#have you guys just not encountered liars in your lives???

[soupwife]

there is a major part missing from this discussion about whether or not we owe our walking around money to the various gofundmes and paypals and cash apps that float around on this website every day. and that is that people LIE. people lie all the time. It is easy and free to come on here and say, I'm broke and marginalized and you should give money. My baseline is that I don't believe anyone and I frankly don't understand why some of you guys are so trusting. There are ways to give to mutual aid that do not involve tossing $5 to every random tumblr user who says they're late on their electric bill. I recommend getting involved in your actual physical local community for starters.

Is everyone lying? No. But I have zero way to tell who is and who isn't and neither do you! unless you have actually met or talked to this person face to face you Do Not Know Them.

So to be like "how can someone spend $8 on Tumblr when I've seen all these blogs begging for help for months to no avail." Well. Because I was never going to give money to a stranger in the first place. Sorry.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

East Blue Crew modern au!

Ive been working on this on and off for a while now.

There’s a lot here so [rings dinner bell] come get y’all’s meal

ASL Modern Au Post

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The way post

Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2 post

Additional Headcanons:

Nami needs her own episode on extreme couponers. Sis has an entire binder dedicated to it.

Zoro cannot for the life of him beat Luffy in an arm wrestling match. No matter how much he lifts or trains, he always loses.

Zoro is actually pretty good at grilling. Sanji was pleasantly surprised when the burger that was presented to him wasnt a pile of ash/ so raw its still walking around. One day the two will have a grill off.

Usopp and Luffy love playing yugioh with eachother. Neither of them actually know the rules of the game, they just make it up as they go.

Nami used to collect american girl dolls and she keeps them in a closet in her apartment. One day when usopp luffy and chopper were snooping around, they found the accursed closet and were scared shitless.

Usopp has an ant farm and luffy thinks its the coolest shit.

In this modern au, sanji takes the place of that one guy on tiktok who makes duets with cooking videos, and films until they put the entire block of cream cheese in the crock pot.

Sanji is also this guy

Even though nami has scary dog privilege when walking with zoro, its not just beneficial to her. In fact nami has outlawed zoro from going on walks in general alone, as he would get lost and need nami to walk to him to direct him home. Nami has scary dog privilege and zoro has sense of direction privilege when they walk together

Sanji and Nami rewatch Pretty Little Liars/ Gossip Girl/ Glee/ and other CW drama shows together.

Nami and Usopp always be shit talking someone/something. They are hateful bitches.

How luffy meets each of them:

Zoro- they met each other because the 24 hr gym Zoro works in is right down the street from Luffy’s apartment and one day Luffy was walking by at around 3 am and noticed Zoro in there. Luffy asks him if he wants to join him fucking around at 3 am on the streets of this city area they live in and Zoro accepts after a little convincing from Luffy. When they get outside Zoro’s like

“where’s the rest?”

“Of what?”

“Of your friends”

“Its just you rn”

“… :| i mean, i had assumed you werent alone”

“Nope!”

“HA OkAy”

Nami- they took the same economics course together. They were paired up in a project and hit it off after that and often had study sessions together. Their defining friendship maker though, was they teamed up to steal the answer key to the test they were both definitely going to fail because the class was bullshit.

Usopp- they had taken a graphic design course together. Luffy had no idea what he was doing the entire time and Usopp was very happy that he could impart his wisdom uponst this newcomer to the arts. Although luffy did already have some… incredible(?) art skills of his own already. It was instant chemistry for them honestly, their synergy just clicked and before they knew it, they were besties.

Sanji- works in the restaurant thats underneath the ASL brothers’ apartment complex. Their fist encounter with the restaurant was not of them going in to eat there, though. The trio were throwing around the ol’ pig skin in the street in front of their complex when luffy failed to catch the ball, and accidentally ricocheted it into the front window of the Baratie, through the eating area, over the counter, and into Mr. Zeff’s face. Zeff stormed out of the eatery and asked which of them destroyed his glass and hit him in the head

And luffy looks over and notices his brothers selling him out and is like “HEY!!! D:” So luffy was stationed as the place’s chore boy and met sanji while working there. 2 years later the debt was repayed, sanji and luffy are friends, and the Baratie is ASL’s fav eating place due to the great food, delightfully violent vibes, and great company.

thats all for now, hope you enjoyed!

[ma1dita]

liar, liar

part two cn be found here-> truth be told

words: little under 2k

summary: sirius black is a good liar. spot how many times sirius lies in this fic.

warnings: slight nondescript smut!! errr cursing & another self-deprecating marauder, mostly unrequited love/being led on, sirius’s trauma response, fem!reader is too good for sirius, fem!reader has ‘i can fix him’ complex

a/n: guys… i thought of this prompt and the necklace Alex Russo wore in WoWP and suddenly, complex by katie gregson-macleod started playing so…sorry if this gets sadder.

(posted 9/8/23 & edited 11/6/23)

—

At the very core of him, Sirius Black is a liar. 

It’s not directly his fault, but a subliminal result of the loveless household he grew up in. Lies roll off his experienced tongue more naturally than when he’s ever tried to say I love you. So he’s convinced himself that it’s easier to live life this way, without love. If love ever fell into his hands, he’s not quite sure what he’d do with it. 

If Sirius Black could be defined, he thinks it would lack the word love and instead encompass a lot of his anger. Fiery, palpable anger, deep set in his core. That’s what he is. There are a lot of things to be angry about in this life, after all.

—

You’re 16 and this birthday party might’ve been your best idea yet. Your friends are dotted around your dorm room, along with some people you’ve invited from your classes. Among the forming crowd, you spot one Sirius Black. You don’t talk much outside of being Potions partners, and you get by with smiles in the halls and friendly touches. He’s looking at you from across the room like he knows you intimately, but that is far from the truth. Sirius Black is an enigma if anything, but what’s more unusual to you even after three shots of firewhiskey is the fact that he doesn't have any of his friends in tow. He meanders around the open space before circling back towards your direction as if that wasn’t his plan in the first place.

“Trouble in paradise?” you joke, gesturing to the space his posse would usually occupy behind him. He scoffs, avoiding the question, giving you a proper kiss on the cheek instead as he loops his arms around your waist. It piques your interest; you’ve always loved a challenge.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Sirius is handing you a small jewelry box, and you look at him dumbfounded. You’re barely even friends.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Black. I just called you over to get drunk with me and my mates.” You giggle, cheeks red from the alcohol.

It’s a necklace. A magical, really expensive one. Sirius is gauging your reaction, scratching the back of his neck. It’s easy to put a price to something rather than show you all of his cards.

“Well, aren't I special? This is too much, Black. I shouldn’t…” Your soft hands are pushing the box into his impenetrable wall of a chest as you shake your head in disbelief. No one’s ever gotten you something this nice or expensive before. You wonder if he does this to all the other girls that fawn over him.

“It’s nothing. I insist. You keep me distracted in Slughorn’s class and for that, you get a prize just as pretty as you.” He’s holding your wrists now, rubbing them casually like this isn’t the most intimate encounter you’ve had with him yet. Somehow you can sense that he needs this more than you do. To be needed. He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re the only one making him smile nowadays since his friends haven’t talked to him in weeks. You indulge in this behavior, because it’s new and exciting, and who would say no to Sirius Black?

The party ends much later after you tease him until his wit’s end, and then it’s your whispered approval that moves him to move his body over yours, the rest of your clothes quickly flying off in his pursuit to become a part of you. Physically and metaphorically, his being overtakes you quickly. Deep into the night, when he’s fucking you into your mattress, the necklace he gave you swings back and forth against your chest with every thrust of his hips, every bump of the headboard against the wall thumping the final nails into the coffin. You can’t help but feel special as he lays kisses on your spine. You know this isn’t intimacy in Sirius’ world though. This isn’t love, it’s bodies yearning for connection, to find something meaningful. To string the words to define how to pass the time. You hope he finds what he’s looking for between your sheets and as he breathes into your hair.

Sirius is angry at the world and he’s chosen you to be his target. What color on your necklace can define the fact you wanted him to fuck you brainless anyways? What can accurately portray the shaking of his hands as he slaps the fat of your thighs? Both of you don’t remember, but all he knows is your naked bosom is glowing amber as you pant, and it looks and feels like you’re on fire. Lust has a way of consuming the body, both of you moving until you cannot anymore, anatomy animated by the need for touch.

He needed this, a distraction. And you just wanted a crazy story to tell. You keep note of the fact that Sirius likes it when you moan his name, and he makes it his mission for you to scream the name he grew up hating because it sounds pretty coming from your mouth. Because here in this room, it means something other than disappointment.

“Oh my god, baby, right there!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.” he pants, pulling your hair roughly as he jackhammers into you. No pet names or endearments are allowed. Just Sirius, and he’ll correct you if you get it wrong. By the end of it, you’re slurring your words and screaming nonsense anyway. You think nothing of it.

He wants you as much as you’ll have him, which, when you’re 16, you think can be made a priority just to keep his eyes on you. Everyone wants a piece of Sirius Orion Black. And your hands are stretched out in hopes of partaking in this transaction of physicality and sin. Weeks later, after you seemingly fall asleep in the boys’ dorm, James asks Sirius if you’re his girlfriend. “She’s…alright,” he mumbles into the air. They’ve finally forgiven him for The Prank after your urges to get Sirius to swallow his ego. He never got to thank you for it. Gratitudes and endearments were a rarity at Grimmauld Place. 

Peter whispers in the dark of their dorm and asks Sirius if he could ever fall in love with you. With your eyes closed and your head lying against his chest, you feel him shrug as he traces a hickey he left on your collarbone. What is love to Sirius Black? He’s looking at your chest glow red, and his hand clutches the pendant in his fist, trying to dim its light. You go to sleep instead. The incandescent glow of the pendant seeps beneath your eyelids.

—

You’re 19 and sometimes you wonder if it’d be easier to be dead. Good days are a relief for all to have, presenting themselves as scarce and far apart in your new normal. There’s a war going on and you think it’s criminal to consider yourself adult enough to fight in it, but you and your friends–and your boyfriend do. You sleep in Sirius’ apartment more than your own now, but he never calls you his girlfriend, he just calls you his, and you convince yourself to not worry so much about it because death itself is coming for everyone you know. You’re together, and that’s what matters, right? There are bigger problems at hand.

Between Auror missions, Sirius has a bad habit of picking fights with you in front of your friends, which now include his friends. A lot of you comes from him, which you don’t resent. They’re lovely, but they see through the struggle. They know him too well, and you go to every gathering with an inkling that they know how mean Sirius can truly be. Old habits die hard. Tonight he yells at you because you won’t let him get a fifth beer. 

“Always thinking you know better than me, (Y/N). You’re not my fucking wife, so I don’t need to listen to you! No one wants to hang around a killjoy.”

He wrenches his grip from your thigh, nearly toppling your chair over to stomp over to the bar himself. Everyone stares at you, waiting for you to react before they judge. Before they defend their friend. His behavior has been erratic lately with his world crumbling as he knows it. But then again, Sirius has never known life without chaos.

“I know it’s not… ideal. But he’s a good guy. We’re all just going through shit right now. His brother’s missing, so I’m there when he needs me.”  Which is always, you omit from your response. You don’t mind being needed though. Helping him fight his demons is a part of being in a relationship with someone so damaged. You bring him light when his mind darkens. That is not transactional. It’s something deeper, though the words dissipate before either of you can utter it at night.

Lily reaches over the table to hold your hand, with Remus pulling his arm around the back of your chair, and rubbing your shoulder. Your chest is still glowing red, your love for him triumphing over any embarrassment he’s caused you. How you feel has always been clear, evident on your chest. What a weakness to have, to lay yourself bare to him and you wonder if Sirius did it on purpose.

He gets piss drunk as you expected and you have to side-apparate him home while you insist to everyone else that they should stay and have fun. They’re not as easily convinced, but you bid them farewell anyway. You get to the apartment and Sirius mumbles a ‘thank you’ as you help him take his clothes off and you gently tuck him under the covers, kissing him goodnight. Small moments like these are tender. They say more than anything you could put into words.

Moments later, you pretend to not hear Sirius cry, but his chest is heaving and the sound coming from his throat is so gut-wrenching that you lift yourself out from under him where he was weeping into your shoulder. In the dark, your eyes adjust to find his face in the moonlight.

“Sirius?” you breathe, fingers ghosting over the tears on his face. 

“He’s dead.” he whimpers. You’ve never seen Sirius Black let himself be vulnerable like this. Not to the Marauders, and especially not to you. There’s no carnal aspect in sorrow, though it leaves one gutted, worn down to the bone.

“My baby brother is dead, and no one knows. I don’t even have a body to mourn over.” 

He chokes back a sob, and you let his arms shroud your body, leaving the red glow of your pendant trapped between both of your ribs. You hope some of the light and some of your love seeps into him. You have plenty to give, and it’s all his for the taking, if only he’d let you.

Sirius falls asleep hours later, and you’re pinned to the bed underneath him. There’s a crick in your trapezius that you try to ignore as you stroke his hair. Maybe in his dreamless state he can find peace. You close your eyes and wonder if Regulus has found solace in death. Maybe it would feel something like this.

��

You’re 21 and most of your good friends are dead or in hiding. It’s the night before Halloween, but there’s not a lot to celebrate if real life is much scarier now.

Over the years, Sirius and you have come to an understanding. He’s flawed, with a viciously large ego and oftentimes he’s mean when he doesn’t know how to react. But he’s human. He tries now, more than ever to quell the anger born in the Black name. He tries to be gentle, though the instinct to hurt is in his blood. You’re patient, and resilient enough to take the blows, knowing what you feel is deeper than his anger, often revealing itself as his darkest fears. You like him ‘because’ and love him ‘despite’. Your cue to comfort him is usually right before he gets the look on his face that tells you he’ll say something knowing it’ll make you cry. You’ve always loved him, but now you know why. Sirius wonders every day how you’re still with him. He’s a runner, but since the day you’ve met him, you haven’t quite let go of his hand.

