#don’t even get me started on how mickey was written

[juviavevo]

finding out ncuti gatwa is the new doctor, david tennant is returning for 3 specials and rtd is returning as a writer so you excitingly decide to rewatch all of doctor who (2005) again since 2014: no fear

actually rewatching doctor who (2005) again and realising that the rtd1 era was more antiblack than you remembered it to be and he’s now also writing the first black (main) doctor: one fear

[alexstalkers]

Everything Has Changed- Part 1

Hello everyone, this is the first story I've ever written, and especially of the fanfic type. I am a big Shameless fan and have been rewatching lately and Carl is my favorite character. I hope you enjoy!! (Please give feedback, in a nice way) I might do a part two if people like this❤️ 

Backstory: Carl Gallagher is a police officer, and you are studying Psychology with a minor in Sociology at the University of Chicago. You meet at a time in your life where you don't need distractions or a relationship, but the Gallaghers are hurricanes and Carl changes your world view. 

SONG INSPIRATION: Everything Has Changed- Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran (Corny, IK) 

Characters: Y/N (Your Name) (black woman), Michelle (Your best friend and roommate also a black woman) Carl Gallagher, other Gallaghers (Ian, Lip, Liam) Kev, V, Mickey 

----------------------------------- 

I wasn’t ready for how this day was going to go. At. All. At. Fucking. All. I was frustrated waiting in line at some check cashing place near my job, and only had 10 minutes left on my lunch break. I was impatient and my only thought was, "can these people hurry the fuck up?!" I felt like the time was deliberately speeding up as the people around me were slowing down.  

I was annoyed as I finally walked up to the front counter and put my check in front of the middle-aged white lady that was smiling back at me, "Hi, how are you? May I see some ID please?", The woman’s pleasant attitude annoyed me even more as I pulled out my wallet to showcase my ID while rolling my eyes. The woman pulls down her glasses to inspect it for second and grabs the check from me. “One second”, she says with a smile while turning around. After a few minutes, she turns back around and starts to passive-aggressively count out loud my change back to me. “Eight-hundred and fifty dollars.”, she says handing me the money.  

I snatch it out of her hand and turn to walk out the door as the woman smiles and waves goodbye. As I walk out of the check cashing place, I look at my phone for the time to see I have one minute left of my lunch break. “Shit! Shit, shit, fuck!”, I yell frantically running to my car that is parked across the street. As I get to my car, I see a cop about to put a ticket on the windshield. “Wait officer, I’m here! Please don’t do that, please!” 

 “Meter was up. Nothing I can do.”, he says with a don't care type of attitude. 

“You can’t just spare me this one time? I’m already running late for work, and it won’t happen again.”, I plead.  

He looks at me as I stare back with a pathetic expression on my face, eyes begging him. “Sorry about it ma’am.” He shrugs his shoulders as he places the ticket on my windshield as he turns around and walks away. 

“Asshole!” I yell. He stops walking and turns his head to glare at me.  

“Oh! So, you want another ticket for disrespecting an officer, ma’am?”, he shouts back at me in a pointed way.  

My eyebrows shot up in a scary way as I ran into my car before he tried to ticket me again. 

“Damn it!”, I exclaim as I check the time and see I have 5 minutes to get back to work and it’s a 3-minute drive to get to my job at the DoubleTree Hotel.

When I get to my job, I rush inside to the front desk where I work, and my boss has beaten me there. “Cutting it close, Y/N. Do you nap on your breaks? I don’t have time to wait for you.” My boss isn’t a tyrant, but he is strict and more so than usual because his wife is pregnant and almost due, so he’s been stressed about that. 

“Sorry Brandon, won’t happen again.” I apologized while going behind the front desk. “Did that high school that booked verify their reservation?” I ask while looking on the computer to check the most recent guests that checked in and out. 

“No, they didn’t and they’re coming in three days.” Brandon says walking into his office. I sigh as I start trying to get in touch with the school staff for the reservation. This is going to be a long night. 

When I get back to my apartment that I share with my best friend at around 6 pm, I am finally ready to settle down, relax from this long day and take a nice bath, but Michelle comes running over to me. “Can you zip this up for me, please?”, she asks turning around in a black corset mini dress. 

“Okkkk, you look cute friend!” I hype her up while I zip up the dress, “but where are you going?”, I ask. 

“You mean us because you’re coming with me. I met this guy a couple of days ago and he asked me out to this new club, said I could bring a friend and he’s bringing one of his. Make it like a double date kind of thing.” She explained as she put on black high-heeled boots. 

I groaned. “I’m not really feeling up to it I had a long day, I was late for work after cashing my check and the cashier was rude as shit. My boss was giving me hell and I got a ticket. Also, we have midterms coming up soon.”  

“This is exactly why we need to get you out of this apartment, you���re stressing too much. You could use a little bit of fun and time to enjoy life with no work or school.” 

“Finnee…” I say looking at her hesitantly as she pushes me into my room to get dressed. After I take my shower, I stand in front of my closet and pull out a taupe-colored sweater knit dress, a black mesh bodysuit, black pantyhose, black mesh designer gloves and suede leather high-heel ankle boots.  

I lay out all of my clothes and start to get ready by doing makeup, hair and putting on body cream and perfume then I get on my clothes after about 30 minutes. I grab everything I need including my phone charger and wallet and leave my room to see Michelle waiting in the living room watching ‘The Kardashians’. She looks up as I come out. “You ready?”, she asks expectantly.  

“Yeah girly, let’s go before I change my mind!”, I joke half-heartedly as she turns off the TV and grabs her keys to leave. “You’re driving?” 

“Well, you have a ticket, remember?” She laughs as we leave and lock the apartment to go to the club.  

—————————————— 

“What is this place called anyway?”, I ask on the way there while I play one of my Spotify playlists to help me get a little more turnt for tonight. 

“Cosmo, I think”, she replies “I just know it’s somewhere on the Southside.” She shrugs. 

“Why are we meeting some random ass guys on the Southside of Chicago?!”, I questioned. What type of horror movie shit did she get me into? “What the fuck do I look like going to the Southside and possibly getting murdered?” 

She sighs, “I’ve already met one of the guys and have been talking to him for a couple of days like I told you and he’s a cop and so is his friend. He also showed me a picture of his friend so we’re not going into this blind.” She explains.  

I give her an annoyed look, “Whatever, I’m only doing this for you. But if this gets weird, I’m taking my ass home.”, I explain. She nods with a smirk on her face as I roll my eyes. When we finally got to the club, Michelle followed the parking sign that leads to a small parking entrance next to the building that has a flickering neon sign that reads "Cosmo” and people lined up to get inside already.  

“Damn this is shitty. And there’s a line already. Come on, let’s hurry up and retouch our makeup before we go inside to meet the guys. I also want to show you a picture of my dates friend.”, Michelle explains excitedly as she starts to fix her lipstick.  

After we get done fixing ourselves up, we get out of the car and walk up to the line where we see people standing around the entrance, talking eagerly while waiting to get inside. It’s a little chilly outside and Michelle didn't bring a jacket, so she stands closer to me for body heat as we join the bustling line.  

Michelle looks at me nervously as I breathe out a breath of cold air. She pulls out her phone. “So, the guy that I’m meeting up with tonight is named Carl and like I said before he’s a cop and so is the friend he’s bringing for you. His friend's name is Michael. Here’s a picture that he sent me of him.”, she explained pulling up a picture of the Michael guy from her text messages. “What do you think?” 

I look at the picture for a minute and take in his olive skin, tattoos, and brown eyes. He’s attractive. “Yeah, he’s cute.”, I shrug off an oncoming smile that I know she can see by her smirk as she looks back down at her phone probably texting my approval to her date. “I just can’t wait to get inside, it’s cold as shit out here.”, I complain to change the topic as we inch closer to the entrance. “So, are they inside already or are they on their way?", I ask Michelle about the whereabouts of our dates. 

We inched even closer to the entrance. “I texted Carl and he said they’re meeting us here from his house, but that he doesn’t live far.”, she answered rubbing her hands together trying to warm herself up. As I was about to offer her my gloves we reached the entrance of the club. “Yay, finally!”, she groaned happily as she steps to the entrance nervously, but a giant man with a stern expression is standing there blocking it off with his arms crossed.  

“ID, please.”, the bouncer demands. Although he says ‘please’, it’s filled with authority and he’s not someone to mess with, so we go in our bags for our IDs immediately but get interrupted by a voice from behind. 

“Michelle, is that you?” We both turn around and see two guys, one is who Michelle showed me a picture of a few minutes earlier, he’s put together and wearing a nicely ironed shirt and jeans. The other guy who called Michelle’s name is more rugged looking, his hair is dark and messed up, he has sharp hazel eyes and a series of scars around his face. He’s wearing a random band t-shirt and a leather jacket and looks like he just rolled out of bed and put it on.  

“It’s ok, they’re with us,” he says to the bouncer as he and Michael flash their badges at him. Michelle and I glance at each other with impressed looks on our faces as the bouncer opens the rope and lets us in. 

____________________________________________ 

We step into the dingy-looking club and the pulsating beat of the music automatically fills the air bringing up the vibe and has Michelle and Carl out on the dance floor already. “Would you like a drink?”, Michael asks me over the Nicki Minaj remix blasting through the speakers.  

“Yes please, thank you! I’m going to go find seats!”, I answer back as he nods and walks over to the bar. I squint my eyes over the flashing lights as I walk over to the seating area of the club with dimmer lighting and worn-out leather couches, chairs and tables in private sections. As I approach the seating area, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke creeps up my nose as I walk around looking for an empty section. I finally found one in a secluded corner near the bathrooms and saw Michael looking for me with our drinks in his hands, so I gestured him over to our section. 

“I just got you a vodka and cranberry. That, ok?”, he asks as he sits down and hands me my drink. I nod and take a sip before putting it on the table.  "What do you study at the University of Chicago?" Michael asks, leaning back casually and taking a sip from his own drink. 

"I’m majoring in psychology, with a minor in sociology," I respond, relaxing into the worn-out leather couch. "It’s a lot of work, but I love it. What about you? How long have you been a cop?" 

"About three years now," he replies. "Carl and I actually met at the academy. He’s a good guy, though sometimes a little too eager to throw himself into danger." 

"Sounds like Carl," I say with a small laugh, glancing over at the dance floor where Carl and Michelle are tearing it up. "Michelle told me he’s a bit of a wild card." 

"That’s one way to put it," Michael agrees with a chuckle. "But he’s got a good heart. We both do this job because we want to make a difference, you know?" 

"Yeah, I get that," I say, nodding. "It’s just... sometimes I wonder if the system is too broken to fix." 

Michael looks at me thoughtfully. "You sound like someone who’s seen a lot for your age." 

I shrug. "Maybe." 

"Okay..." he says, raising his eyebrow and taking another sip of his drink. "So, what do you do for fun when you’re not buried in books or dealing with rude cashiers?" 

I laugh, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. "Honestly, not much lately. Between school and work, I don’t have a lot of free time. But when I do, I like to read, watch movies, and sometimes go out dancing with Michelle." 

"Sounds like you need to have more nights out like this," Michael says with a grin. "Life’s too short to spend all of it working and studying." 

"Maybe you’re right," I admit, taking another sip of my drink. "So, tell me more about you. Any crazy stories from your time on the force?" 

Michael’s eyes light up. "Oh, I’ve got plenty. There was this one-time Carl and I were chasing down this guy who stole a car. We’re speeding through the streets, and Carl is hanging out of the window trying to shoot out the tires. It was like something out of a movie." 

"That sounds intense," I say, eyes wide. "Did you catch him?" 

"Yeah, we got him," Michael says proudly. "But not before Carl ended up with a busted lip and a bruised ego." 

We both laugh, the conversation flowing easily. Before I know it, an hour has passed, and I’m feeling much more relaxed and in the moment. Michelle and Carl joined us, flushed and laughing from their time on the dance floor. 

"Having fun?" Michelle asks, plopping down beside me. 

"Yeah, actually," I say, smiling at her. "Thanks for dragging me out tonight." 

"Anytime," she says, nudging me playfully. "So, Michael, what do you think of Y/N?" 

Michael looks at me, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I think she’s pretty great." 

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks and look away, trying to hide my smile. "You’re not so bad yourself." 

Carl and Michelle exchange a knowing look, and I feel a sense of camaraderie growing among the four of us. Maybe tonight wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, dancing, and good conversation. By the time we leave the club, I’m feeling lighter than I have in weeks. As we walk to the car, Michael walks beside me, his hand brushing against mine. 

"I had a really great time tonight," he says softly. 

"Me too," I admit. "Maybe we can do this again sometime?" 

"I’d like that," he says, smiling down at me. 

As we reach the car, Michelle and Carl are already inside, talking animatedly. Michael opens the door for me, and I slide in, feeling a sense of contentment I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe this was the distraction I needed. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something new. 

Back at the apartment, Michelle and I collapse on the couch, exhausted but happy. 

"See? Didn’t I tell you it would be fun?" she says, kicking off her boots. 

"Yeah, you were right," I admit, smiling. "Thanks for dragging me out tonight." 

"Anytime, girl," she says, giving me a hug. "Now get some sleep. We’ve got midterms to tackle." 

"Right," I say, rolling my eyes. But as I head to my room, I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement for what’s to come. Maybe Carl and his friend had brought more than just a night of fun into my life. Maybe they’d brought a new beginning. 

I fall asleep that night with a smile on my face, ready to see what the future holds. 

[corrodedbisexual]

The original plushie

Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link

This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️

Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love

The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.

