see it. Over the years you got so close, but something always kept you from clicking.” “Deep down I knew in order to keep her I’d have to get my shit together, and I wasn’t ready to do that. So I stayed back ‘cause fucking things up between us wasn’t an option, you know?”

“Things came out the way they were meant to.”

“You really think that?” I glance into her soft brown eyes, and she gives me that Madonna smile that makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. I can always be real with my sister because I know she’s going to give me the truth. Wither I want it or not.

“I do.” She reaches over and places her hand on mine. “You both had some work to do before you could commit to forever.”

“You think I have it in me?  Forever and kids and all that?” I ask cautiously. So far, I’m screwing up the baby thing with my first born. It’s scary thinking of another person depending on me, let alone a child. It changes everything, and our life is unpredictable.

“You are your father’s son. Is there even a doubt?”

“Naw.” I lie, trying to fake it till I make it like I always do.

“Didn’t think so. You’re paying for lunch right? ‘Cause I’m starving.”

I laugh.

“You about to try to put a hurting on my wallet?” I hand her my spare helmet before climbing on my bike.

“Better than putting a hurting on your ex.” She says with a shrug, clipping the helmet on.

I chuckle, pulling my helmet on.

“You have a valid point. Damn you are our mothers’ child.”

She blows a raspberry, before mounting my bike.  Little sis knows since she’s doing me a favor, she has the upper hand—and she’s going to milk that shit for all it’s worth. It’s the Teller way.

~~~~~~~ I’m pleasantly surprised and slightly bewildered by the manicured lawn and uncluttered space by the garage. The large black garbage cans are lined up neatly by the curb on the street.

Pulling into the driveway, I remove my helmet and pause to take in the freakish cleanliness it’s lacked in prior visits.  This is above and beyond the duties we assigned the prospect keeping tabs on Wendy’s house.

“Well. This is different,” Journee whispers.

“Yeah.” I frown and turn to look over my shoulder.

“Maybe Ma sent over multiple prospects to tidy up.”

“Nu-uh.” Journee shakes her head.

“She said this was your mess to handle.” I purse my lips. “Which means it’s up to me to help you out with the pile of shit you’ve landed in.” Journee sighs.

“I feel the love.”

Journee shrugs. “I’m only speaking the truth big bro. You choose poorly for your first baby Mama. I told you how I felt about her long before you decided to give her your crow.”

I scowl. “No need to rub it in.”

“I’m just reminding you to listen to me. Sometimes I know things.” She flicks my ear and climbs off the back of my bike gracefully.

“Let’s get this torture session over, please.”

“You think it’s bad for you? I got eighteen years of this bare minimum.”

Storing our helmets in my saddlebags, I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, be my buffer.”

“I should let you go up in flames,” She mutters.

“That’s not sisterly,” I say with a grin.

“Jaxass.” She mutters.

We climb the steps, and the door swings open to reveal Wendy before we can even knock.  My jaw drops at her appearance. I glance over to find Journee equally shocked.

She looks like a fucking Stepford wife in a pale-yellow sundress complete with a flared skirt and heels. Last time she dressed like this a waffle iron came flying at my head.

“Jackson.  Cat got your tongue?” Wendy smirks.

Journee growls. “Aaaah, the little cocoa sidekick.”

“You know it only takes nine months to bake a baby, and you’ve got what...” Journee taps a finger against her cheek. “Less than three months left?”

“Nice to know you can count,” Wendy sneers.

  This is a new woman in front of me. I’m glad that she’s gotten the idea of us getting back together to be a family out of her head, but this one-eighty makes me uneasy.

I scan her body, and notice the thick strips of white medical tape over her entire right forearm.

They stand out against her nineteen-fifties get up.

“The fuck.” I grab her arm. “What are you hiding?”

“Your mark. Which meant nothing.” She spits, tugging her arm away.

“Let me see.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

Journee moves forward, blocking the doorframe with her body to keep me from dragging the smart-mouthed bitch out.

“I swear to God. If you’re using again.”  My breath quickens, and my visions tints red as rage builds up inside me like an inferno about to blaze out of control.

“You can take it off on your own. Or I can make you,” Journee says softly.

“One of these days, someone is going to put you in your fucking place. You don’t even belong here,” Wendy growls.

Journee climbs up another step, getting in her face.

“I know exactly who I am, where I belong, and where I’m wanted. You could never say the same, could you? Poor little lost girl, with loose legs begging to belong.”

Wendy blinks and turns away. Her hands tremble as she unwraps the tape and thrusts her arm toward me. “Look your fill. You dick.”

I peer down at the unmarred skin, and my knees nearly go weak with relief.  “It better stay this way.”

“I have someone to take care of me now, Jackson. I don’t need your bullshit concerns.”

“The minute you give birth to my baby you can do whatever the hell you want. Until that time, your business is mine.”

“It’s my baby too.” Her tone makes me stand up straight.

“What was that Wendy?” My voice drops an octave. “Is the junkie with no job trying to tell me she thinks she’s the better parent?”

“Inside.” Journee whispers.

Of course, We always have to keep up appearances here in town.” My mother’s voice plays in my head.

The fresh scent of cleanser and scented candles greets me. The house has never looked this good.

Who turned her into June Cleaver? I search the place for clues. The laundry basket resting on the couch has t-shirts that are far too big for Wendy, and the black boxers are a dead giveaway.

I don’t feel anything for her. I haven’t for far longer than I care to admit.  But I do worry about the company she’s keeping with my boy still in her belly.

He’s not a junkie. Shit’s too put together for that.

“Going somewhere?” Journee asks, nodding toward the kitchen.

I spot the half-packed boxes and bare spaces on the counter.

“I don’t want to stay in this house of lies.” Her dark eyes burn into mine.

“And where do you plan on going?” I ask. She looks away.

“Do you really want us to have to find you?” Journee asks.

Wendy crosses her arms under her breasts, pulling the material tight around her waist.I take in the bulge that’s grown over the past month.

“I’m just preparing.”

“You’re not supposed to be lifting heavy things right now.”

“I have help,” She snaps.

“You aren’t the only person who’d ever want me.” Her hands ball into fists. “If you can move on, so can I.”

“No one is saying you can’t, you crazy bitch. Calm the fuck down before you distress my godson. There’s no reason for everyone to get all worked up. We get it. Wendy bagged herself a new man. Good for you. We’re here to get our report on the baby, and we’ll be gone. The quicker you update us, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair.” Journee holds her hands out like she’s wrangling two high school kids about to fight.

Huffing, she stalks over to the large chair and sits down crossing her ankles, like some kind of proper lady. I’m in the fucking twilight zone. I lean forward with my arms on my knees, drinking up her reports. My boy is growing properly and healthy. It’s more than I could’ve hoped for, considering how fast and hardcore we were living when she got knocked up.

We were both empty shells looking to fill up spaces neither of us could ever fit into.

It’d been fun for a while, but it had never been built to last. She wasn’t even a consolation prize post-Tara tear down— Wendy was a pretty thing to warm my bed and play by the club rules without question. Now I’m paying for my poor choices.

“You satisfied?” Wendy asks. Journee looks at me, and I nod.

“For now.” Journee nods her head, and we both rise.

“Same time next month, Case.” Journee drawls. Such a little shit. Makes a brother proud.

She scowls as we leave.

“What. the fuck, Jax?” Journee whispers.

I shake my head. “Not sure, but if he keeps her shit together for the next 2 and half months, I don’t much care.”

~~~~~~

Sitting down at the table in Hannah’s, I wait for J to finish most of her meal before bringing up the main reason I wanted to go out to lunch after.

“All right Baby J, so…I gotta admit there's another reason I brought you along today.” I begin, wiping my hands off with my napkin. She rolls her eyes playfully at me. “Of course there is. So, which of my skill sets will you need for this favor? I've got a few spots saved in the woods for disposal and Hap gave me an amazing cleaner kit for my birthday.” She says with an excited grin and a bloodlust in her eyes. She is so her father’s daughter. I can't help but chuckle, shaking my head in Disbelief.  By looking at her you'd never guess what she was capable of.  But with her dad the Sergeant at Arms of Grim Bastards, and her mentor Happy Lowman…there’s a side to her that I never want to get on the bad side of. “Well I do need your skills, just not those ones.” I say, taking a sip of my water. She raises a curious eyebrow at me before smirking.

“Sorry bro, my other skills are only allowed to be enjoyed by my husband and my wifey. As kinky as my old man is, I don't think we're ready to swing just yet.”

She teases with a wink and I damn near spit my sip out. “Jesus J, not that either! Shit little sister, I’ve only just begun playing in Lee's pussy myself. No other dick is going to be poking around in her till it’s been claimed to completion.” Her eyebrows shoot up.“Already planning on making her your second baby mama?” "Second and final. But not just yet. I just got her to say I love you to me. If I plant the seed too soon, I'm worried she'd rip out the roots.”

She rolls her eyes. “Naw Bro, Lee'd never terminate.”

“Oh I know, I wasn't talking about the baby. I was more concerned with her going Loreena Bobbitt on me.”  I say honestly, shifting in my seat at the imaginary pain. She bursts out laughing, nodding her head in agreement. “Yea, that uh, that might be more likely.” She says between adorable little snorts.

I nod my head in agreement. “Exactly and seeing is how I ain't planning on changing my singing voice anytime soon, I'm real careful how I'm navigating this one.” Feels like the story of my life right now. It’s been a unique experience having the girl be hesitant with me.With Tara and Wendy, we went full steam ahead, and the crows afterwards all but jumped on my dick the minute I looked at them.

Lee is different. And being with her like this has shown me just how special she is.

She’s worth the time and the energy to make this work for both of us.

J offers me a soft, approving smile. “That's good to hear.” I nod. It’s a relief knowing how much baby sister supports us. None of this would’ve happened without her, and I know she’s got my back to help me navigate these new relationship waters. “Besides she's got that IED thing in her arm.” I add.

She bursts out laughing again and this time I'm a little confused.

“It's an IUD dumbass. Lee doesn't have a fucking bomb implanted in her arm.” She teases and I can't help but chuckle.

There's a joy in her eyes I haven't seen since before the whole Kyle debacle. I'm not the least bit surprised her old man helped put it there. I've known about his crush on her for years, but I knew better than to say shit. I figure if Chibs was taking his time there had to be a reason. Brother was one of the most strategic mother fuckers I knew. I was fifteen when he patched in, and after losing my old man, I saw him like the big brother I never had. There was no one I listened to and trusted more than Filip Telford.

I loved Ope and, there would always be a lifelong bond between us, but when he met Donna, we both felt something sever between us. He became a family man almost overnight, and I wasn’t done sewing my wild oats. Plus, the way the whole thing went down with him hurting J, it never sat right with me. Those two had been headed in a direction that would’ve been something real special. But then Mary got involved, dragged him away and he came back with Donna.

I can still feel my anger at the look of heartbreak he’d put on Journee’s face.

He’s been out a few months now and I rarely see him. The separation has been painful, but he’s trying to go the way of the straight and narrow for his family. Donna’s laid out the rules damn clearly. If he gets into trouble again, she’s out. Should’ve had brown babies Ope. This was the real danger of marrying and procreating with a Civi. They never fully understood our world, and few respected the price that sometimes must be paid to be apart of it. I don’t resent Ope for finding love, but I do resent his love for taking him away from his family.

“All right, Well then I'm lost Jay boy. If it ain’t cleaning and it ain’t playtime…what could you need from me?” She asks, taking a sip from her drink. My stomach flutters excitedly. I reach into the pocket of my cut. Producing the crinkled, early stages of a sketch I’ve been working on, I slide it over to her.

“Need the artiste in you little sister.” She glances at me and then opens the paper. My excitement turns to nerves as I watch her eyes studying the picture presented to her. "What am I looking at here J?" She asks and I scowl slightly. "I mean I know I'm not a great artist like you, but you can tell it's a crow.”

She chuckles. “I mean I know that, but I’m wondering why I'm looking at crow?”

"Right so, I need your help J. I want to design a new crow for Lee. After the shit with Kick, I need her inked. I want everyone to know she's claimed.” Her eyebrows shoot up again. “Wait what? A new crow, but your dad designed the first one. Why do you want to do new?” “I know dad designed the first one, but he designed it for my mom. And then ya know other old ladies got it and it just sort of became trademark.” I pause. “But there's nothing trademark about my old lady. I want her to have one just for her, cause she's damn special to me and she deserves something that represents not just me but us. Like you and Chibs did. Seeing the crow designed specifically for the two of you made me realize, I don't want her wearing the same generic shit that both Tara and Wendy got. Lee is never gonna be an ex, I know she's my forever and I want this crow to be more than just the generic SAMCRO trademark.”

I explain my thought process to her watching the smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

“So, that's what I need your help with. No one loves Lee as much as me and no one knows her better. I've got an idea and I can explain what I want, but I need your help executing my vision and making it something that represents us both and that she'd be proud to wear.”

I wait for her reaction. She studies the sketch and runs her fingers over the lines. “Where are you thinking she wears her brand?” I can’t help but remember before we were together, standing in my dorm room at Journee's engagement party.  Journee running her slender fingers over Lee's chest saying how sexy a chest piece would look. I lick my lips and shift in my seat before clearing my throat. “Depends what we come up with. I know I’m definitely going to want her to get a chest piece so anyone who looks knows exactly who she belongs to, but I also know she's gotta be careful with size given her business dealings in the upper crust. So maybe just property off Jax across her chest so she can cover it up if need be. But this crow, HER crow...I don't want to worry about size. Maybe her shoulder or tricep for when she's in tank tops. After we design it and I give it to her, I'll let her decide where.”

Journee nods thoughtfully. “All right so explain to me what you're thinking.” She reaches into her oversized satchel she almost always has with her, and pulls out a small sketch book and pencil. I chuckle at her. She shrugs sheepishly. “Hey I'm an artist, never know when inspiration might strike.” She says flipping the book open to an empty page. “So I like what you have going here with the crow but what if you go with a two headed crow. Sort of like you and her becoming one.”  She explains, masterfully sketching out what I'd already drawn and adding on to it. “Now, tell me what else you're thinking.”

By the time we’re finished, the idea is a fully formed tattoo. The two crows each have a wing.

A bleeding heart in the middle of the crows speaks to our passion and dedication for each other. One crow clutches an A.K. 47 for the club, and the other crow clutches an olive branch to represent the peace she brings me.  With her, I’m completely balanced. Journee’s thrown in a few other hidden easter eggs to symbolize Lee.  My name sits above the entire thing to let everyone know who my old lady belongs to. I love that in a way Journee is woven in there. There would be no me and Lee without her wonderfully “subtle” match making ways. We stand to leave, and I toss 20 extra bucks down on a 24-dollar bill. SamCro always makes sure to tip extra well in town. Keeps our business running and our business owners happy to have us. As we're walking out my phone rings and I can't help but grin when I see Lee's name on the caller ID.