Usually instead of an apology, he’ll usually fuck you to oblivion, making sure your legs shake and your brain is jumbled enough to not talk about the hurt he causes you. He strokes the fire in you, and the feeling of anger that continually wracks his being can only be satiated by your touch. His skin on yours is the best place to be, but maybe there’s a part of you that likes the hurt, his anger. It's almost passionate, the only emotion he knows how to express well. You love him in a way that only you can, despite all of that. But it all blurs when he kisses you, consumes you. You especially like it when he pulls your hair.

You shriek as you come down from a release, hands rubbing the expanse of his chest. His thrusts slow as he grapples with reality, pawing at your breasts. Your hips milk him for his worth, and he groans lowly.

“You’re too good to me, wife. You’re all mine.” 

Your ministrations come to a stop as you look down at him, pendant hanging between your faces. Nicknames were a growing commodity lately.

“Wife, huh…”

The air is heavy between you two, still connected as one while you wait for his response. Let him take the lead, as it’s the role he’s more accustomed to.

“If that’s okay.” he breathes, not knowing what to do with his hands. Love has fallen into his hands, and her physical form is sitting in his lap. His grip eases as he accepts you wholly.

“Maybe someday soon.” 

A slow smile stretches across your face. 

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider.” But the glow of your necklace is more vibrant now, and you two both know your answer as he grabs your waist and pulls you down for another round.

Sirius tries to sneak out of bed in the early morning as you doze off. You wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, bare feet padding across your shared apartment in search of him until you see him dressed in the kitchen and holding a letter. 

“I have to go… deal with some business,” he mutters, not stepping away from the window nor sparing you a glance. Lying to someone he loves is harder than he thought it would be.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You’re standing in the doorway wearing his shirt and his boxers. He likes it when you say his name. You could call him anything you want and he’d come running.

“James and Lily, they’re in trouble. I’ll be back by morning.”

You turn to grab your wand, planning to go with him, but he’s suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you into a kiss, stopping your advances. He has something to lose now. You’re his, and he’ll be damned to let you follow him blindly into danger.

“You have to stay here. Everything will be okay,” he says, holding your chin. The lie sits heavy on his tongue. Maybe if he focuses he’ll see the rose-tinted hue of your irises every time he shuts his eyes.

“You’re scaring me...” You look at him in apprehension, his movements erratic and you wonder if he’s cracked and needs an exorcism. Then your heart is thundering in your chest and the red glow turns ice blue. A new feeling has taken a larger form than your love, and its fear. Briefly, you wonder how Sirius lives on edge like this. Something is dangerously wrong. He looks into your eyes, and then the cold glow on your chest. He takes a slow step back away from you, looking almost apologetic.

“Sirius Black, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I love you.”

He’s apparated and long gone before you register what he said. It sounded unfamiliar coming from his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. It was something you’ve always known. You just didn’t think that hearing it would hurt this badly.

—

The doors of the dreary prison cell screech shut in Azkaban. Visiting hours are over, and Sirius hadn’t left his space the whole two hours you waited outside in hopes of seeing him.

Tossing the lunch you packed into the bin as you push through the exit door for the last time, you think that killing him would’ve been easier than this, but he is not the victim in this story. You at least hope he got your package, as you think that maybe you could find a different adventure now, one that doesn’t involve having your feelings splayed across your chest for a murderer to come in and kill you dead. What a fool, to know someone so intimately, so innately, and for him to be a killer.

The envelope is slid under his cell door, and he opens it slowly. The necklace. Sirius sighs, and he wonders if you’ll finally let him go. It’s what you deserve anyway, now that he’ll rot in here for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s hurt you enough that even if he did tell you everything, there’s a chance you wouldn’t believe him. No one does, after all. The cool silver of the chain makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as he slips it on. Red. 

With all the time in the world to think, he realizes that he can easily be defined by the sound of your voice calling his name. He’s called many things now besides a liar; a murderer, a deranged madman, a traitor. The only definition of himself he prefers now is one where he is described to be loving you. There are a lot of things to love about you, after all. He spends days, weeks, months, years, keeping track. He finds new ones every time he closes his eyes.

But Sirius Black is first and foremost a liar, and if there’s anything he’s sure of, is that he’s damn good at it.

—

“You say you love rain

but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun

but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love wind

but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid

when you say you love me.”

William Shakespeare

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: complex by katie gregson-macleod

taglist: @jsjcue

[exhaslo]

Hi! I've been reading off and on and I loved puzzle pieces and I'm excited for Overtime! I do have a ask if you have the time.

The reader is a spider person and has a couple friends and is good at her job in alxmex. (I don't think I spelled that right forgive me.) but when she reports or gets missions from Miguel she clams up and doesn't really talk much just stoic and shy (definitely trying to fight the crush and just staring at him.) and he notices how different it is from the watch footage and what everyone says about reader. Layla figures out she has a crush and tells Miguel. Plot twist though the reader stays late practicing web moves in the gym and goes to the locker room/showers to rense off and change and there's Miguel waiting for her after his shower cause it's Miguel he likes to make people squirm. (I assume the gym locker room/shower there is unisex for reasons only for the plot 👀) So Miguel's there in just towel looking at the reader, and the virgin reader (cause of course she is.) is trying to be polite and not look at him and then chaos can reupt.

The idea popped into my head and I really enjoy your writing so I think it would be really fun to see how you interpret it. In my head I definitely see him going "you can look you know?" And the reader is just refusing and maybe he has to make her. I'll let you decide that lol. Anyway I really love your writing and I hope when you get this you have a good rest of your day or it gets better! 😊

Haha, the plot armor is STRONG with this one! Also, thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my series~

Warning: MINORS DNI, some smut, mentioned of sex, teasing, touch-starved Miguel

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

What would it take for your eyes to gaze only at him?

Despite what everyone believes about you, Miguel could only see one side. The shy and quiet you that could barely stutter a word whenever the two of you were alone. Your gaze always avoiding his, but yet, always stares whenever you thought Miguel wasn't looking.

So what would it take for you to open to up him?

This all started with you. Miguel knew that you were always a good worker. Everyone loved you and always praised you, but you always gave Miguel the cold shoulder. At least that was what he thought at first.

Miguel remembered it like it was yesterday. You had done a mission for him and there was barely anyone at the Spider Society. You were so quiet and embarrassed that you stumbled and fell against Miguel when delivering your report.

Your hands against his chest. That sweet voice of yours apologizing profusely as those glowing orbs of yours stared into his. It felt like an eternity. Miguel almost didn't want to let you go. He had wanted you to keep touching him.

It had been weeks since that encounter, and Miguel could only get a brush of your hand ever now and then.

So, what would it take for you to touch him again?

It was getting to the point where Miguel was becoming obsessive. He had started to watch videos of you from your home world. Watching your every lively moment. You weren't quiet to others. Miguel just wanted more of you.

"Ohoho, I think I found something interesting for our little Spider creep."

"Stop calling me that, Lyla." Miguel hissed towards his AI, "What did you find?"

Lyla withheld a snicker as she pulled a video up.

"Sooooo, (Y/N), when are you joining the dating pool?" One of your friends from your world asked.

"Ah-I'm not sure," You said with a light laugh, "There is this one guy I work with...He's kind of my boss, but he is so amazing. You're going to laugh, but I clamp up and can't say a word to him!"

"Liar. You never shut up!"

"My heart just keeps racing whenever I see him! He's so handsome and perfect. I just don't think I'm good enough for someone like him."

"What's his name and how long have you liked him?"

"Miguel and call it cheesy, but it was totally love at first sight. I can't even begin to describe my dreams~"

Miguel felt flustered as he immediately turned the video off. So that was why you kept avoiding him. Unable to hide his smile, Miguel knew that it was going to be much more fun from now on. Hopefully his teasing will get you to open up more.

---------

With a heavy sigh, you scurried your way inside the Spider Society. It had been a long day of both work and crime fighting. Alchemax had you up to your head with paper work, then of course your Rhino decided to cause some havoc in the city.

You were due to a nice shower.

Hearing the alarm go off, you let out another sigh as you accepted the anomaly request on your watch. You entered the different world and nearly gasped as Miguel swung over you. Your face turning bright red as you got a good look at his ass.

Unsure if you should stay or not, you panicked. What if you messed up in front of Miguel?

Deciding to stay, you hurried to Miguel's side. This time the anomaly was a Doc Ock. You scrunched your face up as this Doc Ock used mud like attacks.

"Watch out, (Y/N)!" Miguel called out.

You felt your spider senses tingle as you went to dodge an attack. Before you could move, you felt yourself being pulled. Gasping sharply, you landed in Miguel's arms as you pulled you to safety. His grip tight around your waist.

"You take him from behind, I'll go front." Miguel said.

"A-"

You squeaked in response, unable to say anything. Instead, you followed his lead, trying to forget about his arm around you.

You knew you were going to sleep good tonight.

---------

Miguel had his eyes on you during the whole fight. He wanted to touch you more. Using the fight as an excuse, Miguel kept grabbing your arm, pulling against your waist and even bumping into you. Any kind of touch was what he needed.

Once the Doc Ock was captured, Miguel had you follow him back to the Spider Society. By this time nearly everyone was getting ready to go home.

"Ugh, I need a shower," You whispered, "Um....M-Miguel...G-Give me like....twenty....twenty minutes....p-please?"

God. You sounded so sweet. Miguel knew he was handsome, but to make such a outgoing person like you stutter and freeze was new. Hell, it started to turn him on.

"Sure,"

At this rate, Miguel needed to be the one to make the first move. These little touches here and there weren't going to get you out of your shell. Having an idea of where you were going, Miguel just chuckled as he decided to have some fun.

---------

A shower was definitely what you needed. Washing off the sweat, stress and mud from the way was so refreshing. Letting the water run down your body, you started to recall how Miguel kept touching you during the fight.

This was the most he had ever made contact with you. It was so hot and addicting. Knowing that the place was empty, you decided to give in to your small urges.

Letting your hands roam, you leaned against the shower wall and started to think of Miguel. The way his hands felt against your body. If only they could touch you elsewhere. His deep, charming voice whispering dirty things in your ear.

"Mhm~"

Imagining Miguel finally kissing you. His fingers making a mess of your sex while you cry and beg. How wonderful would that be?

"Sounds like someone needed to destress."

You gasped, recognizing the voice to be Miguel's. Your face was probably a million shades of red as you bend down and tried to hide inside the shower. Though, there really wasn't any use since he knew you were in here now.

"(Y/N)?" Miguel hummed lowly, "It's okay to show your face."

"B-But..." You covered your face, feeling embarrassed, "Sorry,"

"For what?"

Hearing the curtain open, you squeaked and looked up at Miguel. His lower half in a loose towel as he looked down at you with what seemed like a seductive grin.

"How cute. All wrapped up?" Miguel chuckled lowly.

This was the most you've ever had a conversation with him. Registering that you were naked, you tried to close the curtain again, but Miguel stopped you. He bend down to your level, his towel falling off, causing you to look away.

"Don't be shy, (Y/N), you can look."

Your mind was racing a mile a minute. Unable to refuse such a offer, you slowly turned your head to face Miguel. Your whole body had probably turned red from embarrassment as you tried to hide. How could Miguel say something to tempting?

"You're cute," Miguel chuckled as he grabbed your chin, making you look at him, "I like you, (Y/N). I like you a lot."

"Huh?"

Your eyes widen to Miguel's confession. Trying to stutter the words out, you decided to take the leap. Leaning forward, you pecked Miguel's lips to respond to him.

That was a great mistake.

Miguel pinned you against the wall, his lips all over yours. Your body resting against his hips as his hands roamed your body. You weren't sure where to touch him, so you kept your hands around his neck. His tongue ravishing your mouth in the meantime.

Your body arched slightly as you felt his dick poking against your entrance. You wanted to say that this was moving too fast, but at the same time....You wanted him to fuck you.

Stroking your hands against his chest, you felt Miguel groan. He broke the kiss, watching you pant for air.

"Don't stop touching me, (Y/N). I want to see the side of you that everyone else sees."

"Mhm," You still felt shy towards his words, "T-This....This is the side I...I will only show you..."

"Even better," Miguel said with a grin as he captured your lips again.

You whimpered into the kiss, enjoying every second of it. His hands reaching your breasts, giving them a squeeze while he moved his hips to rub his dick against your cunt. You were feeling hot and wet, ready for this to escalate.

"Thank god the showers are still open. MJ and I had a fight so I'm sleeping here tonight." One of the Peters said as they entered the shower room.

Miguel was quick to shut the curtain, covering your mouth with his, wanting to keep you quiet.

"I wish I got into a fight. I got kicked out of my apartment because I couldn't' pay rent in time. I gotta crash here until I get a new place."

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you gently tugged against his hair to have him stop. Miguel pulled away, smirking down at you. He leaned towards you, nibbling against your ear,

"You really shouldn't have done that," He whispered, "We'll going to continue this in my office."

You rolled your lips inward as you just nodded. Miguel still held onto you, wanting to make sure you knew how hard he was. Covering your face against his chest, you tried your best to hide your smile.

This was the best day ever.

And the fun hadn't even started yet.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed!!

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (10)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (9)

“What has gotten into you two?” You scream loud enough to make Sam flinch. “Did you realize that Michael heard what you said? He’s a child and that was the worst way to find out that Dean is his father! How could you do this to him?”

You throw your hands up as the men prefer to push each other around instead of listening to you.

“Dean, stop this. Y/N is right,” Sam tries to help you, but Dean is out of his mind. 

“He—he tried to get into your pants. I know it,” Dean grunts and pushes Ketch away. “I saw the way he looked at you when during our meetings, and not moments ago.”

“He’s my friend.”

“No,” Dean steps toward you, “he’s not. All he has in mind is to get into your pants, sweetheart. You’re just too blinded by the lies he fed you to see clearly.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Winchester!” You slap Dean across the face, leaving an angry handprint on his left cheek. “Not all men are pigs or assholes like you.”