Snippet under the cut

“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face. 

“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.” 

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”

Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.” 

“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?” 

Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.” 

Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)

“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”

Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.

“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot. 

And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.  

Whole fic on AO3

[kickingitwithkirk]

Paschal Moon

Summary: Jensen finds crossing the tracks isn’t always a bad thing

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Astronomer!Reader

WC: 2358

Warnings: some angst, really bad punning(sorry) divorce, cheating, innuendos, cursing, reader says shit like I do IRL 😅

A/N: 10/24-I’ve fixed the grammatical errors and expanded this part, cause you know me, I can be chatty and I've written a sequel!

Square Filled: @winchesterandbeyondbingo -midnight @spnmixedbingo -secret dating @spnaubingo -wet dream @j3bingo -camping @howbadcanitbebingo -cliche galore

*Moldavite

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no Beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

It was Thursday night, and once again, Jensen found himself the proverbial third wheel. The Padalecki’s meant well, dragging him everywhere with them since he filed for divorce, wanting to keep him from brooding with a bottle when not with his kids.

And it wasn’t that Jensen didn’t mind socializing. It was knowing the evening would be filled with repetitive I’m sorry, and the look of sympathy that sent him straight to the open bar first for many a shot nowadays. 

Feeling the slight buzz he needed kicking in, Jensen put on his game face and, with another tumbler of liquid courage in hand, made the rounds, chatting amicably with various groups and catching up with old friends.

Things were going pretty well until some dumb fuck turned to Genevieve, loudly blurting they’d heard Danneel making the rounds with guys with more sizable assets was the reason for the divorce pissed off her moose-sized husband, who bellows shut your unprepossessing cake hole causes a momentary distraction allowing Jensen to escape out a nearby door before punching the sonuvabitch with the double entendre himself. 

Slamming it shut, he stomped to the riverside view, wrapping both hands around the horizontal guardrail and squeezing like he was wringing a chicken's neck when the simultaneous swish of fabric and a hand holding half a glass of liquid appeared.

“Looks like you could use this more than me.” 

Jensen’s eyes met those of the tall drink of water he’d noticed throughout the evening. Looking at the glass again made her laugh, “I’m not slipping you a Mickey.” Lifting it to her lips, he watched her throat ungulate as she drank and felt Jen Jr. rising to attention. “See, Peaches, I’m not some crazy stalker.” 

Jensen takes the glass and feels a spark when their fingers brush. “Thanks, I wasn’t thinking..that.” Throwing back the rest, he appreciates the liquor's smooth slide down his throat. “It’s been a pretty shitty evening.”

“Preaching to the choir, Peaches! I came ‘cause my second cousin on my mama’s side girl broke up with him, and now I know why.” She bends over and retrieves a bottle, giving Jensen a fantastic view of her breasts artfully showcased in her cocktail dress, and pops up, pointing the bottle at him.

 “That motherfucker thought he could pimp me out for a promotion! What the hell is it with people having a ring on it?” She grabs his left wrist, tilting it so the outdoor lights glint off the wedding band he hasn’t removed yet, “Acting like this means absofuckinglutely nothing?”

“Now you’re preaching to the choir. My soon-to-be ex was doing that while I was working in Vancouver and telling everyone it’s because I’m lacking.” Jensen couldn’t stop self-dissing since catching Danneel and one of his closest friends together.

“Hoooly shit!  You’re the guy whose wife runs around saying you couldn’t find her clit with a map, GPS, or fucking bullseye paint on it!” Jensen’s eyes widened at her audacity. “Hell, most gals just use a vibrator if they wanna get off that bad. And did you just admit your package is..?” She wiggles her pinky finger while refilling the glass, “Don’t get me wrong, no shame if you know how to use it.” 

She finally noticed his expression slapped a hand over her mouth and mumbled, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry! My mouth doesn’t know how to stop once I get started. Blame it on my upbringing.” Jensen took a drink to cover his humiliation, and a stiffener for no telling what she’d say next asked, “Upbringing?”

Removing her hand reveals a guileless smile: “You know what they say, you can take the girl outta the trailer park.” Bewilderment crossed his face to her self-deprecating response. “Yeah, I’m that relative they always warned you about.”

“Little late with the warning, sweetheart.”

She burst out laughing, and Jensen found himself doing the same.

Later

Jensen couldn’t believe it. 

In his profession, showing unscripted emotions was a sign of weakness many would exploit. Yet, here he was, a forty-three-year-old man usually in control, sitting outback of this building with a woman he’d never met before, who’d upended that control.

She was the distraction he needed before knowing it; he did something he’d never do under normal circumstances, told her everything, and got a response of, “That sucks balls, and not in a good way!”

“Kicker is; she wants alimony.”

“What a gall darn minute. You caught your almost ex doing the beast with two backs, right?” Jensen hums in response. “Peaches, I’m no lawyer, but I’d say that ain’t fucking happening,” She tips the second five-finger discounted bottle over the glass he’d again drained. “And no offense, your ex makes those whores back in Ratchet City look almost pious. Most have the decency not to fuck in your bed.”

Jensen rubbed his face, “I can’t believe I’ve told a stranger about my marital problems.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to unburden yourself to someone you don’t know.”

“I haven’t even told my family or Jared!”

“And Jared is?”

“The guy who has my back no matter what.” She ponders his response for a moment. “That’s probably why. You’re afraid that if he knows what happened, it’ll diminish how he sees you.” Jensen appeared confused. “Guys POV... if I caught my wife fucking around and saying it’s cause I couldn’t keep her satisfied in the sack, I’d not wanna discuss it either. But I know it’s,” wiggles pinky again, “Horseshit.”

“How?”

“You dress left, and I’ve never had an iPhone stand up to say hello.” Jensen struggled to formulate a coherent response. “Ahh, come on, Peaches, you know you’ve given many people wet dreams about the Ackelconda.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Cause you’ve got the juiciest peach of an ass, and I wouldn’t kick you outta bed for eating crackers,” she says, winking at him, but before he responds, they hear a booming, “Jensen!” Jared appears out the side door, walking towards them. “Fuck, man, I’ve been looking all over for you!  We need to get going; it’s almost midnight.”

“Well, pooh, and here I thought I was going to get lucky,” she says as they stand up; a ringing church bell echoes across the river twelve times. “Guess it’s time to leave the ball and head back to the pumpkin patch.” 

Walked past Jared, she nodded and was almost to the open door when Jensen yelled, “Wait!” She paused as he ran over, “You can’t leave this way. I don’t even know your name.” She held out a hand, “Give me your phone.” He unlocked it and noticed her smirk while she was typing. “Give me a ring if you ever cross the tracks, Peaches." 

Both men appreciated her retreating form when Jared asked, “Who was that?” Jensen doesn’t answer until she disappears in the crowded room, then glances at the screen and gets his you’ve got to be kidding face.

“Cinderella.”

****

Weeks later

One afternoon, they were hanging out watching football, and Jared, tired of nagging Jensen about getting back on the horse and calling her, pulled out the big guns, telling him if he was going to act like a girl, maybe he should put on a skirt and call himself Jane.

That irked an inebriated Jensen, who fumbled his phone out of his pocket, pulled up her contact info…and chickened out again, tossing it on the couch. Jared saw her number on the screen and tapped call, knowing he risked getting kneed in the nads. Two rings later, her voice came through the speaker. 

“Peaches, you’re slower than molasses crawling uphill in January giving a girl a holler.” Hearing her voice mellowed Jensen, and they agreed to meet on Friday at a hole-in-the-wall for lunch where he wouldn’t be recognized.

That lunch became dinner. Dinner became bar hopping, and after indulging in one too many, they sneaked into Blue Hole Regional Park, went skinny dipping, and did things that would scare fish. Afterward, she takes him to a Waffle House, somewhere he hadn’t been in years, for a bowl of 4 AM chili.

****

Monday morning, coffeeholic Jensen grumpily fumbles around the shoebox-sized kitchen in her hundred-year-old farmhouse, searching for a mug while waiting on an aged percolator to finish.

Bending over to look in the dishwasher, he discovers one with a rainbow-maned unicorn flipping the bird, saying, I Run On Caffeine Sarcasm & Cuss Words.  Straightening up, Jensen bangs his head on an overhanging cabinet and finds the last two words apropos. Finally brewed, Jensen steps out onto the shady front porch, sipping on the dark roast, and sits in one of the old rockers, contemplating if he’s having a midlife crisis.

They were barely acquainted twenty-four hours before they got together, in the biblical sense. He heard Dean's gravelly voice telling him to stop being a dumbass, that he deserved this after the shellacking Danneel delivered the last few months.

What astounds Jensen is that when his heart broke harder than he knew it could, she was the solace he craved, and he began to believe it would mend with her.

Jensen was nervous because tonight was extra special.

A few months back, she bounded into his home excited about an upcoming celestial event and field trip her astronomy class was taking. She really, really wanted him to go, even though they agreed to keep their relationship secret until he’d finalized his divorce. It struck Jensen that it would be the perfect night to do something he’d wanted to do since their first date, so he said yes while mentally making other arrangements for the night.

****

“Peaches, this isn’t the way.”

“We’re not going there sweetheart.”

“I realize that Captain Obvious! What I want to know, wtf?!  Are you trying to get me fired? I have a class...."

“That Dr. Carnegie is graciously covering.”

“Why is..what did you do Jensen?”

“I went to the head of your department,” she groaned, “And inquired if someone else could supervise because I’d planned a special night with my girl.”

“What happened to us keeping on the DL? Carnegie is the biggest blabbermouth! Everyone on the planet’s gonna know about us by morning!”

“My divorce was finalized this morning.”

“WHAT!” she indignantly squawked. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” Jensen bemusedly listened to her ongoing rant, eventually picking up her hand and kissing its back, entwining their fingers as he drove on for another hour to Inks Lake State Park. “Since when do you camp out?” She asks when he pays for an overnight camping permit. “Cause the one time I asked, you gave me stink face at the mention of a tent.”

“Since the day you bounded into my home all excited and asked me to come with you. I wanted to make tonight special.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I sincerely appreciate you compromising your creature comforts for me.” Jensen scratched the back of his head, “Well, it’s not technically camping out. I got an air mattress that fits in the truck bed.”

“I know it’s a yearly thing, so what makes this one so special?” Jensen asked as he gazed up at the moon awash with a vivid pink hue. The question made her lift her head from the telescope’s eyepiece, and an amused expression crossed her features.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? Or do you want me to paint you like one of those French girls?” Jensen peers down at his unintentional position: one hand tucked behind his head, bowed legs splayed, one knee slightly bent, his other hand lying near the sliver of skin peeking out between his dark henley and well-worn jeans.

 “What makes this one so special?” She walks towards the truck, setting foot on the back bumper, gripping the tailgate, and hopping over it onto the mattress. “It is the moon's proximity to the earth.” She crawls forward, placing her hands on either side of his shoulders and slung a leg over Jensen’s hips, slowly sitting down. “Plus, being ultra-close, the color is so vivid that whatthehellisinyourpants!!”

Jensen quickly sits up, about to grab her waist so she doesn’t hit the sidewall, but she scoots down his legs. “That’d better be a sex toy in your pants and not Peyronie’s disease.” Jensen gave her a bewildered look. “What can I say? I like your cock as is. Curves just right for my pleasure.”

“Your mouth is gonna be the death of me..” “..but what a way to go?”

Jensen flopped on his back, groaning, “This isn’t how I imagined tonight going.” She smiled and crawled back over him, “So let’s pretend we’re on set. I’ve flubbed the scene and do another take.”

“That’s why I love you,” reaching up, Jensen tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “The fact that everything that pops into my head comes flying out of my mouth?” Jensen chuckles at her question. “Yeah, I like you, just as you are.” He reaches into the pocket she sat on, pulls out a box, and opens it, revealing the ring he’d chosen. “And would be the luckiest man alive if you’d marry me.”

Taking her left hand, he slides it on her finger, feeling apprehensive at her silence. It is almost deafening, having never known her without any response. “Getting nervous here, sweetheart,” Jensen says as he sits up. "Look, I know we’ve only been together for a short time. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way to answer right now.”

“What’s the stone?”

“Umm... it’s a Moldavite.” She gets that expression he still isn’t sure what to make of it. “I know it’s not conventional, and if you want to pick something else,” Jensen breaks off, watching her eyes fill with tears.

“You gave me this not ‘cause you’re being cheap. The stone, you knew what the significance of its origin would mean to me.” She cupped his cheek, “You’ve never put on airs with me, never been anything other than yourself. A genuine, caring, funny-as-hell doofus with a beautiful soul and I’m saying yes!”

Paschal Moon 2.0-coming 10/24

SPNTAGS:  @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva @lassie-bird  @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987   @smoothdogsgirl @deans-spinster-witch

[wehangout]

Shameless DVD Commentary

The wonderful @i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for a DVD commentary on Suncatcher! This was the first time I'd read it since finishing, so that was a lot of fun, too! This whole thing got away on me, so hit that read more if you want to read more 💜 as usual, thanks to @callivich for starting this awesome idea!

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

Suncatcher!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

Okay, I started posting this in March of 2022, which leads me to believe I started writing it in 2021 (I'm on a borrowed laptop, so can't check). It took some time to finish because ~real life~ and word count hits 58,592.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

Oooh, okay. This post. If you don't want to click, it's a text post saying "au where thief!cas tries to ride dean's dick and keep track of when his flashdrive is done stealing the contents of dean's computer at the same time". Obviously, that kind of scene never happened in Suncatcher, but vibes, you know?