“Hey beautiful, I was just thinking about you.” I say answering the phone. “How'd your meeting go?” I ask as we walk towards my bike. "Hey baby, went good. I think your mom and I were able to nail down the last of the details for the taste of Charming festival coming up.” I can hear the relief in her tone.

“Glad to hear it Darlin. J and I just finished up lunch. Headed back now.” I pause.“I mean, headed home.” I correct, winking at the smirk J gives me. “Glad to hear it darlin.” She mocks on the other end. J and I get to the bike and she grabs her helmet. “How’d your meeting go with Wendy?”

“Went good. I’ll tell you more about when I get there.”

“Okay baby.” I can hear her hesitation for a moment.

“Something wrong?”

“No, not at all. But umm Sack came by this morning with a few boxes of your stuff. And I hope you don't mind that I started unpacking some things. You know I hate boxes.” My heart damn near soars at her words. “Of course I don't mind Lee. You know how I hate unpacking, so unpack away. I can't wait to see it. My shit mixed in with yours. Bet it's gonna look amazing.” I say honestly. After our bathtub wall breaking session we both wanted as much of my stuff into her house as soon as possible.

Mostly cause I didn't want her changing her mind on me. “I think you'll like it. I’m headed back to the house now. You done for the day or you got Club stuff you gotta do?”

“I got some free time babe. I'll head over after I drop J off.”

I mount my bike so J can get on while I finish up my phone call. “Okay sounds good Jax.” She grows quiet for a second before a sweet "I love you Jackson," comes through the earpiece. I can't help the smile hearing her initiate the L word that been circling my head for months.

“I love you too Harley.” I say sincerely, picturing her bashful, smile on the other end.

“I'll see you soon babe.”

“Okay, bye baby.” She says before disconnecting the call. Journee is settled in her seat behind me and I can practically feel her smile. “How'd that feel?” She asks learning forward to wrap her arms around my waist. “Pretty Amazing, I’ll never get tired of hearing that from her.” I answer honestly, pulling my helmet on.  I can always be honest and real around J. “I know the feeling.” She says giving me a squeeze. She leans forward to place an affectionate kiss on my check.“I'm so happy for you Jackson. For both of you.” She says.

I thread my fingers in her course curls and cup the back of her head. After Pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, I rest my head on top of hers for a moment. “Thank you, Journee. For everything.” I sincerely say.

There is no doubt in my mind if it hadn’t been for my baby sister I wouldn’t be in this amazing stage with Lee.

Knowing me I would’ve fucked us up by now. She gives me a squeeze before situating in her seat. “All right, enough with the chick flick moment. Take me home chauffer, time for me to go see my old man.” She says like a little kid getting ready to open presents as soon as she gets home. “Yes ma'am.” I tease starting my bike and heading out. ~~~~~ A/N: In case ya’ll were wondering this was what Tellerford was thinking Lee’s Crow Looks like. It’s based off a Design the show produced and was tweaked to fit our image lol. So we thought you might like a little glimpse into what’s in our head. 

[jean----ralphio]

IT’S BoB LIVEBLOG TIME

Episode 1 is under the cut!

Warning, I swear a lot... and am very in love with RSJ so a lot of this was just me pointing at the screen and screaming RICH and then remembering you can’t see me so writing it down...

Episode 1: Curahee! Curaahhee? Curraahhee? I can’t spell so I’m renaming it Ross is a punk bitch

Buckle up my babies, this will be a carcrash!

00:01 Here we fucking go aw yis

00:11 Aw who’s this? I wish they named the gentlemen at the start of the episodes, I wanna know who is who :s

00:25 Shifty, is that you my angel son?

00:41 OMG you guys… these men are breaking my heart </3

01:06 Lord, men were committing suicide because they couldn’t go to fight? That mentality… man. Oh my God, you angels. Babies.

01:36 No jokes allowed, every man is <3

01:40 Now that I’m humbled and we’re all well and truly miserable…the credits, ugh, my heart. The score is amaziiiing. Some of the footage is actual war-time footage, I read, which is a brilliant touch.

02:01 DICK <3

02:13 DICK’S HUSBAND <3

02:18 RSJ’S NAAAAAME

02:27 JFC this music makes me so emotional. Look there’s Matthew Settle’s face. That makes me emotional too

02:48 Ah it’s Roe <3

03:48 I’m trying to pick them all out in the line-up but I can’t tell who is who. Are we supposed to be able to? There’s a short one in the middle, is that Harry?

03:49 I’m not drunk enough to handle this

04:10 Upottery? Ah it’s so English I love it. That’s not a name! Wtf is up with English place-names, you guys have the weirdest names. Upottery? Seriously? Is it only potters that live there? I’m so confused

04:22 Close up of Roe! Perfect. I approve.

04:32 Is that the guy from Line of Duty? I think it is

04:39 Lip <3

04:44 Ew. GTFO Cobb. He doesn’t even go here

04:47 IS THAT RICH? RICH. ILY. ILY RICH. Please note that 94% of this will be a Rich-watch

04:53 Lieb stop. I am sure you are not a certified hairdresser

04:56 RICH. SMOKING. SMOKING RICH. More like smoking hot do you see what I did there?

05:20 I can categorically say that I love Joe Toye. I do. I love him. But every time I see Kirk Acevedo, all I think of is Charlie my baby from Fringe (awesome show, please watch it). And I just. Charlieee <3

05:39 Aw. They’re so sad

05:55 They’re so despondent. Guys. It’s fine

06:05 Fassy?? FASSY!!

06:18 God Damien is pretty

06:25 Nix that’s not how you flirt

06:57 Lol at Dick noting its happy hour. Thinking about taking Nix on a date, are we? I bet you are. Now THAT is how you flirt!

07:24 OMG the fucking flirting! GUYS. “And give up all this?” NIX SAYS AS HE CHECKS HIM OUT

07:37 Yeah, Nix, you’ll take him ‘to Chicago’ huh? Is that what they call it nowadays.

07:44 Do you want to be that cigarette? ‘Cos there is nothing heterosexual about that lingering look, Dick

08:18 ‘Murica time

08:25 Ross, fuck off. Nice jacket though. “You PEOPLE are at the position of attention” ugh GTFO. Dick’s sideye tho lol

08:52 NGL Ross does a great job at being super unlikeable

09:05 Noooo you don’t want it with Johnny Martin. You wont win. Yeah, walk away Ross

09:15 Careful around Lip too, or Speirs will materialize out of thin air and snap your neck

09:33 RICH. Don’t be scared of that douchebag, baby

09:43 What kind of question is that, there is nothing Lieb wants more!

09:50 It’s weird hearing Ross swear tho

10:26 Don’t argue with Johnny, baby. Also Roe OMG <3 Shane is freaking fit

10:43 Wow Lip is ripped

10:48 Oh no, poor baby. Lip leave him be ☹ </3

11:10 LOL I just noticed the drum by the door. It says ‘butts’ and it took me a seconds to realise it was for cigarettes. I am an adult (31-year-old married woman). I’ll laugh at the word butts if I want.

11:11 RICH

11:18 Lieb omg lol

11:39 RICH BABY NO! FUCK OFF ROSS! LEAVE HIM ALONE OR I WILL HAVE SPEIRS CUT YOU

11:52 I can’t take Ross seriously in those shorts. Hi-ho GTFO

12:07 Ew fuck off running up that, I’d just nope out like nah babe imma go chill with that sweet baby back in the butts cabin

12:18 Aw Dick <3 The juxtaposition of Dick as a leader compared to Sobel who sure he might be honing them into something formidable and skilled but he’s an asshole. He’s not a leader. He’s a bullying, abusive scumbag. Dick is an actual leader who protects them and supports them and encourages them and IHAVEALOTOFFEELINGSOK

12:43 You don’t deserve that sick jacket, Ross. Seriously. That is a boss jacket, I want it

13:04 Have they not stopped fucking working out all this time? Ugh

13:23 Oh good, Dick gets a boss jacket too. He deserves it.

13:30 I wish people had to ask me for permission to speak.

13:53 I just. He. I can’t with Dick Winters, you guys. I cannot. I have lost the ability to can. Like they’re so upset and tired and low and just with that little joke he boosts their morale back up from where Sobel fucking beat it down into the mud and makes everything lighter and they laugh and are less tense and I just. Fucking love you, Dick.

14:00 Is that my angel son? I see you Shifty, love you baby

14:03 RICH. DON’T TOUCH MY RICH.

14:07 Oh my God, address them yourself you weirdo, Ross. They’re right there, you’re right there! I had a colleague that used to do the same, would get me to speak to my employees for her when they were right there in front of her like… ‘can you tell x to do y for me pls…’ … I was like wtf you know you CAN talk to them… you won’t catch poor just by speaking to people lower down the pecking order

14:22 Fassy! Wtf they’re not supposed to drink? Dehydration is legit one of the most dangerous things, how tf can you turn them into high-key supersoldiers if they’re dehydrated? How is this man so dumb? The guy in front of Fassy tho omg. I bet Fassy’s boss wife Alicia Vikander won’t like her husband being treated that way… she’s so badass tho right?

14:26 He’s so dramatic! Ugh

15:11 Piss off omg

15:24 oh my DVD flipped its shit here, only picked back up at 16:30 don’t @ me

16:52 RICH WHAT ARE THEY DOING TO YOU RICH

17:21 Shifty my angel son

17:46 so sweet

18:04 Sink, babe, no he is the worst, stop

18:20 LOL no, he’s jel as fuck babe

18:32 NO FUN ALLOWED. Im sorry, that tie is so ugly

18:44 Simon Pegg??!!

18:51 Ross is so dramatic God shut up. it’s not a conspiracy, weirdo

19:10 “It’s a can of peaces, sir.” Iconic.

19:11 Dick’s tiny smile is equally iconic.

19:17 SHUT UP ROSS

19:44 He wants to be punched, I think, like he’s goading them. The sick fuck.

20:47 DON’T TRUST HIM, DICK!

21:02 ROE <3

21:31 Hoobler, aw <3

21:37 I warned you not to trust him, boys

21:54 Ah boys, oh no

22:04 RICH. Kick him, baby

22:17 Bull, punch him, seriously

22:24 Oh Luz <3

22:26 Yeah GTFO, suck it, bitch

23:06 Who is this? Fella’s hot

23:40 RICH. FASSY. WEB. TAB.

24:19 Suck it, Ross

24:30 Real footage?

24:41 Lol you suck Ross

25:23 RICH. SMOKING RICH.

25:26 Bill omg

25:45 Perco, baby, no. don’t talk to Johnny Martin. Don’t look at Johnny Martin. Don’t so much as think about Johnny Martin. He will fuck you up with his gaze alone, baby

25:56 Ah Luz

26:06 OK. That’s hot. Joe/Charlie don’t be hot. It confuses me

26:42 Winnix being husbands in the corner

27:42 YOU’RE in the wrong position, dumbass, it’s no one else’s fault

27:46 Dick’s come to save the day

27:56 Ross knows nothing omg

28:05 RICH. Even my Rich is confused, Ross, you dweeb

28:20 Lol at Dick dropping down ready for a fight

28:36 Fassy isn’t happy. That means Alicia Vikander is coming for you. Joe/Charlie is definitely not happy. Lip is upset. Think about your life, Ross, think about your choices. You know you’ve failed when Roe is judging you

28:57 Nix is like lol where tf is the alcohol tho

28:59 Harry! Harry is here! But yes, baby, you’re interrupting the husband’s foreplay, leave immediately

30:00 Lol at the Nix vs Ross staredown. Nix won

30:17 RICH. GUYS IT’S RICH

30:33 Do it, Lieb. Drop the grenade. Just don’t upset my angel son Shifty

30:40 He is a literal angel. Don’t corrupt him Lieb

30:59 Nix is having another crack at flirting. “Going my way” so suave omg. Omg stop. No wait don’t

31:09 “I’m not the intelligence officer.” Neither is Nix half the time babe let’s be fair

31:14 “If I told you I’d have to kill you.” Nix is getting better at flirting! He’s been attending flirting 101 classes it seems

31:40 They’re legit such husbands prove me wrong

32:00 He’s not joking, Dick

32:06 Harry’s like oh yay yes please

32:11 Lol Nix

33:03 Ugh. Men. I feel like that hold smells so bad.

33:09 RICH. Naw, Rich is sad he’s missing out on the flamingos.

33:32 Joe/Charlie you deserve a day to commemorate you tbh. I love you.

33:46 “My brother’s in North Africa, he says it’s hot.” Bill is iconic.

34:34 Lieb, honey, don’t, please

34:49 I feel you, random hot guy. Tipper?

35:05 Eyyy this place is nice, let’s all move there.

35:17 Shifty, my angel son, my baby <3

35:26 Yay, Harry gets a boss jacket too!

36:22 Mum and Dad of Easy. I’m low-key living for Lip’s little worried faces.

36:33 THAT JACKET IS SICK AS FUCK I WANT 20

36:38 The fence is there, Ross, because you’re so fucking dumb

36:51 Guys, look, cows

37:06 He’s fucking useless. Hi Simon Pegg.

37:22 RICH

37:25 This whole scene gives me life and waters my crop

37:31 RICH <3. YOU GUYS. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. RICH RICH RICCCCHHHH

37:42 Poor Tip is so done

37:58 Simon Pegg is so confused

38:04 Good job, Tipper, I’m proud of you and your pretty face

38:10 Iconic

38:15 Keep it together Tip

38:54 The hand signals, no, I’d be like BABY. WHAT. I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU WTF. I’d last like a millisecond in the military lmao. Does my country even have one? Tbh probably not. Us Kiwis are too chill, cbf’ed with anything. Too busy watching rugby, drinking, and sulking that we can’t afford houses cos our housing market is fucked. But at least we beat Covid *shrugs*

39:06 ILY, old guy. You are the best thing in this episode, aside from Rich

39:22 But wait, there’s more weird Americans hopping out yo’ bushes

39:26 “Bloody hell!” Mood

39:47 “You’ve done it now, yanks, you’ve captured me!” He is such a mood. I love him.

39:54 FUCK OFF ROSS. “Would that be the enemy?” “As a matter of fact, yes.” DICK IS SO VALID I LOVE HIM THIS IS ICONIC.

40:25 Be free, moo-cows

40:40 LAMO GET WRECKED

41:00 Guys imma be straight with you. I’m on my third whiskey lmao.

41:10 Simon Pegg, please refrain from being a douchebag. Leave Dick and his husband to flirt in peace.

41:23 I love how Nix is like instantly suspicious. He knows.

41:39 Worried husband

41:45 “Misspelled court-marital.” Iconic

42:14 Ross, why you lying? So threatened and jel that you gotta lie omg.

42:50 God Damien is freaking hot. Guys.

42:57 Punk bitch Ross.

43:22 Dick is so BDE. It’s fucking hot.

43:30 Ross is shooketh tbh. Punk bitch.