“I saw what I saw, Y/N,” Dean huffs, and rubs his burning cheek. “A wolf recognizes another wolf sniffing around his territory. That bastard came to claim what’s mine.”

“What’s yours? Dream on, Winchester,” Ketch laughs in Dean’s face. “For years I played the good guy, her friend, and confidant to make her see that I’m the man she should long for, not the guy leaving her all alone when she needed him the most. Do you have the slightest idea how hard it is to not make a move while you’re longing for the woman you can’t have?”

“Hah, I told you,” Dean wildly gestures toward Ketch. “He’s nothing but a dog wanting to sniff at your pussy.”

You try to fathom that your friend, the man you consider family tricked you only to get into your pants. 

That’s all you’ve been to him. A love interest. Not a friend. Not a business partner. Not the person he cares for.

Ketch is a liar, just like all the other men trying to charm their way into your bed over the years. You didn’t let any man get close to you, afraid to get hurt again. 

A few sexual encounters with faceless men you forgot about the morning after were all you allowed yourself. Your son always came first. This will never change.

“Dean!” Sam warns. “Someone should check on the kid before things get out of hand. He just got to know about his father. Can you postpone your pissing contest for now?”

You give Sam a weak smile. Dean is not the kind of guy who gives up so easily. You know that. For now, you will leave Ketch, Dean, and all the shit they pulled behind and try to soothe your child. The only important man in your life.

“You lied,” Michael sniffs when you enter your bedroom. You sigh, relieved that you finally found him. You were searching for your son for half an hour. Finding him here, in your arms is comforting. He was seeking your closeness while being angry at you.

“Baby boy,” you crouch down to look under your bed. “I’m sorry.”

“You said my dad is overseas, and that he can’t be with us because he’s…always busy,” he sniffles. “Why did you lie to me, mommy?”

“Sometimes adults lie to not hurt someone they love, baby,” you lie on the ground, and touch his hand. “Dean,” you sigh, “your dad didn’t know about you. We ended our relationship, and I left to live here, and give you the life you deserve.”

“Why did you never tell him about me?” Michael asks. “Mommy? I asked about my dad, and you never told me about him.”

“I was scared,” you reluctantly admit. “Dean hurt me back then, and I ran away like a scared child. Almost like you now.”

“You were scared?” Michael scoots a little closer to curl in your side. “Why? Did he hurt you? I’ll kick him if he hurt you.”

“Not like that, baby,” you softly say, and smile at your son. “People hurt you each other differently, you know. Just like Ketch and Dean did with you. They hurt your heart with their words.”

Michael nods. He always was smart for his age. “Words can hurt. In here.” He points at his chest. “I believed you hate me, Mommy. I…I’m sorry.”

“Shhh…I’m sorry,” you move closer to wrap your son in your arms. “I love you, baby. The reason for not telling you about Dean was that I didn’t know if he wanted to get to know you. I was scared and unsure what to do.”

“But…he came here for me,” Michael sniffles. “Right? Dean came here to get to know me. He brought me the car his brother gave him. This means he…likes me.”

You remain silent. “He got on a plane for you. I can tell, Dean hates flying.”

“Let me go, Sammy. That bastard won’t put his hands on my woman!” Dean fights his brother’s hold on him. “I will kill him!”

“You degenerated worm,” Ketch pushes his hair back and laughs about Dean. “Do you honestly believe she will choose you over me?” He huffs. “You had your chance and fucked up big time. I was there the whole time. Y/N will choose me after you attacked me without a reason.”

“She won’t,” Dean bares his teeth. “Y/N is smart and knows that you lied to her. She won’t let you near her or Michael ever again.”

“We will see, Kansas boy,” Ketch spits on the ground. “You’re nothing but a bad memory. I’m a gentleman and know how to treat a lady.”

“I think that is enough,” you snap at Ketch. “Dean, Sam, get inside. I got to talk to my…friend.” You jerk your head toward the door. “Dean, I hope you have a speech prepared because now, you’ll explain to your son why you came here.”

“Uh-sure,” Dean looks at Ketch and then at you. He smirks, knowing he at least won this battle. “Sorry for the mess.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get inside and shut up,” you brush past Dean. “Arthur,” you exhale sharply and steel yourself. “I quit.” 

“What? You can’t give everything up for that man!”

“I don’t give up anything for Dean,” you cross your arms over your chest. “But I will no longer work with a man pretending to be a friend to get in my pants. I believed our friendship was special, now I know better.”

“Y/N,” he tries to touch your shoulder, but you slap his hand away. “You can’t believe his lies.”

“Save it, Arthur,” you shake your head. “I needed a friend, not another lover. I will clean out my office on Monday.”

You turn around and take a deep breath. One fight is done, another awaits you…

Part 11

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 23 | Terse Table Talk

Chapter Twenty-Three | Terse Table Talk

Kers heard the voices extinguish like a snuffed candle as soon as the call of, “hello?” left his lips. There was a slight shuffle of light souled shoes. A few hushed whispers Kers couldn’t make out but guessed it had something to do with protection and curiosity.

He decided to call out again.

This was one thing he hated about meeting new Borrowers – the apprehension and fear of whether they were kind or evil. Too many times his encounters ended up with the later rather than the former.

Images flashed in front of Kers’ eyes of memories long passed. It was quick, but just enough to set Kers on edge as he spoke up again.

“Hello? Listen, I don’t mean to intrude. My name is Kers. I just moved here with the human. If you don’t want me around, I’ll go somewhere else. You won’t even know I’m here. I just wanted to explore the walls and set up a good place to stay. From one Borrower to another, any help is appreciated.”

The words he spoke were words Kers heard his brothers say countless times when they moved around as kids. Just saying it made his throat constrict, but he would muddle through that later.

The silence that followed was deafening and thick with unease. It put the Borrower on edge to the point he reached for the pin on his side. The only hesitation came when a masculine voice, smooth and aged, answered.

“You alone?”

Kers breathed a relative sigh of relief, but he was far from being in the clear yet. It was a start though.

“Yes, I am,” he replied as he thought of Parker, a topic he decided was not good to bring up right at this moment.

Another pause.

Then, emerging from the corner, was who Kers assumed was the father. He had thick facial hair but a thinning hair line, both speckled with blond and silver hair. The Borrower had fierce eyes that absorbed the light coming from the light that was on the end of his walking stick. He had his staff light held out defensively and quickly evaluated Kers. Whatever this Borrower had seen in his life, he obviously was a quick reader when it came to character.

It took a few moments before he retracted his staff.

“New arrival, you say?” he asked gruffly. Kers nodded.

“Yeah. Haven’t even been here twenty minutes,” replied Kers.

“From where?”

“Electrical outlet in the living room. Don’t worry. I put it back.”

“And the human? Does she know about you?”

Kers had to think about the Borrower’s question for a moment. The truthful answer was yes and no, seeing that Amanda knew about Parker; but, that wasn’t the question.

“No, she doesn’t know about me. I’ve been around her for four years. I can share what I know. Patterns. Organization. Schedule,” offered Kers.

The Borrower’s eyes narrowed as he evaluated Kers’ offer. He actually reached up and stroked at his silver streaked beard as he considered the possibilities in front of him.

“In exchange for?” he asked after several more tense seconds.

“Nothing. Just one Borrower being friendly to another,” stated Kers. “Though if you have an idea of where would be good for me to set up camp to not be in your way or space, I’d appreciate it.”

The offer of nothing obviously raised the Borrower’s suspicions, but followed up with a suggestion of where to live seemed to, at the very least, amuse him. He nodded and, after a moment, extended his hand for Kers to shake, which he did gladly.

“Well, I think we can agree to those terms. I can tell a liar when I hear one, and that’s not you, but don’t try anything. Got it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” agreed Kers. With a stiff nod, the Borrower stepped to the side and gave a little gesture for Kers to follow along. It took everything in him for Kers to keep from resting his hand on his stay pin sword and his thumbtack dagger as he followed the other Borrower. He also didn’t dare ask anything too personal. This guy seemed like the type to provide essential information when the time was right.

They rounded the corner and Kers instantly spotted three other Borrowers in varying ages. The oldest was obviously late teens and shared many features with his father including those light absorbing eyes and blonde hair. The middle child was a girl who looked, to Kers, to be just a little younger or about the same age as Parker. She had dark brown hair and the same coal black eyes as her older brother. Then there was the youngest boy among them, a dark haired blue-eyed boy who was maybe eight or nine years old.

“Kids, this is Kers. My oldest, Finnick, my daughter, Sprokit, and my youngest son, Reed,” introduced the Borrower. “I’m Toulouse.”

“Nice to meet all of you,” Kers said. His insides churned nervously as he glanced at the piercing eyes of Toulouse’s children. All of them seemed to have the same ability their father had in seeing straight through someone. Perhaps it was just the color of the two eldest children’s eyes, but Kers felt like the secret of Parker would not remain so for long.

“Well, our plan was to go out and show Reed the ropes of running outside the walls, but gathering intel on this new human might be better,” pointed out Finnick, whose hand was also resting on what looked like a razor blade dagger at his hip.

“My thoughts exactly,” replied Toulouse. Reed was obviously crushed. His shoulders slumped and his features fell, but he didn’t say anything in objection. Kers didn’t know if it was because Reed wanted to behave himself and be rewarded with time outside of the walls or if he was a bit shy around strangers.

Whatever the case, Finnick gestured for Kers to follow, and so he did.

The five of them trekked through the walls, Reed stomping up the stairs from time to time to demonstrate his frustration in getting his wall trip cut short, while Toulouse followed behind. Kers almost felt like he was surrounded and being escorted to some kind of holding facility like how they did in the movies.

Kers had that privilege of watching a few movies from front to finish without Amanda and Parker noticing, and this felt like one of those movie scenes.

Up the walls. Across beams. Down some wires and then back up again.

Eventually, they made it to a section of wall that was very clearly part of the attic crawl space. It was a spot that was either segmented off from the main house or in a space that could never be reached by the residents of the house. Whatever the case, the house was made of sturdy cardboard and wood.

The windows were aglow with warm light, most likely from more fairy lights, and there was a smell of something in the air coming from the kitchen. Inside, Kers could hear someone singing softly along with coos and young giggles.

“Don’t forget to take off your shoes when you go in. Mom hates dirt in the house,” said the girl.

“Oh, right. Thanks. Sprokit, was it?” asked Kers. The girl huffed slightly as she pried off her borrowing boots and began unstrapping her gear.

“I go by Kit, actually. Dad just prefers full names for introductions,” replied Kit.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I’ll remember that,” apologized Kers.

“Don’t be rude, sis,” mumbled Reed.

“You mind your business,” Kit shot back.

One look from their father silenced their bickering as they retreated into the house. Kers noticed that none of them removed their various blades and pins as they went into the house.

Smart. They don’t trust me and are staying safe. Guess I’ll do the same.

Kers removed his shoes and walked further into the house as he heard who he presumed was the mother and wife to Toulouse address the kids. Her voice was as sweet as her singing.

“Hey there. Back so soon? Did something happen? Or did you all find what you were looking for that quick?” she asked.

“We have a guest,” Kers heard Kit say. There was a distinct inhalation before the conversation continued.

“Ah. I see. Well… I guess I need to set another bowl on the table,” she replied.

Kers glanced around the living area and caught a glimpse of the kitchen.

The place was pristine. The crochet blankets were neatly piled in the corner of the room. There was a table made of what looked like glued together playing cards and shelves made of popsicle sticks. It made where Kers used to live look like a hovel.

Still, they probably never had to move in their lives. Or, at least, they haven’t had the need to move in a while.

Lucky.

“Hi!” Kers snapped too when he felt a tug at his hip from another little Borrower child. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile that stretched as wide as a jumbo rubber band. “Hi!” She must’ve been four or five years old by Kers’ estimates.

Stunned, Kers could barely manage his own, “Hello,” before spotting the baby girl’s mother. She had dark brown hair and blue eyes that were pale like glacier ice. She was wearing a skirt that fell just below her knees and an apron of sorts with various tools and threads spilling off of it.

What really caught Kers’ eyes, however, was what he noticed when she walked over to snag the Borrower child. She walked with a severe limp and the leg that poked out from under the skirt wasn’t real. It was fake.

A prosthetic – and it looked well made.

“Dove! So sorry about that,” she smiled. Kers shook his head and smiled as he looked into the woman’s features. There was so much life in her eyes, like she couldn’t be deterred from anything she set her mind to.

“No. Don’t worry about it. No harm or anything,” said Kers. “I’m Kers. Just moved in when I met the rest of your family.”

“Barely arrived,” said Toulouse as he entered the kitchen and leaned over to kiss his wife and take the baby, Dove, from her arms. “His pack is by the door.”

“Wow! So, you must’ve arrived with the new human. Yeah? The other family was here yesterday moving things around and then they were gone. Now we have a new human.

“I didn’t think humans could move so quickly. Then again, they have all of those tools and everything. Good for us. There won’t be any gap in borrowing,” she smiled. A thought must’ve dawned on her because she immediately wiped her hands on her apron and held out her hand for Kers. “Sorry. I’m Mira.”

“Nice to meet you.” The two of them shook hands before her husband cleared his throat.

“What do you need to finish lunch?” asked Toulouse. Mira gestured to the table and the stove, which looked like part of a heating element that was hooked up to electricity.

“Just your bums in the chairs and the pot on the table. I hope you don’t mind potato soup. I thought we were going to have to start rationing, so I went ahead and made a big batch to start storing,” Mira replied. “Here. I’ll get-”

“I’ve got it, mom,” said Finnick as he hoisted the pot off of the stove and set it onto the table, making sure to put it on the cloth fragment to keep from burning the table. Mira smiled and nodded as she maneuvered the youngest from one hip to the next with the smallest wince before carrying her over to the table, the rhythm of her walk showing she had experience walking with a child on her hip.

