#like everyone else around him was holding them normally but no not mr macho man no drink wine Winchester

[tar-frogs]

Head full, many thoughts and all of them are about Dean trying to hold a wine glass

#why does he hold wine glasses /like that/ #like everyone else around him was holding them normally but no not mr macho man no drink wine Winchester #I literally can’t sleep #my brain won’t let me stop thinking about this #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #anti bibros #jensen ackles

[cyoc49]

HIMBO Magazine: Changing Departments

*click! click! click! click!*

Derek listened to the camera flash as he sat on the side of the bed. He was currently doing a photo shoot for HIMBO magazine, a fashion and lifestyle magazine “for the modern gay male™”. Fake blood dripped against his chest - they were doing some Halloween type of shoot. But let’s be honest, the blood wasn’t the focus of the shot: it was his body. Derek had never been the best student - and his attitude certainly didn’t help - but if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make his body look as sexy as humanly possible. Derek scoured nutrition blogs to make sure he stayed up to date on everything related to fitness, and the dedication showed itself in his beautiful, sculpted body. Sitting here with no shirt on and wearing a pair of lethally tight skinny jeans, he looked like every gay man’s wet dream. To put it simply, Derek was hot as hell; problem is, he knew he was hot at hell.

“Alright, that’s good. I think we have what we need, thank you Mr. Hale” the director said. Derek stood up and two twinkish looking assistants came over to remove the blood. Derek stood still and tried to ignore the two obviously gay men putting their hands all over his body. Derek was the kind of guy who thought all gay men were jumping at the bit for any man they can find. Doing a photo shoot for a gay magazine was certainly not his dream, but hey: a paycheck is a paycheck.

After he was cleaned off, Derek put on a t shirt and enjoyed the feeing of it stretched tight against his pecs. He slung a Louis Vuitton backpack over his shoulders. All he had to do was collect his check and he could be done with this homo magazine. Derek headed towards the doorway connecting the studio space to the rest of the offices. He turned the corner into the hallway, only to immediately crash into someone coming from the opposite direction. Papers went flying.

Derek hesitated, then reluctantly crouched down to help the man pick up his papers. As he did, the man spoke to him in a deep voice “You know, you should really watch where you’re going. People are busy around here.”

This was the remark that set Derek off. It was enough that he had done a photo shoot outside his comfort zone, and ran into someone while he was leaving, but now he was being sassed by some worker who couldn’t slow down enough to watch out for passers. Derek had had enough of this magazine. “You know,” he said, “I’m surprised. I thought you fags would be more excited to slam into other guys.”

Derek could sense the shift in mood immediately. All the workers around him who had been buzzing about immediately stopped and looked at th scene. The office had gone dead silent. As Derek looked around at all the men staring at them, the man he had bumped into finished collecting his papers and stood up, allowing Derek to finally look at him properly. Woah, this was a fine looking man. Strappingly tall and ruggedly handsome. He filled out his expensive-looking three-piece suit perfectly. His whole demeanor was one of absolute confidence. Finally, Derek realized what had happened. He hadn’t bumped into some random employee. He had knocked over and subsequently cussed out the boss of the whole place.

*Well*, Derek said to himself, *I fucked up bad this time*.

The boss was surprisingly well-composed for someone who had just been called a slur, Derek thought. As if to prove this point, the boss suddenly started laughing. It was a good, deep laugh. And when he laughed, everyone else in the building laughed along with him. Derek stared at everyone in the office in confusion. Why did they find this so funny? Was it because he’s their boss? And they were all looking at the boss with such admiration. Derek just hoped this meant the issue would blow over and he could leave before embarrassing himself sooner.

But before he could step away, he was spoken to. “I used to get really angry when people said stuff like that to me,” the boss explained in a rich, inviting voice, “now it just makes me sad, because I see all the failed potential hiding behind that language.”

Derek took a little offense to that last statement, but he knew he was in no position to argue right now. It seemed like the laughter was the all-clear the rest of the office needed to know their boss was okay, because the normal hum of voices and keyboards had returned. Now it was just him and the extremely powerful man he had pissed off. Derek broke the silence. “Look, Mr...”

“Christian Le Maítre” the gorgeous boss informed him, “Editor in Chief of HIMBO magazine. But everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.”

“Right. Well, uh, Mr. M, I’m really sorry about-“

“No you’re not.” Christian cut him off without missing a beat. “I’ve seen so many models like you come and go through these halls. You think you’re hot shit, and take pity on all of my boys in this office who had to take desk jobs because their bodies weren’t nice enough to let them get by on looks alone. But you know, we’re hard workers here. And we’re a close knit family.”

Derek objected to being interrupted, but as Christian talked, he felt his defenses melt away with every word. Mr. M was right, Derek realized. I am a narcissistic asshole who holds myself above others. He had never felt like this before. But everything Mr. M said just seemed right. When this gorgeous, confident man spoke, Derek realized he was speaking the truth.

“What’s your name, son?” Mr. M asked him.

“D-Derek, sir. Derek Hale.” Derek was never one stutter, but how else could he feel right now?

“Well Derek, I’m sure our lame little office doesn’t fit your macho man swagger persona, but I think you’d find that working here is pretty great.”

Was that an offer? Derek didn’t know. He had completely forgotten the context of their conversation, and indeed his reason for being in this office in the first place was slowly becoming a distant memory. All Derek knew in this moment was that he HAD to work at HIMBO. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without working here.

Derek tried to compose a response, but was increasingly timid in the presence of this incredible man. “Well, uh, Mr. M. Perhaps if you have any opening I might be able to, uh-”

Mr. M just laughed again, and this time Derek laughed right along with him.

“Well I’m shocked to hear you change your tune so quickly, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Working here is kind of a dream job, if I do say so myself. But there’s no need to submit your CV and go through the traditional channels. I am actually prepared to offer you a job on the spot.”

Derek felt his ears burning. How lucky was he! To be offered a job at the best company on earth. He would take it immediately!

“Mr. M, it would be an honor to work for you” Derek bowed his head as he said this. Respect was important, especially for the man who was giving him a job no questions asked.

“Glad to hear it, sport! Now full disclosure, it’s a clerking position. I know, not the most exciting stuff, but here at HIMBO we believe even the most mundane work can be made magical! Of course, you would have to change a few of your behaviors to *best* fit the position. Your ego, your hot-headedness. Do you think those are things good for a clerk to have?”

“No, sir” Derek said with convocation. “Anything you want me to change, I will change.”

Christian cracked a smile, as if Derek had said something unintentionally funny. “Well I admire your commitment. It’s just, clerks are so straight-laced and serious, and you are such a character, Derek. Mr. Macho Man with a great body. Actually, I do like this body.” Christian looked Derek up and down, “I think that can stay. But as for everything else, well, I can take care of that.”

Christian stopped talking and instead just looked at Derek. The hopeful employee stood there silently, unsure of what to do. Just then, he suddenly felt a draining feeling. It wasn’t his muscles or his IQ or any of that stuff that he felt fading away, it was more like he was losing... his personality? All the pride Derek felt over his hot body and great life was disappearing. All the anger he get towards people not like him, slipping away. But it wasn’t replaced by new emotions, it wasn’t replaced by anything. Derek stopped feeling strong feelings about much of anything. He liked his job, he followed the news, but he had never had any opinions of his own. Never tried to be individual or stand out. Derek was becoming like his new favorite flavor of ice cream: vanilla.

As Derek’s personality slowly morphed him into a contender for the World’s Most Dull Man, his wardrobe changed to follow suit. His designer t shirt loosened out a bit. The sleeves grew down his arms before spouting buttons and cuffs. Buttons also sprouted down the middle, and the shirt gained a collar, becoming a basic button-up shirt. A white plaid pattern spread across the shir. At the same time, Derek felt his skinny jeans go “pah” as all the tightness shrugged out of them, changing them into (gag) regular fit pants. They lightened to gray and changed material to thin cotton, becoming work slacks. His new plaid shirt automatically tucked itself into the pants, and a brown leather belt formed around his waist, with his expensive designer sneakers morphing into brown leather dress shoes to match. The LV backpack he wore fell as one of the straps broke off, before disappearing altogether. The remaining strap lengthened and slung itself over his shoulder, and the bag itself shifted into a basic messenger bag, holding plenty of important documents and paperwork.

For a brief moment, Derek felt confusion and fear. Why were these changes happening to him? Where did his nice stuff go, and what were these boring-ass clothes replacing them? These thoughts only lasted for half a second, before Derek realized how right this was. This was his style, or more accurately his *lack* of style. Derek had never cared about trends, or getting fancy new clothes. As long as they fit him well and looked professional enough for work, that was all that mattered in Derek’s eyes. A Ross Membership Card popped into his wallet to cement this change.

Derek felt something in his pocket, and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. These were the glasses he needed to see, of course. Derek opened them up and put them on. To follow suit, his hair parted itself to the side and became thick with gel holding his new professional haircut in place.

As promised, Christian had left Derek his body, but had taken basically everything else from him. Where there had once stood an arrogant, trendy mode, there was now a walking turtleneck. Normally in cases like this, Derek would sprout new memories of his new life. But no memories came, because Derek didn’t really *have* a life. He was now a total office drone. From 9-5 he worked faithfully for HIMBO, and after that he went home and solved jigsaw puzzles until it was time for bed... except on the nights where Mr. M invited Derek to his house. Derek truly wanted nothing more from life.

Christian smiled at the new corporate boy that stood before him. “Okay I think you’ve handled the onboarding process well, Dirk. Dirk, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Dirk replied matter of factly. Dirk Kent. Filing clerk for HIMBO magazine.

“Great! But there’s actually one more thing I need from you. I’m still a little raw about that comment of yours earlier, and I would hate for it to taint our working relationship with each other, so allow me to bury this hatchet.”

Christian snapped his fingers, and Dirk felt his impressive manhood shrink, and shrink, and shrink, until he heard a “pop!” sound and knew that it was no more. Poor Dirk was smooth as could be in his private areas. But he didn’t mind: being unable to orgasm helped him focus on his work. And besides, if Mr. M needed help Dirk still had two perfectly serviceable holes on him.

Christian laughed again, eliciting another laugh from Dirk. “Dirk, pal, I don’t think I have ever been happier with one of my new hires. But you know, I do seal my deals with a kiss.”

“Why thank you sir!” Dirk replied with enthusiasm, as he allowed Christian to walk over, turn up his chin, and plant a kiss on his lips. And it was the greatest kiss Dirk had ever felt. Indeed, it was the only kiss he had ever felt, but as far as kisses go it was still pretty spectacular. As Dirk stood there with his lips pressed against those of his incredivle boss, he knew there was nothing more he would want from life.

As they parted, Derek looked hopefully up at his boss “Where should I start with my work, sir?” He lived to work.

Christian smiled again. “I’ll film you in on that in a minute, but let me take you to your desk. You’ll be down in the accounting department. In fact, I think you’ll be desk neighbors with our other new hire Bartholomew! You’ll love him. A total nerd but a sweet kid regardless.” Without warning, Christian turned and walked down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything. Dirk instinctively followed him, just as he instinctively obeyed every command Mr. M gave him. Life was easier that way.

#gaytf #gay #officetf #suittf #tyler hoechlin #suit #slick hair #derek hale #teen wolf tf #nerd derek #nerd Derek hale

[thatsamericano]

I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Brief appearances from Spain, Belgium, and Veneziano. Background mention of Gerita.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, misgendering, and gender dysphoria. Some internalized acephobia. The fic is overall very fluffy in tone, and none of the characters are shown dealing with someone who doesn’t accept their sexuality or gender identity.

Summary: Romano didn’t always have the words to tell people who he was, but now that he does, he wants America to know he’s transgender. He’s scared, but he isn’t going to let that stop him anymore.

Word Count: 3065

Savino was glad he had words to succinctly describe who he was now. A long time ago, there hadn’t been words to describe the innate sense of wrongness he felt in his own body, his aversion to the name his grandfather had given him that went beyond his personal issues with the man, or the inexplicable way he’d felt like crying every time someone complimented him by telling him what a pretty little girl he was.

Centuries ago, when he was small, confused, and terrified, he tried to explain it for the first time. Spain was his guardian, and the only person he could turn to. Savino had told Antonio that he didn’t want to wear dresses like Belgium did. He wanted to wear trousers like Spain and have his hair cut like Spain’s too.

“But why?” Spain had asked, brow creased in confusion. “You look so preciosa in the clothes you have now.”

Romano had looked away, ashamed. “I… I don’t want to be preciosa, Spain. I want to be precioso.”

Spain blinked, stunned by what Romano had said. He’d probably never heard of such a thing, but to his credit, he had reacted as well as could be expected. He smiled at Romano and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make you some trousers and a shirt then, mijo.”

“Grazie, Tonio.” There was something that felt so right about Spain calling him mijo, acknowledging him as a son instead of a daughter. He puffed up his chest with a pride he’d never felt before.

“Of course. Should I call you another name too?”

“Just call me Romano for now.” He wasn’t sure of the human name he wanted yet.

Spain had helped so much after Romano told him the truth as he understood it back then. He cut Romano’s hair, dressed him as a boy, and agreed to use the human name Romano eventually decided upon. Spanish and Italian were both gendered languages, and Spain was very good about referring to him with the right endearments and adjectives. He complimented his little henchman just as much as he had before, but he never called him preciosa again.

