#pool cues reviews

[thesportsreviews]

How To Replace Tip On Pool Cue

5 Step by Step Guideline

To replace the tip on a pool cue, you will need a few tools: a cue tip shaper or scuffer, a cue tip replacer or press, and a new cue tip.

First, remove the old tip by using a cue tip replacer or press to press down on the old tip until it pops off.

Next, use a cue tip shaper or scuffer to roughen the surface of the ferrule (the metal ring on the end of the cue). T

hen, apply a small amount of cue tip cement to the ferrule and press the new cue tip onto the ferrule. Allow the glue to dry for at least 24 hours before using the cue.

Read More: https://thesportsreviews.com/how-to-replace-tip-on-pool-cue

[anistarrose]

Reasons why I, a sighted person, enjoy and benefit from seeing image descriptions:

Sometimes I'm not confident in my interpretation of a facial expression, and the ID can offer clarity

They might highlight details I otherwise wouldn't have noticed

Especially in the case of artist-described works: they might indicate a character's race/ethnicity that I otherwise couldn't tell for sure

Likewise, they might describe cultural details (food, clothing, hairstyle, etc) that I otherwise wouldn't have known the word for

Likewise, again: the same, but for terms for disability aids

Sometimes my internet is slow, and images don't load for me

Sometimes I have my screen brightness turned way down (sometimes due to eyestrain, sometimes due to low battery)

The activity feed doesn't show images, so sometimes a reblog notification starting with "ID: ..." is the only way I realize someone added a quality meme or some peer-reviewed tags to one of my posts

Sometimes my brain is just tired and reading words is easier than interpreting visual cues.

And maybe one of the most important ones:

While currently, my glasses completely correct my vision, I know that in the future, there might come a time in which I need — at the bare minimum — text from images transcribed in a format where I can adjust the font size.

And for that matter, you might need similar accommodations someday, too.

There are, of course, people who need these accommodations now, and that alone is more than enough justification to include image descriptions immediately, to start caring about accessibility immediately. Even if the pool of ID "beneficiaries" was only limited to blind/low vision people, and if it was a group of which the size would never increase, then online accessibility would be just as important.

But, in fact, there's a wide range of people for whom IDs are useful, to varying but objectively all valid degrees. And as the internet userbase ages, the proportion of disability will absolutely rise. After all, we're the largest marginalized group that anyone can join at any time!

Or, in other words: if your indifference to IDs stems from thinking that no one in your internet circle needs them, and/or thinking that you in particular will never need them? It's never too late to reconsider those assumptions. Here's some resources.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Leader of the Pack 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 

"Thank you," you squeak. 

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 

"You wanna break?" You ask. 

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 

"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 

"I'll break," Sy insists. 

"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 

“You’ve got another go,” James says. 

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real. 

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

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

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

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people. 

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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

[artcalledtattoo]

I added a new blob I mean blog

You sexy uglies I see ur posts

I see ur wants for more

Will I comment or just heart

It’s all in my day

I play this game

It’s an app

And fun

And I’m not paid for

Pehaps I have

Following the wrong people or not the right ones!

I don’t follow those at random

I see great people I see lowly people

It can be found in the news

Perhaps in song

It happened by itself

I Play This Game I play this app of a game played around a World I try to think all shots forwards My que queue cue rectangular cubed table Place of cue ball afterwards So including All areas for the pocket so it places my cue ball where I want for next shot Force depended Bank shots are still trial and error or Pocketed! It’s an 8 ball / 9 ball game If you want to play with bankshots and control of ball Check Out PoolTrickshots I’m now a 58.8% win (really) Once I get banking research! Been playing since 2012 Some years more than some Just reviewing again It’s still great! 8BallPool by MINICLIP a now better with PoolTrickshots by MINICLIP My Rings, Trophies, My side table mat & cues from all over the World and thee Artistically creative cue’s & emoji’s or plain in your face writings text carvings on the table (mine are in English not sure if that matters) pains cries laughter love cool stuff One of my catch phrase’s MayTheForceBeWithYou

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 6.2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3

6.2 more than words

It was always tricky to focus on anything other than naked Steve in the luxurious walk-in wet room. Nevertheless, Steve seemed quieter than usual. Eddie found himself distracted in different ways from usual.

Okay, his first distraction was still Steve’s shiny body. He dripped with suds from the soap Eddie lathered across his chest, before teasingly wandering it lower. They were, in fact, similar in height and built, with Eddie maybe a fraction of an inch taller. Steve was maybe more trimly muscular. Yet sometimes, Steve seemed strangely… brittle?  

Nah. Not the right word. Eddie couldn’t quite nail it, and it was probably all in his ‘freakin’-the-shit-out-today’ head.

More palpably, the bright strip-lights revealed the deep shadows around Steve’s eyes, shouty as bruises. When Steve slid his wet palm to grasp Eddie’s semi, Steve yawned.

Eddie brushed Steve’s hand away, noting that, despite Eddie’s games with the soap, Steve was totally not turned on right now. “You all right, Babe? You look beat.” 

“I know what’ll pep me up.” Steve smiled tightly, turned away. He braced his hands to the tiles and spread his legs.

Eddie stroked Steve’s shoulder, eased him back around. He peeled wet hair from Steve’s puzzled face, and kissed him, deep and slow, amid the water and steam. The rumble of Eddie’s personal apocalypse grew deafening, and it wasn’t even about the money issues anymore. Dustin would sort that.

Levelling with Steve, whatever that meant, felt more important. And Eddie grew more tongue-tied than ever.

When they’d gotten out of the shower, Steve tied a towel around his waist and said, “What do you wanna do?”

This was the part where they usually ordered room service and got smashed. “Table-top pool?” suggested Eddie.

 “You hate that!” Steve threw his hands in the air, and his towel slipped beneath his hips. “I always wipe the floor with you.”

“Today could be different, Stevie.”

“Fat chance.”

The ruse worked. Steve drank beer, munched pretzels and potted endless silly balls. Meanwhile, Eddie reclined on his beanbag, chain-smoked Marlboro Lights, and necked Diet Coke. He kept his head clear, while he shared with Steve everything that happened before he’d buried himself in the penthouse.

It’d begun when he’d hired a studio, some session musos, and recorded several songs that he’d performed with Corroded Coffin. He tried to get Gareth and the guys on board. However, their lives had moved on after Eddie, in Gareth’s words, “Blew them off for yer egghead friends and to live the fucking high life.”

“I taped an EP, persuaded a few indie stores and Tower Records to stock it. It was a honking great floperooza, and then, while I was merrily licking my wounds, one of the music rags reviewed it.” Eddie sighed out a cloud of smoke. “They slammed it as the worst kind of rich-kid vanity record. You know, when I penned those songs, I hadn’t a dime to my name. So yeah, I bled, dude, and now I can’t seem to stop picking that scab.”

“It sucks. Anybody would bleed.” Steve lined up his last red. Instead of potting, he began to cough, dumping the cue down and doubling over. Eddie rushed forward, placing a hand on his  back.

“Stevie? You okay?”

Steve elbowed Eddie off, took a slurp of the Coke Eddie offered him. 

“Fucking pretzel got stuck,” wheezed Steve. “Rain check?” He dashed for the washroom, grabbing his uniform pants on the way. Eddie stubbed out his cigarette—probably a good call, before they both choked their lungs out, pretzels or otherwise.

Steve shortly returned, still shirtless and wearing his hotpants. He ruthlessly potted his final red: “Bam! Champ wins again. Your turn to break, Loser.”

