#fun skunk story

[skunkes]

I'm v curious abt Talon's mesoamerican origins and evolution in general how does his accent sound when written out? after such a long life what is the strongest vestige of those times he has (aside from physical features and so on). I can't believe some rando bloodsucker colonized my boy

I have no idea what his accent wld sound like as the few videos i cld find of people speaking his original language, are, of course, mainly spanish speakers! And I can sometimes hear the difference in spanish as they switch between the 2 while being interviewed but i struggle to mentally transplant that as to how it'd sound in English ykwim 😭 there's also the fact that its the modern language spoken by them so it has evolved alongside and borrows from spanish anyway, by those who still speak it and speak both Today

Im actually still zeroing in on fleshing out more of that lore, since I can't find too much info on the specific culture i envision for him, it may really just have to be "fantasy culture INSPIRED by the people" instead, so i dont completely botch actual historical info 😮‍💨 either that or go very vague off of the info available

[mimikip-stuff]

Ink Demonth: Devour

TW: Blood and gore

I had so much fun drawing this one, I haven't drawn Swap Skunk in a good while. It felt good to draw the bastard again- now as an ink cannibal! What can he say- toon just tastes too good~ (and the occasional human)

Two more days of Ink Demonth....it still feels kinda unreal how fast it went XD

[mothandpidgeon]

Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks. 

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile. 

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids. 

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle. 

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice. 

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie. 

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful. 

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.  

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day. 

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit. 

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says. 

You stifle a laugh. 

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.  

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does. 

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober. 

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles. 

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.” 

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering. 

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak. 

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter. 

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like. 

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes. 

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too. 

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. 

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate. 

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited. 

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat. 

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes. 

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs. 

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say. 

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands. 

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess. 

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that. 

“Yeah,” he replies. 

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again. 

“You’re staring at me,” you say. 

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair. 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time. 

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull. 

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same. 

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss. 

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager. 

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you. 

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses. 

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging. 

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand. 

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care.  The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting. 

“Ow,” you complain. 

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks. 

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain. 

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly. 

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says. 

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin. 

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat. 

“Me either,” you tell him. 

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do. 

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need. 

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off. 

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute. 

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond. 

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating. 

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need. 

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle. 

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release. 

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be. 

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him. 

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music. 

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend. 

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down. 

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“I really like you,” he says. 

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own. 

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say. 

-

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

[dulceackles]

Ambivalent Part three- The crime

Previous part: (x)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, strong language, sex, violence, enemies to lovers, alcohol, all that. Mention of dead body, a little bit of horror. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. Also, it is a Y/N, but I've created a background story and a fictional place around it for creative and storytelling reasons. Will not be describing exterior characteristics, tho!

Summary: Dean used to be really important to Y/N but ever since he suddenly left her without telling her why, she's been avoiding even mentioning him. Now, after years, he's back in town, but not because of her. There's a case. The only things she's certain is that she doesn't like him being back.

Word count: 4.1k

Y/N had left her apartment about 5 minutes ago. Joselyn and she had decided to meet up in front of the bar. Luckily the bar wasn't too far from her apartment but then again, nothing in Dimdale was that far.

Y/N: gonna be there in 10 mins!

She texted her friend. It was mid-spring, but the weather had been freezing for the past two weeks. Y/N wrapped her jacket tighter around her as a breeze of wind ran through her hair.

The streetlights flickered once, then twice. The streetlights had not been fixed in years. They were old and rusty, and it was not one bit surprising they lived a life of their own when it came to nighttime. A few citizens had made complaints about them to the mayor, but the reply was always the same; The electricity crisis is the most real thread this town has. We have to keep that in mind. By saving electricity and redirecting our funds carefully, we assure to postpone the catastrophic effects the crisis as it worsts could provide. Every time, every election, and always the same mayor. If you asked Y/N, she thought it was all bullshit. The town was broke, it was obvious. Lost of all founds to keep even the streetlight in order and apart from couple new apartment buildings, public park and a shopping center, everything in Dimdale was rotting in place. It was like a ghost town, yet the townies kept it alive. And the moving out rate was surprisingly low, it was like something just kept them there. A love for a familiar hometown, perhaps.

The light flickered again, and then suddenly all the yellow streams of light disappeared. The lights went off.

"Damn it." Y/N went through her handbag to find her phone to check the time. 10:53pm. It isn't even midnight yet, why the lights go off already? Y/N thought while continuing to walk. Luckily she had lived Dimdale her whole life, and she knew the roads like her own pocket even in the dark. She hoped Joselyn didn't have to wait on her. Sure she wasn't late, but she hated it when she arrived last even if she wasn't late. She hated to be the one to make others wait. She made her way on a dark sidewalk until she heard a shrill rattle behind her. She turned around. Had she dropped something? She pointed a flashlight from her phone to a ground but saw nothing. She kept walking.

"He is drunk as a skunk! How are we going to get anything out of him." Sam studied the man sitting a few bar stools from him.

"Hey, it's not my fault, dude is lightweight;" Dean shrugged his shoulders and took a ship of his beer.

"I didn't say it was your fault, I'm just point out a fact," Sam said.

"Let's just try it out, work it or not. Nothing to lose here." Dean voiced his plan, already on his way towards the drunken shell of a man, Victor.

"Hey man! Having fun I see," Dean greeted Victor, taking the barstool next to him.

"Dë'éaån...! havEen't sEeN YuO in Agesss!" Victor launched himself to hug Dean like he was his life-long friend. Dean awkwardly hugged him back and waited for Victor to get back to his seat. Sam took a stand next to Dean, trying not to laugh at the sign of his brother and Victor reuniting.

Victor finally leaned back to his barstool, and only then he noticed Sam standing next to him.

"This is Sam, my brother." Dean introduced him.

"SäM! I'VE heard Of YoU!" Victor nearly giggled excitedly, "YeaHH DéaNie told ME a lot ábout you!"

"Oh Deanie? He has?" Sam looked at Dean amused. Dean gave him a look that clearly said, "shut up".

"So, Victor, How's it been?" Dean asked, smiling to Victor and leaning his elbow against the dirty bar counter.

Victor went on excitedly telling about his new job and new car and how they were expecting a second child with his wife, Hilda. He told them about his dump ass boss who thought he was a little bit more important than god himself and how he was planning on proposing to Hilda (Even tho they were already married. Dean knew it, but he had no heart to break it to Victor. That's how excited he was about proposing to her.) God, this dude had had about ten drinks too much.

"Hmm interesting. We heard about Sandra. Such a terrible thing." Dean shook his head.

"Yeah, must have been hard for you too, to be witnessing it." Sam added.

"Yup, I saw it with my own eyes too," Victors demeanor changed into a more serious one. It was clear the man was terrified of the memories he had.

"Saw what?" Dean asked, pretending not to know everything.

"The thing," Victors eyes locked with the wall in front of him. "It was not a human, I could tell, and no one, even the police, believed me. They said that maybe the killer had just dressed himself in a costume, but it was not a costume. It was floating, and it appeared out of nothing and disappeared into thin air."

"So Victor.. What did it do? Just came and left with Sandra?" Sam asked.

"No. I was walking behind her, not close to her, but the road was straight so I could see her all the time. I don't think she knew I was behind her. It was late...or early, a little bit before 4am. The streetlight were off, but the sun was just about to start rising so it wasn't pitch black, I swear. I SAW HER FINE." Victor started to yell suddenly and hit his fist into the bar counter.

"Woah, dude, we believe you." Dean tried to calm him down. Few people in the bar turned to look at them.

"Sorry it's just.. I saw it and no one believes me. The police claimed that I was drunk, and it was dark but...," Victor sighed. "She turned around, she was looking for something from her pockets, but she couldn't find it so she started to look from the ground and walk back. Towards me, she looked panicked even from far, and I was planning on asking from her if everything was fine once she came close enough but then.. Then the thing appeared. It was behind her, she never saw it, she was looking so closely to the ground. It reached out to touch her and then they both just disappeared. I called the police immediately, but they did nothing. They came and took me to jail for "prank calling". Then the next day Sandra's mom called about her being missing just as they were to let me go, they were about to take me as main suspect but then they took it back. I mean, for fuck's sake. And then her body was found."

"Hmm, That's something." Sam thought outloud.

"But there's something more weird." Victor looked betrified.

"And what's that?" Dean asked, taking a ship of his beer.

"Before the thing took Sandra, before it even appeared, the streeth lights... they all just blasted on, like fully on. The whole road was lit on like it was on fire." Victor said his voice shaking.

"The streetlights went on? Really? at night, aren't they supposed to be on?" Dean asked, a light amusement and disbelief in his voice.

"You don't get it, you outsider. They never ever put them on after 12am." He turned to look at Dean for the first time during their talk.

"Who's they?" Dean asked.

Victor was about to answer but then his eyes locked to the front door, right behind Dean. His face changed, it was like a new man morphied into him. This... a smile came to his face, like something super amusing was about to happen and he completely forgot the previous conversation that had brought this man into a state of true fear.

"Victor?" Dean asked, he was about to turn himself to check what had just walked through those doors but he didn't have to.

"Y/N, GIRLLL! Check who's hereee!" Victor yelled, he fully nearly screamed across the whole bar.

"God damn it, Victor." Dean

"Okay pal, It's your time to go home." A doorman walked over to Victor and grapped him by his upper arm.

"No please, we'll look after him, he'll behave." Sam tried to save Victor from being kicked out.