When Belgium saw him in trousers for the first time, she had naturally been confused. Antonio had rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly explained how he had been mistaken. Romano had always been a boy, but he hadn’t known. And since he was a boy, he ought to wear boy clothes and have his hair cut like one.

Belgium had bent down closer to his height and told Savino what a handsome boy he was. And that had made him feel so wonderful, to have someone else see him as a boy, especially a beautiful woman like Belgium. Romano had been able to explain everything to her later once he was an adult and had better language to describe who he was. Belgium nodded along with a soft little smile and said she hadn’t known that at the time, but figured it might have been something like that later, when she had been able to reflect on what happened with a better, more modern understanding of transgender people. She agreed to keep it secret for Savino, since it wasn’t something he wanted spread around.

He’d told Veneziano too. By then, he was presenting as a boy and most people believed he was one because they didn’t know he’d ever been considered a girl. Veneziano knew about his past, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to him. “Famiglia is famiglia,” he’d said. “And a fratello’s just as good as a sorella.” After asking for his new human name, Feliciano had hugged him and told him he didn’t need to know anything else unless Savino wanted to share it with him. From that day on, Feli had been just like Tonio. He never spoke to him as if he wasn’t a man, even if the idea of someone like Savino being a man wasn’t well understood at the time.

There were others he’d told over the years, mostly his prospective lovers. Savino couldn’t risk someone being disgusted by the sight of his naked body, so he’d always told them in advance, long before he got involved with them physically. But each time he was taking a huge risk, not just of rejection but of violence. Humans were not kind to men like him, and nations wouldn’t necessarily be either. There were many people he wanted but never pursued for that very reason, and America was one of them.

Alfred seemed kind, and he was a loud and vocal supporter of LGBT rights. He saw himself as a hero, and he truly wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Once, Alfred had put his arm around Savino’s shoulders and promised that Romano could count on him if he was ever in a fix. Romano had pretended to be annoyed, mostly because he liked America’s arm around his shoulders a little too much.  He liked Alfred a little too much, and he had for decades, ever since he had lived in his house so long ago and grown to feel like Alfred’s place was a home as much as he anywhere that wasn’t South Italy could be. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved him, not now, not when he hadn’t revealed something so important about who he was. It was one thing to be rejected by someone you had a silly crush on that didn’t mean anything, but it was another thing to be rejected by someone you loved. Savino didn’t know if he could survive the latter.

Romano was in such a better place than he’d been when he told Spain that first time, so long ago. He knew who he was and he had words for it that would make sense to other people who had never felt as he did. He’d been living as a man for centuries, and no one had questioned that in a long time. The twentieth century had brought with it medicines and surgeries for men like him, wonderful inventions that could bring his body more in line with his internal sense of himself. Romano still had occasional bouts of dysphoria, but now he could look at his naked body in the mirror without shame. He was mostly fine with who he was these days, and with the long journey he’d taken to get there. But would America be?

There was only one way to find out. Romano frowned down at his phone as he pressed the button to call America. It rang once, twice before America picked up.

“Hey, Little Italy! I’m so glad you called! I’ve been totally bored, and I’ve had no one to talk to all day!”

Romano smirked and decided to tease America a little. He enjoyed teasing him, seeing the way his face would get all red as he shyly glanced away. If only he’d ever been able to kiss Alfred when he was acting like that. “So you were lonely without me, Fredo?”

“I… uh, I didn’t say that. No, ‘cause like I tried to call Mattie, but he was hanging out with the Netherlands and Cuba and was too busy to do anything with his own brother.” Savino just knew that Alfred was pouting and making sad puppy eyes at being “abandoned” by Canada for his friends.

Savino snorted. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Feli’s on a date with his macho potato right now.”

Alfred giggled. “Macho potato. I always thought it was so funny when you call him that. But I’ve never really understood why.”

Because I’m jealous, Savino thought. I’m jealous of his height and his muscles, and how he got them so easily. I’m jealous of how he was born to look so macho with hardly any effort, and I’ve had to work so hard just to get where I am right now.

Savino cleared his throat and tried to shove the dysphoric thoughts away. “I don’t fucking know. He likes potatoes, and he likes to pretend he’s Mr. Macho Man. Do I need another reason?”

“Nah, that makes sense, I guess. But you can be pretty macho too. I still remember that one time on Halloween you dressed up as the Grandma from Little Red Riding Hood.” America paused, and Romano could hear him letting out a long sigh over the phone line. “You were wearing a dress, but like in a manly way? I don’t know how to explain it, but it was macho of you. Very macho.”

Dio, Alfred sounded turned on just from the memory of it. Savino remembered that costume. Spain and Belgium had both been surprised when he volunteered to dress up as the Grandma in keeping with their Little Red Riding Hood theme, and Spain had even pulled him aside to make sure he was comfortable wearing a dress, given how much it had bothered him as a child. But Romano had explained it was different this time. He was dressing up as a character, not him, and it was just that one night. Romano had worn sunglasses and toted in a gun to feel more tough and manly, and no one mistook his for a little old woman. That costume now hung in the back of his closet, behind the suit separates and shirts that were his normal, daily attire. Savino had considered finding selling the costume on eBay or donating it to an organization that took women’s clothing since he’d probably never wear it again.

But if he could make Alfred sound like that again, maybe Savino would hold onto the dress.

“Vinny? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just drifted off for a minute there.” His hand moved through the air like he was sweeping cobwebs out of his mind.

“It’s cool. Oh! Speaking of costumes, Japan was talking about this awesome anime convention in Tokyo next month. Hopefully my boss will give me enough time off for me to go, because it sounds amazing.”

Romano smiled at America’s enthusiasm. “I hope so too.”

Alfred launched into an excited discussion of all the characters he might cosplay as at the convention if he got to go. Romano didn’t know many of them, and America was speaking so fast he couldn’t hear the names of all of them, but he listened attentively regardless.

This was nice, Romano reflected. His friendship with America was warm, safe, and comfortable. He could listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. If he didn’t say anything, never brought up the real reason he had called Alfred, it could stay this way forever.

But the thing was that he would gladly listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. That Alfred made him feel warm, safe, and comfortable just by being himself. He was so close to letting himself fall in love with the idiota, and there was only one thing stopping him.

Savino broke into the middle of Alfred’s sentence. “Alfredo, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it something bad? You sound really scared. Is someone hurting you? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“No… no one is. I’m fine. This is just really hard for me to say.” It had been so difficult each time. With Spain, Veneziano, and Belgium, he didn’t have words for it, and he had to explain himself in painful, drawn out sentences that didn’t always reflect the truth he knew in his heart (like telling Belgium he had been born a girl, when he’d never really felt like one). He was afraid of being rejected by people who mattered to him, and he was afraid they might not even comprehend what he was trying to tell them. Now, Savino had words, but that didn’t make him any less scared of losing someone who mattered to him.

“What is it?” Alfred asked gently.

He took a deep breath, in and out, then bit the bullet. “I’m transgender.”

Savino tried not to panic in the stunned silence than followed. Luckily that silence only lasted a few seconds. “Oh, wow, that’s… that’s awesome!”

Romano laughed in relief. “It is?”

“Of course it is, dude! I am so proud of you, and I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me!”

Savino closed his eyes, feeling that last barrier to falling in love with Alfred giving way. “You made it easy for me to feel comfortable, caro.”

“Umm, can I ask you a question?” Alfred’s voice sounded hesitant and strained. “I promise it won’t be too weird.”

“Sure, I guess.” Savino frowned and brushed some imaginary dust off his knee. People could ask invasive questions when someone revealed they were trans, but that didn’t sound like what Alfred was planning to do.

“What kind of transgender person are you? Because I just called you dude, but only because I called you dude so many times before and didn’t know it was wrong. I’d never intentionally misgender someone right after they came out to me. That would be epically shitty of me.” Alfred seemed worried and apologetic.

“It’s okay. I’m a trans guy, so you can call me dude if you want to.”

“Thank God! For a second, I thought I’d fucked up really badly. He/him pronouns still okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your name, Savino? And the nicknames I give you, Vinny and Little Italy?”

Savino grinned. “Yes. And I don’t even know why you’re worried about Little Italy. That has nothing to do with my gender.”

Alfred chuckled. “I figured I should make sure, just in case.”

“I’m glad I decided to tell you today,” Romano said. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. You didn’t seem like you’d have a bad reaction, but it’s a hard thing to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred paused, and it felt like he was preparing to say something important. Savino waited until he was ready. “I’m uhh… queer, I guess? I’m not really sure what to call myself.”

Savino smiled sadly at the insecurity he could hear in Alfred’s voice. “That’s okay. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call myself either.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.” America sighed, and he sounded distressed. “It’s… fuck, I don’t even know how to explain this. For most of my life, I thought I was asexual. Well, actually, I thought I was broken and that there was something wrong with me, but I’m trying not to feel that way anymore.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Damn it, he wished America wasn’t on another continent so he could hug him. He could probably use a hug right now.

“But then there was this guy. This one amazing, wonderful, really special guy.” Alfred laughed softly, thinking about whatever lucky bastard he was obviously in love with, and Savino wondered who it might be. Lithuania? Japan? Prussia? South Korea? America was close to a lot of people.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was the lucky bastard.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever, umm, wanted that way,” America continued. “I don’t think it’s because he’s a guy, because I’m not into guys generally, and I’m not into girls either. But I do like the specific ways he is a guy, so maybe I’m gay? I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Fredo. You don’t have to label yourself if you don’t want to.” No wonder America was so confused. He had only liked one person his entire life. That wasn’t much information to determine your sexuality on.

“I really appreciate you saying that, but I wish I could label myself. All my other friends seem to know what genders they’re into, and it feels kind of weird that I don’t.”

“Well, you seem to be fixated on this one particular person. Do you think anything would be different if the guy you told me about had been a girl instead?” Romano wanted to help America figure this out, since his uncertainty seemed to be bothering him. This was the only way Romano could think of.

America thought it over. “I guess I still don’t know,” he answered quietly. His volume was more typical of Canada than what Romano was used to from America. “When you told me you were transgender and I wasn’t sure how you were transgender, I was more worried about hurting you than if I’d still think you were hot as a girl.”

Savino teared up. He was the lucky bastard after all. “Alfredo, you…”

“Crap, I didn’t make things weird, did I?! We can totally go back and pretend I didn’t say anything. You know me, open mouth, insert foot.” Alfred laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to go back and pretend you didn’t say anything. You know what I really want, idiota? I want to kiss the hell out of you, like I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. But I’d have to get on a goddamn plane and be trapped in a tin can of death with hundreds of other passengers for several hours to make that happen.” Romano hated flying, but he was willing to consider it.

“Or I could fly to see you. I’ve got a private jet, so I wouldn’t have to waste time going through airport security.”

Romano grinned. “That works too.”

“Can I call you back in a little bit? I need to call my boss to make sure he can spare me for a few days while I fly out to see you.”

“Sure, tesoro. Talk to you soon.”

Alfred hung up the phone, and Savino set his phone down on the table in front of him. Coming out to America had gone much better than he could’ve expected. Romano was glad he didn’t have that burden on his shoulders anymore, and he was hoping America would call back in a few minutes to let him know his boss’s decision. If he couldn’t be spared for a few days and Romano’s boss wouldn’t let him go either, they would have to find some way around that. As far as Romano was concerned, he’d been waiting more than long enough as it was, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

#hetalia #romerica #transtalia #trans hetalia #trans romano #trans south italy #hws america #hws romano #hws south italy #sonmano #hws spain #hws belgium #hws veneziano #hws north italy #aph america #aph romano #aph south italy #aph spain #aph belgium #aph veneziano #aph north italy #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #hws fanfic #hws fanfiction #aph fanfic #aph fanfiction #my writing #original post

[trashyswitch]

Picani's Therapy House

Virgil feels like he might need some specialized therapy to help with being touch-starved and anxious about asking for love. Fortunately, there is a Therapy House nearby that just might help him...

There, he meets Dr. Picani and his special assistant: Şüräle!

Şüräle is a mythological character that I revamped and turned into an OC. Here's the link to the character:

https://trashyswitch.tumblr.com/post/625922793756917760/%C5%9F%C3%BCr%C3%A4le-added-drawings

In this fanfic though, Şüräle is a cute little grey stuffed mouse. This is what they look like: https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/uOEAAOSwlixfJJgE/s-l1600.jpg

Hope you enjoy! And thanks @agarus-fallen-lershal for the adorable suggestion!

Chapter 1: A Welcoming Environment

Virgil walked into the open door and looked around the room for a second. The waiting room was childish-looking, but also homely. The room was painted a light purply blue color and covered with vines filled with little multi-colored flowers on them. The waiting room chairs were comfy-looking dorm chairs that were littered with cuddly blankets and fluffy faux fur pillows. There were side tables with sequined stuffies and those squishie toys, and even a pop up bin filled with pillow pets! Lastly: in the middle of the room was a kids table and chairs filled with interactive books and coloring pages with crayons.