Before he knew it, Kers was sitting down at the table across from the oldest boy and beside the youngest with Toulouse immediately to his left. There was a warm bowl of soup in front of him and conversation all around.

Never before had he experienced anything like this.

A lump formed somewhere in his throat. More images flashed in front of his mind of days gone by.

Had he really been alone for so long?

“So, Kers,” said Mira as she wiped up her daughter’s face once again. “Tell us a bit about your travels. Have you always lived around this new human downstairs? Or was this a recent development?”

Just as if someone had snapped their fingers, Kers was out of his trance and in the moment once again.

“Um… I… well… I mostly moved around except for the past four years, which is when I started living in Amanda’s building. That’s the name of the human woman downstairs,” said Kers. “As for my travels… well… there’s nothing really to tell. Lived as an Outie for most of it, but lived as an Innie when I could.”

“An Outie? You mean you lived outside in the elements with the wild animals and everything?” asked the youngest, Reed. His eyes were bright with curiosity and also filled with the innocence of never being truly afraid in his life. Kers didn’t want to scare the kid but nodded simply to be polite.

Already, this was more words than he would say in a year, and he was feeling burned out from conversation. Still, he endured the further onslaught as all of the children as well as their parents asked question after question.

How long had he lived on his own?

What were his skills?

Would he be interested in helping ward off some animals trying to get into the baseboards?

Where was he thinking about setting up?

What kind of things did he need to get started?

What really started to make Kers nervous was when they began to ask about the human and her habits.

He told them everything. He told them she worked from home a lot but slept soundly through the night and generally kept to herself when she was home. The Borrower went into all of the details he could when it came to how she liked to put things into drawers and the things she would notice going missing.

“This is really good, dad,” Finnick said as he helped clear away the dishes. “We’ll be able to get everything timed to the second. It’s even better because she doesn’t have any kids.”

Kers felt his insides twist, making acid build in the back of his throat. It was like walking on pins and needles. Kers knew he needed to discuss this as soon as possible, but it didn’t stop the impending dread. Before things went any further, Kers decided to speak up.

With no real plan of attack, he took a breath and dared to begin the impossible conversation.

“Actually… she does have a kid.”

The family glanced around at him curiously before continuing their dinner clean-up.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” muttered Toulouse. “Thought we’d get a break after the last family left. No matter. We’ll be no worse for wear. We’ll just…”

“Actually,” interrupted Kers. “There’s… something about the kid that… is going to be a bit hard for you to hear.”

The room quieted as all eyes fell on Kers. It made him feel like bugs were crawling all over his skin. He hated attention, even as a child, and this was his ultimate nightmare. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued.

“The kid’s name is Parker. He’s a really sweet kid, but he’s a little different; especially from Amanda.” This was it. The moment of truth. “Because he’s a Borrower.”

It felt like someone set electricity into the air, charging it and making everyone’s hair stand on end. Everyone’s eyes widened to the size of human dinner plates. Expressions varied from confusion to disturbed horror and anger. It was a scene of complete and utter mortification, and Kers knew the bombardment from earlier would be nothing compared to what was in store for him.

Toulouse was on his feet in the blink of an eye as the kids retreated several steps away from the table.

“What do you mean? She… captured him?” asked Mira. Kers shook his head and took a visible breath in hopes it would deescalate the situation.

“No, I don’t think so. I honestly think that she found him and has been taking care of him for all of his life,” replied Kers. “I want to tell y-”

“You mean to tell me a human has been keeping a Borrower hostage and you’ve just watched for four years?” growled Toulouse.

“Dad… do you think he’s her pet too?” hissed Finnick as his hand now rested obviously on his hip dagger, ready to draw in an instant. The afternoon had turned from a pleasant one to one of utter chaos in a matter of seconds.

This was bad.

Kers knew he had to rise to his own defense and provide some kind of explanation. He cursed himself for not being as eloquent as his eldest brother. He continued to sit and shook his head as he said, “I’m no pet, boy. You would do well to remember that. And I can tell you I’ve wrestled with this from the first day I found them together. I’ll tell you if you’re willing to hear me out.”

The family exchanged wary glances, so Kers continued in a rapid word vomit that put teenage gossipers to shame.  

“I was moving in the middle of winter from the home I was previously in. I thought I might’ve been seen and kept to the Borrower code of staying on the move. I saw them playing in the snow outside and began planning a rescue mission immediately.

“When I made it to their home, I saw them sitting together watching a movie just like any other parent and child I had seen in previous homes. She made sure he had food and they even read together that night. I had no supplies and no way to take care of him, and Parker didn’t seem like he was in any danger.

“I decided to get enough supplies to survive and then I would rescue him, but the more I watched the more I realized this kid had no idea that he was a Borrower and was happy living with his adopted mother. I’ve been watching ever since to make sure he was alright, keeping to the shadows and being ready if anything should happen.”

Kers realized how difficult it must be to hear and understand everything he was saying. He wasn’t even sure half of his words made sense. It wasn’t until he paused to take a breath that his brain registered the changing expressions on everyone’s faces.

“So… you don’t think… he knows he’s a Borrower?” asked Mira. “You don’t think that this human took him from his parents, do you?”

“No, I… I don’t think so. I hope not. She doesn’t seem like the type to…”

“To what?” interjected Finnick. “Abduct Borrower children? Keep them like pets? Pampering and feeding and taking them out for walks?”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Kit spat as she boldly pulled her blade from her side. Both parents shot their daughter a warning glance before turning back to Kers.

“Well?”

“I didn’t have to tell you any of this, but I did,” concluded Kers. “I’m telling you because I have a plan in place to talk to the kid and to Amanda.”

“You plan on telling the human about us!” roared Finnick, also drawing his blade. Kers’ heart was in his throat. He knew this wasn’t going to go well no matter what he did, and now he had disturbed this family’s peace. Guilt ridden, Kers shook his head and let his shoulders slump.

“No, I’m not; and Amanda already knows, she just doesn’t know much. All she understands is that there was a small boy no bigger than his fingers that needed her help and she gave it. She doesn’t know about Borrowers; and, if she did, Parker might’ve gone venturing into the walls to find more Borrowers – to find me. He would be asking questions,” insisted Kers.

“So, you do plan on talking to the human?” asked Mira. Kers bit his lip and nodded mechanically.

“Trust me. I’m not looking forward to it, but it needs to be done. The only one she’s going to know about is me, and it’s only for Parker’s benefit,” insisted Kers. “I swear I will not tell Amanda about any of you or your family. The only one at risk here is me.”

No one in the family looked reassured.

“What if we don’t believe you?” asked Toulouse. Kers sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not asking you to. What I am asking for is time. I plan on talking to Amanda once they’ve moved in,” said Kers. “I swear I will keep your family safe. If I had known there were going to be others living here, I would’ve talked to them long ago. That was my mistake.”

Toulouse looked to Kers and then to the rest of his family. With a wary eye and a threatening stare, Toulouse gestured to the door. It made Kers’ heart sink into his shoes.

“I think you’d better leave; and I swear if you put my family in danger, you will live to regret it.” The oath of a father’s protection was a strong one, and Kers knew it.

“I won’t put any of you in danger, you have my word. I’ll keep to the floorboards beneath the kitchen if that’s alright,” said Kers.

“It is fine,” said Toulouse.

Kers knew the time for words was gone. He stood and carefully walked back toward the door, snagging his belongings on his way out.

It was far from how he wanted his first introduction to go, but it was necessary he talk to them about this right off the bat. Kers couldn’t imagine what their reaction would have been if they found Parker all on their own.

Defeat was only one of many words expressing Kers’ emotions as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulders once more and headed out of the front door. If there was more evidence needed for him to have an honest conversation with Amanda, now would be the time. Heart heavy, he headed for the space beneath the kitchen to set down his things and, hopefully, find the words he needed to use to talk to Amanda.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Meanwhile, in the home, the Borrower family was a flurry of emotions. None of them knew whether Kers was being truthful or if they were in danger. Immediately, their father ordered them to prepare a few go bags with essentials.

While they knew running here and now would be the best option for them, they also were reluctant to leave their home so readily when Kers could have been telling the truth.

They would be ready.

They were prepared.

Nothing was going to happen; at least they hoped.

Kit, however, was very vocal about her thoughts on the matter.

“Dad, we can’t just leave him! He’s one of us! He’s a Borrower, and he’s been taken. We need to rescue him!” insisted the teen.

“Kit, we can’t risk going down there now. If Kers has a trap planned with the human and it involves that boy, we need to stay as far away from both of them as possible.” Toulouse sighed and leaned heavily against the char at the kitchen table. “I was such a fool to invite in a stranger so quickly.”

Mira stepped up beside her husband and rubbed his back with sympathetic affection.

“You didn’t know, love,” she said.

“Mom! We can’t just leave him,” argued Kit.

“We have to wait and see what’s going to happen. I know it’s hard, but we can’t go down there without a plan,” Mira said. Frustrated, Kit stormed off to her room. Finnick and Reed, who were nearby, looked at their parents anxiously.

“So, we’re just going to leave him? If we need to run?” asked Finnick. Both parent shook their head.

“No, we won’t leave him if it can be helped. We just need time to figure this thing out first. We can’t act rashly. We need to find out if Kers is telling the truth and whether this boy is in danger or not,” replied Toulouse.

Silently, he hoped his certainty came of as confidence despite how he actually felt. Both Borrower parents couldn’t imagine having any of their children taken by a human. They also couldn’t imagine what it was like for Parker growing up with a human, if that was what really had happened.

In all reality, they were unsure of whether they could help the Borrower boy Kers spoke of and doubted they would be able to stay in their home in the days to come.

Still, they held out hope.

And little did they know that their plans weren’t the only ones in affect.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

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Beginning

[teaveetamer]

Cap: *writes a blatantly sexist, racist, homophobic fic that is immensely popular and influential in the fandom and that many people have explicitly said made them feel uncomfortable when reading it*

Raxis: he's completely innocent everyone who says he ever did anything wrong are just hysterical liars with victim complexes

Moonlitboar: *says that they wanted Lambert to be more morally ambiguous and said they thought Sitri was happy in untagged posts that literally maybe a dozen people max ever saw*

Raxis: THEY DESERVED TO GET CANCELED THEY FUCKED AROUND AMD FOUND OUT THEY’RE AN ASSHOLE but i never did anything to them but i know who did but i won't tell anyone who that is BUT I'M COMPLETELY UNINVOLVED i just know exactly who is involved in this TOTALLY JUSTIFIED C A N C E L A T I O N (and totally not harassment because harassment is bad but cancelation to the point of harassment is fine)

LITERALLY what was the game plan here. His own logic makes it sound like he's actually completely down with Cap getting "canceled" AND he sounds like a blatant liar. Why couldn't he just shut his mouth for once

From the very beginning, no one on Tumblr has done anything that would break his personal definition of "normal" fandom participation. We're "harassing" Cap for talking about his fic and meta posts, but if you bring up Raxy's aggressive disregard for the block button, and how he disregards people directly asking him to leave them alone, he will be the FIRST to say "you put it on the internet so you have no right to be upset about me criticizing your dumbass takes".

He will stomp his feet and throw a tantrum if you say anything even remotely critical of Cap's fic's actual racist, sexist, and homophobic undertones, but Moonlit had one milquetoast opinion about Sitri and Lambert and they "deserve" a brutal cancellation. By his logic Cap should have been cancelled about a thousand times over by now; I'm giving him one cancellation for every use of "girls" to refer to grown women.

He will consistently justify his mistreatment of people with "but someone bullied Cap first" even if the person he's literally harassing has had nothing to do with Cap ever, but if you bring up what he demonstrably did to Moonlitboar it's "how dare you, you shouldn't 'mistreat' me for this thing I demonstrably did and even if I did do it then it wasn't my fault because they deserved it :/"

The truth of the matter is that Raxy doesn't give a shit. His "rules" for engagement are literally just "I should be allowed to react however I want whenever my feelings are hurt, and you should only be allowed to react in a way that doesn't hurt my feelings." Except this man is quite possibly the most fragile human being I have ever encountered and everything hurts his feelings. He genuinely thinks saying "I think Sitri lived a good life" is equivalent in hurtfulness to "I think it's okay to make genocide 'jokes' on your posts". Because the Sitri thing hurt his poor feelings, but well if someone tells me it's funny to remind me that my family died in the holocaust it's not his feelings getting hurt, so who gives a shit, just don't make him look too bad and he doesn't care. I wish I were kidding but that was LITERALLY his primary concern in that situation.

Not "hey talking about how genocide is cool is fucked up" or "hey maybe stop telling the woman who just told you that her family was impacted by the Holocaust that genocide is really funny and something to joke about"

Nope, it's "shut up you're making us look bad, and look now you woke Nilsh up! Don't you know I worked so hard to harass him into leaving social media!"

Like be for fucking real dude, you aren't slick. I can sum up everything you need to know about this guy's attitude in two images:

His logic looks like a mess of spaghetti because it is. Because he works backward from a conclusion ("I should be allowed to do whatever I want and no one should be allowed to do anything I don't like") and he inserts justifications as he goes, with no regard for whether or not it actually makes sense. He went from "Moonlit deserved it because they had bad takes" to "Moonlit was actually harassing me" to "I didn't actually do it anyway" to "I know exactly who did it but I won't say but it wasn't that bad" to now, apparently, "there's a conspiracy against me". He just relies on no one looking closely enough at him to notice the clear pattern. If someone does suss it out he tries to harass them into shutting up about him or he tries to delete evidence of his past logic and behavior (all the better if the person he's harassing deletes everything too, because then he can just make shit up).