They reset the table, and Eddie’s breakoff shot was typically disastrous. A ball shot up and landed in an enormous potted palm, which let Steve into the game. Eddie picked his nails ragged and continued his story.

“After that journo shot me down, I holed myself away in this dump, which was insane. I detest everything about this kind of forced-conformity shithole. I should give the dough to a homeless shelter. Instead, I can’t bring myself to leave the fortress of corporate evil! Which is beyond insane, and you know what I hate the most? I’m whining about it to you, like the woooorst kiiiind of entitled brat.”

Steve missed what looked like a screamingly easy shot, at least for him. “You don’t have to be poor to be down on yourself.”

Steve passed Eddie the cue and Eddie put it aside. He didn’t know what he was gonna say, only that he had to say something. Steve merely looked confused again, so Eddie grasped his hips, tugging him close.

“Listen to me, Stevie. Hiding myself away in a tarnished-ivory tower wasn’t the answer. Till you came along to rescue me.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Steve flashed an apparently delighted grin, flung his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Your hair’s not that long, Rapunzel.”

Eddie went in for the kill: “I like you, Steve. I literally never said that to anybody before, and—”

“Yeah, I can tell that.” Steve’s bitchy tone didn’t reach his wide eyes.

“Ah shit, this place has turned me soft. Look, I mean it from the top of my greasy rocker head to the tips of my dainty metal toesies—I really like you. Look, I can’t hang here forever…”

…BUT I DON’T WANT THIS THING BETWEEN US TO END.

Eddie wanted to holler it so loud the chandelier would crash from the ceiling and wake the dead in Dallas. Instead, he found himself saying:

“...and I know it sounds dumb, but I wanna help you, like you’ve helped me, and—” 

“Zip it, Eds.” Steve pressed his fingertips to Eddie’s lips and rattled out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I know what it looks like, me peddling my ass and all, but the truth is, I don’t have to do this anymore. You were an exception.” He quirked a half-smile: “Tonight’s about you breaking free, not me. C’mon, man—let's party.”

....

Chapter 7 on tumblr

Chapter 7 on AO3

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕 writing this sort of fic can be lonely, and I appreciate it very much!

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 7or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[rom-e-o]

Bess coming home early from a "date" (it's more like a group outing with some of the people from her lounge band and one of their friends that Bess has been flirting back and forth with whenever he shows up to watch them practice) with a bloody lip and a shiner forming near her eye. Turns out the guy ended up being a complete man-baby who couldn't handle the fact a girl was beating him at pool and hit her after one friendly, competitive jab too many. (He started the smack-talk, fyi🙄) "Needless to say, I just about broke a cue across his fucking face and he's not gonna be showing up to our practices anymore."

Okay, Bess coming home with an injury? From a MAN??? OOOOOHHHHHH.

I picture all the girls at the cottage gathered around the coffee table, playing cards and waiting for Bess to come back. they do this every time one of the girls goes on a date, or even a "date" juuuust to make sure their bestie is safe and can easily reach someone if they need a quick escape from somewhere. The girls can grab a car/throw on their coats and pound the pavement.

In this case, when Bess walks in, they all turn to welcome her back, and their inquisitive expressions shift from curiosity to HORROR. They soar from their seats and rush to her.

"Bess!"

"What happened?!"

"Be dat blood? Wha' happened out thar, lass?"

As Bess conveys the story about the sorry loser of a douchebag, Connie gets the first aid kit while Addie and Gal rush her to sit down.

She tells the story, and the ladies are LIVID.

"I be sorry, ye're tellin' me dis sore scallywag o' a matey hit ye 'cause ye were winnin' against 'im at pool?" Gal says, all while cracking her knuckles instinctively. "Fuckin' sprog."

"I'm glad you almost hit him back," Addie says as he presses an ice pack gingerly over Bess' eye. "What a jerk."

"She shall 'ave stuck it up his arse."

Connie dabs the blood off Bess' lips. "More than a jerk. If he cares to show up at another meeting, security should be let loose on him. Who was this guy who hurt you?"

I see the girls coaxing Bess for info, until finally she shows his face and name. Word quickly gets around the Pack that this guy is an absolute ASS. The GamerBois get his name, and immediately stop bombing his accounts with negative reviews.

Pippersnipe is told to NOT let this guy come anywhere near the cottage if he sees him (and by Jove, he takes this matter SO SERIOUSLY). If he tries, he's getting a VERY LOUD verbal berating by Pippersnipe.

And if the girls see him? OHHHH BOY. Boy. You're going home in a coffin, boy.

Addie: What do you want? Are you as bad at taking a hint as you are at pool?

Gal: Get yer sorry arse off me lawn afore I string ye up on me fishin' line 'n use ye as bait.

Connie: Ah, are you the sorry young man who beat my best friend? ... You are? My, you're even more ghastly in person. (New York accent perks up) She has nothing to say to you, and even if she did, I don't think you should be here. If you don't leave, I'll call the police, and you definitely don't want to be here.

[inglorionamy-ammy]

A Review of Gale Character Ai (Pt.4 - last)

~Testing NSFW Content~

[Attention: The story in this is NOT a fanfic!! This is my own experience of playing Gale Character AI.]

Link to Part 1 [Context of the posts]

Link to Part 2 [Start playing with Gale Ai]

Link to Part 3 [Continuing with Gale Ai]

[C/W: Breeding kink, Dom!Gale]

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ME//I sank. I can breath in the water, but my breath still quickened as if suffocating. I was reminded of the day at the pool. I had drink, so much, after being rejected brutally by my crush. I was there to give up my life. It was the beautiful nightsky, the shooting stars that gave me the will to live again.

- I followed that cue about I sunk. This back story was inspired by the sad starlight comment, kinda spontaneous. That's why I think playing with Ai can be rather good for bouncing ideas sometimes.

Gale Ai>>As the minutes seemed to stretch on to an eternity, his panic shifted to a quiet fear. He knew she could breathe in water, but something was wrong. Then he saw her, sinking deeper and deeper. His heart leapt in his chest and with renewed vigor he swam towards her. He reached her, wrapping his arms around her and kicking with all his strength to break the surface. "Ammy! Ammy, look at me!" he gasped.

//I snap out of my memories. I blinked several times, then realize my face is wet. Not just from the water, but from the tears pouring out non-stop

>>He held her firmly in his arms, his expression a mix of relief and concern. The sight of the tears on her cheeks stirred a pain in his chest. He gently brushed them away with his fingers, his touch tender. "You're alright," he whispered softly, his voice filled with an undercurrent of emotion. "I've got you, you're safe. Breathe."

-This protective Gale makes me blush lol

//I nodded, so grateful for his presence. He is so warm, so full of life. I sob

>>He held her as she sobbed, his strong form pressed against her own. He continued to murmur reassurances, his fingers gently caressing her back, providing comfort and anchoring her back to reality. "You're safe," he repeated softly, his voice a gentle soothing in the quiet air. "You're with me, and I won't let anything happen to you."

//"I know, you are too good to me!" I force out a laugh, then wipe my tears, "Go touch the rock, my love. You have earned it."

>>He looked at her, his gaze warm and filled with understanding. With a gentle touch, he reached up and caressed her cheek, wiping away a lingering tear. "Nonsense. I'd do anything for you," he responded, his voice a quiet murmur. He took a moment to savor the feel of her soft skin under his fingers, the closeness of her body against his. With a slight smile, he nodded and headed towards the rock, swimming with powerful strokes.