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

Mostly Mickey because almost everything I write is Mickey pov. But I did experiment with this by writing those 3rd person Ian snippets, and literally the only reason for it is so the reader could be there for that moment of realisation when Ian figures it all out.

What was your favourite scene to write?

I don't know that I have one, but I really enjoyed the scene where Mickey asks Ian to come to Mexico. Getting to write them being soft, even just for a minute, was nice. And literally any of their flirty banter was fun to write lol.

How did you come up with the title?

I feel like this doesn't need an explanation, lol. I will say, though, I had three other titles in mind. I had "Denouement", "Encontrar", and "Atrapasol". Encontrar means "to find" in Spanish (because I knew it would end with them in Mexico), while "Atrapasol" means "suncatcher". At least, according to Google translate lmao.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I did a reread in order to write this commentary, so, please, have a list of moments, foreshadowing, and references.

* Mickey's nautical-themed sleeve! “Sailing? Nah, man. I just really like pirates.” Get it? Because he's a thief? And pirates steal shit? Literally no one caught onto that haha * “Uh … growing up the way I did, I’m probably better at the B&E itself rather than tryin’ to solve it.” -- Mickey literally says this in the first chapter lmao * His mind doesn’t go over every detail of the North Side burglaries and he doesn’t obsess over the thief committing them. No thief. Just a bartender. Just Mickey. -- Um, hello? * “Never gonna give that up, are we?” “Never gonna live it down.” “Those aren’t the lyrics.” “Okay, lyric police.” -- 27 Dresses, thank you * Ahh, Mickey's blowjob tattoo. The amount of erotic tattoo designs I looked at for this, but nothing was right. Until Mitch 💜 * He snorts. “Clearly you don’t know many writers.” “I don’t. Should I?” “No. They’re the worst.” -- I'm dying 😂 * Well, this really has turned into a commentary, huh? Apologies. * "A little dry, to be honest." Chapter 3 and 9. Did anyone catch that?

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

The last two chapters. Life completely turned upside-down on me and I couldn't write a thing. Zero motivation, infinity depression. Then, at the beginning of this year ... I dunno. I don't know what happened, but suddenly I was writing again and I haven't stopped yet.

Favourite line in the story?

“Catch me if you can, motherfucker.”

“Two, I give you the keys to the cuffs and leave. But first I suck your dick until you come down my throat.”

“I’ll give you what you want, Red, you just have to decide what you want more; the thief, or his mouth?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he whispers. “You did everything, Ian.”

“Interesting,” he says. “I was already half in love with you by then.” 😭

“I’m gonna fuck you now. You know that, right?” You groan and drop your head. “You might just break my fucking heart if you don’t, Gallagher.”

“So long as that lover is you, Gallagher.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

Yeah, but only chapters 9 and 10. Initially I was going to write Ian having a depressive episode and Mickey talking to him about everything while he was down, but I hated the idea. I didn't want it to seem like Mickey/the thief was the cause of his episode, and I also didn't want to use it as a tool. The idea changed into a possible attack on Ian, but that still wasn't working for me. So, instead, you got the scene with Mickey handcuffed and Ian asking questions. I switched the vulnerability around and made it way more fun.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

Nah. A little crime with my romance is my go-to lol

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

Finishing it. Kidding. Kinda. Not really.

Actually, though, the dialogue and banter is pretty good. It reads very natural, so I'm proud of that.

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

Only what I mentioned above. I wrote the attack on Ian, Mickey sitting with him in hospital ... it wasn't good.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

Oh, the moment where Ian finds the camera and leaves it. He'd just heard Mickey tell him that he stopped watching before things got interesting, and that's what he's thinking about as he puts the camera back down with a smirk. About Mickey not stopping just as things get interesting. I had thought about writing it, too. A scene where Mickey doesn't close the laptop, working consent into it and Ian putting on a fucking show

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I don't think so. I'm pretty happy with most of it.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Kinda did. Wouldn't be opposed to doing more. All the cream pie banter I'm rereading is def giving me inspo for if I write more of them oops

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

I think I mentioned this in the commentary for Thicker Than Forget, but Jim Morrison/The Doors lyrics. I don't know, man, it just works for me haha.

Also the name thing - Gallagher/Ian/baby and Mickey/Mick.

There's also the line "It’s gone from bartender and customer having a bit of fun flirting and teasing, to silk sheets and Nine Inch Nails pounding through the speakers." - The NIN might be a reference to Help Me (Tear Down My Reasons) 😏 iykyk

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Excited. Probably more excited to post ch2, though, just for the reaction to Mickey being the thief haha

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

@whaticameherefor always 💜

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

@i-think-you-mean-reduction asked for the scene where Ian asks Mickey on a date which I've pasted below.

A couple of notes on it:

The Riverwalk Cocktail Festival is a real thing in Chicago

I put a stupid amount of research into finding them the perfect date and this just fits.

Reading it back, I love that the Mickey doesn't think of the thief or anything to do with that shit once during this conversation. It's just two guys who like each other, and one's asking the other out on a date. It's just happy.

I think Mickey was so surprised that Ian was asking him out that everything he said and felt and thought was genuine. He even has a moment of "Fucking finally" that he doesn't mean to say, but 100% means.

I'm sad they never did it.

“Just my gut.” He pauses. Smiles. “Speaking of … in the interest of trusting my gut with my personal life as well as my professional life, have you heard of the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival next month?” Your heart skips a beat. Yeah, you’re heard of the fucking festival, and you can’t believe Ian’s doing this. “I’ve been a few times,” you tell him. “Sandy and I go under the pretence of work, and then get shit-faced.” “Okay, so do you maybe wanna go again?” He fingers go back to the coaster, but again he keeps eye contact. “But, you know, with me instead of Sandy.” There’s nothing romantic about the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival unless you go to the Riverwalk Cocktail Festival with romantic intentions. If you go with a date then it’s stupidly fucking romantic and you and Sandy used to talk shit about those assholes every chance you got, but … But the idea of being one of those couples, of going with Ian and having it be romantic … it makes you sick to your stomach how much you like the idea. “You askin’ me on a date, Gallagher?” He stares at you, eyes wide and honest. “Yeah.” “Fuckin’ finally.” You don’t mean to say it. You think it and you mean it, but you don’t mean to say it. Ian’s smile, though, makes the slip worth it. “So that’s a yes?” “Yeah.” “Good.” He smiles. Fucking beams. “Because I’ve already bought tickets, so I would’ve been kinda fucked if you’d said no.” “You already bought tickets?” “Some might call it presumptuous; I call it optimistic.” You shake your head. “Ian, man, those tickets are expensive as fuck –” “Doesn’t matter.” “Matters. At least let me pay you back for mine.” You already know he won’t let you pay for both of them. “Not a chance. This is me trusting my gut, asking you out, and feeling really good about it.” A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” He smiles right back. “You wanna pull me out of that good feeling, the one I get when you agree to go on a date with me, by bringing up my money woes? Or do you wanna talk about our date and agree upon matching outfits?” “You better be fucking joking.”

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

So, as mentioned above there was a good chunk of time where nothing was updated. If you were someone who left a kudos or a comment or messaged me on here during that time, or even continued reading when I finally updated, please know it meant a lot.

[floralcyanide]

˚₊✩‧₊◜kinktober 2023! ―

― day five ⛧ praise kink*

Ghostface!Mickey Altieri x F!Reader

*please read the warnings before reading. you are responsible for your triggers and media consumption.

After breaking up with Mickey for his dark side, he kidnaps you and uses one of his favorite things about you against you.

warnings: smut, rape/non-con, knife play, blood, blood play, torture, kidnapping, strangulation, choking, oral sex (m receiving), vomiting, gagging, cum eating

word count: 1075

author's note: please read the warnings. please read the warnings. please read the warnings! this fic contains non-consent or rape. this is the first time I've ever written something like this so bear with me lol I hope everyone enjoys this if you're into non-con/dub-con. if this isn't for you or if it will trigger you, I beg you to not read. this one is for all my disturbed mickey bitches ily

kinktober masterpost | kinktober taglist form | main masterlist | main taglist form

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛ�� ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

It was your favorite thing in the world to make your boyfriend Mickey proud. And it soon became engraved into him, and he thrived on that feeling of pride. Whether it was making good grades on your exams and papers or just making him smile at you for something you did, his chest would swell, and he’d beam at you with that money-making grin of his. You’d do anything to make Mickey happy like that, and he’d do anything for you to make him that way, even if you had to be tortured. That sounds a little far, of course, but you couldn't stand to be around him ever since you found out what Mickey had been doing behind your back. Murder wasn’t a green flag for you. And now that you didn’t want to be with him, it would take a little roughness to get you to bend to his will- anything to chase that feeling.

Your eyes glare into Mickey’s, blood filling your eyesight from the vessels in your eyes bursting from him choking you for so long and so violently. He had almost killed you but decided against it. Now, your ears are ringing, and your eyes burn from the foreign substance clouding your vision. The feeling of dread, horror, and betrayal filling your veins almost makes you wish you had already died. Mickey glares back with a sick smile as he wields a knife in his hands. He’s been waiting for this- the moment to fully have you. He was too worried about hurting you before during sex with his risky ideas, but now that none of that mattered, you were at his mercy. You’re tied to a chair in a basement somewhere, the lights off mostly, leaving the two of you in the dim lighting. You don’t remember how you even got here, so you figure Mickey must’ve done something to you to knock you out and bring you here. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” Mickey taunts, pressing the tip of the knife into the apex of your neck, slowly dragging it up to your chin and lifting it with the blade.

You don’t let up on your glare, clenching your jaw in resistance. Mickey sneers, leaving a small cut on the underside of your chin as a threat. You yelp at the sharp sensation of a small area of skin splitting open, blood dribbling down your throat and onto your lap. Why not just slit your throat already? Mickey unzips his jeans, pulling out his cock from his underwear. He grabs your chin, blood smearing on his hand.

“Obey me, and maybe I’ll let you live,” Mickey smirks, roughly letting go of your face, “If not, well, we’ll see if you dare.”

Mickey starts jerking himself off with his bloody hand, shoving his hips into your face as he grips your hair harshly. He brings your head forward so your lips press against his length involuntarily. Mickey then prods your mouth open with his tip before you can bare your jaw down to deny entrance. The taste of his salty precum mixed with the stark metallicity of blood hits your tongue as you stop resisting and take Mickey into your mouth. You might as well get this over with so you can go home, right? Mickey doesn’t give you a chance to even bob your head yourself as he guides your face along his length harshly, causing you to gag around him. You nearly vomit from the ferocity of Mickey’s thrusts and shoving. But you try your best to breathe through your nose as he fucks your mouth without signs of stopping any time soon. You struggle against your restraints and struggle to sit in the chair comfortably as a whole, as Mickey is moving so fast that the chair scrapes against the floor. His hips snap into your face almost violently, tears freely streaming down your face in a mixture of crying and tears from choking. 

“You’re doing so well, baby girl. So good for me.”

The praise sends a weird feeling to the pit of your stomach. The familiar butterflies of your feelings for Mickey, mixed with the suffering, make you feel sick.

Mickey now has both hands in your hair, forcefully moving your entire head back and forth as fast as feasible. The sound of you gagging and retching only makes Mickey harder on your tongue. You feel numb, but sit there and take it the best you can. Suddenly, your stomach turns when Mickey hits a certain angle at the back of your throat, causing your insides to bubble up your chest and out of your mouth around Mickey. But he doesn’t stop. In fact, he keeps going and laughs at you making a mess of yourself. Your face burns in shame and agony, your sobs making it hard for Mickey to properly fuck your mouth.

“Stop crying,” Mickey rolls his eyes, “It’s hot, but you’re making this harder for the both of us. Be a doll and look pretty.”

You try to control your breathing as Mickey groans, twitching inside your velvety mouth. You hollow your cheeks, hoping to urge his orgasm quicker so this situation can end. 

“Fuck yes, suck me off like you always do. You’re so good at it,” Mickey coos, “Maybe I’ll make you cum as a reward.”

You almost want to physically recoil at the thought of him touching you ever again, but refrain. 

Mickey moans as his length slides down the back of your throat just right, sending him over the edge. Hot cum spurts in your mouth and down your throat, and you gag at the sensation. Mickey pulls out and quickly clamps your mouth shut.

“Swallow,” he demands, “Be a good cum slut and swallow it, I know you can.”

Mickey strokes your chin wound with his thumb as you reluctantly swallow the mixture of his load, your sickness, and spit mixed with your blood that didn’t fall out of your mouth earlier from the oral. Your jaw is almost locked and in pain, and your throat is searing. Your nose burns from breathing so hard through it, and your wrists and ankles are sore from moving around so much. You desperately wanted to get out of here. But with the way Mickey looks at you with that knife in his back pocket, you’re not so sure you will be.

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[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

??? Is this where I drop by to share my headcanons about House of Mouse Yuu? Tumblr is so confusing. Anyway, back on track.

It’s a newer idea of mine but I am kicking and screaming about the idea of a Detective! Yuu!

She starts to get suspicious of things after Leona’s overblot. Things are WAY too convenient to be mere coincidences. She at first brushed off Riddle’s overblot as a one time thing. It was clear that Riddle was long overdue for his damn to break.

But Leona, a man of great intelligence as well as physical strength that can beat ten men like he’s squishing a cockroach overblotting during the biggest, most important events for him? Plotting against Diasomnia’s team was clearly only the first layer. The time and place was way too convenient. If Yuu hadn’t been there to find out his secret plan and fool him, it’s likely Leona would have succeeded. What Yuu thought was just a petty ploy for revenge against people who always saw Leona as lesser turns into a game of follow the strings.