The thing that really gets me is like, just how clearly unable to function he is without someone he absolutely hates to bounce off of. Does he even make original posts, or does he just constantly whine about other people's opinions? Every post I've ever seen from him about 3H, even the ones that aren't reblogs or don't have screenshots included, are like 99% "someone had an opinion I didn't agree with! Allow me to debunk it!" posts. The other 1% are recycled talking points from other people's metas, which he writes like he's got a 5,000 word paper due tomorrow that he hasn't even started and he's trying to see how much "slightly reword the wikipedia entry" he can get away with.

And not even speaking just about Raxy, but this is what pisses me off so bad about certain people in fandom. They feel empowered to harass and bully the genuinely awesome, creative people who actually make things. Those people leave, and then they have the audacity to sit there and whine about how the fandom is dead, no one is making anything, everyone left for greener pastures. They suck the life out of vibrant communities and leave nothing but a hollowed out husk. It happened with a ton of fan artists and authors in 3H, including some I'm friends with, who just had to get the fuck out because of the damage it was causing their mental health. And before he says it, no. Saying "Cap's (a white man) fic has some kinda racist and uncomfy undertones I wish he'd take some criticism to heart and correct that" is not the same thing as stalking someone and sending death threats because they have a different opinion about your favorite character. Holy fuck.

Like hey wanna know why no one wants to talk about 3H anymore? Because of this shit. Because saying "I think Lambert doing Morally Complex things is Morally Complex and therefore interesting" is the kind of opinion that can get you harassed into leaving the fandom entirely.

[ameagrice]

heyy so I saw your post being like America wtf and I totally agree bc I’m devastated, I live in a red state and people out here are fr all over trump it’s actually so fucking bad. as far as for the amount of traction that Kamala had, it was real, but people are liars man. Like genuinely. people say they’re voting blue or are undecided but vote red bc they don’t want people to know that they’re voting for trump. Also, gen z guys in america are all buying into red pill bullshit pushed by conservative podcast bros who are trump supporters. It’s literally just shitty as fuck. Also, women who voted for trump. I actually don’t have a reason they just fucking suck. Also racism and misogyny is totally rampant

First of all, I want to say I’m so sorry to the women and people of colour over there. What’s happening and what is likely to happen is absolutely not okay in the slightest. Everyone here is heartbroken for you all. I cried for you all last night and I was not the only one.

I absolutely loved watching Kamala Harris’s rallies live on tv, and followed along on TikTok and Instagram. I think we all genuinely had some hope for a while, and I hope she runs again. In her speech last night it definitely sounded like this isn’t the last we’ll see of her, so although Trump is here for another four years take comfort in that he can never get in again after this.

Secondly, racism and misogyny are rampant everywhere at the minute. In the UK it has always been a big thing in daily life and I can’t think of one day or one age of my life where I didn’t encounter misogyny and sexism, it’s just increasing. But with the Trump win in the states I’m so fucking scared for you guys. Really. I wish there was something we could do. The whole election win felt so off and wrong and honestly I think they need to do a recount.

You all have my best wishes and I’m here for support. All the best 💛

[yingren]

❛  actually i'm a liar, i'd let a lot of men get it. ❜

* ― 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃.

“ oh, i know. ” the response comes automatically, though laced with a trace of amusement in his voice. of course, only sampo would say something like that—a statement so shameless it almost seems effortless. good, ren thinks, at least there’s some honesty in this absurd man he seems to be spending far too much time with lately. still, ren rationalizes it. there’s always a reason for their encounters. it’s not some nonsense about fate or destiny tying their lives together; no, if anything, their meeting was pure coincidence.

not too long ago, ren would have been quick to fire back with a sarcastic remark, something sharp and biting in response to a comment like that. but today, he simply lets it slide, an odd sense of familiarity settling in. he’s grown used to sampo’s antics much quicker than he expected, and, surprisingly, he finds himself enjoying the random conversations that spring up when they’re together.

his gaze drops to the uneven stone slabs beneath their feet as he carefully navigates the path ahead. in his hands, he still holds a small bowl of dessert—something called rye bread soda iceberg, or at least that’s what he thinks it’s called. it’s not bad, even though sweets have never really been his thing. still, the way it melts on his tongue is pleasant enough to keep him eating.

“ but that guy, really ? isn't he... a bit old ? i think you could do better. i mean, i shouldn’t be that surprised, ” the hunter finds himself grinning as he digs his spoon into the cold dessert, his head turning just enough to steal a glance at the blue-haired man beside him, catching the glint of green in his eyes. it’s curious, he thinks, how no matter how hard he tries, he can never quite read those eyes. sometimes he thinks he’s figured them out, only for the illusion to break when sampo throws yet another curveball his way. with a small but overly dramatic sigh, he continues the same line of thought, though this time he gives sampo his full attention. his next words are delivered in a playful tone, and with a light nudge of his elbow, he taps sampo’s side.

“ you kissed me so your standards can’t be that high. ”

[metalmonki]

Supernatural, Hunting, Living and Love (Revisited)

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

3k word count

summary While exploring a haunted house your friend told you about, you have a chance encounter with a pair of brothers who give you a crash introduction to their world.

fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers

warnings mention of grave desecration (this is illegal don't do it!)

Note So I remembered my Mibba log-in and found this embarrassment of a story along with a long list of other equally embarrassing stories. I decided to challenge myself to edit and rewrite the stories and post them here. I will also include a link to the original story so you can read it in all it's cringy glory. This was a story from 2009 that I wrote with 2 friends of mine that we never completed. Once I have decringed the story I will finish it here. Enjoy I guess.

Original / Next Chapter

For some dumb reason, I had decided it would be fun to check out the creepy abandoned house down the road from my friend Linsey's house. At the time, it had seemed like a great idea. Everyone was always talking about how the house was haunted. The neighbourhood rumour was that the father had annihilated the last family to live in the house. But, of course, there was no proof of this. Linsey refused to go anywhere near the house and had chosen to stay home. I, however, convinced my friend Theresa to join me for this stupid adventure. Things had started out okay. Getting entry to the house was easy enough. We pulled out our phones, giggled, and recorded as we walked through a place frozen in time, joking about how this would make us Facebook famous. After we made our way to the second floor, things changed. The air upstairs was icy cold compared to the blistering heat outside. A large bang came from downstairs. Theresa noped out and took off from the house, to my best guess. All I know is she took off running down the stairs before I even had a chance to process the bang. Instead of following, I froze. I stood in the doorway to what looked to be a bedroom staring wide-eyed at the staircase, trying to gain the courage to run downstairs.

"Quick in here," said a voice breaking me from my trans.

I ran towards the voice. I saw two guys, clearly brothers, hiding in the small closet in the room. I squeezed into the closet with them. I took a moment to look at them in the light of a flashlight one of them was holding. The one I guest to be the older one had short dark blonde hair and a small amount of stubble. I guessed him to be around 6’1’; meanwhile, the one I took to be the younger brother had longer, fluffy light brown hair and was clean-shaven. He was easy 6’4 pushing 6’5. You know what they say the older sibling is always the shortest sibling.

“What are you doing in here?” The shorter one asked.

“I was exploring with my friend. We just heard the rumours about the place being haunted and wanted to check it out,” I said, throwing my arms about in frustration as much as possible in the small space. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, exploring just like you,” The tall one said, looking nervously between his brother and me.

“Oh, that’s a lie. You are a terrible liar. What are your names?" I asked as the older brother snickered behind me. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam," said the older one. "I'm Y/n," I said. “Now, what are you really doing here?” I asked looking between them.

“Hunting a ghost”, Dean blurted out.

“Dean” Sam looked at him, frustrated.

“What? She walked herself into this. She should know what's going on. We can’t get her out of here safely otherwise” Dean pointed his open hand at me. “Uh, hello right here. Would you care to explain” I huffed, putting my hands on my hips.

Dean sighed, getting frustrated looks from Sam, but he explained everything. It sounded like the ramblings of a crazy man, or men in this case. Dean explained that people had been reporting getting attacked and followed home. Some people had even been reportedly killed in the house. This was nothing I had ever heard before nor had it come up in my research. Truthfully, my research was a 20 minute google search. I wasn’t from the area and wouldn’t know about the place if it wasn’t for Linsey. We lived 5 suburbs apart, so there was no reason for me to be anywhere near this house. Dean explained what they do and how they ended up in Sydney, Australia. I would have said he was lying and crazy, but he seemed honest. He truly believed everything he was saying. And it felt like I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay, so if everything you're saying is true, what do we do?” I asked

“You don’t do anything. We need to figure out where the body is and burn it,” Dean said pointing a finger between himself and Sam.

“The whole family who lived here last is buried in the local cemetery in a family tomb,” I said like it was common knowledge.

“Wait, how did you find that out?” Sam asked

“I googled it”, I shrugged. “I just want to know if the rumours were true, so I googled. Their burial place was like the first google result” I shrugged.

“Rumours?” Dean asked

“That the father murdered his whole family,” I said. “I couldn’t find anything, but they all died in this house the same night.”

“So, there is a chance daddy dearest ganked them all,” Dean said

“Well, that’s what the police were thinking, but they didn’t have enough proof,” I said

“Well, looks like we need to burn dear old Dad”, Dean smirked at Sam.

“First, we need to get out of the house,” Sam said

The whole time we had been standing around talking I could feel a cool breeze from what was supposed to be the solid wardrobe wall behind us. I turned to face the wall of the closet and ran a finger along the seem where I could feel the air. I pressed along the wall praying it was in fact what I thought it was, a hidden door. Thankfully it popped open, revealing a hidden stairs case. Most likely a servant staircase. I silently cheered and led the way down the stairs. At the bottom was a door that led into the kitchen, and in the kitchen was a backdoor. Once we were somewhat safe in the yard, I let Dean and Sam lead the way to wherever they were going. They walked out into a back alley behind the house. Sitting in the alley was a beautiful looking 67 Chevy Impala. I giggled to myself before hearing another person squealing from the other side of the car.

"Theresa" I questioned, peaking around the car. "Y/n," she said, running over to me pulling me into a hug. "Are you okay?" I asked looking her over. "I'm fine," Theresa said. "Thank god," I sighed. “Where the hell did you go? And why did you abandon me?”

“Outside, duh, I ran out through the kitchen and then was going to run down the alley to Linsey’s, but I spotted this beauty. Can you believe there is another one identical to yours?” Theresa squealed “Oh and yeah so sorry about leaving you behind, autopilot you know”.

“No, I can’t”, I smiled “Also your forgiven just don’t do it again”.

“Okay, enough with the weirdness”, Dean spoke up. “Who is she, and why is she looking at baby?”

“Oh, this is my friend Theresa the one I was exploring with.” I said, “Theresa, this is Sam and Dean. Who is baby?” Dean waved a hand at the car like it was obvious.

“Oh great, so she was in the house too,” Sam said completely ignoring everything else.

“Well, Theresa looks like you're coming with us,” Dean said, hoping in the car.

“Can we go get my car before we take off?” I asked while getting into the car.

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“Parked out the front of the house,” I said.

Dean sighed, put the Impala in drive and drove around the front of the house. As soon as we rounded the corner, Dean spotted my Impala. He smirked and chuckled, almost surprised that I had the same car as him. We pulled up in front of my car just long enough for Theresa and me to jump out of Deans car and into mine. Dean motioned out his window for me to lead the way. The late afternoon sky bled into twilight as we reached the cemetery. A thrill, tinged with defiance, shot through me as I saw the locked gates. Nighttime visits were strictly forbidden, and the council was none too happy about the recent wave of skateboarders and trill seekers. But the gate seemed to be a normal hindrance to the boys. With practiced ease, they vaulted the gate, their laughter echoing off the ancient stones. I scanned the perimeter, spotting a hidden gap in the fence, and followed them through, a hint of apprehension mixed with the excitement.

 I walked the boys over to the family tomb. The tomb was opened, the door clearly having been broken in a long time ago. They asked us to wait outside while they set to working inside. The boys had a worn duffle with them, out of which they pulled out salt, petrol and a crowbar. The family had been placed in their coffins into the wall with a limestone name plate marking each person’s final resting place. Dean managed to pry the nameplate for the father off the wall exposing the coffin which was quite decayed. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed by Deans strength. Sam covered the casket in petrol while Dean covered it in salt as best they could through the small opening. Once the casket was covered as it could be, Dean threw a lit matchbook into the hole. The coffin burst into flame quickly heating the small mausoleum.  

“Well, that should be all done,” Dean said. “But to be safe, we should return to the house and check. You two, however, will go to our hotel and wait for us.” Dean tossed us the keys

I caught them in one hand turning them over to read the hotel name off the tag and chose not to argue. I nodded at him and headed back towards the cars. Theresa and I drove straight to the hotel. I was silently ruminating over the day’s events while Theresa was hardly managing to sit still and rambling on about Sam. We found their room and let ourselves in. The room was basic, 2 queen beds, a lounge, table, chair and tv on one of those hotels’ typical built-in stands. The first thought through my head was I hope to God we don’t have to spend the night because I was not one to share a bed with a complete stranger and the lounge looked uninviting.

“Hay, which do you think is Sam's bed?” Theresa broke me from my thoughts.

“I don’t know. Why do you want to know?” I asked confused.

“I don’t know, I just want to lay on Sam's bed. He so cute, uh, I think I’m in love,” Theresa swooned, dropping into the chair.

“Oh, dear god, woman, you fall in love too quickly.” I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t help it. Did you see him? That man clearly looks after himself.” Theresa giggled.

“Yeah, and so does Dean, but you don’t see me swooning over him. I really don’t get you sometimes”.

I flopped onto the bed, squeezing my eyes shut against the relentless drone of Theresa's voice. Every syllable about Sam felt like a grating record needle stuck on repeat. All I craved was escape, the sweet oblivion of a normal life. Finish my acting degree, build a portfolio, disappear into the anonymity of a bustling city. A sharp rap on the door jolted me awake. Theresa, mid-sentence, pivoted toward the sound. Her smile faltered for a fleeting moment before she plastered it back on and cautiously cracked the door open. A hushed exchange followed, punctuated by muffled figures I couldn't quite see. Relief washed over me when I saw Dean and Sam enter the room. Their presence was a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

“You comfortable on my bed?” Dean asked a smirked on his face as he shed his leather jacket onto the foot of said bed.

