#i think i have wednesday off?

[breawycker]

Enid sniffing Wednesday repeatedly before proclaiming “you’re about to have a vision” then catching her before she hits the ground

Oooh I love this and her like growling at anyone who gets close to Wednesday when she's out. I've seen some angst-y art of Enid laying next to Wednesday worrying while Wednesday is in a vision and I just want to write something where Enid is just ready for her to wake up with some water because she knows that Wednesday's visions are often intense and having water and seeing Enid's face helps ground her. I like the idea of Enid's like inner wolf falling for Wednesday before her human self even realizes and then it hits her and she's like "oh wow 😳"

[saltpepperbeard]

BE CONTROVERSIAL, KING 👏

[premamelody]

Despite your ask block rage...

DO DERG UZI X N!!!!!!

ask and u shall receive

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

I think Wednesday's "Damn girl is starting to fall hard, even if she's not aware yet" was when Enid saw her for the first time and her first reaction/instinct was to run up and show Wednesday unabashed friendship and affection with no hidden agenda. TT0TT

Like she is probs the first person to ever do that for her (outside her family) and girlie didn't realize how much that meant to her ajkfldjsaklf

Like after that it was all downhill from there for Wednesday. She'd been smittened. Smoted? Smited? Regardless she's donezo. Down and out. She ain't coming back the same. She might not be aware of it just yet but she'll figure it out jkldasjfsa

[shannonsketches]

[buddiesmutslut]

I’m genuinely so fucking sick of the “you all would have loved it if it was Eddie who made that comment” take.

First of all, Eddie wouldn’t have made comment then, bc he knows how hard it is for Buck to talk about his emotions, & is REALLY good at giving him the space to talk about them, even if he does make jokes, they’re not out of pocket (the coming out scene, anyone? Breaking the tension with a joke & still being supportive without making a joke of his feelings.)

Secondly, even if Eddie DID make that comment, I’d probably still roll my eyes, but I’d be more willing to accept it. Do you wanna know why???

Who was the person that knew the details of what Buck was talking to his therapist about during their emergency session before the Buckley’s visit? Who is the first one they show at Buck’s side when he gets stuck in the warehouse trying to pull Saleh out after learning about Daniel?? Who is the one who was pacing downstairs in the station & making sure Buck was okay after the warehouse, and the one who warned him about his visitors??

Who was the one praying at Bobby’s bedside, right next to Buck in the hospital?

(I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the dude that’s had 10 minutes of fucking screen time that everyone forgot about post s1.)

It wouldn’t have been the same bc TOMMY AND EDDIE ARE NOT THE SAME. They are not on the same level of knowing Buck & understanding when to make jokes & what jokes to make. Your best friend, partner & co-parent of 6 years and the man that you haven’t even called your boyfriend yet are not on the same level of familiarity.

I get that you’re pissed that Tommy is being compared to Buck’s previous love interests (which would be the case, even if he wasn’t just as shitty & uninterested in Buck as a person as they all were) but if you genuinely think that he’s anywhere near Eddie’s level, EVEN PLATONICALLY, then I fear that you have been watching another show entirely, & I encourage you to watch more than just s7, bc that’s the only explanation I can come up with for why this fuck ass take exists.

[chososcamgirl]

i miss the month and a half that i was unemployed last year. that was when sjap was at its peak too. i think unemployment is the way to go.

[winpocalypse]

the 11x04 (baby) car sex scene (with feelings) that was missing from our brotherlovers for the bottom!sam enjoyers out there On AO3

It’s not like it’s the first time it happens. It’s just the first time in a long time — maybe years and years? —, and maybe it’s the first time happening in the front seat. All crowded, tight and hot. Sam’s having the most difficult time out of the two, with his long limbs, trying to fit where he can’t, his shoulders hunched, while his brother sits back with a big old smirk. Those are rare nowadays. 

That last time, so long ago, Dean was oh, so pissed. It was not uncommon for Dean to be pissed, really, it was like saying he had green eyes. Just a fact of life. But it stuck out that time because with all the arguing they did when Sam came back from Stanford, they went through a period of silence. A silence louder than all the pranks, yelling and old school rock. And then, that night, right before that last time, Dean was yelling again. Hoarser than ever. It sounded a lot like John, actually. But for that time, Sam was not yelling back. He snapped back less and less since they were joined by— some angels, was it? Then, it happened all fast and angry in the backseat. 

“Let me ease it up for ya,” Dean says with that casual humor of his, but the rough edge to his voice is anything but. Sam probably notices it. The kid spent so much of his years just staring at his left, he can draw that profile with eyes closed. He knows everything about his big brother, every line to his face, every tone to his voice, no doubt.

Dean opens the door to the driver’s seat, and pushes his seat back, as Sam steps one foot to the ground, at some dirty desert road, and readjusts himself on top. He stops for a second, hesitates, his eyes suddenly serious in contrast to Dean’s crow’s feet. Some things never change, even with all the years, the messes, the fights. They always come back to their roots, and Sam gotta worry while Dean gotta divert.

“What, thinking about Piper?”

