grocery sack

French Findings

Post #2

16/8/2017

  1. I was always taught in my French classes that walking and eating in France is social disgrace. I, however, did not see any harm in walking around with an ice cream cone but I was wrong. The only people who walk around while eating anything in France would be tourists. 
  2. France is eco-friendly. I have known that even before I took French classes but I did not realize the extent of their eco-friendly habits. Here’s a quick look at what I have realized so far:
    1. Turn off the shower-head when you are taking a shower and not using it. What I mean by that is when you are applying shampoo, conditioner, or body wash you should turn off the water so you aren’t wasting any.
    2. You have to buy your own bags for the grocery store. A law was passed a few years ago that said groceries stores are no-longer to provide sacks unless you buy them yourself. And the majority of the French just pile all of their groceries in to one sack as it is (not the 30 bags you may get at an American grocery store). And most of the bags are made of something other than plastic.

That’s all I have today. Sorry there wasn’t any grammar but maybe next time!

Bonne journée!

Escape:  the residency years

Claire sat cross-legged on the bench outside of the hospital.  She was trying to decide if she should call Jamie or take the bus home after her appointment. Her OB-GYN had given her the all clear today.  

Six weeks.

Six weeks since she’d lost her daughter.  Six weeks since her body had survived a bloody nightmare.  

You can resume a normal life, her doctor had said.  

There was nothing normal about her life, except for the hospital.  Her life as a doctor was normal in that chaotic, hectic way.  

Her home life wasn’t normal.  Jamie was quiet, and distant.  Some nights she would see him at his drafting table gazing off, unfocused, his face a mix of sadness, and introspection.  Some nights she would get home from working late, and see him on the fire escape sipping from his tumbler of whisky.  He was a strong man, yet even he had his limits.  

She wasn’t normal.  She felt and looked different.  She was softer now.  Her mind, her body, her strength all so much softer than before.  Her stomach was far from the flat plane it once was.  Her mind was plagued by insecurities, what ifs and why me. 

You can resume a normal life.

It was time to reconnect.  Reconnect with her husband, with herself, and with her dreams.  

Claire unfolded herself from the bench, gathered her things, and began walking to the bus stop.  She was standing at the corner waiting for the light to change when the small shop caught her eye.  Normally she would walk past. That was for other women.  Life was no longer normal, so maybe a trip to that shop would be what she needed.  A suit of armor, so to speak.  

She crossed the street and pushed open the glass door.  


Jamie was waiting for her text.  He’d asked her to tell him what the doctor said, and she nodded absentmindedly.  He didn’t want to badger her, so he waited. He checked his phone obsessively, and fought against the impulse to call her and ask. By three o’clock he’d had enough of waiting.

“Gu ifrinn le e!” Jamie said, and started to pack up for the day.

 “Willie!” he shouted to the outer office.  

His assistant lifted his head.  “Aye, Jamie?”  

“We’re done for the day, mate.  Let’s go.  It’s Friday. We’re knocking off early.”


Jamie walked into the flat laden down with his computer bag, and two grocery sacks.  He bustled in banging into the door frame, his keys wound around a finger, and the post in his mouth.  

“Claire!” he said, and dropped the envelopes in surprise. He laboured over to the kitchen trying not to drop anything else.  “What are you doing home so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing?  And what’s all this?”  Claire got up from the sofa to check out what her husband had brought home. The floppy leaves of fresh leeks were sticking out from one of the brown bags, and in the other she could see the tiny spears from a bunch of asparagus peeking over its edge.

“Ach.  It’s been a long week.  Willie and I skived off early.  Also,” he said a little sheepishly, “I saw this dish on Instagram today and I wanted to try it.”  

“Jamie Oliver?” Claire laughed.  Ever since she started her residency Jamie had done the cooking, and once she got pregnant –

You can resume a normal life.

“Aye.”  Claire’s breath caught at his smile.  Jamie really did have the most beautiful smile.  “Risotto.”

“Oooooo!”  Claire started removing the foodstuffs.  

Jamie looked at this wife.  She was freshly showered, her curls drying around her face. She had on one of those wee dresses she found so comfortable, and that he found sexy.  He could see most of her legs, and the fabric clung to the curve of her bottom.

“Ye look beautiful, Claire.”  

She paused for a moment, and glanced up at her husband.  It was his voice that stopped her.  That mixture of wonder and awe that sometimes crept into it. She could see truth in his eyes.  After all he had witnessed, after all the ugliness, he still found her beautiful.  His compliment was a soothing balm to her mental wounds.  She walked around the counter, and placing her hands on the sides of his jaw, kissed him softly on the mouth.  

“Thank you.  Now go change.  I’m starving.”  


Dinner was amazing.  The risotto was delicious, and it did his heart good to hear Claire laugh as he tried to juggle the recipe on his phone and imitate Jamie Oliver while he cooked.  They’d had wine, and talked.  Claire told stories of people at the hospital that made him laugh until he ached.  He caught her up on the recent projects at the Distillery and showed her a couple of his newest designs.  

When he sat down on the couch with a beer and turned on one of his many recorded rugby games, she stole upstairs.

You can resume a normal life.

Jamie stretched his long legs out in front of him. He sipped from his beer, still content from dinner and the fact that Scotland was winning.  It took him a minute to register the shape at the top of the stairs.

“Jesus.  God.  Claire.”  He fumbled trying to put down the bottle without knocking it sideways.  He almost missed the table because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

Her breasts were plump over the barest of lace cups.  He couldn’t tell from this distance but there was no way they covered her areolas.  The panties hugged her low on her hips.  Her hair was a riot of curls dancing over one shoulder, thick and full.  She smiled like the devil herself, twirling one curl around her index finger.  Well, if that wasn’t a damn metaphor for how he felt right now.      

Red.  She was wearing scarlet red lingerie.  

She set him afire.  

Mesmerized he walked slowly, one bare foot in front of the other, to the bottom of the stairs.  

“Holy Mother of God.”

Claire laughed out loud.

“What?  What did I say?  Are ye laughing at me?”  Jamie’s brain was completely addled.  

“Yes, I most certainly am!”  She couldn’t stop giggling.  

What had he said that was so funny?  

“You can call me Claire, darling,” she added, teasingly.

Jamie bit his lip.  Aye, she wasn’t exactly the image of an angel.  “Don’t make fun, Claire, or ye’ll get what ye deserve.”  

“Promise?”  The vixen turned, and walked away.  The scrap of lace from behind framed her bottom in such a way that her bare skin resembled the shape of a heart.  

He groaned and missed the first step, swearing as he stubbed a toe.  The sight of her bare arse swaying in front of him was too much.  He sprinted up the stairs two at a time.  

Their bedroom was dark, just the light from the hallway seeped through his first few steps into the room.  He moved to turn on a lamp but she stopped him.

“Please don’t.”  Claire stood by the foot of the bed, twisting her fingers.   She was nervous.  She had been offered so many opinions. Women telling her it would be different.  It would hurt.  Don’t expect too much.  

“What’s this, then?”  Jamie approached her cautiously.