“Very. I was having a nice little nap before you so rudely woke me up” I stretched out on the bed.

“Well, sorry, ma’am.” Dean laughed, giving a goofy salute.

“On to more serious things, we saw scorch marks at the house indicating that we may have gotten rid of this thing, but we would like you to stay here overnight just in case” Sam looked between us. Definitely the serious brother, I noted.

“Oh yeah, and where are we supposed to sleep?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You girls, take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Dean smiled.

“Are you sure?” I asked not wanting to be rude.

“Not the first time I slept in a chair won’t be the last” Dean shrugged “It’s kind of part of the job description”.

“You have a job description?” I joked.

“Not really we kind of just making it up as we go” Dean shrugged giving me a wink.

Theresa, ever the optimist, quickly engaged Sam in conversation. Her laughter, a welcome sound, filled the room. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

"Alright everyone, hold that thought," Dean boomed, his voice a welcome interruption. His stomach let out a loud rumble, punctuating his statement. "We all must be starving after that little...adventure. I'm gonna hit the shops for some supplies. Anything in particular tickle your fancy, y/n?"

“Buyers choice” I smiled at him, he winked back before leaving the room.

I rolled my eyes playfully as Theresa bombarded Sam with questions. Their easy banter was a testament to her ability to move on. "What happened, happened," she'd always say. Maybe she was right. Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. I wrapped myself in Dean's blanket, the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent a strangely comforting reminder of normalcy. The weariness in my bones finally won over my racing thoughts, and I drifted back to sleep, the gentle murmur of conversation a lullaby in the background.

“Just making yourself right at home now, aren’t you?” Dean chuckled, walking in the door, startling me awake again.

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and part of me is hoping this is all a bad dream,” I groaned looking at the ceiling.

“Sorry, sweetheart, this pretty face is as real as it gets”, Dean shot me a cheesy grin. “Now get up and eat. Grubs getting cold.”

Dean dropped four bags of McDonalds on the table and almost immediately went to complaining about the tiny size of the burgers here and he had to order an obscene amount of them just to fill himself up. Sam just shook his head clearly; this was a complaint Sam had heard a few times too many. I on the other hand just pointed out that he could have gone to any of the fish and chip shops he had gone past on his way to McDonalds and brought a single burger like 4 times the size of the McDonalds ones. Dean being oh so mature put on a high-pitched voice mocking what I had said before murmuring shut-up and starting on the first of a stack of 6 burgers he had brought himself. I begrudgingly pulled myself out of the bed and made my way to the table. Dean had ordered burgers for me and Theresa and a salad for Sam. I gave Sam a questioning look as he murmured something about it being the healthier choice before walking away. Sam and Theresa went back to his bed where they continued their conversation while Dean and I ate in silence. I had taken a seat on the lounge and occasionally glanced up at Dean who would just smile at me with a mouth full of food. I would also catch him watching Sam and Theresa a small smile etched on his face like he was happy to see his brother happy. When Dean had finished the last of his burgers he stood up and started walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower and get ready to turn in it’s been a long day” Dean rubbed his face in exhaustion.

“Okay well Theresa did you want to catch a movie or something?” Sam asked looking at Theresa.

“Sure” Theresa bounced of the bed and practically ran at the door.

I followed Sam and Theresa out of the room so I could get the spare clothes out of my car that I carried around in there. It became a habit I picked up running from audition to audition to have a go bag in my car with anything in it I might need. I went back into the room and took the chance while Dean was in the bathroom to quickly change into a comfy pair of shorts and a loose shirt. I sat back on Dean's bed, but instead of laying down, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet as I continued to think about everything. Theresa seemed so comfortable and at home with the boys, but I just wanted this whole thing over. But the more I thought, the more I felt like I would never be able to go back to things as they were. Knowing what could be out there, I would always be a little on edge. If ghosts were real, then what else possibly existed? Vampires? Werewolves? What about all the silly kid stories like Bloody Mary and Candyman? Could they be real? I wanted to pretend that none of this had happened, but it’s not exactly something you can forget like a footnote. Like yeah, that shit happened, but let's just pack up and move on. At some point during my inner struggle Dean had finished his shower and made himself comfortable on the lounge. It wasn’t until Dean cleared his throat that I was snapped out of my thoughts.

“Okay, I’m not going to be able to sleep with you sitting on the edge of the bed like that. It’s kinda creepy. What's on your mind, kid?” Dean asked, sitting up on the lounge.

“Kid? I’ll have you know I’m 22, not exactly a kid anymore” I tried to joke looking over at Dean, noticing he was in nothing but a black t-shirt and black boxer briefs.

“Okay, sweetheart, doesn’t answer my question, though”, Dean smirked.

“How am I supposed to go back to life as it was knowing ghosts, and who knows what else is real?” I looked back at the floor. “What exactly does exist Dean? Vampires? Werewolves? Demons? Angels?” I rattled off a list of things randomly looking back up at him.

“Yeah, those and more” Dean chuckled dryly. “As for moving on the simple answer is you don’t. You just go on and try to live as normal as possible, knowing people like Sammy and I are out here hunting these things to keep you safe. Hopefully, that helps you sleep a little better at night.”

“Can you talk to me while we go to sleep?” I asked sheepishly.

“Of course, sweetheart”, He groaned as he laid back on the lounge. I finally laid down on the bed. Both of us staring at the ceiling as we talked.

“You never told me your last name,” I said it was a random question but anything to keep the conversation going and my mind busy.

“Winchester and yours?”.

“Y/l/n”.

“Well, now I know who to look up next time I’m in town”, Dean chuckled.

“How old are you anyway I mean clearly you’re the old sibling”

“Not too old to hit on a hottie like you” I could feel Dean's eyes on me as he spoke.

“Smooth Winchester” I tried to laugh, but it just sounded like an awkward giggle.

“31”

“You’re a real ladies' man, aren’t you, Dean Winchester” I smiled to the ceiling, getting taken by his charm.

“Yeah, well, when you have my lifestyle, you don’t exactly have the option of settling down, so you take what you can get.”

“No judgement here”

Dean and I laughed for what felt like hours. Under his tough exterior, he was adorable. I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t be sad to say goodbye tomorrow. My eyes could no longer fight to stay open, and I drifted to sleep listening to Dean singing Highway To Hell. The following morning, I woke to find the room completely empty. I got up and changed into something else from my go bag. Nothing fancy, just plain black jeans and a white tank top. I pulled on my boots and headed outside to check for the cars. My car was sitting where I parked it right before the door. Dean's car was gone, though. I pulled out my phone and rang Theresa guessing she was with them. I mean where else would she be, she couldn’t exactly get home without me. Rather than answer the phone she shot me a text message. Busy talking to Sam, we’re just down the road at the all you can eat. I rolled my eyes allowing myself to have a genuine laugh at her. I knew the place she was talking about. It was only 2 blocks away so who knows why Dean decided to drive. I left my car where it was and made the 5-minute walk. I felt a lot better than I had the night before. As much as it felt weird to put my trust in strangers, I really did trust Sam and Dean. Once I was outside the restaurant it didn’t take me long to spot them. Dean gave me a goofy wave through the window while sending me a ‘, please save me’ look. I giggled making my way into the restaurant and over to their table. "Hey guys," I said as I took a seat at the table. "Hey, sleepy head," Dean gave a big cheesy smile. "Hey", Theresa and Sam said in unison. "So, whose food can I steal," I said, tummy grumbling looking between the plates. "I made sure we paid for you too, you know just in case you decided to grace us with your presence” Dean smirked giving me a wink. "Thank you, such a gentleman" I gave him a wink back before heading to the food.

Dean followed me over with his almost empty plate. I could hear Sam call after him “Dude seriously are you still hungry”. I chuckled and shook my head at the brothers. Dean came to stand beside me as we loaded up our plates.

“So,” Dean said, putting way too much bacon on his plate “, I guess after this, we go our separate ways,” He said more of a statement than a question.

“I guess so”, I smiled at him. “But hey, you said you’d look me up next time you were in town, so don’t be a stranger now, you hear.”

“Yes, ma’am”, Dean chuckled “Just promise me you’ll go back to your normal life”.

“I promise” I smiled at him.

We had an excellent breakfast filled with conversation about what came next for Sam and Dean. They were headed back home to the US now the job was done. It seemed like this was goodbye forever. We finished our breakfast, and Dean drove us back to the hotel. Theresa and I packed up our things before giving them a heartfelt goodbye. We hopped in my car, going home back to life before the Winchesters. But we knew things would never be the same, not now. Some small piece of me hoped I would see the Winchesters again.

[coockie8]

Hi, I need your help with something. I've encountered what might be the worst case of fatphobia I've ever seen and I'm so aghast by what I'm seeing that I can't even figure out how to respond.

There is this notorious right-wing Trump supporter on this site called r4cs0. Apparently he was a "Tumblr famous" anti-SJW blog back in about 2016 and he has developed quite a reputation for spreading hate and bigotry on this site. He regularly engages in ableism by calling people the R-slur and sometimes even the U-slur. He has posted all sorts of homophobic and transphobic stuff, including harassing minors who list pronouns in their profiles. And someone said he has posted dendrophobia too, but I wasn't even familiar with that kind of bigotry (so he must be really far off the deep end to hate something I don't even know about).

Anyway, he lives in Idaho and apparently the Idaho legislature is currently trying to "reform" property taxes in the state, because a lot of the rich Mormons who donate to politicians there are complaining about how they don't want their property taxes to go to public schools. So enter r4cs0 who naturally has a hot take on how to fix this "problem." He says that being fat is unhealthy and is a burden on the healthcare industry, so fat people should be taxed for being fat! His proposal is that everyone would be required to go to a "weigh station" four times a year to get weighed, and anyone over their BMI would have to pay a "sin tax" for being fat!!

And on top of all this, whenever r4cs0 is accused of bigotry he responds that he "can't be a bigot" because he is "dating a bisexual woman!" And she is skinny, of course!

Okay, so I've done a cursory scan of this guys blog, and have found none of what you're referring to, which is claim is regular content from this blog, so in the interest of not outright calling you a bold-faced liar, I'm gonna need you to supply me with source links of this behaviour.

If it truly is as common as you claim, it shouldn't be difficult for you to supply these to me, but I am not gonna drag a stranger through the mud based on the word of an anonymous message on Tumblr. I'm gonna need verifiable proof (so links directly to posts, or at least the wayback machine, not screenshots) to go on before I even consider believing your claims.

You're the one making the accusations, therefore the burden of proof falls upon you. Send me links to the alleged homophobic, transphobic, dendrophobic (Fear of Trees?????), and fatphobic posts, and we can go from there. But until that point, I have no way of verifying whether or not you just have it out for this guy for personal reasons, or if any of this behaviour actually took place.

[koumeowkami]

🪐 no celestial ; kanallen

— chapter one

"Kanata was a poor little angel that heaven couldn't help. He'd always been a tough one, not trusting anyone but his little brother Nayuta, the only person that ever made him feel love. Growing up by themselves, he did everything in his power to protect his sick brother, things that dirtied his holy hands. "It's for a good cause though", he thought. But it wasn't enough, and Nayuta died soon after.

Kanata's soul was completely spent. He became unable to feel love, and adding to his dirty dealings that soon were found out, he got cast out of heaven. Fallen on Earth with his wings blackened, he felt so lost and empty he thought he could've just died.

But a random encounter with a very annoying, persistent, stupid redhead human boy would've made him discover love again."

1082 words

genre: supernatural, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: secondary character death

previous ✧ next

Was it really Heaven, or just Hell in disguise?

Kanata had been asking himself that many times. Everyone would think of Heaven as the place of infinite goodness, honesty and pity, but you couldn't fool a boy who lived at the border of the Celestial Kingdom, the furthest area from where God lived. To him, every angel was nothing but a people pleaser, a hypocrite, a liar. He and his twin brother Nayuta were born from a lesser angel, and on top of it, they never met their father; soon enough, their mother also abandoned them, not wanting to take that burden. "Take these" she said, "They're from your father but I have to get rid of them". A pair of snake-shaped earrings were casually set on top of the worn-out table. Snakes. The ultimate symbol of sin, definitely something angels didn't like. The two little boys were still pretty naive though, and being instantly attracted to the snake's charm, they took the earrings before being kicked out of what used to be their home.

That symbol ended up becoming part of their identity: they wore an earring each, on opposite ears, matching and showing their mutual bond as twins; but it was also that one thing that cursed their whole life. "I don't... want to play with you. You guys are... scary..." a kid backed away from the twins, absolutely terrified. No one wanted to talk to them, no one wanted to let them in their houses, no one was there to help them. Kanata swore to never trust anyone again. "This shitty world has nothing to offer us, but we'll be fine as long as we have each other" he said, hugging Nayuta while sitting on the street, "After all, together we're invincible", his brother replied, smiling tenderly at him. Kanata promised to protect Nayuta, the only person he really loved, no matter if he had to sacrifice himself for that. And so he did.

But then things got worse.

Living in the streets wasn't easy, and Nayuta, who was born weaker than his twin, eventually got sick. They couldn't afford any medicine, if not illegally, but Kanata didn't care much: a promise was a promise. He got in contact with a demon, who despite his evil nature immediately felt like wanting to protect the twins. "I can't help yer lil bro directly," the man said, feeling somewhat sad of his own statement, "but ya can work for me, though. Don't worry kid, I'll pay ya well". Since that moment, Kanata worked secretly for that demon, every night, while Nayuta was asleep.

But by the time he had his hands on that medicine, it was already too late.

One day, Kanata found his little brother in such a horrible state that it made tears prickle his eyes already. The poor kid couldn't even keep his eyes open, and whispered a soft "Thank you for living with me" before passing away with a smile on his face. Kanata felt something inside of him breaking, everything in his little world was falling apart. He screamed, so much it made his throat hurt, but no one heard him. That was the very first time he cried, more and more as he engraved that smile in his memory.