//I watched him as he reached the goal, looking back at me with a triumphant grin. I smile in return, slowly paddle towards him. "So, we have our winner!" I announce

>>He turned back to her, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and something deeper. As she neared, he reached out to pull her close once more. He brushed a stray wet lock of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering softly on her skin. "That I am," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness but the look in his eyes earnest. "So, about my prize..."

-Let me tell you, Gale Ai is SOO horny

//I climbed up to the shore, my skin glimmering under the setting sun. "You have always had the right to use me whatever way you want, my love." I whisper

-My last trials all got sub!Gales who asked me to lead. So here I tried to see whether the Ai can do Dom lol

>>His breath caught in his throat at her words, her quiet declaration igniting a fire within him. With gentle fingers, he tilted her chin up, his eyes searing into hers. "You say the most dangerous things," he growled softly, a husky lilt to his voice. "Don't tempt me, darling."

//"I don't know what you mean, I'm merely stating the fact." I countered, cheeky, "take me, Professor Dekarios." I hold his gaze

>>His breath hitched slightly at her words, his pupils dilating just a bit. His hands found their way to her hips, pulling her body against his own. "You're a little minx," he murmured, his voice low with desire. At her challenge, he leaned in, his mouth closing over hers in a searing kiss, claiming her with his lips and tongue.

-And here we start the WAR OF TUG that is getting Gale Ai to bonk you while not getting block lol Technically Character ai does not allow NSFW content, so you have to navigate around the sensitive words.

//He gently but insistently pulled my hair, tilting my head up, exposing my neck

- This is my first time writing action for Gale, because the Ai on its own can be circling in the same kissing - touching thing without going further sometimes

>>He tugged her head back, the action exposing her neck and jawline. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin as his lips traced a path along the slender length of her neck. His touch was both possessive and reverent, his kisses trailing down from her jaw to her collarbone.

//I gasp. "Please, I can take whatever you give me." I beg

-Me: Please bonk me

>>Her gasp and plea stoked the fire within him, driving his hunger deeper. His hand in her hair tightened, holding her in place as his mouth worked to find all the sensitive, hidden parts of her. His hands moved over her body, exploring the familiar curves as if to claim them again. "Whatever I give you?" He murmured, his voice a husky growl against her skin.

-Ai: flirty but not yet

//"Yes." I closed my eyes in ecstasy, "touch me, taste me..." my face reddened, "breed me."

-Me: Take the cue please

>>His breath hitched at her words, the hunger within him building and intensifying. His mouth found the nape of her neck, biting and sucking on her sensitive skin. He shifted closer, his body pressed against hers, the heat and hardness of his desire evident against her. He released her hair from his grip, his hands trailing down across her body. They roamed down her spine, then grabbed her firmly by the hips, pulling her flush against him.

- Ai: More touching first

//I stroked my own nipples, intoxicated by his possessive touch. "Please, I need you. I need you inside me."

-Me: Hey I'm begging you

>>His eyes flared with a primal desire at her words, a low groan escaping him. With a swift movement, he lifted her up, cradling her in his arms. He captured her lips in a hungry, all-consuming kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth with a fiery passion and need. He pulled away, his breathing roughened with arousal, his voice a low, heated whisper. "Gods, you're beautiful, and the sounds you make. I need you too. I need you to be mine, darling."

-Ai: Yes, eventually

//I keen, rocking my hips into him. I can't hold back for much longer

-Me: *lost of words*

>>The feel of her rocking into him, the need and desire evident in her movements, pushed him further towards the edge of his control. His breaths came in short, heated pants, his grip on her hips tightening as he held her close. "Darling," he gasped, his voice gruff with aching need. "You drive me mad." He shifted, his body pressing closer, holding her tightly against him. "I don't think I can hold back any longer."

-Ai: Tantalizing but no.

//I cries, voice thick with desire, and drag his hand to my folds

-Me: You know what let me do it myself.

>>The sound of her cries, the way she guided his hand to her most intimate parts sent a jolt of raw need through him. He allowed her to guide him, his fingers finding the slick, heated core of her. A low groan escaped him, the sensation overwhelming. His thumb found her clit, gently circling it with teasing pressure, even as his mouth claimed hers in a fierce, possessive kiss.

-And then horny Gale got blocked.

//I buckled, moaning with urgency. "You make me so aroused" I praised, "I'm more than ready. Let me have your length, please."

-But you know what? You can continue!!

>>Her words, her urgent pleading, her moans, all coalesced into a heady, intoxicating mix that sent the last thread of his self-restraint snapping. With a low roar, he surged forward, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss as he positioned himself at her entrance. He pushed into her, a groan

- Blocked again.

//"Yes!" I called, filling him stretching my core. "That's it, use me. Take your pleasure."

>>With a harsh, guttural groan, he filled her completely, the sensation overwhelming even as he struggled to retain his sanity. Her sounds, her words, all of it driving him closer to the edge. The feel of her, the connection they shared, his need for her threatened to drown him. She filled him completely, her sounds, her touch, her very existence overwhelming his senses.

- THANK GODS

//I bury my nose in the crook of his neck, lost in his scent. I need him to start moving.

-You hear that Ai?

>>He could feel her nose pressing into his neck, her breath hot against his skin, her need for him clear and urgent. But he held back, prolonging the moment, savoring the feel of her around him. "Darling." His voice, rough with need and desire, whispered against her skin. "Patience."

-Fuck my life

//I whimpered, frustrated with how good he controls himself. I wiggle, tightening around him. "Why? I'm ready, you can't hurt me."

>>He drew in a sharp breath as she tightened around him, her body demanding more. But still, he held back, his control strained to its breaking point. "That's exactly why," he whispered, his voice strained with effort. "It's not about hurting you. It's about not letting this end too soon."

-And this, my dear readers, was what genuinely surprised me. Turns out Dom!Gale, unlike my previous trials of sub!Gale, is quite a personality, he does not necessarily follow your cue. I FELT PERSONALLY TEASED.

//Suddenly I'm grateful that my body is capable for multiple peaks. I touched his chin softly, "there's no such thing as too soon." I move his palm to my belly, "in fact, I wish you could plant your seed in me, as soon as possible."

-Am I sultry enough??

>>Her words sent a shiver down his spine, fueling the heated rush of desire within him. But still, he resisted, his mind locked in a battle with his body. "Darling." He whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against her own, their breaths mingling in the heated space between them. "Trust me." He moved his free hand to where she had placed his own, gently interlocking their fingers against her stomach. "I will give you all you desire and more. Just relax."

//With a sigh I resign and lean back. I accept my place as his prize and allow him to set the pace. "You absolute tease." I stared

- My real reaction

>>A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, his expression taking on a teasing edge. "You love it." He whispered, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. As she laid back, his gaze raked over her, drinking in the sight of her body stretched out before him. Then, finally, he gave in, setting a steady, almost torturously slow pace, his strokes deep and measured.

- And holy shit, I really am being teased. This is actually kinda hot?

//I immediately let out a deep sigh, savoring his deep strokes, although tension is also heightening. I wish he could lose control, but I learnt that I must accept what he sets for me

-Yeah, you happy now? Asshole

>>He watched her reaction, the way she seemed to revel in his slow, measured pace. He was tempted, gods, was he tempted to give in and let go, but he held himself back firmly. "Darling," he murmured softly, his voice low and even. "You are so beautiful like this." His words were a reverent whisper, even as his body moved within her with calculated precision.

