since i was nine years old

2

“I grew up playing music in New Orleans. I’ve been playing music since I was nine years old. It’s a part of who I am and what I am. The Preservation Hall is a very intimate environment. There are no microphones. It’s very small. It’s the hub and centre of music life.

Ben Jaffe, Musician and Creative Director of the legendary jazz venue The Preservation Hall - Full video here

anonymous asked:

Omg omg. Peter and yn really like each other but they're both super oblivious, and two of the avengers (Steve and Bucky preferably, or Nat and Clint) team up to get them to confess to each other?

“This sucks,” Bucky announced. “If I have to sit through another movie night where (Y/N) and Peter just stare at each other, I’m putting myself back in cryo.”

Steve chuckled. “Sure you will. They’re just kids, they’ll work out that they like each other eventually.”

“I’m a hundred years old, I don’t have time for “eventually”.“

The blond soldier rolled his eyes. "Well what do you propose we do?”

Bucky grinned secretively. “Luckily for you, I have a plan.”

____________________

You clutched your laptop to your chest as you made your way down the corridor towards the common room. Looking up, you noticed Bucky walking towards you, looking like a man on a mission. You thought nothing of it, until he smoothly put his arm around your shoulders and turned you to walk in the opposite direction with him.

“Um I was going that way,” you said in confusion, gesturing over your shoulder as Bucky walked you towards the research room.

“Plans change sometimes,” he replied mysteriously, holding the door open for you. You walked in, still very confused.

“Okay…so is there a reason why you’ve kidnapped me?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. Bucky wheeled a computer chair over and sat backwards on it, resting his chin and arms on the back.

“When are you gonna tell Peter you’re head over heels for him?” he asked bluntly. You frowned.

“Never, because I’m not?” you responded, trying to sound casual.

“Doll, you can’t lie to save yourself. He’s a good kid, you could do worse.”

You sighed, sitting down with your head in your hands. “Exactly. He’s too good for me, Buck.”

Bucky frowned, wheeling his chair over so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and give you a gentle squeeze.

“No one’s too good for you, kid. You’re amazing, and Peter’s probably complaining to Steve right now that he’s not good enough for you either.”

Your head shot up, your eyes wide with alarm.

“What the fuck is Steve telling him?”

Bucky raised his hands in surrender.

“Don’t panic, I’m sure he’s being subtle!”

___________________

“So, you wanna date (Y/N).”

Peter looked up in surprise from the web shooters he was working on to see Steve leaning in the lab doorway, arms folded and a concerned expression on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” he mumbled. “(Nickname) just sees me as a friend.”

“But you don’t see her as a friend,” Steve observed, raising an eyebrow. Peter sighed.

“That obvious, huh?” he asked bitterly, sitting down behind his workbench. Steve frowned slightly, pitying the young boy.

“I’m sure she likes you too. If you’d only tell-,”

“I can’t!” Peter said loudly, before wincing at the way his voice cracked. “(Y/N)’s too good for me, Cap, she’s just too good. You don’t get it.”

“What, because I’m old?” Steve joked, chuckling. “I’ve known (Y/N) since she was nine years old, Peter. I know when she cares about someone, and she definitely cares about you.”

Peter looked up at him, doubt in his eyes. Steve shook his head, smiling slightly.

“If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself. I have a feeling she’s on her way.”

Peter frowned in confusion, before he heard your voice carrying through the corridors and his face lit up. Steve grinned at him smugly, stepping out of the doorway so it was clear, just as you skidded into the lab.

“Peter, hi!” you blurted out, wincing at your high-pitched voice. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He cleared his throat nervously, trying to ignore both the way your sentence sent his heart racing, and the thumbs-up Steve was giving him from behind your back.

“Well um, here I am,” he replied lamely. You took a deep breath.

“Okay well um, I wanted to ask if you would like to go for pizza tonight? As a date?” you added out of nerves, worried that you weren’t being clear. Peter’s jaw dropped, before a grin spread across his face.

“I’d love to,” he replied. You beamed at him.

“Great! Well, I better go…I’m supposed to be helping Tasha translate some files…”

You hurried from the lab before you could embarrass yourself, and almost bumped into Steve and Bucky. Both of them were grinning smugly at you.

“You can both shut up,” you warned them.

Take It Like A Puppy (M)

Originally posted by jaayhope

Summary: You and Hoseok have been best friends since you were young. Your friendship with him, was struck as odd since you were a cat hybrid, while he was a dog hybrid. But that didn’t matter, that is until you both start attending university. What happens when one of you unexpectedly goes into heat?

Pairing: Jhope x Reader

Genre: Smut (M), hybrid!au, Cat hybrid reader, Dog hybrid Jhope

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex, cum play, bondage, oral, etc. Heavy dom/sub undertones. Lmao this is just a sinful read. I’m a sucker for hybrid aus, so i had to make one ;) Anywho, this is a mature read! You have been warned!



You’ve known Hoseok since you were nine years old. At the time, you were just a quiet little kitten, who didn’t have many friends. Hoseok, was an annoying hyperactive puppy, who everybody adored in your class. He didn’t really bother you that much, until you became desk partners. That’s when he thought it was okay to pop your ‘personal space bubble’ and sniff you, every second he got.


“Why do you keep trying to smell me!” the nine-year-old you shouted. This was the third time you caught him in the act, ever since you became seat mates a week ago.

“I’m part canine! That’s what we always do!” Hoseok explained, with a smile on his face. He didn’t really know you that much, only that you were always super quiet. But he wanted to change that, he wanted a feline as a friend for once.

“Well can you stop? Its kinda weird,” you replied uncomfortably.