"Trust me, this one never does. I'm doing you a favor, you don't want to watch after him." The doorman laughed before escorting Victor out. Man he was drunk.

Dean's eyes locked with hers. She's so beautiful, He thought. She was wearing a black maxi dress, casual but sexy. Her hair was carefully done and she was wearing this...a god awful look on her face, like she had just withnessed something so disgusting it was classified as a crime. Oh, right, she had locked her eyes with Dean himself.

"Okay pall, it's your time to go home." A doorman came to stand next to Victor and grapped his upper arm.

"No, please. We'll look after him, he'll behave." Sam tried to save Victor from being kicked out.

"Trust me, he won't and you don't want to." The doorman said and escorted Victor out.

How dare he be here ruining the night? The one night I decide to go out and he's here, Y/N thought. She had been glaring the back of his head for 20 minutes now. He and Sam were still sitting in the same spot next to a bar counter they had been sitting since she and Joselyn arrived. They had took a table across the room but the bar was not big enough for Y/N to forget his presence.

"Like I will go get you some binoculars if you want me to." Joselyn commented. Joselyn had been sitting silently next to her friend.

"Sorry, I just... Why the fuck he needs to be here?" Y/N sighed, breaking her glare and turning to look at Joselyn.

"Free country I guess.. Anyways, I say we forget about him and have fun. Who's with me? I know I am." Joselyn grinned.

"suree," Y/N smiled. She promised she was going to try. She came to have a good night and one fuckboy wasn't going to stop that. besides, she know how annoying she was being and unfair to Joselyn. She too had had and experience of asking a friend out and then the friend is all obsessed over some and completely forgets her friend and original conversation subjects exist.

"I feel like im too old for this, sitting in a bar and beefing with a fuckboy. Like I didn't know fuckboys at this age existed anymore but apparently they do." Y/N shook his head.

"Trust me, they never go out of style. I bet there's a 87-year-old guy named Larry going around a nursing home breaking them old poor hearts." Joselyn giggled, "Let's go get drinks."

"No we can't" Y/N grapped Joselyns hand in panic, "He's literally right there next to a bar counter."

"I know and he's there for a purpose trying to pretend he didn't even see you but secretly waiting for you to go get a drink." Joselyn pointed out, "I'll go, you wait here."

"Okay but don't say anything to him." Y/N wasn't sure if she trusted her friend with this task.

"I would never!" Joselyn acted like she was hurt by her even thinking she'd do such a think and then winked at her and turned on her heels to trot to the bar counter.

Y/N pulled her phone from her handbag and started scrolling through it. She had no notifications, not a single text or anything but she still went through her phone, pretending she had like atleast thousand messages to reply. To her defence, feeling awkward when left alone at a bar was a really common feeling and distracting yourself with a weather app was a common response.

She had already checked next week's weather in Dimdale, Vancouver and Dallas when Joselyn finally came back with a tray with four drinks and four shots on it.

"Woah, what's all this?" Y/N looked at the tray in shock almost.

"Our drinks! Two drinks and two shots for you, same for me." Joselyn said and started to sort out the drinks on the table.

"Are we gonna like crawl back home from here?" Y/N giggled.

"No I was planning on passing out on the toilet and then taking a ambulance but you can take build-in the four-wheeler if you feel like it." Joselyn joked.

"truth or drink?" Joselyn asked, "But even if you pick truth you still have to drink tho."

"Okay, sure." Y/N was pretty sure she knew what was coming so she just picked up the first shot she got and downed it.

"What happened between you and Dean? You never talk about it and don't take this the wrong way but it was only like under a year old undefined long-distance relationship and you''ve been like shit about it for years after." Joselyn asked, she had always been curious.

"Well, I just.. It just sucked." Short but effective answer.

"Breakups usually do...And?" Joselyn didn't settle for that.

"I just really liked him. Like really, truly liked liked him.." Y/N continued

"Huge crush you had, I remember," Joselyn added. She knew Y/N maybe even had fallen in love but she knew better than poke at that. But two years crying over it was still a bit much she thought.

"Yeah, sure.," Y/N took her second shot and then drank little bit of her mixed drink to get the taste of alcohol out of her mouth, "He was the first guy I truly liked liked and I felt like it was mutual and I knew he had this job and all and he was away a lot and he never really even lived here but I feel like it was worth the wait and maybe even worth like you know.. eventually moving with him if it got that serious. And before he left me he gave me this ring.."

Joselyn gasped and took a sip of her drink. She was really into the story like she was watching a reality tv.

"Not a engagement ring you idiot!" Y/N laughed at her friends shocked expression, "It was just an old ring, he said it was special to him. It was really pretty tho. he said that he wanted me to have it. However, then two weeks later, he was supposed to be back in a week yet he calls me that he's not gonna come and that I should lose his number."

"No way!" Joselyn gasped again.

"Yeah, the way that he did it, like he couldn't even wait a week to get here and dump me face to face. I just know he lied about something and you know what I think it is?" Y/N turned to look check if Dean was still sitting where he had been. He was, he said something to Sam. "I think he lived a double live. I mean think of it."

"Yeah it does sound suspicios." Joselyn agreed.

"I tried to google this so called 'Family business' and nothing, not a single result nanywhere and his whole story was that the business was one of the fields best so kinda weird it's nowhere to be found.I think he had another woman, or like I was the another woman. And she must have found out and he panic because clearly he chose her." Y/N secretly wished she had third shot but she didn't.

"in that case not your lose girl, not your lose." Joselyn shook her head.

"I guess." She didn't see it as black and white, "Anyways, I think I know why he's now back. I think he wants to propose and needs the ring back."

"NO WAY" Joselyn yelped.

"shhhhhhh!" Y/N didn't dare to check who had turned around to look at them.

"Yup, I think he wants to propose with it and have it back but because he's such a dump ass liar he can't even be honest and ask it back but he has to put all of this show of being back in town with his brother. Sam even came talk to me and was like 'Idk what happened but I'm sorry blaahblaah' and trying to befriend me. I think Dean has put Sam in the business so he could ask the ring back because, i don't know, maybe they think i wouldn't give it back to him." Y/N said.

"Would you tho? Do you even have it anymore?" Joselyn knitted her eyebrows.

Y/N laughed a little bit, "Of course I have, I mean all of his other stuff he had left I threw away but I wouldn't throw away something he said was special to him. It's just a ring i mean, if he said it was special it had to have background story.."

"But don't you think it's bit weird he'd give the ring to you if he planned to propose with it one day?" The way Joselyn worded her gueston hurt Y/N feeling a little bit.

Truthfully, Y/N had felt her whole life that she was somewhat 'unloveable', like she just wasn't good enough for someone to love. And before Dean she had felt nearly invisiable and like she had to plant herself infront of people for them to even notice her and like beg for them to be with her and even then, if they happened to see her, they only wanted sex, sort time pleasure from her and nothing else. But with Dean, it had felt different. It had felt like she didn't have to try so hard to be loved and valued. She wasn't gonna admit it outloud but she thought she had loved him and that he loved her too but when it had begun clear that was not the case, it had broke her in ways she didn't even know her spirit could be broken. So for even Joselyn to guestion why he would give the ring to her made her feel stupid. Like had she fallen for a stupid lie? What it that transparent that he hadn't loved her,

"I don't know why he gave it to me. Maybe he was trying to keep the show on. I thought that maybe he lied and the ring was just a ring but why else would they be back? There's literally nothing else here for them exept the ring?" she replied, she felt herself getting drunk and she also felt a lump starting to form in her throat. Great.

She hated him, more than anything. She felt stupid, like she had walked around with rose pink glasses on thinking she had a love of her life next to her and he had let her believe that. And then she maybe was just a side chick. She couldn't proof it but she knew he had lied about something so if not that then what?.

"Yeah so that's that. That's his crime, that's what happened" Y/N leaned back in her seat. She wasn't feeling too well.

"I have to go to toilet," Y/N said and got up.

As she walked to the toilet she could feel her eyes watering and legs thumbling. She was more drunk than she thought she had been. But she was not going to cry in public, not over him.

But as she reached the bathroom and the door closed, she just felt tears escaping her eyes no matter how she tried to fight it.

"Stop it, you crybaby." She whispered to herself and she was going to insult herself more but she heard the door open. It was probably Joselyn, she probably noticed Y/N was crying.

"What happened?" concerned voice asked.

"I -" Y/n was about to start sobbing to her best friend but then she realized she was not in the room with her, "You nasty donkey what are you doing here? It's women's bathroom.

"Why are you crying?" Dean asked again, crossing his arms infront of her. Y/N tried to go around him and leave but he just stepped infront of her, blocking her exit.

"I'm not crying!" It came out in a full angry sob.

Dean trying to take a hold of her face and wipe her tears with his thumb but Y/N pushed his hands away.

"Don't touch me:" She hissed.

"Y/N please, I'm begging you. Don't be like this," Dean plead.

"Like what?" she asked him. Secretly she was glad she had done something that bothered him enough for him to ask her to stop.

"Don't be so angry and passive-agressive all the time and don't push me away constantly. Just tell me what happened?" He grapped her by her arms gently but firmly.

"I'm crying because..." Y/N started, "I just learned that when sloths mate the female sloth will climb up a tree and scream till a male finds her. And that just really moved me to tears."

"Very funny, very clever Y/N" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Isn't it." Y/N gave him a sarcastic smile and she could tell he was not happy at all about her behaviour. She thought that maybe he was getting a little bit angry too, "Would that work on you?" She asked.

"You can try." He looked her up and down.

