#6 years old and still no eggs though

[leonieweird]

The First Time I Saw A Scared Human

The first time I saw a human scared was when I was only 6 years old.

The Irdbay species had adopted a human on board to get them used to children of different races. I was the more socialable one inside of my nest, and the human was very kind. Always got onto our level when we were learning and helped us when we were learning to fly.

The older Irdbay’s loved the human whose name was Jo’an. One day, they had to leave on important business. By then, human Jo’an had aquatinted with my entire nest and we were comfortable with being around her.

That’s when the Enahyay attacked.

The ship flashed red, alarms blared, blood of my fellow nest mates fell onto the group. The Enahyay was ruthless. They ripped apart younglings, smashed eggs that had yet hatched, and didn’t hesitate to rip into Human Jo’an’s leg. To this day, her scream has made its own nest in my mind.

I remember hiding with Human Jo’an, now the last of my nest.

Her hand covered her mouth, trapped in a closet as I tried to quiet down. Even with Human Jo’an right next to me, I couldn’t hear anything but her heartbeat. The loud thumping was quiet compared to the blaring alarms, however I could hear it.

If I could hear it, so could the Enahyay. Footsteps echoed from our hiding spot, the growls making Human Jo’an’s heart speed up even more. The pounding thumps made a rhythm that I could follow. The footsteps continued on, the growls slowly growing quiet.

I tried to shift to fix my wing and possibly squeak to Human Jo’an about her leg, but her gaze made me stop. A gaze of fear, worry, but also anger. Her eyes were that of a predator backed up into a corner and the gaze of a caretaker who lost all of her young. Her eyes were telling me not to move, even though I could not hear the predator anymore.

With my head, I barely motioned to her leg. Blood dripped down from her thigh. It stained her shorts, her socks, and even her shoes that she wore around the ship. She looked down only briefly before her entire body started to shake. The anger slowly dwindled down in her gaze until it was only fear. I didn’t understand what was wrong until I remember what my mother had told me.

‘Most predators can smell a range of things. Blood is one of them, myy atchlinghay. If you’re bleeding, fly as fast as you can as far as you can-‘

I could barely make out Human Jo’an’s slowly movements to grab the metal rod that was in the closet. She had a bone crushing grip on it.

‘If you get caught, it’s over. Just screech for me or Jo’an, and we’ll come over.’

The door ripped open and the bloodthirsty eyes of a Enahyay flashed through the dark lighting with the occasional flash of red. My wings bristled with fear. Before I could act, Human Jo’an let out a yell that rang throughout the ship. The metal rod in her arms swung towards the Enahyay, knocking him away from the closet.

I could only curl in fear, but I heard it. The Enahyay’s whimpers, Jo’an’s screams, and the sound of a metal rod connecting with skin. The whimpers eventually died down as the sound of metal against skin slowly sounded like metal hitting a liquid. Human Jo’an screams did not stop.

I heard more Enahyay coming, yet I could only hide and quiver in fear while Human Jo’an kept screaming. I could hear both her blood and tears drop onto the ground along with the bodies of Enahyay.

The rescue team and older Irdbay arrived only a mere 10 minutes later. By then, I was in Human Jo’an’s bloody arms. Black stained every part of us. Human Jo’an still had the tight grip of the metal rod, rocking me back and forth with tears streaming out of her dead eyes.

When I was just 6 earth years old, I learned the terror that humans feel and the actions that come with it. I learned what a scary existence scared human truly are.

#humans are space orcs #hasodot #did I just make an entire alien language piglatin? #yes #yes i did #do i feel bad? #No #no i dont

[storydays]

C'mon, baby! Let's Go CRAZY

John Dory X Male! Rock Troll! Husband! Reader.

John Dory chuckled to himself as he watched his three children chase their cousins around. Currently, he was relaxing at the bar with his brothers', enjoying a drink and warm atmosphere.

After meeting Bruce, and knowing how dangerous things were, JD asked his sweet sister in law, Brandi, if he could leave his children safe on Vacay Island until either his partner came for them or he himself came back.

Of course, she happily kept the 3 Trollings. "It's honestly safer for them," she chided him before they left.

The oldest at 10 years old, Ash was a stubborn Troll and got along well with Bruce's oldest child, Cove. They were both super sarcastic but cared deeply about their siblings.

Cove would show Ash all of the cool hiding places on Vacay Island, and Ash was small enough that they could fit into the nooks and crannies that Cove couldn't reach. The two pre-teens bonded over learning about being non-binary and being true to themselves.

Ash took after John the most. Their hair color, eye color, and was a Pop Troll. Ash even wore compression gloves like their Papa, to keep their shaking hands still when drawing in their sketch book.

Then their only girl, Brooke, was an exact carbon copy of her Daddy. She was only 6 years old, but she was a wild card. She would jump off of stuff, then used her (h/c) pigtails to catch herself at the last moment. She took after John's husband in personality, looks, and even in music genre: Rock! John's favorite part was that (Y/N) and Brook shared (e/c) eyes.

Honestly, most of John's gray hair comes from that child. She was LaBreezey's little shadow. "She's just following what her big cousin does because to her, LaBreezy is her hero." Brandi laughed when John wondered outloud.

Ugh, John could just hear his husband's smirk when Brooke started talking about the government's control..or lack of it. Great, he already (Y/N) to worry about, now he's got two to deal with. Hopefully, that phase will pass soon.

The teal haired Troll hissed when he felt something tug sharply on his tail. Looking down, he brightened, seeing his youngest, Reed making grabby hands at him, demanding attention. John set his drink down before grabbing the Trolling.

"Reed! Finally up from your nap, little man?" Reed was currently struggling with speech, so he just made some babbling noises, before cuddling in his Papa's arms.

Reed was quite the surprise. John and (Y/N) thought they were done having kids, both of them in their late 30's. But one day, they woke up to Reed's egg sitting snugly in John's head.

Reed was a little miracle egg, and hatched looking like both of his fathers, John's hair, (Y/N)'s nose, but what was unique about the little dude, he had heterochromia. So his right eye was the same blue as John's and the calm (e/c) as (Y/N).

"So, where are you John Dory?" Bruce snapped his older brother out of his thoughts, making him realize his siblings' were looking at him.

"Huh?" John asked dumbly. Clay snickered, "John Dory has left the building, gentlemen." They joked, making the other brothers laugh.

"Ha ha." He chuckled, jumping slightly when he heard Brooke squeal loudly. BroZone looked over to where the little teal trolling watched excitedly as a (s/c) Troll went nacho diving.

Even though, there was salsa and cheese in their eyes, the new Troll got out yelling happily and excitedly. Bruce's children and John's older children crowed around him, chattering away.

Bruce frowned, knowing his kids wanted to copy the mysterious Troll's actions. "Ugh, that is so reckless. Now the kids are going to want to do it, and they'll be all sticky. Have you ever tried to give children in general a bath? Not to mention my kids are giants." He groaned.

John ignored his brothers' as Reed's tail excitedly wagged in his face, pointing towards the crowd.

Laughing, he adjusted the little Troll and stood up. "Okay, okay, we're going." He turned towards his brothers, with a raised brow. "Y'all coiming?"

BroZone scrambled after their brother, watching in shock as the new Troll grinned and rushed to John Dory. John stopped him with his tail, and deadpanned expression. "You are NOT touching us, until you've showered or rinsed off, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) grinned mischievously, turning towards Ash and Brooke, who bore matching grins. "Come on, kids!" "Wait, no!" John yelped when he was suddenly pushed from behind and pulled into the stream.

BroZone watched as (Y/N) held Reed in his arms, with a smug grin on his face. "Well, I rinsed off." He cackled, helping John Dory out of the water, before leaning in and kissing the grumpy Troll.

John smiled into the kiss, and kissed him back.

"Daaaadddddssss!!!!" Ash and Brooke squealed laughed, as John and (Y/N) covered their children's eyes with their tails.

Pulling back, (Y/N) pulled his children into his arms, squeezing tight. "Sorry it took so long for me to get here. This place is a good 3 day ride by caterbus. And I forgot my snacks!!!" (Y/N) whined, ears pointing down, perking up when his children giggled." So when I saw those nachos, I had to dive in and eat something."

John laughed, shaking his head. "Papa, I think our uncles' stopped working.." Ash pointed towards the frozen BroZone where their jaws dropped and stared wide eyed.

"Oh, right! (Y/N), babe, these are my brothers! Spruce, who now goes by Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and Bit-- I mean Branch. Guys, this is my husband, (Y/N)."

"Husband?" asked Clay. They were cool with it, same sex relationships weren't taboo or anything, but Clay was just surprised that John Dory of all people was in one.

"Cool." Floyd smiled.

"Papa?" Bruce whispered, a smile growing on his face.

"(Y/N)?" mumbled Branch, your name sounding familiar.

"Dada!" Reed giggled, tail wrapping around (Y/N)'s forearm.

"Uh-oh."

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch #clay trolls #trolls 3 #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #storydays #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #band together #Youtube

[bethanythebogwitch]

This Wet Beast Wednesday I'm going to talk about gars. This needs some clarification because there are a lot of different fish called gar, garfish, or garpike. I'm referring to fish of the family Lepisostidae, the only surviving members of the ancient clade Ginglimodi, which I mostly brought up because Ginglimodi is a funny name.

(image: a longnose gar)

Gars are predatory fish found exclusively in North and Central America, though they have been introduced outside of their native range. Their ancestors evolved in Triassic period and once occupied most of North America and large portions of Europe back when the continents were still connected. They are freshwater fish, though a few species will go into brackish or even marine waters temporarily. The name "gar" is though to come from the old english word for "spear", which is appropriate as gar are very elongated fish and often have pointy snouts. Many other groups of elongated fish are also given the common name of gar or garfish for this reason. Their long snouts are filled with sharp teeth which are used to crush through shells and flesh. Gars are opportunistic predators who feed largely on crustaceans, frogs, and fish and will eat carrion if they find it. The long snouts are also used to dig through sediment in search of prey They move slowly through the water, but are capable of short bursts of speed to catch prey. Most species are apex predators with no natural predators as adults.

(image: a longnose gar with mouth open, displaying the teeth)

The body of a gar is covered with thick, diamond-shaped scales. Their scales are an ancient variety known as ganoid scales which are notable for their shape and composition. Where most bony fish scales have layers of a spongy, bony substance called cosmene, ganoid scales instead have an enamel-like substance called dentine, which is also a component in teeth. The scales are also covered in a rigid, glassy substance called ganoine where other scales use enameloid. Ganoid scales also don't overlap, instead laying next to each other in a manner that provided protection while still allowing flexibility. The result is a suit of armor that makes gar very durable. Because of how durable the scales are, they habe been used by humans for many purposes. Multiple Native American groups would use scales as arrowheads, there are reports of native Caribbean peoples wearing breastplates made of gar skin, and Europeans colonists would layer their plow heads with the scales to protect the,. There is currently a market for jewelry made of the scales.

(image: a close-up of ganoid scales)

(image: an arrowhead made of a gar scale)

Gar typically lay their eggs in early spring, with the female coating vegetation with thousands of sticky eggs. The eggs are toxic to humans, capable of causing sickness when ingested. Because of this, they are unsuitable for caviar. Scientists initially thought that the toxin was an adaptation to prevent predation, but natural predators of the eggs like channel catfish and bluegill are immune. Crayfish are affected by the eggs, though it's not clear if the poison is an adaptation targeting them or not.

(image: a shortnose gar)

The swim bladder of gar is highly vascularized, allowing them to act as lungs. Most gar will surface occasionally to take a gulp of air. While they are capable of surviving on their gills alone in good-quality water, air gulping allows gar to thrive in low-oxygen water where their prey will be sluggish from oxygen deprivation. Most species live around 20 years, but the alligator gar can live upwards of 70 years.

(image: a spotted gar)

There are seven living species of Gar: the Cuban gar, tropical gar, spotted gar, longnose gar, shortnose gar, Florida gar, and alligator gar. The shortenose gar is the smalles species, reaching an average length of 62.5 cm (24.6 in) while the alligator gar is the largest species and one of the largest of all American freshwater fish at an average length of 1.8 m (6 ft) in length. The largest alligator gar on record measured in 2.57 m (8 ft 5 in) and 148 kg (327 lbs). Alligator gar were long considered a nuisance species by fishermen as they preyed on sportfish and as a result, they were frequently killed. This resulted in population losses and the fish being extirpated from many states it was once native to. Now multiple states have laws and regulations protecting them and the population is starting to see a resurgence. Alligator gar and now a popular sportfish and have been introduced to places outside of their native range, becoming an invasive species in many areas including China.

(image: two fishermen with an alligator gar)

Gar meat is edible and is described as having a very unique taste compared to other fish meat. They are not commonly eaten in modern times, but some people consider them a delicacy. Gar meat is known to carry environmental toxins like pollutants and heavy metals, which can make eating them risky. Gar are mostly fished for their scales or for sport. Only the Cuban car is endangered (and critically so) while other species may be locally endangered, but as a whole are not threatened. Gar are used as aquarium fish due to their unique appearance, though they need large tanks due to their size.

(image: a close-up of an alligator gar's head)

#wet beast wednesday #aquatic biology #fishblr #fish #ecology #zoology #animal facts #gar #longnose gar #shortnose gar #alligator gar

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Record Store)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You woke up to the smell of bacon, your mouth already watering as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep. You stretched out, snuggling further into the warm bed, Tara shifting as she cuddled closer. You looked down, seeing her still sound asleep, you smiled at peace with finally having met Sam and her friends. Sneaking around with her was fun but officially meeting everyone was better, they were so nice, even though Sam was still intimidating you knew you could trust her.

“Morning,” Tara mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Is that bacon?” She pushed herself up, looking around as if she’d be able to see the bacon.

You giggled, pushing your head further into the pillow. Tara hovered above you, looking down at you with a soft smile that hadn’t left her lips since the two of you fell asleep. “Chad did say they’d be back for breakfast,” you said.