Including you, there were only two other cat hybrids in your class, the rest were a split between bunny, dog, and fox hybrids. Thus, you were extremely uncomfortable with this puppy trying to get up all in your space. Besides, you were quite afraid of dog hybrids since they could become aggressive easily.

“No, you’re weird,” the puppy joked.

You finally turn to glare at him, then let a hiss seethe through your teeth.

Keep reading

do you ever think about how magical it must be for tony, formerly called the merchant of death, to look at kids that are like nine years old or younger and then seeing the light in their eyes when they look at him and thinking “i was already a superhero by the time they were born” like the magnitude of it and the years and the sacrifices and the changes and the responsibility are all made so REAL during those moments. like the little nine-year-olds presenting to him in their science fair. this is it. this is all those years since 2008. this is what those years look like. they look like the six year old in a tutu dress who rushed up to him to give him a drawing yesterday

Kay’s messing with me because I’m not intimidating like Jyn or dignified like Luke. Or model-handsome like Luke. Or funny like Luke.
—  Bodhi Rook, almost definitely
3

Asking Kodaka Kazutaka about 7 Years of Dangan Ronpa

It’s been about 7 years since Dangan Ronpa 1 came out in 2010. Since then that new IP has grown to include anime, stage shows, manga, and other media and become a beloved series. While the series has been spreading since the release of the first game, the man who birthed it, Kodaka Kazutaka, has become a name that echoes throughout the industry. For Kodaka, who has said he is taking a break from Dangan Ronpa, he looks back over the seven years he has continued the franchise and what he plans to do in the future.

No direct spoilers, just really goddamn long.