Sam huffs, “Shut up.”

“She really released something in you, huh? Or rather, you did on her—”

“She didn’t do anything, I—” Sam takes a breath. “I was thinking about this for a while.”

“Were you now?” Dean’s hands are anxious where Sam can’t see them. His fingers seem eager to grab at Sam’s hips, but they just dance around, grazing at the shirt. “With all that talk about settling down, finding yourself a girl?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Shut up.”

They both smile at each other, and it’s obviously a release of some sort, a big relief, even though their lips don’t stretch as wide anymore, not for years. The new normal for them is fairly contained smiles and exchanged looks, but there’s little moments that resemble, just lightly, what they let pass. But this ain’t a little moment. It’s a pretty defining one, it seems.

“You can touch me, you know,” Sam whispers when his smile fades. Dean’s anxious fingers find their way to Sam’s hips, now almost shy.

“It’s been a while. More than a while.”

“I know.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Let’s worry about that after we make sure you can get it up.”

Dean Winchester was never one to receive teasing lightly. Now, he grabs Sam with intent, his fingers digging and finding their way underneath the shirt. And he yanks. The space is minimal already, but he does so Sam slides in his lap, even if just a little, making both of them groan. “The day I can’t get it up is the day I’m a dead man.”

Sam laughs and his cheeks get flushed. This doesn’t happen often or at all. It surely didn’t with the girl— Piper? Yeah, for that, he was laid back, confident. Right here, with the blush, the trembling fingers, and quivering breath, Sam seems like a different person. 

He stretches his arm to the backseat, laying his weight completely on Dean, who grunts, “Yeah, don’t mind me.” Sam finds his backpack, an old thing he’s been carrying since— since forever, really, probably also carrying the stains of every road trip. Maybe they’re souvenirs. 

“Y’know, I don’t need a blanket,” Dean says by his brother’s ear and Sam shivers, landing a shove at his shoulder as he comes back to his position, with some small plastic bottle in hand. 

Dean’s hands reach further inside Sam’s shirt. “Sam Winchester, ladies and gentlemen.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be prepared.”

“Well, think again,” Dean says, smug, as he reaches down, under the seat and comes up with a plastic container of his own. 

Sam looks at it, wary. “How long has that been in there?”

“Well, how long you got yours?”

“Mine’s brand new!”

“I don’t believe that for a second, we’re using mine.”

“No, we’re not.” Sam tries fetching it, but Dean shoves his hand back. “C’mon, dude.”

“If you want a piece of this, we’re using mine.”

Sam sighs. “Fine,” he says and Dean’s smile grows bigger for a second, until Sam backs away, supporting himself at the open door to get up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Dean tugs at Sam’s belt until he’s back in his lap. He lifts his plastic bottle in Sam’s face and then throws it out the door. With his smile back, he takes Sam’s own little bottle, opening up the cap. “Ride it, cowboy.”

“God,” Sam says between amused and disappointed. It’s a combination often used concerning Dean. 

Sam drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder and they breathe together for a little while. Both of them trying to calm each other’s nerves, it seems, without saying anything. They rely a lot on not saying anything, some form of otherly communication. But this time, at least, it appears to do the trick. Sam has his hand by Dean’s shoulder, as Dean soothes his brother’s back with gentle fingers. 

“You know,” Dean says after a few minutes, voice tight. “I didn’t think you would ever want to do this.”

Sam’s body tenses, just slightly, and Dean’s fingers press harder against his back. “Yeah,” Sam whispers. 

“You sure?”

“I am.”

Dean turns his face, kissing Sam’s temple and they both exhale together, closing their eyes. Their movements are slow, deliberate, completely new to them. They share their breaths, slide their noses together, tease at kissing. They take their time. Up until their lips actually touch, and Dean’s pushing forward, pressing his hands firmly, opening up his mouth. Sam follows along, his fingers running through Dean’s hair, pressing close and undulating his hips. 

Dean groans into their kiss, “Ah fuck.”

They don’t take their time after that. 

Sam’s pants are by the floor outside, Dean’s are by his knees, constricting his movements. They’re out of their jackets and shirts, only the dark t-shirts left, the one Sam’s wearing folded up to his chest, where Dean’s not leaving an inch of skin untouched. 

They rock together, clinging to each other, sharing sweat, spit and sounds and leaving all the evidence in the seats. Dean grunts where Sam whimpers, he moans where his brother gasps, and they swallow the noises with haste. 

It goes for such a long time, the sky changes and the cold breeze intensifies. There’s little moments of rest, when Sam loses the strength in his thighs and they just collapse into each other, their chests pressed together, fighting for air, just like now. 

Dean cradles Sam’s face, moving his hair out of their faces. “Up for another one, Sammy?”

“How the hell are you still standing?” Sam sounds out of breath.

“I told you, gotta be a dead man first.”

“Just— give me a minute.”

Dean reaches for the glove compartment. “Hold up, I got something to get you in the mood again.” He finds a tape and puts it on, while Sam just rests his head against his, eyes closed. He must be so tired, he doesn’t even complain about the awkward position. 