She shrugged.  Her eyes begged him to acquiesce to her request.    

Jamie moved to the window and opened the curtains. The pale gray light of the streetlights coupled with the moon bathed her in a pearly glow.  She was luminescent.  Claire covered her tummy, just below her belly button.  Ah. So that’s how it is.  Jamie moved toward her slowly, linked his pinky fingers through hers and slowly drew her hands away from her body, and the flesh they covered.  One red striation snaked down the left side of her tummy.  Her belly button was droopy.  Jamie looked at his wife, and saw the insecurity in her eyes.  

“It’s ugly,” she whispered.  

You can resume a normal life.

“Aye,” Jamie whispered back.  “I ken a wee bit about scars, Sassenach.”  He let go of her hands, and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.  “I ken how they make ye look at yerself.”  He turned his back to her, and spoke over his shoulder.  “Because I once looked at myself, and felt ugly, too.”  

Claire made a small noise that made him turn around and face her once more, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh.  Claire needed his reassurance.  He would give her the same gift she gave him years before.

“I remember every minute, every second of that first time we made love.  Ye walked around me, and ran yer hands over my back.  I waited to see revulsion in yer expression, and when I looked at ye, weel, I saw lust.”  Jamie chuckled. “Ye’ve no idea how relieved I was because by then I was so turned on I couldna bear it if ye walked away.”  

Claire smiled at the memory.

He ran his index finger lightly down her stretch mark, and hooked it under the lace edge of her panty.  He heard her breath hitch.  He tugged at the fabric, just enough to knock her off balance so she had to take a step toward him.  He placed his big hands on either side of her, and slowly ran them over her hips and down her backside.  He cupped her, lifting her slightly.  Her face was close to his, her mouth a fraction away.  “Now kiss me, mo neighean donn, and let me show ye how beautiful ye are to me.”

Claire grabbed her husband’s shoulders, and hung on. He kissed her, pouring all of his love into that first meeting of their mouths.  She ran her hands over him, feeling his familiar scars.  The scars that made him Jamie, and no one else. This big man who was the gentlest of lovers when she needed him to be. 

Tonight, she needed him to take the lead.  She surrendered herself to him, let him turn her around in his arms and hold her against his chest.  Let him run his hands over her body, feeling the weight of her breasts as he kissed the side of her neck.  Let him slide a hand down over her soft stomach, and find the heat between her legs, making her feel warm, and sexy while he nipped at her lobes.

Jamie led her by the hand to their bed.  He slid off her panties, murmuring in Gaelic, his eyes hooded.  He worshiped her body, kissed every inch of her skin.  He ran his tongue down her stretch mark, and kissed her misshapen belly button.  He took her slender legs and placed them over his shoulders, making her writhe and buck, and finally shatter.  

Then, he stood and shucked his jeans.  Climbing onto the bed, he nestled himself between Claire’s thighs before she could catch her breath.  He balanced on his elbows, and kissed her again.  

He felt her tense beneath him.

Jamie pulled back and looked at her.  “What’s wrong, mo graidh?”  

“I’m scared,” she breathed.  “I’m scared it will be different for you.”

You can resume a normal life.

“Och, aye.  After 2 months without my wife, it’ll feel different right enough.  It’ll feel like Heaven.”  He bumped his nose against hers, waggling his eyebrows.  

Claire did not smile.  “They say,” she swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They say after you give birth that it’s….it feels….looser, down there.  To a man.”

A Dhia, she was struggling. Jamie had no idea that Claire had all of these thoughts battling inside her head.  While he appreciated her honesty, she picked a fine time to reveal her anxieties, when he was fit to bursting.  He took a deep breath, and brushed her hair away from her face.  Laughing through dinner relaxed her.  Their banter on the stairs relaxed her.  He’d carry on with the humour.  

“Is this yer way of saying size matters, Sassenach?”  He teased her with the tip of himself.  “Are ye afraid ye’ll find me lacking?”

Claire grinned, and slapped his bottom.  “That is not what I meant, and you know it!”

Jamie took that moment, when her legs relaxed, to enter her.  She arched her back, and gasped.

“Can ye feel that?” he asked, breath hot against her neck.  “For I surely can.” He kissed her, licking her bottom lip.  “And it feels like I’m home.”

You can resume a normal life.

It did feel like home.  Jamie was right.  He was in her arms, and in her body, and it felt like it had a hundred times before.  It didn’t matter what she looked like, how many stretch marks she had.  Even the damn lingerie didn’t matter. This was right.  This was perfect.

In response Claire locked her legs around his back.  She shifted and settled him deeper between her thighs. Reaching up, she brought his head down for a scorching kiss that had him rocking instinctively.  She gave him all of herself and took nothing in return.  When Jamie shouted and stiffened above her she felt the joy of loving him fill her heart.


Jamie’s head was pressed against her neck as he tried to catch his breath.

“So, where did ye find this?”  He pulled at the strap of her bra.  

“At that lingerie shop near the hospital bus stop.  The doctor said I could ‘resume a normal life’ and I wasn’t sure I could without a bit of help.  A suit of armor, so to speak.” She ran a hand over his bicep.

“Christ, Sassenach.  Dinna show up to battle like that again.”  He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and mumbled sleepily.  “My heart canna take it.”  

Claire woke up some time later to the sound of cheering. Slipping out of bed she stole downstairs to find the television still on, and Jamie’s beer warm on the table. She hit the button on the remote, and silence fell. She took his bottle to the sink, and turned off the lights.  

Darkness in the flat allowed her to look out the window at the lights of Edinburgh.  She could see the fire escape that mirrored their stairs inside. She had taken those outside steps, cautiously, years ago, not knowing where it would lead her.  Now, she was on the inside, having taken those steps towards love, marriage, medical school, and a family.     

As she climbed up on her way back to bed she laughed softly thinking of how Jamie had bolted up these stairs tonight at the sight of her.  Honestly, why had she worried so much?  Scars be damned. They didn’t change how she looked at him, how could she have been so shallow as to think hers would have mattered to him?  Resuming a normal life had made her think that how they had been living for the past six weeks was somehow abnormal.  Wrong. Flawed.

It wasn’t.  

They would carry their scars together.  The ones on their bodies, and the scar of losing Faith on their hearts.  Together.  Forward in life.  

She crawled into bed next to her husband,and stroked the russet coloured curls back from his forehead.  He smiled briefly, and her heart melted. Jamie was still Jamie.  They still found pleasure in each other’s bodies.  They still had the same dreams.

Everything was normal.  

FIC: Drunken Confession Night



A request from numbers 28, 32, 45 and 54 from This list.  

FIC: Drunken Confession Night

Request: yes

Pairing: Tom Holland/reader

Prompts: “I’m so in love with you.”
“I’m going to keep you safe.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Was I really that drunk?”

Summary: Movie night with Harrison and the Hollands always devolves into Drunken Confession Night. This time, though, Tom confesses something that the reader wasn’t expecting.


“Hey, (y/n)! Thanks for dropping by,” Tom says as you hand him a plastic grocery sack full of snacks. He’d invited you over for a Movie Night with two of his three brothers (Paddy was at a friend’s house) and Harrison.