Virgil smiled at the cute atmosphere, and walked towards the secretary. The secretary was wearing a light blue collared shirt with glasses, and had a big genuine smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Special Therapy House! I’m Patton. Are you here for an appointment?” The person at the desk asked.

Virgil was immediately caught off guard by the loud voice, but felt somewhat comforted by the heartwarming personality. “Y-...Yes.” Virgil replied.

Suddenly, someone else walked into the room. He had a black jacket on, a white shirt underneath and a pair of sunglasses on despite the man being inside a building. “Hey Pat: tone down the excitement a little bit. You’re scaring the poor little anxious man.” The stranger warned.

Patton sighed and turned to face him. “I can act how I want. And I want to make the new person feel welcome.” Patton explained.

“Well, guess what? You’re making the new person feel like running away. You wanna make them feel comfortable and safe. Not overwhelmed and anxious.” Remy explained.

“I’m...actually okay with how Pat introduced the therapy house. It...made me feel better about the type of therapy I’m here for.” Virgil explained a little quietly, but loud enough for the guy to see.

The guy with the sunglasses narrowed his eyes, but soon softened his expression. “Okay. A little warning though, I’m the only one that calls him Pat. Alright?” The guy warned.

Virgil put his hands up in surrender. “Okay.” Virgil replied.

When the sunglasses guy left the room, Patton waved him off. “It’s alright. I like the nickname. I couldn’t care less.” Patton explained to him. Which therapist are you looking to see?” Patton asked.

Virgil started to wrack his brain for a minute. What was his name again? Quickly though, Virgil remembered at least one of the names.

“Picani?” Virgil guessed.

Patton smiled. “Emile Picani! He’s a great therapist. You’re gonna like him!” Patton reacted. “You can go cuddle yourself in a seat over there, and he’ll be ready to see you shortly.” Patton directed.

“Thank you.” Virgil said with a smile before heading over to one of the seats. Virgil picked up one of the fur pillows, and immediately hugged it. Upon seeing an orange pillow on his chair, Virgil grabbed it and wrapped it around himself eagerly. He felt comfy, but it wasn’t enough. Virgil started looking around the room and came across an open chest filled with multi-colored blankets that were each made out of different materials. Happily, Virgil walked up to the chest with his orange blanket and started putting all the blankets on his head and shoulders. Sky blue, pink, brown, red, many different colors of blankets were now piled on top of Virgil. With his body now ready to marshmallow tackle someone, Virgil closed the chest and slumped into the waiting room chair with confidence.

“Uuuuuh...Hello?” Patton muttered, looking at the walking pile of blankets.

Virgil looked up at Patton with insane eyes and a mix of excitement. “I’m a blanket monster…” Virgil whispered in awe.

Patton giggled from the desk. It looked like Virgil was going to destroy the world with his blanket powers. What those powers would really be, Patton couldn’t tell you.

“Mr. San-...oh.” Someone said. Virgil looked up at the door, and gulped when he realized who it was. The man was wearing a white-collared shirt with a pink tie, and a beige sweater overtop. What really told him it was him though, was the name tag that said ‘Dr. Emile Picani, Psychologist and Therapist’.

“.........Hiiiiiiii Mr. Picani…” Virgil said awkwardly, still covered in tons of blankets.

Picani just bursted out laughing and whipped out his phone so he could take a picture. “Oh my gosh! Who knew I’d come across a blanket monster!” Picani joked as he took pictures.

Despite the cute reaction from Dr. Picani, Virgil’s embarrassment struggled to leave him and began to manifest into somewhat awkward laughter. With Picani’s help, Virgil put the blankets back and walked into the therapy room.

The therapy room had the same homely feeling put into it. There was chairs to sit on, a table to draw at if you wanted, a box of stuff in the corner, and a sheeted bed added to the side of the room. Atop the bed, was a little stuffed animal shaped like a mouse.

...Wait...Was the stuffy moving?

“Welcome to my love-atory! It’s a laboratory for those who are lacking different types of love and affection. One of my favorite psychologists to quote, is Neil R. Carlson. After a while of studying kids with little reactions to touch, Carlson said ‘When the enriched kids returned to the typical conditions that involved little touching, the physical and behavioral advantage they had obtained faded. Although the enriched group showed a better response to stress as long as eighteen months later, they still were socially withdrawn and failed to respond normally to other children and adults’.” Dr. Picani explained.

Virgil looked at him.

“Basically what that means, is even though touch-deprived kids are able to handle stress better, they are still lacking the ability to accept touch and affection.” Picani told him. “Have the people in your family been hugging you and giving you lots of love?” Picani asked.

Virgil sat down onto the bed. “Well, I have been getting lots of hugs from one specific caretaker. But everyone else has either grown up quickly, or grown to hate hugs.” Virgil explained.

Picani frowned hurtfully. “Really?” Picani reacted.

“I mean, I do get hugs and love. But I would probably get more love and affection if I could work up the courage to ask.” Virgil explained further, growing awkward from the idea of asking.

“Sounds like you’re a shy man!” another voice spoke. It sounded like the voice was coming from beside him. Virgil looked to the right side of him and reacknowledged the mouse stuffy that was there. He noticed it moving slightly before, but this time…

It was waving at him!

“Hi there!” It spoke suddenly.

Virgil’s eyes widened with surprise as he scooted away from the stuffy. He pointed at it. “Do-Does this stuffy have an automatic talking sensor or something?!” Virgil asked.

“Well yes, but actually no. He does have an automatic sensor...but by sensor, I mean ‘he’s alive’. This is Şüräle! My plushy assistant!” Picani introduced.

Virgil gulped nervously and looked at the little mouse stuffed animal. It was grey, had flat paws and even had a long, peach-colored tail! It looked somewhat realistic, but also cartoony. It had black eyes and no specific nose piece at the end, as well as no visible mouth.

“Nice to meet you! Do you have a name?” The mouse greeted.

Virgil kept in mind the moving black line that outlined the mouse’s mouth. It was...kinda cute! “V-...Virgil. My name is Virgil.” He replied, before holding out a hand. The mouse took one look at the hand, and immediately grew curious and eager for love. So, Şüräle placed his forehead onto Virgil’s hand and started rubbing its face on it. Virgil, surprised by the strange reply to his handshake, started giving Şüräle little pets and scratches. Şüräle practically melted like a puddle from the scratches and laid itself down on its back onto the bed so it could get some belly scratches as well.

“Good to see you two are getting along!” Picani reacted eagerly.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Virgil asked.

“A boy. A manly, macho boy!” Şüräle replied, showing off its muscles and claws.

Virgil laughed at this and gave Şüräle some belly squeezes and scratches. “About as manly as a toddler.” Virgil teased.

Şüräle guffawed in surprise and started kicking, squirming and giggling. “Hehehehey! Thahahat tihihihicklehes! Hohohow dihid yohohou knohohohohow?!” Şüräle asked.

Despite his manliness being proven wrong, Şüräle seemed to love the tickles! And Virgil seemed to notice this right away! “So, I guess you like tickles too?” Virgil asked Picani.

Picani blinked in surprise and slowly started scratching the back of his head. “W-Well...yeah. It’s why I came up with this type of therapy in the first place.” Picani explained.

Virgil nodded in understanding. His hand slowly started to drift away from Şüräle, allowing Şüräle to get out and start breathing and talking properly.

“How would you like to start now?” Şüräle suggested.

Picani nodded his head and snapped his 1 finger. “Yes. Good idea.” Picani replied. “So Virgil: telling by your cute little reaction to Şüräle, I think you are a bit of a Ler, as well as a Lee.” Picani explained. “So, that makes this a little more complicated. Do you prefer to be tickled? Or would you rather tickle someone?” Picani asked.

Virgil looked down and visibly blushed at the internal thoughts he was having. “I wanna...I wanna be tickled.” Virgil replied.

Picani clapped his hands together. “Wonderful!” He reacted as he walked up to the purple-wearing emo. “Would you like to tell me where you’re ticklish? Or would you rather let me figure it out?” Picani asked. “Or, perhaps you could give me a spot to start with, and I can go on from there.” Picani suggested.

Virgil looked up at Picani with a smile and started giggling as he pointed to his own ribs. Picani narrowed his eyes and smirked as he understood just what he was telling him.

“Sounds like a plan!” Şüräle declared before jumping into Virgil’s hoodie. Şüräle immediately started skittering around in the sweater, and sniffing all over Virgil’s upper and lower ribs.

“Wha- HEY! NAHAHA! ŞÜRÄHAHAHAHALE!” Virgil laughed helplessly, doing all he can to not squeeze his arms against his chest.

Şüräle popped himself out of Virgil’s shirt collar. “Mr. Picani! Reporting high levels of ticklishness!” Şüräle told him.

“Ooooh! This is gonna be fun!” Picani reacted. Eager to start right away, Picani placed his hands on Virgil’s ribs and started wiggling and drumming the fingers.

“OhohoHOHOHOHOKAHAHAHAHAY! Hohold on-” Virgil instinctively started pushing away the eager fingers. He seemed really nervous about letting people know about his ticklish weakness.

“Pushing me away, huh? I guess I’m gonna have to...GOFORTHESTOMACH!” Picani declared before shoving a hand under the sweater and tickling his belly.

“HAHAHAHAHA! KNOHOHOHOCK IHIHIT OHOHOHOF! IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHEHES!” Virgil laughed.

Picani giggled and started squeezing his belly more. “Look at how squish-squish-squishy your belly is! Such a chub-a-chubby belly!” Picani teased.

“NOHOHOHO IHIHIT’S NOHOHOHOHOHOT!” Virgil protested.

“But it IS! Such a lovely little belly for an emo like you!” Picani teased while he continued to squeeze it.

“Is it really that squishy?” Şüräle asked.

“Yes! It really is!” Picani told him, pausing his tickling. Şüräle gasped excitedly and shoved itself under Virgil’s shirt. With curiosity and mischief, Şüräle started squishing Virgil’s belly with its front paws, and started tickling his belly with its mouse tail.

“Hahahahaha! Yohohohour tahahail ihis soho sohohohoft!” Virgil told the mouse.

Şüräle popped out from under the bottom of the shirt and beamed. “Thank you!” Şüräle replied.

“Nohoho prohohoblehehem.” Virgil replied.

Şüräle crawled itself back under the shirt and climbed itself up Virgil’s body. It was about to pop out and snuggle into Virgil’s neck, but it stopped in its tracks when it started smelling something...pretty! It smelled nice, actually!

“Hey Virgil! Your armpit smells nice! What’s in it?” Şüräle asked as he shoved its nose into Virgil’s armpit.

“eeeEEEK! ŞÜHUHRÄHAHALE, NOHOHOHOHO!” Virgil laughed.

“Oooh! You want some help there, buddy?” Picani asked.

Şüräle removed his nose from the armpit. “Yes please!” Şüräle replied.

“Okay. Which arm are you under?” Picani asked.

“This one!” Şüräle replied while poking the sweater with its nose. Picani noticed the poking fabric, and lightly grabbed onto Virgil’s arm.

“If you were ever uncomfortable with the thought of being pinned, just let me know.” Picani told him. Then, Picani gently lifted the hand above Virgil’s head and lifted the other arm as well. With both hands pinned, both armpits were now vulnerable and ready for tickling.

“Thank you!” Şüräle said happily before sniffing and moving its nose around the armpit.

Virgil bursted into helpless giggles almost immediately and started tugging on his left hand. It was his left armpit that was being tickled by Şüräle’s nose right now, and he wasn’t able to stop it no matter how much he tried to. Picani was too strong. And yet...he didn’t have the heart to tell Picani to let him go. He liked this. It made him feel all giggly inside and made him want to curl up at the same time. It was a strange mix of feelings that he struggled to fight with.

“You feeling okay, Virgil?” Picani asked.

Virgil nodded in reply. He had a huge smile on his face that couldn’t be hidden, no matter how much he squirmed.

“That’s good. How would you feel if I tickled your other armpit?” Picani asked, as he slowly brought his left hand over to Virgil’s right side. Virgil squealed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Do you want me to tickle your other armpit? Or is that too much?” Picani asked.

Virgil looked at the lingering fingers above his right armpit and looked at Picani with a pleading facial expression. That seemed to tell him everything!

“Alrighty then!” Picani touched his fingers down onto Virgil’s right armpit and immediately started scratching and skittering his fingers in the hollow part.

Virgil let out a HUGE squeal and fell into loud, squeaky laughter! It was so cute to listen to! Who knew such an awkward and quiet emo would be hiding such a cute laugh?!

Finally after what felt like hours, Picani stopped tickling him. “Alright. I think you deserve a big break.” Picani told him.

Virgil was still giggling and kicking, and even shaking his head back and forth a little. It was like he was still being tickled.

Hmm...Maybe he was?

“Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle! Such a cute little guy! I like you a lot! You’re so fun!” Şüräle’s voice spoke.

...So he IS being tickled still!

“Şüräle? Buddy? I said for us to stop. He needs a break.” Picani told him.

“Awww...But I didn’t get very long with him!” Şüräle whined.

Picani gave Virgil a guilt-filled ‘sorry’ expression. When Virgil signalled for him to get his mouse, Picani reached under Virgil’s shirt and pulled him out from underneath. “You sir, got more ticklish Virgil time than I did! So don’t start complaining.” Picani warned.

