#also nancys bra does not fit her

[this-doesnt-endd]

I hate that godawful checkered wallpaper bedroom thats gotta be a sin or at least a misdemeanor

[starrystevie]

18+ | modern ronance / cw: public sex | crossposted from twitter

robin has her nipples pierced. she has her nipples pierced and doesn’t wear a bra and always has on a too tight or too sheer or too short top making them obvious to those who know what to look for.

nancy knows what to look for and it drives her crazy.

they aren’t dating, they aren’t fucking but they’re dancing around being something with flirty grins and touches that could almost be considered lingering if they didn’t pull away so quickly. robin looks down at nancy with hooded eyes and she looks back with mischief in her own, promises of that something behind each of their gazes.

but every time she wears one of those goddamn shirts, nipple rings protruding enough to see the outline, to see when she’s changed from a bar bell to a ring, nancy is one know-it-all smirk away from letting robin know how she feels.

she wants to get her hands on them. wants to feel the metal under her palms. wants to rip off a too tight too sheer too short top and get her mouth on them. wants to have robin in her lap, riding her thigh so she can lick the ring into her mouth and tug on it with her teeth.

and nancy is anything but stupid. she knows that robin knows, knows that she wears those fucking shirts on purpose to see nancy barely holding herself together. she’ll make sure to stretch her arms up so the shirts go taut and tight when she knows she has nancy’s eyes on her. she’ll lean forward when she’s wearing a loose button up, enough to have so much skin on display that it has to be intentional. she’ll scratch lazily at her tit and get her nipple hard so that everything is obvious through the fabric knowing it will make nancy lose her mind.

and it does. every single goddamn time. nancy always has to go home and fuck her self on her fingers as she thinks about robin’s tits, about leaving bites and bruises on them until the rings stand out even more against her marred skin, coming hard and fast at the thought.

eventually she knows she has to do something about it. she knows she needs to tell robin that she’s not only in love with her but also in love with her perfect, perky tits and needs to see if she can fit one in her mouth, needs to flick at her nipples until she comes.

turns out, she doesn’t have to wait much longer. steve and eddie pull them out to their favorite club one night for their two month anniversary like it’s an actual day to celebrate and the girls, of course, go along. the guys are grinding against each other in the corner and robin buys nancy her usual vodka soda while she gets her own jack and coke. her shirt tonight is sinful, sheer enough that somehow the metal shines through when the club lights hit just right, loose enough to push a hand under without rucking up the fabric.

they go to the dance floor without question because that’s what they always do, robin holding nancy’s hand as she pulls her along under some guise of not wanting to lose her in the crowd even though they both know that’s not the only reason.

it doesn’t take long until they’re pressed together, nancy’s back to robin’s front. it’s what they always do but tonight it feels charged with something else. robin’s hand is on the side of nancy’s hip, loose enough to break from but tight enough to know she wants her to stay. not that nancy would want to break away from her anyway.

she’s feeling a little wild, a little daring, and maybe it’s the vodka or the way that robin’s piercings are obvious against her back. she snakes a hand up to wrap her arm around the back of robin’s neck, pulling her closer. she can feel her hot breath puffing against her skin as she leans down, following the pressure from nancy's hand.

the fingers on her hip flex and tighten, pushing them together the tiniest bit more and she can feel when robin drops her head to rest in the crook of her neck. her breath is even hotter now, closer to her bare skin than she was before, dampening her already sweat soaked skin.

nancy tangles her fingers into robin’s hair, coaxing her down to hint that she can put her lips on her skin if she wants. she can taste her if she wants. it doesn’t take long until nancy jumps when a kiss is pressed featherlight under her ear. her fingers tug on the hair between them and it’s like a green light moving all systems to go.

there’s a tongue flicking out to finally taste nancy’s skin and she pushes her hips back to grind harder against robin. there’s a hand traveling from her hip a bit closer to where she actually wants it, pressing teasingly into the lowest part of her belly, lust rushing behind her behind her bellybutton at the sensation.

nancy drops her hand from her head so she can place it on top of robin’s, pushing her fingers down so the pressure increases. she gasps at the feeling and can feel robin do something of the same, teeth scraping against her skin followed by her tongue like she's trying to sooth it. in the back of her mind, she's hoping robin will do it again.

she’s glad they know each other so well since they won’t be able to hear each other over the music. as robin’s hand goes to move lower, nancy spins in her grasp, desperate for something else. now they’re face to face, robin’s eyes hooded and dark in the low light, trained on nancy's lips, her own lips spit slick from her ministrations on her neck.

her leg slips between nancy’s as her hand comes to rest on the center her ass, pulling them close. it doesn’t take long until nancy’s pushing up on her toes as robin bends down so they can finally kiss each other for the first time. she isn’t surprised when a tongue flicks out against her lips, isn't surprised when hers comes out to meet it either.

making out with robin on the dance floor is great, heavenly, everything she could want. well, almost everything that is. her hand slides onto robin’s side just under her loose shirt. her skin is warm against nancy’s fingers, under her palm, soft in a way that makes her want to get her mouth on it.

robin surges forward and presses harder on her ass like she knows what nancy wants. needs what nancy wants. her shirt is loose enough that nancy's hand finds her tit easily. it fits perfectly in her palm just like she knew it would, heavy in that wonderful way that makes her mind go blank with desire. with their legs entwined, they both roll their hips in an obvious way to get pressure where they need it, mouths opening on moans that get drowned out by the booming bass.

robin pulls back from their kiss and keeps nancy’s bottom lip bitten between her teeth, tugging gently like a hint of what she really wants. when nancy’s finger slip up to pinch her nipple, she lets go of her lip with a hiss and thrust of her hips.

“you gotta thing for tits, wheeler? that’s so fucking hot,” robin mutters against her ear as she brings her hand around from her ass to her front.

her hand slips easily under nancy’s skirt, palm flat against her wet panties to give her something more to grind on. nancy can feel her eyes roll back and she tugs harshly on robin’s nipple causing them both to groan.

"no, i have a thing for your tits. drive me crazy with those things..."

their hands are clever and fit where they need to be and soon enough they’re both rolling their hips and breathing into each other’s mouths as they come.

nancy keeps her hand on robin’s tit, tugging and pinching to keep her squirming in her grasp, rocking her hips needily against robin's hand as she rides out her orgasm. robin gets back at her by slipping 2 fingers into her soaked through panties, sliding into nancy’s wet cunt easily and swallowing the groan she gets in return.

“we need to go,” nancy says as she stretches up to get her mouth to robin’s ear, pussy clenching around the fingers robin is slowly pumping in her. “i need you naked and on my bed immediately.”

when they get back to nancy’s, she gets to see what metal feels like against her tongue. and if she finds a surprise piercing lower down, she’ll taste that one too.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

What I wish had happened, set between seasons 1&2, but after Flight of Icarus:

Nancy couldn't breathe. She was having another attack, the kind she's been having since it all went to shit. . .since Barb died. She hadn't told Steve about any of it, not really. Steve. . .she loved Steve. He was so sweet and kind, so patient with her. When she was with him, he made her feel less alone with her grief, but at the same time, when she looked at him, she thought about Barb dying. Does a part of her blame Steve? How could she? They didn't do anything wrong that night. Did they? She stormed into the bathroom without paying attention to her surroundings and locked herself into an empty stall.

"Fuck!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Okay. . .either I'm in the wrong bathroom, or you're in the wrong bathroom," a male voice said.

Nancy paused before opening the stall door and finally seeing the urinals. Of course. She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it.

"I'm in the wrong bathroom," Nancy said and laughed when she realized she could breathe again.

"It's alright, we've all have those days," the man replied.

"You've had days where you accidentally went into the wrong bathroom?" Nancy asked.

"A couple of times, yes, but it did not end well for me," he said.

"I'm sure it didn't," Nancy said, laughing.

"So, what ails you, my fellow man?" He asked.

"Um, I don't even know you," Nancy said.

"Exactly, you don't know me, which means you can tell me anything, and it's not like I can tell anyone because I don't even know who you are," he said. "Talking about it helps."

"So, you're just in it to help me out and not because you're a nosy shit?" Nancy asked.

"Can't it be both?" He asked.

"I don't blame you. I would have been curious too," Nancy said and sighed. "I want to make it work with my boyfriend, but there's this cloud hanging over us."

"What is it?" He asked.

"My best friend died the night that we had sex for the first time," she sighed. "And I just feel guilty."

"Holy shit, that's fucking heavy," he replied. "So, do you think that the sex was so powerful that it killed them?"

"What?! No," she sighed.

"Did you want to have sex with your boyfriend?" He asked.

"Yes! I had everything all planned out. I mean, not necessarily for that night, but I had a new bra, a new sweater. I even went on birth control. When I looked at him, I just knew I wanted him. Nothing else mattered. Not even her voice could get to me," Nancy said.

"Her voice? Your best friend?" He asked.

"Yeah. She was against me having sex with him from the very beginning. She told me that it wasn't me," Nancy replied.

"Well, did she know that you're a planner and that no matter what, you do what you want even if someone tells you not to?" He asked.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Was she the kind of friend who eventually came around if she saw how happy it made you?" He asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied.

"She wasn't the kind of friend who would just abandon you or walk away from you?" He asked.

"No, she wouldn't," she said.

"Then to me, I think, that she would have had no choice but to come around because you made the choice to sleep with him. It was your choice and not hers. As insensitive as this might be, she had no right to make you feel bad about wanting to sleep with him. . .unless he's not like a serial killer, is he?" He asked.

"No!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Good, good," he said.

"It's just that she wasn't the only one who said it," Nancy sighed. "Someone also told me that I was trying too hard to be someone else."

"Look, I'm going to tell you something that my uncle told me when I was trying to run away from everyone's expectations of me. 'You can't walk through life shaking yourself to pieces over how other people think you should be. They'll always try to fit you in some box - angel, devil. Hero, villain. Fuckup, saint. But we ain't meant for boxes, not 'til we're dead in the ground. You're the only person who knows who you are. So stop trying to fit yourself into one of their boxes and just let yourself be you.'," he said in a gruff voice.

"Your uncle sounds like a smart man," Nancy said.

"Yeah, I'll tell him you said that," he said. "It sounds to me like you have survivor's guilt."

"Survivor's guilt?"

"I've only read about it, but you survived. She didn't. You feel guilty about it. You enjoyed yourself, she didn't. Unless you want to lay with her in the ground, maybe the best thing that you can do for her is to live and do what makes you happy," he said. "Because no matter what you do, it's not going to change the fact that she died. So, does he make you happy?"

"Yes," Nancy said, saying it without any doubt.

"Then I suggest you stop running away from what makes you happy," he said in amusement. "Not that I'm telling what to do. You do whatever you want to."

"I get it," she laughed. "Thank you. . .okay, I have to call you something."

"Samwise," he grinned as he held a ring covered hand under the stall.

Nancy grinned at the pig ring on his hand. She liked that one.

"Well, then I guess you can call me Eowyn," she replied, shaking his hand.

"Gasp! She reads Lord of the Rings!" He asked. "I have to know you!"

"Oh no! You're the one who wanted to keep it anonymous. I have to go! Thanks again, Samwise!" Nancy giggled and hurried to leave the bathroom.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, she hurried to meet Steve by his car. Nancy skidded to a stop in the parking lot. Jonathan was walking towards his car, and she stared at his back for a moment before shaking her head. She looked over at Steve, who was leaning against his car. It was strange how the sun was shining down on him, like the world knew what her choice was. Yes, her choice had always been Steve. There were still so many things that they needed to talk about, but she was ready to face them now. . . With Steve. He glanced her way, and she smiled before running towards him. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him, throwing everything into the kiss. She pulled away with a gasp.

"I love you, Steve Harrington," she said.

"I love you, too, Nancy Wheeler," he said with a goofy grin. "What's this about?"

"It just hit me today that I really love you," she said. "I know I've been distant, but I'm hoping to clear all this up this evening. I really want to talk about it with you."

"You can talk to me about anything, Nancy," he said, softly.