"Do you want just like a full scream or would you prefer some pronunciation in there? Like maybe even a full phrase like ´somebody help me, There's a man in wome's bathroom!´ or something like that."

"You're in men's bathroom." Dean pointed out.

"No, i'm not."

"Yes, you are you sloppy drunk." Dean smiled a little bit but not in a malicious way. He thought it was cute how disoriented she was now that she was not fully crying anymore.

Y/N looked to her right, there indeed was a row of urinals that had not caught her attention earlier.

"So did you follow me here or did you just come here to have a shit?" Y/N asked and now she felt like crying again. She really thought he had came in for her.

"Maybe I came in to watch out for my fellow pals," He smirked, he had that smirk. Y/N stared at his lips. He noticed. She was going to tell him to go fuck himself just out of habbit at this point but then he pushed her against the bathroom wall and pressed his lips to hers.

She was going to push him away but her hands betrayed her, instead, they wrapped themselves around his neck. His skin was soft and his lips moved gently with hers. She could smell his musky aftershave. She tried to take a step and leave but her legs didn't listen to her either. Instead her right leg lifted itself up and pressed her thigh against the side of his hip. She could feel tingles at the bottom of her stomach. Dean grapped the back of her thighs and her legs, without a premision, wrapped themselves around him. Her hands wandered into his hair, pulling his soft hair a little bit. She could feel his tongue slid into her mouth and his stubble rubbed against her chin. she loved hated the taste of him so much. His fingers digged into the flesh of her thighs as he hold her body, pressing her more inbetween the wall and himself. she wanted him to kiss her deeply and tell her that whatever he had done before was a mistake and he loved her and wanted to be with her and he was ready to do what ever it took to proof to her that she was worthy of her trust and that there was no other woman and that she was everything to him fuck off, she wanted him to fuck off.

Someone moaned and Y/N realised it was her. Did I just fucking moan?? She thought, oh no.

He smiled into her lips, he had heard that. He was about to break the kiss and ask her if they should leave it for later and if she'd let him by her a drink (non-alcoholic because she had had enough) but she broke the kiss first.

"What do you think you're doing?" She sounded angry, again, per usual.

"Uhm.." Dean looked genuinedly suprised, and a little bit hurt. He put her down, carefully holding her till she found her balance.

"Y/N, I thought..." Dean started to apologize but what cut off.

"Don't think." She hissed and stormed out of the bathroom...

Next part (x)

// this chapter was literal hell to write. I lost it like 2 times because tumblr hates me and had to rewrite it so sorry if there's apnormal amount on typos, I tried to edit it the best I could.

[itsblasttothepast]

Hey I know this is random af but I just recently found your deep-dive lore of Checo as his fan, if you don't mind me asking is there any deeper relationship between Lewis and Checo as driver since they never really become teammate to begin with? As new checo fans I feel like I missed a lot of his lore

Oh anon, you have no idea what you've done. You opened the door to a rambling from ages ago, so fasten your seatbelt, because it will be a wild ride my friend, as I'm getting into this mode:

Checo and Lewis' story started with the first podium of my adorable Mexican: Malaysia 2012. He was P2, Fernando Alonso won, and Lewis was P3.

Look how happy my boy was, so excited for his first podium, next to the big honcho (Alonso back then). As Checo was just starting in F1, honestly I didn't know much about Lewis before that moment, but he always looked reserved and aloof, too cool for this bunch (nothing against Lewis, I like him, but he gives me that vibe even now).

In the press room, we all noticed Lewis looking at Checo like this, it was like 'what is this guy even doing here, with a SAUBER?' (Sauber was a middle-low table team).

We thought then that we would hate Lewis forever and ever for giving the evil eye to our boy, but to our surprise, they seemed to get along just fine... even more than just fine, if you get my drift.

They always seemed to gossip in the interviews and press conferences, and to be honest, they were fairly touchy feely to each other.

But the year I feel they were the closest, and I can't say if they had something bigger than a friendship because of course we cannot know that, but they were close for sure, maybe good friends, was 2015... oh, 2015...

They shared a few podiums, and they were so smiley and touchy, like in Russia:

Or... the thing that BROKE US back then (and still, honestly), México 2015 Grand Prix... a video of Lewis being a DJ in a club, with Checo next to him.... I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, alrighty?

Happy and relaxed (and Checo was drunk as a skunk. Lewis apparently doesn't drink, or he does not drink excessively, that's why he made a non-alcoholic tequila, a sacrilege for me, as mexican) (also, I must admit that Checo parties hard, making him super idiotic and sleazy. I mean, I love the man, but he has his flaws). Anyways, here's the video if you want to check it out:

Sorry anon, I didn't find it on youtube.

So, naturally, all the fangirls (I'm a girl, BTW, too old for this DTS croud) were making crazy stories about a bromance-romance, that increased because we remembered this tweet:

Roscoe is Lewis' pet, so adorable and famous like his dad. He jumped into Checo's car, and Checo took this picture and tagged Lewis. Something usual between them, tagging each other with things. So as other fans had pointed out, not only Roscoe knew Checo and his car, but felt comfortable enough to jump into it and chill there.

Also, in a team dynamic with Max, Checo remembered the tweet and clarified that Roscoe doesn't travel that far when Max suggested the picture was taken in Australia, and also knows that Roscoe is vegetarian.

This was the moment when we felt like this:

We thought they were going to be the BFF of the F1, they seemed to be chillin' outside the grid and they seemed closer... but then... brocedes happened.

Nico Rosberg and Lewis Hamilton were besties, we all know that (therefore the ship/frienship name). When they became teammates at Mercedes... oh boy, things got ugly. I believe that their friendship being in decline was something that influenced the closeness between Checo and Lewis, but that's just my opinion.

2016 was the year that decided everything. Lewis focused all his energy in beating Britney (sorry, I had to use that nickname at least once, I know Nico hated it, but I couldn't resist), and his friendship/whatever else was going on with Checo faded away.

Nico won the championship (but honestly, it was brutal, it destroyed their friendship), and he retired, and Lewis seemed to regain balance and focus again. But it was never the same with Checo, and if we hoped for something to revive, 2021 ended those dreams, when Checo was brought to RedBull to help Max win the championship, and that meant blocking Lewis path as long as he could. I don't want to enter to the whole 'Lewis was robbed' discussion, but it was a riot.

Additionally, on a side note, Checo also had a good relationship with Nico Rosberg, so it was like he was in the middle of their breakup.

Still, they seem friendly nowadays, Checo keeps making small talk with Lewis, and honestly, and I clarify, IN MY OPINION, Lewis always looks very fond of Checo, and he smiles differently with him. Again, in my delusional opinion.

Like for example:

So, in conclussion anon, even when they WERE close back then, now they seem friendly and fine with each other. When they get together in the interviews, they always gossip and smile, and Canada 2024 gave us little Chewis crumbs (this was the ship name, until Charles Leclerc joined the party and now is also the name of the Charles/Lewis pairing).

Phewww, sorry anon, I know you didn't expected this rambling, but I hope you made it this far and I could answer your question.

And I'm glad to see more Checo fans around here, I was feeling like this all the time.

Oh, and please, pleaseeeee, consider this my take on things, my opinion and fangirl delusions, if you don't agree and you think I'm crazy, that's fair, but no need to be nasty about it or call me names.

Who wants me to ramble about Checo/Nico next? O Checo/Esteban? Ohhh, that would be wild!

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 19

Summary: While in Goodneighbor, you find out that Cooper was a famous actor before the war, and ask him to tell you about some of his favorite ones. Much to the amusement to you and Hancock.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader , John Hancock x Female Reader

Warnings! Drinking and Drug Use. Movie references. Fluff and Domestic Fun.

Masterlist

The three of you are drunk as a skunk, high as a kite, and having the time of your life in the old state house that John calls home. You sit curled against the mayor, watching Cooper, who, in his delightful mood, had decided to regale the two of you with movie quotes and scenes that he'd done back before the war. It had started after he'd made a comment about being a better actor than the one they'd been watched on the fuzzy TV screen.

You had laughed and demanded that the ghoul show you a scene or two from the movies that he'd stared in.

Cooper stands across the living room table, a crocodile grin on his face as he quotes one of his films, his accent thick with a southern draw, "You ain't never heard of Wellenbeck prisoner of war camp, West Virginia?"

You shake your head, playing along with the ex-actor, and John snickers beside you, his laugh smokey and rough from the hit of jet he'd just had. Cooper continues, strutting around the room as he tells his story.

"Oh, Major Marquis did more than bust out. Major Marquis had a bright idea. So bright you hafta' wonder why nobody never thought about it before."

He skips over the other dialog, unable to remember half of the other men's lines, and continues. He gives you and John a look under the brim of his hat, "There was a rookie regiment spendin' the overnight in the camp. Forty-seven men... burnt to a crisp. Southern youth, farmers' sons, cream of the crop."

You gasp dramaticly, eyes wide as you clutch your imaginary pearls. Coop had told you a bit about the movie, set sometime just after the first Civil War back in 1877. You wish you could have seen Cooper back then, but this was just as good. The bounty hunter sets the scene, a small pit stop way up in the mountains.

He suddenly switches up, expression becoming a bit feral at the edges as he gives you and John a mean grin. He explains that Major Marquis has them all lined up against the wall after two men died from poisoned coffee. His voice is sarcastic, disbelief coloring it.

"So you finally decided I'm tellin' the truth 'bout bein' the sheriff of Red Rock, huh?"

He steps away from the wall, turning dramatically and stalking forward, hand under his chin as if he is pulling his thoughts together, "John Ruth was one mighty mighty bastard. But the last thing that bastard did before he died was save my goddamn life."