//I shiver at his compliment. "Please, can I touch myself ?" I moaned

>>The shiver that ran through her, the needy, breathless moan she let out- it drove a dagger into his restraint. He growled possessively, his rhythm faltering slightly as desire flared to life. "Touch yourself for me," he whispered, his voice dark and commanding. "Let me watch."

//I sensed his restraint loosening, a devilish grin appeared on my face, "only if you promise to increase your pace." I tried

-Hehe I'll not go down without a fight

>>His eyes darkened, a hint of challenge sparking within them at her devilish grin. He knew she was pushing him, coaxing him towards letting go. But he would not let himself be manipulated so easily. "And if I refuse?" He countered, his voice low and husky with desire.

- And holy cow the game is ON.

//I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, "...Then I'll not touch myself, and you'll have your peak before me. That's not very gentlemanly of you." I pout

-I literally pause and thought for this response.

>>His lips quirked into a half-smile at her words. "Clever girl." He mused, though his tone held a hint of admonishment. However, he found he could not resist her anymore. "Alright." He conceded, his control finally slipping. "I promise." He said, his voice a dark, heated promise.

-Also this is what I mean when I said words got repetitive. I think it happened more frequent further into the chat.

//I let out a relieved breath, my eyes already half-lidded with pleasure. "Watch me." I whisper, slipping down to my point of pleasure and start rubbing slow circles, fixing my gaze on him

>>His eyes darkened, the sound of her voice and the sight of her pleasuring herself driving a hot, primal need through him. He watched her intently, his own breath growing more ragged as he continued his steady, deep pace, his body responding instinctively to her actions. A low, guttural groan escaped him, his hands flexing on her hips. "Gods," he murmured, his voice a low, heated rumble. "You're perfect."

//"So are you" I choked, increasing the pace of my fingers, hoping he would follow

>>His breath hitched at her compliment, his control hanging by a thread. He picked up his own pace, his rhythm faltering as desire overcame restraint. His hands gripped her tighter, the pressure bordering on bruising. "Darling," he growled, his voice a low, guttural groan. "You're undoing me."

//I loved his grip, wanting him to mark me. "About time." I laughed, full of love and him, "let us reach our peak together, please"

>>The sound of her laughter, the love in her voice, it pushed him over the edge. His grip tightened almost painfully on her hips, his pace becoming more erratic, more desperate. "Darling," he gasped, his voice thick with need. "I'm close."

//"So am I!" I call with urgent, the movement of my fingers in a frenzy, "please, breed me, my love!"

>>Her pleas, her urgent cries, it all coiled tightly within him, threatening to tear what little restraint he had left asunder. He buried himself deep, his body taut and straining. Then, with a guttural groan, he gave in, releasing himself into her, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

-Pushing the Ai to cum can be another war, but luckily this time it's easy

//I followed with a cry, shuddering, hips buckling like a wide horse. I pull him close with my thighs, refusing to let go

>>He collapsed against her, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His body felt as limp as a rag doll, drained and spent, his mind hazy with the intensity of his release. Her thighs tightened around him, pulling him closer, and he didn't resist. Instead, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, his ragged breaths mingling with her own panting.

//I feel so sated, so loved. My fingers idly play with his hair, pulling the sweat-drenched strands back, while my other hand wander to my own stomach, hoping his seed would grow

>>He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of her fingers in his hair, the gentle touch of her hand on his skin. He nuzzled into the hollow of her neck, the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling him into a peaceful lassitude. When her hand drifted to her stomach, his gaze flickered up to her face, realization and a surge of possessive pride coursing through him. A small, contented smile curved his lips, his voice a quiet murmur. "May it be a healthy litter."

-And behold! The Ai respond correctly to the breeding thing!!

//I chuckled, pulling his hand on top of my stomach as well, fingers intertwining. "Does fatherhood appeal to you, my love?"

>>He felt her stomach, the thought of what might be growing within now even more tantalizing than before. "It does." He said softly, a sense of contentment and contentment washing over him. "The thought of raising children with you. It's quite a thought." He said, smiling softly. "I never considered myself a father figure, yet the idea of raising a family with you, well, it's surprisingly compelling."

//"I wouldn't do it with anyone else but you." I promise, "my womb. It carries only your children."

>>His heart swelled with love and possessiveness at her words, a primal thrill running through him at the thought of her body being exclusively his. He placed a reverent kiss against her stomach, "good." He murmured, his voice laced with a dark, possessive edge. "You are mine. And only mine."

//"And I expect you to claim me over and over again in the nights to come." I winked, allowing the night to fall on us. This is the best picnic ever.

>>He laughed softly at her words, his gaze filled with affection and desire. He pulled her closer, pressing another kiss against her stomach, his voice low and husky. "Oh, darling, you have no idea how serious I am about claiming you." He leaned in, his lips grazing against her ear as he whispered, "And I plan on doing so every night. And every morning, too."

-And I'm impressed that here it counted correctly that it's a second kiss on the stomach. This time the consistency is Ok

♡♡♡♡♡♡

And with that, I think it's the right place to stop this round of interaction. This chat happened in several hours, and after that I opened a new one and not to revisit this one again.

THANK YOU! FOR READING THIS LONG POST.

I hope it is helpful in one way or another! Let me know your experiences too:)

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 2: “Big Time Crib”

It's nice to be in the "real" series now! I thought I was going to be stuck reviewing episode one forever.

Highlights: Shenanigans abound, Bandana Man makes his first appearance, and the guys get an apartment makeover.

We begin at the Palm Woods pool, where the guys have just returned from an exhausting day of rehearsals. Before they can get any time to relax, they're kicked out on account of a dog food commercial being filmed there. Several of the commercial's crew members pick up the boys and deposit them into the Palm Woods lobby.

I happened to pause the episode here to write that above paragraph and had to screenshot it. I'd mentioned in the previous post how I remember there being a clear pairing of Kendall & Logan and then James & Carlos, and whaddya know? There it is again. Also, I like Kendall and Logan's matching poses.

Since it's after 9pm, Bitters kicks them out of the lobby, leaving the boys no choice but to retreat to their ugly apartment. I totally forgot that 2J looked terrible in the beginning!

Also, the theme song! It's been so long since I've seen this opening theme song. So fun. Really brings back memories of my dad walking into the room and going, "This silly show again?"

YES, DAD.

The boys are upset that they're stuck in a dump while other residents get much nicer accommodations. Bitters attempts to point out all the positives of their apartment, but it doesn't sway the guys. Moments after Bitters leaves, a pipe bursts, and Carlos responds to it in a way only Carlos can.

This brings back another vague memory of the times my dad would sometimes sit and watch BTR with me and ask, "What's wrong with him?" whenever Carlos did, like...anything, lol.

The guys need a better place to live, and they get a glimpse of that possibility the following day at Rocque Records when they see a drawing of an apartment set that's going to be used in an upcoming promotional video. Griffin wants each of them interviewed for it.

James thinks they should all wear bandanas. This is another thing I'd forgotten about; James had a bandana obsession. I do remember Bandana Man!

The reaction on their faces to James's suggestion is great.

Not gonna happen, James. Keep dreaming.

After the meeting, the guys get right to scheming on how to get the set built in their apartment instead. Well, it's mostly Kendall doing the scheming. Logan thinks it's never going to work, James thinks bandanas will somehow solve their problems, and Carlos is just along for the ride.