Şüräle frowned and pouted in the doctor’s hand. Virgil, finding it kinda cute, let out a giggle at the pouty stuffed mouse.

“Hey...don’t be giving me the whiny pouts, buddy.” Picani warned before curling his finger in an evil, threatening manner. Şüräle looked up, and immediately dropped his pouty face in surprise and slight eagerness.

Picani started tickling Şüräle’s belly with a couple of his fingers. “Kitchy kitchy kitchy kitchy koo!” Picani teased.

Şüräle let out a squeal and started laughing. The mouse’s laughter was super high-pitched and squeaky, making the mouse even MORE adorable!

Not even a second later, Picani laid Şüräle onto the bed beside Virgil and started tickling both their stomachs at the same time! Both of them were giggling, laughing, squeaking and even snorting!

Picani quickly figured out that Virgil has a snort when tickled long enough! And even though Picani already knew this, Virgil learned something adorable about Şüräle:

Şüräle will fall into fits of just squeaking when tickled a lot! It was like Şüräle was a real, living mouse! Only...its body was stuffed with cotton.

Soon enough, Picani let up on both of the adorable beings.

“Alright. I have to go talk to Patty the Secretary out in the waiting room. You guys can bond for a while. Okay?” Picani rold them.

Virgil nodded and happily took the time to get to know Şüräle. Through talking to the mouse, Virgil learned that Picani’s father actually get him the mouse when he was younger! Not only that, but Şüräle had taken on Picani’s childhood personality, including his childhood love for tickling! So through getting to know Şüräle, Virgil was getting to know Picani as a kid!

And of course, no bonding experience could ever be finished without a cuddle or a tickle. And for Virgil, he was gifted both. 

#ticklefic #virgil sanders is a sweetheart #virgil sanders goes to specialized therapy #switch!virgil #switch!şüräle #ler!picani

[holylulusworld]

The queen of Lebanon - Part 5 – The day I killed what you love

Summary: Your father died years ago, all men in the business believed you are too weak to take over his Empire – they were wrong. Anyone trying to get into your hair will feel your wrath. What happens when a cocky mobster tries not only to steal your empire but your heart too?

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Mobster!Reader, Cole Trenton, Dick Roman, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, ‘the family business’, love-hate relationship, age gap (reader is 28; Dean 32), tension, flirty/cocky Dean, mentions of characters death, language, a burial, sadness, threats

The queen of Lebanon Masterlist

Now…

Shrieking you hear the shotgun hit the door of the wardrobe again, destroying it completely. You can’t see Dick any longer, as he destroyed one of the cameras, but you can hear him over the hidden loudspeakers.

He’s yelling orders, telling his men to get a grenade launcher or something similar to get the door open. You can hear the coldness in his voice and start to shiver.

“Shit, Y/N. Do you think that door will withstand an impact like that?” Dean glances at the other monitors, clenching his jaw as he must watch Dick’s men destroy your house. “I’m going to rip them apart…your house.”

“Winchester, shut up and let me think, okay.” Taking deep breaths you look around the room, trying to remember what your father told you about the ‘panic room’.

“I got it. In the right closet are guns, bulletproof vests, and ammunition. Get the bag under the bed and put the ammo in. We will need to be prepared for the worst.”

Dean smirks, loving the way you order him around while you are in a life-threatening situation.

“Sweetheart, you can order me around anytime, but for now…let me take the lead. That man is a monster and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

Glaring at Dean you fist his jacket, bringing him close to your face. “I’m not a child, nor a damsel in distress, Dean. I killed people before, and I’ll do it till my last breath. I don’t need your macho attitude right now. Be useful and do as I say while I try to reach my men…”

Another impact hits the door, this time with a loud bang and you flinch, fisting Dean’s jacket harder.

“We better hurry, Y/N. I hate to say it, but those assholes might be able to get in here.”

“Then I’ll go down in a blaze of glory, Dean.” Smirking Dean nods, pecking your lips and you freeze before you press your lips to his. “If we make it out here, I’ll fuck the life out of you for one night…”

“Damn…” Dean rushes toward the wardrobe, checking on the guns and vests while you try to find a functional phone in the room. “I will remind you of what you said. You, me and my bedroom the whole night.”

“Yeah, dream on Winchester. I bet you can’t even give me a good time, cocky bastard…”

“I…” Flinching Dean hears another impact hit the concrete wall and your eyes widen as the pictures fall off the walls. “We better hurry and get into those vests. I want you to stay behind me when they come in…”

“Dean, I’m capable of…” Dean presses his palm to your mouth, pushing you against the wall as his features darken.

“Listen and listen carefully, Sweetheart. I’m in this business since I’m fourteen years old. I killed the first man at the age of sixteen thanks to my obsessed father. I know how to kill, and how to survive. For once in our relationship, do as I say…please…” 

Searching Dean’s face, you nod, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t promise you we will get out of here alive, but I promise to protect you…”

“Dean…I’m scared…” Whimpering you hear something heavy hit the door and you fist Dean’s jacket. “If they get hold of us…”

“They won’t, Y/N. I die before I will allow them to touch you…”

---- 

Six years ago, one day till the burial…

“Y/N, I can’t apologize enough for not coming here sooner. I just heard about my good friends, your father’s death and want to offer my help.” Crowley offers his hand and you reluctantly shake it.

“Mr. Macleod, it’s an honor to finally met the man behind the name…” Giving the man you assume to be your parent’s murderer a fake smile you point toward a chair. “Please, have a seat.”

“I will be completely honest with you; I think you will appreciate it. I didn’t kill your parents, Y/N. While I had some trouble with your father lately, even tho we were, as I would call it, friends, I didn’t have a reason to kill him. To be honest…without your father in town, the business will go downhill for a while.”

Crowley’s words make your gaps. Never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined he would tell you so.

“And I shall believe you?” Voice trembling you shove the folder with the pictures of your dead parents toward Crowley, and he hisses at the sight of Jody.

“I know you do not have a reason to believe me, girl but I can tell, I liked Jody…a lot.” Smirking Crowley looks at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“We had a date, but your daddy was faster and stole her heart. That was the moment we became friends, as I forced him to promise me to take good care of Jody.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in mom…” Gripping the leans of your chair tightly you search Crowley’s face. “I still don’t have a proof it wasn’t you…”

“You’ve got a point there, Y/N. I was out of town, business two states away, still, I could’ve sent someone to do it.” Pointing at the pictures of Jody he shakes his head.

“Even if I wanted your father dead, I would’ve never laid hand on Jody. Whoever did this, wanted to send a message to me and everyone else. There is a codex among us mobsters in Lebanon and surroundings…”

“Codex?” Crowley’s words catch your attention, so you lean forward to listen to his explanation.

“Since your mothers and John Winchester’s wife’s death, we all agreed to keep our families out of business, except they are part of the business. Jody was never involved. No one in town would’ve dared to touch her.” Wide-eyed you look at Crowley, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What do you mean with my mother’s death? This was an accident, right?” Shaking his head Crowley sighs heavily at the memory of Bobby asking him to avenge his dead family.

“Your father, he had problems with someone back then and for sure your mothers’ death wasn’t an accident. It was on purpose to make sure your father gives in.” Your throat tightens and you start to pant heavily.

“Let me get this straight… Someone killed my mother and Michael? All those years…” Sniffling you throw the picture of your father against the wall. “He lied to me. How could he lie to me?”

“Y/N, please calm. Bobby did what he believed was the best to protect you. Jody helped him back then, that was when he fell in love with her. I know for sure your father avenged your mother’s death.” 

Glancing up at you Crowley gives you a file he hid since your mother’s death. “In this file, you will find the name of your mothers’ murderer. Please be aware, the death is avenged, so don’t do anything stupid now.”

With shaking fingers, you look at the pictures, the files and then you read the name of your family's murderer and your blood runs cold.

“John Winchester…?”

“As I said, Y/N. Bobby avenged your mother’s death. He was the one killing Mary and John’s bastard son, Adam. He took a wife for a wife and a son for a son…”

Crowley gets up to hand you his number. “Call me anytime you need help, Y/N. I know this is all too much right now, but don’t kill John Winchester. He paid for his sins…”

Turning to leave Crowley reaches for the door handle as he hears you calling his name.

“Crowley…”

“Yes, my dear? Anything else you need to know?”

“Why did he kill Adam, not Dean?” Blinking a few times Crowley smirks. 

“It hit John harder as he kept him out of business, you know. He dragged Dean and Sam into business but Adam, he was his good boy, the one he took to baseball games and stuff…” 

“You mean he wanted a normal life with that son and used his others to run the business. A-parenting for sure.” Laughing you glance at the number in your hands. “One day, I’ll kill John Winchester…”

“I know, my dear. Give me a call if you ever need help…”

“I will…and thank you…”

----

Now…

“If we die, you should know I killed your father.” Blurring out the truth you feel Dean press you against the wall a moment later. He doesn’t do anything, just looks you in the eyes before he smirks. 

“I know, Sweetheart. Did you believe I didn’t know it was you, Baby? I loved my father, selfish bastard or not, he was my blood.”

“I know that feeling…”

“But…” Panting against you, Dean presses his body against yours as another impact hits the wall with a loud thud and you hide your face into his neck. “I know he killed Michael and your mom, Y/N. I found everything out…”

“You never said a word…”

“No one knows except for me and Sammy. This is a secret we will take to the grave. Anything else you want to confess before Dick comes in here?” Laughing you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck. 

“I thought the biggest dick is in here with me…”

“You’ve got no clue how big my dick is but for now let’s focus on killing those assholes and getting out of here alive. I got to show you a thing or two tonight…”

A cocky grin plastered all over his face Dean pecks your cheek, pointing toward the monitor. “I guess times up. They got a grenade launcher…”

“Son of a bitch, Dick! Who shall clean my house after that?” Cursing you grab one of the bulletproof vests, a shirt, and pants. “We need to kill those bastards for making my house look like a battlefield, Winchester.”

“I’ll do anything to fuck you later…” Smirking Dean grabs a vest too, glancing at the monitor as Dick walks around your office, tossing papers and the pictures of your family to the floor. “Asshole…”

“Finally you admit you are an ass…” Chuckling you grab a handgun, a knife and one of the shotguns. “Loaded and unlocked, Dean…” Dean leans closer, to cup your face with one large palm before he presses his lips to yours.

“I always loved you, Y/N. If we die, we do this together…”

“Great motivation speech, Winchester. Now I’m drier than a desert.” Wiggling your eyebrows, you flinch as the first grenade hits the door, making the metal creaking. “I’m afraid the door won’t withstand much longer…”

----

Six years ago, the day of the burial…

“Please tell me if you need anything…” Coles offers his arm and you take it silently. Holding tight onto your adopted brother, your closest friend you walk toward the coffin, not missing the way Dean looks you all over.

There’s anger pumping through your veins as John Winchester dared to attend the burial too. 

“One day…Winchester…”

“Y/N, not here, not now. We need to make sure we do this when no one expects us to strike. Now take your time and mourn your loss.”

Cole leads you toward the coffin of your father and you take a deep breath before you look at your father one last time.

“Whoever did this, they won’t get away with this. If it was John Winchester, he will suffer even more.” Your voice is hoarse, but you keep your tears at bay. No one will see you week today or any other day. “I’ll take over your business, daddy…”

Kissing your father’s forehead, you hide two pictures in his hands. One with your family before the accident, the other with Jody, the last you took of all of you.

“Goodbye, daddy. I’ll make sure everyone knows my name soon…”

While Cole leads you toward Jody’s coffin other people walk toward your father to say goodbye.

Sucking in a breath you must watch John Winchester stand right next to you, offering his hand and you need all your strength to not take your gun out and shoot him.

“My condolences, Y/N. Please tell me if you ever need anything.” John rumbles and you want to laugh at his words.

“That’s generous, Mr. Winchester but I don’t think I’ll need your help, like ever.” Eyes cold, just like your voice you do not show any emotion. “I think our families never were on good terms, never…”

Turning to leave you meet Dean’s eyes and he gives you a cracked smile as he feels his father’s eyes darken. 

“Y/N…” Dean tries to talk to you, but you pass him by without paying attention to him. “Please…”

“Son…” John warns, and Dean falls silent. Even after John gave up his position as the head of the family Dean feels like he must follow his father’s orders. “Leave her be for now.”

“Yes, Sir.” Snarling the words through gritted teeth Dean glares at his father. “I guess she would’ve been useful to you after all. If you would’ve let me marry her…” Smirking Dean walks toward Bobby. “You could have taken over here fathers' empire…”

----

Now…

The door creaks as you hear the men ram something heavy against it. “Battering ram…” Dean whispers as he aims the shotgun toward the door. “Stay behind me, no matter what.”

“Gosh, Winchester, you can be so demanding.” Placing your hand onto his shoulder you kiss his neck softly. “If we don’t make it out of here, you should know I never had sex with Sammy.”

“You lied?” Cocky a brow Dean smirks as you squeeze his shoulder. “Knew you are not into Sammy’s dick.”

“Is this a dick party or can we stop talking about Dick now?” Laughing Dean raises his fist as the house is suddenly silent. 