Cooper pauses and points at you, "You didn't. You were sitting there all quiet like when I poured that cup."

He spins on his heel, his duster flapping and his spurs jingling as he paces the room, "Both of you. Just watching me, waiting, waiting for me to drink myself to death. So what was the plan, Joe Cage? I drink the coffee, OB drinks the coffee, and John Ruth drinks the coffee? And you two sit around and laugh while we roll around on the ground, holding our bellies, screaming in pain?"

You and John are hooked after the speech, eyes wide as the two of you watch Cooper stomp across the room, grab a chipped coffee mug, and stalk over to them. You jump when he slams the cup in front of John, a nasty smile on his face.

Cooper pulls out all the stops, reaching for his side arm and aiming it at John, who looks more than a little nervous at having the hand canon pointed at him. The ex-actor mimes pulling back the hammer and then swings the barrel of his gun at the coffee cup, a snarl on his lips as he glares down at you and Hancock.

"Drink it."

Cooper keeps the scene going for several long seconds before breaking character and stepping back, shoving his side arm back in his holster and spreading his arms, a grin on his face, "Well?"

You burst into laughter and clap, snickering at the look of relief on John's face and the self-satisfied one on Cooper’s. The ghoul across from you bows before loping over to the couch and plopping down between you and John. He sits back and lights up a cigarette, smug as can be.

"Told ya, I still had it."

Ps. I own nothing here.

[mrsjellymunson]

Hey, Boss

A prequel to Hello, Stranger

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jim Hopper, Raymond ‘Red’ Reddington, Mr Kaplan, Dembe Zuma

Pairing: None until the next part (where it becomes Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

AU: Stranger Things AU with elements of The Blacklist

Summary: Eddie falls into a new line of work…

WC: ~3.9k

CW: 18+ MDNI. This miniseries is SFW, depending on your tolerance for dark/violent themes, but most of my blog is 18+ so minors please be aware of this and DNI. Dark humour, black comedy. Allusions to drug use, alcohol consumption, violence, crime and murder. Weapons, bodies and death are discussed. No smut, no reader in this part. This is a Stranger Things AU, the upside down is very briefly alluded to but Eddie doesn’t know about it. No time period mentioned, so if events or technology don’t track that’s why that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. The characters don’t know each other like they do in ST.

A/N: This is the prequel to ‘Hello, Stranger’. The two parts can be read in either order. As in the original part, there are some Easter eggs in here, this time from The Blacklist (obvs), Stargate, and a deliciously niche one from John Wick. Let me know if you spot any!

A/N additional: I would never have believed that I’d be revisiting this story a year after publishing it to add a fun little prologue, but here we are! 😃 The original part was written for a Halloween prompt event last year and was the first lengthy thing I’d shared; I was SO ridiculously nervous about posting it, you have no idea 🫣 Reading it again now, would I change things in the original? Yes. But mainly things like punctuation and formatting, because I think over the last year my writing has become clearer, so I’m kinda pleased that I’d leave the story exactly how it is. For anyone discovering this for the first time, I hope you enjoy!! Please let me know with a comment/reblog/feral spewings in my inbox, I’d love it, srsly 😉🖤

I have an Easter egg reveal post planned for this miniseries, if you’d like to hear about it just ask to be added to my general taglist where you can get notified about all my writing posts ☺️🖤

My masterlist

It’s a chilly October night, close to Halloween, and Eddie’s blasted out of his mind. Gareth got hold of some super strong skunk from a cousin who was visiting from out of state, and that combined with a few cool beers has left him even more buzzed than usual.

Forgoing his van on the insistence of his friends, and wanting to get home to the relative warmth of the trailer sooner rather than later, he’s decided to take a shortcut across Merrill Wright’s fields.

High as all hell, he's staggering as he navigates the pumpkins, managing to avoid most of the obvious orange orbs but forgetting that their tendrils need looking out for too.

He’s already tripped a couple of times, and curses out the vines for both being invisible at night and clearly conspiring with each other to sabotage his journey home. He swears that at least twice he’s seen them move...

Pushing through a thin layer of trees separating one field from the next, he stumbles forwards as an impeding branch snaps and gives way. Moving too quickly to stop himself, he totters forwards, hoping to regain his balance once he’s free of the spindly foliage.

But surprisingly, his feet fail to connect with anything at all, the ground disappears, and Eddie falls face first into… nothing.

Though it doesn’t remain nothing for long, swiftly becoming the harsh smack of hard, and very cold, dirt against his knees, torso and face.

Shocked, confused and more than a little winded, Eddie grunts and rolls onto his side, groaning. 

“Oooooohhhhhh fuuuuuuuckk…. What the hell—?”

He spits out a few clods of mud, and possibly part of a worm (sorry, dude), and tries to work out what just happened.

His hair has fallen over his face, and he pushes the waves, now bedecked with a sprinkling of leaves and soil, out of his eyes and looks upwards. 

Instead of the expected expanse of the clear night sky, perhaps even a few constellations if he cared to look carefully, his vision seems to have tunnelled, a significant proportion of it now a deep black. 

Sitting upright, he briefly wonders whether he’s concussed, or worse, but then the sound of someone speaking garners his undivided attention.

A light, high voice cuts through the night. 

“Hey, do you hear something?”

Eddie freezes, eyes wide. He’s not sure whether he’s comforted or more freaked out to discover he’s not the only one in this field at this time of night. This dark, isolated, middle-of-nowhere, nobody-within-screaming-distance field.

Another voice, deeper than the first, replies, 

“Like what?”

“I dunno, a grunt maybe?”

“A grunt? Uhh, no.”

“Why am I asking you anyway? Your ears are shot after one too many sportsball encounters…”

“Hey, shut up.”

Eddie hears some shuffling and a chortle, like two people jostling each other, before the deeper voice speaks again, but it’s in no way comforting.

“Uh, this guy’s definitely dead, right?”

There’s a noise that sounds like thick plastic being prodded with something.

“Yeah, yeah, this guy definitely. But I’m sure I heard something from over there.”

“Are you trying to spook me? You know how much I hate Halloween.”

Eddie hears an overly dramatic brrr and the rustling of clothing, and he imagines the guy shivering, like he’s shaking off a covering of non-existent snow.

Eddie, terrified but with a new sense of urgency, and eyes adjusting to the new level of darkness, glances more fully around his environment, figuring out that he’s definitely below ground level and in some kind of a hole. He spreads his arms wide, moving them around, and notices he can feel the edges on two sides, but not all four, meaning it’s a long hole. Long enough for him to lay down in. A hole, long enough to fit a human being in, but not much else. Okay, so… 

Wait, this is a fucking grave! Fuck, he’s in a goddamn motherfucking grave!!

Eddie stands, wobbling a little, and notices his eyeline is still below ground level. He reaches up, grabbing at the soil at the edge of the hole, but it’s dry and loose and crumbles in his hands. He tries to jump, grabbing at anything he can find on the ground, but to no avail. It’s tilled earth and there are no branches or roots, not even grass, that he can grab to pull himself out. He mentally takes back everything he said about pumpkin vines…

Suddenly he hears a dull thud, the sound of dragging, muttering, and two people grunting. 

Shit, they’re getting closer. And now there’s a large package wrapped in blue plastic at the edge of the hole, and they’ve just dropped two shovels, and—

Feigning nonchalance, Eddie leans a muddy shoulder against the raw earth, one hand on his hip and the other swiping through his hair as two faces, backlit by moonlight, hove into view. His voice cracks with,

“Hee-eeey guys, how’s it goin’?”

What the hell?? He’s literally standing in an open grave, that these two have probably just dug, and that’s the best he can come up with?

The figures regard Eddie, then turn to each other, then look back at Eddie. They both frown and in unison cock their heads sideways in the same direction, and Eddie, stoned and in shock as he is, has to suppress a giggle. 

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Damn you, Gareth’s cousin!

One of the figures, the slighter of the two, gestures into the hole with a muddy, gloved hand, asking, 

“Is he one of yours?”

The other guy looks both startled and mildly offended.

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there was that one time where you, y’know, missed the mark, and we had to spend an hour chasing the guy before we put him down.”

The taller of the two flaps his arms exasperatedly, trying to point an index finger in the air but failing, the heavy duty gloves he’s wearing making him look more like he’s holding up a fist.

“One time! The one time I miss a goddamn artery and you’ve never let me live it down. Jeez man, gimme a goddamn break!”

“Okay, okay, I’m just sayin’”

“Well don’t! I don’t appreciate it when you criticise my abilities and undermine my self esteem.”

The slimmer figure speaks again, resting the knuckles of one gloved hand against their waist.

“Did your therapist tell you to say that?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. She’s helping me process my intergenerational trauma and internalised lack of self-worth.” 

The tall figure says the words like he’s reciting from a book, but he says them with conviction. Eddie briefly wonders whether he should ask the guy for the title. He finishes with, 

“Anyway, I don’t know who the fuck this asshole is.”

Hands now on his hips, he turns his attention back to Eddie, who, whilst they’d been talking, had been surreptitiously clawing at the back edge of the hole, trying desperately to lever himself out.

The figure with the higher voice turns to their compatriot, and with a somewhat sardonic tone to their voice remarks,

“Well, I suppose we’d better try and find out who this asshole is, and where he came from, huh?”

They lean forwards into the hole and brace themselves with their hands against their knees.

The skinnier figure begins the interrogation with,

“Did Andrea send you? Was it Annie?”

