#dumbass dre

[rebelwithoutabroom]

.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)

Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.

He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).

Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.

After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve. 

Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.

“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.

“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”

“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.

Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before. 

Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.

“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.

“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”

Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”

“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”

“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”

“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”

“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.

And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.

“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.

“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”

Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.

He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–

“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.

“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”

‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..

“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach. 

Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.

“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.

His very well sculpted shoulders.

And arms.

And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..

Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”

“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”

Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.

He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.

When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.

The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.

Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.

“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.

Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.

“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.

Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”

Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.

“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”

“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.

Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”

“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”

Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”

“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.

They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.

He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.

He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.

“Eddie–”

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.

He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.

“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.

“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”

“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.

Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”

“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”

“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.

Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.

He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.

“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back. 

Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.

“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.

“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”

Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”

Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.

He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.

“I think that sounds amend—-”

Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.

“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”

Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”

“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”

“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”

“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.

Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.

“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.

He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”

“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”

“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Very.”

“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”

“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”

“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.

“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”

“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”

Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”

He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.

“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”

part 2/2 here | and on AO3!

definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes

[banj0possum]

DRE DRE OMG DRE!:O

I JUST HAB THE GREATEST IDEA OF ALL TIME DRE!

So, so I was thinking at like 1:33 am cuz ye, and I thought,

WHAT IF THE READER, HAD LIKE, A DISABILITY , AND IT CAUSED THEM TO LIKE NOT BE ABLE TO MOVE AROUND MUCH, AND AND THEY FEEL USELESS, SO THEYRE LOVER COMES IN, AND IS LIKE” u know ily right?” OUT OF NO WHERE, AND IT MAKES THEIR DAY???

I mean you dnt have 2, but it would still be like so cool:3

*me running at Usain Bolt speed in order to get away from sleep cuz insomnia helps brain go brr*

But have to sleep so go night night>:(

Yanderes x Disabled!Reader w/ a Mobility Disability

My OCs x Disabled!GN Reader

yall have no idea how long I've wanted to write this *sobbing*

CW: Adrian is stupid and ignorant a little, mentioned kidnapping themes, stalking, theyre a little bit too caring for you..

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Adrian doesn't use your disability to make fun of you, he's an asshole not a monster. But he is painfully ignorant of things when it comes to people with disabilities. Prepare to be asked a lot of shallow and sort of weird questions, not because he's judging you, but because he wants to learn more about you and maybe learn how to take care of you once you two get married and live together. He'd ask in random times "So why do you use a wheelchair?" "Can you piss correctly?" and a plethora of other things. If you use a wheelchair, he'd insist, no, demand that he'd push for you, he doesn't give a real reason for it other than "Your arms will get tired." If you're an amputee, he'd secretly save and steal money in order to buy you prosthetics if you ever showed your desire for one to him. He honestly doesn't care if you feel useless, you're his and he loves you and no matter what you think, he will always be there for you. "Are you fucking kidding me? You went to the library all by yourself yesterday! You played with those kids in the playground, and you carried that group presentation in math class! You're not useless, you dumbass, you're amazing!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Brandon, despite how ditsy he is, researches a lot about your disability, how to take care of a person with your disability and stuff that could improve your mobility. It's his duty as your boyfriend to give you the best care possible! As much as he loves to take care of you, he knows for sure you're able to do things yourself, he helps you with physical therapy if you ever need it. Being the star player of the lead team has its financial benefits too, so if there's something you found online that could help with your mobility, he's definitely buying it for you immediately!! There are times when you feel insecure about your disability but he's always there to give you lots and lots of reassurance and love! But to be honest, his way of cheering you up sounds more like a pep talk more than comfort, but it's his way of cheering you up :) "Who cares if you're not like other people? You're awesome and never forget that, with or without a disability!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Valeth, I shit you not, is taking away your wheelchair, your crutches, your prosthetic limbs, anything you need to move around on your own. He doesn't want you being able to escape his house and tell the authorities about him. Besides, why need those when you have him to carry you around and spoil you rotten with gifts and affection? If you let, him, he'll kiss the parts of your body that are affected by your disability, your legs, your arms, your amputated limbs, he wants to remind you how much he loves you despite your immobility. He'll whisper how much he loves you every night or when you feel sad. "You're perfect my little duckling, so so beautiful..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The Horde is keeping you in your bunker 24/7 unless you tell them you want to get out, but even then, they're right by your side the entire time. Bo is in charge with making sure you're never in pain or discomfort, physically and emotionally. "You're so beautiful darlin'..I wouldn't change a thing about your pretty little self~.." Screw rummages around the mall to find anything to help you move around like items from the medical areas. "I found this..uhm..do you like it?" Soda and Ribs don't really understand but they love you either way, regardless of your body. Ribs might steal your prosthetics or crutches though; you have to pry them out of his mouth like a dog that doesn't want to give up a stick.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Wolfie thinks you're hurt and whines whenever he sees you struggling of sad, he licks the places of your body that are 'hurting'. Even when you reassure him that you're ok, he won't let go, he needs to make sure his little mate is ok! Forget wheelchairs, or crutches or prosthetics, he'll let you ride on his back, anywhere you want! Just give him lots and lots of pets and scratchies, good boy deserves it!

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Dorik is your loyal servant and will help you whenever you need anything. Oh, your wheelchair is folded up and you need help setting it up? Nonsense! He can carry you anywhere you want! Prosthetic limb nowhere to be found? Just stay in bed, he'll take care of it! Found out he's been hiding all your stuff so you depend on him and only him?...nuh uh.. and if you ever feel down, he'll be right there cuddling you and whispering sweet kinda creepy things to you. "You're my little angel, master~ A fragile mortal like you should be cared for with a gentleness of a thousand silks~!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Kalva forges high and low for anything that can help you. while he does enjoy keeping you nice and safe in the nest, you need some sunlight! He gives you branches, sticks, rope, anything you need to help you move around even just a little bit. With his nest building abilities, he would make you a prosthetic limb or cane for you. If you're a wheelchair user, he can just lift you up and prop you outside with him while he preens you. He might not know what's wrong but he tries his best to make you feel better. "My mate is so lovely, my lovely lovely mate! So pretty and cute!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Jasper can't help but be much more protective of you. He knows you can do stuff on your own, but he thinks as your best friend and future lover he needs to take care of you. He'd gladly be your caretaker if you ever need one, but he beats himself up for not accepting that you know how to handle yourself. Please let him draw and paint on your prosthetics or wheelchair! If you don't want anyone to touch your stuff, that's ok with him, but that won't stop him from making little artworks for you, like tiny paper stars with cute doodles drawn over it. If ever you feel sad, he has a nice cozy room, a weighted blanket, hot chocolate and his cat to comfort you. He's not the type to give pep talks, but he's a good cuddler.. "It's ok to feel sad, baby~..let's just lie down together alright?"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Silas, Viktor and Garrick pester you every day to just let them turn you. You could be in unbearable pain, and you still refuse to be a vampire??? You could just have a minor limp or amputated leg and they're blowing your disability out of proportion, comparing you to a fragile porcelain doll. Imagine how much better you'll feel when you can no longer feel pain! Or when you have the ability to walk properly! It bugs you, it even makes you feel worse. If they go too far, they quiet down and sulk like sad puppies, whining and begging you to forgive them. They're sorry they took it too far..they just wanted you to be happier and healthier... "We're sorry darling, we just want you safe is all.." "Indeed my dove~ but we love you either way~!" "So cute and so fragile~! I don't know what's up with those two, but I wouldn't change a thing baby~!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Baron is always there for you, you dont even need your wheelchair or crutches anymore with how much he takes care of your needs. He says it's all part of his job but you don't really think making adorable little snacks for you is part of it.. looking at the little orange slices shaped like snails and cookies decorated to look like cats on your tray, you wonder if his doting is really his duty or if he just really wanted to take care of you.. Apart from that, he often watches as you look in the mirror and just frown. He gets up and checks how you're feeling as if a switch activated in his brain when he saw your sweet sad eyes. He can't bear seeing you so insecure when you're the most amazing person he's ever met.. "Boss, I don't care what you or others think, you are wonderful and worth regardless of your disability. In fact, it makes you even more admirable.."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Caspian can relate to immobility. Out of water, he's more or less paralyzed from the waist down because of the weight of his tail, so you two hang out and joke about it together. He helps you cope by giving you someone to see yourself in. He daydreams about one day using some kind of magic to give you a fish tail so you can live in the ocean together like a happy couple. Sometimes he brings you to the shore of the cave you live in so you can soak your feet in the water while he sings for you. "My beautiful treasure~ your body does not define you. I see your soul, your heart, and it is beautiful~.."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Hallow just sees it as an excuse to keep you locked up. He baby-proofs everything so you don't accidentally bump into something and get hurt. Yes, he takes away your wheelchair or prosthetics when you disobey him. He's a menace but he makes up for it by caring so much for you, you don't even have to lift a finger. If you're good, he gives your stuff back, all of them decorated with stickers and doodles all over it, mostly hearts and flowers. If ever you feel insecure, he coils around you in a warm hug and kisses you all over, you're not getting out until he hears a giggle come out of you. "My doll~ my darling~ my love~ my pretty little toy~ so cute~ so small~ your body is perfect~ just the way it is~!"