A smile he would never see again.

It was a matter of days. The guardians of Heaven, called by the death of an angel, eventually found Kanata, who hadn't even attempted to hide after the small crimes he had committed on the other side. He had no reason to: he couldn't wait for this whole thing to end. He had no meaning in this world without his brother, so he could just die. Too bad for him, he was only exiled. At least he could've finally said goodbye to that Hell in which he grew up, in one way or another.

And so, he fell.

He surprisingly took a short time to get used to being a fallen angel and he couldn't really understand why. Maybe his pitch black wings suited his dirty clothes more? Or maybe he just slightly liked being fallen. After all, he couldn't care less about his past angel self: they never made him feel like one in the first place.

What he definitely couldn't get used to was how chaotic and noisy that damn city was. All those people talking and laughing, all those weird metal carriages making an absurd amount of noise, he couldn't stand any of that. He just wanted to let himself die in peace and be alone. He wandered around the city all day, trying to leave no traces and be unnoticed: he really didn't have the time to deal with stupid humans asking him a bunch of dumb questions about angels. Night came, and the city finally became quiet. Kanata found a nice and well-kept park in which he could get some rest; it wasn't closed, but no one was around anyways, so it was fine.

Or so it was... for about half an hour.

Allen was late again. This time he really had no excuses, he'd been brainstorming on his new song for the past four hours at the studio and didn't move until he successfully finished it. He didn't even realize it was 2 AM, and he was oh so sure he would've received an earful from his two roommates as soon as he stepped into their apartment. He couldn't quite get why they were so protective of him though: after all, he was 21! A raging young man ready to conquer the world through his music! Although no matter how much he argued that, he was still a baby in his friends' eyes. His curiosity and enthusiasm truly resembled one of a kid who was discovering the world for the first time. Every new thing he found, he just couldn't help staring at it in adoration, grasping its beauty.

He passed the park a few kilometers away from his house, but something instantly caught his eye: a boy whose beauty was ethereal, almost out of this world, basking in the moonlight. His long hair, white as the moon itself. His eyes, holding a whole violet-colored galaxy in them. His soft features. The redhead simply couldn't stop looking at him. "Is he... an angel?", he said mindlessly, quiet as the soft breeze of that night. As if the boy heard him, he immediately turned to him and they locked eyes.

The snake got him enchanted.

[jellogram]

I've got to be honest with you all. When you guys talk about there not being public spaces to hang out anymore I don't understand what you're talking about. Sure there's not enough benches to sit down on the sidewalk, definitely, but I have never had a shortage of hangout spots. Go to the bar. Go to the coffee shop. Go to the library. Go to the park. Go sit in the dirt next to the lake and look at ducks. Go to events at your local community center. Join local Facebook groups and go to their events. Go to local bands' shows. Join pickup games. Walk into random art galleries and talk to the staff about their art. Go to museums. Go to the mall and don't buy anything, just walk around with your friends. Some of these things require money but many do not.

I'm sure it depends on your exact location but for all the cities and small towns I lived in, I have never encountered any lack of social opportunities or public spaces to hang out. Sometimes it feels like you guys are just dealing with a lot of social anxiety that makes you not want to do these things, and that's fine, that's understandable, but that's not a reflection on the available options for hanging out.

You don't have to come at me with "But in MY hometown—" I'm not saying you're a liar. I'm just saying I find it hard to believe that there's a massive cause for alarm about public spaces when I have been traveling around the country alone and making friends everywhere I go. You guys make it sound like there's an epidemic of no one being able to hang out in public and that has never ever been my experience so it's hard for me to understand why there's such a panic.

[bropunzeling]

dvd commentary of your favorite scene in the girl!leon verse, AND/OR, any of the ducklings frat au from sonny milano's pov

ok in trying to pick a scene that was not. literally just pornography (lmao) i have selected the party at rob's, featuring the one and only captain brady

Leon sticks pretty close to Connor’s heels as they walk through the living room, nodding to guys she doesn’t know, chatting briefly with the ones she does. The one thing about being a little late to the party—and the drinking—is that everyone seems to accept her presence without question. All most of them want to talk about is whether they’ll be around next week or heading home; if they’re going to the lake at all before they have to report to camp. Leon nods her way through, but spends most of her time with her head on a swivel, on the lookout for broad shoulders and curly hair. [i have noticed that like. i love to have a scene of people going to parties and being on the lookout for someone else. it's just an emotion i associate really strongly with being twenty-something and pining and horny and having lots of big feelings. it's also good i think for like, showcasing the loneliness that comes with being in a crowd. i also liked this part because it's a little moment of like, Leon is part of this scene and this league, but also a bit a part from it. she's not someone who trains with scary gary, she's not someone who is going to be doing small talk with these people, and part of that is personality, and part of it is feelings, but also part of it is that boy's club vibe, you know?]

Eventually she gives up on staying inside. It’s too warm, has too many people she isn’t really interested in talking to. She leaves Connor with Zach, [i kept meaning to put more zach in because it seems like they're buddies! which was something i found out late in the process. sorry zach. see ya next time.] who they found by the table with the chips and dip, and heads out towards the patio. There’s still plenty of people in the back, but at least she’s outside, and there’s a bit more air, and she can grab another beer.

“Hey!”

Leon turns around, only to find herself facing Brady Tkachuk, double fisting a pair of Molsons. Brady Tkachuk, who’s smiling genially at her with an expression that makes him look unflatteringly like a cross between a chimpanzee and a baby [i know i say every joke is my favorite joke, but this may be my favorite joke. sorry brady. love you brady.] . Brady Tkachuk, who she’s only encountered sparingly, mostly when she’s trying not to get bulldozed by him and get the puck out to Connor or Kailer. [he is SUCH a wrecking ball lmao] Brady Tkachuk, who has no idea that she was fucking his brother for two and a half years. Or at least, she hopes so. [okay so my personal head canon (which, i guess it's my fic, so it's canon?) is that brady has suspected that matthew like. has had SOME sort of secret romantic thING going on, just because like, matthew is good at keeping secrets but also brady is his brother and like, matthew has had a LOT of feelings going on that will come out. but brady figured it was some normie and matthew wasn't telling him because he'd only want to say if it was ~something serious~.]

“Draisaitl! Didn’t expect to see you here,” Brady says, beaming at her.

“Uh,” Leon says intelligently. “I was in town, and Connor. You know.”

“Gotcha,” Brady says. Damn, he’s tall. She’s going to get a crick in her neck trying to maintain eye contact. “Well, good to see you. Even if Matthew might kill me for talking to you; he complains about playing against you a lot.” [matthew: gotta keep my secret not-a-relationship secret, because i said i would, and it's casual. also matthew: god leon draisaitl is so fucking annoying and skilled and keeps scoring fucking hat tricks and is so hot ]

Leon tries valiantly not to choke on her own spit and barely succeeds. “Oh?” she manages to get out. [leon the bad liar appears again! any time she has a real feeling she can't keep it off her face]

Brady laughs. “Well, guess all that doesn’t matter now. He'll have to hate Stammer instead.” He takes a sip of one of his beers, then continues, “Okay, so I know this is random, but do you mind giving me your number?”

Leon stares at him as her mind whirs, trying to catch up. “What?”

“Well, Jimmy Stu—sorry. Timmy, you know, Timmy Stützle?” Brady’s broad accent mangles the poor kid’s name; Leon winces, but he doesn’t notice. “He’s a huge fan of yours. Literally will not shut up about you, it’s kind of embarrassing—but he’d totally die if I gave him your number.” [timmy stu absolutely has an idiotic and horrible crush on leon that he will get over when he actually spends a weekend with her. timmy stu ALSO has an idiotic and horrible crush on his own captain that he will not be getting over any time soon.]

Leon has a fuzzy memory of watching the 2020 Draft and texting her dad about the kid from Germany who also went third. She knows she’s played against Stützle, obviously, but clearly his face hadn’t stuck with her. Doesn’t matter. She can be nice. “Yeah,” she replies. “Yeah, that’s—I can do that.” [i think one of the things i liked playing with here is leon being a mentor/leader -- obviously she has that with Kailer and her other teammates; in the secret future i have not written she definitely has this with rookies on her future team (esp esp if they're also girls in the league); she wants to be able to pay things forward, especially for people she feels similar to in terms of not being offered the same kind of respect and deference as other players]

“Sweet.” Brady beams at her again; Leon’s still reminded of monkeys, but in a more endearing way. [there is a line in an eva ibbotson book that describes someone's smile as a mix between an angel saying, behold! and a monkey offering someone a nut. anyways. i think about that in relation to brady] Maybe Matthew was right when he said Brady grows on people. “Thanks, Drai. I know it’ll mean a lot to him.”

“Leon,” Leon says, as she accepts the phone Brady manages to pull out without spilling his beers and starts typing in her number. “Just call me Leon.” [one thing that was fun to play with in this fic (less apparent right here but) was nicknames! obviously we now know that "only my friends call me drai" but for this version of leon, i liked having a team nickname (leo) and a family nickname (leonie) and what opponents call her (draisaitl) and then what matthew calls her (leon)]

“Leon it is.”

“Here you go.” Leon hands back his phone, then takes a sip of her own beer. She’s starting to get nervous again, which isn’t ideal. Maybe another sip will help. “Tell him I’m happy to talk.” A third sip. “Oh, and congratulations,” she adds. “On the engagement, I mean.” [god the engagement really was so perfect for this story. thank u brady for ur contributions to the narrative]

“Thank you,” Brady replies. He’s so fucking smiley; she wonders if his face has ever gotten stuck that way. "We're really excited to celebrate with everyone, you know?”

“Sure,” Leon says. She takes another sip of mediocre beer, but it doesn't make her feel better [listen. i just know in my heart that leon is a total beer snob in each and every universe, but in the way of like, she's still gonna DRINK it, she'll just complain about it.]. Brady takes her engagement comment as permission to tell her all about it.

It strikes her, as Brady starts talking about wedding planning and she nods along, that if she and Matthew were still whatever they were[she still can't say they were in a relationship yet because she is TOO NERVOUSE], if Leon hadn’t ruined everything, she already would’ve known everything Brady’s going to say. She would’ve heard about the proposal, the ring, the date, the venue options. She would’ve heard Matthew complaining about how it’s the only thing anyone will talk about, even though it’s only been a few weeks since Brady popped the question. She would’ve had a hundred texts on her phone and laughed at each one while being secretly grateful that Kim’s years away from her own wedding. The whole thing would’ve been funny, rather than jarring a sore spot between her ribs.

If she hadn’t fucked things up so badly, she might have even ended up on the fucking guest list. [leon does go to the wedding. she wears a suit. she gets trapped in conversation with some of matthew's aunts and great-aunts and various shirt-tail relatives and has to beg for freedom by staring desperately at matthew in the receiving line. half the nhl player guests aren't really sure why she's there. timmy knows, which is good, because she's seated at the sens table. taryn makes her do the macarena and then she and matthew have a lot of bubbly and sneak away to go make out.]

Jesus, she needs to get over herself.

Leon manages to check back into the conversation when Brady’s voice changes, and he waves so enthusiastically with one of his beers that she has to dodge to the side to avoid being showered in shitty Canadian lager. “Over here!” he calls, loud enough to make her ears hurt.

“Chill out, Brades,” says a familiar voice, and oh fuck, oh fuck.

She turns, and sees Matthew for the first time since they were shaking hands in the Saddledome. It steals the air out of her lungs. [hahaha girl u r so FUCKED]

Fuck, she thought she was ready. [this is obviously reflecting a motif in the previous chapter, but i think also like, isn't that so universal? you think you've managed to figure out your own feelings, figured out the logical way to get through them and react exactly how you want, and then it's like NOPE] But as she takes Matthew in—still tall enough that she has to tilt her chin to maintain eye contact, still broad, still horribly handsome—she has to admit she absolutely wasn’t. Maybe it’s yet another sign of how she hasn’t been thinking straight, but she wasn’t prepared to see Matthew and immediately want to have his skin under her palms again, to feel him laugh against her mouth. To have so much longing hit her in the gut that she can’t do anything but stare.

Judging by Matthew’s wide-eyed expression, he’s equally at sea. So that’s—that’s something, at least. [hahahaha boy u r so FUCKED] [genuinely though matthew is like, truly freaking the fuck out here. he also has been trying to get over leon, and has been kidding himself that he's succeeding at it (he reacted sooooo normally when she called him out of the blue! he did the emotionally responsible thing! he's taking care of himself and going to florida and gonna be Just Fine) and now here she is to prove that he hasn't. and even worse, she is standing next to his brother, the person who maybe knows him best after his mom.]

“Hey,” Brady’s saying, which snaps Leon back to the present, as he wraps an arm around Matthew’s shoulders and shakes him slightly. “I was just telling Leon about the wedding stuff.”

“I—oh,” Matthew says, and Leon really knows she’s fucked now, because even hearing him say that much makes her palms sweat. “Like you haven’t been doing that every day since you proposed,” he chirps weakly. [brady loves love, god, matthew is SUCH a cynic]

“Rude, Matty,” Brady says. His eyes flick between them and his forehead creases; Leon hadn’t wagered that Brady would be all that perceptive, but clearly she’d be losing money right now if she had. [the shoe has dropped for brady that there may in fact be a connection between "matthew almost definitely has some kind of secret situationship that he isn't telling me about" and "matthew did not shut up about leon draisaitl during most of the bubble season"] “Here, you can have this,” he says, pressing one of his beers into Matthew’s hand. “I’m gonna go find some food. You good if I leave you together? I mean, it’s not like you’re rivals anymore.” [obviously captain brady can tell when he's gotta give people can space! genuinely tho i think brady while bombastic and a big personality also obviously clearly has a pretty fine-tuned people sense]

“We’ll be fine,” Matthew says, still staring at Leon [he is soOoOoOo into her. he absolutely has not gotten over her but has told himself that, like a liar. rip]. Leon nods in agreement.