The taller guy continues,

“Wait, was it Red? Cuz if it was Red you can tell him it’s not fuckin’ funny…”

Eddie stammers,

“N-n-o, man, no. I don’t know who any of those people are. I’m, uh, I’m nobody, literally! I was just stoned, and walkin’ home and I, uh, just kinda, fell into this… whatever this delightful arrangement is.”

He gestures around him, attempting to convey that he neither knows, nor cares, exactly what this is.

Tall guy regards him down his nose.

“So, if nobody sent you, then nobody knows you’re here. But now you know we’re here. And I’m guessing that you’re guessing what we’re about to do here. So, I’m guessing the best thing all the way around is if you, y’know, stay here…”

Eddie, in his inebriated state, didn’t completely follow what this guy just said, but when the guy reaches behind him into his belt, and Eddie hears the unmistakable metallic clink of a gun being retrieved, he gets the message pretty damn quickly. 

The shovels, the ‘package’, the gun… oh god!

“Nonononono! Waitwaitwait!!”

He extends his arms and frantically waves his filthy hands in front of him in supplication. 

Think, Eddie, think!! What would you encourage the sheep to do in such an impossible campaign situation? Thiiiiiiink!

The guy levels the gun at Eddie’s head. He still can’t see their faces clearly, but he can most certainly make out the end of the barrel as it glints in the moonlight.

Eddie scrunches his eyes up tight, grimacing, every muscle in his body tensing in expectation of the horror to come.

Abruptly, his mind fills with the most bizarre and inspired creative idea that he thinks he’s ever had.

Fuck, that weed really was strong… Thank you, Gareth’s cousin!

“What if I told you I could help make your job easier? Maybe more enjoyable? Or, at the very least, more interesting?”

He sees the barrel of the gun lower ever so slightly. 

Oh good, now it’s not aimed at his head. Just at his chest. Progress?

He presses on.

“Your bosses want you to make people disappear, right? Boring, efficient, sure. But not that interesting. Probably doesn’t pay all that well either, huh?”

The two figures look at each other again, frowning, and Eddie’s pretty sure they're deciding whether they should let the guy in the hole keep talking, or just shut him up for good, drop the other package in and cover them both over.

“How about we give ‘em a little something extra first? Like a show? A demonstration. An exhibition, if you will.”

Eddie’s got into his stride now, and is walking up and down the length of the six foot hole waving his arms in wide arcs, as if he’s delivering one of his lunchtime diatribes on a canteen table.

“Say there’s some guy who’s been messin’ with your patch. Goods are goin’ missing, or his funds are coming up short. Sure, you could just pop a cap in him and stick him in the ground,” 

He glances nervously at the tarp-wrapped bundle, 

“But wouldn’t it be more satisfying to really teach him a lesson. Bury him at the four corners of the state? Spray him all over this field? Dissolve him ‘til there’s nothing left? Now that really sends a message, don’tcha think? Plus, it’d sure be entertaining for your bosses to watch. Must get pretty boring for them. Y’know, pop a guy, wrap a guy, pop a guy, wrap a guy…”

He regards the two heavies carefully, trying to judge whether he’s made any impression on them whatsoever. They’re looking at each other and then back at Eddie.

Eventually the bigger figure speaks.

“Whaddaya think, Rob? Shall we take him back to talk to—“

“Fuckssake Steve, don’t tell him my name! Ah, fuck, Jeez…”

Sighing, the figure turns back towards Eddie.

“Yeah, okay, if this is as revelatory as you say it is, then fine. But it better be. Don’t make us come back out here for a second time tonight.”

Eddie takes this threat very, very seriously. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear.”

The figure pauses for a moment, contemplative, before puffing out a long breath from between their lips.

“Well, for a start you can help us finish up with this guy. Steve, get him out of that hole and pass him my shovel...”

Eddie’s only thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not right now…

———

An hour later, freezing, muddy, exhausted, still terrified and, incongruously, still a little stoned, Eddie walks between Rob and Steve back to their vehicle, an SUV that he notices has “Buckley & Harrington, Landscaping Services & Specialised Waste Disposal” emblazoned on the side. 

‘Specialised waste disposal’ indeed… 

They bundle Eddie into the back, Rob grousing the whole way, and make him lie under yet another blue tarp so he can’t see where they’re going. He doesn’t much like being on this side of the plastic, and dearly hopes it’s the only time he has to experience it.

After some time, and a number of bruises acquired from sliding around the truck bed, the truck stops and the two figures start to bundle Eddie out of the back.

Still partially under the tarp, Eddie sees the lower half of a large, heavy set man in military fatigues and combat boots join them outside. Still shaken from the evening’s events and disoriented from the uncomfortable journey, Eddie can’t quite make out their entire conversation. He does hear what the hell and let me explain, plus a lot of grumbling in what could be a West African accent.

Finally freed from the tarp, Eddie is grabbed by the shoulders from behind by a pair of very strong hands, dragged off the truck bed and shoved, stumbling, forwards.

The three figures walk him into an old warehouse, the huge shutters open to the night and the entire place brightly lit and remarkably active given the hour. It’s crammed with pallets, shelves, crates, people and machinery. There are forklifts lifting things in and out of trucks and people carrying paperwork and speaking on phones. Many seem to have ominous-looking bulges in their waistbands and jackets that Eddie really doesn’t want to become any more closely acquainted with.

A large man is barking orders and holding a mug that says coffee and contemplation on the side, but judging by the subtle wince that happens each time he takes a swig, Eddie suspects it contains something stronger than his favourite Java. His voice is gruff, and to his great surprise, Eddie recognises it. 

“Uh, Hopper, is that you?”

The man turns, frowning at first, but as he clocks Eddie his free hand flaps dejectedly at his side and his eyes roll up into his skull. 

“Oh Jeez. What the hell is he doing here? What have you two idiots done now?”

Eddie's new acquaintances look sheepishly at each other. The one named Rob ventures,

“Uh, he has a proposal for Red, something about a novel business idea?”

“Goddamnit, I know this guy! And now, thanks to you two bozos, he knows me too!”

Steve interjects this time,

“Just give him five minutes with Mr Kaplan, boss! Honestly, I think Red’s gonna love this.”

Hopper doesn’t look convinced, but he grabs a guy with a clipboard as he scurries past and asks him to find whoever Mr Kaplan is. Eddie doesn’t like the sound of this. The dude sounds pretty scary.

After no more than a minute, a small, tweed-clad lady appears. She’s older than everyone here, and her face is pinched, but somehow also looks kind. Eddie imagines she’d look far more at home in a library than… whateverthisis. He wonders if she’s Mr Kaplan’s secretary, or something.

“Come on then you two, spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

The two stammer and splutter their way through an explanation, trying to justify why they not only spared this guy, but also brought him back to their base of operations. Eddie finally comprehends that this is Mr Kaplan. He doesn’t know whether to be relieved, or even more terrified.

At various points Mr Kaplan sucks in her cheeks, tilts her head and folds her arms, reminding Eddie of every disapproving teacher he ever had, and more than once he considers how far he might get if he hightailed it through those large doors and made off into the night. But then he remembers how he got here, who he’s with, the amount of hardware everyone appears to be carrying, how often he skipped PT at school, how much he’s smoked this evening (not to mention over the last however many years), and, not least, the fact that he has less than no clue about where he actually is. 

Finally, the two cronies stop talking, and Mr Kaplan’s focus turns entirely to Eddie. Despite being significantly taller than she is, he feels about two feet high under her gaze, and that this moment could be about to define his future, his fate.

“Well, dearie, it’s certainly a unique proposition. And one I’m intrigued to see if you can pull off. But ultimately, it’s not my decision. All I can do is get you a meeting with Red, and then you’re on your own.”

Steve seems thrilled by this outcome, his eyes wide and a grin on his lips. He shifts in place excitedly and jovially taps his elbow against Eddie’s upper arm. Eddie side-eyes him, guessing the guy is pleased that he isn’t going to suffer any repercussions for going ‘off script’ by bringing Eddie here like this, but he does wonder what on earth makes him think they’re ever going to be friends.

Mr Kaplan nods to Hopper, who takes this as his cue and disappears out of sight. Mr Kaplan doesn’t see it, but Eddie notices his weary-looking eye roll.

Eddie finally gets a good look at the guy who ‘helped’ him off the truck and brought him inside. He’s tall, huge, shaven-headed and intimidating. Eddie doesn’t look for long.

After a few minutes, the shaven-headed heavy motions for Eddie to step into a somewhat more private area of the warehouse, sectioned off by some disturbing-looking medical curtains on rusting rails that offer visual, if not much auditory, privacy. Eddie figures the noise of vehicles and machinery elsewhere likely drown out any talking that goes on in here anyway.

There’s a screen set up that’s displaying a fuzzy, low quality image of a man sitting in what appears to be a lavish sitting room. There’s a picture of a landscape, or maybe sky, hanging to his left, and the audio quality is marred by a low rumble. Eventually, Eddie’s brain catches up and he realises it’s not a picture at all but a window, and what Eddie can see is clouds and what he can hear is the roar of an engine - the guy’s on a plane. All he can think is, Jeezus, this guy must be loaded.

As the image comes into better focus the figure looks oddly familiar. Eddie’s vaguely reminded of a sci-fi film he saw that had Kirt Russell in it and something about pyramids, but he brushes it aside, more important things on his mind. 

The man is clad in a fedora and an exquisitely tailored suit, and as Eddie is positioned in front of what he presumes is a camera the figure removes his hat and lifts a crystal tumbler containing a deep brown liquid to his lips.