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ashvan is on high alert 24/7, what if you get hurt? Or someone knocks you over and you can't get up? What if you can't move in a dangerous situation??? Stairs?!?!? He's absolutely panicking over you, but you being a cleric, you can simply use magic to get around. He knows full well that you can look after yourself but he can't help but linger around wherever you are to make sure you're ok, especially in fights. He's never far from you, acting like your defense as you heal the other members of the clan. He may or may not watch you sleep. Just being there for you! On days when you're not so confident in your abilities, he comes up to you with flowers he picked so he could hopefully make you smile again. "H-hi there! u-uhm..I-I picked these for you! heheh..uhm..g-good job during that battle! You were uhm..amazing..~"

[ijiwaruuma]

Is there a fanfiction of your Dunmer oc that I can read? Or is it just the comic entries that are spaced apart on your page?

Cryinggggggg and kicking my legs in the air

It's such a flattering question, honestly :"" I am very happy that my art has caught your attention in this way!!!

Now I'll try to pull myself together and give you the proper answer:

... So, I'm very insecure with writing for some reason (never know where to finish) and because of that the entire story of this OC is just some ideas in my head I usually share in DMs with anyone who's interested. If you want, I'll gladly tell everything you wish to know in this way. Or I'll just start posting about her on this blog if I stop being so socially scared... Or do some big epic illustrations for these texts (both of which is kind of unlikely 😭)

But for now, have some very rough sketches and facts for the mood:

She had an Argonian bestie when she was a kid at Chorrol but sadly that girl's dad was VERY traumatised by decades spent as a House Dres slave. And Colo-Nordic society she was surrounded with wasn't much kinder to her race.

Fortunately, one day she stumbled upon another Dunmer who didn't deserve all that hatred. He was a friend of that amazing Emperor who had saved her city from the invaders when she was ten years old, so he couldn't be bad like those violent Dunmer who ruined their race's reputation!

(also that dumbass made herself an ordinator scarf for the first date thinking it will make Dram nostalgic. It made him remember how those ordinators killed and almost tortured him 😭 (yeah, exactly in that order))

Some more random sketches

And bonus one with current Morag Tong grandmaster doing Dram's hair before sending him to execute his last(?) writ

[fancylala4]

Chris Brown stans are the dumbest bitches in the world🤡.

The fuck does she mean by this? Has she been living under a rock? People have been talking about those trash ass abusers! No one likes Ike turner because he did to Tina. People were talking about Elvis being a creepy abuser when his own biopic was released, and we got a movie about how predatory his marriage was. Same with Dr. Dre’s bitch ass.

“No one gets the same treatment or energy that Chris Brown gets” is a stupid statement. This idiot doesn’t care about abuse victims or anything. She’s just mad because her trash ass fav is finally getting called out. Plus, If anything, he gets the same amount of treatment as other abusers get like r. Kelly and diddy. Those three all are being defended by dumbass bitches like the one above.

Edit: the funny thing about this idiot whining about how this only to Chris brown and not other singers is that that the doc did mention Tina and Ike.

[i-want-purity-bxtch]

You wanna know what's really funny about the internet revolving around Amy Winehouse and the literal discourse she has even in death??

The fact that most of the people saying Amy was a "bad influence" as if she ever said she was one?? It's almost as if Amy only wanted to make music so people didn't feel alone and actually wanted a normal life where she got married, had kids, and lived away from the public eye. It's almost as if, I don't know, we shouldn't idolize celebrities because they are literally just people with a microphone and hold no other presence in our or our children's lives! How amazing is that!

"Well Amy was selfish bc she was a drug addict and an alcoholic and wrote songs like Rehab" oh so do you go to therapy and journal? Do you write down your emotions, or express to your friends how you are feeling? Do you make art to express yourself, or use things such as cars, houses, career paths, etc, to express yourself?? You guys say this shit but many artists including Taylor Swift, P!NK, Demi Lovato, Beyonce, Kanye, Dr. Dre, Kendrick, SZA, Eminem, etc. all write the same things and to the same extent Amy did, but you guys don't wanna hear that, do you? It's almost like music is an art form MEANT to express yourself! And not just some beats! :)

"Oh well she was famous so she should have known better" no she shouldn't?? She didn't want fame, or even adjusted to a "celebrity" lifestyle?? In fact, if Amy was alive in this day and age I bet you she would have rather been a SoundCloud artist where her music could be enjoyed but she didn't have to worry about firms tryna get her to sign and where she could speak for herself!

Yes, Amy had problems, but we all do. Yall a bunch of dumbasses who don't think I swear to god.

[konahrics]

I hate how much potential the Dawnguard DLC had and how shallow it ended up being.

TES doesn't usually deal in black & white, good vs evil. Imperials aren't better than Stormcloaks, the Companions aren't inherently good or bad, etc. But then the Volkihar vs Dawnguard conflict happens and it's just... would you like to rid the world of evil vampires?

Normally that's the part where you have to weigh the pros and cons of whichever side you'll take, but are there any pros to the vampires' side? You have to essentially sell your soul to Molag Bal to get a power that's kind of worth it sometimes, to live in a castle that houses actual human cattle and no one likeable except for Serana, who'd still be there if you'd taken the Dawnguard side anyway.

Besides Harkon's (stupid and self-destructive) plan, what objectives do the Volkihar have? Once the main story is over, the game just throws fetch quests at you. They don't actually do anything beyond existing.