“Guess we better get up then, besides Sam isn’t a half bad cook.”

The two of you rolled out of bed after a few more minutes of cuddling. You were both hungry but neither of you had the the desire to leave the warm comfort of the bed. It was getting colder, you wanted to go to the record store, but you didn’t have a desire to be dragged from store to store with Anika with it being so chilly, not when you could stay inside cozied up with Tara where it was warm.

The two of you finally made your way out of the room and into the kitchen where Sam was flipping the last of the breakfast onto a plate. “Morning,” she greeted with a soft smile. “How’d you sleep?”

You sighed, remembering that you had woken up from a nightmare, Tara made it easier to sleep but the nightmares still came. After your talk with Sam, you had gone back to bed and slept peacefully the rest of the night. “Better,” you said your voice still raspy with sleep. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

Tara dragged you to the dining table, refusing to let go of your hand. You rubbed your eyes, thinking maybe you were dreaming at the spread before you. There was bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, biscuits, and a couple boxes of cereal.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Sam said, a light blush decorating her cheeks.

“It all looks amazing,” you said, smiling, as you took your seat at the table.

“She also eats like a five-year-old,” Tara commented, giving you a pointed look as you had a piece of bacon in your mouth. “Would eat pizza rolls and Dino nuggets for every meal if they could.”

You pouted as you finished chewing your bacon. “They’re simple and good,” you defended. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You eat like a child.”

“Sometimes I make mashed potatoes.”

“From a box.”

“Shut up.” You grabbed another piece of bacon, silently chewing on it as you looked down at your plate.

“Good morning!” Chad shouted, flinging the door open as he entered.

“It’s too early for this,” Mindy said, rubbing her temple as she curled into Anika’s side.

“Holy shit!” Chads eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the table of food. He rushed forward, grabbing a plate and began loading it up with everything.

“Damn, Sam,” Mindy said, her eyes wide as well. “Why don’t you ever do this for us?” She chuckled as she grabbed a seat, bringing Anika with her.

After everyone finished breakfast, leaving absolutely nothing left, the six of you headed out, making your way to the record store. There were several record stores downtown and you had been to all of them of course but you had a favorite. The one you liked got all the new vinyl’s when they were released and regularly got in new inventory of older and hard to find albums. The store also had a cat that roamed around and if you were lucky, it let you pet it.

The little bell jingled as you pushed the door open, the sight brought a smile to your face. There were rows upon rows of vinyl’s, all alphabetized or separated by genre. There was a rack up front right by the register filled with everything new. You knew nothing you wanted came out recently, but you still browsed the new releases just in case you missed something. Chad wandered off into one corner, flipping through vinyl of the type of music he liked. Mindy dragged Anika to another corner, but Anika was more than happy to follow.

Tara held your hand, your fingers intertwined as you weaved your way through the rows. There weren’t many people in the store, it was a Saturday, but they hadn’t even been open an hour. You had been here enough times that you didn’t need to look at everything else as you made your way to the section you wanted. You let out a sigh at seeing the little card that said ‘Soundtracks’. Other music was good but getting a vinyl of your favorite movie score or, better yet, a video game score was your favorite. You had most of your favorite scores already but there were older ones you still kept an eye out for. They got old stock in regularly; you never knew when someone would sell their vinyl collection and one you have been after for years would make its way here.

Sam was slowly walking through the aisles, trying not to hover but clearly out of place and sticking close to Tara. You didn’t mind, you were happy Sam seemed to like you so far and that she willingly came out with all of you. Sam had her hands shoved in her pockets as her eyes glanced around the room. You saw her flinch out of the corner of your eye, when you looked to make sure she was okay you saw the little orange store cat rubbing its head against her legs. You smiled, silently chuckling to yourself, the cat loved to jump on the tables and walk around while people were looking but he didn’t usually go right up to people, especially not new people.

“You’re lucky,” you said. “It took me three months of coming here once a week to get him to let me even pet him,” you nodded at the little orange cat.

Sam smiled, she was about to reach down and pet the little guy when he jumped up on the rack of vinyl near her. He perked his little head up, his paws at the edge of the rack as he tried to reach Sam, to force her to pet him. Sam complied and began running her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ears until he lifted his head up, making her scratch under his chin.

“Does this mean we can get a cat?” Tara asked, smiling innocently at Sam.

“Tara,” Sam sighed. She gave her sister a tired look, she opened her mouth to probably deny Tara about a pet but was cut off when the record cat stood on its hind legs and placed its front paws on her chest. She faced the cat, smiling down at it again as she ran her hands down his back again. “I’ll think about it,” she finally mumbled.

Tara didn’t say anything else, she just gave a wide smile and leaned into your side. She squeezed your hand as she cuddled closer to you. You shook your head smiling at her, you knew Tara always wanted a pet of some sort, but her mom always said no and even if Sam wanted a pet, it wasn’t convenient living in the city, in a small apartment. Sam probably didn’t realize saying she’d think about it was basically a yes to Tara, now Sam wouldn’t hear the end of it until she gave an official yes.

With your free hand you flipped through the various soundtracks, most of which you either had or were from something you had never seen before. You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album. You smiled widely; you were sure your eyes were sparkling with childlike glee. You had found it, you had finally found it, it was The Last of Us soundtrack. You had the second one, you had the one from the show, but you had missed out on the one from the first game. You flipped through some more, your excitement reigniting, maybe you’d get lucky and find more than one of the ones you’ve been searching for.

You didn’t find anything else that you had been dying to have but you pulled out the Ghost of Tsushima Iki Island soundtrack. You had been putting off getting it because it was expensive, but more time was passing, and you didn’t want to wait too long and end up missing it. You sighed and stuck in under your arm with the other one.

“Don’t you already have that?” Tara asked, wrapping her arm around yours as she intertwined your hands again. You looked down, smiling, Tara was making it as difficult as possible for you to let go of her hand again.

“I have the Ghost of Tsushima soundtrack,” you answered. “For the main game. This,” you nodded to the vinyl in your hands, “is the Iki Island soundtrack.” Tara raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were insane. “Iki Island was an expansion.” Tara continued to only blink at you. “They’re completely different!”

Tara opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when Chad came stumbling towards you guys, nearly dropping all the stuff in his arms. “This place is amazing!” he said, looking around at everything as he tried to re-situate his hands.

All three of you laughed at Chad struggling. “Are you serious?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked the boy up and down.

Chad looked down at the pile in his arms. “Well, I like this music,” he nodded to the stack of vinyl’s in his arm. “And I need a record player,” he nodded to his other hands. He had a small record player tucked under his arm and it looked like a nice one, probably over a hundred bucks. “Otherwise, me buying the vinyl would just be crazy.”

The three of you shook your heads as you watched Chad make his way to the front counter. He somehow managed to set everything on the counter without dropping a thing. The three of you made your way up behind him, watching as the owner rang up the record player then each of the vinyl, which Chad managed to find several of.

“Your total is three-hundred and forty-two dollars,” the owner said once he had everything scanned.

“Holy shit,” Tara said, looking up at Chad with wide eyes. “Are you insane?”

Chad furrowed his brow as he looked down at Tara while he struggled to fish out his wallet.

“How are you going to afford that?” Sam asked. “You don’t even have a job.”

“Emergency credit card,” Chad answered, holding up the little blue credit card. He smiled as he handed it to the man behind the counter. The man sighed taking the card before swiping it.

“Mom is going to kill you,” Mindy said, joining them at the counter with Anika in tow. “That’s meant for food and necessities.”

“Yeah, and you going to the movies last week was a necessity?”

Mindy crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “The movies isn’t three-hundred dollars.”

“Tickets are over fifteen!”

“That’s not the point!”

You shook your head, pushing your way to the front of the counter while the twins argued. Tara and Sam seemed to already be ignoring them, you had a feeling that it was an hourly occurrence for them.

“I’ll take this,” Anika said, sliding next to you as she plopped The Last of Us vinyl out of your hands. You opened your mouth to stop her, but she didn’t let you get a word out as she held up a hand to silence you. “I told you I would buy you a soundtrack for hugging you to tightly.” The owner behind the counter gave the two of you a weird side glance but continued to bag Chad’s vinyl’s. “So, I am buying this for you.” She gently shoved you away, putting herself at the front of the line and smiling at the man as she sat down your vinyl and the one, she picked out.

“How don’t you already have Hamilton?” you nodded to the vinyl she was buying for herself. “You love that play. You’ve made me watch it over a dozen times.”

“It’s expensive,” she said, holding out her card for the man. “I mean it’s Hamilton!” you chuckled, shaking your head at her. She wasn’t wrong, it was a bit more pricey than the average album. “And there’s a sale going on, so I have to grab it.”

“Of course.” You made your way back to the front as Anika grabbed her bag of stuff. You handed over your vinyl and card as the man rang it up.

“Just be prepared when you come over,” Anika said, shifting her bag around as she pulled out the album she bought for you so you could slip it in your own bag. “I will be listening to nothing else of the next six months.”

“I know how you are.” You smiled at the owner, thanking him as you grabbed the bag of your stuff.

The twins continued to argue as the six of you left the record store. Anika was quick to point to a costume shop across the street that she literally dragged Mindy to. The other four of you followed close behind them. Tara took the bag with your purchases, carrying it in her other hand so she could still keep ahold of you, and you didn’t have to carry a bag in your injured hand, even though you were down to just the brace it tended to ache after a while.

You didn’t know how long you were in the costume shop but when you all left it was the afternoon and Anika had several bundles of fabric and other types of material for costumes. She struggled to carry all of her bags, looking at Mindy with puppy dog eyes to try and get her girlfriend to help out. Mindy scoffed and continued to walk, saying that since she bought everything, she could carry it.

As the six of you made your way down the street you hit up some more shops. There were a few card or sport memorabilia shops Chad wanted to go in, that all of you begrudgingly followed him into since he was going to the stores you wanted. You were sure by the end of the trip Chad had spent near a thousand dollars, all on his emergency credit card. You didn’t necessarily agree that going to the movies was an emergency, but you did agree with Mindy, Chad would certainly be hearing from their mom.

For a late lunch you all stopped at a little Chinese restaurant, laughing and joking around about the day and the amount of money Chad spent. Every time someone brought up one of Chad’s purchases, he was quick to defend himself and explain why it was crucial he bought it today. You didn’t know everything he bought besides the stuff at the record store, but he left with bags full in every sports shop you all entered, and he had more than one jersey in his hand. You might not have known much about sports, but you were aware jerseys were expensive and you were sure being the sports guy that he was that Chad wouldn’t settle for less than the nice ones.

When you finally made it back to the Carpenters apartment, Tara pulled you down onto the couch, cuddling up to you as she rested her head on your shoulder. None of you said a word, just enjoying the silence as Chad struggled to open his record player, saying he needed to test it out and make sure everyone was educated on good music. When he had it set up, he opened one of his records and music quickly filled the once quiet apartment.

Chad jumped to his feet and instantly began dancing, he tried to pull Sam into a dance, but she quickly found herself needing to go to the kitchen. Chad waved her off, not letting it kill his mood as he continued to dance alone. Mindy laughed and shook her head at her brother, pouting once Anika got off her lap and took pity on Chad, joining him in his dancing.

You laughed and had fun with Tara and her friends. You had just met Sam, Mindy, and Chad officially the day before but once you got Sam’s approval, they were quick to welcome you into the group. You talked with them and teased Chad along with them as if you had always known them. It got so late that Tara convinced Sam to let you stay the night again, this time the others took up the offer to stay as well.

While Tara dragged you to her room for the night Anika, Mindy, and Chad were getting themselves situated in the living room. Mindy took one end of the couch while Anika took the other since it wasn’t a pullout couch. Sam tossed Chad some extra blankets and pillows and he made himself a little nest on the floor.

“They like you,” Tara whispered as she played with your hair in the darkness of her room.

“I like them,” you whispered back.

“Just remember you’re my girlfriend first,” she sat up and through the dark you knew she was giving you a pointed look.

“Don’t worry,” you leaned up and kissed her. “I won’t choose them over you.”

“Good,” she cuddled back into your side.

“Unless Anika gets tickets to Hamilton,” you added. “Then you’re on your own that night.”

Tara lightly smacked your shoulder, careful not to hit any of your injuries. You lightly chuckled, wrapping your injured arm around her as best as you could. She continued to snuggle into your side with the help of you pulling her as close as you could. Your ribs ached from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it as your body slowly settled down.

“Love you,” you mumbled into Tara’s hair. You heard her mumble a reply, but sleep had already mostly taken her, with you following soon after.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #this isn't your fault

[visualtaehyun]

DFF language notes and observations

This was originally just supposed to be a quick look at Non's meds in ep. 8 but then I finished watching the episode and felt compelled to rewatch the entire show 🫠 So might as well collect everything into one post!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Por's mumblings (ep. 2)

กูขอโทษ อย่าเอาคืนกูเลย /guu khaaw thoht. yaa ao kheuun guu loei/ = "I'm sorry. Don't take revenge on me/Don't get back at me."

Time and ages

The present takes place in 2023, the past was three years ago, in 2020. Apart from White, the boys are all the same age according to the character overview below, which makes them all 19-20 years old in the present (while White is 18 and a freshman). In the past up to ep. 8, they would have been 16-17 years old and in 11th grade (ม. 5/3 -> Matthayom 5, class 3; ม. stands for มัธยม /mat tha yohm/ = secondary school).

Potty mouth Fluke

In the present, I swear every other word out of his mouth is a swear and the subs don't always make it obvious. An example of when he's speaking calmly in ep. 3:

เพราะคนอย่างไอ้เหี้ยท็อปอ่ะ แม่งคงไม่ปล่อยให้โอกาสแบบเนี่ยะหลุดมือไปง่ายๆละเว่ย /phraw khohn yaang ai hia Top a- maaeng khohng mai blaawy hai oh gaat baaep niia loot meuu bpai ngaai ngaai la woei/ = Because someone like that dipshit Top wouldn't fucking let an opportunity like this slip his hands so easily.