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Say You Won’t Let Go

Requested: Can you do an imagine based of Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur?

~~~

When you first awake, you groggily rub your eyes before reaching for your phone to see the time is 6:56am. You sit up suddenly, realizing you were supposed to be up nearly an hour ago, but your alarm must not have gone off. When you turn to check if Shawn is still asleep, you’re surprised to see your seven year old son sitting in the bed beside you instead of Shawn. He’s fully dressed and working on putting his socks on. 

“Good morning, where’s your dad?” You ask him, confused. Normally Shawn is still asleep right now, and since he’s up, you’re wondering why he didn’t wake you. 

“In the kitchen. Daddy said stay here.” He tells you, as he finishes pulling up his sock. 

“Why didn’t he wake me?” You question, not fully expecting him to have an answer. 

“It’s a surprise,” He says with a cheeky smile that makes you smile when you realize how much he looks like his dad. You lean over to kiss him lightly on the cheek before quickly getting out of bed despite the fact that he had told you to stay there.

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SLBP Age Guesses (New post)

This is an update from my previous post on the guesses of their ages.

ALMOST CERTAIN:

The MC is 20 according to Saizo’s noble route. He’s known her since she was five and it’s been fifteen years since. Yukimura was 10 when he met Saizo. Saizo was 14. An event story said Yukimura has known Saizo for 16 years. That means Yukimura is 26 and Saizo is 30.

The MC knew Inuchiyo since she was seven and he was 13. If she’s 20, then Inuchiyo is 26 like Yukimura. Based on history, Hideyoshi is either the same age as Inuchiyo or a year older.

Masamune is 26, another person with the same age as Yukimura. Shigezane is a year younger than Masamune, so he’s 25. Since Kojuro is “almost 10 years older” than Shigezane, he’s around 34.

UNCERTAIN:

As for Nobunaga and Mitsuhide, based on history, Mitsuhide is older than Nobunaga. Since Mitsunari called Mitsuhide and Kojuro “old men” in a battle event cutscene, Mitsuhide could be the same age as Kojuro. Nobunaga could be 28 if that’s the case.

As for Mitsunari, he’s younger than the MC. I would guess he’s either 18 or 19.

Shingen is most likely the oldest in the bunch. History says he’s seven years older than Mitsuhide. He could be 41.

Based on history and my guess of Nobunaga and Mitsuhide’s ages, Kenshin could be 32.

Ieyasu is uncertainly 19 since he’s historically nine years younger than Nobunaga. That would make him younger than the MC, which sounds odd in my opinion. Being the same age as Mitsunari could be similar to the Yukimura and Masamune rivalry since those two share the same age.

Hopefully future event or special stories will help in better guessing of the SLBP ages because the events in the game contradict the historical timeline.

  • Cassian: Jyn freaked out 'cause I told her I never drink water, so now she's making me drink eight glasses a day. It's like, there's water in soda, there's water in coffee, there's little pools of water on pizza.
  • Bodhi: That's grease, Cassian.
  • Cassian: Well it's wet, isn't it?

I love thinking about Oliver and Thea’s relationship in light of their age difference. 

Little nine-year-old Oliver. He’s not quite an only child (despite what people think) because he and Tommy have been brothers for years, especially since Tommy’s mother died. Now Tommy practically lives with them.  Tommy’s actually with Oliver when he’s told the news that he’s going to have a new little sister. 

Ten-year-old Oliver, sitting on the big couch in one of the sitting room’s in the mansion, carefully holding his baby sister on his lap, staring in awe at the tiny little person. Around him he senses the tension in the adults. Senses something’s off. When they step out of the room, his parents aren’t quite as happy as they should be. It all softens around Baby Thea, but it still seems connected to her somehow. And from it Oliver feels a strong need to protect his tiny sister. Tommy comes over to play but before going anywhere he’s sat down on the couch alongside Oliver and given Thea to hold. 

Twelve-year-old Oliver, holding onto 2-year-old Thea’s pudgy little hands as she takes tottering steps down the halls of Queen Mansion. And when she begins to talk, the way she can’t quite form the L’s in his name so she just forms her own garbled version of his name. Tommy joining in trying to teach her to say his name. 

Fifteen-year-old Oliver coming home from high school, in trouble for failing a few of his classes and for ditching school with some new girl. But his scowl melts away when five-year-old Thea comes running out of her room, wearing a plastic tiara, cowboy boots and their mother’s necklace, wanting to play. She chases him around the upper halls of the mansion. He lets her catch him and calls her Speedy. Tommy arrives to sneak him off to some party, but before they go, Tommy gives Thea a piggy-back ride up and down the hall. 

Seventeen-year-old Oliver, nursing a hangover, avoiding a girl whose name he can’t remember, hoping his parents don’t find out about the incident with the cop, staying home to babysit seven-year-old Thea so that Raisa can leave despite his parents not being home yet. They sit on the couch and watch the Princess Diaries, while Thea insists that the character’s name is “Thea” not “Mia” and Oliver assures her that she is really a princess. 

Eighteen-year-old Oliver leaving for college and eight-year-old Thea crying and asking him not to go before running off to sulk in her room. Tommy takes her to ice-cream the next day to make her feel better. A few months later, when Oliver returns home, Thea’s excitement almost makes him feel better about being kicked out. 

Eleven-year-old Thea telling twenty-one-year-old Oliver that everything will be alright as he gets ready to go to court for attacking a paparazzi. Tommy overhearing and telling him that Thea knows best and he should listen to her. 

Twenty-two-year-old Oliver kicked out of another school, still reeling from what happened with Samantha and the child they lost, panicking in response to the pressure from Laurel, texting Sara things he knows he shouldn’t gearing up to ask her to do the unthinkable, pushing all that aside for a little while because twelve-year-old Thea wants to tell him about her day and the plans she’s making with her friends and the boy she thinks is cute and Oliver for just a little while feeling calm and happy sitting on the arm of a chair in her room listening to her. 

Twelve-year-old Thea sitting in her room, staring at a wall trying to process the fact that her dad and brother are dead. Tommy takes her to ice-cream like he used to. There she breaks down and sobs and he hugs her and cries too. 

Seventeen-year-old Thea learning that her big brother is alive and believing for a little bit that everything that’s been broken for so long will be fixed when he gets home. She calls Tommy and they laugh and cry together on the phone. 

Twenty-seven-year-old Oliver coming home and finding that seventeen-year-old Thea is everything that broke him before the Island and wanting to help, to fix her, but unable to reach out because he feels he is so far past broken. How can he let hands with so much blood on them go anywhere near his baby sister? He tries but he can’t talk to her and she can’t talk to him because they’ve entered different worlds. Her big brother is still dead and his little sister is still lost to him. 