Hopper fills Eddie in.

“This is Mr Reddington. You can speak when he says you can.”

The well-dressed man speaks first, in a voice that’s even more imposing than that of the tall heavy who brought Eddie in here. 

“I understand you have a business proposition for me, young man. I’d like to hear it directly from you, if I may?”

Eddie thinks quickly, describing possible scenarios that he’s come up with. He reiterates the ideas he had earlier, and adds a few more, getting inspiration from horror movies, comics, and even some of his D&D campaigns.

“That does all sound very interesting. And heaven knows we need some levity in this business. But I do need to confer with my colleagues. Chief, what do you think? Does this kid’s idea have legs?”

Hopper and Red have a moment of eye contact, before Hopper sighs loudly and admits, reluctantly,

“It is kinda novel. And he’s basically a good kid, don’t kill him yet, huh? He can be annoying as fuck, but goddamnit if he goes missing we’d have to do at least some kind of an investigation. The amount of people I’d have to interview, the press… The paperwork alone would be hell…”

He pinches the top of his nose, and Red purses his lips, apparently conceding that Hopper’s time would be much better spent doing whatever it is that he does for him rather than wasting it on unimportant matters such as police work. His expression suddenly brightens, and the formerly imposing figure on the screen turns disconcertingly jovial.

“Well, I think it sounds like fun. I’ll tell you what, we’ll try him out for a couple of months and see how he does.”

Hopper turns to look at Eddie.

“Okay, Munson, we’re gonna give you a try. You’d better keep it interesting though, or so help me…”

He makes a small but unsubtle slicing motion across his neck with his thumb. Eddie takes it at face value, knowing he means it.

Red addresses the whole group now.

“You know, this reminds me of the time I was playing miniature golf in Andalucia with the Sultan of Brunei and Jimmy Hoffer. Richard Pryor walked up and asked if any of us knew anything about llama farming. We all looked at him askance, I mean, do any of us look like we did? But then, to my great surprise and delight, the Sultan said…”

The burly dude holds Eddie around the shoulders again, but more gently than before. At least, Eddie assumes it’s gentle. The guy’s stature suggests significantly more physical ‘prowess’, which Eddie’s grateful he's not been on the receiving end of. He’s steered away from the screen and back towards the main area of the warehouse.

Nervously, just before they leave the curtained off area and afraid this might be seen as an offense, Eddie stammers,

“Where’re we- Shouldn’t I…?”

The man’s deep, caramel voice carries easily to Eddie’s ears, as he remarks,

“Trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end of any more of Raymond’s epic tales than you absolutely have to be. You can thank me later.”

Eddie looks back over his shoulder, just in time to see Chief Hopper’s brow crinkle and raise in what looks to be a poor facsimile of engagement, and he takes another, deep, swig from his coffee mug. He, apparently, knew he was in it for the duration.

They reach the area where Steve and Rob are still standing, apparently playing some kind of thumb war game. The big guy extends a powerful-looking hand towards Eddie, clasping his own in an iron grip. There’s a soft smile on his face as he looks down and says,

“Welcome to the team. I’m Dembe, by the way.”

Mr Kaplan finishes up a conversation she’s having nearby with another pair of guys with clipboards and conspicuous gun holsters, and as she’s making her way out, she remarks to Eddie,

“You’re in luck, you can start tonight. We’re expecting another package, so you can help these two clowns. God knows they need it.”

Steve frowns, and Rob emits a quiet,

“Hey—”

Mr Kaplan continues,

“No need for anything elaborate right now dearie, save that for next time. But we do need some supplies. Dembe, get him some cash from the office.”

Eddie’s conflicted. He’s confused, excited, relieved, and, yep, still a little wasted.

He does have his typical nervousness about how well he’s actually gonna be able to “perform”, and how long he can keep up the interest in what he’s suggested. Following a brief discussion with Steve and Rob, a few crumpled bills are shoved into his overly-sweaty palm.

Of course, his main thought is, great, I’m not gonna die! At least, not tonight… 

But his overriding concern soon becomes:

Where the hell is he going to find rope, duct tape and a shovel at this time of night??

Next part, ‘Hello, Stranger’

My masterlist

I really hope you enjoyed this little prologue! Please reblog and leave comments, your support means everything to writers 🖤🙏

Tagging my ‘everything’ list, ILY @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @in2tswft @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @sassidykassidy @richter-raccoon @1deverland

Also tagging those who commented on/reblogged the first one, just lemme know if you’d rather not be! @bakusquadobsessed @mewchiili @bettyfrommars @pedroschka @transparent-enemy @ali-r3n @fracturedarkness @tinytyphooncloud @alverdekote @elegantkoalapaper @ddaydreamdelusionss @ramona-thorns @vitzi9 @lurkingprincess @cherrysabbath @pullingattheroots

[albertonykus]

The 2018 Doraemon episode "うら山危険生物パーク" ("The Dangerous Creature Park on the Hill") is a fun zoology-themed story. Nobita and his friends create a wildlife park using Doraemon's Real-object Encyclopedia series, but Gian and Suneo accidentally release a bunch of animals from the "Dangerous Creatures" volume, and so the main characters have to spend the rest of the episode trying to recapture all of them.

I like that the production team chose some unconventional "dangerous animals" to highlight. A couple of large mammalian predators show up, as one might expect (the final animal they need to wrangle being a tiger), but the first animal to be unleashed from the book is a hippo.

A Komodo dragon proves to be a challenge to capture. Doraemon notably mentions that it is venomous, instead of repeating the outdated conventional wisdom that Komodo dragons rely on infectious bacteria to bring down prey.

Not all of the animals in the book are deadly to humans. Even so, one wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of a snapping turtle.

A honey badger is featured for its reputation as "the most fearless animal in the world". Its thick skin and ability to prey on venomous snakes are shown, as is its liking for honey.

A cassowary gets a cameo as part of a montage. Although it doesn't happen often, they are among the few birds known to have killed people.

It's also interesting to see an animal that is "dangerous" as a result of having a noxious chemical defense, namely a skunk.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Ready to rec some awesome fics that I read this month!! Feel free to add on with some of your own Bagginshield recs. 😁

April 2024 Rec List

G Rated:

A Dwarven Beauty by bebel_bee (Complete, 4K, 1ch.)- You have to love cultural differences where it comes to the dwarven and hobbit concepts of beauty. Bilbo is getting a bunch of odd comments on his looks that he thinks are derogatory. This is such a fun, quick read with fun misunderstandings and a lovely getting together scene.

Green-Handed by lotus0kid (Complete, 41K, 20ch.)- This was a really fun magical hobbits fic. Under certain conditions, hobbits go "green-handed" which means they can grow anything through touch and that's how Bilbo finds himself one morning. The ending of this fic just gets me with how absolutely enamored Thorin is with Bilbo and his gift.

Ive found Frodo...and he found you? by Lucigoo89 (Complete, 2K, 1ch.)- I need to preface this by saying my house had an entire den of fifteen skunks living under it that we tried to relocate...I absolutely despise skunks. But I gave this a chance for Lucigoo and it was as predicted, completely adorable. Little skunk Frodo wanders off and when Bilbo goes after him, he finds him in a den of badgers, one of whom he knows rather intimately.

T Rated:

Burning Crowns by Morg47 (Complete, 9K, 2ch.)- I read the first chapter when this was just a one-shot craving more and the author didn't disappoint! Infamous thief Bilbo helps the rightful king of Erebor in his assassination attempt of Smaug. I love seeing a confident BAMF Bilbo, and apparently Thorin does too.

Frozen Heart by snowmissus (soul_of_blaze) (WIP, 14K, 5ch.)- This is such a unique AU with a compelling set up. Bilbo has been tasked by Yavanna to try to help Erebor out of its frozen state, and by extension its king. Very fairytale-esque with some great characterizations and interactions, I can't wait for more!

Imbalance by northerntrash (Complete, 10K, 1ch.)- This story genuinely shocked me! In this Hades/Persephone AU, it is Bilbo who is Lord of the Underworld and Thorin who is a plant life god. As cracky as that sounds, it actually legitimately works in this AU as Bilbo and Thorin rely on each other to make themselves better.

There and Not Back Again (or, The Saving of Erebor) by femmbingley (WIP, 178K, 52ch.)- There’s so much to say about this fic. Post-BOTFA dwarven politics where Bilbo has assumed the duties of the consort which makes things more difficult for Dain. I really love the characterizations and I just can’t get enough of this fic!

to feel you like a knife by queerofthedagger (Complete, 23K, 2ch.)- Thorin's POV absolutely shook me at the beginning as he describes seeing his three loved one laid up in cots. After Bilbo saves Thorin's life, he wakes up to find his memories prior to Laketown are gone. It was so well paced and absolutely delicious in angst with a happy ending.

M Rated:

Backs to the Wall by Conkers (WIP, 124K, 24ch.)- I held off on this fic for a long time, not because I was worried I wasn’t going to enjoy it, but because I knew how much it would have me foaming at the mouth. Missing the deadline, the Company splits up at Laketown with Thorin, Dwalin, Nori, and Bilbo remaining to earn some coin. I’m beside myself with the gentle, sweet moments of pre-Bagginshield that have me screaming.

E Rated:

The Burden of Choice by Fantasyinallforms (Complete, 56K, 12ch.)- I went absolutely feral over this fic! Bilbo and Thorin are arranged to marry each other, neither knowing who the other is, and they escape in the night and begin to travel together. There were just so many emotions throughout this fic, it was so well written!