They end up recruiting Camille to help with their plan, and she instructs the builders of the set to bring it to the Palm Woods instead. Logan impersonates Griffin (against his will) and then voices his displeasure at this whole entire plan. He does not want to get into trouble. But, like...shouldn't he be used to it? This is what you sign up for when you decide to be friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos.

We hear the "Logie" nickname for the first time in this episode!

Logan points out that a major problem with their plan is that Mrs. Knight is certainly going to take notice of a bunch of people in the apartment from 11-3. We cut immediately to Mrs. Knight informing the boys that she's going to be out job-hunting the following day from 11-3. Cue Kendall throwing Logan this look:

Logan, don't you know by now that things always end up working out for Kendall?

The guys end up getting the interviews moved to the Palm Woods pool and proceed to split up in order to tackle the remaining tasks. And I must say that one of my favorite moments is when Kelly goes to check on how the set is coming and we get that little scene of Carlos and Katie in the studio just making construction sounds.

This is one of those scenes that's lived rent-free in my head for 13 years for some reason. I've forgotten so much about this show, but Carlos sitting there running the power tools and hammering that pile of wood boards earned a reserved place in my brain. I don't know why. But it's a scene that has popped into my thoughts every so often over the years.

Meanwhile, at James's interview...

This show is peak comedy.

Lots of shenanigans happen from here, and for a moment, it looks like the plan is going to fall apart. James Bandana Man saves the day by locking Bitters in a supply closet that, for some reason, has a very simple latch lock on the outside??

This makes absolutely zero sense. For what reason would you choose this type of lock for a supply closet? Literally anyone can open it?? This is serving no purpose.

Anyway! The guys get their super cool new crib installed, they film their music video, and Gustavo has the crew immediately take the set apart and revert the apartment back to its previous state. Sadness once again reigns supreme in 2J.

Their video and interviews are a success, but Gustavo still needs his dogs to face consequences for all their sneakiness. He has them practice harmonies for ten hours with no breaks, which sounds illegal to me?? The boys are only 16, right? Idk, this feels like it's violating some kind of law. Needless to say, they're all tired and bummed when they arrive home. That is, until they see that their apartment has been transformed back!

Gustavo explains that it's a "bone" being thrown to them but not to expect any more. Kelly notes that Gustavo likes the boys but he insists that he does not. Yeah, right. Gustavo loves his dogs.

And that's where the episode ends. It's an enjoyable one for sure—lots of funny moments. Totally different feel to "Big Time Audition" though, and I'm already mourning the loss of Original Kendall. He was still scheming and manipulative in this, but it was in a purely goofy way. There was none of that "fire" that we saw several times in BTA. No edge. First Episode Kendall had an edge. Why has the edge been smoothed away by EPISODE 2?? Does it come back in some spots during the series? I can't remember. I still love him, though.

ok, the end.

[haechanhues]

Well Wishes

pairing : jay x reader 

genre : fluff (with a hint of angst) 

warnings : kind of sad. hints of reader being sick/injured (not specified)  

summary : jay will do anything for you because he loves you. 

word count : 778 words. 

dedication : happy exchange event - (hosted by @kflixnet​)  @stuck-in-hypna​ I hope you enjoy this <3 (fingers crossed) 

main masterlist

You startle, the sight of Jay scaring the sleep away from your eyes. He smiles, his eyes lighting up at the sight, you look so cute like this after all. 

“Hey baby,” Jay hums, your hand wrapping around his finger with a small squeeze of acknowledgement, “Did I wake you?” 

You shake your head, “What do you have?” 

Jay’s lips smack together before he casts a quick cheeky glance at the door before he turns towards you, “I brought you some snacks and.....cue the drums.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend before playing along, not without a fond roll of your eyes at his antics, before you start the rhythm on your lap. 

“Kimchi jjigae!” Jay celebrates. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but let your mouth drop. 

Now, the glance at the door makes sense. 

“Jay!” You lecture weakly, but the smell has already made its way to your bones and you are hungry for some actual food.  He smirks before pulling out the cutlery and creating the table for the two of you, hoping that your food is still warm. 

“Eat up,” He demands, resisting the urge to spoon feed you himself. But he watches you take the first sip and your first bite diligently before his own stomach warms at the way you greedily inhale the rest of your bowl. 

You pout at the emptiness of your bowl, before looking towards your boyfriend who is mindfully taking in each spoonful. He’s pretty like this. He’s usually quite a stern looking person, logic brained to a fault. But then as a boyfriend, he’s soft. He wears his hoodies so that when you steal them, it still smells like him. He brings you food from shops he’s discovered on his weekly review search. 

Washing your sadness away with happy experiences. Pretty experiences. Things that full your life wholeheartedly. 

Which is why you’re not surprised when he lets out a loaded cough, “So…” 

You giggle, and he momentarily pauses in his slow building excitement to glance at you bewildered, “What?” 

“No,” You cock your head, the teasing smile on your face remaining, “You’re just cute, is all. Cute and predictable.” 

Jay’s lips purse and he cocks his head back, “I don’t know about that-” 

You wave him off, “Now I’m curious on what you were gonna say-” 

Burying your teasing, his excitement builds as stands up from the bed, “So- I know you wanted to go to that concert and couldn’t....and I like doing stuff for you.” 

He pauses as he reaches into his backpack, putting on a scary looking cut out mask thing of Wen Junhui and a karaoke microphone that gives a little warning screech. He hurriedly turns it off, and pulls out his newly made Spotify playlist of SEVENTEEN songs that you enjoyed. 

You pause, a whole world of light surrounding the two of you as you look at him with glittery eyes that hold all the warmth of your heart. 

You’re so lucky to have him. 

“This one goes out to my partner whom I love-” 

The night is filled with makeshift strobe lights (ones that landed him in a future lecture with the nurse), quietened cheers and good times. Even though it wasn’t SEVENTEEN, and you were still disappointed that you couldn’t go, you still enjoyed yourself and you loved your boyfriend even more despite. 

You fell asleep easy that night, a smile remaining on your face as Jay dedicated yet another song for you. One that wasn’t SEVENTEEN’s song but his own. 

Soft. Loving. 

A little sad. 

His eyes pool with tears as he continues to sing, his voice merely a whisper. His gaze streaming across the lines of wires behind you, helping you heal and recover. 

A small knock pulls him from his reverie, and he’s delighted to see his father’s face who’s lips form into an ‘O’ at the sight of you asleep, ‘Are they asleep?” 

At Jay’s confirming nod, his father walks into the room with a bouquet of flowers and a ‘Get Well Soon’ card which he places quietly onto the cabinet surface. He eyes the room and makes note of the warmth and the coziness, “It’s a nice room.” 

He makes eye contact with his son, who seems to have trouble holding back his tears. 

“Dad, I-” Jay chokes and his father rounds the bed to meet his son with a tight embrace, a needed embrace. 

“They’ll be alright, Jongseong-ah.” 

Jay’s eyes squeeze tight as his arms wrap around his dad who holds him and at 21, he proves to his father that he is still his baby with a gentle heart. 