“Couldn’t pass up the chance to hang out with my favorite next-door neighbors. And Harrison, of course,” you reply as you hang up your jacket.

You’ve lived next door to the Hollands as long as you can remember. You and Tom were in the same grade but went to different schools (he went to an all-boys’ academy, you an all-girls’ school). Your moms were best friends. Your younger sister is the same age as the twins and even went to a school dance with Sam once (strictly as friends, though).

And - naturally - you’ve been in love with Tom ever since you were 16. Because of course you fall for the boy next door. The boy next door, in this case, who also happens to be a famous movie star.

But, for now, you choose to stay quiet about your attraction. Because movie stars only date other movie stars, right? They don’t date the literal girl next door.

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2

Dean looked up from his laptop and stared at Sam over the top of the screen. “Can you stop that?”

“What?” Sam asked, incredulous at the annoyance tattooed across his brother’s forehead.

“Bouncing your giant giraffe leg! You’re shaking the whole table!” Dean growled.

Sam rolled his eyes but stopped. The anxious energy was immediately piling up again and he had to suppress the desire to start drumming his fingers on the table top.

Dean noticed him fidgeting. “What is wrong with you? Wait–don’t answer that. We don’t have time for all of it. I’ll rephrase. WHY are you fidgeting like a whore in church?”

Sam pulled his phone from his pocket for the eleventh time in five minutes. “Y/N said she’d be back at 6:00.”

Dean glanced at the time on his laptop. “It’s only 6:10. I’m sure she’s on her way.”

Sam chewed the inside of his cheek. “Maybe we should have gone with,” he said. 

Dean looked back up at his little brother, whose expression was unmistakably complete and utter worry. “Sam, I’m sure Y/N is fine. She just went to pick up groceries. I think she can handle it. Remember New Mexico?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Pack of werewolves with a 2″ x 4″. Y/N is fine.”

Sam didn’t feel put at ease. “I’m just gonna call her,” he said standing abruptly.

Dean watched him go, the ghost of a knowing smile on his lips. 

Just as Sam’s finger was hovering over your name on his phone the bunker door swung open and banged shut. “I have arrived! And no, Dean, no pie!” you yelled down.

Sam was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at you and immediately grabbed some of the bags from your hands. You gave him a wide smile. “Thanks!”

“No problem,” he said. You followed him into the kitchen and as soon as you had both freed yourself from the sacks of groceries Sam grabbed you into an unexpected tight hug.

“Oof!” 

He released you a little awkwardly and stumbled back, anxiously brushing a hand back through his long hair. “Sorry, just–glad you’re back,” he said, nearly running from the room, leaving you standing there with your mouth half-open, wondering what had just happened.

As readers have probably picked up from the tapir photo, I spent most of yesterday at the Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium. Overall it’s a facility I think well of - I think my earliest memory of an aquarium is their central tank, and I’ve visited multiple times over recent years and spent a lot of time chatting with staff and volunteers. However, there was one aspect of the visit that left a sour taste in my mouth that I want to talk about more at length. The way educators in the Wild Wonders presentation handle the concept of “reduce, reuse, recycle” left my companion and I incredibly uncomfortable, due to the presentation’s heavy association of the topic with law enforcement and the utter absence of alternate solutions for audience members not able to spend the money on fancy reusable items. It came across as authoritarian and out of touch with the potential socio-economic demographics of visitors - so much so that those issues overshadowed my ability to enjoy the inclusion of unusual educational animals like aardvarks and bald eagles in the program.

The premise of the show was this: a visitor arrives in a desert town where single-use items are illegal looking for interesting animals to see, but finds herself in trouble with the sheriff’s deputy showing her around because she uses disposable items such as water bottles and plastic bags. In between random animal appearances, the visitor is pursued and repeatedly arrested by the deputy for her single-use items, and then given something better to use instead. At the end of the show, after the visitor appears to have learned the error of her ways, the two sit down to eat their packed lunches together - the visitor is horrified to find she has packed her food in disposable containers, while the sheriff smugly pulls out an identical lunch that has been packed entirely in reusable items. There were a number of reasons that I found this messaging discomfiting.

For one, the main message conveyed regarding reusable items was very authoritarian. During the pre-show, the audience was educated about how much damage since use items can do, and then told to say a pledge along with the presenter in which they swore off all single-use items forever and affirmed a commitment to reusable items. That itself felt a little weird, but then the show took it even further by having the consequences of the use of disposable items be punative actions by authority figures. The visitor was not really educated about the ban on single-use items before going off on her adventures, and was arrested by the deputy for her crime without any dialogue that addressed her potential knowledge (or lack there or) regarding why disposable items were so bad. The deputy would then harangue her and give her an appropriate reusable item instead. This happened three times during the course of the show, in the same pattern: visitor would happily run off in an adventure with an inappropriate item, the dog playing the sheriff would “report” the illegal use to the deputy, the deputy would chase and arrest the visitor. This particular scripting effectively communicated to the kids in the audience that a) using disposable items is always bad, without exception b) it is totally acceptable and normal for authority figures to take punative action towards people using disposable items c) being chased and arrested is within the scope of punishment for repeated use of disposable items and d) ignorance of why single-use items are bad is not acceptable and will not be taken into account. That’s not how you convince kids to want to save the earth - that’s how you scare them into complying. (It also came off as insensitive and unaware of current events, as chase scenes, lassoing of “the culprit”, and arrests were played off for laughs by an entirely white cast).

For two, there was no awareness in the entire script of how income differences might effect the audience’s ability to comply with their conservation solutions. All the item offers as better solutions to single-use items were expensive: the pre-show involved replacing plastic straws with reusable metal ones, and items the deputy showed off were a reusable fabric tote, heavy plastic water bottles, recharable batteries, and a decorative fabric lunch bag and matching sandwich pouch. There was exactly zero mention of alternatives that did not involve spending money on eco-friendly items. I really expected some mention of how plastic grocery sacks or disposable water bottles could be saved and re-used instead of being thrown out, but there was nothing like that in the messaging - framing indicated that purchasing eco-friendly items was really the only acceptable action. I’m sorry, but not everyone can afford that, which means there are now potentially kids in the audience who may think their family is bad (and maybe potentially at risk for being arrested) for not owning reusable items because they can’t afford the up-front cost of purchasing them.

For three, I really don’t think public shaming of people for single-use items is an appropriate message to pass on to kids. The whole show kind of yucked it up, encouraging the audience to sympathize with the beleaguered deputy, placing them in opposition against the visitor who just didn’t get how awful and harmful her choices were. At the end, though, you saw the visitor sit down and pull out her lunch from a sack - just like many kids do every day. It’s been made clear the visitor has learned the value of reusable items from her multiple arrests. Then she pulls out her food, and sees how the packaging has failed yet again… and is not met with sympathy for a choice she didn’t realize was inappropriate when she made it. She’s shamed, yet again, and this time for a past choice she can’t rectify. How many kids do you think will sit down for lunch soon - maybe a packed lunch at a day camp that they have no control over - and see that it’s packed with disposable items and feel bad about that? I know the goal is that kids go home and talk to their parents, but there’s a couple problems - not only was that discussion never explicitly encouraged, not everyone can afford Tupperware or cloth sandwich baggies for their kids to take to school. The presentation set kids up to feel bad about how they engage in a common routine they may have no power to influence, and taught by example that it’s okay to shame and punish other people who use the wrong items.