"I know," she replied.

As she kissed him again, she knew without a doubt that this was the right choice. . .the right road to follow.

[thestrangestthing89]

Inversion of Tropes - Part 2

The mercy kill trope/trauma porn trope This typically happens just as a character heals from trauma or when they aren't in a romantic relationship because they can't seem to figure out what to do with a character who is single. There will probably be more to say about this next season with regard to El's arc. I suspect she will be going on an independent journey and worrying more about reclaiming her childhood than any adult or teenager appropriate things. She missed a huge part of her life and her recovery from this is an important part of her story. So I don't expect them to suddenly kill her off just as she's getting to the point where she can have the life she wants. It's honestly so awful and frustrating when shows do this. I will probably write more about this post S5. This show has also never been unnecessarily violent. Any of the violence actually serves the plot and none of the characters have ignored any of the trauma they've gone through and pretended it didn't happen. Shows like Walking Dead and Game of Thrones like to do this. Everything is brutal and excessively violent in the name of "realism" but they never show the aftermath of what it does to the characters. It's trauma porn. It's for people who have become so desensitized to violence that they can't recognize that this isn't actually realistic or sophisticated storytelling. Stranger Things hasn't gone to an extreme with this and they have started to show ways that all of this trauma have impacted everyone - bad grades, attitude problems, etc. They don't unnecessarily torture their characters in the name of entertainment.

Unnecessary exploitative shots This isn't exactly a trope but it's so prevalent in tv and movies that I thought I'd add it here. Often, with male directors especially, there are so many creepy, lingering shots on the female characters in particular that end up being exploitative. We don't see that here. Even with Nancy in S1 who takes her shirt off. We don't get lingering shots of her in a bra that feel violating. The camera focuses on Steve most of the time and through most of the scene she is shot from the shoulders up. In the hands of a lot of male directors, there would have been more shots of El floating in her bath that could have easily been exploitative and many wouldn't have hesitated even though she's young. The scene that sticks out the most to me is the scene in S4 when she's in the freezer. She is fully covered and even though she's in white it's not see through or cringy in anyway. I am so relieved to see things like this because most directors wouldn't have hesitated to take advantage of her here. It's not just with the female characters either. Steve takes his shirt off and the focus isn't on him or lingering. It's on Nancy, Max, Lucas, and Dustins reactions. And Steve is an adult so it wouldn't have felt as creepy but it still would have been unnecessary. Same with Billy. We mainly see the reactions of the moms at the pool and the camera doesn't stay on him.

1d villain/villian who gets a redemption arch trope Billy, Henry, and Brenner could fit this and none of them are one dimensional. I don't think we are going to see a redemption arc for Henry. We saw one for Billy in S3. He's an abusive, bully but he "redeemed" himself by sacrificing himself for everyone. However S4 flips this around. We see Max's side of things and she doesn't forgive him. That one good act doesn't erase what he did to her. This is where she starts to get closure and heal. Forgiving him isn't forced on her in the name of healing. It's done in a realistic way where she has complex feeling about her relationship with him. We see her re-write their relationship into a more sibling dynamic that wasn't true. But she acknowledges that it wasn't and that it was just the grief talking. El goes through a similar thing with Brenner. She doesn't give him her forgiveness but she gets closure. She is ready to move on from this part of her life. But what he did to her was unforgivable and even though he called it love and called himself her father she knows better now.

The ugly girl turned beauty queen trope Makeovers on this show have been done for character development, particularly with El. But she never gets turned into the "hot girl". The closest they come to this is in S1 when she is wearing the pink dress with the blonde wig. The boys pick this out for her so she can look "normal". She is referred to as "pretty" and this is clearly something she wants - to be like everyone else. But she finds throughout the season that this isn't her. Her dress gets dirty and she loses her wig but she is still reassured the she is "pretty" (I'm pretty sure they use this here to mean normal and not attractive). El also goes through other makeovers to find herself and never once does she get dressed up to be "hot". None of the other female characters do either.

The antagonistic siblings trope For whatever reason this trope is prevalent in a lot of 80s movies. But we see the opposite happening with Will and Jonathan. Jonathan loves Will and takes care of him and supports him. He's never resentful of the role he plays in his life. We do see this trope play out a bit with Mike and Nancy. They have a typical sibling dynamic. The younger brother is annoying and bugs the older sister. Which is why I think they are going to invert this next season. They gave us what's familiar and now they will twist it.

The manic pixie dream girl trope This person is quirky and not like other girls. She is usually one dimensional and there for male character development and doesn't get a story of her own. Robin seems like she will fit this when she's first introduced. But then we see she isn't there for Steve's development and wasn't introduced to be his girlfriend. Instead we see them develop a friendship and she has her own storyline that isn't dependent on Steve - with Vicky and Nancy - and she helps the group out with the supernatural stuff and the Russians. She is smart and useful to the group.

The girls hate each other and are enemies for no reason trope This is usually done because the (usually) male writers can't figure out that girls actually get along IRL. So when we were first presented with this trope in S2, it seems like El and Max will hate each other. But El's jealousy is related to her trauma and isn't random. It was a realistic way to show that this girl was isolated and clingy with Mike. But she gets to know Max and they are BFFs now. They have such a great relationship that is beneficial for both of them. I am so glad they inverted this.

The cool guy gets the girl and wins trope I'm obviously talking about Steve. He isn't getting the girl at the end of this. I think this makes people angry because they don't know what to do with his character. I see a lot of criticisms directed at the writers for sidelining him or treating him badly but they aren't. He just simply isn't the star of the show. And that's ok. It's not his story. But people are so used to the straight, white, conventionally attractive male being the center of the narrative that they often place him here when he doesn't belong. (I wrote about his here). His role is as a secondary character. He is there for support and this doesn't mean that he's being sidelined. The audience gets resentful about it because they've never seen someone like him not be the center of attention so they fixate on him and complain he's being mistreated when he isn't. It's not his role to play the hero here. But it's not surprising that the part of the audience that doesn't relate to the nerds ends up fixating on him. They are used to being the lead and they think that's where someone like him/them belongs. So they overinflated his relationships and role within the group (he is not a mentor or a goddamn babysitter). It's hard for people to see something different. So they lash out at the writing and make HC's "correcting" things. But the actual narrative isn't going to change here. He's not the hero of this story.

I honestly wasn't expecting this to be so long. My point is this - this show has always, always done the unexpected thing. They give you what you what's familiar and then flip it upside down. So when I see people saying things like "they'll never break up Mike and El" it's entirely based on those people being so used to that narrative they don't know what other story to expect. It's the one that we are "supposed" to get. But they won't give this trope for the same reason they haven't given any of the others. This isn't a superficial story. It's not meant as casual, escapist tv. They are calling out storytelling as we've seen it. They are flipping the script and giving us something new.

[ignoregnome]

this rather long thingy is inspired by this post

by @babyboymunson! it's not even a ficlet or anything, i just really loved this idea so i decided to just spit a bunch of words out onto a page 💞💞

it starts with steve and robin, they have sleepovers all the time and often after they wake up in the morning steve will just throw on one of robin's big smocks and just fuckin saunter out of there, neither of them ever have a full ahoy uniform because they just keep stealing each other's. it's an established pattern by march '86, when steve meets eddie.

it's only a couple months before eddie gets together with steve, and when robin sleeps over at steves house and pulls a big shirt over her head, she's surprised to find a black metallica shirt that smells suspiciously like eddie. oh well, she thinks, and takes it home. after only a couple weeks, eddie's clothes are completely integrated into the steve-robin apparel reservoir, and all three of them just rotate clothes over and over. eddie finds clothes that are too small for both him and steve all the time in his closet, and is always confused as to where they came from.

cut to a few months later, when nancy and robin get together. nancy wearing robin's cargo pants, loose shirts, and even occasionally an ill-fitting bra, is a sight to behold for eddie and steve, who had simply NEVER envisioned her looking like this. also, robin wearing dresses. absolutely shocking. eddie is the most weirded out he's ever been and thinks someone is playing a prank on him when he somehow finds an extremely tight and extremely pink dress in his closet three months after ronance get together. the four of them have a little gathering, and they manage to track its movement — turns out, it went from nancy to robin to steve to nancy to steve to robin to steve to eddie. it doesn't make any more sense to them than it does to me, don't worry.

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

                              OUR LOVE FULL OF STORMS

                            gendrya modern marriage/family au // ao3

She has never been a Sansa, but she had it all more-or-less under control. So surely, having a family was supposed to be something else? Surely, there’s someone else to blame, cause it’s impossible that it’s just her fucking up to such a spectacular degree? // After the birth of their second child, Arya's and Gendry's marriage hits a speed bump

And in  the sea of our shared life

I try to count the islands of sorrow

And velvet reefs

Of when we were so happy

I can see our trees

Bent by the winds of time

I know so well

Our love filled with storms

It sometimes cuts

Both ways like a sword

And leaves deep wounds on you and me

Living together is hard

Being apart kills me

I think we’ll always be

So tangled up in one another

Shared address, shared kids, our dreams

So help me go back to those days again

- Na Sen, Urszula

ARYA

Nan started teething.

Nan started teething and it was the straw the broke Arya’s back. Because her daughter could not, would not stop wailing every waking minute of the day and because Lucas has, once again, started biting other kids in the daycare, and because her husband seemed to be completely unaffected by the fact that neither he or she could recall when was the last time they had sex – all of that resulted in Arya sitting, fully-clothed, in an empty bathtub and pondering on how this mess is her life now.

She has never been a Sansa, but she had it all more-or-less under control. So surely, having a family was supposed to be something else? Surely, there’s someone else to blame, cause it’s impossible that it’s just her fucking up to such a spectacular degree?

Like, there must be some explanation. Chances are though, she will never find it because just as she’s about to bang her head against the tiles, small fists start banging on the closed door.

‘’Mommy? Mommy, Nan’s crying.’’

Of course she is. She hardly does anything else these days.

She can hear it, even though the nursery is on the opposite side of the flat. Thin, piercing shrills, not yet as desperate as to require Arya’s immediate attention… but getting there soon.

A single drop of water drips on Arya’s socked feet. The sink has been leaking for weeks now, but of course, to get Gendry to do anything lately requires at least a formal administrative letter, so it’s bound to continue leaking until she fixes it herself. She could do it, but she won’t, purely out of spite. Between her and her husband, only one of them sleeps more than four hours at night, so she reasons that this exact person should be the one to fix the goddamned sink-

‘’Mommy!’’

‘’I’m coming, I’m coming,’’ she grumbles, climbing out of the bathtub with a sigh. Her breasts hurt like a bitch, which probably means it’s nursing time anyway. One thing she has to give to Nan; her daughter has absolutely no problem with eating regularly.

When she opens the door, Lucas immediately wraps his arms around her leg like a little monkey, effectively immobilizing her for a second.

‘’Let go, Luke.’’

‘’No!’’

It’s his new favorite words, so she probably shouldn’t be surprised.

‘’You told me yourself that Nan’s crying.’’ She says, trying to keep her voice calm, but instead just ends up sounding dead tired. ‘’You need to let me go, so I could take care of her.’’

‘’You’re with Nan always, play with me.’’

‘’Luke, we’ve talked about this-‘’

‘’No!’’

‘’Nan’s little, she needs me-‘’

‘’I’m little too!’’

He’s not, not really; he’s already the tallest in his daycare group and continues to shot up, which makes buying him clothes a never-ending nightmare. But he still has those chubby cheeks and baby curls, and still loves monopolizing attention like nothing else in the world, underfoot at all times. And Arya hasn’t got nearly enough energy to fight him on that, so instead of carrying out with the battle of stamina with a four-year-old, she hoists Luke up and settles him on her hip.

‘’We’ll go to Nan together, okay?’’

‘’And then we play?’’ he sniffles, raising his blue eyes to her and she finds herself mindlessly nodding in confirmation.