It's not like the others don't curse, they sure do lol, but Fluke does so even when not in a stressful situation, and it sticks out in contrast to White especially because the baby speaks so properly and politely to his phis.

Newspaper clipping (ep. 4)

เป็นแฟนไอ้ตี๋แต่มึงไม่รู้จักอาโจ้นะ /bpen faaen ai Tee dtaae meung mei ruu jak aa Joe na/ = You're Tee's boyfriend but don't know uncle Joe?

The headline reads: ตายปริศนา'เสี่ยโจ้'นายบ่อนใหญ่ /dtaai bprit sa naa 'siia Joe' naai baawn yai/ = Mysterious death of 'bigwig* Joe' the gambling magnate** ฟอกเงินบัญชีม้ากว่า 300 ล้าน /faawk ngern ban chee maa gwaa 300 laan/ = Laundered money with over 300 million mule accounts

* เสี่ย /siia/ = a rich guy who squanders money, a big spender in illicit businesses, mostly used for middle-aged men; it's used as a pronoun, hence why he's known as เสี่ยโจ้ /siia Joe/ and we hear his subordinates call him เสี่ย /siia/, often subbed as Boss; it's a term of Teochew origin that describes an aristocrat's son, originally ** นายบ่อนใหญ่ /naai baawn yai/ = big shot gambling den boss or the boss of a huge gambling den

The snippet on the right is another easter egg btw - 'Talking to Pond Krisda, director of "Man Suang", Thai filmmaking [...]' but I can't make out the rest in that box (the snippet above that, too, though some of it I can tell says tourists, free visa, 3 months).

Greasy

What the boys call Non is (ไอ้)เมือก /(ai) meuuak/ which is more like Slimy or Mucous, actually.

More news (ep. 6, 7, 8)

Gang of senior high teens accomplices to mule accounts

Police does 180: Senior high teens escape lawsuit for shady mule accounts

High school kid goes missing at same time as teacher in leaked clip Connected to case of shady mule account teens

Past injury?

Whoever actually leaked the clip has this pelvis x-ray saved that's labeled to be from that same year, 2563 aka 2020. The two files at the top look to be invoices.

Pronouns

When Phee goes to confront Non about the leaked clip, he's so furious that he switches from their usual เรา /rao/ (= I; informal) + calling each other by name instead of using a 2nd pers. pronoun to calling both Non and Keng มึง /meung/ (= you; impolite) and himself กู /guu/ (= I; impolite). For reference, กู/มึง /guu, meung/ are the same pronouns the entire friend group use with each other, as male friends in Thai shows often do. Non, as the new addition to the group, is the only one who uses เรา /rao/ + names, and Jin is the only who reciprocally uses these pronouns with him.

Non's meds

Lorazepam -> benzodiazepine; used for treating anxiety disorders, insomnia, seizures etc.

Sertraline -> antidepressant; used for treating clinical depression, PTSD, OCD, panic disorder, social anxiety disorder

Quetiapine -> antipsychotic; used for treating schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, clinical depression etc.

THC poster, and a goof

ที่แห่งนี้...ไม่ได้มีแค่พวกเรา /thee haaeng nee...mai dai mee khaae puuak rao/ = In this place... it's not just us.

I'm sure there's more going on than just Phee and Tan infiltrating the group to get evidence and avenge Non. Like, Keng was on the phone with his contact Joy when he got hit by that white truck of doom car so I wonder if she's gonna come into play again in the present and who she really is.

And just for fun: that half-heartedly covered poster behind Tee looks suspiciously like a movie about a young chocolatier that shouldn't be out for another 3 years, according to the time line of this show lol

#dead friend forever #dff the series #dead friend forever spoilers #dff spoilers #dff meta #but is it though?? i'm mostly just translating shit #local woman harps on about linguistics #spoiler tags just to be safe ✊

[extrajigs]

Wanted to expand on some domesticated animals of Mirum. These are basically cat-dog birds, ranging in size from cat to medium sized dog. Still need a name for group over all, suggestions appreciated! In depth info below the cut! 

1. The OG This is the wild ancestral form, basically the wolf to the dog. They are from the grass/shrub lands of Mirum and spend most of the year scrounging around for food until the end of the wet season. Once the floods are over they pop out babies like nobodies business while feeding on the debris left by the flooding. By the time fire season rolls around their numbers are pretty scarce. They travel in little groups with multiple hens and one big buff man! But this man does not necessarily need to be a male, or a bird even! They were the first species domesticated by the chimera and the only one to leave Mirum with them.  The ‘Natural’ Breeds These are just the morphs bred into these fellas without any magical manipulation involved, so they still look relatively close to their wild ancestors.  2. The Cupid  These are purely pets, originally kept just for eggs they lost that purpose as more efficient birds came around for that. Now they just make docile lil lapbirds. Though inattentive owners will find old eggs hidden throughout the house if they’re not careful. Most of the time though they tend to stay by their owners ankles.  3. The Ruff Fluffy lil guys who make for great pest control, they’re a very sporty breed despite everything and need a lot of energy to stop them from destroying their surroundings out of boredom. Will do well with another ruff or dog of similar size, though they can be a bit of a bully in the care of a lax owner. 4. The Gallop Literally just made for running, can keep up with a chimera at full sprint and at a normal long distance run. For those with a more active lifestyle. Though they will just as happily laze around all day, just happy to be included honestly. These are also the best swimmers of the natural breeds with their extra oily coat.  5. The Dome This is a purely ornamental bird, stocky and colorful they are the most relaxed of all the birds. Most prefer chimeric company to that of other birds and have a habit of separation anxiety when not with their owner. In line with that, these are the most accepting of chimeric ‘talk’ with most quickly getting accustomed to projected commands. Though please don’t overwhelm your bird, casting the full range of sentient experience unto lesser beings CAN and WILL cause them existential distress! Not to mention your personality may displace your pet’s. 6. The Fluff  The original pillow stuffing. These guys feathers are softer than any other. Keeping a mostly downy ‘undercoat’ for their whole life. That being said these guys can get absolutely RANCID if not kept clean and tidy. Only for the most advanced and attentive of owners unless you want an unholy dingleberry beast skulking around. They also are VERY bitey.  7. Crested These are historically for eating, but have grown to be a very pish posh fancy breed. Most are pure white, thanks to inbreeding, and albeit are not the sharpest tools in the shed. But if you are looking for a bird who may just ignore your commands but love you eternal, this is your bird! 

That’s them so far, will make the magical monstrosities later. Also wanted to try a different lineart style. Thin is nice but I miss my chunky brush. Glad to have tried it though! 

#mirum #chimera #chimera adjacent really #fantasy #birds #need name aaaah i cant think of a good one for these still tho HM #speculative biology #spec bio #Speculative Evolution #spec evo #art #no true north

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Thank you for you blog! I love it so much - I come here daily to read your latest posts.

I'd love to own a snake but alas, I currently live in New Zealand so no snakes for me.

Do you have cool facts about tuatara? I do but I'd love readers of your blog to learn about these cool little reptiles!

It's a huge dream of mine to work with tuatara one day! I've always loved the reptile life of Oceania and literally the only reason I haven't already moved to Australia or even Aotearoa/NZ is because of the limitations on keeping non-native species.

Anyway, aren't tuatara just the coolest? For those unfamiliar, tuatara (Sphenodon punctatus) might look like lizards, but they're not! Tuatara are the only surviving members of Rhynchocephalia, the sister order to Squamata, the scaled reptiles (lizards, snakes, and amphisbaenians).

Rhynchocephalians used to be very widespread, but today they exist only in limited populations in Aotearoa. They were almost driven to extinction by habitat loss and pressure from invasive species, and for a long time the only wild populations were on offshore islands. In a huge success for tuatara conservation, though, populations were reintroduced onto the North Island and there are now hatchlings being born on the North Island for the first time in centuries. There's still so much work to be done to help these amazing reptiles, but it's worth celebrating! The Chester Zoo in England has also welcomed tuatara hatchlings, meaning tuatara have been successfully bred outside of Aotearoa for the first time and indicating possible future success for wider zoo breeding programs across the world!

Tuatara have many anatomical features that are unique among reptiles, and they tell us a lot about the extinct rhynchocephalians. Their teeth arrangement is unique among reptiles, and their lower jaws can slide to cut through bone. They're the only known amniotes who have hourglass-shaped vertebrae, and they have gastralia (belly ribs). Even if they might look kinda like lizards on the outside, their skeleton is wildly different!

Tuatara have the most well-developed parietal eyes of any vertebrates. These are "third eyes" that sit on top of the head, and in most reptiles who have them they're extremely primitive, but in tuatara they have well-developed retinas and a cornea-like structure! Parietal eyes are covered by a thin layer of skin and probably help with thermoregulation and day/night cycle regulation.

They are carnivores and eat a wide diet of insects, lizards, and birds. Juvenile tuatara will hunt during the day so they can avoid being eaten themselves by adult tuatara, who hunt at night.

The name "tuatara" comes from te reo Māori, and means "peaks on the back," a reference to the spines along a tuatara's back. Tuatara are sexually dimorphic, and the spines are larger and more rigid in males. They're used in breeding and defensive displays!

One of the challenges for tuatara conservation is how long it takes them to reach sexual maturity - about 10-20 years, and they tend to have very small egg clutches. They've been recorded to lay up to 19 eggs, but a more typical clutch is as small as 3-6 eggs or even a single egg. These eggs also take over a year to be laid and hatch. They have the slowest growth rates of any reptile, reaching full size at around 30 years and having an average lifespan of around 60 but lifespans closer to 100 not being uncommon.

The oldest known tuatara is named Henry, and he lives at the Invercargill museum on the South Island. He's at least 120 but may be as old as 150, and is still fathering healthy clutches!

Tuatara are simply incredible. They're so unique among living reptiles, and they have so much to tell us about a mostly-extinct order of reptiles. Plus, like, you can't deny they're so cool and adorable!

#not a rating #tuatara #tuatara anatomy #sorry for the long post. being asked to talk about tuatara awakens something within me #long post

[gretagerwigsmuse]

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay (part 1.5/2)

Summary: in which bradley is getting honored with an award and his girlfriend tries to be there for him…even though her feelings towards the navy are complicated to say the least

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

A/N: listen…even spunky, smart aleck girlfriends get down sometimes! so this little snippet is literally just angst (sorry!). but our favorite slutty couple will be back at it (literally) in all their depraved glory soon enough in part 2. takes place 6 months after Part 1. i wasn’t originally planning on showing anything from our best girl’s pov, but lord she needed to get this one out 😭 thanks to sol for all the encouragement and help on this one! (2.5k)

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

After you and Bradley finished watching another episode of some HBO show you were both obsessed with, the two of you dragged yourselves off the couch to clean up the kitchen before you headed off to bed. Naturally, you had argued in favor of cleaning the kitchen before decompressing with two episodes worth of this year’s favorite Sunday night drama, but Bradley had other plans and you’d made it about thirty seconds into the initial cleanup before he had streaked some excess flour across your cheek, teasing you by licking it off.

“There’s no way raw flour tastes that good,” you’d let out between your giggles, but he was relentless.

“Must just be you then…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you for a kiss while he backed you up against the kitchen island. He bunched up your pencil skirt that you hadn’t yet changed out of after work and slid his knee between your legs. 

“Okay, fine, fine,” you said breathlessly, “we can clean up later…” 

Once you’d finally made it into the living room, you had to restart the episode three times before he managed to keep his hands to himself for longer than thirty seconds. Not that you’d really tried that hard to stop him. 

But now, you were both a little tired and a little messy as you’d cleaned up the dishes from the homemade pasta you two had made. You’d gotten the recipe from your favorite food influencer - this unbelievably cool girl around your age who was based out of LA - and had been on Bradley to try it for weeks. While you had originally planned to make dinner at your apartment - a far too impersonal two bedroom high rise in the Gaslamp Quarter near Petco Park - you didn’t have a pasta maker attachment for your Kitchen Aid mixer - yet for some reason Bradley did. He had looked so pleased as he’d unearthed it from one of the upper kitchen cabinets, still in the box, a wedding gift he’d forgotten to give someone ages ago.

Ever the team, you had made the sauce while Bradley had made the pasta, humming along to music as you both worked in tandem. He had given a rousing performance of Hall & Oates’ Rich Girl, dancing around the kitchen with you as he professed the song always reminded him of you whenever he heard it - in a good way, I promise! - he had been sure to clarify. You chose to take it as a compliment.

The food had been delicious, along with the wine you had picked up after work. The only downside was that homemade pasta unfortunately made for a lot of dishes and cleanup. While Bradley was putting the last of the assorted mixing bowls and plates in the dishwasher, you grabbed the carton of eggs and the wine off the island to put back in the refrigerator when something caught your eye as you closed the door.

…invited…October 15th…

“What’s this?” 

You slipped the thick card stock invitation off Bradley’s fridge, a teasing smile on your face. It was wedged behind a picture of Bradley and his parents, an old save-the-date from a wedding last spring, and a picture of Bradley and Pete, as you knew him, from last fall. You caught a glimpse at the words Pacific Fleet…awards gala…Hotel del Coronado…October 15th -

“- Bradley, this is next weekend?”

“Is it?” He leaned over your shoulder to read the invitation.

“Yeah, next Saturday.” You kept reading, a smile lighting up your face as you noticed his name on the invitation. “No way! It says you’re getting an award, too? Bradley, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bradley shrugged and avoided eye contact. “It didn’t seem - important, I guess?”

He was getting an award. Bradley, your boyfriend, was getting an award along with two others in the entire Pacific Fleet. And he hadn’t even told you. Why?

“It sounds pretty important…” Sadness quickly crossed over your face as realization dawned. “Wait, you - do you not want me to come? Is that why you didn’t mention it?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could think better of it. 