Don’t even get me started on book three. Illegal scamming and forced labor? Suspicious. Yuu finds it way too odd that she had the perfect team to beat the overblot after she foils another housewarden’s scheme. Any why so soon after Leona’s overblot? A few months between each blot fight might seem large to some but three overblots in the span of a school year? Each one perfectly linking the first to the next? It doesn’t seem plausible that THREE students secretly decided to act out plans of demise only to overblot afterwards?

Yuu knew they all had sob backstories but GEEZE. (Even Idia found it suspicious about the amount of overblots)

And now, how this all plays out into the House of Mouse.

Yuu goes about her work like a normal person, except she’s incredibly talented at solving puzzles or word games. If there’s an accident in the kitchen while no one is there watching, Yuu puts together clues and finds the answers in record time.

Patrons like Roger (from 101 Dalmatians)might bring a newspaper to the club one night to have some fun with the word cross only to get befuddled when suddenly Yuu pops up behind him and gives him the answers to the hardest ones because she knows it’s rude to ruin people’s fun. Yuu gives Roger a pat on the back and continues on with serving the villains’ food and drinks.

Yuu just knowing oddly specific information about things the crew like Donald or Mickey might not know. For example knowing exactly what Goofy had for breakfast despite being in Twisted Wonderland all morning or where Donald left that one CD in his house boat that he could never seem to find. Or if Minnie and the others can’t remember a code for a work computer or something like that, Yuu walks in when she hears about it and simply types in the entire 20 digit code from memory and then walks out again like it was nothing. Even when Minnie is very sure she never told Yuu the code to that specific device. And that no one had told Yuu, either. (I don’t know why they wouldn’t tell her-maybe for security/safety reasons? Y’know, with Pete{is that his name? I haven’t watched HoM lately} always trying to destroy the HoM?)

Omg—I didn’t realize how much I was rambling until I scrolled?! So I’ll leave you with these last few bits!

•Grim wearing a beige trenchcoat and fedora during the second book while they try to figure out what Leona is hiding and Yuu not having the heart to tell him that’s not actually how detectives/investigators actually dress

•Yuu having multiple impossible to solve rubiks cubes and hand written what-if scenario essays scattered inside her dressing room to pass the time

•Yuu having AT LEAST three makeup items like lipstick or a compact mirror that is actually gadgets like a mini sleep-dart gun or just simply using the mirror to spy on people behind her

•Yuu playing video games like ‘bomb diffuser simulator’ or murder mystery board games like Clue when Ace, Deuce, and others come over

•Yuu ironically/purposefully using a cork board and red string when solving cases just because it’s fun

Okay so when you first said Detective!Yuu, my first thought went to The Great Mouse Detective. Like imagine Yuu and Basil of Baker Street being mystery solving besties (with Basil sitting on her shoulder or breast pocket). I feel like detective!Yuu would remind Basil of Sherlock Holmes (especially in that one scene in the Savanaclaw manga where Grim wears the classic deerstalker and is holding a smoking pipe)

Meanwhile Professor Ratigan is sulking because he was supposed to be besties with her.

I remember there was this one Goofy cartoon which was 'How To Be A Detective' and Yuu is just in the sidelines shaking her head and laughing at all of his antics.

Since Yuu is just a teenager I reckon that she wouldn't be an actual detective but would be more like the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew or the characters in the Enid Blyton books, 'Famous Five' or 'The Five Find-Outers and Dog.

I bet that she even goes head on with Professor Von Drake for a battle of the minds when he gets too full of himself (and then beats him, much to Mickey's amusement).

[callsign-peach]

Signs

request(s): A fic where ur maverick’s daughter and roosters best friend and Jake tries to hit on you but fails? + Can I request something where Jake is dating someone deaf? I don’t see a lot of representation and I feel like there should be more! Thx!

warnings: i'm not deaf, so there will most likely be inaccuracies, but i did take asl in high school and have kept in contact w/ some Deaf classmates

a/n: sign language is in italics, written out in english rather than asl format ---- Bradley waited for Pete to finish with the newest class of Top Gun students, knee bouncing as he sat in one of the empty seats.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?"

Bradley rolled his eyes at his wingman, and Jake narrowed his eyes. "This the same reason why Maverick cancelled training for tomorrow?"

At the mention of his name, the Captain walked into the room, flight suit tied around his waist. "What did I do?"

"Rooster's gonna bounce a hole into the floor, all I asked is if it was the same reason you're letting the new guys off the hook tomorrow?"

Pete nodded, grabbing his eyes. "It is. Come on, kid. We're gonna be late."

Bradley waisted no time, hopping up and following his godfather out of the room.

Jake stared at the two retreating men. "See you tomorrow, I guess!"

Hours later, the go-to drinking hole near base was filing up as usual.

"What's on tap tonight, Penny my dear?" Jake asked, sauntering into The Hard Deck.

The older woman looked up from where she was drying glasses, soft smile on her face. "Same as usual, Jake."

The aviator thought for a moment, before ordering his usual. "Hey, do you know why Rooster was all anxious today? Could barely keep up with the drills."

"I do, yes."

"Why?"

"Oh no, not getting an answer out of me that easily. They'll tell you when they want you to know. Now," Penny nodded over to Javy near the dartboard, "I think you're needed over by the back."

Jake huffed, taking his pint and going over to his best friend. "Hey, you ready to lose?"

The two men played a couple rounds of darts before the rest of the Dagger squad arrived, the group starting their usual game of pool.

"There he is!" Mickey cheered, thankful Bradley had shown up. "Finally, someone who can rival Phoenix at pool."

Bradley snorted, taking the cue from his friend's hand. "How many games you lose, Fanboy?"

"Too many." The shorter aviator frowned, going to the bar to grab another round.

Jake was distracted, eyeing up the woman who had walked into the bar a few moments after his friend. "I'll be right back."

No one seemed to hear him, so he nodded his head and dipped from the group, going to introduce himself to the mystery woman.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked.

No response, not even a pity smile.

Jake sighed, wracking his mind to figure out if he had seen this woman on base, with another aviator or sailor, anything to explain her lack of response.

"Okay, no drink, anything on the food menu you like?" Jake asked, presuming the woman wasn't into drinking.

Still no response, so he nodded to himself and made the walk of shame back to his friends, who had since noticed his disappearance.

"She give you the cold shoulder?" Rueben asked, laughing at his friend.

Bradley had a smirk on his lips as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. "Nice one, Bagman."

"Like you could do any better, Bradshaw." Jake shot back, finishing off his beer.

"I'm sure I could, but not with her."

"Why?" Mickey asked, always ready for gossip among the aviators.

Bradley was silent for a moment. "That's Mav's daughter, closest thing to a sister I have. So," Bradley set his bottle on the table. "I'd rather go through Coffin Corner again than ask her out."

"Maverick has a daughter? Since when?" Mickey voiced the question everyone but Bradley was thinking.

"Since her mom dumped her at Mav's place when she was three." Bradley's voice lacked emotion. "I'll never forget when he first showed up with her, thought my mom was going to lose her mind right then and there."

Not knowing how to change the topic subtly, Bob was the first one to speak up, asking if anyone wanted to rack the balls for a new game. --- Tying his flight suit around his waist, Jake started walking over to the hangar where he knew Pete would be, hoping to get advice on some improvements for his next module for the Ensigns.

He stopped when he saw the man standing in front of his own plane, hands moving rapidly.

"Oh." Jake mumbled softly, wishing he had been anywhere else, not about to break up what appeared to be an argument.

Pete turned his head when he heard Jake accidentally kick an abandoned wrench. "Hangman?"

"Could I talk to you for a second, Mav? If you have time, no rush." Jake spoke quickly, eyes dancing between the two, noticing the similarities of father and daughter.

"Yeah, yeah, just-" Pete signed something to his daughter, who huffed and stormed away, eyes catching Jake's for a brief moment.

"What's up?" Pete asked, wiping his hands on the rag in his pocket, some oil sticking to his knuckles.

"I was going over the plan that you said we could use for the new guys, and I noticed some stuff was different than what Admiral Kane wants them to know."

Pete stared at the young aviator. "Is there a reason why you came to me rather than just going to ask Kane?"

Not having a good reply, Jake opened his mouth before clamping it shut.

"That was my daughter." Pete explained, nodding to the open hangar doors.

"Yeah, Bradshaw mentioned it the other night. I didn't know you had a daughter."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Hangman." Pete spoke, voice clipped. "Just- for the plans, put in whatever Kane wants to add. That's what I do."

Jake nodded, thanking his superior. "Thanks, Mav." --- You watched as Bradley thanked the barista, taking the two cups from him and walking back over to the table you had claimed when you walked in.

"A coffee for you." Bradley said, setting one cup down on the table, taking a long sip from the other.

Who's the blonde guy you fly with? You asked, wasting no time with small talk. You had known the man across from you for almost your entire life, you knew he was always going to say he was doing fine.

Bradley coughed on the coffee, setting down his cup. Why?

I asked first. Who is he?

"No one you need to concern yourself with." Bradley spoke as he signed, a habit of his. "His callsign's Hangman. He's known for leaving his wingman."

The callsign was familiar to you, your dad having mentioned him after the uranium mission. He's the one who saved you and Dad. Why do you hate him?

"I don't hate him, but I don't particularly like him, either." Bradley took another swig from his drink. "Again, why do you want to know who he is?"

Shrugging, you brought the coffee to your lips. Curiosity.

Bradley knew you well enough to guess where the conversation was heading. "He's going to break your heart, he's not one to settle down."

Doesn't hurt to ask. Will he be at the bar?

"Yes, why?" Bradley asked, not liking where this conversation was going.

You're going to introduce me, I want to know the guy who saved the lives of the two most important people in my life.

"Fine, but not just to him. That'll be too weird. You can meet everyone." Bradley wagered, smiling when you relented to his ask. --- Bradley chewed on his lip as he waited for your Lyft to drop you off outside the bar.

Both he and Pete had offered to drive you over to the bar, but they both had to be on-base all day, and you had spent the day in San Diego, so a ride-share made the most sense.

“Hey, Rooster, why don’t you get a beer, she’ll text you when she’s here.” Pete joined his godson outside.

“I’m good.”

“Bradley.” Pete looked at the younger aviator. “She can handle herself, has been for a while now.”

Growing up, Bradley had been your guardian angel, so-to-speak. He was in the grade above you, and was a force to be feared when the kids at school made fun of you.

“She still like ciders?” Bradley asked, standing from where he was hunched, leaning on the railing.

“Oh yes, first thing she asked for after you dropped us off.”

Bradley laughed, going in to order two hard ciders.

---

You smiled at the driver as you got out of the car, making sure you had your phone and purse before closing the door.

You had texted Bradley that you were in front, but assuming he was with his friends, you didn’t wait for him to greet you.

Pulling the door open, you were met with the smell of stale alcohol and multiple colognes, creating a unique smell you hadn’t realized you missed.

Penny smiled from the bar, nodding her head over to the corner where you noticed Bradley’s distinct Hawaiian shirt.

Sending her a smile, you made your way over, moseying around a few khaki-clad men and women.

Bradley spun around when he felt a tap on his shoulder, face breaking out into a wide smile.

“Hey, you made it!” He greeted you, handing you the hard cider that he had gotten a few minutes ago.

Having noticed the newcomer, the dagger squad all paused their game of pool, wanting to meet you.

“Everyone, this is Mav’s daughter,” Bradley introduced you, before pointing to each member and signing as he spoke.

It’s nice to finally put faces to the names my dad has been praising for a while. You signed, Bradley interpreting for you.

“I thought Rooster was pulling our legs when he said Mav had a kid, honestly.” Mickey said, smiling at you.

Jake had been silent during the introductions, choosing to watch as you reacted to each callsign, eyebrow raising when Bob was mentioned.

He noticed the twinkle in your eye, and how you had a scar poking above your eyebrow. He noticed that you were wearing some cut-off shorts and a loose top, the go-to for the hot San Diego summers.

“-is Hangman, but you already knew that.”

Jake was brought out of his thoughts when he heard his name, smiling at you. “It’s nice to see you again. Hopefully all’s well with your dad?”

Bradley signed Jake’s words, and you snorted.

“He’s just an old man who doesn’t know his head from- no, I’m not going to interpret that. Oh my God.” Bradley groaned. “It was a mistake introducing you to everyone.”

You slapped his shoulder, though you had a smile on your face.

The dagger squad had accepted you with open arms, and Mickey wasted no time telling you the dirt on the rest of the squad, Bradley having even learned a thing or two.

---

Over the following days, Jake had learned more about you from his flights with Bradley. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“If I say no, are you going to ask me anyway?” Bradley asked, squinting as he looked over at his wingman as the two went over the post-flight checklist.

“No.”

The answer stunned Bradley, who was honestly expecting the opposite. “Ask away.”

Jake paused, gnawing on his lip. “Is Y/N seeing anyone?”

Bradley looked up from where he was scribbling the time they finished flying. “Why?”

Shrugging, Jake toyed with the dog tags, a nervous habit he had developed during the uranium mission training. “Curiosity.”

Bradley chuckled at the answer, remembering when you had replied the same the other day when he asked why you wanted to know about Jake.

“No. She’s not seeing anyone.”

Jake smiled, wiping a speck of dirt off his helmet.

“I know it’s hard for you, but try not to do anything stupid. She’s been though enough, getting played doesn’t have to be on that list.”