43:36 AH! IT IS HIM! THE GUY FROM LINE OF DUTY S5!

43:50 That underbite must have hurt FJH a lot omg so committed.

44:02 Hey Lip <3

44:09 Johnny Martin has absolute BDE

44:22 God they’re willing to be killed just to not follow Ross. Same tbh.

44:57 This whole scene is BDE.

46:00 But Sink has the most BDE let’s be honest

46:44 The respect for Dick. Even after what they just went through. I AM EMOTIONAL.

46:58 He’s so worried like omg what have my troublesome sons done now

47:09 ROSS WHY YOU ALWAYS LYING??

48:09 Weak

48:24 Yeah, fuck off back to ‘Murica

48:34 Legit, can we acknowledge Ross did a great job (the actor). Really really well done, one of the best performances on the series tbh.

49:48 LMAO GET WRECKED PUNK BITCH

50:06 Dick just wanders about a lot on his own, huh?

50:50 What? What? I understand nothing of what the cockney guy is saying.

50:55 Me too, Hoob, the fuck.

51:00 RICH I SAW YOU

52:19 “Never put yourself in a position where you can take from these men.” Don’t omg I can’t, Dick, I’m weak, I can’t deal with these fucking feelings.

52:36 DAFUQ

52:40 OHHHH I get it. Right. Dick, you’re so smart. It’s a little sad they have to do all that just to get some answers and guidance but tbh it’s probably fair? Gotta be top secret so punk bitches like Ross can’t screw things up.

53:30 Hey Nix. Speak French to me any day.

53:48 Unf.

54:08 LMAO Lieb, how many cigarettes do you need!

54:10 NGL I paused here for a little while.

55:05 We could ALL use some brass knuckles, Joe/Charlie. Mood.

55:25 LOL Lieb is so nosy.

56:15 Oh no

57:00 Luz LMAO

57:10 Oh babies

57:13 Bill LMAO that’s not ice cream, yuck it looks like soup

57:28 God. All that effort. Not just logistically but emotionally, mentally, psychologically, to prepare, just to have it put off. Fuck.

57:38 That movie again. Poor boys.

57:47 That’s actually a really smart move, Johnny.

58:41 Oh no. I would lose it completely. Oh Bill </3

59:11 Naw, Dick dawdling around again

59:49 RICH I SEE YOU

1:00:08 AAAHHHH IT’S TOO CONFRONTING DON’T

1:00:48 NOOO I CAN’T aw Bill

1:01:09 Naww

1:01:16 RIIIIICH

1:01:20 It’s like they’re kiddies on a field trip and Dick is the teacher wrangling them lol

1:01:47 Lol their crap is so heavy Dick has to help pull them up. That’s actually really sweet.

1:01:51 I wish I could hold Rich’s hand

1:02:08 Oh God. I can’t. Like he’s helping them up BUT IT’S ALSO HIS WAY OF SAYING GOOD LUCK AND GOODBYE AND HAVING LIKE A MOMENT TO CONNECT WITH EACH OF THEM I CAN’T LIKE THE EYE CONTACT NO DICK STOP

1:02:19 LMAO at them having to shove each other into the plane

1:02:23 That look between him and Roe. Ugh. Like. You two gotta take care of your boys together. Brotp

1:03:22 Can someone explain the block on that guy’s helmet to me?

1:03:55 I’m sad. And scared. This series is so confronting. I’ve watched in annually since I was like 16 and I’m still so nervous for them.

1:05:37 Rich, I see you! I recognized his chin lmao

1:06:16 God, Dick be careful

1:10:00 This show. The feels. Every time.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): Before His Birth, His Birth and His Childhood

The Dream of Abdulmuttalib

Years passed.

The noor (holy light) belonging to the Holy Prophet (PBUH) that shone on Abdulmuttalib’s forehead brought him to the station of Quraysh’s chieftainship.

It was a hot summer’s day…

He was sleeping by the Ka’ba on a shady spot in the location of Hijr. He saw a dream. In this dream, an individual called to him:

“Awake, and excavate Tayyiba!”

He asked, “Where is Tayyiba”?

However, the individual did not answer his question and walked away.

Abdulmuttalib, who woke up, got excited. Not having interpreted the dream, he spent the night wondering, “What did Tayyiba mean? What would excavating Tayyiba be like?”

The next day, he fell asleep at the same place. The same man reappeared and called:

“Awake and excavate Barra!”

Puzzled, Abdulmuttalib again asked, “Where is Barra?”

Once again, that man walked away without providing any answers.

Abdulmuttalib awoke from his sleep with much greater curiosity and excitement. Yet, he was unable to give meaning to what he saw. Again, he spent that day and night under the influence of his dream.

He slept in the same spot on the following day. The same man came to him and said, “Awake. Excavate Madnuna”.

In his deep sleep, Abdulmuttalib asked the man, “Where is Madnuna?” Yet again, the man walked away without an answer.

Abdulmuttalib’s curiosity and excitement reached its final level. He knew for certain that the dream he saw on end for three days was not meaningless. Nevertheless, he did not have the slightest clue as to what it meant.

Abdulmuttalib, who was asleep in the same spot on the fourth day, saw the same man’s arrival. This time the man called:

“Excavate the Zamzam!”

When Abdulmuttalib asked, “What and where is the Zamzam?” The man’s answer was,

“The Zamzam is a kind of water that never stops. It never reaches the bottom. With this, you will provide the pilgrims’ needs for water during Hajj. It is between the spot in the Ka’ba where the blood from the sacrifices are spilt and the place where their droppings are buried. A crow with multicolored wings comes and pecks there. There is an ant’s nest there as well”. 

This time happiness was attached to Muttalib’s excitement when he awoke because he obtained the clue to make sense of his dream. He heard the Zamzam well mentioned before many times. However nobody knew where it was because as the Jurhumies were escaping from Mecca’s invaders they threw all of Mecca’s valuable belongings into the Zamzam well, made the top of the well one with the soil, and brought it to an undistinguished condition. Since then, the name Zamzam was there yet the Zamzam itself was missing. 

Abdulmuttalib understood at last that he was appointed to find and unearth the Zamzam’s location. He immediately began to explore. He went to the place he learnt of in his dream. Meanwhile, he saw a crow with multicolored wings soaring and as it landed on the ground, it shuffled some place with its beak and afterwards, it took off towards the sky.

There was nothing to say for Abdulmuttalib’s happiness. He was going to attain the glory of finding and exposing the well (from the giver of life) that had been kept secretly for years. He determined the Zamzam’s location and it came turn to dig. He did not want to have this glory snatched by and to open this secret to someone else. For this reason, he took his only son, Haris, to the determined place and began to dig the next day. Awhile after some continuous digging, the Zamzam well’s woven wall stones and its circular opening appeared. Abdulmuttalib was joyful and excited. Naturally, he could not believe his eyes. Nevertheless, regardless of whether or not he believed his eyes, what appeared before him was a well’s opening. He began to recite Takbir, “Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!”

Abdulmuttalib and Quraysh’s Leading Figures

The Qurayshis were watching Abdulmuttalib’s activity from the beginning and when they realized what was about to come , they notified their elders. Sometime after, Quraysh’s elders came to the excavated site and said: “Oh, Abdulmuttalib! This is the well of our forefather, Ibrahim. We also have rights to this well. Let us partake in this task”.

Abdulmuttalib answered: “No, I cannot. This task has been assigned only to me and has been given to me from among you”.

The notables of Quraysh were not pleased with Abdulmuttalib’s finalized decision. From among them, Adiyy and Nawful spoke:

“You are a lonely man. You have nobody to rely on other than your only son. How is it that you defy and do not bow down to us?”

This remark burnt Abdulmuttalib inside because the Qureyshis were belittling him by saying he was desolate. He made his uneasiness exceedingly obvious, stayed quiet in sadness for some time, and then poured out his heart in this way:

“So, you are condemning me by saying I am lonely and desolate?”

When no answer came from his addressee and after thinking for some time, Abdulmuttalib opened his hands and turned his face towards the sky and said, “I swear that if Allah gives me 10 sons that I will sacrifice one of them by the Ka’ba” (3)

These words of Abdulmuttalib were a prayer, an oath, and an offering.

Going to Damascus

It was obvious that this incident was not going to end here. The situation was quite critical. Clashes had broken out many times due to such incidences. Because Abdulmuttalib knew this, he abandoned his excavation plan for a moment and offered to have the situation resolved by a judge. His offer was accepted.

They determined a judge by the name of Sa’d bin Huzaym, who resided in Damascus.

Abdulmuttalib took a few of his uncles by his side and went with a group that included the Qurayshi tribes’ leading figures towards Damascus.

However, the Divine fate stopped them before they entered Damascus. The water of Abdulmuttalib and those with him ran out in the middle of the burning desert. For them, this was much more dangerous than their most violent enemy. The leading figures of Quraysh refused Abdulmuttalib’s appeal by saying, “Our water is only enough for us”.

Abdulmuttalib and his kin found their lives in great danger. There was nothing they could do. Looking for water in the middle of the desert was no different than pursuing a mirage.

Abdulmuttalib Goes to Find Water

However, Abdulmuttalib mounted on his camel and tried to find water after all. The others started to wait for the moment they and their relatives would die of thirst.

However, what they expected did not happen. The camel of Abdulmuttalib, who was bearing the light of the Master of the Universe (Muhammad-pbuh), tripped on a large stone covered by dry grass while passing through a valley. The camel stumbled and the stone moved out of its place and rolled down. Ab­dul­mut­ta­lib could not believe his eyes. In the scorching desert, he saw water glittering in the hole that the stone moved out of!

He dismounted his camel. When he broadened the hole, the water started to flow rapidly. More water accumulated in the hole. He returned and shouted enthusiastically. “Come on! I have found water sufficient enough for you and for your animals!”

They became very happy as if they were born again. They went to the water and drank as much water as they could; then, they gave water to their animals.

At one point, Abdulmuttalib turned to the Qurayshis who did not give him water and said, “Come to the water! Allah gave us water. Both you and your animals should drink from it. Come, do not stand there, come!”

The Qurayshis approached the water with embarrassment. They drank heartily and had their animals drink from it as well. They spilt the old water from their leather bottles and refilled them with clean water.

As soon as the Qurayshis drank the clean and cool water that was offered to them by the one who excavated it, they immediately changed their attitudes. They turned to Abdulmuttalib feeling shameful and guilty and said, “Oh Abdulmuttalib, we do not have anything to say to you now. We understand that excavating the Zamzam is your right. You are the only one who is worthy of this task. By God, we will never hassle you on the topic of the Zamzam again. We no longer think it is necessary to see the judge”.

Without visiting the judge, they all returned to Mecca from the halfway point together. 

When Abdulmuttalib returned to Mecca, he continued excavating with his son, Harith, and extracted the Zamzam in a short time.

They Draw Lots for Valuable Goods  

There were some valuable goods that emerged from the Zamzam well. Among these goods, there were two deer statues made from gold, swords, and suits of armor (shields).

When the notables who left Abdulmuttalib the right to extraxt the Zamzam saw these valuable goods, their anger swelled and they stood over Abdulmuttalib once more. They said, “Oh, Abdulmuttalib, we have shared rights over these goods”.

At first, the generous and patient Abdulmuttalib rejected their wishes by saying, “No. You have absolutely no rights over these goods”. However, then, he put forth his generosity and chivalry and said, “I am going to behave gently towards you once more. Let us draw lots among ourselves”.

The Notables of Quraysh were pleased by this and asked: “Fine, but how and in which manner are you going to draw lots?”

Abdulmuttalib explained the procedure that was to be followed: “We will draw two lots for the Kaa’ba, two lots for me, and two lots for you. Whatever comes up for whichever party will belong to them and if nothing comes up, then, that party will be deprived.”

This method was an unbiased solution. For this reason, the Qurayshis were pleased and they commended Abdulmuttalib’s behavior and said, “Truthfully, you have acted in a merciful manner”.

They went next to the Hubal statue in the Kaa’ba and drew lots. Once more, the drawing proved that the Notables of Quraysh had no rights over these valuables. The golden deer statues were left to the Ka’ba; Abdulmuttalib won rights over the swords and armor, (5) and the notables’ share was deprivation. They no longer had something to oppose and the matter was resolved in this way.

After having the swords and armors forged into sheet, Abdullmuttalip covered the door of the Kaa’ba with it. Thus, he became one of the people who adorned the Kaa’ba with gold.

Abdulmuttalib was at the perfect age of 40 when he extracted the Zamzam well.

Thirty years later, his number of sons became 10 thanks to the endowment of God Almighty. Meanwhile, he remembered the promise he had made many years ago: to sacrifice one of his sons by the Kaa’ba. However, which one should he sacrifice? All of them were more wonderful and loveable than the other. However, Abdullah was much different.

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 7 - Stories

Varian sat in the spacious den surrounded by piles and piles of books; comic books to be specific. Today was the last day of spring break and Varian was visiting Fred. All of their other friends were busy preparing for tomorrow, but Fred didn’t go to any of the actual classes. He only worked part-time as the school’s mascot, so he had the day free and wanted to teach Varian more about his hobby. 

Varian, for his part, was simply bored. He had agreed to meet with Fred since he had spent so much of the last week studying and wanted a break before starting classes for real, but the pages of illustrated stories, about people with god-like powers, just didn’t really interest him. 

It made him feel a little guilty really. Fred was so passionate about his interest, much like how Varian enjoyed science, and Varian appreciated that the older teen cared enough to try and include him in that. However, it didn’t stop him from zoning out while Fred rambled on about yet another story or character that Varian had no reference for. 

He looked about the room with half-lidded eyes as he rested his face upon his fist. Fred lived in a large mansion. It wasn’t quite as big as Corona’s palace, nor even the size of the castle he grew up in, but it was still very grand and luxurious. Various memorabilia and expensive décor were scattered about and the room he was in now had tons of unique statues, toys, and posters on display referencing various things within pop culture. He assumed they would make for an impressive collection, if he knew what any of them actually were. 

“….and so that is how Captain Fancy teamed up with the Fearless Ferret!"  

Varian tuned back in just in time to hear Fred conclude his story. 

"Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s real interesting” Varian yawned and stretched as he said this, giving away his true feelings on the matter. Then he tried to course correct as soon as he did so. 

“Look, Fred, this is all…great, but wouldn't it be better if I just, you know, actually read the stories for myself?” He gently suggested. 

“Oh, yeah…I guess I kind of got carried away.” Fred admitted sheepishly. “Ok, then, what did you think about the comics that you’ve read already?” He sat down, facing backwards, upon a swivel office chair as he referred to the two comics that he had bought for Varian on his first day in San Fansokyo. 

“They were fine.” Varian said. 

Fred leaned in closer, waiting for more but Varian didn’t elaborate. 

“Fine? Just fine? You don’t got anything else to add?”