“No, no, I - I just - I just didn’t know if it was something you’d want to do? Like it’s a Navy thing and I didn’t think you’d want to go -”

“- Oh.” You glanced down and shrunk in on yourself. Oh. You were right - he didn’t want you there. Probably didn’t want you there to embarrass him. Worried about what you might say - and to who. 

You suddenly remember how awkward you had felt the first time Bradley had come home from a longer deployment. He had been on the detail for the Speaker of the House’s visit to Taiwan, on stand-by should naval air support be needed. It was for ten days, nothing major. But you had been on edge the entire time, not helped by the fact that the visit was so public and renowned that it was all over the news. You’d set up push notifications for practically every newspaper - one from the Economist had practically given you an anxiety attack - and had taken to working longer hours when he was gone, pushing yourself to the limit to think about something, anything other than the fact that you hadn’t told your boyfriend of five months that you were in love with him yet. 

And what if you never got the chance?

But then the call came in - he was coming home. You’d quickly called Natasha, who hadn’t been chosen for the mission due to a prior commitment, and asked if you were supposed to meet Bradley down at the base after. You’d never gone before, didn’t even know which gate to go through. But Natasha just laughed you off, telling you how to get there, where to park, and the best spot to stand to ensure Bradley would see you right away.

And so maybe it had been the nerves or reading obsessively about the Speaker’s visit, but you had gotten chatty as you were waiting with all the other families and loved ones. You didn’t know how it happened really, one minute you were telling the man next to you that you were waiting for your boyfriend and the next you were ranting about the EEZ, advanced microchip exports, the futility of the US government’s One China policy, and the big dick exercise that were Chinese military drills in the Taiwan Strait. 

The man had been a retired Rear Admiral who was waiting for his son. His son, who flew with Bradley as you found out when the two of them came up to you both. Amidst all your hugging and kissing and welcome home speech, the retired Rear Admiral had patted Bradley on the back and said that one’s got quite the mouth on her. Neither of you knew quite what to say. With the mood effectively killed, you didn’t even say I love you to Bradley as you originally had planned. 

Instead, you’d merely blurted it out as he was making you coffee the next morning. He’d just smiled and said I love you, too - like it was so obvious that you were ever in any doubt and that he even needed to say it. Soon, the mean old Rear Admiral’s comments were long forgotten as you showed Bradley (again) all the different ways you had missed him while he had been away - protecting the free world and all that jazz.

Until now.

You swallowed, hoping your voice didn’t sound too thick. “I mean, my boyfriend’s getting an award, seems like kind of a big deal - but it’s cool. I can - I can always see what the girls are up to that night, maybe see that new -”

That was a lie. You knew you’d just hang out at your apartment all night - alone. 

“- Sweetheart - ” 

You shook your head and stepped out of his arms, leaving the invitation on the kitchen island. “It’s okay, really. I think I’m - I’m just gonna shower and get ready for bed. I have that early meeting tomorrow morning, so…”

It wasn’t even ten yet, but Bradley didn’t push it. “Oh. Yeah, I’ll just finish cleaning up then?”

You pulled him down for a kiss, which was far too brief for either of your liking and dashed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom before he could notice the tears forming in your eyes. You shut the door behind you, squeezing your eyes shut as a few wayward tears trickled down your face. God, you were not a girl who cried easily. 

(Lies, you just didn’t let anyone see you.)

As you absentmindedly grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for bed, you whipped out your phone, searching the event and pouring over the official website, looking at pictures from years past, and marveling at how fancy everything looked. You closed the bathroom door behind you and sat on the toilet lid while you waited for the shower to heat up. Scrolling further down the page, while you noticed that the aggressively patriotic decor was a bit much for you, contrary to popular belief, you did understand how important Bradley’s job was. And you understood what it meant for him and his career to be presented with an award at something like this. It wasn’t quite a Medal of Honor or anything like that, but it was still important. It would still mean something. 

Something to Bradley. Which meant something to you.

You hopped into the shower, a little dazed, realizing that you were now crying in earnest. You started shampooing and conditioning your hair on autopilot, going over what happened in the kitchen. Were you making too big of a deal out of this? No - it was completely valid for you to be upset. Especially with how different things had been between you both lately. 

The bottle of face wash you were using almost slipped out of your hands as you realized something. Natasha had asked you last week - early last week - if you had anyone you could set her up with for an event? You hadn’t thought much of the event, itself, just that Natasha - one of the coolest girls you had ever met - had wanted you to set her up with someone, someone from outside the Navy. That she had trusted you enough to do this. 

This was the same event. 

The same event that Bradley had to have known about for over a week now, that plus-ones were clearly invited to, that Natasha had assumed you’d be invited to attend. You leaned your forehead against the shower wall.

Why didn’t Bradley want you to come with him? Was he going with someone else? Someone who - no. 

No, no, no. He would never do that. You couldn’t believe the thought had even crossed your mind. Bradley loved you. Bradley wanted to be with you. Bradley put up with all your neurosis and your late hours at the office and made you cum so hard you occasionally cried and held you in his arms all night. 

Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He’d said he did.)

Maybe you just wanted Bradley to love you like you loved him - openly and without restraint or abandon. You wanted him to love the you that he had first met. The strong, confident girl at the bar, who wasn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Not the one who was so scared her boyfriend was going to break up with her that she had taken to savoring every last kiss, touch, and I love you between the two of you because you just knew it was going to end. He was going to end things. 

You knew you weren’t like all the other girlfriends and wives and partners. You wanted to be someone he didn’t have to second guess about bringing to Navy events or even after work drinks at the Hard Deck. Baring Natasha, you had only met Bradley’s friends twice - via a dinner party at his place and then out for drinks once in San Diego proper. You had originally thought that that was an accident, but now you weren’t so sure.

You didn’t want Bradley to have to choose between you and the Navy. You would never ask him to do that and what was worse, he would never make you feel like you had to or that he resented you for it. 

Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He had told you a couple weeks ago.)

So, why hadn’t he asked you to go to this awards gala with him? Why didn’t he want you? 

You put your face directly underneath the shower head, hoping the water would make your face less puffy. You had always been an ugly crier - always one to let your emotions drive your actions. You thought that was one of the things Bradley liked about you - your strong convictions - but maybe he had changed? Maybe he didn’t want that anymore? Maybe he wanted someone he wasn’t embarrassed about? Was he always wondering if you’d say a snarky comment to the wrong person? He probably got teased about it at work. 

That one’s got quite the mouth on her.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Bradley’s footfalls on the tile a few seconds later. For the first time since you had started dating, you desperately hoped he wouldn’t join you in the shower. He’d take one look at you, your puffy, red rimmed eyes, and turn the other way. But luckily, he simply called out:

“You okay in there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped your voice wasn’t too choked. “Yeah, fine. My uhh - my shoulder just hurts. Wanted to keep it under the hot water for a bit.” Your shoulder had never bothered you in your life. 

You practically held your breath as you waited for Bradley to respond from behind the shower curtain. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna brush my teeth…”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a few.”

You didn’t move the entire time he was brushing his teeth and even for the few moments after he’d left the bathroom. Fuck. You had to get it together. This was getting pathetic. With one last wipe of your eyes, you turned off the water and dried yourself off a bit before stepping out of the shower. 

Bradley had moved your clothes from the vanity to the hooks right by the shower so you didn’t have to tiptoe across the room, tracking water along the way. The silly and inconsequential, but still stupidly thoughtful, action made your heart clench. Then, you went through your nightly routine almost on autopilot, putting on your pajamas, brushing your teeth and hair, doing your skincare routine, all while trying not to cry again.

Eventually, when you saw that Bradley had turned off the lights in the bedroom, you left your bathroom sanctuary and made your way across the other room, crawling into bed beside him. You burrowed your face in his chest, clinging onto him desperately as if you could will him to love you more. 

Neither of you said anything, you just laid there, holding each other, his hand slowly rubbing your back, until you eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the steady beat of his heart reminding you that he was still there with you. 

At least for now.

[Part 1] [Part 2.1]

taglist: i added a couple people who mentioned they wanted a part 2 to the taglist, but def didn’t add everyone, so if you’d like to be added let me know!

@sunderlust​ @seasonsbloom​ @ticklish-leafy-plant​ @ponyboys-sunsets​ @lass-that-is-gone​ @2fabul0us4​ @daniellef89x​ @double-j @bradshawswife @thedarkinmansfield​ @sithbelova​ @edensbuttercups​ @mavencalorers​ @m-1234​ @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone​ @unordinare​ @callsign-valley​ @pricklepearbloom​ @browneyedboys​ @cloudederin​ @cherrycola27​ @whatblogisthis216​ @agentofkrypton​ @kyliesalvatore​ @jocsrecs​ @noellreadfiction​ @coyotesamachado​ @heartsofminds​ @notroosterbradshaw​

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster imagine #top gun imagine #writing #rest and know we WILL get bradley's side of things! #bradley and smart aleck #bradley fic

[quillpokebiology]

Delphox Facts

(Art by kisa (kisa-kisa5900) on Danbooru)

-The scientific name for Delphox is "Vulpes Mystica" which translates to "Magic Fox"

-Delphox are vulpines, and their closest relatives are Ninetales and Thievul

-Delphox have the second longest lifespan of any foxmon, being able to live for hundreds of years. The first ones for that spot is Ninetales and Hisuian Zoroark, who are able to live for 1,000 years

-In the wild, Delphox can be found in Kalosian forests, deserts, and chapparals. They make their homes in large caves or dens

-Delphox have a large personality shift from Braixen, becoming more calm and collected instead of temperamental and moody

-While all vulpines are intelligent, Delphox's use of sticks for magic may show that they're the smartest amongst the vulpines

-Delphox can go up to a week without water (give them water regularly though, it's still not pleasant for them)

-Delphox's large ears help them regulate their body temperature and give off excess heat. It also makes them doubly perceptive, enhancing their psychic abilities

-While Delphox are solitary, they sometimes come in groups to practice their psychic abilities and meet with other Delphox and Braixen

-Delphox are monogamous and most often lay up to 1-6 eggs in a liter

-The thick black markings around their eyes help reflect away their fires glare, which makes it easier to focus on hunting and visions

-In 1600s-1700s, people with a Braixen/Delphox were thought to be witches. Since they were said to have immunity to fire, these people were drowned or hung instead of burned

-In old Kalosian legends, they eye of a Delphox is said to grant psychic powers and ward off evil spirits

-Delphox are known to be quite particular about their fur, spending a lot of time grooming it. If a Delphox's fur is matted, it is often a sign that they are sick

-They are Crepsculular, meaning they are awake through the evening and night

-Delphox will set torches around their territory as a warning sign for other pokemon and so they can see. This often backfires with humans, however, with many mistaking the torches showing a man-made path

If you're curious, here are Fennekin and Braixen facts!

#quill pokefacts #delphox #pokedex #kalosian pokedex #pokemon #pokeblog #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #irl pokemon #pokeblr #rotumblr #pkmn irl #pokemon roleplay #irl pkmn #pokemon biology

[the-family-business-83]

Unexpected Calling – Part I

Masterlist - WIP

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.

Word count: 1.6k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!

A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.

After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.

If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.

There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.

What the helll...?

Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.

It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.

'Dear mister,

My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.

My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.

– Rosie'

"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.

Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."

'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'

He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...

Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.

He knew that face.

He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.

In short?

He had to do it now.

He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.

But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.

Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn

#marvel #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #marvelfanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #wintersoldierfanfic #buckybarnesfanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #reader insert #mcu fanfiction #mcufanfic

[mystra-midnight]

Haunted Hoedown - DAY ONE

summary: it was like white-hot lightning engulfed your body, setting your world on fire. lights of red and yellow flashed behind your eyes like a disco dance from hell. eddie didn't try to keep you quiet this time.

warnings: teenage!eddie x housewife!reader. unprotected sex. tiny hint of praise kink. hints of dacryphilia. overstimunation. squirting. age gap (eddie’s is 18, readers is 34). cheating (i don't condone this outside the world of fiction). readers husband and kids have names but reader doesn't; no use of y/n. reader has some body insecurities (but is a total milf in my head tbh).

words: 5.3k

notes: day one of the haunted hoedown challenge being hosted by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. i'm usually terrible at writing for challenges but i've had so much muse for eddie munson that this literally jumped off the pages. i might had missed the mark with the au setting tbh.

prompt: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

You woke slowly, sleep heavy in your head, as the twittering of morning birds roused you when you wished it hadn't. The world was still dark, the cresting sunlight hardly peaking over the horizon to illuminate it. On your bedside table, your alarm clock flashed, the hard red numbers burning your eyes.

6:30. Blink. 6:30. Blink. 6:31.

Groaning, you reached up to rub your tired eyes, disturbing the crusties that had formed overnight as you swung your legs to the side of the bed. Your bare feet touch the cold tiles, drawing a shiver down the length of your spine.

It was another mundane Monday: wake up, wake your teenage son, wake the twins, make everyone breakfast, get the twins dressed, drive everyone to school, do the weekly shopping, come home, and clean the house before cooking dinner.

You'd had the same routine every week, every Monday, like clockwork, for the past fifteen years. It wasn't that you regretted marrying your husband or having children. You loved them all, but life had felt boring lately—plain and boring.

You lived a comfortable life. Not above your means or in the lap of luxury, but comfortably. You weren't a nineteen-year-old wild child anymore. You were thirty-four, a mature mother. And this morning, it sucked.

Peter touched you for the first time in weeks last night, and it wasn't with a young lover's rage. He'd laid between your legs for an hour until an orgasm punched the air from your lungs, huffing and complaining the entire time, making your climax take longer than it should have. He'd made it seem almost like a chore, and you hadn't said anything; you'd rolled over and gone to sleep, like you had every other time.

And try as you might to understand him, it still hurt. It had been years since he'd surprised you with flowers just because he wanted to. He didn't initiate sex like he used to; there were no spontaneous romps in the kitchen while the kids were out and no skinny-dipping in the pool at midnight.

You knew you'd put on some weight after the birth of the twins. It was harder to lose this time around, and even though he still said you were beautiful and kissed all the parts of your body that you hated, it didn't feel the same anymore. He didn't look at you with wild desire anymore.