Thirty-year-old Oliver watching his dying sister, doing everything he can to help her and thinking about everything she’s never had. The father, the mother and the brother that she lost. The college she never went to. The career she didn’t build. The boyfriend who was forced to leave. The pain she went through, the darkness she let into herself. All because he came back into her life four years ago. Since she was born he wanted to protect her, but now he sees how much he failed, how much he dragged her down with him.

Thirty-two-year old Oliver seeing his baby sister grown up, letting herself heal, rediscovering her family ties. A warrior who isn’t trapped in battle. A capable woman in any career she chooses. Twenty-two, the age he was when his life fell apart but she’s just heading into the best part of hers. And she sees him, her big brother restored- a leader, a warrior, a hero- everything he was to her when she was little now for all the world to see. 

6

Thirteen Years. WOW.

Not quite twelve years ago, an acquaintance approached me about taking in a troubled young Doberman bitch who had been rescued from a severe abuse situation. She suffered from extreme anxiety and was too fear-aggressive to be placed in a normal pet home. I’d done a lot of work with fearful and reactive dogs, so I agreed – not realizing exactly how much of an investment she was going to be.

We worked and trained and medicated and trained some more, using dog sports as therapy and counterconditioning pretty much everything she encountered. It took years for her to develop the confidence necessary to cope with the stresses of daily life, being around other dogs, and meeting strange humans, but we kept working, and she gradually improved.

Along the way she racked up a handful of titles – BH, AD, CD-H, RL1 & 2 – though we didn’t pursue more advanced degrees, as crowded trials really stressed her out. Still, she continued working as my demo dog in training classes well into her senior years, a poster child for aggression rehab and the benefits of training.

After she survived a near-fatal dog attack that put her in recovery for close to a year, I officially retired her from everything and decided to just let her be a couch potato. She was nine years old, and I thought after everything she’d been through in her difficult life, she deserved to spend her last year or two in peace.

That was four years ago.

She’s still going strong.

And now she even has her own blog.

*** Happy 13th birthday, Antares Valenzia! ***

(OKAY, FINE. Since it’s your birthday, you can have the whole bed. And all the pillows.)

The Most Disturbing Things in John Winchester’s Journal:  A Comprehensive Study.

@jaredsnuggles made a really incredible post about all mentions of the boys in John Winchester’s journal.  It’s incredibly helpful for writing reference, and filled with genuinely heartwarming moments and an interesting glimpse into John’s POV.

But as someone who’s pretty infamously critical of John’s parenting skills, what I most noticed was the progressively disturbing way in which the boys were brought up, the responsibilities placed on them, and the way in may have impacted their psyches (performing!Dean, anyone?) 

So let’s take a look at some of the most blatant examples of the Winchester’s upbringing that would have had the Child Protective Services knocking on most people’s doorsteps, and how it may have influenced the people they’ve become.


1.  Encouraging violent, illegal, and womanizing behavior:  

  • Dean turns fourteen today. He took off to the movies with a girlfriend. I think her name is Katie. Quite the ladykiller, that kid. Like I was at his age. Hell-raising, foul-mouthed, full of piss and vinegar. Silas had it right: he’s like me. If I’m not careful with him, by the time he’s twenty he’ll have left a trail of kids and arrest warrants all over the country. 

For some reference, Dean was not “a lady killer” at that age.  He was fourteen at the time, and didn’t even have his first kiss until he was at the boy’s home (where John dropped him) at age sixteen.  
At fourteen, he was still a child, having a presumably very chaste relationship with another child, seeing as it didn’t even involve the rudimentary making out.

  • Dean turns twenty-one today. I’d buy him a beer if I thought it would be something new. He’s also old enough to buy his own guns now. I tried to raise him right, and looks like I did. He’s a scam artist, a ladies’ man, and an absolutely loyal son. He knows what’s right and doesn’t hesitate to do it. I’m proud of him. Now that he’s hunting on his own I don’t see as much of him, but I know he’s out there. When I call him in on a job, he’s right there every time. I’ve spent the last sixteen years afraid that I was going to screw him up somehow. Maybe now I can forget about that.

This one is just messed up on multiple levels.  For one thing, there’s a lot of talk about “performing!Dean” within the fandom, and it’s easy to see where that persona comes from:  this, along with his ability to shoot, kill, and protect Sam, is one of the few times John expresses overt pride in Dean.  Of course a child/young man struggling to garner his father’s affection and approval would adopt the most suitable persona possible to do so.

It’s my opinion that Dean, at his heart, isn’t a “scam artist” or a “ladies’ man:”  he’s a homebody who loves to cook and clean and take care of people, with a lot of traditionally feminine characteristics.  He can also be interpreted as having a lot of internalized same-sex attraction.

Would John have accepted that?  From what I’ve seen, probably not.  Performing!Dean is just the son John wanted. 

2.  Age-inappropriate responsibility/obsessive behavior:

  • I took the boys, said good-bye to Missouri, and got the hell out of Lawrence. If I never go back, it’ll be too soon. Not for Dean, though. The first thing he wanted to know was when we would go home. But we don’t have a home anymore, Dean. The sooner you get used to that, the better. We don’t have a home until we find what killed your mother. 

The fact that it was hammered into Dean’s brain that they didn’t, and would not, have a home for the foreseeable future would have been a tremendous blow to a child’s psyche – particularly when it was just mentioned that he wasn’t speaking or leaving John or Sam’s side less than a month prior.

  • I’ll hunt, and the boys will hunt, and we will find whatever killed Mary and we will send it to Hell. And on the way, we will kill every monster and ghoul and ghost and demon and anything else. My boys will not grow up to experience what I have. They will not lose what I have lost. 

As always, his intentions are clearly good here, but for some reference, this was 1983.  The same year Mary died.  Dean was four, Sam was an infant, and he’s already decided that they can and will hunt.

  • Took Dean shooting. If he’s big enough to try to comfort me, he’s big enough to start learning the tools of the trade. I only let him fire the .22, but he is a deadeye marksman. My drill sergeant would have taken him over me in a second. Times like this, I sure am proud of my boy. I have a feeling it’ll be different with Sammy. Maybe he’s just too young to show it, but I don’t think he’s got the same kind of killer instinct. 