“Cool.” Brady nods, then gives Leon one last grin. “Nice talking to you, Leon.”

“You too,” Leon manages, and then it’s just the two of them. [:))))))))]

[laresearchette]

Saturday, April 01, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: LOVE IN THE MALDIVES (W Network) 8:00pm WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? EVERY BREATH SHE TAKES (TBD - Lifetime Canada)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CBC GEM ESCAPE TO THE COUNTRY (Season 28b)

CRAVE TV JURASSIC WORLD: DOMINION MASTER LIAR (Episodes 1-3) RISKY BUSINESS

NETFLIX CANADA 10,000 B.C. CATWOMAN CLICK CRASH DR. SEUSS’ THE LORAX GIRLS TRIP HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 JURASSIC PARK LAURENCE ANYWAYS LEGO NINJAGO: SEASON 4 CRYSTALLIZED – PART 2 LOUIS CYR, L’HOMME LE PLUS FORT DU MONDE THE MANY SAINTS OF NEWARK MIRACLES FROM HEAVEN MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – FALLOUT MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – GHOST PROTOCOL MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – ROGUE NATION NEW YORK MINUTE SHARK TALE SOMETHING’S GOTTA GIVE SUPERBAD WILD WILD WEST YOU GOT SERVED ZATHURA: A SPACE ADVENTURE WEATHER

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 2:00pm: Jays vs. Cardinals (TSN2) 4:00pm: Orioles vs. Red Sox (SN Now) 8:30pm: Rockies vs. Padres

BKT TIRES & OK TIRE WORLD MEN’S CURLING CHAMPIONSHIP (TSN) 2:00pm: Canada vs. Switzerland (TSN) 7:00pm: Canada vs. Italy

NHL HOCKEY (TSN4) 4:00pm: Jets vs. Kings (SN1) 3:00pm: Bruins vs. Flyers (CBC/SN/APTN) 7:00pm: Leafs vs. Sens (City/SNEast) 7:00pm: Hurricanes vs. Habs (CBC/SN) 10:00pm: Ducks vs. Oilers

NCAA MEN’S BASKETBALL (TSN3) 6:00pm: Final Four (TSN/TSN4) 10:00pm: March Madness: Final Four

CANADIAN FILM FEST (Super Channel Fuse) 7:00pm: POLARIZED: An encounter between two young women exposes deep prejudices.But as the pair enjoy a growing friendship, they will have to break barriers that keep them apart, or risk settling for the lives their families have laid out for them.

9:00pm: WINTERTIDE: An isolated northern city battles a plague of depression that transforms its victims into zombie-like automatons; a woman discovers that the key to immunity lies within her dreams.

NLL LACROSSE (TSN5) 7:00pm: Bandits vs. Rock

W5 (CTV) 7:00pm (SEASON FINALE): The Cash Cows; Sounds Farm:  International students are the new cash cow for Canadian universities, but students say they're getting ripped off; an Ontario farmhouse creates the sounds you hear in hundreds of blockbuster Hollywood movies.

MONSTER FAMILY (Crave) 7:20pm: Dracula's spell turns a woman and her loved ones into a vampire, a mummy, a werewolf and Frankenstein's monster.

W666 (CTV ) 7:30pm (SERIES PREMIERE): A new spin-off for the long-running Canadian newsmagazine, but entirely from the Satanist perspective. Tonight, meet the creators the Toronto Transit Commission who toil in the bowls of Hell and a profile of Anne Murray.

MLS SOCCER (TSN4) 7:30pm: Toronto FC vs. Charlottte

THE PLOT TO KILL MY MOTHER (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm:  A woman who unknowingly grew up under federal witness protection starts to question everything after her mother's murder. She decides to leave the program and find her mom's killer before he strikes again.

THE GOALIES (Slicely) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Heather is looking for love, but in the Bachelor-esque dating series, she must determine who among 20 masked-men is an actual professional hockey goalie and who is just a guy named Gord from Moose Jaw.

KEY TO LOVE (Super Channel House & Home) 8:00pm: When bookstore owner Samantha Hill starts an antagonistic relationship with a book cover model Josh, they unknowingly find an antique key in a false book that starts to unlock their true romance.

IS THIS POUTINE? (Foodie Network North) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Skilled chefs from around Canada fashion poutine to look like non-poutine items to try to fool contestants. It sounded better in the pitch meeting.

THE SPARKS BROTHERS (Movietime) 9:00pm:  Edgar Wright explores how one rock band can be successful, underrated, influential and criminally overlooked. A musical odyssey exploring five weird and wonderful decades with brothers Ron and Russell Mael, celebrating the inspiring legacy of Sparks.

JURASSIC WORLD DOMINION (Crave) 9:00pm: Four years after the destruction of Isla Nublar, dinosaurs now live and hunt alongside humans all over the world. This fragile balance will reshape the future and determine, once and for all, whether human beings are to remain the apex predators.

THE PRICE WE PAY (Starz Canada) 9:00pm:  After a pawn shop robbery goes wrong, two criminals take refuge at a remote farmhouse to let the heat die down and find something much more menacing.

MOTHERFUNKER (Super Channel Squish) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): In the continuing tradition of television series with names that sound like curse words, like “Schitt’s Creek” and “Son of a Critch” here comes “Motherfunker,” the story of a 1970's Edmonton funk band consisting of five brothers and their tour manager mom: the Motherfunker.

[barrygeuse]

a response and discussion in regards to this post because it’s a super fun analysis topic and i really want to sink my teeth into it :)

“She is, undeniably, kind of reserved, especially in the beginning… She has to be a model wife and woman and do everything the way it’s supposed to be done.”

i find the way you interpret her character very interesting. not once did i take barbara to be the reserved one of the relationship; nor did i find her to feel like she’s trying to fit into some kind of mold for womanhood.

the maitlands, as characters, are meant to be caricatures—when we first encounter them, at least—and it’s pointed out a lot. the whole ten-year plan, white wine and adult rec classes, minivan, house for sad cats: all of that is just a big archetype, the suburban dorks in love that they are.

lots of words below the cut!

“She tries to be your typical housewife… Calm, collected, demure, et cetera. She isn’t… She’s strong, and independent, and is aware of her strengths and weaknesses and failings… She wants to be normal, and sweet and kind without a stubborn streak ten miles wide.”

again: i never once saw this quality in her. she’s quieter pre-barbara 2.0, for sure, but her character has never been any sort of demure wife. she is strong and independent (in denial about her fear of having kids.) and at the same time lovingly dotes on her husband in a way that a housewife would.

i don’t think she’s ever trying to be a certain way, either, except for the family stuff. i totally hate how ready set turned out though so a lot of this stems from my insistence on the miscarriage arc being 10x better than “scared their dreams will die when they have a kid” because that is so out of character for them

she cries when they die, and admits there’s still things she wanted to do. she openly goofs around with adam during ready set and during fright of their lives, before their turning point. she’s representative of an archetype, but she’s much more three-dimensional of a character because of her impending changes.

these qualities aren’t something she’s trying to suppress, they’re something she hasn’t really even discovered she has yet.

“But at first? She’s selfish.”

this point i think sort of falls flat. she isn’t just doing this for herself, and when lydia first meets them, she scolds adam multiple times for being blunt (asking them to leave and never come back) and for roasting her dad on his interior design choices. she’s empathetic and listens to lydia happily about her mother; “you look like a normal girl to me.”

she’s doing this in part to get her house back, sure, but a lot of it is for lydia. she wants to help this kid, and the deal is two-sided—lydia’s even the one to suggest it—it’ll (supposedly) help lydia with her dad. the maitlands don’t really have the full picture, but there’s no way barb’s doing this solely for her own benefit. lydia strikes something in her from the beginning.

“And I feel like some of that niceness has been learned.”

i love this bit. you’re absolutely right. barbara wants very badly to be kind to everyone, even though she has a tendency to talk without thinking. i’m sure she was a little rascally kid, just like you’ve mentioned! her insults are witty and come fast.

“She knows how to lie and manipulate, a lot better than Adam can, that’s for sure.”

i very strongly disagree with this point. yes, it’s post-barbara 2.0, but take the entirety of the scene leading up to creepy old guy. it’s not charles or lydia who convinces beej of their affections—it’s adam. and oh, man, is he a good liar.

adam doesn’t like to lie. he thinks the best of people as much as he can and gives far too many excuses for why they’d do something bad (this is his true fault, i believe, rather than kindness).

but when pushed to because of the people he loves being in harm’s way, adam is a damn good liar. and barbara pales in comparison. she can’t commit to the lie in that scene at all. you’d assume barbara to be better at lying and manipulating (out of the two, not that they’re good at it lmao) but i think she’s a bad liar by nature.

“[Her ability to be unkind] is why she has an easier time doing what Beetlejuice shows them.”

i think that the reason barbara is much faster to pick up on these things has to do much more with her adaptability and confidence than her morality.

adam is not a people person. he’s got anxiety and it takes barbara opening up for him to realize what he’s capable of. she’s already got this spark of creativity and rowdiness, so she takes to the mischief of haunting faster than adam because she feels more comfortable in herself than he does.

i do think she could be scary if she tried, but after seeing what beetlejuice did and everything she went through, i really don’t think she’d want to “learn” how to be really scary. if she needed to, she’d figure it out on her own.

i like bunny’s comment about the haunted house, though: when it comes to tricks, she’s all for it. as long as no one gets hurt, she is ready to put some maaaajor shit together. lydia’s absolutely delighted by this, and they grow really close through it, especially by talking about emily together. it’s sort of like a memorial, but with jumpscares.

barbara is resourceful. she may not be as quick-thinking as her husband is, but she’s a lot craftier, and miles bolder. her hesitancy to scare comes from a fear of breaking away from what she used to be, because that would mean she didn’t live her life to the fullest. and that is something way scarier than ghosts or demons ever could be.

genuinely i think if babs had enough time to learn (like longer than one musical number beej come ON) she could be scary. she grabs that severed head and she's the first one to learn the voice trick and during the dinner party she's having a good time. she's just too nice to do it maliciously but come halloween time? oh my god she's pulling so many tricks for lydia's haunted house

No, I think you're on to something.

Out of the two Maitlands, Barbara is always the first to change. The first to decide, "hey, what we're doing isn't working, we need to try something different." The first to do.

She's the one who starts with the Maitlands 2.0, as Barbara 2.0. She's the one who decides that they have to try to haunt the house because if not them, then who else? They're dead, fuck it! They can do what they want!

I think there's something holding her back. And, no, Adam, as reserved as he is, isn't it. It's her own reservations. She is, undeniably, kind of reserved, especially in the beginning. She has to act a certain way, do the right things in the correct steps, she has to be a model wife and woman and do everything the way it's supposed to be done. Get married to someone she loves? Check. Have a house, get hobbies, start a family? Check, check, and they're... uh they're working on it. Fall through their floor and die? Check--wait what?

She's tries to be your traditional housewife, you know? Calm, collected, demure, et cetera. She isn't, and we do see that throughout the musical, especially in the part where she picks up the head and immediately starts messing with it, or when she's the one who decides fuck it, we're doing this. She's strong, and independent, and is aware of her strengths and weaknesses and failings.

And yet, she doesn't want to accept this. She wants to fit the model mold of a housewife. She wants to be normal, and sweet and kind without a stubborn streak ten miles wide. But she is a little stubborn, and selfish at times, and a a tad narrow-minded occasionally. She isn't perfect, she can't fit into a mold.

Barbara is intuitive. Upon meeting Lydia she can tell something is UP. She knows that this teenager isn't okay, and yet, she agrees to help her not because she thinks that it'll actually help Lydia heal, but because she wants her house back. She wants her old life back. When it doesn't work and she realizes that this isn't what she wants, she changes, and wants to be there for Lydia. But at first? She's selfish.

I agree with you whole-heartedly, that out of her and Adam, she'd be the first one to get being scary down pat. She has a better grasp as to how things work, but as you said, she's too nice.

And I feel like some of that niceness has been learned. It's not fake, she is, genuinely, a really sweet ghost, but she had to work to get to that point. Because she does have a few moments where she isn't nice. She knows how to put her foot down, and she knows how to lie and manipulate, a lot better than Adam can, that's for sure. And that isn't something someone can just, suddenly be good at. Something tells me she used to be quite a little stinker when she was younger. Not mean, never malicious, but definitely mischievous.

It's like. You can be nice, but not kind. Or you can be kind, but not nice. And Barbara is nice. She is very nice. But she isn't always kind. She isn't above calling Beetlejuice names. ("That meaty pervert was right.") Adam tries to be rude but instead just says that Beetlejuice needs a therapist, he is both kind and nice to a fault. Barbara is downright kind of mean about him, but in a nice way. She is nice, but not kind.

She could easily use her occasional lack of kindness and be scary. But she... doesn't want to be unkind. Because that's not something people do. Everytime she's unkind she seems to regret it, even just a little, like she doesn't mean to be unkind it just happens. She tries not to curse, and to be a good person, but deep down she isn't always and she is aware of this.

It's why she has an easier time (not an EASY time, mind you, but easier than Adam) doing what Beetlejuice shows them. Like letting her death bother her, or using ghostly abilities. But also why she seems almost hesitant, at first, to do so.

And if she just accepted that sometimes its okay to be a little unkind, if its for the right reasons, then maybe she'd be right there with Beej scaring people for fun.

I don't know if any of that made sense. I won't apologize for it but uh... yeah. Hope this is what you were looking for.

One hundred percent, though, Adam decides he doesn't want to be scary but Barbara wants to try. And so when you have your inevitable 'Beetlejuice comes back', she wants him to teach her how to be a proper ghost, how to be really scary. And he does, and now that her entire heart is in it, she can do much better.

She's still too nice, though, and can't put her all into it, but it's much better than ripping some sheets and ghostly wailing.