You tried to shove your hurt down deep; time changed things; it changed him and you. At least that was what you told yourself while you brushed your teeth, staring at the crows' feet that cinched the edges of your eyes. And you told yourself again as you woke your teenage son, who was in the stage of life where he thought he was ten-foot-tall and bulletproof; he’d inherited your sense of sarcasm, as your husband often reminded you.

And you told yourself a third time while you fried sausage links and scrambled eggs. And finally, you told yourself this for the last time when your husband rushed into the kitchen, panicking because he'd overslept and would be late for work again. He'd barely stopped to acknowledge the breakfast spread on the table. He shoved a triangle of toast into his mouth and then was out the front door without so much as a goodbye.

The next few hours blurred together as you finished getting the twins ready for kindergarten while your teenage son protested having to go to school at all, claiming it was stupid, pointless, and useless. Somehow, by some miracle or divine intervention, you managed to get them all ready and to school on time. But that brought you to your current predicament.

There, sitting on the kitchen counter, was the lunch you'd so lovingly packed for your son. You felt your blood boiling with annoyance, your brain skipping between letting him go hungry or taking it to him. But no matter how mad you were, you couldn't let him starve.

So you drove back to the school, fifteen minutes away, for the second time. A little bell rang as you shoved the door open, which drew Lotti's attention from where she sat behind the front desk. She smiled as you approached.

"Let me guess, Corey forgot his lunch again?"

Her lips were tipped into a kind smile, one that mirrored your own tired expression. You hummed with dry amusement before placing the brown paper bag on the counter. "Walked right past it. I swear sometimes he does it on purpose."

"Sounds about right. Teenagers right?"

"You’re telling me. Can you make sure it gets to him before lunch?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, Lotti," you said with a smile before stepping away from the counter. You had every intention of leaving and going to do the weekly shopping, but you stopped when you saw Eddie Munson sitting on one of the waiting room chairs. He was sitting with his head in his hands, hiding his face, but you could see he was pale and clammy.

Most people wouldn't have given him the time of day, but you liked Eddie. He was friends with your son and was always polite and helpful when he spent the night. He would wash up the dishes and play with the twins to give you a much-needed break.

Eddie was a good kid.

He wasn't trailer trash, as some people had taken to calling him. It always infuriated you when you heard them say such vile things about Eddie and his uncle. People were quick to throw stones, but none of them ever took the time to get to know the people they judged.

You gently placed a hand on his shoulder but still startled the poor boy. Eddie jerked back in his seat and stared up at you with big brown eyes, his raised eyebrows hidden behind his wild curls, and eyes glistening with unshed tears. Your heart broke all over again.

"Eddie, baby, what’s going on? Are you alright?"

"I don’t feel well," he answered, his tone dejected with a hint of misery. You lowered yourself into the seat at his side, sliding your hand up and down his back in a comforting way.

"Is Wayne on his way to take you home?"

"No, ma’am."

You internally flinched. Wayne had brought him up to be respectful to his elders and especially to women, and he was, despite his metalheaded persona. But when he called you ma'am you always felt like a frumpy old woman.

"He’s working a double today. He won’t be able to pick me up until after one."

You checked your wristwatch for the time. It was hardly nine in the morning. Eddie would be waiting here for hours, feeling sick, miserable, and uncomfortable. You patted his knee and gave him a soft smile.

"I’ll be right back." You stood and moved back to the counter, smiling as Lotti looked up at your approach.

"Lotti, can you call Wayne for me?"

The beauty of small towns meant that she already knew what thoughts were going through your mind. She dialled the number for the auto shop Wayne worked at and handed you the phone. You listened to the dial tone ring and ring before the line finally picked up.

"Hi Wayne, it’s me."

You worried for a minute that he wouldn’t recognise your voice. You and Wayne went to school together a literal lifetime ago. For a while, you’d been sweet on him, but nothing had come from that schoolyard crush.

"Hey, love, what do you need?"

"Well, I’m at the school. Corey forgot his lunch again, and Eddie’s here in the waiting room. He’s not well, and I was thinking that since you're not able to pick him up, would it be alright if I brought him home? Just for a few hours until he feels better. He can rest in the spare room."

You didn’t know why you felt the need to explain everything in such detail. It wasn’t like you were about to kidnap his eighteen-year-old nephew and drive to Mexico. And given how small Hawkins was, it wasn’t like you could make it that far. You muffle your amused laughter at the thought when you notice Lotti giving you a strange look.

"You can drop him off at the trailer, love. He’ll be alright alone for a few hours."

You looked over at Eddie, hunched over again, hiding his face in his hands, and you knew that that option wasn’t on the table. You’re shook your head a few times before you remembered that Wayne couldn’t see you. "No, no, it’s okay. I wouldn’t feel right leaving him alone when he’s like this. It'll only be a few hours, and then I’ll drop him home when you finish work, okay?"

"Alright, thanks for this."

"It’s what friends are for, Wayne."

Handing Lotti back the phone, you bid her goodbye a second time before going back to Eddie. You place a hand on his shoulder again. He's prepared this time and isn't surprised to find you staring down at him with kind eyes. "Come on, Eddie. I’m going to take you home with me. We’ll get you some water and medicine, and you can rest until your uncle finishes work."

For a minute, it seemed like he's going to protest before he gives in, likely too tired to refuse your kindness. He follows you to the car in silence and doesn't speak for the entire fifteen-minute drive. You glanced at him now and then to make sure he's okay, only to find him asleep with his cheek smushed against the glass.

He's not happy when you gently shake him awake, but he mumbles a thank-you despite himself. Eddie lets you help him inside the house and into the bed in the spare room, which he could have found himself.

Once he was settled beneath the blankets, his dark curls contrasting with the plush white pillows, you went ahead and got him a glass of water and medicine to help him feel better. He was already asleep when you got back, so you left them on the nightstand before going about the rest of your day.

You'd decided that the weekly shopping could wait until tomorrow, which prompted a silly laugh from you while you washed the dishes from breakfast. It was so scandalous that your Monday weekly shop would be done on a Tuesday. That was about the most exciting thing that had happened since the birth of the twins.

The day became a blur as you moved about the house on autopilot. You picked up toys from the floor and put them into the matching trunks at the end of the twins beds, no doubt mixing up which ones belonged to Alice and which ones belonged to Anna. Then you cleaned Corey's room. You groaned when you opened the door only to find a mountain of spoons, bowls, and cups scattered around his computer desk.

You swore if there was an apocalypse and spoons became the world's currency, he’d never go hungry. You washed them next, then put on a load of laundry to wash while you hung out the load you'd put on earlier in the morning.

By the time midday rolled around, you felt like you were actually accomplishing something, which was a strange feeling. Normally, by this time, you'd feel overwhelmed, underappreciated, and drained all at the same time.

Maybe you felt that way because Eddie was still asleep in the guest room. You'd be mortified if he woke up to find your house in such a sorry state. But you didn't need to worry about that now.

You made yourself something to eat—a simple bologna sandwich—and made one for Eddie as well. He'd been in the room for a few hours now, and you imagined he would wake hungry, especially if he hadn't eaten breakfast again. The few times he’d spent the night here during the school week, he’d woof down the pancakes you made as though he were starving.

Wayne worked hard to provide for him, but you could see it was a struggle. You didn’t mind having Eddie over, feeding him, or even donating clothes when his own were beyond repair. Wayne always promised to pay you back, but you both knew that wouldn’t happen. You’d maybe let him work on your car as a favour, but you could never accept money from him.

With a plate in hand, you knocked on the door. Hearing Eddie's soft groans from the other side, you pushed it open, assuming he was awake. The sight that greeted you was not what you were expecting. He was lying on top of the sheets with his dark denim jeans and boxers shoved down his thighs, cock in his hand as he fisted it.

The sight of his heels digging into the mattress and his hips rising to thrust the length of him into his hand made your brain short-circuit, leaving you wide-eyed and open-mouthed. It was only the sound of the plate clattering against the tiles that drew his attention.

"Oh shit, shit!" Eddie shouted as he yanked a pillow to cover himself. You had already turned away, the door slamming shut behind you as you quickly left the room. You pressed your back against the door and covered your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound of your heavy breathing.

You weren't meant to see that.

You definitely weren't meant to see that.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to calm your racing heart, but it didn't help. Images of him flashed through your mind: the bulge of the veins in his forearm as he tugged relentlessly on his cock, how his lips were parted in breathless gasps, and how your name had sounded like Molton Lava falling from his tongue, hot and heavy.

There had been a bead of pre-cum that you'd seen before his thumb moved over it, spreading it along his shaft like lubricant. His chest had risen and fallen with quick breaths as he worked himself into a frenzy, hurtling towards orgasm like a train with its brakes cut.

Had he been thinking about you? Was that why he'd been moaning your name?

Your face felt like it was burning when he knocked on the door, making you almost jump out of your skin. You held the handle tightly to stop him from opening it; you weren't sure you could look him in the eye right now, but he didn't try.

"I’m sorry," he said softly. He sounded sheepish and sincere. "I didn’t mean for you to see that. It’s just... that you're so fucking hot."

You heard him pause and could swear you heard the gears in his mind turning as he tried to articulate his thoughts. It made you feel better to imagine that he was red in the face, blushing with embarrassment more than the impending orgasm he'd been working himself towards.

"Eddie," your own voice was soft and shaking, as were your hands. It wasn't that Eddie wasn't attractive—hell, if you'd been about ten years younger, you'd be riding him just like you'd ridden his uncle in high school. But you were old enough to be his mother, for crying out loud!

"I can leave if you want."

"No! It's not that." You answered quickly—too quickly—with your thoughts moving too fast for you to make sense of them. It had been years since you'd been this flustered. Peter hadn't made you blush in a long, long time. He didn't touch himself while thinking about you.

He didn't love you anymore; your mind graciously and ruthlessly provided.

"What do you want?" Eddie asked in an impossibly soft voice.

"Jesus, Eddie, I don't know!" You shouted through the door. You felt exasperated, confused, and aroused. "I'm old enough to be your mother. And I'm married!"

He had the good grace to be silent, and while you appreciated the moment with your own thoughts, you found them betraying you. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining Eddie, not your husband. His hands on your body, his lips smashed against yours, his breath on your neck, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips so tight while his cock split you open.

You mentally admonished yourself.

We're horny teenagers with mummy issues your type now?

No, it wasn't that.

It was Eddie; he was your type.

Brooding, filled with emotional rage, the personification of a rebel yell. With his dimpled smile, wild curls, studded belts, and rings for days, he was every high school girl's wet dream.

"I'll be your dirty little secret if that's what you're into."

You shouldn't want to open the door. You shouldn’t be excited and dripping wet from having caught him masturbating. You shouldn't want him.

But when Eddie said that, it's the nail in the coffin that sealed your fate.

You stared at him after opening the door. A part of you was expecting to see him wearing a malicious smirk or his typical joking smile, the one that's lopsided and goofy. But that same part of you is ecstatic that he was entirely serious and that he's still hard.

The outline of his cock was prominent against his jeans, straining against the zipper as your eyes roved down his body and up, taking in every inch of him. It must have been the look in your eyes that encouraged him because the next second Eddie kissed you, all teeth, tongue, and male arousal.

He was rough as he grabbed your upper arms, pulling you against his chest and into the room. The bedroom door slammed shut with an awful bang seconds before he’d all but thrown you onto the bed.

You shouldn't have enjoyed being manhandled. You shouldn't want him, but you do.

His kisses were hot. It was like lava pouring into your mouth and free-flowing through your veins until it felt like you were burning alive, your skin aflame wherever he touched. His hands were rough but gentle at the same time, leaving you with emotional whiplash. Eddie grabbed you with urgency, as though you were all that kept him from being engulfed in this wild fantasy.

And as he stripped you, methodically removing each article of clothing until you were naked beneath him, he took the time to appreciate every inch of your body. He didn't seem to notice the way you tried to hide yourself—hands covering the stretch marks and skin left behind after pregnancy, your thighs rubbing together to hide the obvious sheen of arousal. You grab his face between your hands and pull him in for another fiery kiss to stop his eyes from wandering.

The pads of his fingers were calloused from summers of hard work with his uncle in the shop and hours of guitar playing, creating a rough drag against your skin. He fondles your tits, palming them, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb until they pebble, until you whine against his lips; the sound he pulls from your throat is positively whoreish.

By the time he dragged his hands down your stomach, you were soaked, the slick of your arousal dripping down your backside to dampen the mattress. Eddie mouthed your neck, leaving broad, wet stripes over your racing pulse with his tongue. "You're so fucking hot," he groaned while pulling your thighs apart. You want to be embarrassed, but when his lips close around one of your nipples, embarrassment flies out the window.

You should have felt guilty. Your chest should have been tight and your heart heavy. Instead, all you could feel was the delicious slide of his tongue over and around your nipple and the way his teeth burrowed so faintly into your sensitive flesh.

He paid the same attention to the opposite one, sucking, swirling, and biting until both were hardened peaks that crowned your breasts. When he lifted his mouth, your skin glistened with his saliva, a line of it connecting his lips to your nipple before it settled into place on your stomach. And then he was everywhere—his mouth trailing down your stomach, his lips, his tongue, his palmy breath, even all the places that you hated.

He took his time, each caress of his lips and swipe of his tongue unhurried as he worshipped your body in ways you hadn't realised you’d been craving. He pressed his palms against the inside of your knees, forcing your legs apart as he slotted himself between them. His breath was hot against your bare cunt, which glistened with obvious arousal.

Eddie gave a low whistle that made you blush.

"Stop," you whispered when your eyes met his lust-blown orbs. You tried to bring your thighs together to stifle the growing ache at your core, but he forced your knees apart.

The gasp he tore from your throat with the first touch of his tongue was loud and strangled. Eddie used the tip to lick from your clenching hole to your clit, gathering your arousal and swallowing it down with a lustful moan that vibrated through your cunt. His fingers tightened at your knees, leaving prints behind when he licked you again, making your hips buck hard enough to almost dislodge him.