She steps on several Legos on her way, but Nancy’s crying so hard now, that she barely registers it. The only things she can really focus on, are the aching pressure in her breasts and the fact that she has just ruined yet another nursing bra with milk stains. Also, Luke’s very heavy in her arms, especially when he stops holding on and just sags like a ragdoll against her with his head thrown back and limp limbs.

She practically drops him on the armchair in the nursery, rushing to the crib. Nan has turned on her belly and her little black head bobs as she’s throwing a fit, her face all red from anger. Arya loves her children more than life itself, but she finds herself, more often than not, lamenting at her choice of their father. Reproducing with someone mild-mannered would surely at least dull her own less-desired characteristics and result in sweet, easy kids, like Sansa’s. But no – she had to go and pick the only guy in the world more stubborn than her. And then allow him to get her pregnant. Twice, as if Luke was not hard enough to handle on his own. The fool-proof tactic, truly.

The wailing dies down considerably when Arya reaches inside the crib and picks Nan up, holding her with one hand and unbuttoning her blouse with another. When she was breastfeeding Luke, she had to stuff her boob inside his mouth as if it was a hamburger and she’s glad that at least she does not need to re-live this experience. Nan latches onto her nipple instantly, making her wince from pain, but at least she’s not crying anymore; her little body relaxes in Arya’s arms and her eyelids shut close. Nan’s an awfully pretty baby and it’s a pleasure to look at her when she’s not screaming; but unfortunately, Arya does not take Luke into account as she drops down on the armchair.

She closes her eyes for a second. Just one, tiny second of bliss. And then-

Nan stops eating and lets out the most horrific, high-pitched yell Arya has ever heard in her life.

‘’Lucas!’’

Oh, she’s angry now. Truly and really.

Her son’s blushing red when he scrambles to the floor in a desperate attempt to run away, but Arya was a fencing champion in college. Her hand shots out and grabs his collar, yanking him back.

‘’Why did you do that?’’ she asks, bouncing Nancy up and down in a desperate attempt to calm her down. ‘’Why did you pinch her?’’

‘’You promised we’ll play!’’

‘’She had to finish-‘’

‘’I don’t like her!’’ Luke stomps his feet down loudly, still struggling to get free of Arya’s grip. ‘’I want her gone! It was better without her!’’

Arya swallows hard, loosening her fingers around the material of Luke’s shirt.

‘’Go to your room.’’ She commands weakly. ‘’We’ll talk about it later.’’

As Lucas runs away, she pushes her nipple back into Nancy’s mouth to silence her and takes a few deep breaths. She could go and punish Lucas, or better, she could go and talk to Lucas. But what she was supposed to say to him? Hey kid, I know that it was easier when you were an only child. But you know what? It was even easier when you were not here at all and it was just me and your dad!

She doesn’t even notice that she’s crying until Nan falls back asleep on her breast.

---------------------------------------------read more on ao3-------------------------------------

[elsb-hrngtons]

I Can Get You High (If You Want To Climb) Chapter 2

Barb/ Carol.. You’re welcome

links to AO3 in notes.

Gym class is arguably Barb’s worst class, straight A student in all other lessons, gym being the only one she’s barely scraping by with a C and it’s not hard to see why. There’s nothing worse than having to run laps around the track, ill fitting sports bar doing absolutely nothing to keep the girls in check, she gets out of breath just looking at the track let alone when she actually has to do laps, barley breaking into a sprint, sweating buckets chest heaving and almost giving herself a concussion with every stride. She’s long passed caring about her grade enough to actually put in 100 percent, only participates so she doesn’t get failed altogether, can’t have a fail, that would screw her plans for college up entirely.

Of course the physical excretion is nothing compared to the mandatory gym kit Hawkins high provides, a pale grey t-shirt that does absolutely nothing to hide the tidal wave of sweat gathering across the entirety of her torso, she’s always soaked through by the time the hours up, and of course those awful little shorts. She always wonders if the uniform was designed by some creepy man, who gets off watching young teenage girls in the shortest shorts possible, barely enough fabric to cover even the smallest girl’s butt cheeks, let alone Barb’s, with her hulking thighs that really test the limits of the shorts seams. Barb has always been slightly self conscious, gym class makes it worse, all she wants to do is get the class over and done with, sit on the bleachers and wait patiently while all the girls filter through and get showered and changed, before she can go in a change herself. Thank god it's the last class of the day, otherwise she'll have to weigh the pros and cons of being late to another class.

Today was dodgeball and god did Barb loathe dodgeball above all other things, firstly she’s easy pickings and all the other girls take advantage of that, even the girls supposedly in her team, secondly her aim is shit especially because it is not worth the risk to wear her glasses, having learnt that lesson the hard way freshman year, with a broken pair or brand new glasses and a rather dramatic trip to the nurses office to make sure she didn’t get glass in her eye. It’s not like Barb couldn’t see anything, more like everything was more hazy, all the girls running about in a blur of green and gray, the balls whizzing past in a flurry of angry orange, it also messed with her depth perception like crazy, which meant unfortunately she tripped over her feat, a lot more than she usually would, causing her classmates to snicker cruelly from all angles, it just wasn’t fair that she was subjected to this, why couldn’t she just scrap this class altogether?

She prepares herself to be pelted by the balls and to be eliminated at her earliest convenience, the less time she spends on the court the better, but today’s different, as the opposite team line up balls in hands ready to take aim, she braces herself for the inevitable sting of rubber slapping against flesh, except this time it never comes. She’s startled by a growl and a blur of auburn locks rushing up in front of her, Its Carol Perkins of all people, an impressive force of tiny fury, catching each ball mid air and launching them back with acute precision at the other team, within minutes she’s already eliminated half of the opposition and is showing no signs of slowing down, Barb is in absolute awe as she stands in astonishment, admiring how flawless Carol looks channeling all that aggression into the game. Unfortunately for Barb she’s dragged out from her stupor by a ball landing squarely in her stomach, knocking the wind right out of her, she doubles over in pain for a second before having to compose herself as quickly as possible and makes her way to the sidelines to watch what’s left of the game, or risk getting hit again. Carol continues her assault, seemingly spurred on even further by Barb being knocked out, unsurprisingly Carol is the last woman standing, expression alternating between angry scowl and smug grin as she gloats in her victory to the rest of the class. Barb thinks she see’s Carol spare a glance at her, offering her a small apologetic smile, but it’s so brief Barb concludes she must be hallucinating.

###

The locker rooms are literal hell for Barb, reluctant to get changed herself in front of the other girls, always paranoid she’ll get ridiculed for her weight, but honestly? That’s not even her biggest problem, no the thing she hates most about being surrounded by a class full of beautiful girls in various states of undress, is that she doesn’t hate it at all. She feels like such a peeping tom, surrounded by all this silky skin, firm breasts and while she tries to avert her eyes as much as she can she always catches herself lost in thought staring a little too intensely and a little too south than she is comfortable with, has to shake herself from her sinful thoughts, shove her head further into her locker a pray that this will all be over soon, or god himself will strike her down and put her out of her misery. She wishes things could be easy for her, that she wasn’t repulsed by the very idea of men, that she didn’t crave the touch of a soft delicate woman instead of being manhandled by the rough calloused hands of a man. Her only saving grace is as all her classmates file out, chattering away about their weekend plans, if none of them seem to notice her, or her longing gaze, she’s safe for now, left in the peaceful silence of an empty locker room.

With a heavy sigh of relief she makes her way to the showers towel in hand and shimmies her way out of her gym kit, ecstatic that she’s free of it for at least another 3 days at least, she turns on the spray lets the water get to temperature as she fights her way out of the constraints of her sweaty sports bra and panties, discards them in a heap on the tile out of reach from the running water. She steps into the spray, lets out a satisfied grown as the warm stream runs now her back soothing aching muscles as she stretches and cracks her stiff joints. She lets that small pleasure wash over her for a while, she’s in no rush to hurry out today, no plans on this ordinary Friday afternoon, or for the entirety of the weekend to be fair, maybe except her regularly scheduled phone call with Nancy on Sunday evening.

She gets lost in the quiet, only the sounds of the spray filling the room, finally free to daydream about creamy thighs and the curve of womanly hips, all alone in her own little bubble, which is why she’s startled by the sudden appearance of Carol, leaning casually against the entrance to the showers, still fully clothed in her gym gear and bright blue orbs starting with a laser focus directly into Barb’s soul. Carol has a dangerous smirk on her lips, the kind that makes Barb squirm with the paranoia that Carol can read minds and knows exactly what Barb was thinking about only seconds ago. Her paranoia is not calming down as Carol begins to stalk towards Barb, never breaking eye contact even as she lifts her gym shirt over her head, and steps out of her tiny shorts. Carol completely skips past her own shower head, instead stepping under Barb’s stream, all hunger and determination pouring out of her as she stalks forward like a predator and Barb’s her prey. Barb has nowhere to go but backwards, cornered into the wall, shivering at the loss of warmth for the shower, and burning all too hot from the press of Carol’s skin on hers. Barb is at least 9 inches taller than Carol, height not giving her any advantage as Carol cages her in, Carol even has to stand on her tiptoes just to place a chaste yet hungry kiss to Barb’s collar bone, ripping a full body shudder from her, completely incapable of controlling the flush creeping across her face and spreading eagerly down to her chest.

“Wha.. what are you doing Carol?” Barb stammers out. She’s a storm of confusion and panic and it really doesn’t help that Carol is currently burying her face in her cleavage, leaving little kisses in her wake, until she rests her chin on the shelf of Barb’s breasts and looks up eyes all faux innocence as she says

“What’s the matter Teddy Bear? Don’t you want me?” Carol actually pouts, feigning hurt and Barb melts, it’s like an instinct, the inexplicable need to comfort a pretty girl. With shaky arms Barb brings her hands to rest on Carol’s shoulders, leans her weight in fear of her legs giving way any minute, she’s overwhelmed with a conflict of emotions, she’s not stupid, she knows exactly what this means, what Carol is trying to do; heard all bout her little romp with Nancy, she just can’t figure out why Carol has any interest in her.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?” Carol asks. Still pouting and Barb is overcome with the need to kiss that put away.

“Why me?” Barb’s actually curious, why her? When Carol could have absolutely anyone she wants, she’s gorgeous and Barb has been told all her life, with the exception of maybe Nancy and her parents that she isn’t worth a second glance from anyone.

“Isn’t it obvious Teddy Bear?” that pet name does something to Barb, she should be annoyed, instead she finds herself quite fond of it, never wanting Carol to stop calling her it. Barb shakes her head, she really is at a loss. “You’re beautiful baby” Carol purrs and she runs her hands across the expanse of Barb’s sides, brings them round to rest her palms against the small of Barb’s back, uses the new angle as leverage to pull them closer together, as she begins peppering kisses all over Barb’s chest. “So pretty, gorgeous” Barb can’t help but scoff at that, no one has ever called her beautiful before. “It’s true! Let me show you just how beautiful I think you are baby?”

If Barb were not being held up by Carol’s knee bullying its way between Barb’s thighs she would have been a puddle on the floor because of Carol’s words alone, how could she possibly deny a beautiful girl showering her in compliments an affection, it’s not like she doesn’t function like everybody else on this godforsaken planet, she needs the validation just as much as the next person, and surprisingly to her she kinda gets off on it too, and if Carol’s actions are anything to go by, she gets off on giving them too. Carol leans up trying to reach Barb’s lips has to almost climb the length of Barb’s body to get even a little bit close, Barb gets with the picture and bends at the knees to meet her half way, their lips smash together clumsily, teeth clacking together in a desperate bid to brush against each other, its awkward but not awful and soon they find their rhythm, Carol deepening the kiss by licking her way into Barb’s mouth, sucking at her bottom lip and catching it with her teeth, it’s obscene and it lights Barb’s whole body on fire with desire and need, what she needs she doesn’t really know, but Carol seems to know what she’s doing, asserting her dominance with practised finesse as she uses her mouth to explore every inch of Barb’s skin, lips sliding across her across the shoulders and down her chest, until Carol sinks to her knees and gently paws at Barb’s thighs pushing them open to allow access.