“What?” Gasping you hear gunshots echo through the house. Glancing at the monitors you smirk. Sam is storming into the house, followed by Jimmy and your men.

“Sammy saves the day, huh?” Dean points at the camera, watching Cole and Gadreel walk behind the others. “Cole is indestructible, I guess…”

“He is, Winchester…” Sniffling you hear Dick yell orders. He’s glancing at one of the cameras, giving you a wink.

“What a pity, Y/N I didn’t have the chance to meet you in person. We will another time, for now, this is goodbye. Oh, did you like my surprise back then? I thought it’s nice if you find your mother first…”

Grinning from ear to ear Dick rushes out of the house, trying to dodge any bullet fired into his direction.

You are frozen to the spot. With shaking fingers your try to secure your gun but Dean needs to help you. He takes the shotgun out of your hands before he wraps his arms around you.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart…”

“I…I killed your father believing it was him killing Jody and dad…”

“I know, for now let’s get the fuck out of here and I’ll bring you to my house…” Dumbfounded you look up at Dean. “Why?”

“You said that you will fuck me the whole night so…that’s that…” Blinking a few times you try to process all information, but your brain has problems recognizing the door gets unlocked and Cole steps in.

“We need to get away from here. Artemis has fallen…” Cole orders and you nod, pointing at Dean. “You sure?”

“He wanted to protect me, Cole. That man, Dick, he killed Jody and my father. Can you get my emergency kit and bring it to Dean’s house? I guess whole Lebanon will burn if we do not stop that dick…”

“Dick?” Laughing Cole looks at Dean who glares at him. “She means Dick Roman, Trenton. Now move and bring her shit to my house. I’ll take care of Y/N. Where have you all been?”

“I was busy with not bleeding out, while Jimmy and Gabriel guard me as ordered. Gadreel and Arthur wanted to get guns and stuff. The others guarded the house and are dead, Winchester…”

----

Following Dean and the others out of your house, the pictures of your parents in your arms you take deep breaths as you can see Gordon and Rufus lie on the ground. A bullet to their head ended their lives.

“We lost five more men, boss. Arthur and Kevin or on their way to Ares.” Cole explains as Dean looks at you, dumbfounded.

“Codewords for my houses, Winchester. I have a thing for Greek mythology, you know. Artemis, Goddess of hunt. Ares, God of war…” Smirking you lean closer so Cole can’t hear your words. “I got a hideout called Aphrodite too…Goddess of Love…”

Walking toward Sam who opens the door to your SUV you take deep breaths to calm your nerves. “Sam, thanks for the rescue, my friend.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Did my brother annoy you or was he civil?”

“We will see that Sammy…we will see…”

----

“So…Ares is your next destination?” Dean’s brings you out of your thoughts, laughing as you rub your tired eyes.

“Yeah. We should talk about Dick and stuff first but then I’ll leave…”

“No, no…Sweetheart…” Bringing you onto his lap Dean smirks. “I will have my night first. You once said that you always keep your words so…you, me and my bed the whole night…”

The queen of Lebanon

@alyssaforever2671, @xcastielbabyangelface, @bitchwhytho, @rosiehayes

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[frenchie-sottises]

More Punch Out Headcannons!

I got a good amount of feedback on the previous one, so I’m extending it a bit further! This set will be about how the boxers treat you as a friend and how you would be able to become friends with them.

Glass Joe: It’s no doubt that giving anyone support will give you a higher chance on becoming their friend. This guy? He cherishes it so much. The dude has a horrible record and wonders why people still attend his matches, but if you’re there and show that he does great despite losing, he’s absolutely going to be your friend.

If you manage to become his friend, he’ll occasionally take you out to lunch. He would see you more as a family member. Heck, be his friend long enough, he’ll try to train you even though he might not stand a chance.

Von Kaiser: Please help him out with the kids. He gets headaches sometimes from dealing with them. You don’t have to know boxing to help him, just keep them occupied and he’s willing to return the favor.

You’ll soon realize he’s more of a father figure. He genuinely cares about you and doesn’t want anything bad happening. It’s not that often that someone comes by and sticks around with him, so he enjoys every moment he has with you. He’s so paranoid of your safety, he’s willing to train you everything he knows and yes, that goes beyond boxing.

Disco Kid: This guy is so easily entertained. He’s more than willing to be your friend if you muster up the courage to try to either dance with him or have a friendly dance battle with him. Don’t worry if you’re not that good, it’s the fact you tried.

This guy knows what it’s like to be a newbie to dancing, so he’s more than happy to show you how. Even if you are, you don’t know what this guy has in store. He’s got so many tricks up his sleeves. If by some chance you’re not into that, he’s completely fine with it! He’s open to your interests and is always willing to try something new.

King Hippo: This guy loves nothing more than food. After his matches, he’s hungry, but it’s never stated that his audience has to bring food. If you manage to give him food, he’s offering to return the favor. Another thing is that he loves meeting someone with patience. As mentioned before, he doesn’t speak like a normal person and he hates that. To meet someone who’s willing to wait for him to get out his words is a miracle to him.

You’ll be one of the special few who get to know more about his island and just how much fun it is! Not many people really come to visit his island, so to have you there is bound to be interesting. Not only that, but Hippo will also take into consideration and attend any events you have. He doesn’t mind inviting you to his, but make sure to invite him!

Piston Hondo: He’s a little more difficult cause he’s more on the silent side, but there’s no doubt that if you draw, it makes bonding so much easier. He loves drawing and loves looking at others’ arts. Even if you aren’t into drawing, anything that comes to learning about his culture is bound to get him interested in knowing more about you.

If you’re someone who draws, this is a good chance to learn some things that might help improve your art. The same goes for him. His style might influence yours and your style might influence his. If you wanted to know more about his culture, he can always explain it to you in the most intriguing way he can pull off. He doesn’t want to see you bored. He’ll show you many scrolls and books on history, and hey, you can even do the same for him.

Bear Hugger: Any little things like cleaning up any trash that other people might have neglected to throw away will get him interested in you. He lives a bit more out in the woods where no one really comes around, so he’s usually left to clean up the messes himself.

If you have an interest in nature, he’s the expert you need. He grew up knowing the wildlife and is basically one with it. He’ll even tell you some things about nature you’d probably never really hear anywhere else. He’s an awesome fellow and he’ll try his best to make you laugh. He’s also very open about his interests and is willing to show you how to play hockey.

Great Tiger: He has a passion for cats. He often takes care of any found near his home. If he catches you also taking care of them, he’s willing to strike up a conversation.

He’s a very interesting friend to have and that’s mainly because he has magic. He often tinkers with it and is always wondering if you want to see some of his tricks. They can either go right... or go very, very wrong. One minute, you can be holding your phone and as soon as he does a trick, your phone could be something completely left field like a pineapple.

Don Flamenco: Goodness gracious, this boy seriously needs someone who can deal with his ego. Not many people can deal with his arrogance, so to be able to see past it and basically accept for who he is would be pretty much the next best thing since Carmen.

Although he won’t treat you on the same level as his love, you still get gifts from time to time. He likes having you around, he doesn’t like that not many people can deal with him like you can. Heck, if you want, it’s a good chance to help him improve on why he has issues of keeping close friends. He’ll thank you so much if you do, even if you think you’d suck at it.

Aran Ryan: Since most of his audience thinks he’s crazy, they often talk behind his back. There’s a few people who still don’t understand that they shouldn’t talk bad about his sister. You would know that it’s wrong and you would say something about it, then sooner or later, he would hear about it and actually thank you for it.

Having him as a friend is as almost as interesting as Great Tiger. He’s crazy in the ring, but the same can’t be said outside it. What one thing’s for sure is that he has your back. He treats Soda like he treats his sister and that means he’s not gonna let someone blabber anything negative about them when he’s around. He’ll defend you even if you know how to defend yourself. He acts much like an older brother to you.

Soda Popinski: Get this guy a drink, he’s forever grateful if you do. Most people don’t really approach him cause he’s so tall and intimidating, but since it doesn’t bother you, he’s definitely gonna think you’re something special.

He’s more of a gentle giant around you. He gives the greatest support and is willing to be your shoulder to cry on. He’s not the best at giving advice, but bless his heart, he’s gonna try.

Bald Bull: It’s been previously mentioned that if you get this guy Turkish delights, he’s automatically your friend. He actually prefers homemade over factory.

If you value your peace from the outside world, he is your guardian. He knows what it’s like to not have it and he will gladly fight off the paparazzi just for you. He is so freaking sweet that it baffles you that this is the same guy who smashed his own head against the pole before his matches. He’s very supportive and open to other’s opinions.

Super Macho Man: You’d be one of the few to send gifts to him. You’d have to really go out there with this guy cause he pretty much knows everyone. If you’re lucky enough, he’s willing to strike up a conversation with you.

He also acts much like an older brother to you. He’s always on the lookout for you. If the paparazzi gets too much, he knows just how to get them to shoo. He’s always inviting you to parties and is willing to pay for your food and drinks. He’s also willing to teach you how to be cool, and trust him, you won’t regret it.

Mr. Sandman: He doesn’t interact much, but if you strike any of his interests, that’s the key to get him to come out of his shell. It may be also the fact that you’re not seemingly tired of him.

Okay, you need to think about this, you have a World Champion as your best friend. That is both awesome and terrifying. You’re pretty much guaranteed to never be messed with by anyone. If anyone tries, then Lord help these people. Despite his title, he’s a pretty cool person to have as a friend. He’s supportive and as any good friend, he’s not gonna let you make stupid decisions. If it’s anything that hurts yourself, it’s not gonna fly or so help him.

I loved doing this, hopefully I can get more in!

#Punch Out!! #Punch Out #Glass Joe #Von Kaiser #Disco Kid #King Hippo #Piston Hondo #Bear Hugger #Great Tiger #Don Flamenco #Aran Ryan #Soda Popinski #Bald Bull #Super Macho Man #Mr. Sandman #Headcannons

[sherrybaby14]

Stark’s Secret Santa

This is for @lovelynemesis  ‘s Rocking Around the Christmas Tree Challenge

My Prompt: “I was your secret Santa, but I gave you outdated chocolate by accident.”

Relationship: Tony X Reader

Warnings:  Fluffy smut.  (I wanted to write fluff, and if you can’t write fluff for Christmas, when can ya?) 

Summary:  You’re casually dating Tony and he brings you to the Avenger’s private Christmas party, complete with a Secret Santa

A/N:  This is a fluffy little Christmas story with some smut thrown in at the end.  Not what I normally write! 

Tags @thecynicalnerd @marauderice @mac5323 @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @negan--is--god @kellyn1604 @roschelesworld @taintedgenre @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @purplemuse89 @blondesouthsquad @buckyscrystalqueen @kawaiirepublic @captainemwinchester @xbergiex @bellaballanda @theariel85

                The elevator rose and you fiddled with the present in your hand.  There was no reason to be so nervous, but something about tonight felt different. You’d attended several parties as Tony’s arm candy, this one shouldn’t be any different, but when he invited you and mentioned there was a secret Santa it made the entire affair more intimate, something you didn’t expect from your pseudo-boyfriend.  

                You glanced at the present and hoped Bruce enjoyed the wooden slide box you had picked out for him.  It was perfect for a scientist who took his work home with him, something you knew Bruce did on the regular.  The twenty-dollar limit made picking a gift difficult, but you were confident it was the right amount of thought.

                The door dinged and you smoothed down your silver cocktail dress before placing the calmest, natural smile you could muster on your face.  

                “There she is.” Tony walked towards you with open arms.  

                You went out to greet him, placing a light peck on his lips.

                “Let me take your coat.” He grabbed Bruce’s gift first.

                The two of you met last New Year’s Eve, it was hard to think a year had passed.  You enjoyed his company but never for a second let yourself forget who he was: Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire.  You never expected the relationship to go anywhere and did not pretend you were exclusive.  Sure, you hadn’t dated anyone else over the last twelve months, but you told yourself it was because you were busy with work, not because of some fake loyalty to Tony who probably kept a warm bed every weekend you were busy.  

                “The place is decorated beautifully.”  There were gold stars hanging from the ceiling and a giant Christmas tree in the center of the room.

                “Can I get you a drink?”  Tony handed your coat off to one of the workers and offered you his arm. “Vodka?  Champagne?”

                “Is that the new thing?” You grinned at him. “Vodka with a splash of champagne?”

                Tony laughed and wiped his face, shaking his head.

                “Are you nervous?” You raised an eyebrow.

                “What? Me?” Tony chuckled too loud. “Why would I be nervous?  I’m hosting one of the smallest parties of my life, no paparazzi, no press, just good old fashioned Christmas fun with the people I care about the most.  Why would I be nervous?”  

                You ran your eyes over his face before giving him a smirk and nodding.  

                “Y/N!”  Nat came over and gave you a hug.  

                You dropped Tony’s arm to hug your friend back, but he continued walking towards the bar.

                “That dress is fantastic.”  She pulled back and looked at your outfit.

                “Thank you.”  You looked her up and down and gave a thumbs up. “Merry Christmas!”

                “Right back at ya.” She gave a wink.

                A bang made you both turn your heads towards the bar where Tony knocked over a bottle of champagne.  The bartender for hire was rushing to wipe it up, while Tony tried to straighten the glasses.