And the fact that you fought for these vampires to exist is particularly frustrating because they're shallow and unlikeable. At least some of the Dawnguard members have a backstory: the young man you meet at the entrance to Daybreak Canyon who's scared of Isran, the Orc who wants to avenge his wives, the guy who might speak to Arkay, etc. The vampires get Nothing (except for Serana... who sides with the Dawnguard if you do). There's a former member of House Dres. Vingalmo and Orthjolf bicker. Valerica is admittedly an interesting character, but that's kind of it. Most of the vampires in the castle have almost nothing to say, unlike some of the Dawnguard who you actually go recruit yourself and have their own personality. Which is a shame because i wish that once you've sided with the vamps, you'd actually get incentive to stay. There are many reasons why someone might want to be a vampire (did they get taken in by the Volkihar in an uncharacteristic act of good will, and are now unshakeably loyal? Are they a disgraced noble looking for revenge? Do they think vampires should work with mortals rather than against them? There's potential dammit! Have some diversity!) but the only reason all of the Volkihar vampires have is to sit in the castle, drink blood all night and proclaim their loyalty to whoever's the leader.

Speaking of leaders! Isran is an interesting character who fights for a good cause but sometimes goes to extremes and pushes his own allies away; Harkon is a dumbass who thinks blotting out the Sun would be a good thing and who will 100% backstab you the moment he doesn't need you anymore or you become a threat to him. Actually, you can't trust anyone on the vampire side. Finishing the DLC as the leader of the Volkihar sounds both exhausting and unrewarding, from an in-character POV. Also, why isn't Serana the new leader after she helps you kill her father??

There's so many things that have me believe that DLC is meant to be played on the Dawnguard side, which kinda sucks. It's nice that they offer a way for the player to be evil, but the evil plotline is boring, and good vs evil isn't what TES is good at anyway.

TES could have done what it usually does, and does well, which is a nuanced conflict (while keeping the Volkihar somewhat monstruous, because they are.) A Dawnguard who's trying to destroy vampires but whose methods are extreme (Isran literally has a torture room in the game and makes Serana wait for you there) vs the Volkihar who are torn between obeying Harkon like they have for millenia even though his plan is self-destructive, or overthrowing him and facing the Dawnguard menace weakened. If you side with the Dawnguard, congrats! The Volkihar are no more, but without them around cull their numbers, vampires are popping up left and right. Destroy them and cure their victims before they turn. If you side with the Volkihar, once you've destroyed the Dawnguard, you have to fix the problems Harkon allowed to fester while he was obsessed with the prophecy. Stop other clans from encroaching on Skyrim and refill your depleted ranks, and choose how thralls should be treated.

At this point i'm just rambling but i'm so smad about that DLC. I love vampires but they're so 2-dimensional compared to everything else in the game. I'd happily play through the Soul Cairn every time if the rest of the story was engaging. Ok not happily but i wouldn't complain as much.

[aboutzatanna]

Still annoyed by how the latter half of JLD portrayed Zee as an incompetent leader who made some  outright dumbass decisions while in charge.   

As a palate cleanser, here are some tidbits from Justice League of America Vol 1  Annual #1 written by Paul Levitz and Len Wein and pencilled by Rick Hoberg and her decisions weren’t disastrous.

This was from the period where Zee was elected chairwoman of the League: 

Oh hey look, it’s Commissioner Gordon on the Watchtower, you don’t see that every day. What could he be there for?   

(This is from the period where Batman left the League to form the Outsiders but given that he formed the Outsiders to do *more* crime fighting, the fact that Gordon had to go to the League because he couldn’t get in touch with Batman is doubly ironic.)  

Also, pretty cool how Gordon is known and respected even by the JLA.   

So Zee splits the team into groups and they go investigate the missing artists. Not everyone is too keen on her calling the shots though:  

Why Ollie? Why? Sadly, Ollie doesn’t do much in this annual besides whining and being a jerk.  

But turns out she was right and it turns out Destiny is pulling out nightmares from artists brain and materializing them in to the real world.   

Diana on the other hand, is more supportive Zee’s decisions:  

Oh hey look! It’s John Stewart!   

John teaming up with the League during the Satellite era was rare but always welcome. As a DCAU fan, he will always by *my* Green Lantern.      

After confirming Destiny’s involvement, Zatanna, Red Tornado and Elongated Man chase him into the Dreaming (a much less exciting place before Neil Gaiman joined DC):    

One of the main sub plots of the annual is Zee’s sometimes mentor/detective Ralph having a crisis of confidence:    

Zatanna summons the rest of the League and they head to confront Destiny at his HQ:  

Also shout out to penciller Rick Hoberg here; the League is flying or running towards their target but he gives each member a distinct pose that reflects their personality. Zatanna and the Hawks are soaring through the air while John and Red Tornado are darting through the air laser focused on their target while Firestorm’s pose falls somewhere in the middle.  (Also it’s funny how the Atom is on Firestorm’s shoulder seemingly rooting for him to go faster.)  Even the running poses are different from each other; Flash’s pose looks like a homage to his debut comic cover, Diana is more casual while Aquaman looks more determined whilst Ollie looks like he is oogling Dinah who seems to be doing her best to ignore him.   

The League takes the fight to Dr Destiny’s HQ but it doesn’t go as planned:  

He defeats the League in a way that makes me think the League all probably collectively agreed to never speak of again:  

 “So how did Destiny take down all of you again?”

“Yep, giant monster.” 

“Giant monster.”

“He had big fangs.”

“Don’t forget the horns.”

“And the spikes.”

“Practically untouchable.” 

“It was too powerful for us to even comprehend!”

(I’m also going to head canon this as Destiny having more power in the Dreaming.)

Unbeknownst to him however, Ralph has managed to free the original Jack Kirby Sandman, Garret Sanford.  Side note: He is the guy who passed the mantle to Hector Hall who was the Sandman who was being manipulated by Brute and Glob before being “freed” by Neil Gaiman’s Sandman.    

Destiny’s characterization here; his hatred for the League, unable to dream which in turn turned him into a withering husk because of it and usurping the power of Sandman has echoes of his story arc in Gaiman’s Sandman. The latter was more impactful but I wonder if he drew inspiration from this annual?   

Sandman calls in the cavalry in the form of Superman

and takes on Dr Destiny again and in probably one of the funniest moment of this annual:   

So how did they escape?  

Ralph: The MVP.   

Later, the League offers membership to Sandman who turns it down.  Also, turns out Superman’s dreams are special:   

So there you have it; Zee was a competent chairman, Ralph got his confidence back by being the MVP, John Stewart finally got some lime light  and Superman dreams about ~peace~.    

Honestly, wouldn’t mind a variation of this story but with the League meeting Morpheus.    