Before Barb can even process what’s happening Carol’s nose is nuzzling its way through the course reddish hair that grows unruly atop Barb’s mound, she seems to revel in the sent and she uses her nails to lightly scratch at the backs of Barb’s thighs, inhaling deeply and sighing as if its the sweetest sent she’s ever smelt, maybe it is Barb really wouldn’t know, too ashamed to even touch herself down there.

Just when Barb thinks she can’t take the anticipation any more Carol dives in, goes straight for the gold and swipes her tongue across and around Barb’s clit with what Barb can only assume is  practised  precision. Barb yelps out at the sudden jolts of pleasure that shoot all through her veins, like sparks of electricity about to light a tinder box completely aflame. Carol’s tongue continues its exploration, licking through Barb’s folds, darting out and teasing her hole, she can feel herself gush and it’s embarrassing but Carol moans lewdly as her tongue laps up the evidence of Barb’s excitement. Her tongue peaks its way back up to Barb’s hood, lightly grazing against Barb’s bundle of nerves, causing her to twitch and her hips it involuntarily thrust, Carol’s hands creep their way up to Barb’s hips and press her flush to to the wall as she continues ministrations. Barb has to scramble for purchase to keep herself right, one hand desperately clinging to the top of Carol’s head to keep her balance the other flying to her mouth to muffle frankly pornographic noises she’s making without her consent. She can feel everything building, like a glass of water getting filled bit by bit and she’s so close to spilling over it’s almost painful, all it takes is for a well timed suckle of her clit from Carol and Barb is screaming out, hand doing absolutely nothing to silence the sounds of her pleasure now her orgasm is wreaking havoc on her body, she’s shaking all over, wave after wave of intense feeling crashing over she’s sure she’ll black out, before she can catch herself she sinks to the ground, still reeling from the aftershocks of the most mind blowing thing to ever happen to her. Carol catches Barb on her way down, cradles her as she leans against Carol’s shoulder, almost sobbing from being so overwhelmed. Carol pets through her hair, massaging and scratching lightly at her scalp and cooing quietly in her ear between a spattering of kisses across her cheek.

“You were so good Teddy Bear, so good for me”

Barb feels sleepy, could drift off right here she’s in such a daze, doesn't really register as Carol props her against the wall and reaches up form the soap, only jumps slightly in surprise as glides its across her body to clean her, it’s oddly gentle and far more intimate than what just transpired, Barb has completely lost the use of all her limbs so just sits there quietly as Carol washes her thoroughly and oh so sweetly all the while murmuring pretty little words and praises about how good Barb was. Once Carol is done cleaning the both of them she helps Barb to her feet and leans up to plant one last kiss to Barb’s cheek.

“That was fun Teddy Bear, can’t wait to do that again.” and with that she’s spins around and struts out of the showers grabbing a towel on her way out, leaving Barb completely speechless, her head spinning with all the possibilities of what again really means.

[t4tbruharvey]

dont get me started on giselle's outfits in enchanted - tam :P

THANK YOU TAM ILY

boooooo it deleted my initial response. trying again.

the outfits giselle wears in enchanted (except the last two? i believe?) can be categorised with two styles/periods: 1830s and regency.

the first dress is sort-of regency sort-of medieval, with disney embellishments. it’s fairly form-fitting at the top and flares more further down (medieval), but it’s got a very low neckline and an empire waist (regency), plus see-through sleeves and a long ribbon (disney, but the ribbon can be medieval if you’re being nice.) (it’s also very pink and has no apparent panels or seams, which is both disney and regency.) (plus her hair is down, which is solely disney and very impractical, but that’s a rant for another time)

the second dress, however, in silhouette alone, is an 1830s dress: it has a massive skirt and giant sleeve puff things, and the waist is more or less where the natural waist is. it was the 200s. i’ll let it slide. in colour (sparkly white) and cut of the skirt (weird off centre parting thing!! i really do hate that!) it’s very disney.

BUT by the time we’re at dress number three we are BACK to regency-style clothing, with short puffy sleeves and an empire waist and a low neckline. the ONLY thing that’s keeping this not solely a regency imitation is the panel(?) in the front of the skirt, which is much more reminiscent of pretty much every earlier period (except, funnily enough, medieval styles.) i guess also the neckline isn’t very regency-esque but the bra-cup-thing is a disney thing i assume.

(and then the next two dresses are kind of ugly. like the short one with the flowers? gross. waist should be at the natural waist and the skirt is too bell-shaped to look nice. the dress she wears to the ball? disgusting. abhorrent. i hate it so much i can’t believe that was the big reveal.)

WHICH BEGS THE QUESTION: what the FUCK period is andulasia meant to parallel? the answer is none of htem, obviously, as this is a disney movie and disney doesn’t do research. BUT if i can be pedantic (and i can) i’m going to look at the other clothes people wear there.

(sidenote: the dress nancy wears at the ball is prety much completely accurate for, like, what i think is the georgian era? in any case it’s got 3/4 length sleeves, a wide skirt at the hips, a flat low neckline and a crap ton of lace. basically it’s like the best thing in the movie it made me very very happy, even if it’s not the prettiest in colour)

okay so i was going to look at the evil queen’s dresses next and see if that told me anything but NOPE! cannot put a period on that if i tried. it’s just Evil™ bits. like it looks nice and she’s very cool but holy shit what is that

which leaves like three more possible routes to take: nancy at her wedding (pretty much exactly the same as giselle), edward, and nathaniel.

EDWARD i have no clue about, since i know next to nothing about men’s historical fashion, and also because i think they were just going for over the top sleeves with that one. NATHANIEL, however, i can get to a single decade based on the trousers alone (1650s). i’m not going to assume that’s completely correct, but if i were to make a broad guess i would say he’s vaguely early modern.

so where does that leave us? literally nowhere. i don’t know how hard it would’ve been for disney to choose a silhouette and stick to it? i really don’t. like the long loose dress is fine; the giant hoop skirt is fine. both of them together? with nathaniel fitting into neither of those time periods? horrible and awful. also it was made in the 2000s, which was the worst 10 years for fashion literally ever.

[stone-man-warrior]

August 9, 2018: 5:18 pm:

August 9, 2018: 1:03 pm:<br><br>Observations at the Wal-Mart:<br><br>I go to ... StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T16:58:26-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-09T20:18:02-0400

August 9, 2018: 1:03 pm: Observations at the Wal-Mart: I go to the Wal-Mart, or to the Fred Meyer's grocery store in Grants Pass Oregon to shop for food every ten days or so. The shopping for groceries experience is a life-or-death activity for Americans. Sometimes, the shopping experience includes that I will be confronted by some famous person at the store, and when that happens, things become very real... I have been confronted by Ted Nugent, Robert Duval... ========================= Incoming call from American Medical Response assassin cart drivers just now. Thursday: 1:10 pm. The AMR cart Driver service is sponsored by the Oregon State Government assassination squad in Salem Oregon from the offices of Kate Brown, Governor. ========================= ... Sarah Palin; Kid Rock; members of the cast of Cheers; members of the cast of The Office; Shelley Long; George Wendt; Barack Obama (during his tenure); Dick Cheney; Ann and Nancy Wilson more than once; Sarah Huckabee; Ted Danson; Jay Leno; David Letterman' Slash; Axle Rose; and a variety show of others. I have been doing this for a long time and the shenanigans just don't  seem to surprise me anymore. When the famous people show up, it means there is a snuff movie being made and I am the star of the show. When that happens, those are famous snuff movie makers, and have a very large, crafty, and secretively stealth entourage of support people, film and sound engineers, make-up crew and private security detail. Some of the famous snuff movie SAG members have deemed these events as "Celebrity Death Match" and are exactly that... and are filmed. If the truth ever is found, there will be a large collection of snuff movies that shoe a fight with various weapons between myself, and some famous asshole who has a team of assassins to help kill me, except that in these snuff movies, it will be shown that a lot of famous people are dead and were killed on film in a "Celebrity Death Match" that backfired. Today, right now, there are at least one hundred very famous SAG members who are indeed deceased, yet somehow, continue to live, and entertain. Tom Petty was one such person associated with Celebrity Death Match Snuff Movie making service. Mr. Petty died recently, last year, for the second time. If Tome Petty were to be famous for his most outstanding achievement, it would have to be that he is a man who managed to die twice. Two times. Duplicate Death Service. He died once in about 2010, and he died again in 2017. It must be a miracle. With that said, today, there are a number of famous people who are dead, yet still entertain, and for all intents and purposes are alive and well. In other words, there ar a lot of impostors in the SAG who will also die again someday. Ok, well I did not intend to write about all of that, but there you go. Do what ever you like with the information. I wanted to write about observances at the Wal-Mart. At Wal-Mart, there is a men's clothing department. In the clothing department there are pants for sale. There are a lot of pants at the Wal-Mart, all hanging neatly on the racks for dispaly... dys-play... The pants on the racks are size 40 waist and above. There are a few pairs of pants that are 38 waist. And a couple, two, three, 36 waist size. In a sea of pants, hundreds of pairs of pants, there are no size 31, 32, 33, 34, waist size pants. None. Zero pants in the men's clothing department that will fit any normal sized man. It has been that way for many years. They have excuses when questioned about it. The excuse is that all of the pants in normal size have sold out, and these are what is left, that I should come back and try looking again later after a new shipment arrives. =================================================== Pissed-off rant complete with cuss words and throwing of objects. =================================================== All they have available at the Wal-Mart is World-Wide-Pants. Hello? Anyone? Doughnuts and coffee? Popcorn and Jujubees? How about a Tonight Show Coffee Cup with Jay Leno's Autograph on it? How about David Letterman's Autograph? What if they just signed it instead? Would you do some ant-terrorist work then? Dickhead, yeast infected Virginia! Agent Smart... agent 86. Agent 99. Chaos. Now is a real good time to do some anti-terrorist work. The very best and most helpful way that agents from Langley could help, is to step the fuck out of the way, have fucking doughnut so you can fit into the available pants at the Wal-mart, and let the US Military do what they do... Let them bomb the living daylight out of Hollywood so we can put this mess back together. ============================================== I look at pants almost every time I go to Dystopian Wal-Mart. There are never any normal size pants. I know why there are no normal sized pants at the Wal-Mart now. It's because that in Socio-terrific Dystopia, here in Oregon, no one needs to purchase pants. The terrorists get what they need given to them. The clothes are handed out as needed by the soldiers. The normal size pants are taken to the church, most likely the one on 9th street in Grants Pass, and distributed to soldiers there. No one needs to purchase food either, instead, soldier Seventh Day Adventist Screen Actor Guild Vatican terrorists have private buffet, they can go there and eat whatever they want twice per day. But no buys food at the store. Anyone attempting to purchase food, clothing or anything at all at the Wal-Mart will be marked as an outsider and singled out for extermination services, like I have been. In the women's clothing department. There are isles and isles of shelves and racks stacked way up high... of braziers. There must be 10,000 Braziers available at the Wal-Mart in every shape, size, configuration and color option imaginable. There are so many braziers, because all of the American Women have been exterminated. Dead women don't use braziers. and that is why they have so many. They have to keep the inventory at the store a certain way so that it does not raise concerns with corporate offices, so, they still have to order more braziers, even though there are no breasts for the braziers to support. The terrorists have killed all of the American women, and no one cares. No one ever answers the cries for help... no one cares. If anti-terrorist agents would go there, to the brazier department and pick up a few bra's, then, they could take those bra's to their favorite movie actress or rock star, or public official and get a FUCKING AUTOGRAPH put on the braziers they  take. Then, at least, there would be some real FUCKING BOOBS to look at when the top blows off of the Pent-A-gone. You asshole! It's a partridge in a pair tree. You Asshole Ant-terrorist agents killed all the women because you did not know how to do your fucking job! Yeah... I am pissed off! Everyone knows what the fuck is happening except the people who are supposed to know. EVERYONE! Even the women who are forced into doing pornography have been trying to send you assholes a fucking clue, they gave you a web site called BRAZZERS... you idiots! It's a CRY FOR HELP! And, it means go to the store, it does not matter what store, just go, have look around, see anything you like? here... see these? These are my boobs... now go to the store, look around, can you help? Don't you notice something hanging right in your face you idiot? Look at the girl in the next Chatterbate booth you fucking pedophile anti-terrorist agent... she has boobs too... now go to the store, have a look around, but FOR GODS SAKE DON"T TELL ANyONE THAT I TOLD YOU TO LOOK AT BRAZIERS! because they will kill us, all of us, even the ones that did not say anything, we will all be killed if you say we sent you to the store to look at the inventory of bra's. They will just get new women to do the porn. Most of the women and girls that are doing the pornography are hero's. They are forced to it in ways the anti=terrorist agents don't understand. You cannot purchase food. One more time, Americans cannot purchase food at the grocery store. That means, that when someone, such as a young girl, young American girl, like your daughter for instance, when she tries to buy food, she is subject to a facefull of Nitrous oxide mixed with Versed airborne gas and is carried away, never to be seen or heard from again. Except on the Porn channels. There, these girls do whatever they are able to do in hopes of being rescued. They have no choices because they cannot purchase food in a society that requires money earned from income of a job that can be used to trade in exchange for food at the grocery store. Think about it. Society; money; purchase; necessities, choices; no choices; captivity; porn; please help. Look at these? Please? Look? I can give you the name of one super hero in porn that you will not understand because you are an idiot anti-terrorist agent chasing dark skinned people with black beards. Her name is Roxy Raye. If you watch Roxy Raye, then you know exactly how the terrorists are doing what they do. If you do not protect her, she will disappear as a result of this explanation. I hope you will choose to protect miss Raye. She knows more about terrorism than any one in the entire state of Virginia. ============================================ World Wide Pants: Founder: David Letterman Founded: 1991 Headquarters: New York City, NY Number of employees: 70 (2007) Type of business: Production company ============================================