                “He acting strange to you?” If anything his antics were calming your nerves, but it was strange to see your perfectly polished Tony behaving this way.

                “I think Tony’s always acting strange.” Nat took a drink. “But when he invited me to a party with a guest list of ten I thought he was acting certifiable.”

                Before you could comment on it further the elevator dinged.  You both looked away from the bar to see Bruce, Steve, and Bucky exit the elevator. You smiled when you noticed Steve holding hands with a cute woman, at least you weren’t going to be the only non-Avenger tonight.  

~~~    

                 It wasn’t the first time you had to fight down these feelings, but tonight Tony was making it extra hard.  The group was conversing, but Tony stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist constantly placing small kisses on the back of your head.   Having him be so affectionate in front of his closest friends was allowing you to think the impossible, that this relationship was more.  

                “Mr. Stark.”  You turned around to face him and through your arms around his shoulders. “What might I ask has you so cuddly this evening?”  

                He grinned at you and placed a soft kiss on your lips.  You went to pull away, but he deepened the kiss.  

                “Get a room you two!” You were pretty sure the voice belonged to Sam, but Tony held you too close to let you break away.  

                Finally, he pulled back, biting your lip in the process. His eyes were starting to get the hazy lustful look that made you weak in the knees, but he blinked a few times and broke eye contact.  

                “Where’s your sense of tradition Wilson?” Tony pointed upwards.

                You looked to see mistletoe right above your heads and let out a giggle. Tony dropped his arm from around your waist and dragged his fingers across your back until the intertwined with your own.  Mistletoe or not this level of affection was not expecting.

                “How about we open some presents?” Tony pointed towards the tree.  

                Underneath were the wrapped gifts each party member had brought.  They ranged in size and you wondered who got the giant box.  Part of you feared you hadn’t spent enough on your gift, but a glance around the room and the smiles on display warmed your heart.  This wasn’t a group who cared about the price tag.  

                “Come on.” Tony waved everyone over.

                He picked a remote up and hit a few buttons. Black couches rose out from the floor and a fireplace roared to life behind the tree.  

                “Damn Stark.”  Clint jumped on one of the couches and brought his hands behind his head. “Is that a fire hazard?”

                “What you worried it’s going to burn your nest down?” Tony smacked Clint’s legs and he moved to a seated position on the couch.

                Tony sat first and pulled you down, putting his arm around your shoulders in the process. You twisted your head to look at his hand, affectionate indeed.

                “Alright.”  Nat took a seat under the tree and picked up a gift bag. “First up is Buck.”  

                The present was passed over to the former enemy.  He looked at the gift tag first.

                “It doesn’t say who it’s from.” He looked around the room.

               “That’s the game.” Tony shrugged his shoulder. “You open it and guess who it’s from.”  

                “The last gift won’t have much of a game.” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

                “It’s not a flawless system.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Just open the bag and make a guess.”  

                The macho soldier pulled out the tissue paper and pulled out a collection of bath bombs.  He had a confused look on his face, but he dove back in and produced a giant bottle of aromatherapy bubble bath.  

                “For stress relief.” He read the label.  “Does someone here think I need to relax?”

                Everyone laughed.  Bucky wasted no time pointing to Nat, but then shook his head and whipped his hand over towards Sam.  

                “You’re the most uptight man I know buddy.” Sam smiled. “It was bubble bath or a prostitute, and the twenty-dollar limit crushed that idea.”

                Bucky cracked up louder than anyone else.   When he was done laughing he stood up and hugged Sam.  The two patted each other on the back and you chuckled at the masculine hug.  

                “Alright Steve.” Nat handed him a gift. “I guess you’re up next.”

                Watching the gifts be opened was more fun than you expected.  They ranged from funny to heartfelt, but every single one of them carried a touch of love.  There was no skimping on thought or personalization.  

                When Bruce opened your gift his eyes went wide. He ran his fingers over the wood carving and nodded his head.  

                “The only two left are Y/N and Tony.”  His eyes locked with yours. “And this is way too nice to be from Tony.  Y/N?”

                “Guilty.” You raised your hands.  

                “Oooooo!” The room clapped at the diss.  

                Bruce stood up and you did the same, meeting him to get the hug.  

                “That means the last gift is for Y/N.”  You sat down on the couch as Nat handed you a gift bag.

                “And that it’s from Tony.” Steve pointed to your beau.  “Is it fair to pull your girlfriend?  I mean, you got her something else too right?”

                You blushed at the word girlfriend.  You didn’t realize that is what Tony called you, never wanting to push your relationship status with him.  You half expected the billionaire to correct his friend, but Tony gave a shrug.  Tonight you did feel like Tony’s girlfriend.  

                You thought about the last year.  All the fun the two of you had together.  You did spend almost every weekend at his place, he’d taken you on several trips.  He kept you cracking up most of the time.  Maybe this was more of a relationship than you wanted to let yourself believe.  Maybe Tony wasn’t sharing his bed with other women, maybe you could let yourself be open to the idea of more.

                “Well you going to open in Y/N?” Clint looked up from the box of personalized quills, no doubt he was eager to get to some arrows.

                “Sorry.”  You pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and reached inside.  

                It was definitely wrapped by Tony, which meant not wrapped at all, but you would take that over him paying someone.   You pulled the gift out of the bag and found yourself staring at a giant heart.  

                “Chocolates?” You glanced over at him.  

               “Is it Christmas or Valentine’s day?” Sam snickered.

               “Don’t be silly.” You gave him a look at turned the heart over. “Tony know what a sweet tooth I have.”

                You were going to peel off the cellophane surrounding the heart shaped box when you noticed a sticker on the back.

                “These expired in July.”  You looked up at Tony. “Old Valentine’s Day candy?”  

                The bubble of feelings you were allowing to develop exploded in your chest.  You glanced at the personalized ornament in Nat’s lap, the concert tickets Steve gripped to the 1940s cover band, the embroidered handkerchiefs next to Tony.  Even Bruce found out Steve’s new lady’s favorite sports team and gotten her some fan gear.  

                Tony, the man you spent a year with, the man you promised to not fall in love with, the man you swore was just a fling, couldn’t be bothered to send one of his many assistants to the store to pick something out for you.  

                Nobody in the room was laughing, and you started to feel like you were the butt of the joke.  

                “Damn Tony, you could’ve just gotten her a lump of coal.”  Clint tried to make the joke to lighten the mood, but was met with a slap on the shoulder by Nat.  

                Your face grew warm with embarrassment and you looked down at the chocolates, needing to plaster on a smile.  You would not cry at a Christmas party over a secret Santa gift.  

                “It was an accident.” Tony reached out and touched your leg.  

                “An accident?” You lifted your head and looked at him, but you didn’t want to listen, Tony had a silver tongue and could talk his way out of anything.  

                “It’s getting late.” Steve started to stand up. “We should hit the road.”

                “We met last New Year’s eve Y/N.” Tony climbed off the couch and bent down in front of you. “Valentine’s Day was out first holiday together?”

                “If you’re going to tell me this is a tribute to that you can save it.” You wanted the man to stop talking.  You dropped the chocolate in your lap and crossed your arms. “It’s a fine gift Tony, really.  I think you’re making your guests uncomfortable.”

                “They don’t matter.” Tony flicked his wrist and then grabbed the heart.  “It’s true, I bought this for you then.”        

                He started tearing the cellophane.  

                “But I was too scared to give it to you. Thought it was cheesy.  Next came Saint Patrick’s Day, I thought about dying it green, or switching to a six-pack of beer, but that didn’t seem right either.” He ripped all the casing off and started pulling off the lid. “Then fourth of July is so hot and chocolate melts so that was out of the question.”  

                “Tony.  It’s fine really.” You pressed your lips together, wanting the attention off of you. “I get it, you held on to a gift since February.  That makes it cute and special.”  

                “Of course Halloween was the next logical step, but you went on and on about how much you love snickers I didn’t want to toss in random chocolates and spoil your fun.”  The lid hit the ground.  The chocolates started to have white dusting form on the edge, a sure sign of expiration. Tony reached for the middle one and pulled it out.  

                “Please don’t eat that.”  You had visions of Tony puking all over his Christmas tree.

                “I could have done thanksgiving, but the turkey is so slippery and I would’ve ruined the box of chocolates, and with Christmas around the corner I thought I would make it more special.”  Tony broke the small chocolate apart.  

                You let out a gasp and pulled your hands to your mouth, now not positive you weren’t going to be the one throwing up all over the tree.  

                “Y/N.  I ordered this is January, two weeks after I met you.  I’ve been holding on to it since February.”  You noticed Tony wasn’t crouch in front of you as he tossed the rest of the chocolate on the floor, he was on one knee.  “I made sure all these people were here, because I didn’t want to get scared again.  I wanted to make sure I asked the question.  Y/N.  Will you marry me?”

                The ring was perfect, everything you ever imagined and more.  Your hands shook as you dropped them from your mouth.  This had to be a dream.  You started to pinch your thigh.  

                “I promise you’re awake baby.”  Tony took your hand.  “Be my wife?”

                “Are you sure?” You never thought this day would come, so certain that you were a passing fad for him. “Me?”

                “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Tony’s face softened.

                You started to nod your head furiously. Tony slid the ring onto your finger and you flung yourself onto the carpet next to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his.  

                “Yeah!” Steve was the first to yell as the whole group started to clap.  

                “I don’t see any mistletoe this time.” Sam’s voice sounded like it was in another room.

                Both you and Tony ignored them and continued kissing.  You slid your arms to his shoulders and gripped the fabric of his shirt, needing to hold onto something to tell you this was real.  

                “I don’t think that ring is under the twenty-dollar limit.”   Nat gave a nervous laugh.  

                You didn’t want to break the kiss, but she gave you a sense of reason and you turned your head away from Tony.  

                “I think it’s about time we all called it a night.”  Bruce stood up first. “Thank you for the gift and the lovely time.”  

                Tony stood up first and you took his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder as you stood next to the Christmas tree.  

                “You two have a Merry Christmas.”  Everyone said their goodbyes and you felt like you were moving on air.  

                By the time it was just the two of you Tony was guiding you back towards the couches.  

                “Are you alright Y/N?”  He pulled your hand to his mouth.  

                “I’m shocked.” You looked at him. “I didn’t think you were serious about me.”  

                “I love you Y/N.”  He sat down and you followed suit.

                “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”  You glanced down at the ring.  “Didn’t you do this out of order?”

                “Actions speak louder than words.”  Tony tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “I am going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”  

                He cupped your cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. You grabbed his wrist as his lips pressed against yours.  His tongue slid into your mouth with a passion only Tony could achieve.  You let out a moan as he moved forward, laying you backwards on the couch.  

                “I want a lifetime of hearing you make those noises.” His hand went down your thigh and stopped at your knee, he pulled your legs up on the couch so you were lying on your back, with him between them.  “Starting tonight.”  

                Tony locked eyes with you as he kissed down the top of your dress.  He had that lustful look that drove you crazy and another moan escaped as he came to your waist.   He pulled off of you and slid his hands under your dress.  Tony’s tongue ran over his lips as he gripped onto the top of your panties and pulled them down with ease.  

                He kept his eyes on you as he dove forward, his mouth wrapping around your clit.  You fisted the leather couch as his tongue started working your sensitive bud.  

                “Y/N you taste better than a Christmas cookie.” Tony lightly blew on your nub making you squeal. “But those noises will be the death of me.”  

                His head dove back between your legs and he started sucking.  You cried out and arched your back.  Tony’s hands slid down your thighs and one moved underneath you.   You felt his finger poking at your entrance and brought your hand to your mouth, biting down to stifle noises.  

                “None of that.” Tony yanked your hand away. “I want to hear them all.”  

                He dipped his hand back down as his finger drove inside of you.  A gasp and a moan escaped your lips as he started to work you, sucking and sliding, touching all of your most sensual parts.  You started rocking your body against his mouth, moving your hips in waves as he continued to go down on you.  