Varian could only shrug in response. He didn’t know what else to say. They were okay stories but not anything to get excited over. They were certainly no Flynn Rider, that was for sure. 

“Well what about Miracle Maiden? What did you think of her?" 

That was one of the superheroes from the comic he had read. She was a princess from the deep Amazon rain-forest who took an ancient magic spear and armor and traveled from her home to fight against those that wanted to destroy it, helping others along the way. 

"Well, she was neat, I guess.” Varian admitted. “I liked how she was also figuring out how the world worked since she’d never left home before. That made her kind of relatable, I just didn’t care for the magic armor giving her super strength. It made her too unbeatable, no one was a real threat; there was no tension."  

Fred tilted his head in confusion. He’d never considered that to be a flaw. Superheroes were supposed to be well, super, after all. 

"Oookay, so maybe OP golden age style comics aren’t your thing.” Fred consented, “What about the dark aged comic you read, ‘The Avenger’?" 

"Oh, I liked that one a lot better. The hero in that had to really struggle and figure stuff out. He didn’t have any powers and the villains were more believable." 

"I’d call him more of an anti-hero,” Fred interrupted, “but go on." 

The story in question concerned an ex-soldier whose family had been murdered by a rich and powerful man. The villain had used his influence to escape prison and so 'The Avenger’, as he called himself, sought vengeance and along the way helped other poor exploited people get their own revenge against similar oppressors. 

"He was relatable too, but in a different way. I just thought the pictures were a little too…graphic.” Varian grimaced as he said that last word. He had always disliked the sight of blood and while the images in the book had only been drawings, they nevertheless were still very in-your-face with the violence and somewhat disturbing to look at. He hadn’t been able to get through the comic without skipping some pages.

“You found a guy, who kills a whole bunch of people, relatable?” Fred asked slowly, trying to piece together what Varian had seen that he had not. 

“Well, he lost his family.” Varian said in his defense. 

“Yeeeah, but that just makes him sympathetic. In order for him to be relatable you’d also have to have lost … your… ” Fred paused in mid-sentence and looked at the young boy sitting across from himself. Varian held an unreadable expression, something between a pout and a confused glare, and something inside Fred warned him not to continue with that thought. 

“Aaaannyways,” Fred said, trying to change the subject, “you like non-super powered heroes, but no gore, so why don’t I lend you one of my Fearless Ferret comics.” And with that the blonde teen hopped up off the chair and went scrounging about the room in search of said book. 

As he was throwing various comics and toys around in his quest, Fred tossed a small hardback novel that landed right at Varian’s feet. He had to move them out the way quickly before the flying object could do any harm. He looked down at the offending book rudely, but then his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. 

The novel was battered and worn from years of use and the title read The Brothers Grimm on the side. But what caught Varian’s attention was the cover on its front. It bore the image of a girl in a crumbling tower. She sat at the only window forlornly looking out as her long golden hair tumbled down to the ground below. 

“Rapunzel.” Varian breathed. 

“What?” Fred stopped what he was doing at the sound, but Varian had whispered too low for him to hear it clearly. 

“What is this?” Varian asked frantically. His heart pounding in his chest he held up the book for Fred to see. 

“Oh that? That’s just an old book of fairy tales I read as a kid." 

"Fairy tales?" 

"Yeah, you know, old folk tales, like Little Red Riding Hood, Rumpelstiltskin, Hansel and Gretel,” Fred turned back to his original search as he absentmindedly listed off the stories he knew, “The Bremen Town Musicians, Rapunzel, that sort of thing." 

Varian’s eyes went wide at that last title and he tore open the book and desperately flipped through its pages until he found the accursed name. It was printed in big bold letters at the top of the page and underneath was the story itself printed in smaller type. On the opposite page was another illustration. This one featured the titled character using her hair like a rope as a man used it to scale the tower. They were both dressed in clothing from centuries past that would have been considered old fashioned even in Varian’s own time.

Varian just stared at the page for a minute or two as his brain tried to comprehend what he was seeing. 

"This, this can’t be.” He whispered to himself, “How is this here? Why is this here?” He grew increasingly louder as his confusion gave away to anger. “How come she gets a story!? " 

He jumped up from the couch he was sitting upon as he yelled this last question, which finally drew Fred’s attention away from his rummaging. 

"You ok dude?" 

"No, I’m not okay! That no-good, lying, boil-brained, misbegotten, dizzy-eyed, promise breaker has been immortalized in print!” He yelled before glancing back down at the book he was holding, “And they didn’t even get the story right!” He whined after. 

Fred could only look on in confusion as Varian launched into another rant. This one about the inaccuracies within the folk tale as he sped read through the story; “Where’s the flower? Where are the rocks? Ha! I wish the King knew he was portrayed as a dirty thief. Eugene’s not a prince! Ew, I don’t why but having your eyes gouged out sounds worse than getting stabbed. Does Rapunzel not have powers in this?”

As he was busy loudly complaining, a viewing screen up on the opposite wall turned on and the image of an old man appeared. He had slicked backed white hair, a white mustache, and his eyes were covered by sunglasses. 

“Is everything alright son?” The man queried. “I thought I heard the sound of someone shouting an evil monologue over the surveillance system?" 

"Oh hey, Dad!” Fred turned to address the viewing screen while Varian continued on, heedless of who was listening or not, “It’s okay. It’s just my new friend Varian here is apparently really passionate about fairy tales." 

"Really? Cause he sounds like a super-villain to me.”

“Aww naw, you got it all wrong he’s just upset cause he doesn’t like the story.” As if to prove this, Fred turned back to Varian interrupting him mid-rant. “Hey, Varian, why do you hate Rapunzel so much?" 

Varian stopped and turned to them. His eyes narrowed into an intense glare and his voice dropped to low guttural growl. 

"She is my mortal enemy.” He said darkly. 

He held their gaze for a moment or two in uneasy silence, before once again noticing yet another inaccuracy upon the page. “Oh, that’s not right!” and he launched into a new wave of angry ranting. 

As he went on, outraged, father and son could only look on in perturbed confusion. 

“Are you sure he’s not a super-villain?” Mr. Fredrickson asked, neither of them being able to tear their eyes away from the sight of the small raged filled teen. 

“Preeety sure…” his son replied in a tone of voice that conveyed that he was anything but. 

Fred continued to watch Varian raving as his brain tried to process what had just happened.

“Waaait a minute, if you know the real Rapunzel, then that must mean you’re from a world of fairy tales.” He slowly said as he pieced together the clues. “Which means there must be magic and if there’s magic then there must be..” Fred audibly gasped with joy and ran to Varian, grabbing the younger boy by the shoulders and snapping him out of mid-rant. 

“Do you have dragons in your world!? " 

Varian could only look back at Fred with surprise at first. "What? No!” he snapped back. 

Here he was, in the middle of having an existential crisis, and all his friend could do was ask about mythical creatures? 

“There’s no such thing as dragons.” He firmly added before Fred could protest. The older teen looked crestfallen but soon perked back up as he started in on a new line of questioning. 

“But there is magic, right?" 

"Unfortunately, yes.” Varian said through gritted teeth. 

“Are you magic then?” Fred asked, as he circled around Varian and picked up his arm by its sleeve and inspected the length of it. 

“No.” Varian answered, now disturbed. 

“Then how come you got that blue streak in your hair? Do all people from your world have that?" 

Varian looked up at his bangs and then quickly covered said streak with his free hand. "No.” He said, this time less assured. 

In truth he didn’t know where his defining blue hair stripe came from. He had had it for as long as he could remember, and had always assumed he got it in an alchemy accident when young. But he didn’t know for sure, and he didn’t like to dwell too much on the subject. 

“Oh do you know anyone who has magic, then? Like, do you know any other fairy tale people, like Red Riding Hood or Mother Goose? Oh Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk was always one of my favorites!” Fred pressed on. 

“No!" 

Fred backed away at the sudden ferociously in Varian’s voice. 

"My life’s not a fairy tale Fred!” Varian added just to drive the point home. 

“Sorry, man.” Fred said timidly. He hadn’t meant to upset the younger teen, but he knew he could sometimes get carried away. 

Varian’s anger all but disappeared at that admission. Fred looked genuinely upset and he suddenly felt guilty for his outburst. It wasn’t his new friend’s fault for not knowing what hell his life had been for the last two years. 

“Look, I’m…I’m sorry too, it’s just…I hate magic. Okay?” He tried to explain.

Fred looked thoughtful at that, as if he had never considered that point of view before. 

“Well, if you hate magic…Oh I bet you would love science fiction then!” He exclaimed. 

Varian looked bewildered at the sudden change in subject, but Fred continued on excitedly. 

“We should watch the greatest sci-fi show ever!” Fred ran over to a shelf and pulled off a small thin case and held it up for Varian to see, “Professor What!" 

"What?” Varian asked, still confused.

“Exactly! It’s about a mysterious professor, who’s really a shape-shifting alien, who has a time machine that’s also a spaceship and he fights other aliens and…”

“Okay, okay” Varian interrupted. He agreed to go along with Fred’s idea if nothing else than to stop the older teen from launching into yet another confusing ramble. 

Fred flashed Varian a wide grin at that and then bid his father goodbye before opening the case and inserting a small shiny disc into the viewer screen. He then dimmed the lights and both he and Varian settled down on the couch to watch the video. 

“We’ll just watch the first episode and then go from there.” He said to Varian as odd sounding music filtered through the air and the opening titles flashed before them on the screen. But Varian wasn’t paying much attention. 

His mind raced as he was still agitated by the existence of the book. He couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t even a case of being an alternate version of Rapunzel herself. Fred had acted like the whole story was simply just made up. As if he, himself, was nothing but fiction. What’s more the story hadn't mention him, his father, nor the rocks and he didn’t know if this made the situation better or worse. 

He took a steadying breath and tried to focus on the screen ahead of him, shoving any uncomfortable questions to the back of his mind. 

The tv show was more of the moving pictures he had seen on the internet. Only this looked to be a recording of a staged play instead of the simple funny shorts of animals that he had only seen thus far. There was also no color, which Fred explained was because the film was so old. 

The story of the play concerned two school teachers, Cliff and Lola, who followed their new mysterious student home one day, only to stumble upon a bigger mystery. The student, Sue, reminded him of himself. She was super smart but ignorant of what was, to the teachers, common knowledge and it was no surprise when it was revealed that both she and her equally mysterious grandfather, the titular Professor, were from another world. What was a surprise was the way they traveled. 

The two teachers forced their way into a small box, no bigger than a magician’s cabinet, only to find a larger room on the inside. Said box was called a phone booth, which used to be used by people before cell phones came about, but the inside was called a STARDIS, a Space, Time, And Relative Dimensions Imperial Ship.

“You mean to tell me that a thing that looks like a phone booth, sitting in the middle of a scrapheap, can travel anywhere through time and space?” He heard the science teacher, Cliff, say incredulously before the impish Professor mischievously pressed a button on the console of the machine, locking the doors and turning the ship on. 

A swirl of stars and flashing lights appeared on screen, and like a magic trick, the box was no longer in a junkyard but an icy desert. A looming shadow then appeared and the screen cut to black as the odd music from before started to play and names flew up on the screen. 

“What, what happened? Why did it stop?” Varian asked Fred. He was just starting to get interested when it had ended. 

“Oh that was only the first episode, you gotta watch multiple in order to get the whole story." 

"You mean like chapters in a book? Can, can we watch the next one?" 

"You mean you like it?” Fred asked delightedly. 

“Well I don’t dislike it, besides I’d at least like to know what that shadow was.” Varian admitted. 

So they watched the next three parts. The group of time travelers had been transported to an ancient era, back when man still lived in caves. They were captured by a tribe and forced to make fire for them, all the while being caught in the middle of an ongoing power struggle for leadership. Varian didn’t find the politics of the cavemen particularly interesting but he did find himself on the edge of his seat whenever the STARDIS crew were on screen. 

He found them all compelling. The shifty Professor and his grey morals, doing whatever he could to survive and keep his granddaughter safe; Sue’s own fear of being separated from her only family and her mysterious ability for premonitions; Lola’s homesickness and exasperation at being cut off from civilization paired with her compassion for all living beings, even her oppressors; and the noble hero Cliff holding the team together while adhering to science and logic even while having his entire world view challenged.

In the last part they finally escaped the violent cavemen and made it back to the ship. They quickly took off, only to land on another planet entirely. The screen hovered over the console and a dial on the dashboard dropped down into the danger zone indicating all was not well before once again cutting to black and playing the ending credits. 

“Welp, that’s it!” Fred cheered. He stood up and stretched and went to take the disc out and put it up. 

“That’s it!?” Varian asked disbelievingly. “But what about that new planet and the dial? Do Cliff and Lola ever get home? How was Sue able to sense that her grandfather was in trouble? Also why is he only called the Professor? Does he not have a name? Where did he get the ship? Did he build it? Is he a scientist too like Cliff is?” The questions tumbled out of him in a jumble. He had never seen anything like it before and couldn’t remember being so excited to find out more since the time he read his first Flynn Rider book.

Fred laughed, “So you do like it! Don’t worry there’s more episodes, just that’s the end of that particular serial. The next one is a seven parter though, and you got school tomorrow, remember?" 

Varian did remember and his stomach did a little flip flop at the thought. 

"I tell you what though,” Fred continued, “I’ve always wanted to do a marathon of the whole show in order. If you’re still interested we could maybe meet up sometimes and watch it together?" 

Varian had never had a project that he could do with a friend before, nor someone to share his love of stories with, so the idea appealed to him. Therefore it was agreed; sometime next week they would meet up to watch the next serial and then possibly one day every week after that to watch the rest. 

So the day ended with Fred dropping Varian back off at the dorms and with him organizing his things for his first day of school. His excitement for tomorrow drove  away any more thoughts of comics, tv shows, or fairy tales. Stories were fun, but none compared to the weirdness of his actual life.

[yukikorogashi]

💞💖💘💕 don't have to do them all if you don't want to, this just seems cute!

Positivity meme (Slowly Accepting)

Send 💞 and my muses will say something nice about your muse

   FOR AS NERVOUS AS SHE WAS, there was no denying just how EXCITED she still was-- as she began making way up to the front of the classroom itself. Having even gone through the effort of asking for both her uncles’ feedback, when it came to both her written and oral presentation. Both-- that have certainly needed quite some reworking, as expected. Still, however, that night would prove itself to be exhausting and yet, surprisingly fun. Especially as she sat there and listened to TWO VERY DIFFERENT POINT OF VIEWS on the subject matter itself. Now rewritten and even typed out from the FAMILY TYPEWRITER itself (That she had an absolutely BALL typing on-- that was, until Uncle Hosea stepped in due to the typos she kept making). she was ready. At least, so she wanted to believe... as she looked over her entire class, and over towards her teacher then. As she straightened the essay held firmly within her very hands, Itsuki would clear her throat, straighten her back one more time, and began:

   “Ah ‘ave dreamed about the day dat ah would get ta find a place ah could call mah very own HOME. An’ yet, little did ah know dat he would come in the form of a man named ARTHUR MORGAN. A kind, an’ hardworkin’ man, WHOM ah had only gotten da chance ta meet wit’. When he had paid a visit to the ORPHANAGE-- jus’ so he could HELP OUT. An’ while he ain’t all dat-- oof, sorry-- is not much of a talker, his ACTIONS always spoke louder than words. The day we got ta meet an’ sit ta-gether at the swings, would be the beginnin’ of the BEST DAYS of mah life. As ah would soon enough, be allowed ta call this man... mah own FATHER.