There are two disturbing things going on here:  Dean is being taught to kill at age six, and John’s reasoning is the fact that because he’s old enough to serve as emotional provider for a fully grown man, he should be able to.  And also, there’s something about a six-year-old having a “killer instinct” that just sounds incongruous to me.

This is also one of the few times he expresses genuine pride in Dean.

  • For his seventh birthday, I took Dean shooting again. He wanted to fire one of the big guns—that’s what he called them. I let him shoot the Browning, but I steadied his hands. Sammy wanted me to help him make Dean a card. It was like a normal day, like we were a normal family with a mom who was off shopping or at work or something. Instead of dead. That illusion never lasts. I can’t afford to let it. 
  • Sammy is five today. Thank God. He almost didn’t make it. I could blame Dean, but it’s my fault. There’s enough blame to go around. I missed the kill, and I left Dean watching Sam, and he couldn’t pull the trigger when he needed to. I haven’t taught him well enough. If he is weak like that again, my boys will die.

The fact that he’s blaming his nine-year-old son for his inability to kill, subconsciously or otherwise, in addition to putting a nine-year-old in a situation where he’d need to kill, is disconcerting to say the least. 

  • Last night, Sammy woke up in the middle of the night telling me he was afraid of the thing in the closet. I went and looked. There was nothing in the closet, but I’ve seen too much not to believe that there could be. So I handed Sammy the .45 and told him the next time he saw the thing in the closet, he knew what to do. I don’t think I’ll win any awards from parenting organizations, but five nights running now Sammy has slept without nightmares. Sometimes a .45 under your pillow is all you need. 

Sammy is sixteen years old today. God knows he’s got plenty of torments. Now he’s got a driver’s license, too. Doesn’t make much difference. He’s known how to drive since he was nine.

3.  Neglect:

  • Mary, you know I would never leave the boys with strangers I couldn’t trust. You know that, right? I never would. 

The fact that he is apparently leaving them with strangers, regardless of whether or not they’re “trustworthy,” when at this point they are still toddlers, is by definition neglectful behavior.

4.  Paranoia/controlling behavior: 

  • Dean turns five today. I was thinking about where we’re going to be in the fall, because he should start school. Then I realized that I can’t leave him in a school. Anything could happen. Maybe a place that has half-day kindergarten. Maybe that I could do. I know I should. I know he should be able to run around with other kids, who don’t know how to fileld-strip the Browning. Well, Dean doesn’t either, yet. But he’s learning. He’s got a talent for guns. I can see it already. And he’ll need it. 

I was a homeschooled kid myself, but the fact that John kept Dean isolated and out of academic environments in order to protect him strikes me as paranoid and controlling, as well as bad for Dean’s psyche.  

He’s also been using guns at around five years old.  I’m not even against guns, but that’s just messed up.

  • Dean turns twenty today. He’s in Ohio somewhere, hasn’t called in a couple of days. Tracking a possible poltergeist. He’s supposed to call in every night. Mission discipline is critical. 
  • Sammy is eighteen years old today. Surprised he didn’t take off. We’re not getting along too well. He hunts when we need him to, but he’s never committed himself the way Dean did. Dean’s never known any other way to live, or if he has, he doesn’t act like it. He’s playing the role he was born to play. Sammy’s the younger brother. He doesn’t know what his role is, even though I can tell him until I’m blue in the face and we’re both ready to kill each other. He’s got one more year of school and then I’m drafting him full-time into the family business. I’ve given him more slack than I ever gave Dean, more than I would have ever gotten from my dad. He needed it. Now he’s a grown man, or almost. Time for him to step into what’s expected of him. Dean never even thought about college. We used to joke about it once in a while. But Sammy still believes he can have a normal life, but they’re both more useful to the world as hunters than … what, lawyers? Dentists? Sammy’s convinced himself that smart kids have to go to college. Part of my job is to convince him that college would be a waste of his smarts. And I gotta hand it to him on the brains front: there’s nothing he can’t find on the computer. I still dig around in actual books, libraries, newspapers. It’s all keystrokes and search words for Sammy. He’s done a good job hiding our trail on all the credit cards. 

John never leaves an option for Sam or Dean to be anything other than “what’s expected of them.”  He never asks them what they want to do with their life, or considers their opinions valid.  

This is one of the later entries, so it’s clear John has had a long time to settle himself into his extremist way of thinking, but it’s still disturbing and sad.

  • Sam graduated. He didn’t go to the ceremony. I think he’s still carrying a grudge that it took him an extra year. What do you want me to do, Sammy? Should we have stayed in Lawrence while whatever killed your mother came back for you? Should we have sat around fat, dumb, and happy even though war had been declared? How long would we have lasted that way? 
  • Sam left. I told him that if he was going, it was permanent. I meant it. 

  • Dean turns twenty-four today. I was twenty-four when I married his mother. Sorry, kid. Every boy has to cut the apron strings sometime, and for you it’s not going to be until we kill off a supernatural entity that seriously needs killing. Then we’ll all be free of your mother’s ghost. We’ll be able to live normal lives. But maybe not. Maybe we’ve all been hunters too long now. 

It’s clear that John didn’t consider his children autonomous adults, and expected them to blindly obey his authority.  He also considers them complicit in his “war,” even though they were both very small children at the time.


In closing, it’s clear from the other entries that John loves his boys.  But as I’ve pointed out before, you can love someone and still be thoroughly toxic, abusive, and bad for them.  John’s parenting and projection onto Dean is probably the reason why he’s so uncomfortable with his own femininity (and ~possible~ bisexuality), and why he feels so continuously obligated to prove himself as a Scam Artist and Ladies’ Man™.  

Even Sam, heartbreakingly, has finally internalized the message that he can never be anything other than a hunter, when he clearly at one point wanted to do otherwise.  

So while John could, and did, have a lot of redeeming qualities, and wound up sacrificing himself for his son’s benefit, I hope this will lay to rest the debate about whether or not he was a good father.

~BABY MOON~

lite smut, fluff

it was cold outside so, you had the heat booming and episodes of your favorite tv show rolling. your little sister, yenan cuddled up by your side with the hugest grin on her face.

“is he here?! is that him!?” she jumped up in excitement at the sound of a car door.

you shrugged. “it could be him, im not sure.”

sometimes, you thought that your little sister was more in love with dean than you were. she’s basically his #1 fangirl. she knows all of his songs which is super shocking since his songs are in korean and she only speaks english.