[shyannesmith466]

Why incels deserve less and the whores who support men like this should be treated like shit like roma army pearl davis Lauren Chen layah heilpern and some used up nobody cares of Victoria's secret model all incels deserve less and to be treated like s*** especially these incels two are in jail right suffering lmao Andrew Tate and Tristan Tate the others snecko Myron gainns Chris everyone of the men on fresh and fit Andrew Tate fans aka cult members and simps for Andrew Tate and Andrew Tate cousin and Friends and I'm putting Dubai in here too and ksi dumb cunt whore of a mom and the rational male of course backs up and supports everything Andrew Tate says and torashaa the dumb big nosed whore

Here is roma army aka chloe sunderland or sunderson aka dumb white white trash whore this woman don't need to be treated no better than a toilet seat and do what she's better at sucking off random guy's dicks that don't give a s*** about her so that's the men she supports she always dres like whore and always wants attention from men no matter how awful they are I think sometimes she wants attention from women as well she is a whore plan and simple that dose care about women having freedom happiness and fun she is nothing but used up cum rag

Here is Pearl Davis he looks like skeletor and it's also against women having freedom and for the incels she does not know what she's talking about and plus she's ugly as f*** but if you don't dress like a w**** and act like a w**** like roma army but she is just as bad here is here mocking black people with this White supremacist https://youtu.be/W498SN1Ue9I 

Wow this woman I'm not saying she's ugly by saying she is a dumbass but she's not pretty either she always dresses low-cut shirts or dress is showing off her boobs being a dumb bimbo like she is she supports Andrew Kate and Tristan Tate and Andrew Tate who supports beating women and treat them like s*** and the baby makers not have fun I'll be happy nothing else and it's dumb b**** supports it hope the same thing happens to her and see how she likes it

[waynes-multiverse]

This chapter was soooo sweet, it rotted my teeth right down to the core 🥹🍯🍭

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

I don't know why, but that moment was so relatable. Poor girl 😂

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

We've talked about this in the last chapter, but that is so unbelievably cruel. I really feel for Jo here. I really do 💔 As much as I love swooning over Dean, I wanna slap that man so hard here. God help me 😭

“I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Monica? Is that you? 😂

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

Oh... Oh! I did not put that together until now that Andrea was that Andrea lol

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said.

Oh, I hope she quits that stupid sales job and opens her own bakery by the end of this series. Since she went to culinary school, it'd be perfect! She already has a whole firehouse as a customer 😆

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

Oh dear effing Lord! That whole "burn & ice" bit killed me! If he had done that to me, I would've just made a sound like velociraptor and died on the spot. Holy fucking crap, that was some icy hot action! 🔥🫠

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied.

Oh Grandpa George, you never disappoint ❤️ I probably swoon more over him than Dean in this series. Isn't that something 😂

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said.

N'awww 🥹 And I love the 70s roller rinks! I wrote a whole chapter about it in Plastic Hearts lmao (since that series is set in the 80s) 🛼🪩

And I loved the getting ready scenes with Dean and the reader and that they both mirrored each other and showed their nervousness. But I hated the fact that Dean thought he had to be someone else and change for her. That's not why she picked you, you dumbass! But also, so typical of Dean to think he wouldn't be enough... 😔

“Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

Ah Sam! The voice of reason. Thank you for this 🙏

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

*raises eyebrow* Oh Dean... you're such a mess, God help me 🤨😂

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

His inner monologue is killing me 🤣

Although they had their initial difficulties, I'm so happy she saw how he was struggling and they ended up having such a sweet and honest date ❤️ While it was cute he tried to "impress" and "woo" her, how long could he have kept up that ruse, huh? If he wants to have a real relationship, he needs to be real and, thus, himself.

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said.

Awwww, pooh bear 🥺

Loved, loved, loved this chapter! Amazing job, Zep! Can't wait to dive into the next one and see what you have in store for these two lovebirds 😍👏

Smoke Eater - Part 3

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates

Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”

Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.

You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”

And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 

“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.

“Thanks,” you replied.

You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.

You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows. 

“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.

You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”  

“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”

Your smile brightened a bit.

“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink. 

Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.

She was, however, getting impatient.

“Mind if I join you?”

The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.

“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.

And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.

“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”

Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.

“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table. 

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.

“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”

His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.

“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.

Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.

“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”

Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”

He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.

“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.

You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.

“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”

“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.

All the while, Christine kept singing.

“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”

“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.

“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”

Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.

“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.

“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”

Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”

His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.

“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”

You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.

Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.    

“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.

He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.

“Do they hurt?” he asked.

You blinked at the genuine note in his question.

“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.��

Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

“That feel better?” he asked.

If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.

And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.

Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.

You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.

You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.

He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.

“It was good to see you,” he said.

“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

His smile grew with his huff of amusement.

“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.

You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.

“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.

“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.

“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!

Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.

“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.

Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.

“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”

Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.

“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”

You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.

Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.

“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.

“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.

“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.

“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”

You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”

Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.

You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.

“Okay, Dean’s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.

Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.

“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.

“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”

“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.

“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”

She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.

“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.

“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”

“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.

“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.

“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.  

You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”

Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”

“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.

George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”

Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.

George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”

You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”

You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”

“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”

Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.

“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”

“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.

You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.

“In about ten minutes.”

“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?

“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”

“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”

“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”

“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.

Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”

Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”

“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.

“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.

Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…

“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.

“Hold the fort, Sammy.”

His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place. 

He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house. 

He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.

Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.

You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.

His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.

Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)

He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.

“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.

Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”

You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.

“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.

It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.

Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.    

“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”

You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.

It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.

Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.

“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.

“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”

You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.

“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.

“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.

“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”

Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”

“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”

Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.

“Wow. That’s your car?”

Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.

“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.

Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.

“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.

“Think she likes you too,” he said.

Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt. 

“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”

A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.

“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”

You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.

Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.

“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.   

By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.

Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.

“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.

Again, Dean had a conundrum.

He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”

You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.

“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.

“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”

“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.

When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.

“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.

Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.

“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.

You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.

“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”

His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”

You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to dust your cheeks. He could still spot it in the dim lamplight, and it made him smile.

“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”

You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until that that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.

You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.

So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.

“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”

There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.

“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”

As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.

It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?

You frowned and squeezed his hand.

“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.

Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.

He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”

He gave you a wry smile.

This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.

Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.

He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.

That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.

“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.

“You want a beer instead?” you asked.

“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”

“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”

You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”

“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”

Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.”

He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…

Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.

And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.

AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?

Next Time:

You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.

Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.

He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.

He started to lean in…

Keep Reading: PART 4

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[theuniverseawakens347]

Nateana read the bottom to top, dumbass jealous bitch,

Hi mommy coley 💋😌🫢😂

Damien stop laughing w t Polk! At Deja beat up nae GUYS SO SHE GOT HER BF TO TRY N SHOOT HER… she a weak bitch .. only when IM AROUND WILL SHE FIGHT LIKE THE SLAUSON MALL CAUSE SHE TRIED TO JUMP ME IN 5th grade in the bathroom… WITH 5 BITCHES.

Okay, Miss badass CUNT ! ALL CAUSE SHE FOUND OUT I STOLE A PHONE NICOLE TELE TOLD ME WAS RIGHTFULLY MINE FROM MY GRANNY.. threw it in the trash and ya found it.. SO YOU ARE TELEPATHIC LYING BITCH.. but I’m crazy.. mommy told you to look there CAUSE SHE TOLD ME TO THROW IT THERE EMBARRASS YOU DIGGING IN THE TRASH.. who$re. Sold ya soul in 4th grade w Danny .. n raped ya mom INVITRO IVF for Cayden n Deja baby 🥴 weirdo incest bitch, CHRIS WHITE YA COUSIN N YA KNEW CAUSE CORREY TOLD YOU! N DRE YA FAMILY TOO but you don’t care nae 🤮🤢

So you hood niggas wana be told ya truths .. ya dropping ya golds n returning what’s mine bitch??

Wana know if you got a pure heart forced into some shit, my🏃🏽‍♂️eazyii 🧋🍩(Thai tea me likes too Tyler 🙂) j🪀j🪀.. cc my face skin brother rimpau crew …

Or you wana know if you’re burnt out the soul and doing it cause you wan but playing the race card / poor traumatized n abused Christ n Baylee 🙂

Or if you in between ,, elexus nae ALL YOU 54 th bitches that went to school w me ALL … Donnie you might be category 1 .. I’ll weight ya fake bbl hips out soon.. thanks for telling me about Lexi, you missed ya played a part for ya music career w your cousin you dated during your sypher in who “beat you” pr * minor stint for $$

Yal on that

🤷🏽‍♀️

Alissa moron and DYME Taylor beat … fuck it we here might as well ball… but imma be picky on how deep I fall.. z

Naw babies ALL N OR NOTHING,

Cookie cutting corner ass bitches,

Tf you thinking,

Clearly NOT STRAIGHT,

Then ya wana pray to god or wonder … ironic they end up being the bitch and nigga you hate DEEP..