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction (Complete, 254K, 31ch.)- It was time for another read of this wonderful story. Bilbo stays in Erebor to see them through the winter only to find himself in a courtship with the king and a plot to see Thorin off the throne. This is just the ultimate Bilbo remains in Erebor fic and definitely worth the read if you haven't already.

Theft by Erinye (Complete, 124K, 40ch.)- Another epic that I had to reread this month. For his part in the alliance, Thorin demands Bilbo be returned to the mountain to be tried for his crimes in stealing the Arkenstone. Although the deaths of Fili and Kili break my heart in this fic, the rediscovery of Bilbo and Thorin's relationship through sex and comfort makes this a great read.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 56

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Shiro's Skunk Hair Steals Lance's Boyfriend by @bleusarcellewrites

Lance nods, eyes scanning Keith’s face slowly, “I gotta ask, though, do you come here often?” Keith snorts, fondness for this dumbass making his heart to beat faster. “Charming as always, I see.” “I can show you ‘charming’.” Lance says, eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner and while the others groan behind them at the line, Keith just smiles. “But before that, I’m a man of honor and I gotta know: are you single?” Keith blinks at the question and suddenly he's laughing. [Or the one where Lance can't hold his alchohol and Keith gives up a Cuddle Night of his boyfriend to be flirted by said boyfriend just for his boyfriend to forget he was already his boyfriend. It's a mess but Keith wouldn't want it any other way.]

yall remember bleusarcelle...remember 2018.....crazy times. anyway. this fic is fun and sweet and dorky, nice to read when you want to forget how bad vld dropped the ball and ruined everything :))

2. Your Love Keeps Me Warm by crystalklances

Keith is giving him a look, contemplating, eyebrows drawn together. Noticing his gaze, Lance looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Are you cold?” Keith asks after a moment of a silent staring contest. “No,” Lance replies. “You should’ve said something.” “I just said I’m not—” But Keith doesn’t listen. Already, he’s shrugging out of his red varsity jacket, and he leans over to drape it around Lance’s shoulders. ---- Or, 4 times Keith is determined to prevent Lance from getting sick, and the time Lance catches a cold after all.

I MISS CRYSTALKLANCES EVERY DAY, BRO. no one got ridiculously soft modern au keith like he did. fuck. but at least most of his works are still on ao3. i like this one in particularly one because its soft and im a weenie but also because its a 4+1 which is my favourite genre of fic ever actually

3. what makes you beautiful by seventies

MMA fighter Keith Kogane is admitted to the hospital and gets KO'd by blue eyes that rival the seas and a crooked grin that knocks the air out of his lungs. It hasn't even been a minute in the ring. It's a world fucking record.

rare blue eyed lance appreciation moment from me (old bookmark lmfao). but jokes aside i do love this fic. i will always always always every day of my life love whipped on sight keith idc. its so so funny to me. its funnier when lance is like oh! this is my rival. we are going to be ENEMIES FUCK YEAH and keith is like oh my god if i dont marry him right now im literally going to die. also this fic has matt just fyi

4. Lance and Keith's guide for how to cure insomnia by crystalklances

Keith has always had trouble sleeping, but never told anyone. When they fall asleep together after a mission by chance, Lance finds out and offers to share his bed to help Keith fall asleep. However, sleeping together every night has unforeseen side-effects for both of them.

from the iconic INVENTOR of the smitten keith tag. soft klance, in canon. touch starved keith. sharing a bed to stop the nightmares. i bought my ticket on the first word of the summary like

5. love you so bad by seyama [EXPLICIT]

Keith and Lance sneak off from a party to go and fuck. That's it, that's the whole story.

this was bantery and silly and fun. and the little argument over who gets to be the little spoon....shockingly tender and so so them ive read this one a fewww times lol

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[olliedoesthings]

I have a small story for yall!

So my family had a skunk living under our back porch and it has sprayed my house and dogs 3 times over the past week or two. So my dad went out and bought a trap for it. Well, he caught it, and we didn’t know what to do with it because it was too silly to shoot, but we also couldn’t just let it out and let it go back into our porch. So me and my dad made a “release plan” and we went out yesterday morning to release the skunk, who we had named Jim.

So we put towels over the trap with Jim in it so he stayed calm and we put him in another container on the back of the truck so if he sprayed, he wouldn’t spray the truck and make the truck smell like skunk ass. We drove him up to a spot in the mountains that looked like a good place for a skunk, which only took a few minutes. In that amount of time, Jim ripped the towels off his cage by pulling them through the cage and shredding them to bits. Without the towels on the trap, he could see what was happening outside of the cage, and that little guy was staring me and my dad down.

We found a new towel and put it on the trap, but it wasn’t quite big enough and only covered part of it. We took him out of the container and we almost had him put on the ground, and he sprayed us. I thought it wasn’t that bad (it was, I stunk super bad) but my dad got the majority of the spray. So he stunk worse than I did. But we got Jim released and he ran off all happy like and started sniffing trees and whatnot!

But because my dad got sprayed the most, he didn’t want to ride in the truck. So he had me drive alone with him in the back of the truck (I was terrified cause I’ve never driven alone yet). We got back home safely tho! My mom did tell me to get out of the house because I stank like skunk ass tho.

Here’s Jim the skunk!

Yay skunk adventures! Sorry for the extreme yapping, I thought this story would be fun to share. :D

[skaruresonic]

Being a Cream fan is suffering. The writers aren't hiding that they don't like her. Hello Advanced 2 anyone???

I can imagine.

She's milked for both humor and angst. In most cases, the fact that it's Cream specifically who is suffering/the butt of the joke is the intended takeaway behind the humor or angst.

People try to rationalize such moments as "she's just a child," forgetting that Cream is also her own person and has a personality beyond the expected behavior of children her age. Shunting her into the box of Child(tm) and leaving it at that is like reducing Amy to Girl(tm). Or Shadow to his Black Arms blood. You're not wrong to say those elements factor in, per se, but you are being overreductive by focusing only on those isolated elements of their characters when they're not overall terribly important.

Apologies for the self-indulgence here, but before we proceed to talk about IDW 66 and 67's B-side story, I'd like to bring up Cream's chapter in my visual novel as a counterexample:

In a nutshell: OaS is a slice-of-life where Sonic goes about a normal Sunday, visiting his friends and helping them through their problems, alongside some funny shenanigans. He spends about half the game spending time with Knuckles, Amy, and Cream, respectively.

Chapter three sees his relationship with Cream evolve from friends to Big Bro-Lil Sis(tm) as he endeavors to look out for her the best he can and listen to her little kid problems. Math is hard. :<

You'll notice in the conversation Sonic and Cream have after they sit down to eat their carnival food - about halfway through the video - that "lol Cream's just a dumb kid" is the exact attitude I was trying to avoid.

On the contrary: I wanted to respect her agency while also emphasizing that her status as a child is something worth respect on its own. Just because her problems may seem trivial from an adult perspective don't mean they aren't real to her, and I hope I've portrayed it so that Sonic gives her the respect she deserves.

The gist behind the chapter's more humorous moments isn't to point and laugh at Cream, but rather make light of the awkwardness of Sonic navigating being a big brother figure.

That's why stuff like Cream spouting waterfalls really rubs me the wrong way. Folks will argue "she's a child" while neglecting the important nuance that it's not typical of Cream to wail like a toddler in the games... As well as the other important nuance that if it had been Games!Cream in IDW!Cream's place, Rough and Tumble would be ground into paste before the roast finished.

The only punchline here is "Isn't it funny how Cream tried so hard to do right by her mother and some bully destroyed her work in an instant? LOL and then Vanilla went mama bear on them." When you drill down to the core of the underlying idea, you'll find it's just... meanspirited. The book is making fun of the fact that Cream is suffering what is, in her eyes, a humiliating failure.

It's not humor generated by Cream's personality, or the mood whiplash incurred by beating up bad guys one moment and tending to the roast the next, or inviting the bad guys to dinner after giving them a thorough ass-whooping, or anything like that.

How much better would it have been if, instead, following the food fight, we cut to Vanilla returning home to find an immaculate dinner table and two very twitchy skunk boys playing maid in fear of the goddess of destruction's wrath? Cream cheerily greets her mother while Rough and Tumble trip over themselves putting Vanilla's groceries away. Meanwhile Cheese and Chocola give them the evil eye. Vanilla is confused as G-merl pulls out her chair for her, but in no position to protest.

Imagine how amusing that could have been! Nope. The book has to point and laugh at Cream in a "ha ha bitch you thought" kind of way. Can't join in on the laugh track if we have any love for Cream ourselves.

To borrow the stans' logic, it's actually pretty fucked-up that you're meant to laugh at a child for crying in such a situation. At best, you're made to feel sorry for her, but given how the scene is framed to be absurd, it's probably a safer bet to say you're intended to laugh.

That's before we remember Cream doesn't sob buckets in the games. It took being kidnapped, taken to Eggman's creepy robot depot and watching Emerl gleefully tear Phi robots apart for her to sniffle quietly.

Sniffle. Not wail like a toddler. Because the games have this thing called "a sense of decorum," you see. xP

People contend that Cream's a pacifist based on her refusal to engage in Battle until Emerl gets hurt (and then they conveniently ignore how she stepped up and kicked some ass; rip), which overlooks the context that she was probably sick of fighting after having been forced to spar against Emerl and Amy to the point of exhaustion.

---

P.S. IDW!Vanilla wishes she was half as scary as OaS!Vanilla. Yeah, I said it xP

[lightofraye]

I just...

I need a minute.

Ahem.

Okay.