---

Days later, you were sitting at the cafe you and Bradley often met at, though this time you were nose-deep in potential employers.

A sudden shift on the table made you jump, heart racing. Looking up, you let out a breath when you saw Jake.

“Sorry, sorry!” He said, fist moving in a circle around his chest.

Stunned, you pointed to him and rose an eyebrow. You sign?

Jake blanched, sitting in the seat across from you. “Clearly not enough.”

You laughed, pulling your phone out of your purse and opening the Notes app.

Do you know sign language? You signed sorry.

Jake looked at you as you passed the phone over, eyes falling to the screen.

“I don’t, not enough to hold a conversation.” Jake spoke, thankful Bradley had mentioned that you could get by reading lips, so long as the person didn’t speak too fast or too slow.

“But I’m learning. I’d really like to get to know you, and what better way than learning a new language?”

You smiled, grabbing your phone.

No one has ever done that before. Thank you, Jake. What do you know now?

Jake smiled, rambling off the various words and phrases he had memorized, smile growing as you nodded for encouragement and helped fix the positioning for certain words.

You’ll be a pro in no time, it took Dad weeks to learn this stuff!

Laughing, the two of you spent hours talking, getting to know each other, before you two were nicely kicked out of the cafe so they could close.

“It was nice getting to talk to you, can we do this again?” Jake asked, not wanting the night to end.

I’d love that. You signed, mouthing the words as you did.

The two of you set a night each week to meet up, and before anyone knew it, the two of you were inseparable, finishing each other’s sentences.

---

a/n: do i get the award for not knowing how to finish anything? Because I think I do!!

send requests

[cowgurrrl]

I know you've written about how rockstar!joel and actress!reader experienced paparazzi but a recent video of rachel ziegler handling the paparazzi well really made me think about how actress!reader would handle them in a similar fashion. they're horrible in general and I feel like actress!reader would tell them off but in a smart, sassy sense lol.

the video of rachel, she told them "sorry??? I'm human talk to me as such" and I think that's how actress!reader would go about keeping them and even if the kids were around too. her and joel, in my mind at least, have a different way of handling them and that's how actress!reader would handle them i feel. (joel thinks his wife is a badass for that because ofc! love to see it!!!)

Oh, Joel does not fuck around when it comes to paparazzi. He has little to no patience and will do everything so their photos are unsellable. Anything from flipping off the camera to mumbling answers to TMZ to even pulling up a picture of Mickey Mouse on his phone and holding it up so paps can’t sell the photos unless they’re willing to pay Disney. It’s extremely smart.

You are a little more gracious. Everybody has to make a living. If you’re on your own, you’ll tolerate a few pictures and questions as long as they’re reasonable and won’t get you in trouble. That, of course, changes once you get pregnant. You still answer questions about work and vaguely say something about the baby being good but you don’t indulge them with details such as your due date, the sex of the baby, or possible names. You figure your good standing with the paparazzi will help you when it comes to concealing Sam and the girls. The flashes and mob scare them and your publicity team has a deal that if they do get pictures of you and the kids out that they have to blur the kids faces unless you change the order (which you won’t do until Sam is eighteen and even then you’re reluctant).

One day, when Sam and the girls are little and you’re still in your two-year time off period to be Mom, you’re going to the grocery store with your very young kid and babies. It’s stressful for any mom to have to wrangle that many small children but especially when people are surrounding you, taking pictures. You do your best to distract the kids, cover their faces, and keep yourself calm but it’s hard. “Can we have some space, please?” You ask politely as you struggle with the double stroller and wiggly babies. While you’re strapping Sophia into the stroller, you hear one of the paps say Sam’s name and ask him something. You don’t even fully hear the question but it doesn’t stop you from whipping around and pulling Sam behind you.

“Did you seriously just ask my five-year-old a question?” You snap. It’s one thing for you to get hounded by the press, but your kid? “He’s a kid. What answer are you expecting to get out of him? Do you want me to find your children and grill them about something while taking pictures of them?” The photographer starts to apologize but you don’t let him. “My kindergartener isn’t media trained or used to people shoving cameras in his face just like every other fucking kindergartner on earth. Can you, please, treat him as such and leave us alone so I can go buy diapers and bread for my family?” They back off, finally, and let you finish loading up the kids. You and Joel’s team sends cease and desist’s to all the photographers who got pictures of the kids that day and orders them destroyed. If a single picture of your children emerges on the internet that neither of you posted, a lawsuit will be sent before the end of the hour and not just one. Two.

One thing becomes very clear to the press that day: Don’t fuck with the Miller kids.

[new-berry]

Berryyyyy pls send me a wip to get stuck into Im scared there’s no writing left in my soul

What tickles you?

They are more “openings” than WIP I guess.

I think this was going to be Iris Law /Trent /Jude before that morphed. This would be ANY threesome. This would be Mickey so long last name and Cuti and Son. Or two kids trying to seduce some other kid (for kid I mean early twenties adults).

———

Come watch the game.’ There’s ‘with us’ implied in there. There usually is these days. There’s a beat, enough time to blink your eyes, take a breath, have a knee jerk response. And the “please” comes a second later. The well raised boy, or the reminder from someone off-screen.

Jude looks at his phone. Like if he turns it over he will see the “us”. Like a second face will be superimposed on the screen. “What game?” He sends back.

“Duh.” Is the reply. Trent isn’t texting then. There is an image of a dark skinned chest, it’s not a selfie, taken from too far away, Trent posed in an angle of sunshine, his face isn’t in the picture. That doesn’t stop Jude’s instant identification.

“Game of life?” Is written under it. A close up of the waist band of England issue sweat pants, Trent’s cock pushing up against them. “Spin the bottle.”

“Ok” Jude sends back before he can talk himself out of it.

It’s embrassing being so helpless around him. Around them both.

———

This is my Bruno and Sven but cut and paste those names to whatever works.

“This was a bad idea.” Bruno says. Which is nothing new, but he’s wrong. It’s was a good idea, it’s always been a good idea.

“We can’t do this again.” Bruno always sounds so very very sure when he says things like that. Once he’s come over Sven or inside him. Once the alcohol has worn off, or the winner’s triumph has burned away

But then he’s always sounded very sure when he’s talking his way into Sven’s bed as well.

Sven doesn’t flinch when Bruno makes his announcement. He doesn’t flinch when Bruno turns away from his hand. It’s not like he didn’t know exactly how this was going to end when he agreed. Again.

Sven is an expert at not reacting. No twitching or flinching or begging. Not that Bruno would see in the dark they always do this in. He’s gone by the time that Sven gets out of the shower.

( And then I wrote a bit for the next part …)

“Yeah actually no.” Bruno goes instantly still. “What?” Sven can’t see him. And he doesn’t know that tone of voice he’s using, something like talking to the media after a loss.

“This is a bad idea. You can stay if you want? There’s a spare room. Or stay in here it’s fine. Or the couch it’s comfortable. “ Sven jams his lips shut on the babble.

“I can go if you want.” Bruno says.

“No” Sven thinks. “Fuck no fuck no fuck no.”

“I only want you to stay if you stay the night.”

Bruno’s voice is, genuinely kind. Sven thinks that’s probably the worse than when he says. “I don’t want to stay the night.”

Sven thanks god for inventing night time and darkness and blackout curtains. And curses him for inventing love and Brazil.

Good thing Bruno has so much experience, getting re-dressed in the dark. After he leaves Sven stumbles to the couch and sleeps there. It doesn’t smell like Bruno’s cologne.

———-

Fabian Anthony. This was actually the first thing I wrote with Anthony but I never finished it. So any older defender younger forward.

Fabian was actually not up becuase of insomnia, although he had carefully put that myth out when he started at the club.

He was just visiting an old friend. A new old friend. A discrete new friend. From an app. Discretion something that is not even in the same time zone as Anthony right now.

Insomnia and late night walks. If you go out often enough in training clothes and come back looking like you actually went for a walk not one notices the times you come back looking like a night out. Not that a night out on the road is common for him anymore But then he is far from 21, and he’s not the one is about the show himself to be an almighty fuck up.

And Anthony doesn’t know he’s fucked up of course. Because by any metric- that isn’t Eddie Howe and the desperate desire of Geordies to win anything shiny - he hasn’t fucked up. He’s 21 and pretty fucking normal. Fabian takes in the face of the person dropping him down the road from the team hotel and getting pretty enthusiastically snogged goodbye. Well he’s normal for about ten percent of the population.

I’m sure I have pages more of that. Pages!

The rest are just porn probably.

[blackwidownat2814]

Magical Mystery Ride (J.Seresin)

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x plus size!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x librarian!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Garcia!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x latina!reader

Word Count: 4719

A/N: This was written for @roosterforme's Love Is In the Air challenge. The song I chose was John Legend's romantic hit, All of Me; it's what inspired the title! Thanks once again to the incomparable, amazing, sweet @jobean12-blog for her help beta-ing and letting me bounce ideas off her when I'd get stuck.

Trigger Warnings: Bob has an accident that isn't described. Jake has an accident that is described. Depressed Jake. Negative feelings of self-worth. I know absolutely nothing about comas because I am not a doctor.

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog.⚠️‼️

Masterlist

You didn’t think you’d be back here so soon.  The pale cream walls of BMC MCAS Miramar taunted you as you made your way down the hall.  Everyone had just been here a few weeks before when Bob had been recovering from a training accident.  You weren’t privy to the details of said accident, but all you knew was that Jake was directly at fault.

And even though Bob forgave Jake, the guilt was absolutely crushing him.

You hadn’t been to see Bob in the first couple of days after the accident because you knew he was going to feel overwhelmed with the squad, Mav, Penny, and quite a few others checking on him.  You sent a ‘Get Well’ gift with Mickey and you texted with him regularly.  When you finally went to go see him, you heard Jake’s raised voice.

“How can you say that to me Bob?” Jake snapped.  “How can you forgive me for that stupid mistake when it almost cost you your life?”

“Jake, did you do it on purpose?  Did you do that with the express purpose of killing me?” Bob asked quietly.  You could hear Jake stammering, like he was so appalled that Bob would ask him that and he just couldn’t form an answer.

“Hell no.  Of course not!” he cried.  “I may act like an asshole, and tease you like we were kids in school, but I’m not that guy.  You’re one of my favorite people, man.  Dewey loves you like you were another brother, and I love her, so…”

“Then why shouldn’t I forgive you?”  Jake didn’t respond, so you made some noise to alert them you were heading their way.

You walked into Bob’s hospital room with a smile and went to greet him first.

“Hey Bobbers, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m getting there.”

“Good.”  You gave him a kiss on the temple and turned to see an expressionless look on Jake’s face.  You pulled him into a hug, which he seemed less than enthusiastic to return. “Jake?”

Jake wouldn’t look at you.  His eyes focused on the floor.

“I, uh…I’m gonna go now.”

“But J-”  He swept out of Bob’s hospital room without so much as a ‘goodbye’ to either of you.  You were staring at the doorway your boyfriend had just walked out of when you heard your name being called, your real name.  You went and took a seat at Bob’s bedside.

“He’s just beating himself up over what happened.  Jake’s one of the best–don’t you ever tell him I said that–and so when he messed up, and someone got hurt, it threw him for a loop.”

“I just wish I knew how to help him.”

“Just give him time Dewey.”

You gave him time.  Everyone did.  Bob was released several days later, and Jake wouldn’t look him in the eye when Bob (once again) told him that he forgave him.

“I mean it Jake”, Bob said.  “You don’t need to hold this over yourself.  You didn’t do it on purpose.  I forgive you.”  

“You shouldn’t.”  Jake picked up his things and turned back towards him.  “You shouldn’t forgive me.  I ruin every good thing I touch.”

That’s the day it started…at least, that’s what Bob and the others told you.  Jake started to be more reckless with his flying.  Jake was no longer dripping in confidence to which everyone was accustomed.  Mickey would tell you that he appeared to lose his confidence, in his abilities to be the best and just about everything else.

You saw it too, if you were lucky to see him. When you did see him, he barely held you; at first it was just holding your hand and kisses at the corner of your mouth.  It eventually whittled down to no touches or kisses at all.  He barely acknowledged you, except for saying ‘Hey’ when he noticed you were around.  You knew what was happening: he was pulling away.

You did everything you could to show him that despite his mistake, you still loved him and you always would.  Jake wouldn’t accept that, however, so you decided not to push anymore.  You’d be there when he was ready, but you wouldn’t push because you knew that would only drive him farther away.

You stood in the doorway of Room 2188, watching the gentle rise and fall of Jake’s chest.  His sister, Lauren (Jesse and Isla’s mom), was sitting with him

“You know, Jake, the girls miss you.  They keep asking when they can see Uncle Jake.”  She sniffled a little before continuing.  “So I’m going to need you to wake up.  For them, for me, for Leslie, for Coyote and all your other friends…but especially for your girl.  I know you love her and she loves you.  You miss him somethin’ awful, don’t ya, Dewey?”

You hadn’t realized she knew you were there.

“Very much”, you replied.  Lauren stood as you walked over and hugged her.  “Any change?”

“None.”  You could see she was tired.  She’d spent the entire night at the hospital since you weren’t allowed to.  You and Jake weren’t married so you weren’t ‘family’.

“Go get some rest.  Get you a shower and something to eat.  The girls are probably tired of Rooster and Coyote.  I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“I think it’s more the other way around to be honest.”  She gave you a big hug before gathering her things to leave.  “Thanks Dewey.  We’ll get our Jake back soon.”