lucky for her, she’s been backstage at a few of his performances with you. it’s so cute when they see each other, she buries herself in his clothes, does a little handshake that they made up with him and then she’d sit on his lap and play with his hair until you got noticeably jealous.

you were definitely the jealous type when it came to dean. he was yours and only yours but sometimes, even your sister seemed to get in the way. it was whatever though.

“dean!” yenan screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran to open the knocking door.

“yenan-ah!” dean picked her up by her under arms and swung her around.

feeling a little jealous at how they acted towards each other, you cleared your throat. “hey dean.”

his eyes switched over to yours. ‘damn.’ he thought to himself. your eyes were intimidating him. he knew he fucked up, giving all of his attention to yenan instead of you.

“hey jagiya.” he sat down beside you, pecked your lips and pulled you into a quick hug.

immediately, you recognized that smell that you loved. his cologne was titled ‘bad boy’ but it smelled sweet and innocent, kind of like candy. that was the smell you craved. you craved it so much and at the moment, you couldn’t do anything about it.

“did you miss me?” he nudged you.

“i missed you dean!” you rolled your eyes at your attention seeking little sister.

“shut up yenan.” you pulled her scrunchie out of her hair, causing her curls to fall all over her face.

“yah y/n why you do that?!” she ran away, probably to her room to fix her hair.

“somebody’s jealous.” dean teased you.

you rolled your eyes and masked your smile. he was right, you were jealous. as soon as he came through your door, he was supposed to be all over you, not yenan. it was time to play a little hard to get.

“yupp.” you said as plain as you could.

“yahh don’t act like that. what did i do?” he asked.

you shifted to your side and focused back on the television. you squeezed in a few fake laughs as the minutes past until he realized what you were doing.

“dean! i’m leaving, mommies here bye!” yenan came running back into the living room with her backpack on and stuffed animal in her arms.

“bye my caramel princess. and tell eomma i said hey.” he kissed the top of her head and let her go after saying her goodbyes to you.

as soon as the door shut and the two of you were alone, dean got closer to you and whispered in your ear, “what’s up with you?”.

you bit down on your lip hoping that he didn’t hear the slight moan that escaped your lips. but, he did. you hated when he could control you. when he would make you moan, it meant that you were basically under his control. he knew that most things he did could turn you on. like, just the sound of his voice, his presence or his soft touch.

“nothing.” you responded.

“oh, really? so why didn’t you talk to me for ten fucking minutes?” he placed his index finger on your chin and turned your face to face his.

“because, i was jealous.” you spat out.

he smirked, looked down and back at you. that look fucking killed. every single inch of his face was carved perfectly. his eyebrows gave a mischievous look to his face along with his high cheekbones and tanned skin. he looked like a playboy.

“you were jealous of your nine year old sister? baby if attention is what you want i’ll give it to you.” he kissed your lips.

his lips fit perfectly with yours. although yours were a bit more thicker than his, it still felt satisfyingly equal.

“i want something else..” you decided to make the real first move.

you reached for his pants zipper bit he stopped you. confused as to why he did let you proceed, you looked at him. “what?”

“you wanna do it on the couch? or in bed?” he asked, not even caring about your answer since he most definitely wanted to do it in bed.

ignoring your answer, he picked you up in one swift and carried you to your bedroom. he leaned into you which made you fall backwards onto the bed.

as he left soft wet kisses on your neck, you ruffled his hair around with your fingers. you learned that that fueled him up. it made his performance ten times better than it could’ve been if you didn’t play around in his hair.

“hyuk..” you titled your head back. you were so busy thinking about how good he was that you didn’t realize that he had already peeled your underwear off.

*

sooner than later, your room filled up with a mix of moans and groans from both you and hyuk. sex with him was amazing. he was gentle but rough at the same time. he would tell you how beautiful your skin and hair is while pounding the shit out of you and you liked it. scratch that, you loved it.

“babygirl look at me while i fuck you.” he grunted as he held your leg up on his shoulder.

the amount of pleasure that you got from this position was unbearable, so instead of trying to escape it, you closed your eyes and bit down on your lip. he hated when you closed your eyes while he fucked you so he would anyways tell you to open them and look at him.

you fought everything that you had in you to keep them fixed on his, staring back at him through your thick lashes gave him such a drive.

“don’t ever ignore me again..” he ordered you.

“yes… i won’t ignore you” you sat up on your shoulders to watch him stroke into;out of you.

suddenly, he sped up his pace. most likely because he was near. realizing the stiffening in your legs, you too were near. “say my name y/n.”

“hyuk…hyuk…hyuk…hyuk..!” you moaned aloud.

he slowed down as his strokes became a sloppy mess. he fell on the side of you after you came together. you rolled over into his chest and kissed the chisel of his jaw.

“you’re not on the pill anymore are you? i haven’t…you know for awhile.” hyuk asked, getting rid of the comfortable silence.

you thought of the last time you even took the pill. you damn sure couldn’t remember. “ahh no.”

“i can’t believe im having a blasian kid.” he lightly chuckled.

your eyes widened out of shock at what your boyfriend had just said. hearing that made you the happiest girl on earth. this meant that, he wasn’t going to care about what his parents would think when he tells them the unconfirmed news. it meant that he wasn’t scared. it meant that you were possibly going to have your own little family with the man you loved.

“go get a test.” you sat up with the sheets thrown over your shoulders.

it had been a long time since you saw hyuk move as fast as he did to put on his clothes and head out the door. he was so excited that he forgot all about a shower.

what if you were pregnant? how would your mom react to it? she would probably think that you’re too young and that it’s too early to start having kids when you just graduated from college. the thought of her reaction made you feel a bit worried so you prayed that it would be a good one. that is, if you were pregnant.

you got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower.

*

“is it finished yet?” hyuk yelled from the living room.

you checked the clock on your phone and the five minutes that you had to wait were up. slowly, you turned the test over and indeed, you were pregnant.

trying to not be obvious at all, you covered the smile that formed on your lips with your resting bitch face. you walked into the living area and sat beside hyuk, handing him the test after telling him to close his eyes.

“okay, 1, 2, 3 open them.”

he quickly opened them and looked down at the small test in his hands. with just his mouth in the shape of an o, and his watery eyes, you could tell that this was indeed a very special moment for him.