Shared with: Public

+1'd by: Ha Nguyen Thi, Hazel Ramirez, Jason Hickmon

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T18:01:30-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-09T18:04:36-0400

August 9. 2018: 2:46 ppm: The entry above explains a whole bunch of things, it does not explain things very well, but I have no training in this, so, blow me. Here is what I think is going to happen as a result of what I wrote above. First, Miss Raye will be in danger, and possibley will never be seen or heard from again. Then, Donald J. Trump will meet with his advisers, and on the recommendation of John Bolton, the USA will bomb Syria. Again. That is how it works in the White House, Toon-Town Terror patrol. When someone explains that in Seventh Day Adventist secret code language, the word "Lettuce" means "Labia", which is part of a Vagina, then, after the explanatory jargon is digested, the agents who attempted to decipher the code come to the conclusion that there are seven days left to act in order to protect the Syrian people from a gas attack from Lybia. Muammar Gaddafi and his deceased one year old son will suddenly be reincarnated and deemed a threat to the existence of human life on Earth and Arnold Schwarzenegger will be consulted for further intel. After that, the USA bombs Syria. It;s embarrassing though, because they came to the conclusion that it was Lybia that was supposed to have been bombed, and it was all because there was some idiot who could not figure out that a camel-toe has nothing to do with the humps of a desert dwelling beast. Syria will be bombed within twenty four hours of this post, and miss Raye will vanish. The people from Virginia should save Miss Raye, Syria is already fucked.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T19:33:08-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-10T00:28:18-0400

August 9. 2018: 3:45 pm: As follows: Easement Brigade: Easement Brigade is a Sub-Flocking-Terrorist-Cancer-Cell. A specialized group of terrorist soldiers who use Easements on the property of selected target victims. The "Easement-Brigade" is a term I made up in order to think about what they do, a tool, the term is not likely to have been heard, and is my own invention, coined so that I can make notable reference for careful thought. If the term Easement Brigade is heard by anyone else but me, it means that said information was HACKED FROM MY EMAIL AT YAHOO. The Easement Brigade is a group that is associated with the following other groups, and the members of the sub-group belong to these other groups as a home base sort of group... OK? Grocery Outlet Pacific Power and Light Grants Pass Community Church Grants Pass Rural-Metro Fire Service Taylor's Sausage Federal Department of Fish and Game Oregon State Department of Wildlife: Medford Federal Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ): Medford Federal Bureau of Land Management (BLM): Medford Others....Members of.these organizations compose the Easement Brigade when in Easement Brigade Modality. (the list above is not a joke or an exaggeration. It brings me great sorrow and grief to know that this information is discounted by anti-terrorist agencies. This information is very difficult to obtain, and dangerous to report here. Great sorrow, but not as much grief and sorrow as the victims who have been violently killed by these people, These people do extremely violent and cruel killing activities. Not like the Seventh Day Adventists who just use a Sword.) The Easement Brigade is headed by Francis Taylor of 600 "MyStreet". Ms. Taylor works closely with her husband Richard Taylor. Together they form the heart of the group. Easement Brigade encroachments are bold. Any targeted Victim who has a power line easement, property line easement, wildlife creek easement, or any other kind of measurable, and enforceable area that is used to provide emergency or other warranted access to a property is fair game for Easement Brigade encroachment. The Easement Brigade encroaches on a property and waits until the victim sees them there. Then, they insist that they have a right to be there, they sometimes bring fishing poles and will pretend to be fishing in the creek of an intended victim. Francis and Richard Taylor have a double barrel side-by-side breach barrel shotgun that they use to kill people who ask them to stop fishing in the creek areas around their homes. Not many terrorists use firearms so outwardly and visable, the Taylor's are an exception to the rules. Easement Brigade was here, doing encroachment terrorist activities as follows: Terrorist assassin at 520 "MyStreet" in the woods in the Creek Easement was launched into orbit, and presumably part of a Ford Ranger pick-up truck assassin tank commander parked on the road by the mailboxes. Tank commander assassins are recognizable by the gigantic head phones they wear for listening to com, and has a around the face microphone built in like a headset for a tank commander. It is a terrorist uniform designed to discredit anyone who reports that someone who looks like a tank commander is stalking them. It's effective. Also, Richard Taylor's Large Blue Four Door Sedan drove past my driveway to get visual information as to my position in my yard post encroachment terrorist launching from the Creek Easement. Richard Taylor, I thought, was dead. So who is driving the Blue Sedan is not known. Mr, Taylor is known as "The Garden Gnome" when I need to make reference to him because of his insistence on just sitting somewhere in my yard and claiming he has a right to be there because of the easement That is all I have on today's encroachment by Easement Brigade. Francis and Richard Taylor of 600 "MyStreet" also belong to another more specialized group of assassins that do "Whale Hunting" Service. I don't have a name for them except perhaps Moby-Dick. This will not be believable, so I am going to write about briefly. The Taylors have a Ford Econoline Old Van. The van has a metal screened cage inside that separates the cargo area from the cab area. The van has no door knobs in the cargo area, and if someone is in the cargo area of the Taylor's van, they cannot get out of it. The van has anchoring devices built onto the framework of the undercarriage. The anchoring devices lock into the ground at predetermined places where the anchoring devices have been prepaired for fit. There is one anchoring device at each corner of the old Econoline van. There is a large harpoon that can be secured inside the van. The van with harpoon projectile is set up at whale hunting locations, pre set for anchoring. Whales are American Citizens driving past the Taylor's pre-set whale hunting locations such as the one at the bottom of the Interstate 5 Freeway exit number 55 Southbound on the left hand side at the stop sign there. The harpoon is large and there is a basket that contains the coiled cable that is attached to the harpoon projectile. . The van is anchored in place. The targeted victim drives past. The harpoon is sent downrange. The harpoon hits the door of the car of the victim and impales the victim through the door. The coiled cable reaches maximum length, the van anchors keep the van in place. The victim is violently pulled through the door of the automobile they are driving. The door comes off the car sometimes. The harpoon is barbed. Other people nearby crash. It turns into the "Making of Ben Hur" because it is all filmed for entertainment by those in Government, Screen Actor Guild Members, and rock stars. Terrorists profit. Americans are killed violently. Hollywood entertainers are entertained. Government officials are satisfied. And French American Republic Territory is advanced for followers of Mitt Romney and Justin Trudeau. This is real terrorism, not the kind that is presented on television. If you want television terrorism, turn the television on to your favorite News agency and watch the "Daily Catastrophe'. It was put there for you so you won't have to worry about the real terrorism that I report here on this page. Did the USA bomb Syria Yet today? I haven't watched any network news today on YouTube so I don't know.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T20:36:49-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-09T21:21:56-0400

August 9, 2018: 5:35 pm:

This is the head yeast infection. Secretary Kirstjen M. Nielsen (Official Photo) Department of Homeland Security This White Skinned Seventh Day Adventist Screen Actor Guild Vatican Terrorist Soldier Commander Blonde BOMBSHELL with Good Hair and Nice Looking Fingernails is responsible for carrying out orders from Terrorist Commander Screen Actor Guild Vatican Leader Donald J. Trump for Bomb Syria Cover Service Operations and is Also in Charge of Extermination of American Women at the Wal-Mart Service Providers. This Woman has a tank filled with Nitrous Oxide mixed with Versed Airborne Poison Gas Up Her Ass at all Times. This is a very dangerous person. Fight terrorism with a Bic Lighter and Watch as she Bursts into Bits, or is Launched into Orbit. There are more like her. Use Caution.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T21:54:32-0400

Once again, this is the head Pedavore: . Betsey DaVose: US Secretary of Education Chief. I have no words for this Except that she is another Vatican operative in the White House and carries a tank of Nitrous Oxide mixed with Versed Airborne Poison Gas up her Ass at all times. Fight terrorism with a Bic Lighter and watch as she Bursts into Bits, or is Launched into Orbit.

StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-09T23:55:16-0400

August 9, 2018: 8:37 pm: The articles below are an excerpt from today's email correspondence to me from the White House Press Department regarding prison reform in the USA. ====================================================== The startling facts about America’s prison system Following successful bipartisan passage of the FIRST STEP Act in the House of Representatives, President Trump is hosting a roundtable with a number of America’s governors today to discuss implementing prison reform in their states. President Trump supports efforts to reduce recidivism—the return of former inmates to prison—as a way to make America’s streets safer. The Administration has worked closely with Congress to find a solution that reduces crime, enhances public safety, and increases opportunity for those who have earned a second chance. “The facts about America’s prison system are startling,” Senior Advisor Jared Kushner wrote in The Wall Street Journal in April. “The U.S. has 4% of the world’s population, but roughly 25% of the world’s prisoners. . . . Of the 650,000 people who leave prison every year, two-thirds will commit a new crime within three years.” The bottom line, says Kushner: “President Trump promised to fight for the forgotten men and women of this country—and that includes those in prison.” ==================================================== This news about prison systems in the USA from the White House suggests to me that the prison industry is exactly that. Reading between the lines tells me that there is a lot of money to be made by contracting with the federal government to hold people in a prison. With such an idea being true, and the prison system being an industry that profits, then, there is no incentive in the courtrooms to provide a fair trial for those people who have been arrested for crimes. I know that the State Police are impostors, I also know that the Courthouse where I live is filled with impostors and crooks who should be in prison themselves. What we have here is a situation whereby the criminals have hijacked the legal system and they have found a way to profit through imprisonment of innocent people. Not only that, but with a profit in mind per inmate, then, how is anyone who is inside a prison ever going to be treated fairly upon revue and consideration for release? This is another way the terrorists are winning. Innocent people being sent to prison so that Donald j. Trump and his Vatican friends can make a profit through imprisoning innocent people. How do we know that when the bill for the imprisonment services is rendered, that the individual subjects of the paying system are accounted for and are in good health? The only view we have into a prison, is the view granted from the Screen Actor Guild Media. So, it has to be Fake.StoneMan .Warrior - 2018-08-10T01:49:23-0400 - Updated: 2018-08-10T04:48:07-0400August 9, 2018: 10:45 pm: I am getting vibes from the sources that there is a boat of interest somewhere. An important boat or the vibes would not be there. There could be some kind of plan to steal, or damage a Navy ship, like when the McCain and the Fitzgerald were attacked with cargo ships that were loaded with Nitrous Oxide and the boats collided. maybe like that. The vibes are subtle, and secretive, and complicated, Not too complicated to say that the vibes are there. The vibes point to a space sort of idea. If I had to guess to protect something and was not even sure about what I was protecting, I would watch the USS Columbia: Los Angeles CA: SSN=771, just a little closer than usual. The inclination I am having about this boat interest includes that there are three of something. Three knobs. Three items. Three. Also, French style mustache, thin, separated, two sides of the same thing. Possibly if the boat inclination is correct, then perhaps there are three impostors on-board the boat. That is all I have on that.