Yeah… interesting COVID we bout to be having .. but some of you we talking fades ,

Lily mom Lauren London Jada smith, n nae too…

BOXING STYLE BITCH ELEXUS YOU WANA BE ALL TALK CRIP FOR VIVCCA IIGHT BLOOD LETS SEE THE SEQUAL ,

Squabble on the equal for jumping me,

Daniella bitch ass too

Eric turned,

Ya seen Diego choke out session w Mr. Wright ,

I PICK N CHOOSE,

You bitches think ya soo “bad n cool”

But I TAKE YA NERVES BABY TO KNOW ITS YOU,

Losers.

Janae turner know I’m not a bitch, but I WILL PLAY LIKE ONE W MY DEATH PETS LETTING YOU KNOW ITS YOU DA FOOL ,

At Shannon laughing at you,

Slapping that bitch for touching my damn Halloween glitter shirt nonstop RAPE , then running cause it was her nerves but she had an audieance so she had to “act cool” .. but “Shannon can you beat her up for me”

TF MY NIGGA!? Okay

Naetea jealous cause I could pull up hang MORE THAN YOU N THE BOYZ THROWING WAYNE N KIOSHANE AROUND THE PLAYYARD BY THE COLLAR WHILE MY RIGHTFUL WHITE SKIN DADDY GOT ME 😌🤷🏽‍♀️

I PLAY W THE BOYS I LIKE TO ROUGH HOUSE CAUSE RIGHTFUL BABY A WEIRDO ME N MALE FORM 💋

What’s that saying “fight someone your own size”

You bitches better train, AND NOT MY GUIDE OR KYLAN HANSON BOXING NATEANA.

I’ll kill you.

[angeloncewas]

I envy some of you for the amount of free time you clearly have

[mrvlbimbo]

A Series of Nights pt 4

Night four (a night out)

Pt 3

“Ohmygod, we slept together,” she gasped out, scrambling up from her position and grabbing his shoulders excitedly. 

“I think I’d remember that,” he chuckled, not sure what she was getting at. His foul mood was nowhere to be seen that morning, which was a nice change of pace. 

“No dumbass, we slept. Like for the first time in a month I got a decent night's rest,” she explained, shaking his shoulders. Her eyes were lit up with excitement and he couldn’t help but laugh again. 

AKA

partners awkwardly share a bed because its the only way for them to make the nightmares go away, chaos ensues

The next few weeks were soured with killings by the narcos. Pablo Escobar had been slighted by the Colombian government and he clearly wasn’t taking it well. When the dust first settled Javier tried to look on the bright side, this assassination made the cartel a more legitimate threat and it gave them more validity in their war against the narcos. 

Things were going well with the three partners. Although Murphy didn’t let up on his teasing, they had seemingly managed to convince him nothing was going on with them…yet. 

Steve spent the most time with the two of them and it wasn’t hard for him to see that there was some lingering tension. He wasn’t a body language expert but the way their eyes trailed over each other's bodies when they thought no one was watching was downright feral.  

So he spent his free time teasing them. And maybe he was a bit too interested and when he came home after a long day of work to tell his wife all about how his coworkers were obviously in love it was a bit weird. She of course found it endearing at first. But over time the waiting game started to annoy Connie as well and the two reluctant lovebirds gained another fan. 

With the two of them scheming, it was only a matter of time before they came up with a plan to get the oblivious agents together. Steve invited his coworkers out for a drink and Connie tagged alone, essentially making it a double date. 

Javier opted to meet them there, wanting to bring his own car so he could leave when he felt inclined. The rest of them loaded into Steve’s car. The two women quickly caught up, having known each other well enough back when Steve and his partner were working in Miami. Connie of course would not stop asking about Javier which she found a bit suspicious but not too much. She hadn’t met the man and it was natural for her to be curious about her husband's other partner. 

“Sooooo, Steve tells me you’ve got some workplace romance going on with one Javier Peña.” Connie giggled, pushing the other woman for details about her budding affair with the playboy agent. 

“Your husband is a nosey little gossip, Connie. There's nothing going on between me and Peña.” She couldn't help the little smirk that pulled at the corners of her lips. The idea of having a “workplace romance’ with agent Peña wasn't a bad thing to think about. 

“Well maybe not yet,” Steve mutters, causing her to give him an unamused look, rolling her eyes and groaning at his persistence. Connie takes that as her signal to get up and grab them some drinks. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” she snapped, glaring across the table at her partner. 

He didn't respond, instead just giving her a knowing look and an infuriating little smirk. That was until Connie came back with a whole platter of shots. They took turns knocking them back until the plate was just about empty and then they got back to the conversation at hand. 

“It's obvious you two have the hots for each other,” he scoffed, words slurring a little bit under the influence of the tequila he had downed. 

“And how do you figure that?” there was less venom in her words now, a genuine interest peeking through. If she was being too obvious about her ‘barely-there’ crush she wanted to know. But she also wanted to know if there was any chance the feeling was mutual. 

“Oh Javi, I just can’t sleep without you,” he speaks in a downright dreadful impression of her, his southern accent poorly impersonating a breathy feminine tone she rarely if ever spoke in. “That's how you sound,” he asserted. 

“I do not.” She couldn't help but giggle at his little display, blushing at the idea of her coming onto Javi so brazenly. Maybe it would work, she had just enough drinks in her to consider it. 

“Oh and don't even get me started on him.” She sat forward in her seat at that. Connie smiled at her obvious interest when Steve mentioned the other man and how he might feel about her. “The way he looks at you should be considered public indecency. Plus I dont think I’ve ever seen him smile like he does when you’re giving him grief.” 

“Speak of the devil,” Connie added as the man in question strided through the door. 

He walked in like he owned the place, looking around passively until he noticed the people he was looking for. 

He looked calm but the breath was sucked out of his lungs when he sat down next to his partner and noticed her far too short red dress. It was fitted with a deep v and a slit in the side so it just barely covered everything that needed to be covered. 

He grabbed a shot glass off the table and threw it back before he even spoke. He meant to stay sober that night and for the most part he did but he needed that first shot to take a bit of the edge off. “You clean up nice,” his partner commented, trailing her hand over his arm absentmindedly as she took a shot of her own. 

He could already tell her and Steve had had a bit too much to drink before he got there. He cursed himself for the extra few minutes he spent in front of the mirror deciding on what button up shirt and jeans combo he would wear that night. Connie spoke up, being the only one not a bit intoxicated. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Agent Peña. Your partners have told me a lot about you,” she commented, giving the other woman a knowing look. 

“All bad I assume,” he joked, placing a hand on his partner’s shoulder as if he was asking for confirmation. 

“I can’t believe you think so little of me, Javi,” she scolded, slurring her words a bit as she swayed in her seat. 

His body heated up at the nickname. Plenty of people called him that but it was different hearing it from her lips. She rarely called him by his first name anyways, opting for his last name instead. 

“Let's dance!” Steve offered, tugging his wife out of the booth after him. Clearly he wanted to get his hands on her in a way that was appropriate for a public setting and that was the best way to do so. 