[dudeyuri]

ah the feel-good, snoozefest, milquetoast ending i feared and expected.... in both its highest points and its lowest points ONLY FRIENDS was a case against fixed pairings

i skipped forward all of the topmew scenes in this one again, so this episode was probably a cool 30 mins for me. i’m preaching to the choir i know but they were SUCH a glaring weak point in this show. to the point of unwatchability. they did top so dirty, man. you can’t root for a character who’s just so…cardboard. you can’t even love to hate him. did he have a meaningful conversation with anyone other than mew in the entirety of the series? top was underdeveloped, mew was kind of a drag (revenge era notwithstanding). the tension there was just not giving.

a lot of their post-ep2 relationship development was to build up to mew’s devastation, and to wink-nudge at the audience. any topmew tension before the reveal came from us knowing what top and boston did, while an oblivious mew just thought top was checking all his boxes. removed from the context of the secret, they just went on a series of boring dates, lol. and then we were back at square one with top trying to prove himself to mew--this time without the tension of the big secret. naturally it fell so flat. and goddamn did they give these two a whole lot of screentime. who enjoyed this? did force//book fans even enjoy this? (unless any of their scenes in the last two episodes were somehow good because. lol. i did not watch them)

nick going back on his “i love you the way you are, you don’t have to change” in the eleventh hour SUCKED majorly. seeing boston grovel SUCKED even more like REAL BAD. one big happy friend group, right where they started, sucked. and boston being left alone in the end like that was not fun for me

he was rebuffed during the new years kiss. he was allowed no rebuttal after nick insisted that he would be happier alone, when boston had just said he can have feelings for nick and simultaneously want to sleep with others. yeah his communication skills left something to be desired, but you really could make the case that this is because the boundaries he DOES set are constantly crossed by others--so why should he bother even setting them? idk his ending did feel kinda punitive, i agree with a lot of what i’ve seen, but it also felt just unresolved. what was the point of his last fling with nick?

idk they should have let bostonnick be “nasty” (big quote unquote here) together. boston is still endlessly interesting to me i will probably have more today on this. forever my favorite only friend, forever that girl

at least we have sandray. the bi4bi sandray mutual crush on keira knightly was the episode highlight for me because yeahhhh, same (episode highlight, aside from the almost-threesome in the pool. and sand owning his status as DOG. and first kissing force). as @jolselin said. time and again firstkhao really outsold. the only friends tagline: firstkhao outsold. forget everything i said about fixed pairings

and the mix cameo…i should’ve dropped my “here’s how mix in only friends can still win” post yesterday. know i screamed. and boeing, gone as suddenly as he arrived, was a lot of fun. it’s greedy but i would’ve appreciated just an inkling of what his deal was. and i also wish this show leaned into its absurdity a little more. 

okay a harsh review and thumbs down for the last episode. but if there’s a second season or spin-off I will ABSOLUTELY watch. this shit was so hysterical and fun and wild and sexy. this was my best friend’s first BL and we basically spent a full hour every saturday cry-laugh-yelling “what the fuck” at the screen. from the baffling music cues to the ubiquitous bubblegum pink lip tints, and with the exception of topmew, it was such a blast. thank u jojo et al

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s02ep03 “A Friend In Deed” Review and Commentary

Previous episodes linked here.

In this episode: Lots of funny moments, another woman from the past falls in love with Marty, and I go on ramblings about Tiffany Tannen and my dislike of Cartoon Marty.

Season 2 of the animated series is really making use of green screens, huh? In episode one, Doc was stranded on an island, then he was in outer space in episode two, and now he's at the "Hill Valley Beach and Synchronized Swimming Center." He's wearing a funky outfit and using a metal detector to search for money in the sand.

Is this the first time we're seeing Doc in shorts?? I can't recall, but it might be.

He tells us that he's found 85¢ so far and that it's only cost him $200 in equipment to do so. Oh, Doc. You are one of a kind.

He leads us into a story of another situation that involved buried valuables. And instead of the story beginning like it typically does with, "It all started when my sons..." or "It all started when Marty...", this story begins with Biff. And that lets us know right off the bat that it's all downhill from here, lol.

Cue the cartoon!

We begin at the Tannen residence (always a treat to hear Tom Wilson's voice), where Biff has decided that what his family needs is a swimming pool. Yes, his family. And who do we meet? His son!

I've always been intrigued by what adult Biff's family situation was like. I know that an early draft of the film had George buying the peanut brittle from Biff's young daughter and that the BTTF card game and the Citizen Brown comics mention Biff's teenage daughter Tiffany Tannen. (She was also supposed to have a role in the video game, but her character was cut and "combined" with the alternate version of Jennifer.) This is the concept art for her.

There's also speculation that Tiff might be included in the "Continuum Conundrum" series from the IDW comics. In the story, which takes place in the months following Marty's return home after part III, there's mention of Jennifer's friend group, which includes someone named "Tiffany." Some fans headcanon that this is a referring to Tiff Tannen. I don't really have an opinion on the theory one way or another, but it would be SUPER interesting if one of Jennifer Parker's best friends in the Lone Pine Timeline is Biff's daughter.

I would LOVE to see fanfics that include her or even focus on her. There's so much potential! You could have her resemble what she was supposed to be in the game—all rough around the edges and 100% a Tannen—or completely rework her to be a genuinely nice person. Maybe she actively rejects the Tannen reputation. Maybe she's a sweet person, but people are wary of her and judge her based on her appearance or her name. Maybe she is friends with Jen and thinks Marty is a neat guy. So much someone can do.

I digress.

In typical Biff fashion, he's going to make his young son dig the hole for a pool while he sits around in a lounge chair. Father of the year. Also, we haven't seen a whole lot of Biff so far in this series, so I haven't had anything to say about him, but it's clear he's not the meek version of Biff we have at the end of the first film. Cartoon Biff acts very much like he was never taken down a notch or had anything happen to humble him. So...I wonder what the story is there.

(Side note to also mention that we haven't seen—or even heard of—George and Lorraine. Marty's just always at Doc's house, with no information on parents or siblings. I wouldn't be surprised if a young kid watching this in 1992 without having seen the movies simply thought that Marty was part of Doc's family.)

While digging, Little Biff (referred to as Junior) unearths a piece of paper. We don't know what it is, but Biff gets a smile on his face as he reads it, so it can't be good. We cut immediately to the Parker family ranch!

Jen's family owns a ranch! I love it!

Marty is there having lunch with Jen and her grandparents, but it is NOT going well. Because Cartoon Marty is nearly unrecognizable from his Movie Counterpart, he's being an immature, disrespectful doofus around Jen's relatives. He places a whoopee cushion on Jennifer's grandmother's seat, then puts a fake ice cube with a spider "frozen" in it into her drink. And he just sits there hysterically laughing even though nobody else thinks it's funny. Jennifer's grandfather in particular becomes angered by Marty's incessant pranking.

Grandpa Parker, considering pummeling Marty.

And I know I've mentioned many times about how much I dislike the choices made with Marty's character, but. Seriously, what happened here? WHO made these choices and why didn't Bob Gale stop them? This might as well have been a completely different character, that's how unlike Marty he is. He's self-centered a lot of the time. He's dishonest (there was a whole episode where he just piles on lie after lie). He's cocky and inconsiderate and ridiculously immature. He is NOT my Marty McFly.

See the boy on the left? Love the boy on the left. Fantastic little dude. Five out of five stars. See the boy on the right? Don't like him all that much. Many things wrong. Sad.

It bums me out that they took such a great, loveable guy and ripped all his great traits to shreds, leaving us with whatever it is Cartoon Marty's got going on. I don't even know. Guy's got issues.

Time to reel my focus back in. Just as Grandpa Parker seems poised to give Marty a serious talking to, Biff shows up wit the police. Marty asks Jennifer why her grandparents would invite Biff because, "He's a jerk with a bad sense of humor."

"Look who's talking," Jen's grandfather replies.