[cluefound-blog]

meta  003    :    wardrobe   .        so  i’ve  been  procrastinating  on  this  for  some  time   ,   simply  because  i  have  no  idea  how  i’d  start  it  or  not   .     i’m  still  looking  up  photos  for  this   ,   so  it  may  be  a  little  incomplete   .     ANYWAYS     --------------------     i’ve  spoken  so  many  times  about  nancy’s  wardrobe   ,   i’m  sure  everyone’s  seen  them    :    nancy’s  soft  in  wardrobe   ,   with  a  dash  of  something  vintage    &    even  something  extremely  fancy    &    over  the  top   .     this  meta  will  be  split  into  three  sections    :    everday   ,   underneath    &    formal   -   wear   .

001   .     EVERYDAY  WARDROBE    +    ACCESSORIES   .       

nancy’s  everyday  wear  is  basically  as  stated  above    :    a  touch  of  50s  vintage    &    fancy  shit   .     she  owns  lots  of  skirts    &    i’ve  said  before   ,   nancy  only  owns  one  pair  of  pants   .     (   x   )     everything  else  is  made  of  dresses   ,   skirts    &    other  things   .       (     here  are  some  really  nancy   -   vibin  outfits  btw     )

1.1   .       the  skirts  she  wears  while  working  are  usually  a   -   line   ,   falling  a  bit  above  the  knee    (   x   )    ,   then  she  owns  those  corduroy  skirts  in  every  color   .     nancy  does  own  a  few  longer  skirts   ,   but  they’re  usually  worn  when  not  on  a  case   .     she  also  owns  a  couple  of  high   -   waisted  skirts  which  were  acquired    &    only  worn  once   ,   as  well  as  those  poofy  skirts  with  some  type  of  design  on  them    (   x   ,   x   ) 1.2   .       nancy’s  dresses  are  all  vintage   ,   most  of  them  inspired  by  the  50s   .     their  skirts  are  full   ,   collars  dipping  semi   -   low    (    x    )    &    they’re  all  printed   .       only  a  few  of  them  are  less  full    &    a  bit  more  flitting   ,   but  still  airy    &    light     (   x   ,   x   )     .     her  cocktail  dresses  are  more  form   -   fitting   ,   hitting  the  pin   -   up  style  more   ,   rarely  flaring  around  the  waist   .     (   x   ,   x   ) 1.3   .     as  for  accessories   ,   nancy  wears  very  little  jewelry  in  her  everyday  attire   .     she  has  both  ears  pierced  twice  on  the  lobe    &    she  usually  wears  either  pearl  studs  or  small  hooped  earrings  with  diamonds  encrusted  into  them   .     the  one  necklace  that  she  wears  normally  is  a  three   -   pearl  pendant  on  a  single  chain   .

002   .     UNDERNEATH    +    INTIMATES   .       

i’m  not  gonna  spend  too  much  time  on  this  section   ,   specifically  because  i’m  not  too  interested  in  talking  heavily  on  what  nancy  wears  underneath  her  clothing    &    to  bed   ,   plus  no  one’s  ever  gonna  see  it  unless  they’re  like  at    that    level  of  intimacy  so  like  yeah   .     i’ve  said  already  that  nancy’s  intimates    &    shit  are   almost  exclusively  silk  things   .

1.1   .       for  nightwear   ,   nancy  wears  silk  nightwear    (   x   ,   x    )   .     that’s  literally what  her  closet  is  made  of   ,   when  one  gets  to  the  nightwear  section  of  her  closet   .       &    you  know  her  ass  has  one  of  those  sheer  dressing  gowns  with  the  faux  fur  trims  on  the  sleeves    !     (     x    )       when  it  comes  to  intimates    /    underwear   ,   she’s  got  lace  bras    &    panty  sets   .       (   x   )

003   .     FORMAL   -   WEAR   .       

ughhhh  okay     !       this  is  where  i  really  found  all  my  sources    &    really  went  all  out    !!!!!       nancy  wears  so  much  haute  couture  shit   ,   so  there’s  gonna  be  a  lot  of  that    -------    she  probably  spends  a  good  amount  of  money  on  formal   -   wear   ,   simply  because  she’s  always  going  to  galas    &    charity  events    &    whatever  else  her  father  needs  her  to  go   .

1.1   .       nancy’s  a  fan  of  elie  saab’s  designs   ,   so  i  imagine  she’d  have  a  lot  of  his  stuff   .     the  dresses  she  has  from  him  are  usually  the  longer  ones   ,   more  slim  around  the  waist   .     (   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   )     then  there  are  shorter  dresses   ,   but  she  has  few  of  these   .     then  there’s  ziad  naked   ,   with  gowns  that  flow  more  below  the  waist   .       (    x   ,   x   ,   x   ,   x   )

[just-a-wayward-son-carrying-on]