    Now, as ah had mentioned earlier, mah pa-- mm, ‘cuse me-- father, is a hardworkin’ man. Who always gets up before the crack of every dawn, and works his fingers to the bone. On the ranch that he near singlehandedly takes care of. An’ despite that, mah pa still finds the time ta watch o’er me, an’ help me out wit’ mah homework, whenever need it. Every moment we get to spend ta-gether is an ADVENTURE. Even when it comes ta preparin’ DINNER, you’d ‘ave ta be there ta believe it.

  Ah love my pa, an’ uhm just so grateful ta ‘ave him in mah life. He makes me so PROUD ta be his DAUGHTER.”

   And she could only hope, that he felt the same way about her.

   AND SO WOULD THE REALISATION strike her, so much so like a bolt of lightning shot down from the VERY HANDS OF ZEUS himself. For despite having known the other far longer than she had any other soul in these past few centuries. Kassandra was still far less inclined to openly express herself these days, when compared to how her younger self would most likely have had... so very long ago. Grimacing to herself then as she remembered her attempts. Of the words that she had dared deemed SACCHARINE, Kassandra believed then that it was perhaps for the best that she had long since grown past... such ways.

   “Something nice, you say...” It wasn’t to say that she had nothing at all to say (The complete opposite, in fact), but simply struggled to string those words together in a coherent enough manner, right then and there, “Hm, let me see...” 

   “It has been so long since I have met a man like him. A man as loyal as he. That by the Gods themselves, it almost makes the HEIREIAI’S own actually PALE in comparison.” Remembering back to the very day that he had come to her aid, Kassandra’s first impression of these lands had definitely been salvaged thanks to him. Unlike those MALAKAS to which she had been more than glad to offer a MUCH NEEDED PAY BACK to, later on. “He is a good man...” A wonderful man, A GREAT MAN, in fact. Especially to this Spartan warrior. These few simple words... to which she would continue to struggle in openly expressing, save through a soft gaze from her. Or a touch from calloused fingertips themselves.

   Drifting off for a moment with a gentle purse of her lips, Kassandra’s eyes would then wander off to where he would now stand. As a more evident smile would begin to make its way upon already thoughtful features.

   “... one who has made me smile, if not laugh, so many times now since I have arrived here...” As it became apparent that some playful rough housing had since begun to take place between him and one of the other gang members, Kassandra would snort as she continued to watch them off from the side, “... And one whom I cannot possibly imagine NOT having in my life.”

Send 💖 and my muses will say something nice about you, the mun

   “... Naw way... is dat... is dat rea-leh ya???” Oh Goddess, just look how much they have changed since she had last met them. As Itsuki would begin to amble through the thick snow, so would a brilliant squeal would leave her as she flopped forward and threw her arms around them in greeting, “It is yoooou! Oh, Rory, it’s been AGES! It’s so good ta see ya again!!!” All too abruptly however, would she stop in her hopping (Humorously sluggish considering how much snow there was out here, but all the same as ENERGETIC as it possibly could be), and give the most POWERFUL POUT that she could muster up at them, “Hmph! Took ya long enough ta visit! Didn’ ah tell ya dat ah was gonna cook us the yummiest din-din da next time ya dropped by? ... Wait, ah didn’? ... Well then.” Wasting no more time then, so would the child begin to guide them back to her hut. With their hand held in her well-worn, but all the soft white mitten. It would offer some semblance of warmth from the cold itself, before a far greater source of heat from the fireplace greeted them from beyond the hut’s entrance drapes.

   “C’mon, sit yerself down, now! Ya need a break frum all’a dat hard work ya’ve been puttin’ in, oh, ah can tell! An’ ‘ave ya been gettin’ enough sleep?” Itsuki simply couldn’t take her eyes off them, as she began setting everything up. Grinning over to them every now and then, as she got the bowls and utensils ready. “Omgosh ah jus’... ah nearly didn’ recognise yer fer a second, y’know? But... ah know it’s ya, da moment ah took a good look at dem PEEPERS of yers! Still as purteh as da last time ah saw am, hehe! Oh-- uhm jus’ so glad ta see dat y’ve been doin’ so well fer yerself, y’know? Ah mean-- ah heard ‘bout how yer doin’ fer da sis. But, uhm so glad dat ah can finall-eh see it fer m’self! An’ jus’ tell ya how PROUD ah am of ya! Yer jus’ kickin’ so much BUTT out there, an’ it shows!”

   As she handed a large bowl of OHAW over to them, Itsuki would still continue to chatter excitedly away.

   “Ya gotta share wit’ me what ya’ve been studyin’ over thar, hehe! Please!”

   A KNOWING SMILE would begin to grace her lips, as she acknowledged the other with the slightest nod of her head. "And so, do we finally meet... Come, sit with me.” And as she would say those words, the immortal swore that she could hear IKAROS’ near indignant squawk amidst the red cardinals, bluejays, and goldfinches that have chosen to brave the coldest of seasons itself. To which she would silently offer a half-hearted apology, and a sigh through her nose in remembrance. For it was a pity, seeing as he would have liked them. 

   “... Malaka, it amazes me just how well you are able to withstand this cold during every single year!” The statement would leave her in an almost boisterous sort of bark, one that clearly bore jest (While also most likely causing any nearby to jump). If not a desire to lighten the somewhat awkward air between them. After all, while they have known one another for quite some time now-- it would only be now, that they would be allowed to meet one another FACE-TO-FACE. And all thanks to the FATES themselves-- and of course, one other soul that couldn’t be there, right then. “I have most certainly heard a great deal about you, Rory. A shame that it is only now that we would finally have the chance to meet, no?” For their eyes would bear a striking resemblance to the FIESTY CHILD that she would hold near and dear to her heart, after all this time.

   “Now, let me see... Allow this great and powerful immortal to peer into your very soul~” Even as she would snort at her little half-joke, the woman would continue to study the other intently. Reaching out to brush some strands away from their forehead, as she continued to smile down at them. Her expression almost unreadable, before another eventually nod followed, with this one being one of the UTMOST APPROVAL, "Ah, so the tales are true.” Carrying on in her theatrics, Kassandra would sit back ever so slightly as she lifted the STAFF OF HERMES TRISMEGISTUS up to the skies themselves, “You-- Rory--bear the SOUL OF A WARRIOR. A flame that has burned and braved through much.” As she would settle her free hand back upon their shoulder, that mirthful expression was almost comforting. Once again, knowing for all that she had seen, and yet, bearing such WARMTH that she had since begun to offer to only very few, “There is so much waiting up ahead of you, Rory. So much that we are all so excited to see you accomplish... And so, accept this one piece of advice from me: Keep fighting. Promise me this, will you?”

Send 💘 and the mun will say something nice about your muse

   I will never forget the day when Rory and I started talking about you, after watching that very first trailer that featured you, Mister Morgan. We had such high expectations, and good lord, did you blow it all COMPLETELY OUT OF THE WATER! Heh, like, you aren’t just a handsome outlaw, are you? You ended up being so, SO MUCH more than that. And I thank the lord each day that Rory chose to pick you up as a much. And do SO MUCH JUSTICE when it comes to their HEARTFELT PORTRAYAL of you. We have had so many amazing interactions together, and one of the best things I got to be blessed with over these past years was Itsuki finally getting to have such a wonderful man as her father! And of course, not only that... I see you spending some time with a certain Grecian lady~ Oh, you know the one I’m talking about ~ 😏

   You are most certainly one of the most comforting presences to see now on this site... especially when times are admittedly as rough as they are. And, I hope you know how always make Itsuki’s day, whenever you choose to comment or pop in her inbox to say hi or chastise her, hehe. I just always love seeing you around on my dash, Mister Morgan. And don’t think I forgot those sweet words you left for me on my old blog during one rough day I had. I just wish I had been able to keep a digital copy of it, truth be told. But I will most certainly never ever forget them. 

   Now, forgive me for ending this off like a typical fangirl. But we love you, YES WE DOOOOO!!! And sorry, sir. But I’m gonna have to break social distancing and give you a big ol’ hug now... And of course, thank you so much for the JELLYBEANS! c:

Send 💕 and the mun will say something nice about you, the mun

   WHEW, I’m sorry this took awhile, but I really wanted to make sure that I got all of this done properly (Especially with ol’ Kassandra, hahaha!). But oh man, oh man... Rory, please. You know what this is going to lead to. When it comes to me gushing about you. Say something nice? ONE THING? PUH-LEASE! You are one of my bestest friends, Rory... and I get so choked up, no matter how many times I say that. I thought you were going to be one of those super cool folks that I was going to just admire from afar. But no, the Gods themselves must be smiling down upon me because we ended up talking and well, the rest is history. We have done so SO MUCH together over the years that it still amazes me to this day, tbh... During some days when we reminisce together, another memory pops up that makes us go “HOLY SHIT, OH YEAH!!!” I am just so happy that we can talk about nearly anything, you know? How we can connect on so many things, tbh. No matter what the subject is, I swear-- we always get into some long-ass conversations, and I just love that so much!!! 

   But oh, what the heck am I doing? I’m suppose to be saying nice things about YOU! And the stuff before is just cheating, so get to it, Becky! Like, Rory... you are just an amazing friend to everyone that knows you tbh. A person that everyone is so lucky to have in their corner. I know so many people feel the same way as me, and can never express their gratitude enough for all that you have done for them as a friend. You are just such a kind, patient, genuine, and empathetic person, and that is honestly so damn rare to find in people these days. Which is why I am always so grateful that I can open up to you on my worst days, and especially when you yourself are so wonderful as to reach out to me and give me a hug first... I’m such a weenie that has since started to huddle in her corner. So when I hear you from behind me, tapping gently on my shoulder the way you do... I’m so grateful, Rory. I truly am...

   And not only that, you know by now that I stan TF out of your writing, and think that you are one of the most amazing writers I have ever known! You know I enjoy tf out of every interaction I get to have with you. Ever amazing interaction we get to have between our muses. And honestly, I will always be one of your biggest fans. Who will be booing and hissing at those who are too blind to see quality when its right in front of them! You are honestly such an intelligent, hardworking and talented individual, Rory... And I can’t say that enough, tbh. If you ever wrote and published a book one day, you KNOW I’m gonna be the first one to preorder it! So you better tell me when you do... catfish? B(

   But just in case I don’t find a good Christmas or EOY meme... I hope you know much I cherish you, bud. How proud I am to bear witness to how far you have come over these past years. I am literally already vibrating here for the day you graduate too tbh. Like ohhhh, I think I need to do a video recording to YELL over just how proud I am when that day comes for you!!! Please continue to fight with all your might, okay, bud? We are all cheering you on, and ofc, I’m always here whenever you need a breather from that tough ass battle. I love you so much, and can’t wait to our next chat on Discord!!!

[tisfan]

Accountability

Title: Accountability Square: K2 - Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier Warning: coffee shop AU, unrepentant fluff Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Summary: Tony wants to have a stable relationship by New Year’s Eve. Well, Bucky’s here to hold him accountable. Link: A03 Word Count: 2,199 For @tonystarkbingo and @aoifelaufeyson

A/n - not responsible for tooth decay.

“Coffee, Black, extra, extra large. And put a few shots in it,” Bucky’s first customer of the day said.

“Resolution?”

“Ton- what?”

“What’s your resolution, for New Years,” Bucky asked.

“You’re going to write that on my cup? You know you’re going to have people in here fighting for the cup of ‘go to the gym more’ by ten a.m.”

“It’s called accountability,” Bucky said, loftily. “If everyone sees you in the coffee shop with -- what did you say it was?”

“I didn’t. But-- I’d-- I had a shitty night, and my New Year’s kiss was a joke. I’d like to have a real relationship, this year.”

“Get a significant other,” Bucky wrote dutifully on the cup, then Bl, xxg 2sh on the side under it.

He handed the cup off to Sam, who started pulling shots and getting the drink line moving. Wanda rang up the sale, and Bucky went on to the next customer, who, true to SO’s prediction, had lose twenty pounds as their resolution. Not gonna happen if you keep drinking large lattes, extra whip, sugar.

Bucky’s idea started conversations; at least half a dozen people pulled out their phones when Call Mom More Often picked up her Americano. Two people found workout or walking partners. People lingered in the shop to talk about it; lingering people bought more coffee or muffins. And word spread, the way it tended to do. By lunch, the line was thirty deep.

“Man, I hate you,” Sam said, as Bucky passed yet another cup along.

(more under the cut)

Get an SO came up at least three times to get a refill, spending most of the morning poking his tablet industriously, taking advantage of the free wifi. In the relatively dead period just after lunch, while Bucky was clearing off tables, he asked, “So, how do you go about keeping people accountable?”

“Really? I don’t,” Bucky said. He picked up the chair, turned it around and straddled it. “You do it. Once you say it, and someone says it back to you, it’s halfway to being a fact.”

“Is that a fact?”

“It’s psychology,” Bucky said. “The power of saying things outloud.”

“Which is why you… work in a coffee shop, instead of having an office and clients on your couch?”

Bucky only chuckled. “I’m still in school, hot shot. Plus, I like my job. Talking to customers, getting to know people. Testing my threshold for some wall street tool’s dickish behavior. Means I’ll be able to handle him when he’s in my chair, wondering why he still ain’t got a date.”

Sig Other waved a hand near his forehead. “Yeah, okay, you got me. We’re square now?”

“Actually, no,” Bucky said. “Tell you what, why don’t you prove you’re being accountable. Bring your first dates here. Coffee shop meet ups are the thing, and I’ll see you’re taking my advice seriously.”

“You’re going to give me dating advice?”

“You can tell a lot about a person from what they order at the coffee shop,” Bucky told him.

“And what, pray, does my order say about me?”

“Mostly? That you should probably get more sleep. That whatever you do keeps you busy; you don’t have time to be fussy about your coffee. Black’s easy. Hard for someone else to fuck it up. You don’t strike me as the kind of coffee snob who wants black because he pretends he knows shit about the beans and roasting. You probably drink red wine, or scotch. Forget to eat more than you want to admit. And you don’t have very many close friends.”

By the time he was done bullshitting the guy -- playing Sherlock was fun, but it was no more true than Wanda and her tarot cards -- Sig Other’s eyes were huge.

“Okay, you convinced me,” he said. “I’ll bring my dates in. You tell me which ones to bring back.”