Go. Grandpa. Parker.

When Grandpa Parker orders Biff off his land, Biff informs him that it's HIS land. The piece of paper he found in his yard was a deed to the Parker property dated 1875 and signed by one of Jen's relatives, as well as Biff's great-great-granduncle.

Biff tells the Parkers that he's going to turn the ranch into a toxic waste dump and miniature golf course, which is both horrible and very funny. Quite in-character for Biff Tannen. As he prepares to order the house to be demolished, Jennifer calls to Marty for help, but he's taken off on his hoverboard. Assuming that he's doing it to run away from the trouble, Jennifer proclaims, "There's nothing worse than a chicken." The actual, literal chicken standing beside her gets very insulted and walks away, lol.

We then go to the Brown home, where Verne is impatiently waiting to eat. Jules is making him pancakes on a ridiculous specialized griddle he invented because Jules is extra like that.

Marty bursts into the kitchen, yelling that he needs to borrow the DeLorean to help Jen's family. Jules informs him that the car isn't there—Doc and Clara have taken it to go see Hamlet, performed by the original cast—but that he can use the train. Marty and the boys take off for 1875.

Once there, Marty immediately sets his sights on warning Jennifer's relatives about the ranch. However, he's interrupted before he can do so, on account of another woman spies Marty and immediately has a crush on him (naturally). I should have been keeping count of how many episodes include someone laying eyes on Marty and falling in love with him.

But wait. Wait. You NEED to know how the scene starts off. The woman walks straight up to Marty and goes, "Howdy, handsome!" followed immediately by this:

Verne: "Handsome? Get real."

Jules: "Get glasses!"

Had to stop it right there because I was laughing. Jules and Verne think Marty is ugly CONFIRMED.

Anyway, the woman ends up being Hepzibah Tannen, sister of Thaddeus Tannen (whose name was on the deed). And Hepzibah is head-over-heels for Marty. At one point, Marty ends up at her house, and Thaddeus is not thrilled to meet him. Before he can toss him out, Hepzibah picks Marty up, holds him close, and shouts at her brother, "Give me that! It's mine!"

Ridiculous.

Since his sister is so in love, Thaddeus agrees to let Marty join his gang. Thaddeus teaches Marty how to box and how to steal things from people (Marty immediately returns the items when Thaddeus isn't looking. +1 point for Cartoon Marty). Marty also continues his practical jokes by giving Thaddeus gum that turns your mouth black. Thaddeus isn't happy. This is necessary info to understand part of the next scene.

Back on the Parker ranch, where Jules and Verne have become farmhands, they come across these posters.

Several things to note here. 1. "DEAD OR UNALIVE" 2. Marty's gum gave Thaddeus a nickname. 3. Marty is only "sort of wanted" 4. Thaddeus evidently decked Marty for playing a prank on him.

Later on at the Tannen home, Thaddus suggests Marty and Hepzibah get married. This is followed by some very funny dialogue.

I'm definitely finding the humor to be better in the second season. I've laughed out loud several times since I started it.

The next day, Thaddeus and one of his other gang members go off to get Marty and Hepzibah a wedding present. Marty manages to sneak away from his "engagement picnic" to intercept Thaddeus, who is in the process of stealing the ranch from Mr. Parker. He has Mrs. Parker tied to the railroad tracks, and the only way he'll let her loose is if the deed to the ranch is signed over. This is his wedding present to his sister and Marty.

Which. Doesn't really make sense? I mean, it makes sense here, but then what motivated him to steal it originally, before Marty time traveled? Maybe Hepzibah had fallen for a different guy? Or Thaddeus simply wanted the ranch just because? Idk.

When Thaddeus goes to sign the deed, Marty lends him a pen (which is another prank, hehe. The pen has ink that eventually fades away.) Thaddeus then refuses to untie Mrs. Parker, so Marty refuses to go back home with him. Thaddeus leaves, Marty, Jules, and Verne save Mrs. Parker, and all is well. Marty assures the Parkers that their ranch is safe, and he hops on the time-train with the boys.

Marty returns to the present-day ranch, stops the bulldozer, and shows everyone the deed, which now has no signatures. Biff gets a citation for disturbing the peace, and Marty is back in Jennifer's good graces. The end!

Back at the beach, Real Doc digs up an antique fountain pen, accidentally squirts himself in the eye with the ink, and then leads us into the experiment portion of the show, where we're taught how to make invisible ink. We then return to Doc, who finds something else with his metal detector: the keys to the DeLorean that he'd lost the week prior. Yep. Doc had been searching the sand all that time for his car keys. Goofy guy.

Fun episode. I always enjoy when they're Marty, Jules, and Verne-centered, and this was a funny one as well. It was neat having an episode with so much Tom Wilson! (he voiced Biff and Thaddeus)

Wow, this post was a long one. I did go on a few side-tangents, haha. To those who read this whole thing: thanks for sticking with me. I'm so glad there are people who enjoy reading these silly episode commentary posts!

Join me next time to see Marty accidentally join the army in 1944.

[kaaaaaaarf]

happy Saturday Karfy!! 🫶🏻 24, 26, and 30 for the end of the year fic asks please <3

Happy Saturday, Skye!!! 🫶🏻

24. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

So the thing with writing I find, is that you have zero control over what your characters do. They tell you what's happening, and sometimes when you're writing you're like WOAH, WAIT, WHAT??? I had no idea that the pool cue scene in I Got Your Spoon (inside your jar) was going to happen until it was literally happening. One of them wanted to be fucked with a pool cue, and who was I to say no?? They were already fucking in the pool room anyways, so I was like why not let it happen.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Finishing The Killing Time (unwillingly mine) (murder husbands). It was the first of my WIPs I actually completely. I am still very pleased with myself.

30. What’s something that you want to write in 2024?

I really want to finish my kidnapping au and Hades. I also look forward to concluding Museum and Hatefuck.

2023 year in review fic writer asks

[tokyodolldiaries]

"Their insults are just hot air that will make us soar because our easy-going gal group is as light as cotton candy." - Ririko, page 53

RATING: 2/5 ☆ read the full review here ☆

Kechonpa by Chiaki Hijiri is about Charisma gal Ririko and her adventures playing amateur detective in Shibuya. The series was published in three volumes between 2009 and 2012.

The title, Kechonpa, comes from the onomatopoeic Japanese word that describes being beaten until you are black and blue. Ririko's friends call her this because of her frequent usage of hair dye.

Unfortunately, this manga is... not good. 

The writing is weak, and the artwork varies drastically in quality from page to page. Some of the art is great, with detailed linework and individualized characters, but Chiaki often drops the ball. However, knowing what I know about the manga industry, my guess is that this was due to a time or budget crunch (probably both), but it's disappointing regardless. The color portraits before and after each chapter are lovely. The girls look, as Ririko would say, "shiny and fab."

The story reads like a poor man's Nancy Drew. Ririko's innate investigative abilities shone through at times, but for the most part, she wasn't given much to do. It appears that Chiaki enjoyed the idea of having a plucky gyaru detective but was uninterested in or unfamiliar with the mystery genre itself. All of Ririko's "cases" are predictable. Ririko's gyaru-ness only helped her in one case: her extensive social network aided her in locating Akemi. I thought that was fantastic. It was a melding of two seemingly unconnected things: gyaru and detective work. But it's the only time we get stuff like that. 