Pain

So this is my first official fanfic EVER! We’ll see how it actually turned out since I got kind of lazy toward the end and I got so caught up in the platonic relationships I forgot about my romance! Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, reader (and 5 original characters I guess) Pairing: Dean x reader Warnings: mentions of murder, smut-ish, fluff maybe? I don’t really know-if you’re sensitive proceed with caution Words: 3623 Y/N “Why does it hurt so much?” you whimpered into Sam’s chest. “Because it was real,” He replied, patting your hair. “It wasn’t supposed to be. It was supposed to be an adventure,” You pulled back from his embrace, “God, how did I let myself love you guys so much?” “Come on Y/N it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could’ve done to stop it.” You gave Sam a weak smile, “Thank you…for everything.” There wasn’t much you hadn’t been through in the past five years. One thing was for certain, this wasn’t the first time Sam had helped you heal heartbreak–only this time you couldn’t go slash a guy’s tires or egg a guy’s house. From near death experiences to love triangles you’d been there, done that. “Don’t mention it. And you have my number if you need anything?” “Yeah. Good-bye Sam Winchester, it’s been a pleasure,” you extended your hand to him. He shook it and smiled. Tears streamed down your cheeks, from the ache in your chest and from this farwell. Before you could change your mind you spun on your heel and boarded the plane. The flight attendant went through the safety procedures before allowing you to take out your past times. You got a book out and started reading, your only mistake was bringing a tragic love story. You bawled the entire seven hour flight from Minnesota to Manhattan. You hailed a cab upon landing and was able to safely make it to your rented apartment. It was in Chelsea with a gorgeous view. This was your turf, you knew it like the back of your hand. Your sister rented the apartment alone after you left with the Winchesters but before that you roomed together. It was surprising nice to walk into the familiar place and hug her again. Of course she already knew the whole story so she didn’t antagonize you when she found your super sappy story in your luggage. You still got a very disapproving glare though. Not much could make you feel worse than you already did and the half-hearted disapproval from her didn’t do the trick, much to her dismay. Although you knew you had responsibilities, paying your half of the rent, helping put food on the table, you allowed yourself to wallow in self-pity and self-hatred. You blamed yourself for letting Sam get hurt on that hunt. You blamed yourself for not being good enough for Dean. You blamed yourself for Dean’s dangerous life even if you couldn’t control it. Six weeks later your sister managed to coax you out of bed much less the house for the first time. She was in a stunning black dress fitted to her every curve; and she managed to slip you into a shimmering gold thing with thin straps and a plunging neckline. Rather than veg out on ice cream and various other comfort foods, you barely ate at all during your exile in bed; so rather than gain weight you lost it and it showed. The slightly fitted dress showed your hip bones and collar bone through it. Thankfully it hid any sign of your ribs. You managed to walk in your six inch pumps, and dance, and eventually follow a man home. You were pretty sure his name was Matt but it was difficult to be sure in your drunken state. You vaguely remembered that you prepared yourself for the walk of shame the next morning on that stumble through the streets. You were right. You walked home barefoot and completely drained. When you slipped into the apartment you found Grace passed out on the sofa in a lacey black bra and pants. No one else was in the rooms and she claimed that she returned alone last night. After that detail you didn’t ask anymore. The following day you went out and looked for a job. A place a few blocks from you was hiring a waitress so you went for it. You also applied for a job at McDonalds and a Starbucks down the street. The waitressing paid the most so when they accepted, you happily started right away. Within two months you were back on your feet and happy. It was insane how nice it was to have distance between yourself and the supernatural world. The clubs around us were not bad encouragement either. Family came to visit for the holidays and you were making just enough money to pay rent, buy food, and occasionally purchase a new outfit or two. Grace was the one with the real job and she made sure you knew she was technically the responsible one. “You know, Y/N, at the firm they helped us prepare by creating a calendar to help manage our time.” She patronized. You didn’t mind, actually, you were overjoyed at her success. Her friends became your friends and you all had a wonderful time. You all had different jobs, Ethan was an actor, Hope was an optometrist, Danny was an exterminator, and Chad worked for a radio company while Grace was close to becoming junior partner at a big law firm. You were all over the board. It was all close to perfect until the day Danny came in complaining about an all too familiar story. “It was so weird. Whatever it is ripped the raccoon to shreds. It’s not my division so I don’t know exactly what it could be.” She exclaimed one day, “The chest was torn open and the ears were ripped off. That was it. It wasn’t like it was mauled or anything. It almost seemed deliberate. I don’t know, it sounds crazy right?” “No, no, not weird at all,” you remember saying while in your mind going “No, no, can’t be, we killed this thing last spring!” If you were guessing correctly it was a Gray Guatemalan Iguana. Only one in the universe and last year it killed more than eighty small pets, wild animals, and children; always eating their right lung and their ears. “Hey, do you think I could see it sometime? Where it happened I mean. Cause Grace likes to go for runs over there I think. It would make me more comfortable if I could check it out to make sure it’s safe.” you were astonished how easily lying came to you still. “Sure I’ll take you over tomorrow.” Danielle winked at you as she got up. {~} The next day was your day off, which you normally spent partially naked, partially covered in food crumbs watching awful soap operas on the couch. Instead you put on leggings, a nice t-shirt with a black windbreaker and some rainboots. When Danny showed up to take you to a more suburban neighborhood you were ready for anything; you had slipped a kitchen knife into your waistband and had a can of pepper spray in your pocket, not that the pepper spray would help anything against this animal. You also dug up one of your old FBI badges for good luck. You pulled up to a picture perfect street with picket fenced houses and minivan-washing dads forty minutes later. Not a lot of people were out, most were inside after the raccoon attack probably. The closer you got the more the yellow crime scene tape came into focus. Danny jumped out of the car and ran to the edge with you on her heels. “What happened?” Danny exclaimed to a policeman when we got to the edge of the tape. “I’m sorry, miss. I can’t disclose any vital information this early into the investigation.” He said in a monotone voice. “She was the exterminator for the attack on the raccoon yesterday,” You stated with authority peering around the man to get a look at the crime scene, “This child,” You continued gesturing to the small body bag and outline of a small body on the pavement, “was it missing its ears? With the chest ripped open?” The policeman stared at you with an open mouth. He turned and waved over a slightly older policeman. “Chief Hamilton, how do you do, ladies?” He stuck out his hand once he had gotten close enough. “I’m Nancy Bobofit and this is Danielle, the exterminator from yesterday. I was wondering if the child killed today was missing their ears and had a ripped open chest.” Chief Hamilton had a similar reaction to the first policeman and you looked at Danny smugly. “Yes,” He replied finally, “How did you know that?” “There was a raccoon in this neighborhood that had the same afflictions. We think they may be connected. How old was the child?” “Um, 10.” “10?” You were surprised. The iguana only killed infants and toddlers, the only things small enough. “Yes. Listen, thank you for the information but I cannot share anymore with you.” He turned and started walking away. “Chief!” You called before turned to Danny and muttering, “I’ll explain what’s about to happen later. Promise.” “Yes?” Chief Hamilton asked, sounding slightly annoyed. “I am here to help you in this investigation.” You stated. “I am sorry. It is policy that civilians do not help-” He was cut off by your badge flashing up and exposing an FBI I.D.. “Nancy Bobofit, FBI.” You said, I’m sorry I should’ve introduced myself formally earlier.” Without a word Chief Hamilton lifted the tape and allowed you to pass under. You motioned for Danny to follow and she did, with wide eyes. Dean “You know what Dean? You are just selfish!” Sam shouted at him. “Me? Selfish? Are you joking?” Dean shouted right back. “No! You told Y/N to leave just because I got hurt on a hunt. It wasn’t her fault but you refused to allow that it was yours! That would qualify as selfishness Dean!” Sam retorted without noticing the pain enter Dean’s face as soon as your name was mentioned. “Oh Dean- I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to- it just…slipped,” Sam stammered finally noticing Dean’s face. “I didn’t tell her to leave because you got hurt, Sam. I mean, I did…just not for why you think.” His voice was rough and raw. “Then why did you?” Sam asked gently. “When you got hurt I realized how much danger Y/N was in, even when we were there.” “So…you told her that you hated her, her guts and everything about her and that you never wanted to see her again…to keep her safe?” Sam’s tone was slightly colored with disbelief. Hearing the words Dean had growled at you ten months ago almost verbatim was like getting kicked in the chest. “That was the idea.” When Sam started to speak Dean continued, “I was desperate. I knew she’d want to finish the job and I knew she’d fight me if I asked her to leave. You know how stubborn Y/N was.” “Ok, Dean, whatever,” Sam threw his hands up, completely disapproving Dean’s reasoning, “I’m going to bed.” The next morning the boys were ready to get out of the tiny town in Rhode Island. “Got anything?” Dean asked Sam over the table. Sam glanced up from the newspaper. “Yeah…” He turned the paper so that they could both see, “A raccoon dead in the street one day and a ten year old the next.” “I don’t know man, that doesn’t sound up our alley.” “Both missing their ears and right lung.” “Like the iguana from last year?” “Exactly.” “Where?” “Kensington, New York. Nice and close.” “Let’s get going then.” They rolled up the street just before the sun started its descent from the sky. Both in suits with their FBI badges in hand they parked Baby and approached the yellow tape. “Follow my lead,” Dean said to his brother as they got closer. “Can I help you men?” The policeman asked skeptically as they approached. “I think so,” Dean started, both boys flipped their badges up to show him, “Agents Christopher and Dawson, FBI.” “Two more?” The policeman asked in disbelief. “Excuse me?” Sam asked. “We already have an agent on site. This didn’t seem like that big of a case.” “Yes, well, we suspect it to be a sadistic murderer. Obviously it isn’t 100% yet but…” Dean said, recovering quickly. He shot a look at Sam, it could be trouble. “Really? Well the other agent is in the tent,” The policeman motioned to a white canopy set up half on the street half on someone’s yard, “She got here a couple hours ago and it doesn’t look like she’s going to leave anytime soon.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. She? Just as they both shifted their attention over to the opening of the tent, you walked out, head bent over a folder with dozens of files, whispering urgently to the policeman next to you. Danny followed after seeming worried. Dean pulled in a breath, like he had been punched, as soon as he recognized you. Sam suddenly grinned from ear to ear, his eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. He ducked under the police tape and made a beeline for you. Dean was left dazed and slightly angry. “Christopher,” Sam called to him. Y/N “I want patrol down these four streets,” you pointed out the four surrounding streets to Officer McCinley as you spoke, “And at least two men stationed on this street at all times.” “Will do ma’am.” He said taking the map from you. You turned to Danny, ready to apologize for dragging her into this. Only rather than looking dreary and sad like she had earlier she was grinning and twirling her hair. Was she biting her lip? You spun to see what could make her put her flirting face on. You had to do a double take. Sam strode toward you with a huge smile on his face. He was wearing a suit and a long coat, obviously here to check out the case. Emotions ripped through you, happiness, longing, doubt, sadness, joy, anger, most of them you couldn’t understand. That is, until you saw Dean standing behind the tape. You knew Sam wouldn’t have come alone. “Hey!” Sam said once he got close enough. “Hey to you too.” He pulled you in for a hug and you hugged back. “Have you grown?” You asked once he let you go. “Ha! Not quite. I think your shrinking.” He couldn’t stop grinning. Eventually a smile crept onto your face as well. Having him by your side was comforting. “Oh!” You realized after a minute that you were staring at each other, “This is Danny. Danny this is Sam.” “Nice to meet you,” Danny flirted extending her hand, “How do you know each other…exactly?” “Um, long story, but I’ll explain later.” You promised, leading them both into the tent. “Yeah, looks like you have a lot of explaining to do, Nancy,” Danny she spoke under her breath as you passed by. “What have you found out?” Sam asked the second you were inside the deserted tent. “Not much. Missing ears and right lung, as I’m sure you already know. No footprints, no fingerprints, no witnesses. Basically a dead end for the feds. Only two victims and I have them patrolling five of the streets around here. Couldn’t exactly tell them to keep an eye out for a ten foot lizard though, could I?” “What about sulfur? I mean it could be a set-up to get someone’s–our–attention.” “No. No sulfur, no EMF, no anything.” “So you’re thinking…?” “I’m not quite sure. I mean it’s supernatural, right? So that means we should be here. I guess the most likely thing is that iguana but we killed it last May. All the signs are matching up though.” “Huh.” “Huh what?” Dean said ducking into the tent. He seemed a bit overly confident. You struggled to maintain a calm face even though your insides were on fire. “You missed it now, we already went through it all. Where were you anyway?” You couldn’t hide your grin as Sam snapped at his brother. “Looking around,” Dean said, “You might want to have your boyfriends out there check the trees, Y/N.” “No.” You said feeling very angry, “You don’t get to talk to me like that.” After a second of what you imagined was an awkward silence for the others, while you collected yourself, you continued. “I did. It’s a dead end. The scratch marks match a dog down the street perfectly.” “Oh.” Was all he could manage. You led them all out to where the body was found. You all stood there, looking around. Suddenly you noticed a crack in the storm drain down the street. You made your way over to it cautiously. When you reached it you saw that there was a section missing from the back and blood smeared on the inside of each bar. You glanced back to the others. Dean was missing but Sam was watching you while Danny was looking the other way. You tapped the blood with your fingertip. Still wet. You got up and went back to them. As you drew closer, you noticed Dean walking toward them. You flipped your hand to show them the blood, not a second later Dean did the same. Both of your fingers were stained red. You cocked your eyebrow as you held eye contact with him. He nodded and you both made your way to the tent. {~} Sam had walked away, obviously noticing Dean’s often glances toward you. He clearly wanted to talk. You, on the other hand, nearly grabbed Sam’s leg as he was walking away so he would be forced to stay. “I know you think I’m an awful human being,” Dean started. He was on the right track…sort of. Was he really though? Because when you had left, you were sad and angry. But now? Now you saw his candy green eyes and the way his jaw muscles tensed and relaxed out of habit, all you wanted to do was make him a pie–or something like that, maybe give him a hug. “I know what I said to you was way over the line, that I was wrong in a hundred different ways. Because I was. You are the best hunter I know, the person for that matter. And I don’t expect you to forgive me, just to hear. I am sorry. I really, really am. And I thought I was doing the right thing by forcing you to leave; I thought I was protecting-” “Dean.” I cut him off. “You’re right. I’m not going to forgive you but I believe you. It’s not like you’re perfect or anything, no one is… The thing is, I was heartbroken. Loosing my two best friends, loosing my adopted family, was worse than dying; and I can’t risk going through that again. After we kill this thing–which we will–I can’t see you guys anymore… I can’t tell Sam. I won’t go through with it, so you have to tell him. But I’m not mad at you.” He stood there, stunned at me. I couldn’t blame him. Did any of that even make sense? My head pounded and my heart ached. For a moment it felt like the world around me shattered once more. But then I reminded myself that it was for the better. And I would make it. Dean nodded and walked past me to join his brother in Baby. I realized that maybe I had been heartbroken in more ways than one. As he walked away I got an insane urge to stop him. To run to him and kiss him. I wondered what his lips tasted like. In years before I’d seen him with other girls at bars and I’d pitied them, yet here I was, wishing I might be like them. But it was crazy; it would only end in pain. Why would I put myself through that? He’d already hurt me once, why would I give him the power to do it again. {~} The three of you climbed out of you respective cars and walked back to where Dean was popping Baby’s trunk. This evenings events were completely put out of all your minds, for there was a larger task at hand. He handed you a matchbook and a silver knife. The only thing that could possibly kill this thing was “the blood of a servant lit on fire”. The Winchesters had the brilliant idea that you were considered a servant because you were a waitress. Dean walked over to his position, hidden in some bushes, while Sam strode over to squat behind a tree. You, on the other hand, got to sit yourself in the center of the street. You had called off patrol when three nights passed without incident; and you were grateful that you didn’t have to worry about a cop finding the three of you hunting a giant lizard. You pricked your finger on the knife, releasing all kinds of bloody odors to attract the iguana, and wiped the blood all over the pavement around you. {~} It was organized chaos as Sam and Dean shot and threw things at the iguana. You slit your forearm open, pooled some in your hand and threw it. Thankfully, it landed square on its back, allowing you to strike a match and set it on fire within seconds. The light from the growing flame was enough for you to find the self inflicted wound and put pressure on it. God it stung. The iguana screeched and whined as it burned to death, eventually making its way to hell, hopefully. Without a word, Dean and Sam allowed you to climb into your own car. It had been part of your deal that you never had to see them again. Sam seemed like he was going to start crying, or punching something; in the moment it looked like it was going to be Dean that got punched. Meanwhile, Dean looked like he was just told that they changed the shape of the fries at a restaurant he’d never been to–in other words, completely and totally bored. You meant to drive yourself to the hospital, to claim a false kitchen accident, but instead you ended up at a Motel 6. There was one room open and you gladly filled it. Once inside you quickly found whiskey, floss and a needle to stitch up the cut. After a few glasses of the alcohol, you slid into the bed and drifted off; you weren’t about to start complaining about a good night’s sleep, that is, until a knock came at the door. You groaned before rolling off the bed and answering. Since you were still half asleep you didn’t recognize the man before you for a few seconds. Then he choked out your name. {~} Dean charged you, swinging the door shut behind him and wrapping his arms around you in one swift motion. His lip enveloped yours, his fingers grabbed fabric and skin wherever they could, a desperate dance. Soon your fingers were laced through his hair, your lips molding to his. All you could taste was beer and bacon. Something in the very back of your mind told you he could taste the whiskey on your lips. He pushed you deeper into the room, quickly locating the bed, picking you up, and setting you down on the hard comforter. Your lips never parted and you never wanted them to. Then your hands found the hem of Dean’s shirt and the only thing you wanted was to get it off of him. He knew what you wanted and stepped back half a centimeter to slid it off. When he returned to you, he planted his lips firmly to left of your mouth where he kissed down your neck, to your collarbone, until your shirt got in the way. Without waiting for you to pull it off as you had for him, he grabbed the bottom and yanked it over your head, pulling out your hair clip in the process. The two of you shed your pants before rolling onto the bed. The sheets were cold compared to your hot bodies. Dean flipped you under him and held onto your wrist. As Dean’s other hand cupped your head to kiss you again you knew that whatever had happened before could be worked out, because right now was worth all of the pain.