None of the things listed above are good takeaways from an educational program. Compliance through fear of authority, compulsory spending to achieve moral status, and negative treatment of those who can’t or don’t act similarly are not acceptable messaging for door yo be teaching the kids who are in their audiences. This is especially true when the script of a supposedly animal-based program focuses more heavily on teaching these lessons than on the animals in the presentation.

What I was taught when being trained as as an educator is that motivating an audience to engage in behavioral change that is uncomfortable or inconvenient requires utilizing the power of positive emotion. You don’t go to the hassle of remembering reusable bags on every grocery trip because you’ll get in trouble if you don’t - you do it because you love leatherback sea turtles and want to reduce the number of bags that might be mistaken for delicious jellyfish when they end up in the ocean. While kids might change their behavior temporarily because the rest of their life has conditioned them to automatically obey authority figures, at some point they’re going to realize nobody is going to arrest them for not carrying a reusable water bottle, and they’ll stop caring - at best. At worst, they realize that they’ve been manipulated by the cool educators at the zoo with the animals they liked so much, and they’ll write off any future messaging as a result.

I was truly blown away by how much this program differed from my other experiences at Point Defiance. I’ve seen Wild Wonders shows in previous years and adored them both for their quality animal training and their strong conservation message. I got neither from this current script - overall impression was that the animals made quick appearances to keep the attention of the audience during transitions between scenes. I’m not sure why this year was so different - I don’t know the facility from anything but the public side, nor know staff there to ask, so I won’t hazard a guess. Overall, it felt like the whole production really missed an opportunity to use incredibly cool animals - hello, aardvarks?? - to inspire kids to get involved and to spread awareness of the ways people of all ages and income can modify their usage of disposable items to become more sustainable.

The First Birthday

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Written for @scarygoodfanfics Sam Winchester Birthday Challenge, prompt was “Do you know how much I love you?”

Summary: Finding a bit of time in between the BMOL and things with Cas, Mary and Dean surprise Sam on his birthday. It’s nothing big, but the gesture turns into a conversation none of them wanted to have, let alone on Sam’s birthday.

Characters/Relationships: Sam, Dean, Mary

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: I’M SORRY. There’s a few gut-punching lines in here. It’s angsty. But it ends sort of ok? I CAN’T HELP IT, OK? Also, thank you to @impala-dreamer for being an awesome beta, as always!

It was a nice gesture, really. At least it was meant to be. A birthday cake, a few candles, a small present from Mom and Dean. But somewhere along the way, something went wrong. Maybe the idea was flawed all along, the road of planning paved with good intentions. Or maybe it was the cracks in the family relationships that destined the plan to fall apart. Either way, the birthday celebration turned into a painful heart-to-heart that wasn’t planned, nor necessarily desired at that Moment. There was too much going on. There was always too much going on.

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Grocery Store Valentine

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Valentine’s Fluff for the DeanCas Sweetheart Challenge: 

SFW: No Smut

Castiel had ridden along with Dean to pick up groceries. Sam usually did the shopping but Dean simply could not choke down  anymore Kale, salads, or smoothies. He needed real food.

“You mean junk food…” Cas murmured at his back at Dean’s lament on Sam’s shopping practices as he shadowed him around the store.

Dean gave Cas a face of mock offense. “Bite your tongue, and since when do you side with Sam about food? Burgers and pork rinds are considered junk and they’re your favorites…”

“<i>I</i> can’t get heart disease either…” Castiel murmured with a hint of a smile on his lips.

As they shopped in companionable silence, Cas noticed the Valentine’s decorations and candy on the end of every aisle. “I’ve never understood Valentine’s Day being associated with Cupid. Cherubs are not interested in dating and relationships. They force people to fall in love. Very against Team Fee Will’s mission statement.”

Dean nodded his head in agreement, his mouth shaping into a frown. “Good point. Screw Valentine’s Day…You know I used to call it Unattached Drifter Christmas…I would swoop into bars and find lonely women and show ‘em a good time. Figured I was doing my part to cheer them up. Think I was just trying to cheer myself up really.” Dean stiffened then, realizing he was being a bit more revealing of his feelings than normal. He did that with Cas…It was annoying. As they went down every aisle, throwing in essentials like bread, sandwich meat, cheese, and milk, occasional anomalies would appear like Oreos and Slim Jims. Neither commented when they both threw in a bag of pork rinds, grinning to each other.

“Sam’s going to eyeroll for days, but damn it, I like Oreos! I didn’t get a childhood. I deserve cookies at least, I mean damn,” Dean laughed as they turned left onto the next aisle. He hadn’t been paying attention. It was that stupid Seasonal aisle and it was piled high with stuffed bears, hearts full of chocolates, and boxes of paper Valentine’s. Dean tried to make good time down the aisle but it was full of last minute husbands scrambling for gifts. Dean realized it was February 13th…the poor bastards. Dean shared a few looks with the men searching through the candies and he smiled sympathetically as he turned off the aisle. “Man, that makes me glad I don’t have to worry about that stuff, right Cas? Cas?” Dean looked back down the aisle and he saw Castiel talking to a man at the other end of the aisle. Dean’s eyes narrowed and he turned his cart around to make his way back down the red and pink splattered aisle. As he came up on the two talking, Dean knew right away the man was flirting with Cas, who was completely oblivious.

“Cas, man, come on. We’ve got to get the rest of the groceries and get home…” Dean growled out more aggressively than he intended, putting his hand on Castiel’s elbow.

“Sorry, Dean. This man, Daniel, was asking me about good places he could take a date for Valentine’s. I informed him I thought he might be unable to get reservations at this late of a date.” Castiel looked at Dean without a hint of understanding as to what Daniel’s true intentions were.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Daniel and his stupid perfect teeth and short red hair. He knew this game. Hell, he’d played this game, finding singles hovering near the Valentine’s aisle, unattached…attractive…singles. Suddenly, Dean’s grip on Castiel’s arm became more of an open handed, possessive grip than a way to get his attention. Who did this Daniel think he was, flirting with his…Cas…Oh shit. Dean realized he was being jealous when he had no claim or right to be. It wasn’t like he was attracted to…Oh Hell, who was he kidding other than himself? He loved Castiel. He just didn’t have the guts to find out how Cas felt, though he suspected at times….Daniel was staring at where Dean’s hand was still touching Castiel’s elbow. Yeah, asshole, read the signs. He’s mine…Dean thought to himself then he grimaced internally.