“im gonna…be a…father.” he said in english.

you pecked his cheek and leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you and lightly sobbed until he remembered that he was man and sucked it up.

“we should tell our parents.” he coughed to cover up the fact that he was just crying.

you giggled. “you’re really gonna pretend like you weren’t just crying?”

“baby i wasn’t, i’m a man.” he pouted.

“whatever you say hyuk.” you picked up your phone and dialed your mom’s number.

“hello?” she answered on the second ring.

“yea eomma, i have some news. are you listening?” you took in a deep breath.

dean noticed your nervous state, so he intertwined his fingers with yours to reassure that everything would be fine.

“yeah go ahead.” she responded.

“well, i’ve took a pregnancy test. and it says that im pregnant.” you smiled a little at the fact that you could say that now.

“you’re what?!” she sounded happy.

“preg-”

“i heard! wait until i tell yenan! i just can’t believe it my baby’s pregnant i gotta tell everyone child im-… where’s dean?” you didn’t know this, but she was jumping around in her place of work.

everyone’s eyes were on her with the thought, ‘what the hell’s gotten into her?’

“right here eomma!” he spoke into the phone.

“congratulations.. i’ve got to go.” she finally calmed down same caught her breath.

“ok mom we’ll talk later.” you hung up the phone and looked over at dean who was dialing his parents number.

“hello eomma? is appa there with you? i have important news.” he softly spoke into the phone.

he put it on speaker, so that you could hear. “yes he’s here, what is it?”

“y/n is pregnant.” he bit down on his lip, hoping for a good reaction.

“what? you’re not married to her hyuk! what if she’s using you for-”

“she’s not, i will marry her. i love her and she loves me. just because she’s foreign it doesn’t mean that she’s different. you have to trust me eomma.” his eyes shifted over to you, he was shocked that you kept a smile on your face.

“i see..” she sighed.

“we’ll support you hyuk. we’ll support the both of you and congratulations to you and y/n. i can’t wait to see my grandchild.” his father spoke into the phone with his soothing and reassuring voice.

“thanks appa. we’ll talk later.” hyuk hung up the phone and tossed it to the side.

“you good?” he asked you, lightly tugging on one of your curls.

you nodded. his mother liked you, and you could see where she was coming from. that was her culture so you couldn’t really be upset with it. hopefully, she’ll be more accepting of the fact that you’re going to be carrying her son’s child. hopefully.

“i put a baby in you..” he poked your stomach. “that’s so sexy.”

you giggled at his stupidness and straddled him, unexpectedly. “promise me we’ll be alright.”

“y/n i promise you we’ll be alright. fuck what a hater gotta say. you’re mine and i’m yours. we’re together until the end.”

ㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡㅡ

lite smut cause, i didn’t want to go into detail with that stuff yet. i hope that you still like it.

keep requests coming cause i love getting requests 💗

outerspacebabe7  asked:

Malec and 14 for the paring and number fic thingy

Magnus stared at the ground in front of him as he sat in the chair. He was shaking, tears were falling down his cheeks and dripping onto his pants as he sat hunched over, but he barely noticed.

He couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t shut his brain off. He denied it to others, but he knew that ever since the body-swap situation, ever since he had to endure such extreme physical and mental torture while imprisoned in the body of Valentine, he’d been struggling.

The agony rune had caused so many painful memories to resurface from the dark place he’d buried them in the back of his mind. It brought back memories of his abusive stepfather. Memories of how he barely got by on his own, figuring out his powers. Memories of how he was just inches from taking his own life.

But the most painful, the most overwhelming memories that the agony rune forced onto him, were memories of his mom.

Magnus knew that his mother would have died eventually. She was mortal, she would have passed away centuries ago had she lived a full, happy life.

But it was Magnus’ fault that she didn’t have that, a full, happy life. It was his fault that she took her own life. He was a monster. Who would want a monster for a son?

Magnus’ mind didn’t register the sound of the front door to the loft unlocking. He didn’t lift his eyes as his boyfriend walked in, didn’t flinch when Alec dropped his bow and quiver onto the ground, didn’t look up at Alec as he kneeled down in front of him hastily.

“Magnus, what’s wrong?” Alec asked, rushed and worried, seemingly not knowing what to do with his hands.

Magnus shook his head, slowly lifting his hands to wipe the tears off of his cheeks, sniffing to compose himself.

“I’m fine, Alexander,” he forced a smile, looking at Alec’s forehead rather than his eyes. “Just feeling a bit under the weather lately. It’s nothing.”

“I’m not going to let you keep doing this,” Alec grabbed Magnus’ hands from his cheeks, cupping them gently in his own. “You’re not okay, Mags. You haven’t been okay for weeks. I’m not going to let you keep pretending you’re fine, I know it’s all fake,” Alec rested their connected hands on Magnus’ lap. “Don’t push me away. Talk to me, please…please.”

Alec sounded so worried, so desperate, and Magnus could feel himself breaking.

“I never wanted you to see this terrible, ugly side of me.” Magnus’ voice broke as two more tears rolled down his cheeks.

“There is nothing ugly about you,” Alec said gently, removing one of his hands from Magnus’ lap to carefully swipe the tears off of his boyfriend’s face. “Take your time, go as slow or as fast as you need to, but I need you to talk to me.” Alec pleaded, cupping the side of Magnhs’ face after wiping away another tear with his thumb.

Magnus felt so conflicted, so lost in his own mind. He wanted to talk to Alec, wanted him to understand how much pain he was in. But he was afraid that he would scare Alec off. He didn’t want to burden Alec with his horrible past, he didn’t want Alec to pity him.

But Alec was…special. Alexander Lightwood made Magnus feel an abundance of positive emotions. Happiness, acceptance, confidence, trust, worthiness, love. There had never been anyone in his many centuries of life who had made him feel anything remotely close to what he felt for Alec, even after just a short time of knowing the shadowhunter.

Magnus took a deep breath, and he spoke.

“The torture that I had to endure while trapped inside of Valentine’s body took a serious toll on me,” he began, gripping Alec’s hands tightly as if the action would keep him grounded. “The power of that agony rune is…intense. It all felt so real, the memories that it forced me to relive. It was like the original pain that I’d felt while experiencing those traumas was somehow amplified, and Imogen just kept re-activating it, again, and again, and again…” Magnus trailed off, his breathing uneven, his eyes and cheeks damp with fresh, salty tears.

“I’m right here, it’s okay. Look at me,” Alec whispered, looking into Magnus’ brown eyes. “Breath in,” he took a deep breath, and Magnus did the same. “Breath out.” He exhaled slowly, and Magnus followed him, repeating the actions until his breathing was steady again.

“Thank you,” Magnus gave a smile, which was small, but genuine. What did he do to deserve someone as sweet as his Alexander?

“Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always,” Alec was being so gentle with him, and while Magnus usually didn’t like to be treated like he was so fragile, he appreciated Alec’s efforts to make him comfortable immensely. “Whenever you’re ready, keep going.”

Magnus nodded. “I’m sure you’ve heard stories about those who have been tortured with agony runes, but Alexander, it’s so much worse than others think. The first memory that I relived was about my stepfather. He…he found out that I was a warlock, a…demon, and he tried to kill me. He pushed my head into the lake behind our old home in Indonesia and held me under. I couldn’t breath, I panicked, and I…I, killed him,” Magnus could feel himself shaking again, but he also felt Alec rubbing a soothing hand up and down his arm, comforting him.

“I was on my own, discovering my powers, trying to control them. I had nothing, nobody to guide me through the downworld. A lot of…bad things happened, when I was growing up. The agony rune made me relive almost everything.”

“You’re doing great, Mags, I’m so proud of you.” Magnus smiled at Alec’s words, but his lips turned down into a frown when he realized that he was going to have to tell Alec about the most painful memory of all.

“This one is…a lot,” Magnus warned, and Alec simply nodded, eyes on him, ready to listen. “I haven’t been sleeping, not much at least, ever since that night that I got my body back. Every time that I close my eyes, all that I can see is my mom,” Magnus heard Alec’s sharp intake of breath, but kept going. “When I was nine years old, she figured out what my eyes meant. She was horrified. She screamed, she cried, she closed herself away in her room. I heard her sobbing, every single night, for a couple of days. Then, one night, there was no noise,” he choked down a sob, tears falling steadily down his face now. “I went into her room to check on her, and she was in bed. Asleep. Or so I thought, until I pulled the covers back, and…”

Magnus took a few shaky breaths, and he dared to look at Alec. Alec had tears in his own eyes, staining his cheeks, and he looked so devastated, it broke Magnus’ heart.

“You know the keris, on display in the living room?” Magnus said through his sobs, barely able to get his words to come out of his mouth. Alec nodded, lips parted, his own breathing shaky. “My mom took her life that night, with that keris. And it was all my fault, because she didn’t want me as her son…because she didn’t want a demon as her son.”

Alec gasped softly and began to shake his head. “No, Magnus, that wasn’t your fault. I promise, it wasn’t your fault.” He finally pulled Magnus into a hug, and Magnus automatically wrapped his arms around Alec’s strong back, sobbing into his shoulder.

It felt so relieving, to finally tell Alec exactly what had been killing him for the past few weeks. It felt as if a huge weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders. But saying it out loud also made it worse. It made it real.

Magnus tightened his arms around Alec as he felt his boyfriend’s body shake with cries. He felt horrible, but better at the same time. He loved Alec, Alec loved him, and Alec would help him get through this. Magnus trusted him.

(y/n)’s Song (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)

Summary: A song fic based on Taylor Swift’s “Mary’s Song (Oh My My My)” watch you relationship grow starting from the time you first met.

Time Period: Modern

Warnings: None really. There is one part that has arguing in it, but it’s not terrible.

Words: 3,400

A/N: Hello! So it’s been so long since I’ve posted, but I’m glad to be posting this story for the first day of my 1k celebration. Anyway, as mentioned, this is inspired by a Taylor Swift Song, so I don’t own any of the lyrics. I hope you enjoy this and have a fabulous day!

Bolded/Italics: Song Lyrics

Italics: Memories

She said, I was seven and you were nine. I looked at you like the stars that shined in the sky, the pretty lights.

You stood behind your parents, trying to make yourself invisible, as your parents spoke to their good friend Rachel Hamilton. A young boy, two years older than you, stood beside and he looked quite bored.

“Mom, can’t I go back inside?” he complained.

“Oh, Alex, why don’t you take (y/n) to the backyard. The two of you can play while the adults talk.” she suggested, giving Alex a push towards you as your parents pushed you to Alex.

Alex grabbed your hand and dragged you to the backyard where a life-long friendship formed. He looked at you and sized you up and hoped you didn’t mind running around and getting dirty. You didn’t.

“I just want you to know that if you try to make me do anything girly, I’ll beat you up.” Alex threatened, as he tried act menacing.

“No you won’t.” you stated, looking into his eyes.

He started at you in shock. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that?”

“You don’t seem mean or icky like the boys at school.” you admitted, smiling slightly.

And our daddies used to joke about the two of us growing up and falling in love, and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes and said oh my my my.

While you and Alex ran around, playing hide and seek, your parents watched fondly from afar. It was silent until your father spoke up.

“You know, I think I see the beginning of a relationship. I’ll bet you that those two grow up and get married.” you father promised, a fingered pointed at your mother and Alexander’s.

The two women just rolled their eyes and laughed, but they thought about the possibility. It would be a could match. Right?

Take me back when our world was one block wide. I dared you kissed me and ran when you tried.

As that week progressed, you and Alex spent every free minute together. It wasn’t uncommon if you ended up staying for dinner at his house or vice-versa.

One day, the two of you sat inside and were talking about school. Since Alex was in fourth grade, and you were only in second grade, you loved to here the stories of what went on in his classroom. Today, he was telling you had this girl Jasmine kissed a boy named Anthony.

“And then-”

“Alex.” you interrupted and looked straight into his eyes. “Kiss me.” you dared and wondered if he would actually do so.

He sat down for a moment and you thought he wasn’t going to accept the dare. However, you were caught off guard when Alex stepped closer to you, lips puckered. You squealed and ran away from him.

“No, Alex, don’t. Please.” you laughed, while running outside, trying to escape the boy trying to kiss you.

Oh if you could have only stayed in that time when your entire world was a block wide.

Well, I was sixteen when suddenly I wasn’t that little girl you used to see.

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Sketch (M)

Summary: After sixteen years of dreaming about the same unknown beautiful girl, Jungkook finally gets to put a name to her face – and she’s so much more than what he’s dreamt of.

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!!! After a fucking week of being under writer’s block, I came up with this idea last night and I am so fucking happy with the way this turned out! I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! xx.

Words: 9.6k.

Warnings: Soulmate!AU, Artist!Jungkook. Tons of fluff but balanced out with smut bc I got emotional lmao. There’s also very mild swearing.

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

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