"Jesus Christ, baby," he breathed out. "Your pussy's so fucking juicy."

It was all he said before his mouth was on you, his tongue pushing through your slick folds and into your clenching hole to drag the arousal from you. He was methodical, making your hips jerk and twitch. It was like electricity had replaced your blood, turning your body into live wires and leaving you a twitching, writing mess as Eddie lapped at your cunt relentlessly.

Maybe it was it’s months and weeks of bottled-up frustrations; maybe it’s was your feelings of inadequacy and insecurities melting away; maybe it’s was the sheer ridiculousness of sleeping with someone other than your husband; whatever the reason, Eddie and his wicked tongue have you hurtling towards climaxing faster than you thought possible.

Eddie grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed when you pulled on his hair; his mouth was now the only thing that kept your hips pinned. It was the stab of his tongue into your quivering hole and his nose bumping into your throbbing clit that threw you over the edge.

Not once did he stop, even as heaven and hell clashed violently around you, leaving you crying beneath the assault of his tongue. It started with white-hot lightening sparking to life in your heart and then settled into a static hum behind your ears when you sagged back to the bed. Your bones felt like jelly, and your limbs trembled with each aftershock.

His tongue pushed through your folds again and again, leaving you a whimpering mess, which was music to his ears. He left broad, wet stripes along your lips, your clit, and your hole, drawing your orgasm out much longer than you thought possible.

Eddie kissed you hard while you regained your senses and came back to earth, his lips working over yours while he ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips tightly. "Felt good, baby?" he cooed. His voice sounded almost mocking as he pushed a hand between your thighs, the calloused tips of his fingers a rough drag against your clit as he gathered your spend to lubricate them.

The noise he drew from you was whoreish. Your eyes snapped shut while your back arched involuntarily. You twisted your fingers around the sheets when the pleasure began to race too close behind your first orgasm, bordering on too much, too quickly.

"Eddie, Eddie, please, I'll die," you managed to gasp out, your voice straining when he pushed two fingers into your clenching hole, making the arch in your back deepen. He kissed your neck, his teeth leaving faint marks behind on your skin. You grab at his hair again and pull it hard to make him stop before he can leave bruises for your husband to see.

"Not yet, sweet girl; you can give me another one."

He made it sound like a question, but he wasn’t asking one.

The drag of his fingers through your slick walls had your mind going blank as he doubled down on you. Your head is thrown back as nothing comes out of your parted lips. Your thighs trembled to the point of cramps as your walls spasmed suddenly around his fingers. You'd never known that your orgasms could crash so close together; it's like ocean waves crashing over sand—it happens once, and then again, and again.

It was like there was a string that ran the length of your body, and it was being pulled tighter and tighter by the prod of his fingers as he curled them and changed the angle until he finally found that spongy sweet spot that had galaxies and stars bursting to life behind your eyes. You back arched until it hurt, then snapped straight as he fingered you through your orgasm.

Only when your body went limp did he pull his fingers from you. The sound of them moving through your soaked folds was obscene, but not as much as the sight of him licking them clean. Eddie brought them to his lips, his devil’s tongue snaking free to greedily lap up your spend with a throaty moan.

You blink at him slowly to clear the blur of tears from your eyes, but more fell each time your lashes swept atop the apples of your cheeks. Eddie smiled smugly before moving to stand at the side of the bed so he could strip himself in a hurry. He threw his jacket and shirt across the room haphazardly and left his jeans and boxers pooled together on the floor. You watched with half-lidded doe eyes as he stroked himself.

He was far bigger than you'd realised before. When you'd walked in on him, it had all happened so fast—you'd seen him but hadn't seen him.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth and chewed on it while he crawled up the bed to hover over you, his cock bobbing proudly against his stomach with each movement. "Ready, pretty girl?" He asked as he mouthed up the hollow of your throat before capturing your lips before you could answer.

It wouldn't take a genius to understand why he's asking. He was giving you a chance to change your mind, to tell him to stop and preserve whatever modesty and dignity you have left. He was giving you an out, but you were already lost in him. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and dug your heels into the backs of his thighs to bring him closer. The glide of his cock between your slick folds and the way his mushroom head nudged your overstimulated clit, were delicious. You moaned against his lips. Eddie took this as permission and sank into the warm, wet tightness of your cunt with a single thrust, hissing with pleasure as he seated himself fully within your walls.

"So fucking tight for me," he grunted against your lips. His teeth were clenched, and his eyes were screwed shut as he stilled and gave you a moment to adjust to his invasion. Eddie was bigger than Peter, both in length and girth, leaving your brain short-circuiting and sparking. He was pressed against every delicious spot inside your gummy walls, so that it felt like he was pressed against your cervix, and deeper still.

Your lips opened and closed and opened again in silent, breathless moans when he began to move, setting a gruelling pace right from the start. You weren't a virgin; he knew that. He knew he didn't need to go slow or be gentle. He could throw you over the edge and into oblivion and make you scream his name without any preamble.

He took over your world as he fucked you.

The scent of his cologne was deep in your lungs from where your face was buried against the side of his neck, just so you could attack his skin with sweet kisses and blistering bites. Your hands mapped every inch of his skin that you could reach, committing each detail to memory: the faint dusting of freckles over his nose, the slope of his neck, the way the muscles down his back would shift and tense each time he moved, drawing out and thrusting back in with wild intent.

You could feel yourself oozing—a warm trickle of liquid that rolled down your backside only to be lost in the sheets as he fucked you hard enough to make your tits and tummy jiggle. And as he frantically kissed you, desperately trying to keep you from being too loud, you saw the way his jaw tensed and the flush of colour that crept up his throat and into his face. He was steamrolling towards orgasm like a skydiver caught in a free fall, no wind in his sails, no way to stop.

"Eddie, Eddie." It was a whine, a desperate plea, but for what? You couldn't say.

You canted your hips, raising them to meet the piston of his, so that he could drive himself as deep as possible and crash into the spongy sweet spot he'd found earlier. And when he found it, he didn't stop.

Eddie grabbed one of your hips hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingers and pinned you hard against the mattress. His other hand snaked between your bodies to find your clit, which was still sensitive and throbbing. Eddie drew tight, quick circles around your nub, punching more and more air from your lungs with each rotation when, out of nowhere, the pressure suddenly becomes too much.

The way all your muscles seize had you suddenly panicked, your walls tightening around him like a vice, earning a hiss of pleasure from his tight-lipped expression. He still didn’t stop. You stare at him wide-eyed, your voice strangled, as you try to articulate the way the pressure is building too fast and moving too far beyond what you understand is normal.

"Ed-Eddie, fuck, s'too much!" You cried out as you threw your head from side to side. Tears fell from your eyes like waterfalls, sliding down your temples and disappearing into your sweat-damp hair. You felt yourself tightening around him. He managed a deep groan at the first sign of your leaking cunt.

You grabbed his wrist wildly, your nails clawing at his skin. Your body trembled violently, screamed at you to make him stop. Your brain begged for more.

Another perfectly aimed thrust of his hips, his cock sliding through your quivering walls, his thumb on your clit changing directions, finally broke you. You threw your head back; your eyes opened wide, but you saw nothing as you screamed. It was like white-hot lightning engulfed your body, setting your world on fire. Lights of red and yellow flashed behind your eyes like a disco dance from hell.

Eddie didn't try to keep you quiet this time. Each drawback and push forwards deluged his cock with liquid. He still didn't stop. His mouth was affixed with awe, permanently hanging open as you drenched him, yourself, and the sheets. "Holy fucking hell, baby, just like that, Jesus... fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He couldn't hold back, even if he'd wanted to. He grabbed you roughly by the hips, keeping you pinned to the mattress as he buried himself. Eddie came hard—harder than he'd ever come before. He felt each rope shoot from himself despite the tremors in his body, and he knew that you felt it too. Your walls were on repeat, gripping him, releasing him, and gripping him again, like a record stuck on repeat.

There was relief in his eyes when he slumped forwards, his chest pressing tight against yours. He brushed his face into the crook of your shoulder, curls tickling at your skin as he laughed breathlessly. "I didn't know you could do that," he muttered against your dewy skin, tasting your sex-sweet sweat.

"I didn't know I could do that."

#haunted hoedown #hauntedhoedown #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader

[mystic-writings]

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve been | dean winchester

PAIRING — dean winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY — you seem to have the perfect life with dean, but nothing good ever happens to you, so why should this?

WARNINGS — fluff, angst, anxiety, derealization, pregnancy, miscarriage mentions, blood & self-harm/suicide depictions, injury

WORD COUNT — 3,764

NOTES — this is all i’ve been thinking about for like a week. also TAKE THE WARNINGS SERIOUSLY THIS IS AN EMOTIONALLY HEAVY FIC | btw most of this takes place in season 2 or 3, and season 6 or so at the end

masterlist | navigation

This bed is too comfortable. Too warm. But you didn’t care, because it was the best sleep you’d gotten in years. You forced yourself to keep your eyes closed, to soak in the comfort that hardly ever came with your lifestyle. 

Warm lips pressed against your temple, the pressure of someone else in the bed shifting your body ever-so-slightly. That was what forced you to peel your eyes open. 

You stretched your arms, taking a deep breath in and locking eyes with… Dean. Your comfort quickly turned to shock and confusion, and judging by the look that formed on his features, your face showed how you felt. 

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” He said, and the smile you fell in love with melted onto his lips. 

“Morning,” you sighed. Something about all of this felt off, but you couldn’t place it. Everything else about your reality felt entirely normal, so you felt the only thing to do was brush it off entirely. “What time is it?”

Dean, who was leaning over you with one arm on either side of your head, craned his neck to the side. “Almost 9. I’ve got some grub ready for you downstairs, if you can handle it this morning.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Let me guess, is it a pile of bacon and some eggs?”

“With toast,” Dean defended, and moved back as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

As your feet touched the floor, Dean headed toward the bedroom door. “I’ll be down in a few, okay?”

Once Dean was out of sight, things began to feel odd again. You still couldn’t place the feeling, but it churned your stomach. Still, you did your best to push the feeling aside and headed to the bathroom. It was in there, as you brushed your teeth, that you saw the glint in the mirror — a ring, placed delicately on your left ring finger. The band was thin, the jewels were small, but it looked absolutely stunning. 

Were you and Dean engaged?

The second the thought came to mind, you nearly laughed. Of course, you were engaged, why else would you be wearing a ring? And besides, it’s not as though it should be a surprise, you’d been engaged for almost two years now, and together for much longer. 

After you were done in the bathroom, you browsed both the closet and dresser for something to wear, but none of your clothes felt right. There was little flannel — or jeans for that matter — and all the comfortable t-shirts belonged to Dean. You ended up choosing one of his old, plain shirts and a pair of jeans that felt a little too tight around the waist.

You followed the nearly-overwhelming scent of bacon downstairs and into the kitchen, where you found Dean plating everything up for the both of you at the table. 

“Come get it while it’s hot, babe,” he smirked, setting the plates in their spots across from one another. 

Breakfast was pretty silent, but you were starving. Pretty much the only thing you could think about was eating what was in front of you — including the bowl of poorly cut up fruit next to your plate. Just as you were finishing up whatever bacon you had, Dean let out a low whistle. You paused, mid-chew, and looked up at him. “What?”

“Well, I’ve just never seen you eat like that before,” Dean commented. “Guess I should expect things to start changing or whatever, but yesterday you damn near threw up at the smell of bacon, sweetheart.”

Why would that have made you nauseous in the first place? “What can I say, I’m a hungry woman,” you shrugged, and a thought came to mind. “Where’s Sam?”

Dean seemed caught off guard by your question. “Sam? He’s… in California, Y/n. He won’t be here until later tonight. Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You took a sip from the cup of orange juice in front of you. God, you could use a coffee. 

“Nothing, I just- I know the doctor said brain fog would be normal, but I didn’t expect it to be this early.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stood, heading to the coffee pot to pour yourself some. You don’t know why Dean didn’t, especially considering he knew how much you loved it. “I’m fine, Dean, don’t worry. Just a little tired, is all.” 

By the time you poured yourself a cup and it was halfway to your lips, Dean was at your side, pulling it from your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Dean, seriously, what the hell are you up to? I’m just having a cup of coffee, jesus.”

“Were we not at the same doctor’s appointment last week?” Dean asked, dumping the cup down the sink. “She said no caffeine, period. Better to not take risks with the baby, all things considered.” 

Baby? What baby? 

Your mind reeled at Dean’s words for a few moments, confusion filling you to the brim. You weren’t pregnant. Right? You didn’t look or feel pregnant. Did you? Then, in an instant, your mind felt crammed with memories. Taking the test, sharing it with Dean, the doctor’s appointment. It rushed you all at once, but it felt… fake. 

Sharp pain shot through your temples, and you pressed the heel of your palm to your forehead, catching your fiance’s attention. “Are you feeling okay, babe?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just a headache. I’ll be okay.” You assured him, removing your hand from your head and placing it on his shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some rest, okay?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll call mom, let her know tonight’s off.” 

“No, no. I should be fine for tonight, don’t worry about it. I think I just need to rest.” After you got Dean to agree, you wracked your brain for what possibly could be going on tonight. Then, suddenly, you remembered. Dean’s birthday dinner. Of course. You and Mary had been planning it for weeks now. It was less fancy than the birthdays you recalled Mary having, with just a nice, home cooked meal and a cake and pie from Dean’s favourite place in town. 

In fact, you were supposed to go help her with that today. However, you decided that maybe a small nap would be fine, since you didn’t need to go anywhere until after 12 o’clock. 

If it weren’t for Dean waking you up again, there was a high chance you would’ve slept through the whole day. Both of you had things to do outside the house, so you got ready and left in tandem, a blissful, domestic peace settling over your house. 