                Soon your noises were becoming uncontrollable and you didn’t bother to hold back.  Tony curled his finger and your body shook beneath his touch as pleasure exploded throughout your body.  

                “That’s the only Christmas gift I need.”  Tony lifted his head.  

                You reached down and ran your hands over his hair as your breathing steadied enough to form words.  Tony stood up over you and started unbuttoning his shirt.  He looked down at you, his eyes completely glazed over with lust.  

                “You’re beautiful Y/N.”  He tossed this shirt on the ground and started taking off his shoes. “I can’t wait to call you Mrs. Stark.”  

                The term set a flash of happiness to your heart and you felt another wave of excitement rush through you.  Tony continued to strip when you jumped up from the couch with a new wave of energy.   Your mouth pressed against his as you peeling off the silver dress, letting it pool at your feet.  Your hands went to Tony’s belt and you help him shove down his pants and underwear.  

                With your hands on his shoulders you pushed him down to the floor in front of the fire.   His tongue was dancing with yours as you straddled him on the carpet.  You reached down with one hand and grabbed the base of his cock, then started slowly lowering yourself down.  

                Now it was Tony’s turn to let out a moan and you bit your lip in appreciation as you took more of his powerful cock inside your pussy. Tony’s mouth moved to your shoulder and he started kissing as his hands found your bra clasp.  Soon the garment was on the floor as well and the both of you were totally naked.

                Tony’s hands went in between you and he started kneading your breasts.  The way his fingers lightly touched your peaks made you moan and slid further down his shaft. It didn’t take long until you were all the way down, feeling full with his cock.

                You started thrusting your hips back and forth, not caring that this position was probably providing more pleasure for you than him.  You whimpered as his cock continued to make contact with your G-spot every time you moved forward.  

                Tony dropped his head to your chest and his tongue joined his hands in teasing your nipples into hard pearls. There was no holding back your moans as you brought yourself to climax again, this time collapsing onto Tony’s cock as you came.  

                He responded by grunting and wrapping an arm around you, flipping you over to your back without pulling out of you.  Then his cock started moving in and out of you, the juices from your climax giving Tony more than enough lubrication to move at as fast a speed as he wanted.  

                Your toes curled as his pumps prolonged your orgasm, sure you were becoming a mewling mess underneath him.  

                “Y/N I love you.”  Tony’s head was right by your ear. “I’m going to love you forever.”  

                With one final thrust he pushed his cock deep inside and joined you in ecstasy.  You felt his white cream coat your insides, causing you to twitch even more.  Both of you were breathing heavily as Tony started to soften, but not pull out.  

                All of the things you never allowed yourself to plan for started seeping in your brain as Tony lay on top of you.  Your hand lazily rubbed his back as you imagined a future, a house in the countryside, a dog, and children.  

                Tony lifted his head as he rolled over and exited your body, pulling you against his chest in the process as you lay by the fire.

                “How about next week?” You didn’t look up.

                “Our New Year’s plans?” Tony asked. “I thought you wanted to go to the same party we met at.  The Mayor’s ball?”

                “I changed my mind.” Your fingers started to trace Tony’s chest. “I want the exact same people here as tonight and I want to get married.  One week from now, on our anniversary.”

                “I guess we have a busy week ahead of us then.” Tony pulled you closer and kissed your head. “Then I’ll be able to call you Mrs. Stark.”  

                You smiled, happy he agreed.  There was no point in waiting.  Tony may have held on to the chocolate for a year, but like him, you knew what you wanted.  Right now that was to be Mrs. Stark.  

                “You’re the worst secret Santa ever.” You held your hand out and looked at the ring. “Or maybe the best. I can’t decide.”

                “I’ll take that as a compliment.”  Tony laughed.  “Merry Christmas baby.”  

                And a Merry Christmas it was.  

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #avengers smut #christmas smut #fanfic #tony stark fluff #tony smut #tony x reader #robert downey jr #avengers #marvel smut #samsrockinwritingchallenge

[fortunatelyclevercandy]

Richard Armitage: 'I’m a bit mean. I haven’t got a nice-guy face’

Source: telegraph.co.uk

By Jasper Rees

7:00AM BST 22 Jul 2011

Richard Armitage talks to Jasper Reesabout his penchant for playing tough nuts, including his latest role as a Nazi in the superhero movie 'Captain America’ .

Is there a harder hard man? A more dastardly villain? He incarnates SAS author Chris Ryan in the Sky series Strike Back, was Robin Hood’s scowling nemesis Guy of Gisborne, and infamously revealed himself as a ruthless killer - not nice Lucas North but nasty John Bateman - in the most recent series of the BBC’s Spooks. And now he’s playing a cold-hearted Nazi infiltrator in the much anticipated whizzbangy film version of Captain America.

In person, of course, Richard Armitage turns out to be the softest pussycat. Not to look at, of course. He’s six foot something and mostly consists of granite and stubble. But the voice is on the quiet side, and he radiates an air of proper humility. So why is he never Mr Nice on screen?

“I suppose I’m a bit mean. My face on camera doesn’t lend itself to happy nice guys. I think it’s just that my bone structure looks menacing. I don’t smile that often.”

He duly smiles, enchantingly, at the absurdity of the gap between image and reality. “Somebody asked me after I’d done all that training for Strike Back, 'Could you go out and work with the SAS?’ I thought, what a ridiculous question. It’s about replicating a look.”

He even thinks he may qualify as a wimp. In Captain America: The First Avenger, the latest cinematic take on a Marvel Comics superhero, Armitage is once more rotten to the core. He plays Heinz Kruger, a Teutonic assassin who at one point is involved in a super-macho underwater tussle. Only one problem.

“I am just not a water baby. I can swim but I just don’t. Everyone else is jumping in and I’ll go, ’You know what? I’ll just stand on the side.’

“I did four weeks of scuba training for the sequence and made myself do fifty lengths every day. Then we were at the bottom of a tank and there was ten metres above you.” All 15 or 16 stone of him shudders at the memory of the moment the divers confiscated his goggles and breathing line. “They had put a microphone in the water so you could hear them say, 'Just waiting for the bubbles to clear.’ I’m at the bottom of the tank thinking, I’ve taken a deep breath but I haven’t got enough air. When they asked me to do it again I was sitting in the dressing room crying, 'I can’t!’”

In another scene they put him in an empty box within a container filled with water. “They wanted to smash a window and the water rush in quickly. They’d put all the safety things in place but you can’t fool the brain: you have a fight-or-flight mechanism that you can’t control. I smashed the roof off.”

Armitage’s modest portrait of himself as the reluctant stuntman is slightly tarnished when he reveals that, to prepare for a scene in Spooks, he became perhaps the first person in the history of torture to volunteer for waterboarding. “They put a wet cloth over your nostrils and your mouth, hold it tight and pour water into it. It’s like suffocating underwater. I think I managed five seconds. I got the glimmer of something I could replicate: total terror, a certain sound, and the spasm the body does when you feel it.”

The young Armitage, growing up eager to act, ran off to the circus in Budapest at the age of 19 to get his Equity card. It’s a less than romantic memory. “The best grounding it gave me was that I couldn’t stoop any lower than sleeping next to an elephant and throwing a hula-hoop to a skateboarder. It was pretty grim. Two Russian guys taught me to do a back flip with two towels.” Could he do one now, aged 39? “No way.”

After drama school he guessed his future was in theatre. Spear-carrying at the RSC cured him of that assumption. He understudied in one hatchet-faced tragedy that went on tour. “We limped around and I saw audiences being tortured by our production. That put me off. I’m not much of a show-off. I don’t really go after that kind of applause.”

Screen acting didn’t go much better until one day he went into an audition for the BBC drama Sparkhouse in character as a grouchy Northern farmer. “It came out of real frustration of not getting anything. Normally I’d go in with my hair all brushed and polished. It was the first time I’ve played a character over four episodes with an arc.”

His gruff mill-owner in Mrs Gaskell’s North and South followed, as did his betrothal to Dawn French in The Vicar of Dibley. He’s even played Monet in a drama doc.

But there’s no getting round his physique. He got Strike Back, he says, because “somebody must have turned it down. I thought, this is your bog-standard boys-with-toys story. The challenge was to find the human interest inside a war machine story.”

When Spooks came round, he’d not seen more than a few episodes of the first series. “They hadn’t written the part. They wanted to bring in a character who had quite a complicated back story so they could then feed off that.” Even Armitage was surprised by the sudden stripping away of Lucas North’s carapace. “They kept it from me at the end that he did know there was a bomb in the bag. There’s me thinking that he’s done a good thing.”

One day he’d like to have a go at ultimate baddie Richard III. For the next two years Armitage will be flying back and forth to New Zealand to play a dwarf in Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit. Not a small dwarf, mind. “I’m carrying 20 kilos of costume and weights so I’m doing load of lower back and leg exercises.”

Is that a drag for an actor keen to stay in touch with his inner softie? “I want to be strong enough to cope with the roles, but I don’t want to be cast as the guy that takes his shirt off. I’m looking forward to getting fat and old so I don’t have to lift weights.”

Captain America is released next Friday

#he is not a water baby #me neither #we have a lots of things in common #that's strange #and also charming #:) #richardinterview #BerlinBoy

[btextswriting]

GOLDEN TICKET {part 6 of HACKED}

Thomas threw the magazine into Yoongi’s hands. Oh, so now you’re throwing Y/N through the ringer. Fucking convict. The guard spat as Yoongi picked up the magazine. Rolling his eyes at Thomas, he skimmed the cover, a small smile resonated on his face. What the fuck are you smiling for? The warden questioned, but Yoongi flipped the magazine opened and began reading.

Can you close the door on your way out? Yoongi waved his hand and Thomas looked at him furiously.

I’m not your butler, you asshole. Thomas responded, but Yoongi was now looking at the article. Hey! I’m talking to you! Thomas yelled at him, snatching the magazine from Yoongi’s grasp. This just made Yoongi feel burdened rather than angered. Jocks like Thomas were always going after him when he was in middle school and high school. Yoongi’s build and lack of athletic desire really made him an easy target for bullies. So by this point, Yoongi was used to people like Thomas, but for some odd reason Thomas hated him. Ugh, you’re not worth it, scum. Thomas tossed the magazine back at Yoongi, and Yoongi looked at him.

Hmm. Interesting. Yoongi said and looked back down at his magazine. Thomas watched him.

What’s interesting? He asked and Yoongi shrugged.

It’s just I understand the notes on your file now. Yoongi replied and flipped the magazine back open. But it wasn’t before long that Thomas was back in his face.

MY FILE?! He screamed and by this point the rest of the inmates were starting to gather outside of Yoongi’s door. The house was built so that the inmates could wander around like normal people, so they would usually be nearby if anything happened. HOW HAVE YOU SEEN MY FILE?! Thomas continued his tirade at Yoongi.

Of course I have. You have severe anger issues so they put you here. But now with Y/N being around you seem to have forgotten your anger management training. Would you like to take a couple of my sessions so she can help you? Yoongi questioned and the guys hollered in the background. Thomas had grabbed Yoongi’s collar and was about to beat him to a pulp, when Jungkook stepped in. Jungkook’s frame was thinner than Thomas, but he was just as tall and his training in the mob allowed for Jungkook to have an advantage. Yoongi looked over Thomas’s shoulder at Jungkook, who cracked his neck.

Thomas, let go of Yoongi hyung. Jungkook’s alliance was with those he could trust, as the son of a mob boss, he didn’t trust the government. Jungkook’s loyalty was with Yoongi and a shiver raced down Thomas’s spine at the gritted tone of Jungkook’s voice. Thomas, however, tightened his grip on Yoongi’s collar and punched Yoongi across the face. Jimin’s gasp could be heard as Thomas dropped Yoongi’s collar, allowing Yoongi to fall on the floor. As Thomas turned with a smirk to look at Jungkook, his world went black. Jungkook kicked him in the temple causing an instant knockout and Thomas fell unconscious. Namjoon rolled his eyes at the scene as Jimin and Jin hovered over Yoongi.

I swear, Jungkook, you’re going to be in here forever if you keep beating up the guards. Namjoon mentioned to the younger inmate, but Jungkook just shrugged with a grin.

He needs to learn manners. And as my father always says, I’ll teach him the hard way, before I make anything easy. Jungkook said in a deeper voice as if to mock his father, but the guys looked from Jungkook to the passed out guard that laid in front of them. Well, we should probably get him out of here, or they will think Yoongi hyung did it. Jungkook continued but Namjoon shook his head.

Nah, they won’t. And with that Namjoon moved to the side to reveal you and Hyunho standing behind him. A guard accompanied the two of you, and when you heard the ruckus coming from Yoongi’s room, you practically sprinted to see Yoongi get punched in the face by Thomas and Jungkook kick the shit out of Thomas’s idiotic skull. Hyunho tried to hold you back, but you rushed over to Yoongi’s side.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Provoking a guard like that! You admitted to hacking government prison systems and now look at you. You tsked while Yoongi chuckled and held the side of his face. Let me see. You said and Yoongi slowly moved his hand away. The black and blue bruising was already forming and his left eye was beginning to shut with swelling and discomfort. You gingerly touched the beaten area and looked over your shoulder at the guard who nodded and walked to the end of the hall for a first aid kit. More guards came and hovered around Thomas as they looked at the inmates that were standing in the room. Forcing the six convicts to their respective rooms, the guards ushered Thomas to the infirmary as you quietly helped Yoongi.