“I’m sure Daniel can manage just fine Cas. That’s what Yelp is for…Come on <i>sweetheart</i>, let’s go…” The sentiment had just come out. Dean told himself it was a means to get Daniel to back off…Yeah that was it, because the way he’d been gently holding his elbow hadn’t told Daniel enough. Shit. Castiel followed numbly along behind Dean as they once again made their way down the Valentine’s aisle. Dean pushed the cart with one hand and kept a grip on Cas’ elbow with the other, worried another Daniel might swoop in and try to steal his Angel away again. He only loosened his grip as they got off the aisle. Castiel’s forehead was scrunched up in thought. “Daniel was flirting with you. Couldn’t you tell? I…said that to make him leave you alone…Unless you wanted to…” Dean stuttered out, his face turning red from his nose to his ears.

“Why would I want to flirt with Daniel? I have no romantic attractions to him,” Castiel said as if it was an obvious fact.

“Right…Angels don’t date do they?” Dean murmured out as he gripped the cart with both hands and strode with purpose down the next aisle. Castiel actually had to speed walk to keep up with him.

“That’s…that’s not exactly true…Dean, would you slow down? I can easily keep up but you’re missing things we need,” Castiel said, annoyance now clouding his tone.

“What’s not exactly true? And what did I miss? Oh, coffee…right.” Dean darted down the aisle, grabbing several canisters of coffee and filters. He grabbed creamer and sugar for Cas, who seemed to like his coffee very sweet. As he tossed the items in the cart, Castiel stopped it from moving with his foot on the bottom rack of it. He locked eyes with Dean, his own tight.

“That Angels don’t date. They don’t…I would, but I’m not an Angel’s Angel, remember? Besides, it would have to be the right person…” Cas said neutrally, his eyes dark as he glanced nervously at Dean before he wandered down the aisle as well.

Dean was so confused. This was the last time he brought Castiel along with him when he shopped. Flirtatious men and weird conversations didn’t happen to him when he was alone. He pushed the cart along, looking for Cas. He found him finally, grabbing a pie at the deli and he grinned to himself as he pushed the cart up. “Thanks…” Dean said quietly behind him.

“You’re welcome. Anything else we need?” Cas said as he placed an apple pie in the cart.

“No, let’s check out. Come on.”

After all the bags had been loaded up into the backseat of the Impala, Dean hesitated, his hand on the doorknob of the driver’s side. He looked at Cas, who was contemplatively looking out his window. They were both getting older. Even Cas, who Dean thought would never age. He’d never asked him about that…Dean gripped the doorknob and swung the door open to stick his head in.

“I forgot something. I’ll be right back,” Dean said casually before closing the door and jogging back inside. Castiel nodded once then continued staring out into the night sky.

It was about ten minutes later that Dean returned with something wrapped in several plastic grocery sacks. He shoved the lumpy item in Castiel’s lap before buckling up and squealing out of the parking lot, his eyes only for the road. Castiel slowly ripped off each plastic bag, revealing a plush bee holding a heart that said “Bee Mine”. Cas tilted his head to the side before side eyeing Dean.

“Is this for…” Castel said hesitantly.

“For you….” Dean said quietly, chewing on his bottom lip as he refused to meet his eyes.

“Are you asking me to be your Valentine?” Castiel said, a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean barked out then frowned as he saw Cas almost pout. “I’m not asking.”

“You’re so rude, Dean…It’s a good thing I love you despite it,” Castiel said softly, his fingers making the bee’s antennae wobble.

“I thank Chuck every day for that, Sweetheart…Now, how do we break it to Sam we’re going out tomorrow without him?” Dean said with a grin forming on his lips.

@deancas-sweetheart

You Know, I Know

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned

Happy Birthday, Jiminie, it’s made me so happy to hear that you’re feeling happier and more confident in yourself lately, so here’s to another year of growing up and happiness and crinkled eye smiles and unapologetically being yourself.

-by Admin Bee


You’re eight hours deep into a hardcore study session, a textbook hurricane splayed out around your small living space and heavy-lidded eyes threatening to close at any moment when there’s a knock at your door. You jump up, any ounce of sleepiness fading away with the arrival of your hero, your savior, the man who answered your plea for distraction with “I’ll be right over.”

Park Jimin, the beautiful, amazing boyfriend his is, has come to your rescue, standing outside your door with a backpack hanging off his shoulder, the largest cup of coffee the cafe down the street offers in one hand and a full bag from the convenience store in the other. Somehow, despite finals and late nights, he’s still the epitome of sunshine, lighting up the hallway to your dim apartment with his bright smile.

“I brought coffee,” you graciously accept the cup he extends towards you, “snacks,” the plastic bag in his hand is lifted, “and a surprise.”

Keep reading

1950s Greaser Au: Grelliam (in progress)

The nineteen fifties were in full swing at Grimme U. Rumor had it there was a new student transfer to the small college and rumors were rarely ever wrong…half the time. Rumor also had it, he was a square.

‘Just what this town needs,’ thought Grell, ‘another goody two shoes’.“ Grell Sutcliffe sat on the hood of her boyfriend’s roadster, applying a fresh coat of lipstick as the rest of the students milled about, heading to their respective classes. She wore a red skirt that had been shortened to reach just below her knees and flared out. Her white blouse was tight fitting and knotted under her breasts instead of being buttoned like normal, exposing quite a bit of her breasts and as always, she wore a red jacket. Her chainsaw shaped earrings dangled from her ears.

Her boyfriend, Sebastian, his hair greased back as usual, was discussing what she deemed ‘guy stuff’ with Slingby and Faustus, two other greasers. Allana and Sascha sat on the hood with her, also fixing their makeup. From the mirror in her compact, she spied someone she had never seen before.

He was tall with dark hair, very kempt, but not greased back like her Bassy’s. He wore glasses and carried a book with him. He wore a white shirt with a black sweater and wore a blue tie. His pants were khaki. “Well, well, well, ladies,” she purred as she closed her compact and turned around to look at the newcomer. “Looks like our square has arrived.” The other girls turned to look as the young man drew closer.

As he drew nearer, Grell saw just how handsome this “square” was and had to hide a blush. She turned back around and called for her boyfriend. “Bassy, yoohoo, Bassy, darling!”

Sebastian shot her a glare for interrupting his conversation and then continued talking, ignoring his girlfriend.

It wasn’t long, however, when Sebastian noticed the newcomer encroaching on what he deemed ‘his territory’. He moved to stand in front of him and stopped him by shoving his palm against the other’s chest. “Watch where you are going, square,” he said threaningly. “This is ‘Demon’ territory.”

“I apologize,” answered the man, stepping back to adjust his sweater and glasses. “I was not aware this section of the parking lot belonged to you.” He reached into his pocket and produced a cars with his name on it. “My name is William T. Spears, I am a new student here. And you are?”

The gang laughed and the girls giggled. Grell watched the scene intently, her knickers growing wet at the smooth sound of William’s voice. “Sebastian Michaelis!” said an exuberant youth with multicolored hair, who popped up suddenly, carrying a grocery sack. “Leader of the Demons!” he introduced and showed off his leather jacket all the members of the group wore. The word “Demon” was scrawled across the back in red letters.


“And you had best remember it, 'square’,” the Scotsman, Eric Slingby slurred the name at William.“


“Then I shall be on my way,” said William.