That is, until you saw the vehicles in the driveway. The old, black, Toyota Tacoma made sense, since it was yours, but the sedan — Dean’s sedan — didn’t. 

“Where’s the Impala?” You asked, heading down the porch steps. 

Dean glanced back at you, that all-too familiar face of confusion looking at you. “I got rid of it when we got the house, remember? You and mom said it was too loud to be in a quiet neighbourhood, so I traded it in.”

You hummed with a nod, your chest feeling a little heavy. You loved that car; Dean loved that car. The sedan was nice, but the Impala, she was a beauty. Dismissing it, you hopped into your truck and backed out of the driveway, the route to the bakery coming to you like riding a bike as you sang along to the cd mix you left in the console last week. 

Once both the cake and pie were paid for and secured in the passenger seat, you headed back to the house to get ready for the dinner. Dean was still out, grocery shopping you presumed, due to the lack of ingredients in the fridge. 

It took you nearly an hour, between your makeup and trying to find a dress that looked good on you and still fit. It still felt weird to you; the fact that you were pregnant. It’s not something you ever recalled truly wanting, not to mention something you ever really discussed with Dean. You still felt like your normal self. No nausea or mood swings, and definitely no cravings or aversions. You didn’t even feel bloated, even if your clothes said otherwise. It was like there was no pregnancy to begin with. 

Still, you found a suitable outfit and made your way over to Mary’s, where she was already starting on the dinner you were helping her cook. Aside from her oddly watchful eye, you were grateful for the time you got to spend with just her. Time with Mary passed like nothing, and before you knew it, Dean was bringing Sam and Jess into the house, and dinner was practically done. 

You greeted everyone happily, still wearing the apron Mary wrapped you in to keep your clothes protected. Sam and Jess looked happy, and for a moment, as you took Jess’ hand, you were flashed with images of Sam, sobbing at her grave. It overtook you, overwhelmed you, and shook you to your core. So much so that when you came back to the present, everyone was looking at you. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to put a smile on and untying your apron. “I’m just not feeling too well, I’ll be back in a second,” 

You barely managed to toss the apron over the bannister as you headed for the upstairs bathroom. The door flung open and shut, and your back was pressed against it, the lock clicking, sealing you in to calm down. You tried to keep your eyes closed, but they kept flashing with those images. Jess’ grave, Sam’s tears. Jess, poor, lovely Jess, pinned to the ceiling with blood soaking her nightdress. Sam’s fear, the flames, you and Dean pulling him away. 

What’s gotten into you? 

After taking a few deep breaths, you finally got rid of those haunting images, and joined everyone in the dining room. Dean was sitting at the head of the table, with Sam and Jess on one side, and an empty seat on the other. You took that one, which was next to Mary.

“Are you okay, honey?” She asked, plating up mashed potatoes for everyone. “You were up there a while,”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded, taking Dean’s hand. “I just… I think I’m coming down with something. Just needed a second, is all.” 

Dinner passed smoothly, with comfortable chatter and laughter, reminiscing and recalling memories. You were bringing up things you didn’t even remember, but everything felt so natural and peaceful that you barely thought twice about it. 

Just before cake and pie, the conversation quieted down, and Dean cleared his throat. He gave you a look, and you knew what he was going to do. 

“I know it’s my birthday, but while we’re all here, Y/n and I have something we want to tell you,” Dean started, an uncontrollable smile on his face. It made you fall in love with him all over again. 

Sam, Jess, and Mary’s voices overlapped as they berated you all with questions, their enthusiasm making you giggle. 

“Okay, okay, we might as well just say it, right?” You asked your fiance, and he nodded. “We’re pregnant!”

The table erupted with cheers. Everyone stood up, and the next few minutes were a flurry of hugs and congratulations. Questions were asked and answered, and the joy was overwhelmingly felt. 

When everything calmed, Dean mentioned, “I’m honestly surprised we got through dinner before announcing it. Between our excitement and Y/n’s nausea, I figured it would’ve slipped before we were halfway done.”

Your stomach churned at his comment, and you realised that he was right. You’d prepared and eaten all this food, and not once did you have any aversions or nausea, despite recalling the fact that you threw up at the smell of steak only a few days ago. 

“Yeah, well, I guess I developed an iron stomach just for you, babe.” You smiled, just as Mary brought out the desserts. 

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. After desserts, you found yourself sitting with everyone in the living room, talking endlessly about how exciting everything was. Jess and Sam’s wedding, the baby, all of it. Mary even shared some of the stories she recalled from when the boys were little. 

Dean stuck to your side the whole night, an arm around your shoulders. The whole scene, every moment, brought you comfort and peace, one you feel like you haven’t had in years, even if this was just what your life was like. 

You drove home after Sam and Jess turned in, and it didn’t take long after you got home for the two of you to fall into bed, into a warm and safe cocoon made up of Dean and the duvet. You were utterly at peace. 

But the peace didn’t follow you into your dreams. 

Your subconscious became filled with the most sickening sights. Weapons, fights, death and destruction. And blood. Covering every inch of your skin, splattering and dripping and staining. And none of it was yours. The image of Jess returned, and so did Dean. More gruff, hardened, and scarier than you’ve ever seen him. Sam, tortured and fighting himself. Motels and bars and Baby, and then nothing. Emptiness, loneliness, hunt after hunt by yourself. No Dean, no Sam, no family. Then the warehouse. People strung up to die. The glow of blue magic, then nothing. 

Waking up felt like being pulled out from underwater. Dean was nowhere to be found, but you were met with the sun-filled room you fell asleep in. An unsettling feeling settled in your chest, like something was wrong. This time, you couldn’t shake it. 

You assumed, after getting ready and pacing around the house so much that you burned off your breakfast and made a second one, that the feeling must be from being alone. After all, you only felt this way yesterday when no one else was in your presence.

Since Dean had taken Sam and Jess house hunting for the day, something they planned weeks ago, you figured going to Mary would be best. After all, you didn’t know a thing about pregnancy, and she’d been through two. Maybe she could help. Maybe what you were feeling was just sudden anxiety about the baby now that people knew (even if you feel like you didn’t know until yesterday, even if you feel like you’re not even pregnant). 

When you arrived, she was making herself some lunch, which she graciously offered to you and you accepted. The house was quiet now, and you wondered how she dealt with the silence all the time. 

As you were finishing your sandwiches, Mary cleared her throat. 

“Not that I don’t love your company, darling, but is there a reason you stopped by?”

You stopped chewing for a moment. Placing the remnants of your sandwich back on the plate, you swiped your hands on your jeans and took a swig of water. “Yes, actually, there is.” You took a breath, and forced the words. “I feel… off. I don’t know what it is, if it’s because of the baby, or,” you almost couldn’t say the word. It was like you were in a permanent state of denial. “I just… don’t feel okay. It’s like something’s wrong, but I can’t place it. But I only feel it when I’m alone.” 

Mary seemed to think on her words for a while, before reaching over and placing a hand over yours. “Considering what you’ve been through, it’s totally normal to feel how you do. I mean, you and Dean went through a lot. Between the miscarriage and the break up, feeling like something’s wrong is probably just anxiety from last time. I’m sure if you talk to Dean about it he can help. He was such a wreck for so long.” 

You pulled your hand away from Mary’s, as though her touch burned. You had no idea what she was talking about. Miscarriage? Breakup? You’d never been pregnant before. You didn’t even feel pregnant now. 

You tried to think back, to reach into the back of your mind to try and pull forward these supposed memories, but all it did was give you a headache. Your temples throbbed as you pushed yourself. Then, like the breaking of a dam, everything flooded into your head. 

The hunts, the lifestyle, the memories. You were right, you’d never been pregnant. This was not your life. This was a mockery of what was, a possibility of what could’ve been if the world hadn’t been so cruel, if fate and stubbornness hadn’t driven you to be alone. 

The djinn was smart. It was skilled, its magic refined. You knew going after it alone was a mistake, but there was no one else you could go to. All your hunting friends were busy, and the Winchesters had become nothing but a painful mark on your soul; a memory too painful to relive, and too fond to forget. It took over you, subdued you, strung you up to die. 

You knew the way out. Die here, and live there, or live here and die there. It was a no-brainer. If it weren’t for the fact that you had Dean. If it weren’t for the fact that Jess was alive, that Sam was happy. That Mary got to see her sons grow up. If it weren’t for the fact that things are normal.

Somehow, you managed to excuse yourself from Mary, thank her for the food and advice, and drive yourself home. You spent what felt like hours staring at yourself in the mirror that hung above the sink, splashing water in your face and thinking. If you didn’t do something, you’d die out there, in the real world. But the real world sucked. You were alone. Every day was a struggle, especially with the things you’ve seen, the things you’ve done. The real you had regrets, big ones. The real you didn’t know how she kept getting out of those cheap motel beds every day. 

This version of you is happy. This you had regrets, but none as big, as ugly, as the real you. This you had a job, a house, a life, and a family. This you had Dean, and he alone almost made it worth it. 

But it wasn’t enough. You knew it wasn’t enough. 

So, you walked through the bedroom, down the stairs, and through your house, soaked in the setting sunlight. It felt like a death march. It was a death march; and its destination was the kitchen. 

You stood at the counter with limbs filled with lead, with a looming fear. There was nothing to be scared of, really. It would just be the pain, and then you’d wake up. Everything would be fine. 

But your hand still shook as you reached for the biggest knife in the block. 

And it shook as the tip pressed into your stomach. 

And then the door opened, and Dean called out to you, lovingly. He rambled on as he approached, talking about how he thought Sam and Jess found the perfect house - just a few streets away, he claimed, so close to you both, where you could build lives together. 

You turned, knife still touching your skin, shaking and at the brink of tears, when he walked into the kitchen. You watched the joy within him turn to fear, and your heart broke. 

“Y/n what are you doing-” he said, stepping closer. 

“Don’t!” You shouted. He froze in place. Your shaking became uncontrollable. “Don’t come any closer.”

“What’s going on, Y/n?” He asked, and all you could hear was fear in his voice. “Just- just put the knife down, we can talk about this.”

You shook your head, and tears filled your vision. “No, we can’t. This isn’t real. None of it’s real, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes, it is. This is real, I’m real, okay?”

“No, you aren’t!” You screamed. “You’re Dean, I know that, but you’re not the Dean I love. You’re the Dean I wish I could’ve been with. This life, it’s perfect, and I wish it was mine, but it’s not. It’s just a stupid dream, and if I stay here I’ll die.”

“You’re not making any sense, babe. Just put down the knife, and I swear, I can help you.” 

You sniffed, letting the tears fall. “God, I wish you could. I wish I could stay with you, Dean. You’re perfect, and I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

And within seconds, hot pain flooded your stomach as you buried the knife in your abdomen. Dean rushed to you as you pulled it back out, tears flowing down both your cheeks. He caught you as you stumbled, and guided you to the ground, into his lap. 

The only thing you could retain was his hand on your wound, his cries for help, and grabbing his hand one last time, comforted by his skin touching yours as everything slipped away. 

This position was far too uncomfortable. You tried to move, to stretch out, but something was stopping you. The air was cold around you, and your muscles were aching and tired. Something reached up to you, brushed the hair from your face. 

You groaned as your arms dropped and something — someone — caught you. Through the muck you felt like your mind was swimming in, you remembered what happened. The djinn strung you up. But who was cutting you down?

Again, your hair was gently brushed from your face, and suddenly at the back of your neck and knees there was a pressure. You could hear voices around you, low and rumbling. They sounded panicked. Familiar. Safe. 

A million thoughts ran through your head all at once, all of them rushing to the same conclusion. Open your eyes. 

Emerald green, pale and comforting and worried, stared back at you, flooded with relief that you were alive. They were a stark contrast to what you had seen moments ago; the same eyes, though a little younger, filled with grief and pain and tears.

“Dean,” you rasped, and you could’ve sworn he smiled at you. 

“Hey, princess,” you haven’t heard him call you that in years, “we’ve got you. Don’t worry. Me and Sammy, we- we killed the djinn. You’ll be okay.”

And, somehow, you believed him. You didn’t know how, or when, but you’d be okay.

permanent taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

dean winchester taglist: @johnmurphyisqueer @thanossexual @dryyoursaltyoceantears @whitemanshoe19 @allinfangirl @sunsetcurvej @killerqueenfan @justthatfangirloverthere @cadencebeat2662 @jamespotterslover @yagorlemmalyn @mariecoded @aunicornmademedoit @bloodyxheaven @weasleystwinswife @mrspeacem1nusone @jessimay89 @supernaturallydc @navs-bhat @xoxabs88xox @unic0rntaking0ver17645 @adhdhufflepuff @erospecies @alexxavicry @imabee-oralizard @ajordan2020 @lunepoesie

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #major character death #suicide tw #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader

[csuitebitches]

The Best Workout that Changed My Body (Model Workout)

Growing up, I was a chubby kid. As a teenager, I was “skinny-fat” - I had a tummy but lean arms and legs. I have tried everything to burn that belly fat off; right from detox teas, waist clinchers, sports, Pilates, limiting my calorie intake, weight lifting, strength training, eating only health food for months, lemon water, even K-Pop stars’ diets… you name it and I’ve probably done it.

Then I finally found something that worked out for me. I stumbled across it on Reddit, and I shared it with my friends, not thinking that it would actually work.

Except that it did.

A friend who had gained 10 kgs because of her thyroid lost nearly 8 kgs in a matter of a couple of months. Another friend - who’s quite skinny and petite and struggled with weight gain - saw her body get more toned in just a couple of weeks.

So I decided to try it out as well - and I could actually see a difference in just a week’s time (as crazy as this sounds). A few pants I had that I always felt a little insecure about wearing actually felt LOOSE at the waist! I couldn’t believe it!

Now, for a little disclaimer. The person who created these workouts happens to train models. They are specialised in model training- reducing waist cm, hips is their specialty. HOWEVER. They were accused of filming their clients in their gym bathroom. Their spouse eventually took over the company. But that still doesn’t sit right with me. So that means that I will not be buying any of the company’s products, even though the work outs are really effective and require minimum equipment.