He started it. Yoongi said and you rolled your eyes with a wry smile on your face.

Yea, I know. He’s an ass. You mumbled and Yoongi raised his eyebrows.

I thought you were all weak for Mr. Macho. Yoongi scoffed and chuckled as you shook your head.

He’s hot. But that’s it. I can’t hold a conversation with that man to save my life. You joked and Yoongi laughed a little. Placing an ice pack on his face, he cringed at the pain. Sorry. You muttered and Yoongi shook his head.

It’s okay. Like you said, I provoked him. Yoongi replied simply and you looked at him. So it’s Thursday, why are you here? He asked as he continued to make eye contact with you.

Oh, uhm. You were brought back into reality and looked over your shoulder at a very uncomfortable Hyunho. I wanted to introduce you to Hyunho oppa, he will be representing you in the trial. You said as you stood up and helped Yoongi. Yoongi brushed himself off and stretched out his hand. Hyunho was cautious as he took Yoongi’s outstretched hand. Giving him a small bow, Hyunho was a bit surprised at the formal and well-mannered nature of Yoongi.

Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you so much for helping. Yoongi said with genuine gratitude and Hyunho looked at you. You gave him a small smile, a little motion of ‘I told you so’ and you patted him on the back.

I’ll leave the two of you. I want to talk to Jungkook about what happened just now. You got up and left. Yoongi watched you leave and then looked at Hyunho, who had been staring at him the entire time.

So you and Y/N? He asked and Yoongi shook his head.

Never going to happen. Look at me. He gestured to his surroundings. My life is full of crime, my best friends are some of the country’s most hated white collar criminals, and she shouldn’t be dampening her reputation with a guy like me. He muttered and Hyunho shook his head.

You’re right she shouldn’t. The amount of shit she’s gotten just in the past week from her mom --- Hyunho began and Yoongi stopped him.

She’s getting shit from her mom? Yoongi asked. He remembered what you had said to him and a part of his stomach dropped.

Well, if it wasn’t this, her mom would find something else to be upset with her about. Don’t worry about it. Hyunho tried to calm him down, but Yoongi was now focused on how difficult this could make your life.

Does the government know she’s doing this? Yoongi asked Hyunho without looking up at him. Hyunho thought for a moment.

Well with the article, everyone knows. He shrugged and Yoongi looked up at him.

The Covert Corps will be after her. Yoongi said with such conviction that Hyunho felt hairs stand up. The Covert Corps was a secret police that was revealed during the document drop. Since then, many government officials said that this squad of militarized police officers was eliminated, but Yoongi had access to the database. They have been revamped. They are much more secretive and harder to pinpoint, but they are still utilized for missions. Yoongi pulled up his computer and began typing quickly. See? In the past month, they have arrested 20 individuals who have gone against the regulations. Yoongi turned the screen and Hyunho saw a magnitude of words and documents that were confidential to the public.

Yoongi, you cannot be doing this if you want a retrial. This shows that you are doing this on your own. Hyunho said, but Yoongi shook his head.

Look at the documents. It proves that the government is continuing to lie. Now I know that I can get out of here, if I accept their proposal. But I don’t want to be back in a place that does this to civilians. He responded and Hyunho stopped him.

What proposal? He asked. Yoongi didn’t answer, just opened an email account and searched for a specific file. Opening it, he showed it to the lawyer. There in black and white was an agreement that if signed, Yoongi would accept an instant release from prison in exchange for hacking into databases around the globe. Hyunho looked at Yoongi. You just gave me your own golden ticket. Hyunho called up his superior and sent him the arrangement. Looking back at Yoongi, Hyunho said something that would change his own life. We are going to trial on Monday.  

#suga #min suga #suga fluff #suga x you #suga x reader #min yoongi #yoongi #suga drabble #suga fanfic #fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #fake texts #bts fanfic #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #angst #bangtan angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #angst fanfic

[hseasonpodcast]

Chapter 3 Summary:

In this episode, we bear witness to the trial of the century as Dwayne Johnson is prosecuted for the murder of Hornswoggle. Find out the verdict in this gripping courtroom drama.

Recorded in Arlington, VA with Alyssa Cowan (Arlington, VA / alyssapants.com / @alyssapants), Johnny Black (Washington, DC / @JohnnyOverthink), and Noah Crowley (Springfield, VA / @capitallaughsdc)

Episode Notes:

There’s no type writer in this episode, because I discovered that mine kicked the bucket on the last flight it was on. =/

Here’s a link to the Russell Madness trailer we were watching: youtube.com/watch?v=dVH9ULo4mzQ

We make a joke about there being an app that people use when the Wyatts come out. That’s because we were at a WWE even and Johnny thought it was an app, and one of us was like…”You know it’s just the flashlight on your phone?” So, we still make fun of him for that.

Johnny, Noah, and I enjoy going to Nova Pro Wrestling (@VAWrestling), and Cutie and Beast (@CATBwrestling) is one of the tag teams we really enjoy.

I used the music of Kevin MacLeod in this episode. You can find his work at incompetech.com.

If you like the podcast:

Follow us on Twitter (@hseasonpodcast). Chat about wrestling, or send in some suggestions for the story!

Like us on Facebook (facebook.com/HSeasonPodcast)

Hop on over to our Mad Lib review generator (bit.ly/2ff5nrV). You add the words, and it will email you a review and a link to post your review on iTunes.

Thanks for listening!

Love,

Alyssa

Chapter 3

The Rock calls the cops on Dwayne Johnson. It’s a very “Don’t shoot me, shoot him!” situation. He calls the cops on him for the murder of Hornswoggle and he tries to frame him.

Establishing shot: the set of Ballers. Helicopter shot over the set of Ballers. The wind howls on a grey day. Isn’t Ballers in Miami? It’s grey in Miami sometimes. Even in Miami, it’s grey sometimes. Is it always sunny in Miami? No, that’s Philadelphia. This is when we realize that Miami is the shadowform of Philadelphia.

Is Miami the good guy? No man, it’s just different forms of life. The UnderTaker, woops I mean Mark Calloway, has his own rich inner life. We meant to talk about Mark Calloway, so we’re clear.

Back to the story:

Rain drops swirl as the cops circle around Dwayne Johnson. He was filming a drug bust scene so he can’t tell the difference between real cops and fake cops, so he’s not taking anyone seriously. Paul Scheer is really hamming it up and is like jumping in front of the Rock and someone straight up shoots Paul Scheer. That cop removes his mask and it’s Rob Corddry, he was in riot gear. Rob Corddry was part of the real cops.

Smash cut to Dwayne Johnson in a cop car, finally taking it seriously.

Rob Corddry starts fading like they do in back to the future. He has to get Paul Scheer into the recombobulation chamber so they both don’t die. Rob didn’t realize that’s what happens if you kill your shadow, or did he? ‘Cause that’s we’re trying to figure out.

Once your shadow dies you have 24 hours to get them into the chamber (recombobluation) so you can be the only version of that thing/person/place. That’s why the Rock called the cops on Dwayne Johnson.

Hornswoggle was murdered at the Megaman Invitational, which took place at Billy Ocean’s house, so they have to have the trial at Billy Ocean’s house. That’s how the law works (It’s maritime law, /shrug). This is the trial of the Rock vs. the People of the Republic of Billy Ocean’s Maritime House. Billy Ocean, Judge Billy Ocean is presiding.

The prosecutor would obviously be very great, just the best, we have great people working for us. We find out that UnderTaker has reincarnated Macho Man Randy Savage. He’s the prosecutor. He’s a real good guy, an Atticus finch type lawyer. Good dude. UnderTaker reincarnating Macho Man sparks a big Twitter war with Donald Trump.

The Rock is getting nervous because his defense attorney isn’t showing up. He woops, we mean Dwayne Johnson’s attorney. I guess the Rock shouldn’t have an attorney here.

The prosecution calls its first witness to the stand. The Rock is sad that his defense attorney Bray Wyatt hasn’t shown up yet. The Rock wanted to get rid of the… Dwayne Johnson’s attorney, I mean. Also the rock wanted to fuck this sentence, what’s next?

First witness: Kendrick Lamar to the stand!

“State your name, playa.”

“Kendrick, ‘I like to rap’ Lamar. State your name.”

“Oh, Billy Ocean. Sassy, you are sassy and I like it. I’ll allow it,” says the judge.

Macho man says, “Oooh yeaaahhh. ”

“Yes!” screams Kendrick Lamar, “Say your name, what is your name?”

“Oooh yeah, Macho Man Randy Savage. I played Bone Saw in the Spiderman movies oh yea, and Kendrick Lamar I’ve got you for two minutes.”

Kendrick Lamar just starts clapping. He loves it. Then they lower a steel cage that traps Kendrick Lamar and Randy Savage. Man, maritime law, am I right?

“Bone Saw, Bone Saw!” screams Billy Ocean. Shoutout to Spiderman for keeping wrestling kayfabe.

“Oooh yeah, now I’m just a simple small down lawyer, but will you explain to these good people what happened during the Megaman Wrestling and Rap Invitational?

“Well, I was rapping, which is what I love to do.”

“Objection, let the record show I also love rapping, I have a whole rap album. It was a dis track against Hogan and other songs.”

Billy Ocean is like, ” I’ll allow it. It’s not an objection, but it is a fun fact.”

“The murder weapon was the Rock’s hands, he killed him with his own two hands.” Kendrick has video evidence.

They pull down a Titantron, and it lowers from the ceiling. Kendrick yells “Play, Goddamnit!”

It shows footage of the piledriver. The courtroom is aghast at the grisly footage. A resolute Macho Man says, “Oh yeah, nothing further, your honor.”

The lights go out suddenly! When they come back up, the UnderTaker appears in the cage and Billy Ocean is dumbfounded: “Nobody can get into the cage when it’s lowered, I’ll still allow it.”

“I think you wanted somebody else,” says the UnderTaker and the lights go down one more time. The lights come back up, and Sting is in the cage.

“Oooo show time,” yells Sting! Everyone pops, but they also know that’s still not the right person. Very smarky people in courtroom

“How are people still getting into this cage?” Billy Ocean’s mind is blown. He can’t figure out the tricks of wrestling.

The lights go back out again, and all the jury turns on their phone apps that make the lights and stuff, and Bray shuffles in.

“Sorry, it was really dark, I had to use this ladder to get into the cage.” When the lights turn on he’s trying to pull his rocking chair into the cage, but it’s stuck.

“Brothers and sisters, I am in darkness because I am not blinded by the light, this man is not the Rock, I can see into his soul.”

“That’s not really a question,” says Kendrick.

Bray pays no attention to Kendrick Lamar, and continues ranting about snakes, some lady named Abigail and the Donald Trump Twitter war.

Three hours later. Bray finally successfully pulls his chair trough the cage, and Billy Ocean is like, “Why didn’t we just lift the cage to bring in the chair?”

The whole time bray was ranting he was pulling on the chair. Bray says, “Nay Brother Ocean, I wanted to bring the chair through the cage to prove that nothing is impossible. The Rock switched with Dwayne, like I did with UnderTaker and Sting.”

The funniest horse is like, “More like ‘neigh brother'”

The whole jury is horses: Seabiscuit, Bojack Horseman, Carrie, Black Beauty, Seasbiscuit, Mr. Ed, and they all chuckle at the joke. Also Hornswoggle wearing a horse mask is on the jury. Also Hayden and Hornswoggle’s horse cousin, but they’re wearing the horse costume. For some reason they’re both wearing the bottom horse part of the costume.

“Look at this hung jury, naw mean? We’re hung like horses,” shouts seabiscuit 1 as he starts laugh crying.

Billy Ocean says, “I’ll allow it. It’s my party, but you’ll cry if you want to. I extend that over to everyone here. :)” Half the room breaks down in tears.

“We’ve been holding back that life is so sad,” they say.

“Prosecution call your next witness. ”

No! Swerve, the defense calls in Paul Scheer. Rob Cordroy brings in Paul Scheer in his backpack. He’s a busy guy on the go. But everybody thinks it’s Paul Scheer, just wearing a normal backpack. Bray is asking Paul Scheer to tell people something only the Dwayne Johnson would know, and not the Rock, but Paul Scheer can’t because it’s really Rob Corddry. Rob Corddry asks, “What is the Rock cooking?”

Dwayne is like, “Falafel?”

Gasps through the courtroom. Horses hate falafel. But they know he’s Dwayne now and not the Rock. Among the hubub Billy Ocean slams his gavel, and send the horse jury to the stable to render their verdict. They all have matching shirts, they rull cool.

By the way. The four horsemen are there too. We totally didn’t miss it. They’re all there, all the different iterations, and the four horsewomen. There are like 12 of them. 12 four horsemen.

The horse jury returns after exactly four hours, a lot of it was for the sandwich eating, they really just wanted sandwiches, they knew what was going to be the final verdict, but hey, free sandwiches. They declare the Rock not guilty, as Hornswoggle pulls off his horse mask. A hush falls over the crowd, “How can Hornswoggle be dead if he’s alive?” UnderTaker crawls up the wall into an air duct so as to not have to explain this situation, it’s just super complicated and he doesn’t want to have to deal with that shit. Just as he gets in the air duct his mom calls and the ringtone echoes throughout the courthouse, it’s the song “Mama Mia” by ABBA. Billy Ocean is like, “What the fuck? He’s not even dead? We just wasted our goddamn time!!!”

The Rock bursts into the courtroom, “Not True!!! He’s double not guilty, which makes him guilty!!” Billy Ocean is all like, “Ohhh shit man, that’s crazy. ”

So, Dwayne Johnson is heading to jail, and surprise, the road to WrestleMania is also a moving walkway. Like at an airport. A moving walkway is the shadow version of a road. So they’re there. WrestleMania.

Cut to Stone Cold. The camera pans up a little bit more and it’s not Stone Cold, it’s Cutie and the Beast!! Cutie is like, “Do you think we can do? We can make it to WrestleMania?”

And the Beast says, “Yes, ’cause we’re family, and the best tag team is family!!!­­”

#fanfiction #pro wrestling #wwe #hurricanrana season #h season podcast #podcast #the rock #dwayne johnson #the undertaker #hornswoggle #seabiscuit #alyssa cowan #johnny black #noah crowley