Soooo..... anon. We need to talk.

First off, Danneel was beautiful once upon a time. Then she wrecked her face with repeatedly badly done plastic surgery. She now has what plastic surgeons refer to the "Joker" smile. It's not a good look, at all. Plus she's wrecked her hairline with repeated facelifts that she didn't need!

Loving person? Nooooo. Oh my gods, no. Have you even heard half the stuff she's said about Jensen? I know people like to translate what she's said as "joking" or "just plain fun" but y'know what? I haven't heard her say anything genuine about him. Ever.

The only charity I'm aware of that she supposedly supported was birthdays for homeless children. You wanna know what those kids would really want? HOMES. A birthday celebration is a few hour event. A home is a lifetime!

Happily married? Have you been paying attention to the photo ops in the last few years with Jensen? Stiff as a board, zero chemistry, death glares from Jensen, tons of space between them. Heck, not even just the last few years--try the last decade.

Jensen didn't even want to marry her! He had to be talked into it, high as a kite and drunk as a skunk!

She gave up her career? What career?! Let's be honest, sure, there was One Tree Hill. That was it. All the other stuff were minor roles and failed attempts. Her role in Supernatural was via nepotism! She didn't earn it like Genevieve did. Not to mention, quite a few actors she worked with stated she was hell to work with. She was snobby, demanding, and acted like she knew better than them.

As for empire? What empire?! No seriously, what empire?! Chaos Machine Production had precisely one production--and it bombed, badly. (The Winchesters.) And so far, there's been nothing else. Oh, just stories from Jensen but literally nothing else! Family Business Beer Company shuttered their doors for their only in-room tap and even before that, they were floundering, being open only 3 days a week. They found it cheaper to be closed than open!

The only income right now has been from conventions, and lately, well, Jensen hasn't exactly been behaving as the best of men. (God, that killed me to say.) He's grumpy a lot of the times, not giving his all in photo ops, as is evident by his lack of expressions in quite a few photos. It's his job and he's not giving it all that he should be. Look at Jared, for cryin' out loud!

So.

No.

Danneel is none of those.

She never was.

[btr-rewatch]

BTR REWATCH MINI POST

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 15: “Big Time Sparks”

I'm not doing a full write-up of this episode on account of it's actually one of my least favorite ones. But I did still watch it, so here's a collection of some scattered thoughts I had.

• Lavender looks so nice on Logan! I feel like as the show goes on, he wears so much blue, gray, and black. Early series Logan is a little more laid back clothing-wise.

• Listen. I know the constant misunderstandings between Jo and Kendall are necessary to the plot. I get that. But from an in-universe standpoint, it's completely ridiculous that neither he nor Jordin attempt to explain what's actually going on. Kendall stands there holding Jordin in his arms for over 20 seconds, and all he can say is, "Jo, this isn't what it looks like." Meanwhile, Jordin just looks back and forth between Kendall and Jo. Um. Hello?? Just explain what happened! Show Jo the banana peel!

Same with the "girly, romantic picnic" mishap. Neither of them even TRY to explain. There are MULTIPLE WITNESSES who can vouch for Kendall's story of saving Jordin from a cat attack, but he just sits there like an absolute doofus and goes, "It's not what it looks like!"

Kendall doesn't have the brain cell in this episode, that's for sure. So, who does? It ain't Carlos or Logan. It 100% is not James. There is a braincell just floating around somewhere while four boys with empty heads run around.

• The guys tend to speak in unison a good deal in general, but it is through the roof in this episode! I feel like they speak half their dialogue together. Maybe I'll watch the episode again and count because it really is very noticeable.

• The sped-up music that plays when James is hurriedly searching for a four-leaf clover cracks me up. Someone get James some help; the boy is unraveling.

• Speaking of James, I can't stand his hair in season 1!!! Doesn't he have sort of naturally wavy hair? I remember seeing pictures of him from pre-btr, and there's a definite wave to it when it's longer.

okay, yeah, I just did some googling and

He does NOT have naturally straight hair. Why did they straighten it?? It just looks dry.

• Kelly and Gustavo are also braincell-less in this episode, which is interesting, since Kelly usually possesses it. Their skunk plotline is pretty funny, though. Gustavo using the fake puppet in the remote control car and delivering his line about the real skunk thinking "they're going to a dance club or to Makeout Point" always kills me.

• Also, "We catch stuff all the time in Minnesota." ???? Why, Kendall? What are you catching? Is it for fun, or are you frequently having to trap animals causing mischief?

• Every single one of them would be dead from falling into that well. RIP to all of Big Time Rush plus Jordin Sparks.

[termiteterraceclub]

Pepé & Penelope Week (Feb. 8-14, 2025) PROMPT SELECTION

Épouse-moi? His odor is gone, Penelope has popped the question. Pepé Le Pew is getting married to Penelope Pussycat!? Wouldn't that be a great way to rewrite their dynamic? Now you can as TTC is introducing and hosting "Pepé & Penelope Week" on February 8th-14th, 2025. It's about time! Right on schedule for Valentine's Day.

In honor of Pepé Le Pew and Penelope Pussycat's 75th anniversary, as well as their respective milestone birthdays, we are hosting a special prompt week. The famous skunk is turning 80 on January 6th, 2025 while Penelope celebrated her 75th birthday on November 12th, 2024.

From now until December 13th, you can submit your prompt ideas here. We're going to let you vote and we'll decide the top 7 as Pepé & Penelope Week begins on February 8th, 2025 until Valentine's Day.

This year's theme will highlight their long romantic journey from first meeting to the day they are getting married. You can fill in the gaps by writing your own take on Pepé and Penelope while still keeping the chaotic and fun spirit of the Looney Tunes iconography and style.

Submit your prompt ideas here. Remember, the deadline is December 13th. Whatever is submitted can qualify in prompt voting. We'll ask for your prompt ideas on IG Stories every Tuesday and Thursday as we should have Pepé and Penny's big day planned for Valentine's Day 2025 (and plenty of fan excitement could motivate someone at Warner Bros. to reboot their dynamic for modern times and modern sensibilities. While their game of lover's chase will stay, maybe some of the rules will be altered.

Parts of the #LooneyTunes fandom shared the idea of Pepé and Penelope getting married. We want to bring it to life in honor of their anniversary with your own craft and passion.

Art by @awinger24

[flowerslut]

I don't know about you but I've always hated the trope of vampires being addicted to blood like it was drugs. That's like saying that a human can be addicted to regular water if they drink too much so they have to filter it or something to change it. I don't know, I just don't understand why they would be 'addicted' to the very thing they need to survive? It makes me think of the quote from Mad Max; Fury Road "Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence!" In saying that, I do find it very funny that Jasper can be addicted to certain emotions, like how he was following Bella around the house and reluctantly leaving rooms she was in when she came to visit because he was getting 'high' off her good mood and Edward was so bemused to see him in that state because he's typically sounded by moody bitches who always argue and complain so he's not used to someone (other than Alice but I think he's used to her now, whereas Bella would be a bit like a slap in the face I think) being so genuinely happy that he follows her around like pepe lepew and skunk stink. I read a fic once about Jasper/Alice and Emmett/Rosalie going to college and meeting there and joining frats and they were around a bunch of drunk college kids and Jasper was ALSO starting to act a little drunk and loose and silly because SO MANY DRUNK KIDS all in the same space together was starting to affect him too. I don't know. I've just been thinking about it

I've never really thought twice about the whole "blood thirst as an allegory for addiction/human vices" because that's always been tied together really well with most vampire stories. I sort of expect that measure of symbolism from vampire media now, and tbh you'd really have to do some heavy, intense worldbuilding to make a vampire universe where bloodlust isn't akin to sex or addiction or some sort of taboo in order to make it still have the correct ~vibes~ (not that it's impossible, but I think the struggle to having to resist, or not resist, is honestly part of the lure for some people.)

and I know what you're trying to do with the "humans can't be addicted to water" thing but if water could only be obtained through killing other people (which, ahem, *gestures to history books*) then people sure would be snapping necks to get it, aaand that makes for an interesting story! I think it (obsession with blood being used as an allegory for drug addiction) can lead to some really interesting story dynamics and plot conflict!!

"I just don't understand why they would be 'addicted' to the very thing they need to survive?" because it's interesting! what do you do when you have to kill to survive, even if it goes against everything you've ever been taught? i love it. 10/10. bring on the pain game. I want to see the hoops people will jump through to moralize their choices!!!! its fun dude!!!!! 🤩

it is cute that jasper's drawn to happy emotions but the way that stephenie implements it makes me roll my eyes half of the time. especially when edward is like "wow bella, jasper loves being around because your emotions are soooo nice and pure and good and addicting because our love is so #Strong! 😌" like, yawwwwn. talk about an informed trait. sorry steph I will never care about edbella 😔 and also, like, reading twilight from bella's pov we... really don't get the proof of her being such a happy person. homegirl has self-esteem issues out the ass so color me skeptical that her emotions were really that alluring 🙄

but it does lead to fun opportunities for headcanons whenever people ask "so...alice just walked up to jasper and he just? went with it?" because if all it takes is a bitch with a good mood to have this war criminal trailing behind them then jasper never stood a chance at being an independent entity. he would've been simping for the first person who didn't feel revulsion toward him. I guess we should be happy it was alice that scooped him up and not someone less cool and hot and fun

but yes! i love the opportunity for jasper's gift to really mess with him and its SO fun to play around with it in fic!!!! breaking dawn doesn't have a lot that I love but if does have some fun "jasper having to feel some nonsense" moments