“I hope so.”  Lauren shut the door as she left.  You leaned forward and kissed Jake’s hair since his face had several bruises that you didn’t want to aggravate.  You sat down in the chair Lauren had been occupying and reached forward for Jake’s hand.  You made sure to avoid touching his side, where he was still healing from being impaled by a piece of debris (he had been lucky because the piece of jagged metal had missed major organs).

Before you could speak, there was a knock at the door and Dr. Bast stepped in.

“Hello Miss Garcia.  How’s our favorite librarian today?”  The doctor’s English accent was soothing and helped calm your nerves.

“Ok as I can be Doc.”

“That is quite understandable.”  Dr. Bast picked up Jake’s chart and started reading over the notes made by the night nurses.

“So, any theories as to why he hasn’t woken up yet?” you asked.

“Unfortunately not.  While he has no swelling in his brain, he did get thrown against the ground harder than we would like, so that’s what caused the traumatic brain injury, therefore the coma.  It could’ve been worse, had he not been wearing a helmet.”

You looked back at Jake, and brushed the hair from his forehead.  “I need you to come back to me cowboy, okay?  Please.”

“Don’t worry Miss Garcia, your lieutenant will be alright, even if I can’t tell you when.  He’s improving each day.”  Dr. Bast smiled at you from the other side of Jake’s hospital bed.  “Just keep talking to him, he’ll hear you.”

“I always thought that was a myth.”

“Patients may not hear every single thing, but they still hear you.  Anyways, I’ve also got a surprise for you: You’re being allowed overnight stays with Lt. Seresin.”

Your head whips around to the doctor.

“Really?”  He nods and you shoot out of your seat to pull him into a hug.  “Thanks so much Dr. Bast, I really appreciate it.”

“It was nothing.  Now, I’ll leave you to it.  We’ll be back to check on him later.”

You resume your post next to Jake’s bed once again, but you suddenly couldn’t stand the quiet, so you switched on the tv and were deep in commentary about a movie you were watching on Netflix called Set It Up (“You know, if you look real close at when Charlie and Harper are having pizza, you can see the exact moment he falls in love with her, I swear!”) when there was a knock at the door and your brother and Reuben stepped in.

“Hey hermanita.”

“Little Garcia.”

You stood and both men gave you almost bone-crushing hugs and pulled up chairs.

“Thanks for visiting guys.”

“Of course.  We needed to see how Jake was doing”, replied Mickey.  He took a deep breath before continuing.  “But we also came because we wanted to talk to you.”

“Fanboy, maybe we shouldn’t–”

“She needs to know man”, Mickey said, cutting off his pilot.

“But–”

“Guys!  What are you talking about?  What do I need to know?” you asked as you looked at your brother and Reuben.

“About the conversation we had with Jake the day of his accident.”

“What did he say Mickey?”

“You have to understand, he felt like shit after what happened to Bob.  All of us could see he’d lost confidence in himself and he wasn’t flying like we all know he should’ve been…”

“You need to get out of your head Hangman, or you’re going to make my sister a widow before you can make her a wife.”  

Jake felt the hurt of that comment in his spine.  It had been so long since Fanboy, or anyone for that matter, had said his callsign with such disdain, so it only piled on the hatred Jake was already feeling for himself.  It also didn’t help that he’d taken Fanboy to lunch to ask for his blessing to propose to Dewey a few days before Bob’s accident.

“Well, maybe she’d be better off without me.  I was the reason her best friend got hurt, and he could’ve died”, Jake said.  No one had ever heard him sound so defeated.  “Besides, I know you never liked me for her…”  Fanboy sighs.

“Jake…man, that’s not what I sa–”  Jake cuts him off.

“You thought it though.”  Fanboy was getting increasingly worried as the conversation continued.  “Maybe I should just go.  I’m probably only going to fuck up her life.”

“Jake.”

Before Jake could reply, he heard a horrible sound coming from his jet’s engines and alarms began going off in the cockpit.  He heard Payback and Fanboy calling out to him.

“Hangman, what’s going on?!”

“Is it a bird strike?” he heard Fanboy call out over coms.

“No, there’s something wrong with the engines!”  Suddenly he heard another grinding sound and then his left wing was on fire.

“Hangman!  Eject!” Maverick’s panicked voice came through his headset.  “Eject!”

“Extinguishing left engine!”  Jake went through the process of trying to quell the fire in the engine, when an alarm went off signaling the failure of his right engine.  “Damn it!  Extinguishing right engine!”

“HANGMAN!  EJECT NOW!”  Memories of the day of Phoenix and Bob’s crash years before played through Jake’s mind as Maverick screamed at him.  He tried starting the engines once more, if only to gain a bit more altitude so he could eject safely.  That did the same as it had when Phoenix tried it and it sent Jake’s Super Hornet spiraling.

Jake pulled the ejection handle and flew upwards as his jet made impact and exploded, sending debris flying at him.  He cried out in pain as he looked down to see a piece of metal sticking out of the left side of his abdomen.

And because luck was not on his side, a gust of wind sent him careening towards the ground.  The impact was enough to knock him completely out and as the darkness crept into his vision, his last thought was of you.

“...and if that hadn’t happened, he probably wouldn’t be in a coma”, Mickey said.  You had tears streaming down your face by the time Mickey finished (an abridged version) of his story.  Your brother and Reuben pulled you into a group hug.

“I’m sorry Little Garcia”, Reuben said.  “I know he’s going to be okay.  He’ll be back to normal, showin’ us all up in no time.”

“I hope so Reuben”, you replied.  “Thank you for telling me.”

“No problem hermanita.”  

Mickey and Reuben stayed a couple more hours, eventually leaving only because they had training to get to.

Eventually, Dr. Bast returned to do his nightly check on Jake, so you went down to the cafeteria to pick something up for your dinner.

The doctor was gone by the time you got back, so you settled in the chair and flipped the tv on just so you had something on in the background.  After dinner, Bob and Phoenix stopped by for a quick visit after training and dropped off a small bag of your things that Mickey had put together for you.

After your best friend and his pilot left, you decided to get ready for bed.  After Mickey’s story earlier, you felt emotionally drained.  It was when you were about to start your face care routine that you got an idea.  You put on your headband and grabbed the extra and left the bathroom to see Jake.

“I’ve decided that we’re going to have a spa night cowboy.  Now, I know you hate my cat ear headband, but you’re unconscious so you have no say.  Got to keep all that glorious hair out of the way you know.”  

You slipped it on and then went to the bathroom to do your cleanser.  After patting your face dry, you grabbed a package of face wipes, moisturizer, and a jar of eye masks and placed them on the small hospital bed table.  

Before you began anything, you opened Spotify on your phone and pulled up your Liked Songs playlist and tapped play.  The soothing tones of Henry James’ It’s Been A Long, Long Time started flowing from the speaker (it being the song that played on your drive to the hospital).  After setting aside the phone, you popped open the package of face wipes and carefully wiped his face clean.

Henry James segued into John Legend’s All of Me, one of your favorite romantic songs.  You started singing along quietly as you twisted open the jar of eye masks, and carefully place one sparkly patch under Jake’s right eye.

'Cause all of me

Loves all of you

Love your curves and all your edges

All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me

I'll give my all to you

You're my end and my beginning

Even when I lose, I'm winning

After you put down the patch under Jake’s left eye, you put the eye masks on yourself, sat down next to Jake, and put your hand in his.  You continued singing along, and it got to the last verse when you felt a squeeze.  The song was immediately paused and you turned to look at your pilot.

“Jake?  Sweetheart?”  His face showed no signs that he was waking, and his heart monitor was a steady beep.  Maybe I imagined it? you thought to yourself.  You were looking at your hands when you saw it happen.  It felt like the hundreds of movies you’d seen where the unconscious person heard something and they magically woke up.  

So, you watched and waited.

Nothing happened.

“Baby, can you turn it down?”

“Why does my face feel wet?”

“Where am I?”

“Dewey, why are you crying?  I can hear your crying.”

“Wait…why can’t I move?  Why can’t I open my eyes?”

“WHAT IS GOING ON?!”

Unfortunately, you were not privy to Jake’s inner turmoil.  You didn’t hear him calling out for you as you pulled the headband and eye masks off his face, tossed them into the trash can, pressed the call button.

It was a few minutes later when you heard a knock and Jake’s night nurse (who’d introduced herself earlier), Nurse Jo, stepped in.

“Everything okay, love?”

“Uh…um, he squeezed my hand.”

“Now, are you su–”

“I know what I felt and what I saw.  He squeezed my hand.  Twice.”

“I’ll page Dr. Bast.”  She noted your shining eyes and came over and placed a calming hand on your back.  “Don’t worry, love.  He’s going to be okay.  If anything, this was an indication that he might be coming out of the coma.”

“I hope so.”

You texted Lauren to update her on what was going on with Jake, because you needed her to know immediately.  You had just put away your phone when Dr. Bas came in.

“Jo, what have we got?”

“Miss Garcia informed me that Lt. Seresin squeezed her hand twice.”

“Are you s–”

“100%.”  You cut him off.  “I saw it happen.”  The doctor looked Jake over some more, before he typed up his notes in Jake’s file.

“I cannot, with absolute certainty, tell you why he squeezed your hand.  It could be random muscle spasms, it could be something worse.  However, it could also mean that he’ll be waking up soon.  I’m hoping it’s that.  For now, I’ll have the nurses increase their checks on him, as well as I’ll come a few extra times each day if my schedule permits.”

“Thank you so much.”

“I will caution you, however.  When he wakes up, it usually comes in stages.  This isn’t like the movies where he’ll open his eyes and automatically remember what happened, who you are or who he is.  He’ll most likely be suffering from post-traumatic amnesia, which would account for his potential memory loss and he could also become restless and agitated.  So it’s best to not take a lot of what he says in the first hours or days to heart, it’s just his brain rebooting.”

“Will he remember all that?  The time right after he wakes up?”

“I couldn’t tell you for certain.  It’s different with every person.  But also, none of what he says, if he even does, is one of those ‘this is how feels deep down in his subconscious’ type of things.  Like I said, don’t take any of it seriously.”

You looked over at Jake and ran your hand through his messy hair.

“Is there anything else I need to keep an eye out for?” you asked without looking back over at Dr. Bast.

He explained a few more things before he and Nurse Jo left the room.  You called Lauren and let her know everything the doctor had told you.  After you finished the call, you put on Spotify again (on random), and by some weird chance, ‘All of Me’ started playing again.

You smiled as you set a sleep timer and grabbed a pillow and blanket to get comfy in your chair for the night.

Lauren arrived the next morning, just in case.

Jake showed no other signs of waking up.

The next day was almost the same.  Except that Bob, Rooster, and Coyote came to visit and Lauren told them what Dr. Bast had told you.  At first, everything was normal.  But when Rooster started talking, Jake squeezed your hand.  You failed to connect the two incidents and didn’t mention it.

Coyote took over the conversation, then Lauren said something that caused Rooster to chime in and Jake did it again.  The more Rooster spoke, you finally started putting it together.  The group realized something was going on when they realized you weren’t even paying attention to the conversation.

“What’s going on?”  Lauren gave you a questioning look.

“Everytime Rooster talked, Jake squeezed my hand.”

“Ha.  Even out cold, Bagman can’t get enough of me”, Rooster said with a smile.  It had been a while since Jake and Rooster would consider themselves rivals, and thought of each other as the brother neither ever had.

But Jake didn’t squeeze your hand when Rooster spoke that time, instead he–

“Uggggh.”

It was almost comical the way everyone stopped talking and snapped their heads towards Jake.  When he made no sounds, you looked at Rooster and motioned for him to talk some more.

“Uh…I never told you this Jake, but when you saved Mav and me, I almost cried.  I went to visit my parents after we got back and I told th–”

“Ch…”

“You’re a good man Jake, and one of the best wingmen I could ask for…”

“Chick…”

“So we need you to wake up, okay brother?”

“Chicken.”

“Really?!”

Still, Jake didn’t wake up that day.  Everyone (but you and Lauren) left when Dr. Bast arrived.  They took Jake for tests and when they brought him back, told you two that he was showing amazing improvement.  Lauren switched out with you that night so you could go home for rest, but you didn’t really get any.  You were so worried he’d wake up and you wouldn’t be there.

When you arrived the next morning, you found Lauren and Dr. Bast in the hallway, both looked worried.

“--completely normal for him to not remember anything.  He’s suffering from Post-Traumatic Amnesia.  His head injury wasn’t too severe, so I don’t think it’ll last a significant amount of time.”

“He woke up?”  They both turned to look at you and Lauren rushed over.

“About 15 minutes ago.  I knew you’d already be on your way, and he needed to be looked over, so that’s why I didn’t call you.”

“No worries at all.”  You hugged her tight.  “How is he?”

“It appears that Lt. Seresin only remembers being in the Navy and being from Texas.”

“Can I see him?” you ask in a small voice.  Lauren nodded and Dr. Bast led you into the room.

“Lt. Seresin?”

“Yeah, doc?”  You felt your heart swell.  It had been so long since you’d heard that Texan drawl.

“Are you okay to receive another visitor?”

“‘Course doc.”  His accent was thicker than you had ever heard before.

“This is Miss Garcia, your–”

“--friend.”  You didn’t want to overwhelm Jake so soon. "We're friends."  

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to it.”

“Like I said, I’m a friend of yours”, you said and took a seat near the bed, but not super close.  Jake’s eyes looked you over closely, making you want to shrink in on yourself.  You couldn’t help looking him over just in the same way: his hair looked a little shaggier and he had a decent beard going on.