Javier looked over at the woman sitting next to him and grinned. “You gonna dance with me, partner?” he teased, lacing his fingers with her and standing. 

She stood shakily and followed him to the dancefloor, stumbling over her feet and leaning against him heavily. She swayed against him to the music, taking in the distinctive smell of his cologne and his firm hands on her waist. The bumping music of the bar was the only sound between them, both knowing any conversation would make the whole thing awkward. 

Their close proximity and the friction of dancing was bound to cause a situation for Javier. He excused himself before he could get himself in trouble for grinding his very obvious erection on her ass. 

When he returned she was at the bar with another glass of something dark. She sipped it down quickly and placed it next to another empty glass that hadn’t been taken yet. Before he could take the seat beside her another man seemed to have the same idea. 

He glared at them from across the bar, hot anger coursing through his body. He wasn't the jealous type, he had no room to be. None of the women he was with ever had any implication of exclusivity. He didn’t mind it that way, he knew he was the best so he didn’t need to be the only one. 

It wasn’t jealousy he was feeling, it was rage. She was well past drunk and this creep was looming over her, staring her down with a predatory gaze. Javi was gritting his teeth when the man leaned closer to her and put his hand on her leg.

She shrunk away from him, not able to get up from her seat in her drunken haze. She looked scared and confused, he saw red.

He wanted to rush over there and punch the guy in the jaw, but he needed to handle this with tact. Instead he calmly walked over and took her face in his hand, “How's my girl?” he murmured in her ear, so close his lips were brushing her cheek in a closed mouth kiss. 

“Javi!” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and trying to pull him closer to her. By now the man who was bothering her was long gone, giving the two of them a glare from across the bar. 

 “Come on. Let’s get you home,” he grumbled, dragging her out of the bar. 

He draped an arm around her shoulder to keep her steady as he led her to the car. She giggled as she stumbled over herself, leaning most of her weight onto his chest. 

She haphazardly fell into the car once the door was open, trying to pull him in after her. He stood firmly, pulling out of her grasp so he could get into the driver's seat. 

The tense air of the ride home was broken by the weight of a small hand trailing over Javier’s thigh. His breath hitched as he coaxed her hand off his leg and back into her own lap, intertwining their fingers to keep her still. 

“Hands to yourself,” he scolded. She was clearly very drunk and he didn’t want her trying anything she would be embarrassed about in the morning. 

Unfortunately, there was no way he could keep her from opening her mouth, which was made evident after he had herded her into her apartment. She fell onto the couch with a huff. “Take my clothes off,” she whined, missing the way his eyes widened at her comment due to her being utterly shitfaced.

“Let's get you to bed,” he replied, ignoring her request. He grabbed her waist and manhandled her over his shoulder so he could carry her into the bedroom. 

He set her down on the bed in a less than gentle manner. She grumbled at that and tugged at the straps of her dress. “No outside clothes on my bed,” she slurred, waving her arms in the air as a sign for him to help her out of the dress. He groaned and stepped closer so he was at the edge of the bed. Closing his eyes, he reached out and pulled the dress over her head. 

When he didn’t hear her moving to change into any sleeping clothes, he opened his eyes but looked over her shoulder instead of at her. “Put some clothes on,” he commanded. 

“No. Feels better like this,” she replied, crawling under the covers and nuzzling into the soft sheets. 

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not having planned to spend his night babysitting his drunk coworker. Lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed when she reached for his hand. 

“What's a pretty thing like you doing here?” she slurred, both of her eyes snapped shut and then opened in a lazy attempt to wink. 

He wasn’t sure if she meant in the apartment, in this city, or in the country of Columbia. Or maybe she didn’t mean anything at all, that was the most likely thing. He had been called many things by many women but pretty was not often one of them. 

He pulled his hand out of her weak grasp and stripped his clothes off so he could get into bed. As soon as he was under the covers she pressed herself into his side, stroking a hand over his chest. He took a sharp inhale and wrapped his arm around her in return. 

“So pretty,” she mused, bringing her hand up to cradle his face and bring his eyes to her. “You gonna show me a good time?” she ran her finger over his lips, a clear look of lust in her eyes. “I’ve been trying to fuck you for weeks now,” she whispered, leaning closer so their lips were almost touching. 

“You’re drunk,” he stated, not wanting to hear anymore of her intoxicating words because he knew they weren't true. 

“Am not,” she slurred, accepting his rejection and snuggling into his side. He was acutely aware that she was completely naked save for a pair of lace underwear, which made it feel more scandalous if anything. 

He tried to steady out his breathing as she quickly fell asleep next to him and he wondered if this was some sort of divine punishment for his womanizing ways. 

The next morning was eventful to say the least. While Javier expected to wake up in the position he went to bed in, that isn’t what happened. He woke to a cold and empty bed. It was what he was used to with her but somehow it still surprised him. 

He put his jeans on and stepped into the kitchen. He was greeted by the sight of her in that damn robe. It was always just a bit too short and a bit too tight, but with her straining to grab a bowl from a high shelf it was covering pretty much nothing. 

The gentlemanly thing to do would be to help her, and so in a sleep ridden haze that’s what he did. He absentmindedly placed a hand on her exposed hip as he reached over her to grab the bowl. 

She took a shaky breath in at the contact of his hand and his chest pressing to her back. “Thank you,” she murmured.  

“Sure thing,” he replied simply, staying there for a moment even after the bowl was safely on the counter. His voice was a bit loud and she clearly winced at the words. 

“You ok?” he questioned. 

“Hungover,” she groaned, leaning back into his touch. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to the feeling of her pressed against him. 

“Yeah. You were very drunk last night.” He laughed a bit, remembering her drunken antics. 

She spun around frantically, her face only an inch from his chest. He stepped back a bit but put his hands on the counter beside her so she was still caged between him and the cabinets. Her eyes widened with realization when she saw the smirk on his face. “Oh my god! Did we?” 

“Oh believe me, you’d remember,” he replied, the sly grin on his face growing wider. 

“Javi!” She exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment. It was rare he saw her shaken like this, he would be lying if he said it wasn’t kinda cute to see her go shy from something as simple as the idea of having sex with him. 

“Plus I’d never take advantage of you like that. Even if you were practically throwing yourself at me,” he assured her, the teasing  tone not leaving his voice for more than a second. 

“I was NOT,” she yelped, trying her best to defend herself from embarrassment even though she was clearly failing. 

“No? I seem to remember you saying that you want to fuck me. Is that true?,” he questioned, leaning close to her and whispering in her ear. His voice was raspy from the morning as well as lust. 

“I'm busy, Javi. Stop distracting me,” she whined, turning around and grabbing the bowl along with the rest of the supplies for pancakes. 

“Oh believe me. I can distract you all day baby,” he whispered, hands ghosting up and down her hips and waist. 

“Nope. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. Don’t even bother.” Her words said one thing but the way she pushed her hips back into his grip said another. 

He huffed and stepped away from the counter, ego slightly bruised at how quick she had shut him down. He sat patiently as she fixed breakfast, content to watch the way she hurried around the kitchen. The domesticity of it all was strangely turning him on, but pretty much everything she did turned him on.

[celestialking]

Midnight madness

◇ NSFW 18+ only ◇ Minors/Ageless blogs DNI◇ You will be blocked ◇

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: teasing, afab, degrading, dumbification, enemies to something, mentions of alcohol, mentions of wearing a skirt, taking pictures, hand on throat (not choking), let me know if i missed anything 

A/n: i’m not proofreading shit lmao, enjoy?