“Just a moment,” said Faustus, grabbing William’s sweater. “Michaelis didn’t say you could leave yet.”


Grell slid off the hood of the car and ran over to the pair, taking pity on the poor man. This situation needed diffusing fast. She took hold of Claude’s arm and looked him in the eyes. “Let go of him Claude. The last thing you need is to go before the dean again.” She zipped over to Sebastian and sewed her feminine charms on him. “What do you say, Bassy-darling?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pressing up against his body. “Let him go? He didn’t mean any harm.” She stood on her tip toes and whispered something naughty into his ear.


“Claude,” Sebastian called the other demon off who seemed a little disappointed. William was released and he proceeded to make tracks. Sebastian looked down at his girlfriend, his hands trailing down her back to grab her ass. “Next time I won’t be so forgiving.”


“Nor do I excpect you to,” said Grell. “He just looked so pathetic, and it is his first day. His lost expression reminded me of our little dog, Ciel.”


Another young woman in a red jacket came running up to the group holding her books looking winded. “That isn’t very ladylike behavior, Ms. Grell, no it isn’t,” she puffed. “And in public too!”


“There’s my red lady,” said the one who had introduced Sebastian and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend. His name was Ronald Knox.

Tbc

anonymous asked:

We've been doing a clothing drive at our store, and customers get a $10 off coupon if they bring in a bag of gently-used clothes. Note: While any donation is great, they are supposed to bring in a full bag (think grocery sack) of clothes to get the coupon. Anyway, this guy brings in a donation yesterday, and got a coupon. I opened the bag (which looked full), and there was one shirt and a belt, and they reeked of stale cigarettes. I wanted to deck the guy.

I know it seems ungrateful but whenever anyone gives me used anything that smells like smoke I just throw it away. No matter how many times you wash it the smell is ALWAYS there. I’m sensitive to smoke and will get a migraine every single time I smell it. Just because someone needs help doesn’t mean you give them what basically amounts to trash. -Abby

bloomsoftly  asked:

If you're still inspired, can I get #11 for wintershock?

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Prompt: #11 Snowed in/huddling for warmth


He opened the door to a thermal-underwear-clad Darcy.  She tilted her head slightly to the side to take in his very similar ensemble.  "Oh no! Now one of us is going to have to change.“

Bucky grinned and stepped aside to allow her entrance.  "Did you leave your faucets running like I said?”  

“Yep,” she answered. “No frozen pipes on my watch! And this is the last of my stuff.”  She gestured to the bags in her hands.  She’d already brought over drinking water and a bag of hand-knit winter-wear.

“Good, now get in here, it’s even cold in the hallway.”  

She was lugging a sleeping bag and two sacks of groceries along with her.  The ‘groceries’ turned out to be the entire contents of her dry goods cupboard, along with an extra jug of kerosene.  Three cans of tomato soup, and one chicken noodle, a jar of Ragu and a box of instant hot chocolate.  

“You’re really prepared for anything, aren’t you?” Bucky teased as she unloaded the bag onto the counter.  

“Dude, I am so sorry. I know we talked about going to the store last week, but I definitely forgot.”  

“Yeah well.  At least we won’t starve.  Because I happen to have crackers and spaghetti in the cupboard in there.”  

“What about marshmallows?” she asked, dead serious.  

“I have exactly one bag of mini marshmallows.”  

Darcy crossed her arms over her middle and pouted.  "I guess.  Since it’s the end times and all.  I guess that’ll be okay.“  

It wasn’t really the end times.  But it might as well be.  There was a blizzard bearing down on them.  And in lieu of each of them going out to buy a large amount of supplies, he and his next door neighbor had decided to split the cost and hunker down together.  

Shouldn’t be weird at all.  Considering that he and Darcy had some kind of weird, flirty relationship.

He had expected her to bail on their plans right up to and including when she’d knocked on his door.  So he was completely and fully prepared to do this alone.  

Except she was here.  And wearing thermals.  

Girls in thermals were infinitely cuter than guys in thermals.  

And Darcy was infinitely cuter than most girls.  

So, in short, Bucky was in trouble.  

Because the cold was biting outside. His windows already had ice on them.  And he’d gotten one kerosene space heater.  Which meant…

They were definitely sleeping in the same room tonight.  

She’d brought along a sleeping bag.  But still.  There was no way he was leaving her on the couch with no heat while he went back into his bedroom.  It was true that the power hadn’t gone out yet.  But it was a blizzard.  It was going to happen.

In fact, she was already spreading said sleeping bag out on the floor in the living room.  Unzipped and completely open.  And she’d taken one of the blankets he’d folded on the end of the couch and wrapped it around herself.  

His TV was on, watching the storm developments on the news.  And he could either sit with her, or sit on the couch.  

His legs decided for him, as he plopped onto the floor beside her.  She offered the edge of her blanket and he accepted, tugging it around his shoulder until it surrounded them both.  It took some scooting together on both their parts, but they made it work.  

Even if their thighs were now pressed together, the waffled texture of his thermals was rubbing roughly against his outer thigh, and the heat of her skin was scorching him even through two layers of fabric.

They watched the weather reports right up until the power went out.  

The lights flickered off and Bucky was thankful that he’d started the kerosene heater up a while before, so they’d have residual heat to keep them warm.  He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be cold, though.  Not while he was under the blanket with Darcy.  

She reached down and laced her fingers with his, her blue eyes seeking out his gaze and holding it.  

"Are you ready for this?”  she asked, her voice low and throaty, like what she was telling him was some big secret.  And he could have sworn…that maybe it felt like what she was asking him could have two possible meanings.

It didn’t matter which question she was asking him, though.  Because his answer was still the same:  "As ready as I’ll ever be.“    

anonymous asked:

Ok, so I desperately want to go with Harry to one of those sales public libraries sometimes put on where you can get like a big brown paper grocery sack full of books for 5 bucks, and you're just running around through the tables like it's the most amazing day of your damn life. (Which, it is)

“Don’t open your eyes yet, love,” Harry said, leading you out of the car carefully, making sure you weren’t peaking. (You were a bit of a cheater). 

“I promise I won’t,” you huffed, “You’re freaking me out, being so secretive.”

He laughed, “S’not something to worry over. Ready?”

You sighed and he laughed again, loving the fact that he was egging you on. 

“Open your eyes.”

You squinted at first, the sun shining quite brightly. Tables were spread out on the lawn in front of you, piled high with books. 

Mountains and mountains of books.

You looked over at Harry, who was grinning just as wide as you were, and he handed over a large paper bag. 

“Five dollar fill-a-bag day,” he shrugged his shoulders, “Didn’t want yeh to miss it.”

You looked back out at all of the titles just waiting to be read and then back to him, “I love you.”

“Love yeh too, pet. I’ll start with mysteries and meet yeh over at science fiction in a bit?”

You nodded eagerly and ran off to a table full of classics like a small child at an Easter egg hunt and Harry went the opposite. 

Best day ever.

anonymous asked:

1 with Pietro and Darcy? Darcy's trying to impress her hot neighbor by cooking some traditional dishes from his home country that she got when his sister visited?