“How are we friends?”

“My brother is in your squad.  His name is Mickey, Mickey Garcia.  Callsign Fanboy.”  Jake looked away for a minute, as if he searched his mental files for that name.

“Does he like Star Trek?”

“Yes!  Yes. Loves it.  I like to call it his one flaw, because I love–”

“Star Wars.”  Jake was still staring off into space.  “Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Well, we have known each other for a year or two now…”

“What’s your name?”  He smiled when you told him.

“But Reuben–his callsign is Payback…he’s a member of your squad too, and Mickey’s pilot–he likes to call me Little Garcia sometimes.  I still don’t get why.  I’m not younger than Mickey and I’m certainly not littler than he is–”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Oh.”  You felt the heat creep up your neck and settle in your cheeks.  “Um, thank you.  You, uh, you don’t have to say that though.”

“I mean it.”

It went like that for a couple days, but you weren’t at the hospital as often as you were when he was unconscious.  You told yourself it was so he could recover without having so many people around him, just Lauren to help him along.  

But in truth, you stayed away because you were worried; worried that he wouldn’t remember you or everyone but you and the relationship you two shared.  You always thought it was like a dream, a man like Jake wanting to be with someone like you…even after all this time.  Lauren would message you several times a day, telling you that Jake was asking for Little Garcia.  You made excuses that you were busy at work since you’d been gone for a bit after what happened to Jake. You knew you had chosen the wrong time to distance yourself, but you couldn’t help thinking What if, when he remembered everything, he realized he didn’t want to be with you anymore? or worse, What if he blamed you for the accident?  The rational part of your brain was screaming at you that you were so very wrong…but you just couldn’t hear it.

Around four days after Jake woke up, you planned on finally going back to visit him after work, and went so far as shooting Lauren a quick text letting her know and set about working on shelf reading (aka organizing and straightening) the graphic novel section.

You were up on a step stool, when you heard what sounded like a group come in downstairs.  You thought about going down to see if Cas needed help, but decided against it; she’d call if she needed you.  Hoping the footsteps that signaled someone was coming upstairs were planning to avoid the section you were working in, you continued your organization.

You were zoned out as you worked so you were beyond surprised when you felt hands at your waist.  You let out a yelp as you were falling preparing for the pain of a fall that never came.  There was something about the arms around you, so as soon as you felt calm enough, your eyes snapped open.

“Jake?”  He helped you stand comfortably and scooted away from you.  “Oh my God, what are you doing here?  How are you feeling?”

“They let me out, and I’m feeling way better”, he replied.  “I’m not 100%, but I’m getting there.”

“Good!  I’m so glad.”

“Where have you been?  I’ve been waiting to see you Dewey.”

“I’ve been b- - Wait.  You called me Dewey.”

“I did.”

“That means- -”

“Yup.  I remember everything darlin’.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“I’m s- -”

“Do you not love me anymore?” he asked.  “Is it because of the accident that hurt Bob?  D-do you have feelings for Bob?”

“No! No, Bob is my best friend.  I love him the way I love Mickey, he’s another brother to me. You know that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I love you more than everything.  I was just so scared that you’d never remember me or you’d wake up and realize your accident was my fault.”

“Sweetheart, my accident was a simple malfunction.  It happens  sometimes.”

“I was so scared, so so scared, that I was going to lose you.”

“I won’t lie to you and say that will never happen, because nothing is ever certain in this job.”

“I know.”  Jake smiled at you and took your hands in his, leading you over to the balcony overlooking the library’s main floor.  You gasped upon seeing all of the Dagger Squad, Penny, Amelia, Lauren, Cas, and even Nurse Jo and Dr. Bast gathered together.  Every one of them was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers in your favorite color, smiling up at the two of you.

“Fanboy?”

“I know I’ve already given it, but yes, you have my blessing…and our parents’ too.”  You turned to look at Jake so fast, you swore you heard a cracking sound.

“Oh my God.  Oh my God. You’re- -”

“I am”, Jake answered with a smile and got down on one knee.  He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen.  “This belonged to Nana Seresin.  Our grandpa gave it to her back in the day when he proposed and said it was going to be handed down to me when I met the love of my life.  I went to visit Nana after that Halloween carnival.  You remember the one?”

“Mmhmm.”  You were completely incapable of words in that moment.

“I knew then, that one day, I was going to marry you.”  You were crying in earnest now.  “When I first woke up, and I couldn’t remember anything, I just knew there was something I was missing.  So I’m just going to keep it simple.  Miss Garcia, Dewey…Will you marry me?”

“You know how much I love quoting my favorite things…”

“Yeah…?”

“So, before I give you my answer, I’m going to use the words of a woman much wiser than me: ‘The only thing I ask is that you outlive me so I never have to live another day without you'.” **

“Is that a yes, baby?”

“Yes Jake, I’ll marry you.”  He slid the ring onto your finger and stood up, pulled you into his arms and kissed you.

The two of you pulled apart to everyone’s cheers.

“I love you so much Jake.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

Please don't forget to reblog and comment! Let me know what you think, but don't be a dick!

There will be more adventures for Jake & Dewey!!!

**Click here if you want to see what wise woman Dewey quoted. Spoilers for season 3 of Yellowstone.

[thegodcomplcx]

So I have mixed feelings on the character of mickey, but it really bothers me that in polls when Rory and Mickey are put up against each other, Rory always wins, and I don't understand why, because for all my problems with Mickey and the anti-black way that Mickey is written sometimes by RTD, he gets the character development that Rory never did. He becomes more than just a guy who makes sexist jokes and is rewarded by The Narrative for his loyalty. Mickey actually becomes his own character by the end rather than a prop in Rose's story. And yeah, like many tenmarthas, I think that Martha deserved better than just to be shoved into a relationship with him by the end, but like...he has an arc. He has agency. He has relationships with Jackie and Jack and his grandmother and an absolutely fascinating one with Nine. What does Rory have? A wife who is only with him because she thinks she should be? A possessive attitude in AGMGTW/LKH? They start out as such similar characters but Mickey at least goes somewhere and gets himself the hell out of dodge when he realizes that Rose doesn't value him. Rory doesn't and is rewarded by the narrative for his loyalty but like his wife clearly prefers the Doctor to him. It leads to some interesting TARDIS dynamics but he is not a better character than Mickey, not by a long shot. (Sorry, you've turned me into a Rory hater, good job)

i don’t like martha and mickey together but that’s only because they didn’t develop them at all and just expected to us to believe they had a good relationship. i don’t personally believe them ending up with each other was the correct choice for either of their arcs (don’t get me started) but at least we are able to have that conversation about mickey because he was an actual character and not the stand in that rory is.

mickey is treated horribly by the writers using the doctor as a mouthpiece, but rory is treated adversarially by the doctor in universe and overly glorified by the writers out of universe. idk how to explain it, just, you can tell the writers put too much stock into the idea of a “nice guy” deserving the girl. (is he nice, though? is he really?)

since doc/rose was the main romance they were going for in RTD era, they had to give mickey something to actually do after his own relationship with rose fizzled out, so he actually gets some depth. rory’s only purpose is to be in love with amy and he doesn’t get to do much else. (and he’s not even the most interesting guy who’s in love with amy lmao)(that’s the doctor)(me as well actually)

mickey is a character in his own right. rory is just “not the doctor”

[leegunn]

So, I had the idea a while ago to write a Gallavich fic set in the Being Human universe. I have tons of notes, but haven’t written much on it yet, and am currently focusing on other projects. I would like to pick it back up someday, but it will probably be a few months before I do.

I did write this scene and I kinda like it, so I thought I’d share it anyways. Enjoy this…. Meet-cute?

TW: Violence

Mickey hears the crowd before he sees them. Jeers and howls and punches and grunts of pain. He senses the victim’s werewolf status before he hears the pejoratives. “Mutt!” It’s the heartbeat, stronger than a normal human’s from this distance. “Dog!” It’s the smell. Foresty. Animal. “We’re gonna put you down, Old Yeller style. Got my silver bullets.”

He moves towards the noise, recognizing the voices of his brothers laying into some wolf who walked down the wrong street. He turns a corner and sees them gathered behind a dumpster.

The werewolf is curled on his side, holding his head while Mickey’s brothers kick at him. He hears the form mutter something but can’t make out the words. His brothers must not either, because they pause their assault. Colin leans down closer. “What was that, wolf?”

Mickey is still moving towards the gathered monsters when the wolf lifts his head to look up at his tormentors. His pale face is covered in blood, gushing from his nose and from an injury that seems to originate somewhere above his hairline. He looks young, Mickey realizes, maybe even still a teenager. He opens his mouth, almost baring his teeth which are bloodied and stained red between the cracks.

“Fuck you,” the wolf grits out. He spits out a mouthful of blood at Iggy’s feet.

Colin grabs a fistful of the redhead’s hair and hauls his head back sharply as Mickey finally joins the gathering. The wolf grunts in pain and glares up at Mickey with big green eyes.

“What are you?” The wolf pants.

Colin holds out his free hand, ignoring the question. “Gun,” he commands simply.

The wolf starts squirming then, breaking his staring match with Mickey to flail his arms in protest. Colin catches an elbow to his jaw and curses, letting go of the red hair. Iggy steps in then, grabbing under the wolf’s arms and dragging him to his feet. Colin’s fist connects with the wolf’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. If Iggy wasn’t still holding him up, he would have been on the ground again.

Mickey rolls his eyes and lets out a huff of a breath at the scene. “Alright, you two done yet? The kid’s had enough.”

Colin gives him an incredulous look. “He’s still breathing, ain’t he?”

“What the fuck do you want to kill him for?”

“We can’t let him walk, he was sniffing around our shit. He’ll go tell his little pack buddies.”

Mickey rolls his eyes again. “He doesn’t even know who we are, moron.”

“Well,” Colin flounders for a reason. “Terry don’t like wolves. We’ll look like pussies if we let a stray loose after it waltzed onto our turf.”

“Yeah, you’ll look real tough picking him off two weeks before the full moon. Might as well beat down a ten year old fuckin’ girl.”

“Well,” the redhead pipes up, “It’s not exactly like beating up a ten year old fuckin’ girl.”

“Man, you need to shut the fuck up,” Iggy says as he shoves the wolf to the ground. He turns his attention to Colin. “Let’s just go eat. I’m starving.”

“Fine,” Colin concedes. He gets low again, closer to the grounded wolf. “Won’t be so lenient if we find you here again.”

Mickey watches his brothers leave the alley as the redhead pulls himself into a sitting position. He wipes at the blood under his nose. “You look like shit,” Mickey informs him.

“I look like two assholes just kicked the shit out of me, probably,” concedes the wolf. He accepts Mickey’s offered hand and allows himself to be pulled up to his feet.

“Seriously, what the fuck are you doing in this neighborhood?”

He eyes Mickey suspiciously. “Why shouldn’t I be in this neighborhood?”

“You know how to answer a fuckin’ question, Scooby-Doo?” Mickey shoots back.

“You never answered mine,” the wolf accuses.

“Alright, I don’t have time for chit-chat,” Mickey grumbles. “Just get the fuck out of this neighborhood and don’t come back.” He starts to follow his brothers’ path out of the alley when he hears the voice behind him pipe up again.

“Wait, I don’t—“ Mickey pauses, something in his tone convincing him to hear the other monster out. Finally, the redhead asks, “how did you guys know I’m a werewolf?” He sounds lost. Mickey realizes he really is.

“How long ago were you scratched?” Mickey asks, turning towards the wolf.

“If I tell you, will you answer any one of my questions?” The redhead sounds annoyed again.


Mickey nods. “Where are you staying?”

“Jesus Christ!”

“You smell like dog. Now, where are you staying?” Mickey asks impatiently.

“I smell like what?” The wolf brings his wrist to his nose.

Mickey sighs. “You asked how we could tell. You smell like dog. Where are you staying?”

“I smell like—“

“This conversation is moving way too slow for me.”

“I’m homeless, okay?” The wolf finally admits. “I just got in town from Chicago. I was hoping to find an abandoned warehouse or something to squat in for a while, maybe, uh, change in. It looked like an abandoned shithole neighborhood but I get it, okay, message received, you guys have something going on out here. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Mickey huffs out an unamused breath. “I’m not worried about you snitching.”

“Then what’s with the beat down?”

“Okay, you’re homeless,” Mickey says aloud like he’s processing. He feels sympathy for the wolf, despite the rivalry he’s supposed to uphold. He remembers being a new vampire, abandoned by his maker, left alone to figure out the harsh realities of his new monster life. “Come stay with me a few days, alright?” He finally says, surprising even himself a little. The wolf eyes him, hopeful but cautious.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to hang around this neighborhood?” He asks as the other man leads him out of the alley.

“I don’t live in this neighborhood,” Mickey answers.

[carmenized-onions]

Just Dropped | Missing Invoice

Here we go sweets

HERE WE GO

I was so stunned with Carmy's "Respect him" Cause babe wtf we were vibing earlier????? But yea- the last chapter he can ruin it for himself go get it Carmy-

"You were expecting comradery. The guy is a dick, why won’t Carmen admit that? Why’s he suddenly got stock in his captor?"

Right???? COMRADRY I WAS PISSED

“N’ what the fuck are you?”

I wanted to punch CARMEN

"Oh. Stray bullet, for you. You wince— Not that you weren’t already, but that was definitely a personal hit. Richie’s still harboring resentment over that for Carmen, which means he still holds it somewhere for you, too. And at least Carmen came back after, to take care of The Beef. Where the fuck were you for the better half of a year? Vanished. You completely vanished, on him."