Bucky hadn’t actually expected Sig Other to come back, much less return with a date. He wasn’t even sure, after the first week of January was over, that he’d have remembered the guy. Waiting on more than five hundred customers a day, it took a lot of repeat business before he usually recognized anyone in more than that vague way of seeing thousands of faces. Even longer before he knew names.

But orders, for whatever reason--

“Oh, hey, Extra Grande, black, right?”

Those brilliant brown eyes, almost the same color as the heart of an espresso pull, lit up. “Hey, it’s the Accountability Guru,. Yeah, please. And--” He gestured and a very lovely woman stepped up behind him.

She was willow, brunette, and way overdressed for a coffee date. Her haircut probably cost more than Bucky made in tips during the day. She glanced up from her phone for a few moments to ponder the menu. “Raspberry latte,” she said. “With the art on it? And a biscotti.”

Bucky wrote the orders down, passed them on. “Do the swan,” he told Wanda. She was the best latte artist they had, not that many people bothered to look into their cups before heading out the door. Might as well give Sig Other a head start, right?  

He watched them between customers, Sig Other keeping a proper date-space for a first meeting, asking questions and appearing interested in her answers.

When she bothered to give them. Mostly she poked her phone. Took a picture of her latte. A selfie. A picture with Sig. Cackled over some responses to her social media of choice. Tipped her screen toward Sig a few times so he could share in the joke.

They stayed about twenty minutes, and then she got up and he saw her to the door and her taxi. A moment later, he was leaning on the pastry counter.

“No,” Bucky said, flatly.

“No?”

“She was dressed way too nice,” Bucky said. “She expected you to wine and dine her. She’s in it for the money. I assume there is some?”

“You could say,” Sig said. “You didn’t like her? She seemed friendly to me.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Bucky said, then turned his phone toward Sig. “She dissed out my coffee artist. Real friendly.”

It hadn’t taken him long to find the instagram, not when she tagged the shop by name. Run of the mill coffee art. There was more, mostly talking about her date, but Bucky didn’t bother to read that.

“I thought the swan was clever,” Sig said.

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but Wanda’s competed at the WBC, she’s not run-of-the-mill.”

“How is it bragging, when you’re praising her?”

“You want one to go?” Bucky asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah--” Sig paused a moment, then, “It’s Tony, thanks.”

Sam nudged him. “Your boy’s got another one.”

Bucky flicked his cigarette and took a long drag. “I’m on break. Another socialite?”

“Naw, if it was that boring shit, I’dda left you out here. He’s got a dude with him this time,” Sam said.

Bucky swallowed his mouthful of smoke and then choked on it. Well, that changed everything, didn’t it?

Except it didn’t.

“You oughta quit that nasty habit,” Sam said, and Bucky waved him off.

He snubbed his butt and tossed it in the ashbin out back. The alley was gross and smelled like stale coffee and rotten muffins, but at least he was allowed to smoke there. There weren’t lots of places left that allowed it.

Went inside, snuck a peek at the line. Sure enough, there was Tony, about ten back, with a good-looking blond guy. Like, underwear model good looking. And then Bucky got a better look at his face. Oh, god. That guy.

“Is that--”

“Yep.”

“What are we talking about?” Wanda wanted to know.

“Don’t bother trying to get blondie’s coffee right,” Sam told her. “He’ll spend the next twenty minutes telling you what you did wrong. Just pour him a cup and some cream, and then make him what he actually ordered. He never accepts the first one. No point in wasting your time.”

Tony got his usual, and then spend a moment behind blondie’s back making the ‘look at his guy’ gesture with both hands. Bucky’s mouth tipped up in his the customer is always full of shit smile.

Bucky poured Tony’s coffee, pulled a shot, and went around the side of the counter to give it to him, while blondie was describing how to put half a pump of sweetner in his cup. “Really? This guy? I didn’t know you were into dudes, or I wouldn’t have suggested that you give Heather another date last month.”

“Yeah, no I figured that out when we had a little discussion about Freddie Mercury,” Tony said. “You knew?”

Bucky bobbed his chin around. “I suspected. She’s said some shit, but-- eh. Some people just have a little bi-prejudice, doesn’t affect anybody much, unless they’re dating someone who is bi. Besides, she ticked off all your other boxes.”

“Well, if she’s not going to want to have a relationship because I might have, at some point, touched some other guy’s dick, then the rest of the boxes don’t matter.”

Trust Tony to say something like that, while Bucky was already thinking about the fact that Tony was actually into guys. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Getting a chub while at work was awkward.

“So what’s wrong with Ty?” Tony looked over again, watching as Ty walked Wanda through the steps of pulling a shot, like she’d never done it before.

“He’s a mansplainer,” Bucky said. “He always knows everything, better than everyone.”

Tony chuckled. “I am, in actual facts, a genius.”

“Won’t matter,” Bucky said. “He’s the expert.”

“Could be good for a romp,” Tony said. “Experts can be great lovers.”

“Until he starts telling you everything you’re doing wrong,” Bucky pointed out.

Tony looked offended, although Bucky wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, or at Ty for not-yet-occurring critique of Tony’s bed skills. “We’ll see,” Tony said.

“You’re planning to make pancakes for breakfast?” Bucky wasn’t jealous, he wasn’t. Not that it hadn’t been a while since he’d gotten laid, that was irrelevant. Just--

“It’s been looking good, so far,” Tony said.

“Well, have fun,” Bucky said, his smile coming naturally to his face. Yay customer service job.

“I plan to,” Tony said.

“Coffee, black.”

“Tony?”

“You were right, if you want to tell me so,” Tony said. “But, coffee first?” His eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been drinking heavily, or crying. Or both.

“Sure, sure,” Bucky said. He added two shots to the mix. “Here, come on, it’s on the house, are you--”

Sam waved at him. I got this.

“-- are you okay?”

Tony held up his hand and waggled it back and forth. “We had a big fight,” he said. “It, uh, didn’t end well. But hey, I had almost three months of a relationship. Well, a little more than two, at least. Too bad it’s freaking October. I’m… running out of time.”

“You’re not running out of time,” Bucky told him, scoffing. “You’re in your prime. Plenty of time to find someone, settle down.”

“I mean, I know,” Tony said, sinking down in his chair, “that I don’t need someone to make me happy, that my life has meaning and value. And just because I’m alone, it doesn’t mean I’m unlovable. See, I’ve been talking to my therapist, right.”

“Well, no,” Bucky said, hesitant. Tony thought he was unlovable? He was the most interesting person that Bucky knew. “You’re pretty damn amazing, actually. Smart and sexy, funny. You’re interesting, you’re unabashedly nerdy, and enthusiastic about your geekiness. But not a gatekeeper. Really, Stone didn’t deserve you. He was a dick. I think you’re a hell of a catch, and I don’t understand why people are bein’ so dense about it. I--” would totally date you.

“Yeah, no, I’m-- I’m just not seeing it,” Tony said, and he turned his phone around to show Bucky a hungover frownie face selfie. “Not… just not happening this year. I’m done. Accountability shows that I tried, but this year is just another fucking washout.”

“Um…” Bucky licked his lip, hesitating. “Uh, maybe it’s not?”

“Yeah, why, what do you think, the perfect person’s going to just plop themselves in my lap? I mean, I know you work in a coffee shop--” Tony pushed his chair away from the table. “-- and you’re apparently delusional enough to be a romantic, but--”

Bucky stood up, took a deep breath--

--and plopped himself into Tony’s lap.

“I am an incurable romantic. I do work in a coffee shop, and maybe the perfect person for you is absolutely going to throw themselves in your lap.”

Please God, let this work, because otherwise, this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Tony almost dropped him, before scrambling to get an arm around Bucky’s waist. “Wh-- oh. Oh. Oh, my god.”

“Would you, erm… like to go out? I know a great coffee shop--”

Tony blinked a few times. Then his arm tightened on Bucky’s waist. “Yeah, yeah, I think I might like that. Wouldn’t want to, you know, fail in my resolution.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said. “I’ll hold you accountable.”

[ericsonclan]

The Graveyard

Summary: Prisha meets Willy and learns a bit about the backstory of the Ericson kids.

Read on A03:

It was her first time out this early in the morning. Prisha stood in the front yard of Ericson’s School for Troubled Youth, surveying the grounds. Ever since she’d gotten here, she’d only spent a few moments at a time outside, dropping by to pick up food and then withdrawing back to her room. It was strange spending so much of each day indoors. She didn’t like it.

She didn’t like a lot of things these days. Prisha glance down, looking at the sling that cradled her left arm. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that despite the bandages it would never truly heal. It was useless now, a growth that would flap against her side as she tried to make her way through life one-handed. Part of her was terrified she couldn’t do it, couldn’t survive if that was her new lot in life. A bigger part of her pushed down those thoughts, since there wasn’t space for them. She was too busy surviving. In that sense, nothing had changed. As ever, she took things one day at a time. That was the only way to keep living.

Prisha made her way across the yard, looking over all the different aspects of the school. It certainly was a well-fortified place. The walls were strong, the gates reinforced, and they always had someone on watch. Louis waved to her from the watch tower as she strolled by. Prisha raised her arm in greeting, feeling odd making the gesture. When she’d fist met Louis, Clementine and Violet, she’d assumed she’d never see them again. That was the way with things these days. Every interaction with a stranger could be your last. The only constant if you were lucky enough was your group. She’d expected to stay with Ed, Rita and the others for the long haul. Now they were all dead and she was here. Living with a group she couldn’t make sense of.

Why did they take her in? She’d already proven herself to be utterly useless, needing help with even the simplest tasks. These people already had their hands full too, with children and Violet being badly injured as well. It made no sense to bring her here. She was just another mouth to feed in a world where liabilities could be fatal. Maybe they’d come to their senses and kick her out soon, now that her injuries hadn’t proved fatal. She wouldn’t blame them for it. She already owed them her life; how could she demand more? If that happened, she’d simply have to find a way to make it on her own. Again. Somehow.

As she made her way through the front yard, Prisha noticed a burnt section of the school. She drew closer, examining the structure of the ruins. Whatever had happened here must have resulted in a huge fire. An entire section of the school had burnt down, bricks scattered across the yard. To salvage the area was clearly beyond anyone’s current capabilities. They’d need to lay the bricks by hand, and there was no need for that given the multitude of available buildings on the campus. This place was truly immense.

Rounding the corner, something new caught Prisha’s eye. Grave markers. To be able to do such a thing, burying your dead… Prisha envied them. But at the same time, she recognized the immeasurable loss that each of those markers represented. There were eight in total, a far smaller number than the children this school must have initially held. Prisha wondered which death had led them to lay the first marker, and when the last one had been made. There was a boy standing by the graves. He looked to be in his early teens. From what she’d been told, this must be Willy, the other kid who had helped carry her back to the school. She should thank him. Now didn’t seem like the appropriate time though. He was crouching in front of one of the graves, speaking animatedly as he held up some sort of contraption. She should probably just go.

As she turned to leave though, Prisha tripped over one of the loose bricks.

The boy spun around, looking at her with wide eyes.

Prisha froze in place, an apologetic wince on her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,”

“No, that’s OK,” the boy responded, tucking the item he’d been displaying at the grave behind his back. “You’re Prisha, right?”

“Yes. And you’re Willy?”

The boy nodded.

“I heard you were one of the people who saved my life. Thank you,”

Willy shrugged. “I didn’t really do much. Violet carried you most of the way back herself. I just made sure she didn’t drop you and that your arms and legs didn’t get caught on stuff,”

“Still, it was an important contribution. I appreciate it,” Prisha looked towards the graves. “May I ask who’d buried here? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,”

“No, it’s OK,” Willy scooted around so he was facing the markers once more. “Those two are for Minnie and Sophie. They were twins, Tenn’s sisters. He died too, but only after we figured out that Minnie was actually alive and killed Sophie. But then she died for real and so did Tenn. Brody’s over there, and Marlon. He killed her because she told Clem about what really happened with the twins, then A.J. shot him ‘cause he thought he was a monster. That one was made years ago when a bunch of kids died all at once. And that one’s for Miss Martin, the old school nurse. She’s actually buried over by the greenhouse, but we made this one for her after we found her body,”

“Wow, that’s… a lot. It must have been hard, losing them over the years,”

“Well, Ms. Martin’s and the group graves have been here, a while, but the rest was made…’ Willy thought for a minute. “A year and a half ago. The twins’ ones we made two and a half years ago, but a year and a half ago is when Minnie actually died,”

God. All those graves at the same time? Prisha looked at them, examining the lettering of each marker. They all looked fresh. The group must maintain them well. That meant most of this graveyard was formed years after the world fell apart, after the kids had known each other a long time. These wounds were far fresher than she thought. Wounds… what if… Prisha looked up. “Violet’s eyes, they were…”

“Damaged in the explosion,” Willy looked down at the ground. “I didn’t think any of us would be inside when it went off,”

“You rigged the explosion?”

Willy nodded. “To get rid of the Delta. They were trying to kidnap everybody. They got Omar, Aasim and Violet. But we got them back. I wanted to make sure they could never ever come back again. So I made a bomb and we put it in the boiler of their ship. We planned to get everyone off before they started the engine, but Violet was trying to help Minnie and-” Willy’s voice cracked a bit as he recalled the memory. “It went off with them still inside,”

Prisha noticed the change in his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you to dredge up so many painful memories,”

“Naw, it’s OK. It’s good to know who you’re staying with, right?”

Prisha gave a wry smile. “I suppose so,” She paused. “Wait, you said that Minnie turned out to be the one who killed Sophie. Did Violet know that when she stayed onboard to help her? Is that when she died?”

“No, she died later, on the bridge. And Violet knew then, but…” Willy’s sentence lapsed as he tried to find the right words. “Minnie used to be Violet’s girlfriend. So she didn’t want to give up on her, no matter what,”

This story had so many twists and turns to it. Prisha didn’t feel like she had a grasp on it at all, but she was sure of one thing: these kids had been to hell and back. They were survivors in the purest sense of the word. There was one more question that was nagging at Prisha. She wasn’t sure if she should press any further. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. “I noticed you left one of the graves out. It was the one you were talking to a minute ago. If it’s not too much, could you tell me who it belongs to?”

Willy’s eyes fell. With that one question, she’d made him sadder than he was recounting any of the horrors he’d already mentioned. But he didn’t stay silent. “That one belongs to Mitch,”

“Was he… your brother?”

“Might as well have been,” Willy sniffed, and Prisha could tell the tears wouldn’t be held back much longer. “He got killed protecting us when the Delta came here. He wouldn’t have let them take anyone, not while he was alive to fight,”

“He sounds incredibly brave,”

“He was. He taught me everything: how to hunt, how to carve weapons… everything about bombs too. How to make ‘em and how to set ‘em off. He made a bomb to scare off the raiders. Without it, we probably all would’ve been taken that night,”

“Is that what you have there?” Prisha gestured behind his back. “A bomb?”