Pairing:  Darcy Lewis/Pietro Maximoff
Prompt:  #1. “You must be a bad cook when I can smell it through the wall..”


“What were they supposed to be?” Pietro asked, eying the blackened blobs on the plate beside Darcy’s stove.  They were sharing the space with the fire extinguisher.  The smell of burnt cabbage pervaded the air.  

“Golumpkies…” Darcy said sadly.  "I know they smell like fart dumplings, but I promise that before they went the way of charcoal, they smelled like… “ she trailed off.  "Well, they smelled like fart dumplings then too, but I mean.  Cabbage.”  

He chuckled.  "To be fair, anything with cabbage goes through a methane-like phase before it smells good. And long before it smells like…"  He gestured vaguely.  "This delightful smell parade.“  

"Arghhhhh…” Darcy groaned, her head dropping into her hands.  "I am so sorry.  Here I was, trying to be nice and make you something like you used to eat back home, and I ruined it with my terrible cooking skills.“  

"You made these for me?”  He asked, surprised that someone would go to the trouble to make his favorite.  "They’re my favorite!“  

"I know.  Wanda kinda told me when we talked in the hall last time she came to visit you…” Darcy said with a shrug.  "But… I mean…  I’m really better at baking than cooking.  Obvi…" Her shoulders sagged as she looked at the sad little plate of burnt mess.  

Pietro walked over to open a window and on his way back, he grabbed one of the plastic grocery sacks from the bag of them on her pantry door.  He slid the burnt golumpkies into the bag and tied it off, swinging it once around his wrist.  

He held out his hand.  "Come.“  

She raised her eyebrows.  "What?”  

“Come.  I will take you to my favorite Sokovian eatery.  We will have golumpkies.  And then…” he shrugged.  "We can do whatever you want.“  

"Whatever I want, eh?”  

“Of course,” he said with a grin.  "We can go back to my place… make love… go back to your place… make love… whatever you want.“  

She rolled her eyes.  "Let’s see how the golumpkies go. Although, anything’s better than burnt cabbage smell.”  

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or…”  

“I wouldn’t,” she said, laughing.

Let Me Help Pt. 3

Summary: In this part Dean confronts Sam on the stunt he pulled, and shit kinda hits the fan. That’s about it for this one. Pissy Dean shows up. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 1,434

Warnings: Pissy Dean. A couple of curse words. I don’t even know for this part. Not many. 

A/N: Part three is hereee!!! :D This is just the build up to what’s gonna happen later ;) I’m currently writing part six. This part isn’t much… just build up. A yelling match between brothers. If I’m feeling ferocious enough this week I might just post part four early. 

Missed out? Here’s Part 1 Part 2

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Turning back around, he goes to take a sip of his drink when he hears it. A sound that has haunted his thoughts and dreams for over four years. His body freezes and his eyes go wide. ‘It can’t be. She took off four years ago,’ he frantically thinks to himself. Then he hears it again. Your laugh was a sound that he had missed since the day she left. Trying to figure out where she is at Dean once again turns around, suddenly regretting his decision. You’re sitting with none other than Sam. Dean’s blood boils. He then realizes that Sam must have been in contact with you the entire time because your meeting doesn’t seem like a chance meeting at a cafe.

Livid, Dean leaves his chair and stalks over to the table where you and Sam are sitting. Sam looks up from your face and the color drains from his as his eyes widen. “Oh… Um. Hey, Dean.”



Dean’s POV

Fists clenched, body ridged, Dean replies, “Sam… get to the car. Now. We’ve got work to do.” Facing you he adds through a tight smile, “Y/N, it was good to see you. Glad to see you’re doing well.”  Turning and practically shoving Sam out the door, the boys leave in a huff and the whole scene is over, leaving you utterly speechless.

Dean is so angry he’s speechless. Sam is sitting next to him just waiting for him to explode, but it doesn’t happen the entire drive to the motel. Hurt and angry, Dean is thinking about where to even start with Sam when they arrive back, but he’s struggling to even think straight.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, Dean turns off the car and gets out, roughly shutting Baby’s door without even looking at Sam. He’s wearing a hole into the carpet while running his hand through his hair when Sam walks in, pacing in fury.

As soon as the door is shut Dean lunges and Sam and throws a right hook, connecting firmly with Sam’s face, sending Sam reeling against the door. His hand flies to his jaw as he tries to regain his balance. Dean’s suddenly in his face. “So’s there anything you wanna tell me, Sammy? Maybe, oh I don’t know, why the HELL I saw you with Y/N today?!”

Sam’s hand flies to cradle his jaw, shoving past Dean in the process. “Okay, yeah. I deserved that one, Dean. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?!? Oh, that’s rich. How long, Sam? How long have you been talking to her behind my back?”

Still holding his jaw, Sam moves to the bed to sit down. “Dean, look. I know I screwed up okay? But with how you were… you know what? Just, listen. Don’t talk, don’t think, don’t fume, just listen. I’ll explain everything. Please, sit down. Your pacing is going to make me sick.”

Slowing his movements Dean looks at Sam warily, and decides he’s curious enough to listen to the request. Soon after he finds himself sitting on the bed across from Sam, pointedly not making eye contact for fear of wanting to punch him in the face again. His jaw remains clenched.

“Okay,” Dean nods slowly, “I wanna know everything. Why the hell did you keep this from me?”

Sam’s smile is small and hesitant as he continues. “Yes. Y/N left us four years ago, and I’ve been in contact with her the entire time. No, I didn’t do it to spite you. She was hurting Dean, real bad. You were a mess after Dad died and she just couldn’t take it. So she left.”

Dean looks up at this, pain evident under the anger still in his eyes as Sam continues. “At first, my goal was to make sure she was doing okay until she could get her feet under her. She’d call every other week to check in and see how you were doing. I thought that after she settled in Arkansas she’d stop calling. But then we started looking forward to talking to each other. We kept each other grounded. She’s practically our sister, Dean and I missed her. A lot.” He runs his hand through his long locks in frustration.

“I missed the conversations we used to have. I started talking to her about what was going on here, and it made it easier. You were so self deprecating; always talking about how it was you that deserved to die, not Dad. We’d have conversations about hunts and about how I was dealing with the aftermath of some of them, and I started to feel like she was helping me more than I was helping her.”

Not being able to contain his frustration, Dean swiftly stands and once again starts pacing; Sam can almost feel him thinking and processing everything. Dean reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose to steel himself for the rest of the story.  

Sam continues, “A few months after she left she was talking about finding a new career that didn’t involve waiting tables, so the two of us talked about it and I mentioned that she’d be a fantastic counselor; maybe even offering a side practice for hunters. She was handling my venting to her like a pro, and has always been really good at connecting with people.”

Dean smirks and nods his head in agreement. He knew exactly how good she was at connecting with people. “She got her degree online within the next year or so and I used some old connections here to find her a job. Dean, she’s doing really well. After watching you on your way to self-destruction she decided she wanted to help hunters. She loves you so much, Dean,  and watching you blow up in front of her and not being able to do a damned thing about it killed her. Please. Don’t be angry with her,” Sam pleads. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, signaling the end of his explanation.