◇ Next part◇

Punz was a...mutual friend. No. Not really. You had met Punz one day after you had accompanied Dream and Sapnap to football practice. You had really gone to see Foolish play but unfortunately he had sprained his ankle and headed off to hang with Ponk and Sam at the arcade nearby. Not that you were going to tell them your ulterior motives. 

Sapnap, Dream and you had been loud, laughing up a storm as you headed to their apartment. 

"Fucking god Sapnap. Do you even wear deodorant?" You gagged shoving him away. 

"Sure I do, smells like apples see?" His arm looped around your neck pulling you closer to him. 

You whined and tried to shove him away, but it's not like Dream would have let you go without doing the same thing either. Idiots both of them. Big smelly idiots. They opened the front door, letting you in first. "Wow," you trailed off looking around. This was the first time you'd been over since they had moved out of the dorms. "Nice place," you whistled. Dream moved over to the fridge rummaging around for a snack. 

"Yeah it's a pretty nice place," 

"and cheap," Sapnap threw in, heading back to where you assumed- hoped the shower was. 

Dream's head peaked out from the fridge door. "Well kinda, it's cheap but with us only having part time jobs we needed another person," you raised an eyebrow. "So you have a roommate?" You asked, settling on the couch. Dream sure was taking his time choosing something. He shut the door and walked away with, to no surprise, nothing in his hand. "Yeah he's pretty cool," Dream smiled. You pouted. "Why didn't you ask me?" He looked a bit taken aback. 

"You? Live here with us?" Dream began fishing out the stuff for a drink of some sort. You couldn't tell as his entire body blocked the way. 

"W-well we didn't think you'd want to," 

"please, being a live-in whore for two strong sexy football players, sign me up,"

 Dream made the mistake of taking a sip while you were speaking. His eyes went wide as he choked. Bitter tears springing to his eyes as his lungs attempted to force the liquid back out. "What?!" He wheezed. "Don't act like you wouldn't like it, you freak," Dream rolled his eyes, setting his cup down.

"Whatever. I'll be back, don't set the couch on fire," your raised an eyebrow at the retreating blonde. Why the fuck would you light the couch in fire? And with what? Dream's fucking weird. You sighed relaxing into the cushion. Someone jiggled the lock of the front door brutally kicking it open.  

"Jeez what did the door do to you sourpuss?" you spoke from the couch. 

"Shut up," the blonde snapped. 

He paused before looking over. "What a minute, you're not Sapnap," you made a slight face. "I'm offended. . . I think?" he threw a computer bag onto the table ignoring you. 

"You must be the roommate," 

"the roommate," he repeated scoffing. "My name is fucking punz," 

you were starting to get irritated with him real quick. "Well how was I supposed to know they didn't mention your name dumbass," Punz had begun sifting through the pantry. "Well you're not that important either princess," he found a bag of chips. Before you could respond Sapnap returned, hair dripping from his shower. 

"Punz what's up dude?  This is (y/n) she's the one we told you about," you glared at Punz for his obvious lie. 

He shot you a wink before disappearing into a back room. He hadn't said much to you that day or any day since then but he gave you the urge to shove a shoe in his mouth. It was almost your last year and things hadn't changed much. 

Once again you found yourself in the same position, perched on the couch when Punz walked in. Sapnap had just gotten into the shower so he might not save you this time and Dream was hanging out with Fundy. You watched his eyes trace down to your chest. 

You scoffed. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing," you smirked softly, smoothing your skirt out. 

That drew Punz's eyes to the silky fabric. "Jeez, that skirt really matches your whore lifestyle too," he spat. You chuckled lowly. "Oh you have no idea," he watched as you slowly pulled the fabric up your thigh. Punz waited and waited for another sliver of color to appear. You were wearing no underwear. Punz's cheeks flushed with color once he came to the realization. He snapped out something quick under his breath before stalking away. Sapnap came back into the room rubbing a towel on his now damp hair. 

"What was his problem?" "No idea," you smiled. This rest of this semester was about to be oh so fun. At least you thought it would be. All your classes kept you busy and away from the boys, but once summer hit? It was sun out, tits out. You were at their apartment all summer long. Whether it was because their balcony gets more sun so you're sunbathing in a bikini there, or eating a popsicle a bit too seductively in front of Punz, you were there. 

Your goal? 

Piss Punz off. 

Boy was he fucking rude, but he was also hot. You saw him screaming at a video game once and you thought you were going to cream. You thought he was going to break eventually. Punz was tough as shit. You started getting a little bored and moved on to petty pranks. He casually mentioned he hated pickles once. That was a mistake. He was pissed to find you somehow managed to hide a pickle in every meal he ate for a week straight. Only took 20$ each to bribe the boys. 

Honestly your whole plan was getting a bit exhausting but the thought of just going up to Punz and asking if he wanted to fuck wasn't a better idea either. Dream and Sapnap thought they'd take it off your mind however, bringing you to an apartment party a few stories up from them. 

You hadn't had much to drink other than when Sam arrived. 

He took a shot but didn't swallow. Instead he walked over to where you sat with Karl, tilted your head back, and poured the shot into your mouth from his lips. Sapnap and the other screamed in the background. None of them thought that he would actually do it. 

Karl giggled the whole way before launching into a conversation of who's leaving the party with who. Your migraine kicked in around 1 am but most of the people there were either wasted, passed out, or hiding in one of the very few definitely not soundproof rooms. "Just get Punz to drive you home," Dream said. "I don't want you walking alone at this time of night, especially since I know half these people are going to drive home. You might get hit," Sapnap said. You sighed deciding to put up with the blonde. Honestly you were in a bad mood already. You unlocked their front door heading to Punz's bedroom. 

You paused a foot in front of the door. 

Let him not be a jerk tonight.

Please. 

You knocked on his door softly. "Come in," Punz's muffled voice flowed through. You cracked open the door. The blonde was sitting at a gaming setup, a pair of black glasses sat upon his nose. He seemed confused on why you would step in, his nose seemed to wrinkle with disgust. You took a breath. "Sapnap and Dream are still at the party but they can't take me home but didn't want me to walk back to the dorms in the dark. Can you drive me over there," he blinked. "No," then Punz turned back to the computer. You could see Valorant loaded up on the screen. 

"No? What do you mean no," 

"I mean no, I didn't know you needed someone to dumb it down for you," your cheeks burned. "You're an asshat," He stood up towering over you. "Excuse me?" You crossed your arms,  trying not to back down, but you hadn't realized how much taller he was than you. 

"You're such a prick, this is a fucking waste of my time," you spat turning on your heel. 

Punz was quick to grasp your wrist. 

Oh hell no. 

You were quick to turn with a slap but Punz caught your other wrist. A soft grunt left your lips as you tried to pull back. His eyes trailed down to your lips. You couldn't help but do the same. 

Fuck it. 

You both had the same idea as your lips clashed together. Punz's hands quickly moved down to your hips, grasping them tight. The kiss was hot and fiery, his tongue swirling with yours. He pulled away panting, pushing you back towards his bed. "I should have known you wanted to jump me like this," you made a noise of disbelief. "Shut the fuck up," Punz shoved you down against his sheets. 

"No you shut the fuck up, you've been prancing around in front of me like a little whore, now it's my turn to finally get you back," Punz growled. 