Willy nodded, bringing it forward. “I wanted to show him my latest design. I’ve been practicing making them in case we need them again if anybody else attacks. It’s not as fun making them anymore without him around though… and I don’t want to have too many around. I can’t have anyone else get hurt by one,”

“Can I see?” Prisha asked, crouching down in front of him.

Willy nodded, pushing it forward.

Prisha examined it thoughtfully. A crude design, but very effective. “I notice you’ve compartmentalized the different elements to keep them all separate until activation. That’s smart. They’ll be perfectly stable in storage,”

“You know about making bombs?” Willy asked, eyes wide.

“I know the theory, though I’ve never had practical experience in making one. It’s an important skill though, crucial when it comes to defending a place as large as this school,”

“Exactly! I figure if I make enough of them, then if we ever have anyone else lurking around the school, bang! We take ‘em out before they even get inside!” He looked up at Prisha, suddenly growing somewhat shy. “Do you wanna… see the rest of them? I have lots of different designs. They’re in one of the empty classrooms of the old school buildings,”

“I’d love that,” Prisha smiled warmly. “I’m sure I could learn a lot from you,”

“Then follow me!” Willy exclaimed, jumping up and beginning to run back towards the front yard. “It’s right around that corner!”

“I’ll be right there!” Prisha called after him. He’d already disappeared from her line of sight. She looked back toward the markers. To have lost so many of their own to outsiders and yet to open their home to one? These kids were odd. Her last group had been open and caring, but they’d had nothing to lose but each other. They had to band together to survive, to find food and shelter each and every night. This group had everything: food, water, medicine, a safe location… and they shared it so openly with her. It left her flabbergasted.

Talking with Willy though, seeing how open he was to share his story with her and how ready he was to let her further into his life… maybe that’s just how they were. She’d thought that her last group had been the only good people left in the world, but this group’s kindness was unparalleled. Even though it’d be ridiculous to expect it, she hoped she could stay. Maybe with time she’d adapt to this new life with one arm and prove herself useful again. She really hoped that could be the case.

“You coming?” Willy’s voice rang out from the yard.

“Yes, sorry! I’m right behind you!” Prisha rose to her feet, brushing the dead grass of her legs with her good hand. She liked it here. She hoped she could stay. One day at a time though. One day at a time.

[ain-t-bovvered]

14x10 Commentary

Zeta and Giuls scream together, and then die.

Me & Zeta will watch together season 14′s episodes as they come out and we’ll do our commentary while watching.

1 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9

14x10 Nihilism 

-I did not want to see Jack like that again thanks

Zeta: true

- And there was a need for some wings there honestly .

[ comes back crawling]

HERE

Zeta:  the bar sceeeene

-.....THAT’S A DAMN SQUIRREL WITH A AVIATOR CAP ON ( also I re wrote squirrel four times before getting it right) 

- MOOSE!!! 

-......The Moose has a tag with “FAMILY BUSINESS” written on it----lol Jensen

Zeta: What’s her name

- PAMELAAAAAAAA . Damn woman I went a bit Bi there

Zeta: OH YES.

- [Music: and I’m searching for a rainbow] .....WOW

-[on the counter] Daphne loves Fred.

 my monkey dirty brain: Daddy loves tips. 

-hot. want that.

Zeta: the tequila or the bartender?

Bitch please . both.

- D: “ What are we, savages?”

Zeta: Oh the lips

-Cosmic Cowboy. *chokes*

-FB

-why is it always a ghoul case?

-Lol but who’s the drunk guy tho

Zeta: Bitch, look at her biceps

- some Bi slippage there too I see. FOCUS

Zeta: also indeed. Who is he?

-D:”I’ve never had anything this nice”

Also....I would be like Dean if I had a bar. One for the costumer and one for me! woohoo .

- D: “How come you always have a boyfriend?”

  P: “How come you always want what you can’t have?”

[looks into the camera like in the office]

- D: “This is my dream” 

I kinda see it tho....old grumpy Dean Winchester being the Bobby while running a bar like that. Yes....I like it.

- I knew it . I wanna see someone closed behind that “closet” *wink wink*

Zeta: Oh oh

Zeta: the slo mo.

-NICE .You are welcome for this gif where I let you enjoy the full over the count jump. Nice healthy middle age man over the fence jump ( nevermind this is an italian oil ad ).

-The blood. So cute

Zeta: I’m famous

- mmm

Zeta: shit

-Hello M boi, I missed you fam

Zeta: Changed clothes

- OMFG are you saying that the Archangel Michael macVanity von DramaQueen really just angel mojo changed into his Peaky Blinder wanna be in front of them?

He’s so flamboyant , I love him .

Zeta: The close up

- M making three men kneel with so much as lift his hands.  WHAT A MOOD. WHERE CAN I GET THAT? I WANT 10.

- M : “ I saw everything”  Yeah no shit we kinda see that coming too

-DoN ‘T IntERrUPt mE 

Zeta: Don’t interrupt me

-I’m-

I’m so bothered right now. Dom Michael for the win

-OH WOW

- Sam just “assbutted” Michael lol.

Castiel : Sam....did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?

Sam: uh ....No?

- HE ANGRY

- Dean’s not home right now...

Zeta: Please leave a message

*giggling* I love him

Zeta: His voice GOD DAMN

-yes

- Castiel hair tho.

Zeta: Do you? Cocky much

-but needs to play it cool. Can’t risk to mess up the pomaded hair.

- S:” We the angel cuffs on , Michael is under control”

 M: “Keep telling yourself that “  ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

I *clap* LOVE *clap* HIM *clap*

- S: “Dump him in the trunk of the Impala” ... DUMP HIM .ahahahahaah

-Garth is in the trunk

Zeta: it’s a big trunk

-M: “ It’s a party!”

- J: “ It’s not like any of us can fly”

 M : “ Well one of us can”

 S: “ STFU”

- J:” Sam, are we gonna die here?” ... wow Jack...babe...stfu

-Yes OMG I forgot about the stalky reaper

Zeta: You mess up so many things

- it ain’t wrong

- [in john Mulaney’s Trump voice] we locked Death away and enslaved the reapers

Zeta: Poor Cas

- ok but WHO....death? Michael is asking himself that too.

-Yes , put him in the dungeon. HOT

Zeta: shit

-I can hear you

Zeta: Shit

-Ahahahahahaahah

Zeta: SHIT

-I’m loving this

Zeta: Bring back Crowley.

Zeta: We left Garth in the trunk looool

- that....everytime we don’t see a character for long that’s it...they are in the trunk.

Zeta: Castiel

-CASTIEL . so strange, I love him, he’s such a sarcastic asshole.

- M: “Yes, uh, put a chair against the door”

Zeta: This pretty smile as I rip you apart

-I’M SHAKING. YAS.

Zeta: Control yourself

- S: “Cass this is all we’ve got”

Zeta: Again?

- well it is a loop.

-MORE SHOTS.  (me)

Zeta: The only thing missing is “heat of the moment”

- what if the woman is his conscience trying to get him out and if he sign he’s out? ...like....testing his resolution?

-Little insulting

Zeta: you’re nothing

Zeta: Why is he so perfect in this?

- J: “Dean---is strong”

  M *disgusted face*: “ Is a gnat “ . WOW

-OH SHUT UP OOOOH

Zeta: Emotional abuse.

- M: “ he was not happy, but he didn’t care-- Cause you are not Sam, you are not Cass.” 

[ me looking smiling to the Castiel/Misha hateclub]

-M: “You are a weak helpless thing”

- Jack , babe ....get away tho 

Zeta: LISTEN TO YOUR DAD

- M: “no I’m not and I can still hear you”

Zeta: Prick

- Love that prick..... literally 

- I care so little for the others I swear

- M: “Look at you, play nursemaind for a nephilim”

-C: “You are confusing loyalty and compassion for weakness”

Zeta: Damn what am I watching?

- [looks into the camera like in the office] Sexual tension

Zeta: so done. this. Close up

- M “and now...that I’m in here, I know why” 

-CHUCK

Zeta: He churn our draft after draft

- M speaks like he’s singing and mocking you at the same time. He has this musicality in his speak and I love it

- C: “Why would he do that?”

 M: “BECAUSE HE DOESN’T CARE!”

- good lord I swear all the angels are just brats throwing temper tantrum because they have a trash dad.

- M: “But now , I just want to burn every one of his little worlds until I catch up to the Old man”

Zeta: Even god can die.

- oh ok....overachiever much

Zeta: Hurt Jack

- No no Jack babe...keep your fucking soul .

Zeta: Cool science project

- Michael’s mind: if you mess up my perfectly combed hair Cass I swear-

- M: “ I give it a solid B- .....uh oooh”

 me nervously: .....wtf lol 

- M: *snorts* Oh Cass, I believe in you.

So rude...so nasty 

- j: “ What should I do?”

Zeta: Pray

-Thanks Cas, that’s-......that’s great

Zeta: You are all mine

- ..... YESSIR TAKE ME

Zeta: Dean’s mind.

- ..... if it was a funny episode they could have made so many jokes about being empty lol.

- me looking around haters mind ^

Zeta: This is what you are gonna become

-omg

- THAT WAS DEAN IN HELL.

- Dean’ “NOOOO “ at Castiel death is vibrating into my bones.

- S: “Dean is strong”

- C: “Sam, we’ve been through a lot and Dean is more than strong”

- S: “Dean thrive on trauma.” 

WE’VE BEEN KNEW

Zeta: Smart moose

- Somebody has been reading some meta tumblr posts

- P: “You really know how to talk to a lady don’t you?”

 me already at Castiel’s feet : wha

- That’s us fans watching 14 seasons of supernatural ^

-Bloody Cass is 100. *licks lips*

- P: “get me a shot. With your braaaain”

Zeta: Well hello.

- C:” That was- that....DeAN ThAt WaS An ACcidENT”

Zeta: Babyyyy

- them baby faces

- C:” WE NEED YOU TO COME BACK”

- S:”POUGHKEEPSIE”

- Dean’s mind : [ old modem sounds]

-M [Slow clap it out.] : Hey Fellas

-AND THE HAT IS BACK

Zeta: I’m you

Zeta: He gripped you tight and raised you from perdition

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’M DYING SO BAD.

-BITCH I’M DEAD AND GIGGLING I CAN’T.

-but also....but the fuck is Mary at?... like wow.

- also....everything that Micheal is saying right now is causing me actual fucking pain.

- Ok and both Sam and Cas faces? well thanks

Zeta: He’s buying time

-WOW. Slow smile, oooooH

-S: “So in here, you are all talk”

- oh that’s why he doesn’t use his powers. Serviceable .

Zeta: So happy. Fuck

Zeta: Prove it

- Um...yes hello 911? 

Michael getting his hands dirty is too hot for me.

-Fucking Tiger man.

-Come on baby 

Zeta: Jack will do something “stupid”

- Well he is his parents’ son *shrug*

Zeta: that

- D:” Then we don’t kick him out, we keep him in”

-oooooh M goes in the closet, lol

Zeta: Oh my god.

- ....Well that was stupid AHAHAHAAH 

- I can’t stop laughing .

- M [ROAR] 

  me: ....

Zeta: I’m the cage.

-HE IS THE CAGE. That doesn’t seem right tho...come on.

Zeta: So now Dean has Michael locked up

-ooooh the magic hurt him. Forgot about that. My baby.

Zeta: Concerned Dad.

- The way Cass say : “you understand?” killed me....so soft...so worried...

- The little smile! Kill me now.

Zeta: He’s not ok.

-Dean is not ok.

Zeta: [henley alert]

-He’s like....naked. ( still has another tshirt under it tho)

-Oh he’s mad 

- I’M CRYING . HE LOOKS LIKE MY CAT WHEN I REFUSE TO LET HIM OUT .

amazing.

( Sorry for the not that clear gifs but I wanted to cut and past all the bits of that because it’s amazing)

Zeta: He’s suffering so much.

-That troat

- That door is not that sturdy tho

Zeta: Oh hell no

- oh hello death . 

-Aw hell naw.

- Death :” Except one”

-AW HELL NAW

Zeta: Which one?

- UGH

Zeta: No

-NO

Zeta: NOOO so much hurt

-OH FUCK

Zeta: Actual literal pain in my chest

YA KNOW WHAT?....I DON’T LIKE THAT LOOK .

NOT ONE BIT.

.

- lol I don’t even wanna look at tumblr now

Zeta: well you know me....I have

- of course you did

post gifs comment: I didn’t do my crack gifs for now, but they will be done in a separate post.

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If you want to get tagged in the future ones send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage  @destiel-honeypie   @mariekoukie6661   @dragontamerm    @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat   @bunnybaby121115  @aliaitee @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc

[uhyeahisurehopeitdoes-blog]

For You

Summary:  While recovering from a rough injury, you and McCree take some time to talk things out.

( McCree x Reader )

~

Looking back on it, there wasn’t anything he could do, really. You’d made your choice, and that was that. No matter how indecisive you typically seemed to be, when it came to McCree, you didn’t show much hesitation. As endearing as this was to him, it often didn’t do any favors for his mental state.

Especially once he noticed you on the ground, bleeding and unconscious after taking a bullet for him.

Although now patched up and sound asleep, McCree had to discard the scene of you from his mind while he glanced at you, working quietly on the small table beside your bed. After three days of heavy medication and recovery, Mercy finally eased off on her dosages, allowing you to be coherent once you got enough rest. McCree guessed that you would be awake soon enough, and he was trying his best to be there for that. Even if you weren’t actually “awake” most of the time before, he figured you could at least use someone’s presence while you were in here. Especially now, even if it was 1:14 in the morning.

With a yawn, McCree moved himself to stand up and stretch, relieving some of the ache he felt from sitting for too long. While he was able to get some decent work done while you were in here, doing mission reports for this length of time wasn’t making him feel any younger, especially with the lack of sleep he’d been getting lately. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve put them off for this long.

Before casting a final glance at you, McCree let out a heavy sigh as he began to exit the medbay, planning to make his way outside for a smoke. Leaving you made his chest ache with anxiety, but he needed something to clear his head. And maybe get a drink, too. Before he could fully leave the doorway, though, he paused for a moment. I must be hearing things.

“Mmh…Jesse?”

Quickly turning around, McCree stared in awe to see you suddenly yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes. “Am I… In the medbay?” you groggily questioned, gazing around at the soft, dim yellow lighting of the room.