Dean looks at Sam, processing the information he’s been given. Suddenly he’s across the room and in Sam’s face. “That’s awesome that she was willing to help you like that. I really don’t care if you had a list of a million reasons why she left. The fact is that you lied to me. You kept her from me! FOR FOUR YEARS SAM!!! Who says you were the only one who missed her?! And regardless of her being close to us, you’re my brother, Sam!! And family just don’t pull that shit!! I’m outta here.” Before Sam can respond Dean has grabbed his coat and is slamming the motel door. He can hear Baby revving as Dean peels out of the parking lot.

Sam sighs as he once again places a hand gently to his jaw. “Well. That went well.”


Dean sits at the bar staring at his glass of whiskey, idly playing with the glass. He’d arrived here and had every intention of getting completely drunk, which is exactly what he did.

Kyle, the college kid behind the bar, comes up to Dean. “ Anything else I can get you, sir?”

“What’s with the ‘sir’ nonsense, kid? I sure as hell ain’t no ‘sir,’” he mumbles. Kyle smiles at him sadly as he continues. “I could just strangle my brother Sammy and Y/N. Did you know they lied to me for four years?”

“No, I don’t believe I knew that,” Kyle replies, when in fact he does know that. He knows everything because Dean ranted about it all as soon as he had a few drinks under his belt.

“Well they did! Those bastards lied to me. How dare they! They’re my family. That’s not what family does.” Dean looks at Kyle, and Kyle instantly feels sorry for the man. It’s apparent that what Sam and Y/N did has really torn him up.

“You know, it might help if you go talk to your brother about this instead of me. It sounds like you two have a lot to talk about, and he needs to hear what you have to say, man.” Kyle places a glass of water in front of Dean. “Drink this, and then promise me you’ll walk back to where you’re staying and talk to him.”

By this point Dean is so drunk that he numbly agrees. “Okay, yeah. That’s a good idea.” Setting down enough bills to cover his tab, he shoves away from the bar and heads out. Getting into Baby he starts her up and lets her idle for a second, then pulls her out into traffic.

He’s sitting at a stop sign, about to turn left to head back to the motel when he sees you heading in the opposite direction. Before he can really think about what he’s doing he’s turned right and is tailing you, hoping to talk to you about what happened. Soon enough he’s stopped a few houses down from yours, watching you walk in your front door carrying some grocery sacks, the front door closing behind you.

Not wanting to make it obvious that he’d followed you he waits a few minutes before quietly idling Baby up to the front of your house, turning her off and stepping out. Moving up your sidewalk and to the front door Dean finds himself hesitating to knock. A brief second of worrying about what the hell he was doing there passes and then his knuckles are rapping roughly on the door.

Part 4


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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Mother's Day isn't the best or happiest day for most of the crew but jack try's her best to make everyone feel better. This year they've decided its her turn to be happy this Mother's Day. I feel like Gavin would really want to make hand made cards.

This one is adorable. Thank you so much for sending it to me :)

Jack never really thought about having kids. Being second-in-command to one of the most notorious crews in the city, the idea of bringing a child into her life right now seemed cruel. They’d constantly be in danger, constantly be on guard, and any form of normality for them would be behind a sheet of bullet proof glass.

Besides, keeping an eye on Geoff and his lost boys is kind of a full time job, and if this is what being a parent is like Jack’s not sure she’ll ever want kids.

It’s not all bad though, being a sort of surrogate mother to the crew. She’s never asked the others what their relationship with their parents is like, only knowing her own and a little of Geoff’s, but from the way Michael and Ryan seem to shy away from affection and the way Gavin seems to crave it, she has a pretty good idea how exactly these boys were raised.

They’re too old to have their cuts and bruises kissed, and she’s not stupid enough to try, but she does try to keep them mostly in one piece. She keeps the first aid kit fully stocked, she has Burnie’s number on speed dial just in case she can’t help them, and for the most part no one has died. It’s a win in her books.

She remembers birthdays and hounds Geoff during the holidays to get them something (even if it’s just a stack of money he chucks at their heads on the 24th). She keeps them in line during heists (or at least tries her hardest) and makes sure they get homes safe if they’ve been drinking. A few times she’s even dragged Geoff’s ass to bed after a bender, cursing him the entire time, but still leaving behind a glass of water and a couple aspirin on his nightstand.

She takes care of them, cleans up their messes, breaks up their arguments, stops Michael from killing Gavin, is there for them, and sometimes it’s worth the headaches for the good moments.

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lynchy8  asked:

Hullo! For the prompt thing - number 18 with nurseydex :)

18: I’m alive…I can tell because of the pain.

Hello dear! I finally finished your ficlet - it ran away from me (like all my writing does). Have some fluffy NurseyDex sickfic featuring Derek “oh the agony” Nurse and Will “my bedside manner leaves something to be desired” Poindexter. Hope you like it and thanks for the prompt! :D <3 <3


Dex wasn’t worried when Nursey didn’t answer the text he sent on Sunday morning. Nursey’d left last night’s kegster early, claiming a headache; he’d had a huge paper due Friday followed by their game on Saturday, so he was probably sleeping in. Dex sent him a string of sleepy emojis and went to study with Chowder at Founders.

When Nursey didn’t reply to his text inviting him to lunch, Dex grew a little concerned, but ultimately brushed it off. Nursey was probably in the shower and would reply soon.

Lunch came and went, and Nursey still hadn’t responded. So Dex started calling.

“Hey loser, it’s me. Wondering when I’m going to get my daily lecture on how east coast hip-hop is better than west-coast hip-hop. Chowder and I are headed to the Haus. Call me? Love you.”

“You are missing the sickest game of Mario Kart. If you want to preserve your high score, you need to get your ass over here. Or just call me.”

“Derek, is everything okay? Call me if you need me.”

“Derek, it’s two in the fucking afternoon.  Have you gone unplugged and forgotten to tell me? Call when you get this.”

(more under the cut)

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anonymous asked:

Grapholagnia :)

Send me a word and I will write a drabble

Grapholagnia - The urge to stare at obscene pictures.

Are you the Anon who sent the request for mentally undressing also? I’m working on it. It may actually be a follow-on to this one. I sense that someone wants me to write smut…

Let me just say: I REGRET NOTHING!!! RATED M for ogling, drooling, disobedient pants, and potential future continuations.


The giggling draws me in. The girlish, bubbling noise out of place with the scent of chemical cleaners and formaldehyde that still lingers in the air. They scramble as they sense my approach, aware of their impending doom in the last second as I hold my hand out expectantly and confiscate the folder concealing whatever has distracted them from Rue’s hands. She averts her eyes, her cheeks darkening with an embarrassed flush as she hands it over to me.

“Please continue your work,” I calmly state in my best teacher voice.

“Yes, Miss Everdeen,” Rue and Sasha whisper in unison, bending their heads over their desks, pencils scratching away, completing their lab reports. With a satisfied nod, I return to the board, detailing their homework assignment as my class continues their quiet work.

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