You gulped, holy shit he's hot when he's pissed. "If you'd like to keep your clothes in one piece I suggest you take them off," his hands reached for his own shirt, pulling the cotton material over his head. You eagerly took yours off, slowing down when you got to your underwear. "Suck," Punz pushed his fingers into your mouth, groaning at the way your tongue circled them. He'd have to fuck your mouth next time. He wanted to be in you now. Punz pulled his fingers out positioning them at your hole. You spread your legs giving him more rook to work with. 

"Someones eager to be fucked," Punz teased lightly. 

"Shut up," you snapped embarrassed. 

He chuckled, beginning to open you up with his fingers. You were practically crushing his two fingers, he couldn't wait to fuck you. Punz moved quicker than you realized, giving you no warning as to what was happening next. 

"Oh fuck," you cried out as his tongue replaced his fingers. Your thighs clamped around his head. Punz gripped your thighs tightly, pinning them to the bed below. 

"Stop squirming," he demanded, glaring up at you through his lashes. 

You tried so hard not to move, getting lost in the pleasure. Punz's lips attached to your clit, teasing you endlessly. His eyes trained on your face, watching those sinful expressions that currently were reserved just for him. Punz pulled away leaving you shaking from how close you were. He rutted his cock against you, gathering slick. He teased your hole, never fully entering. "You going to fuck me or what?" You whined. Punz rolled his eyes. He pushed in, groaning at the tight squeeze. 

"F-fuck," he moaned breathily. 

"Don't get a lot of pussy do you? Gonna cream already?" You teased.

 Punz made a soft growl, bottoming out. His pace was slow at first, taking his time to draw out your pleasure. You whined. "Seems like you're enjoying yourself to me princess," Punz grinned cockily. His hands smoothed down to pin your wrists, rolling his hips into yours. You desperately needed him to go faster. "Well this doesn't change anything, I still hate you," you snapped looking away, your tone lacking bitterness entirely. Punz just chuckled watching your face turn scarlet. 

"yeah keep telling yourself that princess, especially when it's my cock in you instead of some idiot like sapnap," your glanced back at him gathering the last bit of fire. "Well as least he would fuck me good enough to shut me up," your breath caught in your throat as soon as the words left your lips. Maybe that was a little too far. Punz's eyes narrowed. 

"Is that how you want to play? So fucking drunk on my cock you don't even know what words are leaving those pretty lips of yours," his hand slid down to your throat. 

"You want to be fucked good? Well ill fuck you. I'll fuck you dumb," Punz growled. 

"I don't want to see a single thought behind those eyes of yours by the time I'm done," you choked on a moan as he gave a single harsh thrust. Your back arched, lifting your hips a bit. Punz was quick to grip them tight, pulling them down to meet his thrusts. "P-punz!" You cried. "Go ahead baby, scream my name a little louder," he urged you. His hips pistoned into you, his cock stretching and filling you in the best of ways. His pace was absolutely brutal, you cried and squirmed beneath him. 

Even if you wanted to beg for him to go faster or slow down you couldn't. Every time you opened your mouth nothing but broken words and sinful noises came out. Punz was having the time of his life, high on the power you gave him, turning you into nothing but a quivering, babbling mess. "Tell me how good I'm doing," he murmured, burying his face into your neck. "Tell me how good it feels to be filled with my cock," his hand gently gripped your chin, turning your head to the side. Punz's lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking marks he knew would last for days. 

"You feel so fucking good princess, I'd keep you here for the rest of the week if I could," he spoke in between leaving marks. 

His hips had slowed down, now rolling deep thrusts into you. 

"Keep you here sitting nice and pretty on my cock while I play games," his thumb reached down to slowly rub and pinch your clit.

"Fuck you nice and good when I  lose a match," he really could have you falling apart at his fingertips forever. He'd have to thank Sapnap and Dream for sending you over. Your hips bucked into him. "Wanna see you cumming all over my cock," he spoke. His low voice combined with his filthy words and the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving brought you  incredibly close to the edge. You just needed that last little bit. 

Let me help you, pretty baby," Punz pulled back, giving a few harsh thrusts right against that special spot. 

You cried out, grasping the sheets so hard you thought you'd rip them. "Nngh punz," you trembled, cumming around him. Punz fucked you through your orgasm, listening to the sweet honey dripping whimpers of overstimulation. He grunted softly, cumming deep inside you. He practically laid on top of you, slowly fucking it deeper inside. Punz pressed a few sloppy kisses to your collarbone as you both calmed down. Hey at least the migraine was gone now. Finally he pulled out, watching cum drip down onto his sheets covering the inside of your thighs. 

"Mind if i?" He trailed off reaching for his phone. You blushed. 

"N-no it's fine," 

Punz grasped his phone taking a picture of the creamy mess he made. He would definitely be bragging to Sam later. Gently he helped clean you up, even changing the sheets for the most part. You both laid in the bed silently. It was a bit awkward. "So I guess I'll go sleep on the couch or something," you said slowly. You grasped the edge of the blanket pulling it up. "No just- ugh," his hand settled on the back of your head shoving you into his chest. You glanced up slightly, seeing him looking annoyed at his ceiling. He couldn't deny the small blush on his cheeks. 

"Punz-" you cooed. 

"Go the fuck to sleep," he snapped. His words seemed to drip with poison but the way he held you tighter to him, told you a different story. 

[deadthehype]

Snoop Dogg & Dr. Dre at rehearsals for the Up In Smoke Tour in San Diego.

The rehearsal occurred at the same exact time Kobe was taking over Game Four of the 2000 NBA Championship. Snoop obviously knew his stage marks. So, while Dre continued directing, he hilariously split the scene to catch the end of Game Four.

My dumbass told Snoop that the Lakers-Pacers Game Four still going on in Indiana while he was rehearsing was a barn burner. This is him fixing to split. Snoop leaves the stage. Shaq fouls out. And Kobe, the crowd silencer, takes over.

Photographed by Daniel Rothenberg

[boo-cool-robot]

Which X-Men Characters would Each FatT Cast Member Play?

Keith: Iceman, definitely Iceman. Iceman is the gay class clown who's constantly cracking wise and kneecapping his own life to cover up deep anxiety, and that's a Keith character.

Sylvia: OBVIOUSLY Emma Frost--Diamond-skinned team mean girl who trails cutting quips in her wake AND also a dedicated teacher to young mutants? Hell yeah!

Art: Is it typecasting to say that he should play Bishop or Cable? Probably, but he does the big gruff soldier dude character so well. If we're looking for a goofier character, Sunspot. 

Dre: Definitely a charming character--Either Rogue (Southern belle who loves to brawl) or Nightcrawler (quirky sweetheart almost-priest). Is Nightcrawler too close to just being Valence? Perhaps.....perhaps....

Jack: Their characters tend to have a lot of range, so it's hard to pin a perfect character down for them. Them leaning into the "total dumbass" aspect of Gambit would be wildly funny. I could also see them as a fiery battle teen--Hope or Surge maybe? Of course, young Orth is VERY close to Cyclops, so maybe I’d just want them to do Cyclops.

Janine: I'd say her characters tend to be elegant ladies with a bit of reserve to them. Karma, M, or Danger would all be interesting, with slightly different facets that she could bring out.

Ali: Her characters tend to have an exuberance that make Jubilee or Kitty Pryde natural fits. Broun proves that she's surprisingly good at playing an asshole though, so maybe Northstar as the wildcard.

And last but not least, Austin: Magneto is the one of the most Austin Walker Boyfriend Characters to ever exist in all of popular media. He's got it all: Ideological drive, enormous ego, dramatic flair, homoerotic chess, and divorce!