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re awake,” McCree exclaimed as he approached your side with a grin, pulling a chair closer to sit next to you. Gently taking your hand in his, McCree continued, “Yeah, you’re in the medbay. Been here for a few days, now.” Gently squeezing his hand back, you smiled back at him, finding comfort in his gesture and voice. “How are you feelin’, sweet pea?” McCree questioned, curiosity and concern seeping through his tone. “Hmm. Sleepy. ‘Feels good you’re here too, though,”

You looked back at him with dazed eyes, beginning to inspect your form and the space around you with more awareness. You motioned to sit up, only to discover an intense pain in your left shoulder. A quiet “Oh,” was all you could mutter after letting out a small hiss in discomfort . Your lover was quick to lean closer, quickly examining your actions with a concerned look overcoming his features. “Careful, sugar,” Confusion began to muddle your mind before memories started to pour back in, and you were quickly reminded of your actions and the events that transpired a few days ago.

Freeing your hand from his you carefully shifted your garment and blankets to reveal your heavily bandaged shoulder, along with a few other noticeable scrapes and bruises. “Oh,” you whispered in quiet bewilderment. “Well, fuck.”

“Not exactly the reaction I was expectin’, but I’m glad to see you’re back to yourself.” McCree chuckled. “Of all the places I thought I’d get shot first, my shoulder wasn’t really at the top of the list.” You stated, moving to gently graze your hand over the bandages. “You weren’t hurt, were you?” You asked, turning to face him, worry beginning to creep into your mind. McCree simply huffed at your question. “Is that really with what you’re concerned with?” you began to reach out for him before he could finish the thought, but he captured your hands in his, placing them gently back down by your side. “Naw, I’m just fine.”

“Mmm. I’m glad,” you said with a lazy smile. Noticing the time displayed on the wall, you peered at McCree with a bit of shock. “How long have you been here?” McCree gave you an almost sheepish look, glancing away briefly before rubbing the back of his neck, confirming your rising suspicions. “A few hours,” he admitted. “I was actually about to… uh, get some shut eye, but then, well,” McCree surveyed your form before meeting your eyes again. “You woke up, and all.” he smirked. Although you didn’t have any prior context, you knew your boyfriend, and it was likely he wasn’t actually going to bed; not with you in this state.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you,” it was more of a affirmation than a question, but you still glared at him, expecting an answer you already knew.

“Now what makes you think that, sugar?” while there was a hint of defiance in his tone, you knew he knew that he’d already been caught. “You look like shit, Jesse.” you stated, crossing your arms. You saw that familiar, minuscule shift in his expression at your implication, and you could tell you’d struck a bit of a nerve. “yeah, well,” he started, “kinda hard to do anything after having to carry your unconscious partner under heavy fire for an hour without any reinforcement.”

You’re not sure if it was the medication, drowsiness, or just you’re stubbornness, but you began to feel your nerves start to prick at that. Of course you understood why he was getting a bit irritated, but his attitude was making you get on the defensive, as well. “ah,” you said sarcastically, “lovely to hear that you’ve been spoiling yourself while I’ve been practically half dead.”

McCree glared back, eyebrows knitting together a bit. “hey, don’t you start with that. You’ve had your fair share of moping, too, so don’t act like you’re exempt or somethin’,” he contested. “I’m not saying I haven’t, Jess, but you know I don’t like it when you’re not looking after yourself like that,” you leaned forward, reaching out for his hand again, but this time McCree crossed his arms before you could touch him. “You’re in the hospital for getting shot and have the nerve to try and lecture me for not taking care of myself?” he scoffed. You narrowed your eyes at that, and met his gaze with an icy glare.

“Awfully bold of you to try that after I saved your life.”

“And what? You want me to be thankful you nearly killed yourself in the process?” McCree snapped, eyes narrowing narrowing to match yours. “I don’t need protectin’, y/n.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you laughed. “Did you really just say that?” you couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip at his implication. McCree’s expression didn’t falter, though, and simply furrowed his brows even further at your laughing. “Is that what you think this is about? That I think you can’t handle yourself and I need to babysit you or something-”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about that,” McCree spat. “You know that’s not true, but I don’t need you getting fuckin’ shot just because I wasn’t payin’ better attention.”

“That’s not the point, Jesse!” you exclaimed, arms frantically gesturing. “This is what we do- we help people, and if you think I’m just going to let you or anyone else get hurt without doing anything, then you’re wrong.”

“Y/n,“ he started. “I know you’re more than capable of holdin’ your own, but you know how much I hate seeing you hurt, and seeing you… Like that, during the mission, just about fuckin’ broke me. Mercy wasn’t near us, and for once I wasn’t sure if-” McCree quickly stopped himself from finishing that thought, before continuing. “I’m tryin’ to be reasonable here, but can’t you understand what that kind of shit does to me?” Frustration getting the better of you, you scoffed, and raised your voice with a stern glare.

“Of course I understand, Jesse, but I did it for you, asshole. I know you don’t like it, but it’s what happened, and I would and will do it again if I get the chance to, no matter how many times you tell me not to, because I love you. Can’t you understand that?” You protested.

McCree simply stared back at you, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint schooling his features; determined, you met his gaze with confidence as you the two of you had your own mini staring contest, unwilling to be the one break first. After a moment of silence, McCree eventually turned away with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “God, y/n. What am I gonna do with you?”

Your lover’s sudden change of tone and attitude made your cheeks flush a bit, but you were determined to keep a straight face. This quickly proved to be very difficult, though, as you couldn’t help the slight laugh and smile that overcame you. “Well, a kiss would be a good start.” You felt your chest begin to swell with fondness as you heard McCree begin to laugh, before moving to, as carefully as he could, capture you in a hug. McCree always seemed to have a way with putting you at ease, and being wrapped in his embrace right now was definitely no exception; even if the position was a bit awkward. The heat that was radiating from him was comforting, and his scent and hold on you made your heart squeeze with affection as you held him back even tighter.

“Look, y/n, I just… I don’t want to lose you. Not like I’ve lost everyone else.” McCree softly said as he rubbed your back soothingly. “I know.” You relished in the moment before McCree slowly shifted to gently hold your chin and take your hand, forehead coming to rest on yours. He said nothing at first, letting go of a deep breath before continuing, softly, “Promise me you’ll be more careful?”

You squeezed his hand back, and placed a hand on his chest before smiling. “I’ll see what I can do, cowboy.” you both started to laugh at that, and McCree captured your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Time seemed to slow down as you two basked in each other’s touch, savoring the way you felt against one another. Eventually, though, you could feel McCree gradually putting more and more of his weight against you; taking this as a hint, you carefully moved over and dragged him down to lay next to you. A soft “oof” left his lips before you both began to chuckle, beaming at each other. You both shifted in an attempt to create enough space for the two of you, which, in all fairness, wasn’t possible, but neither of you minded as you became nearly flush against each other. You gazed fondly at each other as McCree took your hand in his, brushing his lips against your knuckles, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed just how exhausted he really looked.

“You look tired.” you commented. “Here,” it took some shuffling and a bit of effort, but you were able to share your blanket with him, along with your pillow. “Cozy?” you asked, resulting in a huff from McCree as he moved to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Couldn’t be better, darlin’.” he whispered. McCree’s expression shifted into something a bit more somber, as he confessed, “Sorry I yelled, earlier,”

“It’s okay,” you moved your leg to go in between his, snuggly. “Sorry I yelled, too. And made you worry.” you stated. “It’s okay.” he captured your lips in another soft kiss, noses nearly touching, before adding, “I love you.” you smiled at that, moving yourself to cuddle into his chest, your head tucked under his. You softly placed a kiss there, returning the gesture. “I love you, too.”

Your eyes began to feel heavy as the sound of McCree’s breathing started to lull you to sleep. You couldn’t stop it if you tried, and you muttered a sleepy “Goodnight” to your lover as you snuggled in closer to him. McCree moved to place a kiss atop your head, muttering an equally tired goodnight. It didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep after that, thoughts coming to an ease.

Well, almost to an ease. Before you remembered Mercy was most likely going to lose her shit tomorrow when she walked in and saw you two.

[mwolf0epsilon]

DBH - Of Fishers and Seafarers

Sorry for how late this is, I've been struggling a bit with actually finishing this drabble on a lighter note and somehow failed miserably.

In which an android designed to repair NASA's spaceship for the upcoming Io mission, becomes a lot more to the woman that lovingly coded and designed him.

---

    Despite the fact this one project would improve every aspect of deep space exploration efforts, and that it may one day pave the way to the next step of humanity's preservation through the establishing of off-world colonies, NASA's finest did mourn the fact they were sending their most ambitious collaboration into orbit.

It's not that the chief engineers or other assorted members of staff were upset at the prospect of hard work burning up in Io's atmosphere, no the resources and work put into assembling the androids and ship they'd be transported in were not the biggest loss here.

No, they were much sadder knowing that the AIs they'd lovingly programmed and developed, would eventually be lost to the hostility of the vast void beyond.

         It was strange how quickly humanity had gotten used to androids and then begun to openly resent them. From the very beginning when they'd begun launching rovers and other assorted drones into space, NASA executives and lower level workers had always had a special place in their hearts for their robotic workers. But the androids? The androids were held with a degree of respect that far surpassed whatever it is your average Joe or Sally thought of their domestic models.

It wasn't just nerds being nerds and loving their toys. Anyone who tried to say so, would have to face the wrath of Dr. Taylor Fisher, one of the many members of the programming team at NASA, and the self-proclaimed mother of the one AI that everyone was so fond of.

Each member of the android exploration team had a specific set of skills they were built for that fit the role they would play inside the ship, and at least one set of scientists and engineers who adored them, but Taylor's unit was the one that seemed to have captivated the hearts of every human worker within NASA's facilities.

    Taylor was, of course, quite proud of how IO100-P turned out. Having spent so many countless nights fully refining the AI and testing it for bugs and other assortments of issues, she was glad to see the stream of data, inquiries and processes, become something new and unique in its own right.

She was no Elijah Kamski, and her darling Proteus was no Chloe, but she couldn't help just marvel as her project slowly worked it's way into passing the Turing Test.

The other AIs were just as impressive, if not more exciting to test and engage with considering their functions, but somehow her baby had become the most outgoing of them all even if his primary task was focused on repair works within the ship.

He held conversations better, took in information more quickly, and even seemed to retain interests unlike his fellow team members.

He had a personality, which she'd hidden from the stonefaced gargoyles from Cyberlife, but openly shared with her peers.

The first thing she did when she deemed him fit to be put into a body, was seek out the designers and call for some changes to the base design.

 “No no no, he looks too young!” She'd exclaimed “Proteus strikes me as a gentlemanly sort. Older, more experienced.”

 “But he IS very young, Taylor.” The designer, a slightly pudgy man named Rick, sighed “And you know those technicians won't agree to visually unappealing models.”

 “Being older isn't unappealing. A team of spacefarers shouldn't look fresh out of college. They should look respectable!” she'd responded angrily at the mere thought of age being perceived as ugly.

 “Like Cyberlife wants anything but their usual formula…” Rick rolled his eyes in frustration. He agreed with her but he didn't want to upset their collaboration partners.

 “Fuck what Cyberlife's saying! We coded them, we design them.” Taylor snarled “I'm not sending a babyfaced recruit to space!”

It took some work, but they'd managed a small victory. The Androids did not look like eternal doll faced youths, instead looking in between mid-thirties to mid-forties.

They'd promised more pay for the extra cosmetics, but it felt right.

Proteus looked right in her eyes, and it was adorable to look at this remarkable and likeable android, who was both soft-spoken and looked like he could be an average suburban father.

If anything, his love for the three android cats Taylor owned, proved as much.

 “Why three? Was one unit not enough?” He'd asked the first time she'd brought them with her to work.

 “I like cats.” She shrugged “I've always wanted one when I was a kid, but when I saw these three...Eh, call it an impulse buy if you want…”

 “Could you not own a cat when you were a child?”

 “No. At the time android cats weren't in the market, and I'm allergic to cat fur...So yeah...These three are kind of my fuck you to life for giving me a stupid allergy.”

Proteus seemed to consider this before focusing on the three android felines.

Two of them were shaped like the regular domestic model, while the third seemed larger. A common orange shorthair with wide and intelligent looking yellow eyes, a black cat with a noticeable white stripe on her nose and calm blue eyes, and a Bengal cat with forest green eyes. The three had collars of different designs, which merely shared the triangle marker indicating their android nature. They had no visible LED, an aesthetic choice.

 “I've gotten one of them modded to completion.” Taylor stated as he examined the cats that all seemed to be observing him with mild curiosity. “Helps to have a smart cat holding the fort.”

 “Holding the fort…?”

 “It's an expression. Do you want to know their names?” She smiled kindly at the android, who simply nodded. “Alright. The Bengal lady that's currently nibbling on your sleeve is called Terrabyte.”

 “...Pardon but it seems you have mispronounced Terabyte.” Proteus pointed out.

 “Naw, it's a pun. Bengal cats are like, Wilder than regular cats, hence Terra. And then since she's an android, byte seemed like an appropriate contradiction. Nature vs Man and all that jazz.”

 “Ah...I see. I find it an adequate name then.”

 “Good. Lil Terra isn't too refined, she's kind of vintage if you will, but she's lovable. The black one is called Luna. She's in the middle when it comes to intelligence, but that's only because I haven't gotten the time to buy the rest of her upgrades. She's a natural hunter tho, she swats flies straight out of the air!”

 “Luna...Perhaps an homage to your work for NASA?”

 “Nah, I'm just a dumb nerd. I named her after an anime cat.” Taylor chuckled “Sailor Moon kicks ass anyway, and the stripe makes it look like she's destined for greatness.”

 “...I shall have to procure this...Sailor Moon...to understand the context, but I trust the name is fitting?”

 “Oh god I've accidentally introduced anime to my android-son….My bosses are gonna kill me.” Taylor covered her face in amusement before shaking her head “Anyway, last but certainly not least, there's little old Data. He's a smart boy and he's modded to perfection. Intelligent and knows a lot of tricks. Before you ask, yes I named him after another show, but this time it's a sci-fi classic. Who could diss on Star Trek am I right?”

Proteus shrugged

 “I wouldn't know. Perhaps I require more research on the matter.”

 “I guess my boss won't be too angry if I introduce you to Star trek, he was a hardcore Spock and Picard fan when he was younger so... You're gonna love Data. He's the best character and he's like you! An android! In space!”

 “An android in space...Not yet I'm afraid. But soon.”

    Proteus became the primary focus of Dr. Fisher's time until the day he was called in to launch.

It was hard saying goodbye, even harder when he hugged her and confided that he was scared to go to Io, as he knew there would be no way of returning home to her, to his family.

NASA would mourn the android team, Dr. Fisher especially would mourn the loss of the android she painstakingly coded and designed.

Those calm features and brilliant lilac eyes, framed by a pair of glasses that complimented the absurdly adorable academic fashion he prefered, would haunt her dreams for months to come...And more so after the Revolution came to pass. After all, if the spacefarer androids did find a way to return, as impossible as that may be, she may not be around to see her boy again... She could only hope for him that the abyssal tides beyond, would be kinder to him than her health had been to her.

But then again, Proteus was a Fisher, and Fishers were destined to sail the winds of opportunity, be they out at sea or up above in the stars.