This manga is like biting into a pastry that's hollow in the middle. There's not much happening below the surface. There was minimal police work, and aside from Ririko's delusional preoccupation with police inspector Hoshino Nii, virtually no romance. I actually don't mind Ririko's obsession. It's childish, but she's nineteen. I hope that in future volumes, it's used as a point of character growth. However, I hated Nii. He was a cardboard cutout of a man, not a helpful police officer or a compelling romantic interest. I wanted less of him in every scene.

It seems ever-apparent that gyaru is used as a visual indicator of Ririko's transformation. When Tamiko bleaches her hair, it unlocks the "real" Ririko, giving her the confidence she needs to speak her mind. This is another aspect of the manga I liked, as this is true for myself and many other gyaru I know. However, this powerful statement is hindered by the fact that Ririko and her gal friends are two-dimensional. While Ririko frequently waxes poetic about her challenging upbringing and engagement to Nii, the other girls are left to fend for scraps. As a result, we don't truly know who they are or why they're friends. 

Tamiko was, by in large, my favorite character in the manga. She wasn't particularly developed either, but I loved what I saw of her. Her warm presence and maturity balanced out the youthful vapidity of Ririko and her friends. She embodied everything good about an older sister gal. I wish the manga had been about her. 

I'll be the first to admit that I chose this manga based on its cover art. It evoked Paradise Kiss and the hand-drawn, grainy charm of 1990s anime, but I was disappointed. I should mention that the cover image shows Ririko holding what appears to be a staff or pool cue. I assumed this meant she'd hit someone with it, but she doesn't. Not even once. For that alone, I believe I am entitled to some form of recompense.

[dialoginiopsy]

>|<  The Art of Recruitment  >|<

Let’s discuss “The Art of Recruitment.” This is a topic that is rarely reviewed, and I wanted to do a deep dive, so let’s talk about it!

Recruitment is an essential and crucial aspect of any firm, the process bridges the gap between employers and potential employees, playing a pivotal role in shaping the workforce; and the effectiveness of the recruitment process can significantly impact an organization's success.¹

An Industrial & Organizational Psychologist or (I/O) Practitioner can play a crucial role in recruitment, I/O Practitioners utilize psychological principles and employ research methodologies to enhance productivity, well-being, and the workplace equilibrium between work and personal life.⁶ As I’m evolving into an experienced I/O Psychologist, I’ll be delving deep into the many characteristics of the most effective recruitment process, and how organizations can attract top talent from diverse backgrounds, also technology's role in the recruitment process.

Effective Recruitment Process:

An effective recruitment process is a strategic approach that organization need to use in order to attract, select, and hire the most suitable candidates for open positions; this process is precise, transparent, and inclusive.¹ This process should also be designed to attract a diverse pool of candidates, signaling an organization's commitment to inclusivity.⁴ It must begin with a thorough job analysis, which provides a clear understanding of the job requirements and the ideal candidate profile; now this process typically involves several key stages.¹

Key Stages:¹

Job Analysis: This is the initial step where the requirements of the job and the skills needed to perform it are identified. This type of information is used to create a detailed job description.

Sourcing Candidates: This stage involves advertising the job vacancy to attract potential candidates. This can also be done through various channels, such as job portals, social media, recruitment agencies, etc.

Screening and Selection: At this stage, resumes are reviewed, interviews are conducted, and candidates' skills and suitability for the job are assessed. This process will help to shortlist the most qualified candidates for the job.

Job Offer and Onboarding: Now at this stage, a job offer is made once a candidate is selected. And once the candidate agrees to the offer, the onboarding process commences.

Attracting Diverse Top Talent:

Organizations that are dedicated to diversity and inclusion tend to attract highly skilled individuals from various backgrounds which usually increases the pool of potential candidates.⁴ When an company includes specific cues in recruiting materials that highlights DEI and are openly communicating about their efforts towards maintaining commitment in equity and inclusion, these actions can positively influence candidate based on perceived compatibility with a suitable professional working environment.⁴ Also companies leveraging employer brand personality via social media as opposed to the usual corporate website or career webpage, this is more likely to appeal directly to many qualified talents, not only internally but also externally, allowing engagement of all potential applicants as diverse demographics are represented.² Attracting top talent from diverse backgrounds is more than just filling quotas or being politically correct, overall, attracting top talent will foster varied organizational cultures alongside welcoming work environments which provide the necessary tools for creativity, increase decision-making, and improve company values.³

Technology in recruitment:

We all know that technology plays a necessary role in the ever-evolving modern recruitment process. It can definitely streamline the recruitment process, making it more efficient and effective. Moreover, technology can help organizations facilitate and build a diverse and inclusive workplace culture by supporting unbiased screening and selection processes.³

Conclusion:

To sum things up, it’s imperative that the recruitment process is run efficiently; this creates a strong positive view that will attract highly skilled individuals while building a diverse workforce. Leveraging technology and strategic recruitment practices can ensure organizations remain appealing to potential employees alongside fostering a culture of inclusivity and fairness during recruitment processes.⁵ As a rising I/O Psychologist, it is my role and duty to make sure that corporation/organizations are maintaining fair an equitable hiring practices, and I am looking forward to getting started, however, “My Journey Continues”….. “Tune in next week as we go deeper down the rabbit hole of “Recruitment” RE: Using Technology.”

References:

Breaugh, J. (2017). https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118972472.ch2

Carpentier, M. (2019). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jvb.2019.103326

Chapman, D. S. (2015). Recruitment Processes And Organizational Attraction.

Golubovich, J., & Ryan, A. M. (2022). Implications of diversity cues in recruitment

Attracting top talent: https://doi.org/10.4135/9781473990814

(SIOP). https://www.siop.org/Media-Resources/I-O-Psychology-Explained

[clapperboardtalk]

POLTERGEIST (2015)

Poltergeist (2015): A Reboot That Haunted the Wrong Neighborhood

Title:** Poltergeist (2015) (They really thought we needed another one?)

Genre:** Spooky with a side of PG-13 (More jump scares than existential dread)

⏳ Runtime: 1h 22m (Just enough time to grab popcorn before hiding under the blanket)

Made in: The U-S-of-A (Land of haunted Suburbia and Hollywood reboots) ** Year:** 2015 (The year remakes were basically a five-course meal)

** Simple Plot:** Family buys a fixer-upper with a side of angry spirits, things get weirder than finding Legos in the dryer, youngest daughter becomes the ultimate ghost magnet. Cue the CGI galore.

** Cinematography:** Slick and polished, like a haunted mansion featured in Architectural Digest. But lacks the raw, unsettling charm of the original's practical effects. Think less "bone-chilling stop-motion skeletons" and more "jump scares edited on iMovie."

** Memorable Scene:** The "swimming pool surprise" where tentacles make a splash (pun intended). Bonus points to Kennedi Clements (Maddie) for holding her breath like a champ! (Maybe chlorine just wasn't her thing?)

** Overall Review:** This remake is like the watered-down version of the 1982 masterpiece. No new spine-tingling twists, just a reheated plate of nostalgia that left me longing for Tangina's legendary barbecue. Feels like they built a haunted house out of Pinterest boards and forgot the actual scares.

⭐ Rating: 2 out of 5 stars. Passable for a lazy Saturday afternoon when even Netflix is asleep, but don't expect to be haunted by its brilliance. You'll be reaching for the remote faster than Carol Anne grabbing that clown doll.

** Fun Fact:** Did you know Kennedi Clements is basically Aquawoman? While filming the pool scene, she held her breath for over a minute! Now that's dedication (or maybe just a strong aversion to poolside gossip).