And then Dean turns up the volume. The song is one Dean, as a kid, blasted all the time, bobbing his head and singing the lyrics all wrong, next to a smiling John and a fed up Sammy. 

Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf is what makes Sam jolt back up. “Are you serious?”

“That’s such a mood booster, come on.”

“I just went soft.”

“And I got harder.”

“I can feel you, you jerk.”

“You have to feel the lyrics, man.”

“Don’t say that stuff when you’re deep inside of me.”

Dean laughs and sings, “Yeah, darling, gonna make it happen. Take the world in a love embrace. Fire all your guns at once— C’mon!”

“Yeah, that’s a wrap.”

Dean turns the volume down, next to a whisper, and his fingers trace back to Sam, his partially naked back all the way down to his crack where they’re joined and his other hand finds its way to the small space between them. It’s so obvious Dean loves the noises he gets out of Sam, the way his big eyes sparkle, locked on Sam’s face. 

They kiss, slower than before, and Dean opens a big smile through it when Sam begins moving his hips, just a little. 

“I missed you, you know,” Sam says, low and lazy.

“I missed you, too.”

“I missed this version of us.”

They look at each other, now both of them serious, but soft around the eyes. Again communicating without words, but landing the message this time. “I missed that, too.”

The smiles they share now are even softer than that first year they came back together after some time apart, when they stole so many glances. Dean breaks the moment, of course, with a light slap to Sam’s butt. “Now, get to work.”

“Dean, you’re going to kill me.”

“Nah, that’s not happening, especially now. Darkness be damned.”

Sam shakes his head, a fond and tired smile on display, but his hips are increasing in speed, as Dean hums against his temple.

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die

[quinn-pop]

hey wouldn’t it be funny if Susie made a robot to hold onto her memories for her. cause. cause yeah. okay bye

[lotus-pear]

not to be that person but studio bones could and would change the ending of bungou stray dogs if they so desired. how do i know you ask? because that’s what they did with fullmetal alchemist and soul eater.

[age-of-moonknight]

Werewolf by Night: Red Band (Vol. 1/2024), #2.

Writer: Jason Loo; Penciler: Sergio Dàvila; Inkers: Jay Leisten and Aure Jimenez; Colorist: Alex Sinclair; Letterer: Cory Petit

[ivymarquis]

WIP Wednesday

Good morning here is a sneak peek at “john price hates his neighbor’s boyfriend”

@direwombat @glossysoap @luminousbeings-crudematter @391780 @kneelingshadowsalome @divine--serenity @thanksbutno98 @g0dspeeed @strangefable @stargirlrchive @ceilidho @socially-awkward-skeleton @agentmarvel @miggyswhore

I need to make a list of my mutuals and my break is almost over so if we’re moots and I didn’t tag you then Im sorry and I still love you and this is your tag 💕

[oifaaa]

YES IM NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT FEELS LIKE JASON IS GONNA DIE AGAIN

but fr the way bruce said "why shouldnt i kill you!" in battle lines toward jason, then ripped him off his bike in catwoman 57 (with jason stressing heavily that it could have killed him) and now bruce brainwashing jason (batman 138) into literally being afraid whenever his heart rate rises or he feels adrenaline - which isnt just vigilante stuff, you feel adrenaline when you get excited or fall in love o feel angry. also constantly being afraid causes high blood pressure, increased chances for a stroke or heart attack ect,,, honestly there is SOOO much to suggest bruce is gonna kill jason, or at least have some part in it, im terrified

Okay so firstly spoilers for batman 138 bc honestly only started thinking about this when I saw the previews / leaks from the newest issue but yeah we see later on in that issue Jason is now constantly afraid so obviously the toxin Bruce spiked him with is just working constantly and it's negatively impacting his mental state I also started thinking about this bc another character asks Jason if he'd be interested in immortality which to me is a bit of a red flag that someone's gonna die but also could just be bc vandal is around either way something is going to happen to Jason by the end and I cant say I have enough faith in zdarsky at this point that it's gonna be good

[bucephaly]

I gotta break out the sticky notes and actually label everything in my house tsalagi gvhdi. Tired of not knowing the word for Bed. Tired of feeling like im stagnating because I'm trying to remember new words after seeing them once and then just not seeing them again for a while so I have lots of words that look familiar but I dont actually know them

[asterparfait]

wilting victorian hours

[laylajeffany]

Morticia and Gomez managed to keep their children in public school for so long through generous donations to the PTA fundraisers.

And every year for Teacher Appreciation week, they pass out stacks of cash to Wednesday's teachers; like a promise each year from the previous grade level, that while you will be nearly driven out of the profession by her leers, corrective sass, potential violence, and barely-legal antics, you will at least be heavily compensated for it -

Like hazard pay.

Once Wednesday is at Nevermore, the gifts get a little weirder - crossbred plants that shouldn't exist to the botany teacher, impressive 500-year-old swords from a family collection to Coach Vlad, and Larissa Weems receives an entire wine cellar because they are aware that their girl drives her to drink.