That hurt THANKS RICHIE (I know you didn't mean it towards me honey)

"You catch it from Carmen, too. Does Carmen see you as a leech? A parasite, tethering to his family? To his work? Is that why he’s mad, right now? You’ve inserted yourself without asking— You’re so pushy— No, no, he likes that your pushy, you’re good. He doesn’t think that about you, he doesn’t actually think Richie is a leech either, he’s just saying shit to start shit. It’s working. He’s really stirring up shit."

I love how Tony tries rationalizing it like no no he doesn't think it he's just starting shit

I love how Richie says I love you so unabashedly like yes he loves this guy he considers family and it's awfully upsetting that he is pretending he isn't family

"You're fucking nothing"

GOD THAT CARMEN

Like that obviously hurts cause Uncle Lee to Mikey and it's so rage worthy

And I hate that too personally been told I'm useless or that I essentially amount to nothing which even when true is exceedingly hurtful

But with Carmy, Mikey and Richie's personal history it's practically a time bomb

How dare he say that "fix him?" FIX HIM? BABE NO BODY CAN FIX ANY OF YOU AND TONY AINT TRYING

I love the way you write so much so that Carmy is a real person and I have beef with him

I actually did cry this chapter

Now that I am on a re read because I didn't give you my thoughts earlier so

junkie loser

asshole CARMEN ANTHONY BERZATTO

"“Don’t tell me I’m fucking confused. I’m not fucking confused— I— This is my fucking kitchen, alright?” Entirely nonsensical. Too many thoughts are stirring in his head."

MAYBE SHUT UP AND LISETN?????????????

“That’s me— That’s who the fuck I am. And I’m good like that, so—So if he’s a fuckin’ creep so am I. N’ I don’t need you comin’ in my fuckin’ kitchen, comin’ in my fuckin’ life, actin’ like you know better than me!”

WELL S3 PREDICTION HAHAHAHAHAHAH

(I haven't finished it yet but I read stuff in comments lol)

Failed Mickey hurt

I remember putting down my phone and taking in a deep breath

I was in public transport and did not want to cry-

Damn right Carmy

TONY IS NOT MICKEY

I love that his regret is so well written you know

I love the way you write

Cause like even I say stuff suddenly that I do not mean

But never this mean

"You get to be the first person he’s ever made cry, in his kitchen. When his brain comes back to his body, and he repeats back to himself the exchange that just happened. Yeah, he’d cry, too."

I did cry so thank you CARMEN I'M SO MAD

I absolutely love how Sydney and Richie rush behiind Tony

It's so fuckiign sweet

"“No.” You shoot Carmen down quickly. “Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.”"

GO TONY

The shock that Mickey gave her money and not vice-versa so well done almost surpassing the next chapters (sponser spoiler alert)

“I—” How can you word this in a way that isn’t just as cruel? “I didn’t think we were friends.”

NO BUT SO ME

Like honestly I really don't think people consider me a friend and I'm always so surprised because I just don't think that people think I'm their friend?

“I… I feel like… I’m just like… So insecure, about my place in relationships, that like— Like I’m not worth people’s time. Like we were only friends because we were friends with Mikey and we were handling him and I was like— Like I was helpful. So, like, when he died, it was like… We— There was no reason, for you to be friends with me, anymore. No us.”

EXACTLY THIS

YOU GET IT

I love the taylor swift conversation so much man

Me too

Like I don't hate her but concert would be a bit much haha

But for Richie and Eva I'm here hundred percent

Richie and Syd speak in unison, a rarity, for them to be on the same page. “No the fuck it’s not.”

My favourite bit from it all lol

“Fucks Inky mean anyways? Stupid ass nickname—” “Oh, like Chip is so original—” “Actually, a dead guy coined it, so betchu feel real dumb now—” “I’m not capable of feeling dumb—” You interrupt, “Girls, girls, you’re both beautiful.”

You explain to Rich, “I called Syd ‘Squid’ in high-school— Literally just ‘cause it sounds funny, and uh, she felt jealous that she didn’t have one for me—”

THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME I WAS SO CURIOUS

“I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother, but at this point, I’m taking that as a read.”

omg no way

ARE YOU HAPPY? HERE YOU GO I VENTED

ALSO LIKE I TOTALLY LOVED YOU DM'ING ME BTW

felt so seen and loved

thank you

muah

Got an hour of answering asks until I return to banging my head against the wall trying to write the last two scenes of chapter 14 (it’s a fucking nightmare) (we’re at 8k right now) (we’re going to end up over 10k BUT NOT BY MUCH PLEASE GOD PLEASE) Anyways. LETS GO LET’S GET INTO YOUR THOUGHTS FROM JUST DROPPED CHAPTER 11!!!

Carmen’s vibe switch really was so fun to write for me, like he SUCKED the energy right out of the room— In what I feel was 100% the way he would do that. He gives such a fuck about titles, it’s ANNOYING!!!

Richie has been such a joy to dig into for the last few chapters— Two Steps Back specifically was so fun, but with Just Dropped it was fun because I do think somewhere Richie is mad at Chip— Like how could he not be, y’know? He thought he just lost one friend and then he lost TWO!!!?? He gets it, but I do think like Chip said, somewhere deep, it’s still kinda there.

Carmen however, was 100% being a shitstarter in this fight that was all a FUCK load of projecting. I mean c’mon, that nothing talk— This mffff…. No one’s useless!!! He’s just bullshit!! Writing fights is really one of my favourite types of dialogue to write, it kinda reminds me of this one fuckin’ quote somewhere about how the way you react to fearing for your life shows a lot about you. I think the way you fight shows SO much about a character. We could dig in for literally hours about each line from the freezer fight, I love that shit man. THANK YOU AND SORRY FOR MAKING YOU CRY ABOUT IT.

“That’s me— That’s who the fuck I am. And I’m good like that, so—So if he’s a fuckin’ creep so am I. N’ I don’t need you comin’ in my fuckin’ kitchen, comin’ in my fuckin’ life, actin’ like you know better than me!” WELL S3 PREDICTION HAHAHAHAHAHAH

Yeah, I did seem to have called that fuckin shot— I was not surprised to see David. I am an oracle,,, Or rather, the writers just set up a very clear through line— well, this one through line, at least— I’m being catty about s3 I need to relax.

NOT PUBLIC TRANSPORT— Man this chapter and two steps back were the chapters I was like, everyone needs to lock in to read these ones— Maybe I should put a lock in warning up top LMAO.

Rereading Carm’s regret after Two Steps Back is so interesting, in retrospect— Thank you for enjoying it— Regret is hand in hand with why fights are my favourite thing to write. I LOVE WHEN MOTHERFUCKERS FEEL GUILT YEEAGGHHHH YEAAH!!!!!!! Don’t know why it just does it for me but it DOES.

Red-Herring everyone with the joint bank account did put a smile on my face,,, hehehehe

Syd/Rich/Tony, I’ve said it ad nauseam but they’re really my fuckin, fuckin what’s the bridgerton thing? Rose of the season? Idk I capped out of shows I can give my brain to. The scene in the parking lot with Richie was one I’d really been waiting for, and I’m very happy it connected with all the other people pleasing readers in the way that it did. I am also not a big TSwift fan, but for Richie, ,,, I will fold. 

Omg YES way dude, but you’ve read Two Steps Back now so you know what that Phantom was yapping about. AND GOOD I’M GLAD— I’m very bad at DMing people both in life and on Tumblr so when I do it know it’s all my willpower and strength and love in one message <3

P.S I did get your replies from your notes on the last chapter!!! They were also lovely to read thank youuu love you on to the NEXT FUCK I HAVE HALF AN HOUR, alright we’re just gonna go for however long it takes.

[sam-loves-seb]

fic writer ask game

i am very late on this but i was tagged by @mmmichyyy and @iansw0rld !

🖤 rules: answer the questions then tag five fic writers ✍️

1. how did you get into writing fanfiction?

i was super into marvel movies in my teens and i read way too much clintasha and stevebucky fic on tumblr/ao3 until one day i finally cracked and decided to try writing my own. i wrote fic for a few years when i was a teenager, then went to college and fell out of fandom life because real life was super hectic and getting a degree in mechanical engineering is hard, and then when i was maybe 22? 23? i started writing fic again because i realized how much i missed fandom and community and writing in general. i orphaned all my old fic on ao3 when i came back, but i kinda wished i had at least written the titles down somewhere because i’d love to go back and see how much my writing style has grown since then. 

2. how many fandoms have you written in?

10, according to ao3. add in a couple more from my youth, and sprinkle in a handful of unfinished things in my docs from fandoms i had a passing interest in and never actually published anything for, and the real answer is probably more like 15.

3. how many years have you been writing fanfiction?

a decade, give or take

4. do you read or write more fanfiction?

honestly depends on the day. i get in moods where i just want to write and i don’t want to read anything, and then it flips eventually and all i want to do is consume fics

5. what is one way you've improved as a writer?

i think my dialogue has improved so much since i started. it’s definitely one of my strengths right now, but it wasn’t always. 

6. what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

honestly i don’t know, my writing is very mundane. royal hierarchies maybe? and that’s not even weird. i just know i had to read a lot of shit about that for a wip i’ve since semi-abandoned.

7. what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

any comment at all is my favorite comment, but if i have to get specific: when people copy/paste their favorite lines into a comment and tell me they liked them, yeah that shit hits 

8. what's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

again, i write very boring stuff. i think the most fringe thing i write is crossovers to be totally honest. i love a well done crossover fic between multiple fandoms. i’m still very proud of my tww/newsroom crossover, and my tww/stranger things crossover is near and dear to my heart. right now i’ve been brainstorming a shameless/stranger things/911 crossover with @karenandthababes for the last like, six months. will i ever write it? who knows.

9. what is the hardest type of story for you to write?

smut.

10. what is the easiest type?

fluff or domestic fluff. give me the softness. give me them happy and enjoying life. i can crank out 5k of that in no time.

11. where do you do your writing? what platform? when?

in bed on my laptop, Word, and mostly at night, but sometimes during my lunch breaks

12. what is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

the rock star mickey au that lives in my brain rent free is probably top of my list, followed by the high school au that also lives in my brain rent free. both are ambitious projects, and i’ve been talking about them for months without actually writing anything down yet.

13. what made you choose your username?

i will refer you back to question one where i said i was very into marvel movies and stevebucky in my teens. i adore sebastian stan, always have always will, hence sam-loves-seb. yes i made this handle at 15, no i will not change it.

tagging: @jessbakescakes @mybrainismelted @gallawitchxx @suchagallabitch @thefinestmuffinswrites and anyone else who wants to play !

[dynamic-power]

Evie @energievie tagged me in an end of year writer interview! This is such a cool idea.

-----

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 

15! I plan to increase that by a lot next year!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Just shy of 62k.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Since Prom - Steddie, E

An Offer - Kanej, T

back to the past - Steddie, T WIP

Coach H - Steddie, T

Kinktober Drabbles - various, E WIP (it's finished on tumbr. I just need to move the last few to AO3 lmao)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Ngl, I struggle with this. I want to. I see and cherish every single one! But I forget to reply, or I don't know what to say, or I don't check for comments for a month and when I finally see them, I feel like it's too late. 😅

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

That would be A Coat Or A Blanket. Angst is not my forte. I want happy endings for everyone.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Probably Since Prom? Or Arrivals. Just because there's an actual plot and a real ending lol.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. But maybe in the future? 🤷

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes lol. It was on a kinktober fic. Ao3 rule number 1: don't like, don't read. Apparently they didn't get the memo. 🤣

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Most of my fics are kinktober! So kinky, gay sex. 😏 That'll change next year. I mean that I plan to write a lot of non-kinktober stuff, not that I won't be writing kikny, gay sex.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so 👀

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I wouldn't be opposed

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but I wouldn't be opposed. Seriously, if you ever want to collab, lmk! 😄

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Currently, it's Gallavich. But my favorite of all time is Drarry.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

It's one I haven't even started posting yet. It's a Gallavich soul mate AU where the pair have special gifts centered around eye contact. Mickey can see soul mates and Ian severs soul mate connections. I'm absolutely in love with it but I'm also kinda struggling to get through it. 😭😭😭

15. What are your writing strengths?

Word limits. I love the challenge of trying to portray certain emotions or situations in a limited amount of time, and I feel like I'm really good at it. I don't have to get caught up in details, I can just make my readers feel in just a few sentences.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing lol. I don't have patience, I always end up rushing my ending.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

2 situations. If the POV character doesn't speak the language, I try to limit it to things that can be easily assumed without need for translation. Expletives, nicknames, or recognizable phrases. Unless, of course, the POV character is meant to not understand what is being said. And 2, if the POV character speaks the language, I'll usually have them translate in their thoughts. I just want the reader to be on the same level of understanding as the POV character.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. That was way back in the day. I posted my first fic in 2010. 🤣 On my current account, it was Six of Crows.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Hooo boy. Doctor Who comes to mind. I'm obsessed with the idea of Fourteen and Jack Harkness meeting again. I've always wanted to do something for Criminal Minds. I'll probably dip my toe into Supernatural, too. I've done drabbles for Mungrove, Harringrove, and Harringroveson, but i'd also like to do full fics for them. Idk, I've always got too many ideas.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Either Since Prom or Coming Soon To Home Video. I can't pick.

If you write fanfiction, you should totally do this! Consider this me, tagging you.

Our just giving you cake. 🍰