So I did a little bit of sleuthing - and found 5 out of 6 of their workouts for free on Reddit.

I’m going to share the link that I found on Reddit. I am NOT responsible for uploading the files. I have no role to play in it. These have been available on Reddit for literally years. I have no idea who the original distributor is, either. Also, these videos are quite old. I’m sure that the new ones are different from these.

The workouts range from 20-60 minutes (most of them are at 40 minutes though). The best part is that you can do these anywhere.

The only equipment you really need:

- yoga mat

- Slide discs/ wash cloths

- Ankle weights

- 3 pound dumbbells

Here it is (the link)

The nutrition guide:

(I have not come up with this. Do not hold me responsible if you do not agree with what the trainer says).

1. Calorie intake: 1600 calories

2. No juice, rice, pasta, potatoes, bread 2-3 hours before you workout. If you must eat, it has to be low calorie protein or lean (eggs, protein shake, lean protein, salad, vegetables).

3. No carbs after 3 pm.

4. Dinner should be protein and vegetable based.

5. No protein for 1-2 hours after workout. Fruit juice, fruits, vegetables and starchy carbs are fine.

6. Only treadmill for cardio. Slow jogs. No weights for lower body, outside of the program. No lunges, squats or deadlifts. Yoga and Pilates are fine. I personally do 12-3-30.

How I use this routine:

Monday: workout 1

Tuesday: 12-3-30

Wednesday: workout 2

Thursday: 12-3-30

Friday: workout 3

Saturday: workout 4 +12-3-30

Sunday: 12-3-30 / yoga/ rest day

I take 5 days off in a month during my period. These workouts are also not crazy intense (I’m used to playing sports and being active in general) so I’m fine doing it everyday.

What is 12-3-30?

Treadmill workout where:

12- incline

3 - speed

30 - minutes

#c suite #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #strong women #getting your life together #feminine energy #balance #model workout #workout #model #fitness #weight loss #body transformation #body #diet #work out #body love #body image #model fitness #cardio #hiit #feminine body #model body #Kendall Jenner workout #Victoria’s secret workout #vs Angel

[freya-fallen]

Little Dove 5/?

You're Pro Hero Hawks' little sister. Dabi finds out and everything devolves from there.

HawksxReaderxDabi

TW: none for this chapter, but future parts may include, but are not limited to, noncon, dubcon, drugging, forced incest, yandere hawks, yandere dabi, coercion, lying, manipulation, grooming (of an 18 year old character), obsession, gaslighting...

Part 1 Part 6

Keigo is still home when you wake up, a rare occurrence given his hours. You stare down at your phone to read through a few texts from Dabi and look up when you hear an abrupt sound. Your brother is making scrambled eggs wearing your frilly apron and a pair of boxers. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him whistling a little flourish while he flips the spatula through the air.

“‘Morning, Dove. Sleep well?”

You blush, remembering that you fell asleep while Keigo was preening your wings. You’d woken, tangled in sheets and diagonal across the mattress. “Did I steal the covers last night?”

He grins that heartbreaking grin of his that comes so naturally when he’s around you. “Only a little. I kept plenty warm, considering you were half on top of me.

“I’m sorry.”

He bats away the apology. “If it bothered me, we’d have separate beds. You’ve always been clingy in your sleep.”

To be fair, so is he. It’s a remnant of your childhood, when you were each other’s only real family. You still are, but now you have a stable life to go along with your relationship.

There was a time Keigo left. It was sometime after your father was finally arrested, when your memories become a blur for a while. You know you were hungry and cold and sad. Your mother was annoyed at your complaints, but there was nothing she could do about them. She yelled at Keigo, called him useless, and he took off.

You think you saw him once after that, then nothing. 

For a little while, you stayed alone with your mother. She rarely helped you with clothes or food or anything, really, so you quickly became a mess of a child. By the time the HPSC dropped in to pluck you from Tomie’s grasp, you were in such deplorable state that Keigo became furious when you saw him.

It was in the penthouse, your now-home. He’d fought with the commission to get a place for you, and a separate one for your mother. When you asked why, he always shrugged and muttered something about everyone being happier this way.

Keigo had run across the bare floor and dropped to his knees to look at you. “Did mom hurt you?” His hands were warm on your shoulders, his eyes boring into your own. You shook your head. “Did she feed you?” he asked next, to which you shrugged. Keigo sighed, glanced up at an adult and said, “Go get her something to eat.”

It was the first time you ever heard Keigo give a command. 

Your brother guides you to the table, snapping you from your memories. He has a full plate and orange juice all laid out. 

“Thank you, Keigo.”

 He beams. “You’re welcome.” He has made himself a plate with more food than yours. He spends all day most days out on patrol and apparently flying takes a lot of energy, so he keeps fueled. You’ve always marveled at how much he can scarf down per meal.

Your phone buzzes and he frowns at it. “Just a friend from school,” you explain, though you have the phone upside down, so it’s not like you can see the screen. He hums in response.

“Do you have the day off?” Hope lays thick in your voice. You’d promised to see Dabi later, but he’d understand that Keigo is home.

He shakes his head. “No, I just had a little time this morning. Sorry, Dove. I know I owe you some one-on-one time, but things are hectic at work right now.”

You know what that’s code for. “The commission has you on a special mission, huh?” You hate when this happens. They suck the life out of your brother, promising him the moon for one more little favor. It never ends; you know they’ve sent him to do things he shouldn’t, things he won’t talk about to anyone, but especially you. He could never ruin your image of him; it would break him.

You tell him you’ll love him anyway, but he just shakes his and smiles sadly.

“Yeah. It’s a really important one, though. It might stop a war.”

“Does it have to do with that guy who fought All Might?” you ask. He’s behind bars, but maybe he has some sort of team who can take over his evil plans. 

Keigo bites his lip. “You know I can’t tell you anything about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, secret squirrel stuff.” You raise a hand in defeat. “I know.”

“The secretest.” He puts your plates in the dishwasher after you’ve both cleared them, then pulls you into his arms for a hug. “I told them I’m taking a break after this one. I need it. We’ve all been working our asses off since All Might retired, but the flame man and I most of all.”

His heart is a steady beat against your ear. You wrap your arms around your brother and take in how much stronger he is than you. Even without him feathers, he could throw you over his shoulder. He takes his work seriously, despite his carefree appearance. You squeeze him, aware of how strong some villains are and how small your brother is compared to some. “You promise?”

Keigo rubs your back. “I promise. They won’t get anything outta me for at least a month.”

“A month?” The idea thrills you; you’ve never gotten to spend that much time free with him.

“Yep, just you and me. We can do anything, go anywhere.”

You grin up at him. “I can’t wait.”

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist

@im-just-a-simp-le-whore

@kyiratodoroki

@y0urlittlebaby

@eshayteaparty

@cha0sdumpster

#darkfic #yandere #mha #hawks #my hero academia #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #smut #dark fic #patreon #fanfic #dabi my hero academia #reader fic

[fireheartwraith]

The new eggs' ages (based on vibes) (to me) are

Sunny, 12 years old

Empanada, 7 years old

Pepito, 6 years old

So, in the full egg lineup (minus a1 and hope because i don’t know enough about them to give them an age)

Chayanne, 12 years old

Sunny, 12 years old

Juanaflippa, 11 years old — died at 6

Ramón, 10 years old

Dapper, 10 years old

Leonarda, 10 years old

Bobby, 10 years old — died at 7

Tilín, 10 years old — died at 5

Tallulah, 9 years old

Trump, 9 years old — died at 4

Pomme, 8 years old

Richarlyson, 7 years old

Empanada, 7 years old

Pepito, 6 years old

Things to keep in mind/ what this tells us

The egg island babies don’t view each other as siblings! Which is why Chay and Sunny act so differently despite being the same age. He’s an older brother, she’s an only child.

Ramón, Dapper and Leo are triplets!

It’s been 5 years since Juana, Tilín and Trump died, and 3 since Bobby.

Tallulah is older than Trump, by a couple of months (but she doesn’t know this)

Richas is now the same age Bobby was when he died

Pomme is 7 months older than Richas

The mode (? is that how you say it) of the eggs' age is 10 while they have a median age of

8.3 for the egg island babies

9.4 for the seven runaway eggs

9.6 for the Quesadilla island eggs (living and dead)

10 for the dead eggs

5.5 for the dead eggs at the time of death

9.1 for all the living eggs

9.3 for all the eggs

Edit: guys I lied. Chayanne is 14, Tallulah is 12 and Pepito is 4. I refuse to redo the math, just know that Sunny and Tallulah are the same age and that Pepito is a literal baby. TO ME

Edit 2: I did this one or two weeks after we got the egg island eggs, and since the some new canon info has come to light

Empanada is actually the older one! She reads as a 10 year old to me, and Sunny now reads as an 8 year old. Empy now have some older sister vibes so I don’t know what I was on about

While I still don’t think they viewed each other as siblings in the beginning, the egg island babies now do share this bond

We have a new baby! I think Chunsik is the youngest of the Federation issued eggs, at 6, but I don’t think Pepito is older than him. They could be the same age, though, making my initial Pepito age correct!

I still refuse to redo the math

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp headcanons #5.5 made me cry a bit #qsmp sunny #qsmp empanada #qsmp pepito #qsmp chayanne #qsmp ramon #qsmp dapper #qsmp leonarda #qsmp tallulah #qsmp pomme #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp trump #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp tilin #qsmp bobby #i hope that's everyone #qsmp chunsik

[targaryenroyalty]

Made for you

Daemon Targaryen x reader

Trigger warnings

Princess myaella was known throughout the 7 kingdoms as the most beautiful woman alive. She was most known for being the second daughter of king viserys and his wife Elissa Lannister, and for being Prince daemon Targaryen wife,

She was also known for her kindness and for claiming a wild dragon, a few months after her death there were 4 statues built in her honor 3 are still standing., the towns folk were said to love the princess and her death caused never seen before sadness the likes in which we have never seen after.

She was said to have loved dancing, singing, dragon riding and painting, she was also said to help the poor by giving them food every week.

During the war it was known that the princess would bring clean clothes, water, food, and supplies to help them.

After the war, the princess helped to rebuild shelters and homes.

The princess was said to only be surrounded by a small group of lady’s as she didn’t like lots of company around her, two of her closet companions were known to be lady alerie Tyrell, later known as lady alerie stark and her cousin lady lucella Lannister, though princess myaella and lady alerie had a fallen out during the dance of the dragon and their friendship was said to never have recovered, but it was never said why.

Her first husband was lord but he was poisoned by an unknown person during their wedding, rumored to be Otto Hightower. It was said he wanted to have the princess and his grandson, King aegon the second to marry but never succeeded and king aegon married his sister queen helaena Targaryen, while princess myaella married her uncle Prince daemon Targaryen who was also rumored to have poisoned her first husband.

Rumours would suggest that the princess and Prince daemon where involved before the wedding because of the prince's apparent touch’s towards the princess, but there was never any evidence and the bedsheets were checked the next morning, proving that they were just rumors and lies to try to ruin the princess’s reputation.

Princess myaella claimed her dragon at 6 years old when she was visiting dragon stone with her father and older sister rhaenrya, she was said to have run off to explore the island and returned with a large wild dragon whom she named kostbares Juwel meaning precious jewel, we know the princess had great love for her dragon it was known she would ride her dragon at least 4 or 5 time a week it was said to greatly annoy her father king viserys. kostbares juwel laid 17 eggs, 8 of which were put in princess myaella and Prince daemons children's crib, all princess myaella children's eggs hatched, which was considered strange.

Prince daemon and princess myaella had 10 children together, 8 of whom reached adulthood and 4 who lived long into their 60s.

Princess myaella was known throughout the 7 kingdoms as the most beautiful woman alive. She was also known for her kindness and for claiming a dragon that was unknown by anybody, a few months after her death there were 4 statues built in her honor 3 are still standing., the towns folk were said to love the princess and her death caused never seen before sadness the likes in which we have never seen after.

She was said to have loved dancing, singing, dragon riding and painting, she was also said to help the poor by giving them food every week.

During the war it was known that the princess would bring clean clothes, water, food, and supplies to help them.

After the war, the princess helped to rebuild shelters and homes.

The princess was said to only be surrounded by a small group of lady’s as she didn’t like lots of company around her, two of her closet companions were known to be lady alerie Tyrell, later known as lady alerie stark and her cousin lady lucella Lannister, though princess myaella and lady alerie had a fallen out during the dance of the dragon and their friendship was said to never have recovered, but it was never said why.

Her first husband was lord Barx but he was poisoned by an unknown person during their wedding, rumored to be Otto Hightower. It was said he wanted to have the princess and his grandson, King aegon the second to marry but never succeeded and king aegon married his sister queen helaena Targaryen, while princess myaella married her uncle Prince daemon Targaryen who was also rumored to have poisoned her first husband.

Rumours would suggest that the princess and Prince daemon where involved before the wedding because of the prince's apparent touch’s towards the princess, but there was never any evidence and the bedsheets were checked the next morning, proving that they were just rumors and lies to try to ruin the princess’s reputation.

Princess myaella claimed her dragon at 6 years old when she was visiting dragon stone with her father and older sister rhaenrya, she was said to have run off to explore the island and returned with a large wild dragon whom she named kostbares Juwel meaning precious jewel, we know the princess had great love for her dragon it was known she would ride her dragon at least 4 or 5 time a week it was said to greatly annoy her father king viserys. kostbares juwel laid 17 eggs, 8 of which were put in princess myaella and Prince daemons children's crib, all princess myaella children's eggs hatched, which was considered strange.

Prince daemon and princess myaella had 10 children together, 8 of whom reached adulthood and 4 who lived long healthy lives.

Please let me no what you guys think!!

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon au #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon x you #targaryen #targaryenroyalty #oc #au #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house of #house of the dragon #dance of the dragons #got #game of thrones #asoif fanfic #asoiaf #Lannister