[doctortdesigns]

The McCall’s Winter Holiday patterns have been announced!  While I don’t think McCall’s gets quite the love that Vogue does come holiday pattern release season, I McCall’s has really been stepping up their game recently, and I’m actually pretty impressed with several of the new patterns in this release.  I’m definitely picking up a few of these patterns for my stash, and there are several others I very much like, but really don’t need.  There’s lots of fun stuff, so let’s take a look:

M7865 – Ok, so this is a pretty simple mermaid gown, but it is SO PRETTY!  I love this silhouette, and I think the neckline variations and train option provide some interesting possibilities for adding embellishments to jazz up this dress.

M7866 – Can you say sexy?  Cuz this dress is HOT.  It is certainly not a normal bra friendly sort of a look, but I think it is a refreshing shift from the recent drowning in ruffles trend.  (I think this one patterns could spark further discussion about the cyclical nature of fashion, the ever changing “ideal” beauty, and trend fatigue, but I also feel I had a fair bit to say about that in the conclusion to my Kibbe Dramatic post.  Side note: Dramatics, this one’s for you!)

M7867 – Archive Collection circa 1933.  I’m a bit put off by the fabrication of the cropped jacket, but the gown is STUNNING.  The straps on the back?  Love it.  And who can resist a silky bias cut skirt like that?  I’m a sucker for vintage patterns (though I’ve yet to sew one), but this is absolutely going on the list.

M7864 – I’m less excited by this ruffle jumpsuit/dress.  Mostly because I’m just over the ruffles.  Could be good to whip up a quick holiday party look though.

M7861 – Learn to Sew for Fun.  A classic sheath dress.  I don’t need this in my collection at all, but I do like the neckline options and darts to help with fit.

M7863 – I feel like this could be an easy pattern to skip over, but I saw the sneak peak on Instagram stories, and it is gorgeous.  The juxtaposition of the tailored top and angles plackets with the ruching on the skirt is really intriguing.  Another pattern that is going on the list because it really would be unique in my collection.

M7862 – This style of dress really isn’t for me, but I do enjoy the model photo.  The sleeve options really could let you make versions for all seasons.

M7872 – I feel like I don’t need this jumpsuit pattern, but I really do like this jumpsuit pattern.  The top variations could easily change the feel from being more formal (View D) with being more of a party look (I’m imagining Views B and C in sequins… because I imagine everything in sequins…).

M7879 – I know I don’t need this pattern, because realistically I’d only use View A, and I have other patterns that look like View A.  I think the sleeve variations are a bit nuts, but I also think they could help you make a really unique coat, if you are going for that.  View D intrigues me because, while that isn’t a style I’d like for myself, I don’t think there’s been many styles with that shorter, tapered hem in the marketplace recently.  I think it is simple, but also somewhat unique at the moment.

M7873 – I’m enjoying the crazy diagonal asymmetry of this top – so fun!  It’s an interesting interpretation of the athleisure trend.  In seam pants pockets are also quite fun.

M7868 – Not much new here in this draped blouse.  If you need a draped blouse, this isn’t bad, as it has several collar and sleeve variations.

M7870 – Interesting corset/blouse style.  My first thought was that it seemed a bit dowdy in the velvet, and my second thought was that it would have been perfect for my Spring Sew Geeky capsule, and my third thought was “Dang it, now I have to buy it and make it so I can wear it with my amazing Burda trousers as an Esmeralda Disney bound.”  My fourth thought, clearly, was that I think too much.

M7869 – I feel like this sweater top could possibly be a bit boring without the ruffles, but also that it might be a bit much with the ruffles.  As far as ruffle placement goes, this isn’t the worst we’ve seen, but I’m just so over the ruffles.

M7874 – Cute workout gear for the cooler weather.

M7871 – Nancy Zieman. The pockets are pretty cool (great place to stick a cell phone), and the shorter version looks cute styled with the leggings and boots.

M7880 – Beaute’ J’Adore.  I’m not needing any PJs patterns at the moment, but in a different fabric the top could be a cute unconstructed blouse (I’m envisioning it in a plaid, worn over a tank top as a layer…), and the hoodie top could be a really cute variation if the buttons work (or even if they don’t, it’s a fun feature).  As PJs, it’s a pass, but as layering pieces, it’s worth considering.

M7860 – Kids coats.  The pink fur is so impractical, but so fun.  My inner 5-year-old is all about that pink coat.

M7857 – Malia Janveaux for Kathryn. A more practical (?) kids pattern.  The cardigan looks like something you’d see for an adult, it’s kind of unique to see it in a kids pattern.

M7858 – David Tutera. My inner 5-year-old is also dying to wear that pink dress and twirl.  A lot.

M7859 – Leggings always feel like a selling point on a kids pattern.

M7882 – I feel like we see these elf dolls every year…

M7881 – These dog coats seem really practical in comparison to many of the other patterns we’ve seen.  The wrap around velcro also feels like a really practical feature for actually getting it on a dog before a walk.

M7884 – Create It! bag pattern.  Dear pattern companies:  Can you please also include iconography from other major winter holidays so that I can make gifts for all my friends who have to shop in a state that’s banned plastic bags?  Thanks.  (Realistically though, I do think these bags are super cute and super practical for grocery shopping during the holidays, I just wish there were other decorative options.  And, yes, I could just make my own design templates and do what I want, I’m just saying I shouldn’t always have to.)

M7885 – Angela Clayton.  I love all of her costume patterns.  ALL OF THEM.  This gown is gorgeous and it shall be mine.

M7886 – Angela Clayton.  This cape pattern shall also be mine, because The Wheel of Time has been optioned and I need to prepare my stash with as many cloak styles as possible to make ALL OF THE COSPLAYS.  ALL OF THEM.

And that’s it!  Personally I think this is a pretty solid release.  There are plenty of standard basics, but also a fair number of holiday party stand-outs.  Even patterns I didn’t really appreciate the first time through (like that corset inspired top) have somehow made it onto my wishlist.  What do you all think?  Do you see anything you need to make your holiday sewing complete?  Or are you so over the holiday pattern releases at this point that nothing can interest you?  Who else has a weakness for vintage and gown and costume patterns and is dying to add some of these offering to the stash?  Feel free to discuss in the comments!

McCall's Winter Holiday Patterns 2018 #sewing #McCalls #patterns #winterholiday #fashion #holidaysewing The McCall's Winter Holiday patterns have been announced!  While I don't think McCall's gets quite the love that Vogue does come holiday pattern release season, I McCall's has really been stepping up their game recently, and I'm actually pretty impressed with several of the new patterns in this release. 

[skincare-us-blog]

Hats!

New Post has been published on http://skincareee.com/hats/

Hats!

In the realm of everyday wear, hats stand alone as one of the few accessories that can easily be used as a disguise. Shove a pair of dark Prada sunglasses under your ball cap and you are free to inconspicuously roam the streets of your city, to read trashy novels on the subway without risk of judgement (at least not by a person who recognizes you). When it comes to all the other days, a hat can change everything about a look. Not to mention practicality, too—did you know most of your body’s heat escapes through your head? And did you know that a dark-colored sun hat with a tight weave can do more to protect your face than SPF? And were you aware that putting on a hat is scientifically proven to hide a bad hair day? That’s science!!!

Even if you ignore all the other reasons to wear them, the fact of the matter is that hats are fucking cool. This isn’t the 19th century; a single person rocking a hat-as-objet is a rarity and worthy of admiration. But there is at least one hat out there for everybody—promise! It’s just a matter of finding the one. Read below for details and click through for inspiration. Next thing you know you’ll be tipping your cap to random strangers.

The Beret

In an effort to avoid looking like a twee French cartoon, take your classic beret and make it orange, and also make it leather. The bold color does a good job bringing out warm tones in the face, plus, with a swipe of pink blush and freckles, it’s an entirely new look altogether.

Hat by Clyde. Trench by Frame Denim. Earrings by Jennifer Fisher. Socks by Coach and sandals by A.P.C.

Susanne wears Glossier Wowder in Light/Medium, Marc Jacobs Beauty Bronzer in 102 Tantric, Glossier Cloud Paint in Dusk, Glossier Boy Brow in Brown plus Kevyn Aucoin Eyebrow Pencil in Brunette, Marc Jacobs Velvet Noir Volume Mascara in Black, and Ciaté London Liquid Velvet in Oh Honey on lips.

The Bardot (Sort of)

But brand new, and extra weird—in the best way. It’s not your mother’s straw hat, nor is it Jacquemus. Instead, it’s got a unique vibe that’s both new and retro, making it somehow even more wearable. Especially with a velvet suit.

Hat by Trademark. Blazer by Frame Denim. Bra by Baserange. Hoops by Jennifer Fisher. Socks by Coach, sandals by A.P.C.

Susanne wears Nars Belle De Jour Velvet Matte Lip Pencil.

The Art Piece

If you’ve ever felt like wearing a beehive on your head, here is your opportunity!

Hat by Stephen Jones for Marc Jacobs. Blazer and pants by Theory. Bra by Baserange). Hoops by Jennifer Fisher. Coach socks, sandals by A.P.C..

Susasnne wears Dior Rouge Dior Double Rouge in 510 Jungle Beige.

The Western

Say what you will but it wouldn’t be a hat story if it didn’t talk about a cowboy hat. Before you crack open a cold one with the boys (or like, round up the cattle), match your lip color to the thing on top of your head. This is the look.

Hat by Clyde. Jacket, vest, and pants by Maryam Nassir Zadeh. Hoops by Jennifer Fisher. Coach socks. Sandals by A.P.C..

Susanne wears Glossier Coconut Balm Dotcom on her lips.

The Sk8r Boi

Or at least Stephen Jones’ via Marc Jacobs take on such a hat. This one’s a deep, plush violet paired with Acne separates. AKA you don’t have to skate or be subscribed to Thrasher to wear this guy.

Hat by Stephen Jones for Marc Jacobs hat (similar). Jacket, skirt and sweater by Acne. Hoops by Jennifer Fisher, Coach socks, Sandals by A.P.C..

Susanne wears RMS Simply Vanilla Lip Balm.

The Canadian Tuxedo

Anybody can wear a ball cap. Put this one with matching A.P.C. denim and you’re a classy, 2017 version of Britney and JT.

Hat, jacket, skirt and sandals by A.P.C.. [Hoops by Jennifer Fisher]((https://shop-links.co/1620795269784617939), Coach socks.

Susanne wears Gressa Aux Rouge on lips.

The Tennis Player

Tennis chic! To wear with your pre- OR post-Labor Day whites. Fun and energetic and extremely wearable.

Yestadt Millinery hat (similar here). Topshop jacket and bodysuit. Lyell shorts. [Hoops by Jennifer Fisher]((https://shop-links.co/1620795269784617939), Coach socks, sandals by A.P.C..

Susanne wears RMS lip shine in Trance.

The Beanie

You might be one of those people who wears a beanie every day during the winter, but it can be hard to find one that fits just right. Not every beanie is as perfect and tiny as this one! Feelin’ pretty cozy alongside a red lip and head-to-toe khaki. Creatures of Comfort indeed.

Creatures of Comfort hat. Frame trench (similar here). Baserange bra. Theory pants. [Hoops by Jennifer Fisher]((https://shop-links.co/1620795269784617939). Coach socks. sandals by A.P.C..

Susanne wears Kosas lipstick in Thrillest.

The Nancy Meyers

Reminiscent of childhood leaf raking and wrap-around porch sitting, the bucket hat could never be left out of a hat roundup. In red it is altogether as sweet and disarming as Jude Law’s bespectacled morning-after coffee look in The Holiday. No shame! Bucket hats are cozy, happy, nostalgic and surprisingly chic. The cherry on top.

Acne Studios hat. 3.1 Phillip Lim sweater. Lyell pants. Hoops by Jennifer Fisher.

Susanne wears RMS Swift Shadow in Tobacco Road TR94, Marc Beauty New Nudes in 116 Anais.

Susanne Knipper photographed by Tom Newton. Styled by Lilli Millhiser. Makeup by Ingeborg. Hair by Clara Leonard.