this is just good ol' southern

hux: the Resistance may try, but they’ll never get past Starkiller’s shield!  

officer: sir the Resistance is here




anonymous asked:

Hi there :) I love your take on andreil and I wondered if you would write something about Andrew being jealous/possessive of Neil? I always read fics where it's Neil in this situation.. thank u!! :)

i come bearing gifts, my wonderful anon. this was way too much fun to write. thank you for your request! also on AO3

send me prompts :)

“Kevin called today just to say that he’s emailing me extra drills to add to my training regimen. Because apparently I’m getting slower? Whatever. I told him to fuck off, but like that’s ever worked before,” Neil concludes. Andrew makes a vague sound of agreement, but since they’re on the phone, Neil has a hard time judging just how uninterested Andrew really is.

“Anyway,” Neil says, “I met up with Travis after practice to work on plays. He actually knows his shit, you know? He has this idea to keep Wilson back so that Singh can have better control of the line, and it’s genius. Singh is obviously superior when it comes to—”

“Travis?” Andrew interrupts him, suddenly sounding a good bit more attentive.

“Yeah, Travis Patterson. The one from the University of Texas?” Neil waits for some kind of acknowledgement but continues anyway when he gets none. “He’s easily our best backliner, aggressive as hell but knows where to draw the line. And he’s smart too, like he actually thinks before he makes a move. Which is rare.” Neil rolls his eyes at the general state of talent in the Professional Exy League, even though Andrew can’t see him. If he could, he would probably just glare and call Neil a junkie, so maybe it’s for the best. “I think we’re meeting up again on Thursday to go over specifics, make sure everything will really click before I try to implement the switch at practice,” Neil says, almost to himself. He gets up from the couch and makes his way into his bedroom, opening the top drawer on his nightstand and reaching for the stack of orange sticky notes in the back corner. He jots down “Travis - Thursday @ 7:00” and heads to the kitchen to press it to the refrigerator until it holds.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Andrew asks out of nowhere.

“I have a home game on Saturday afternoon, and then that charity event thing on Sunday…” Neil says, and it almost comes out as a question. Andrew knows this already. His team is off this weekend, but Neil’s schedule is so booked that they agreed it wasn’t worth the five hour plane ride.

“I’m coming. I can be there Saturday morning. 9:35,” Andrew states.

“Uh,” Neil blanks a bit out of shock but decides not to question it. Like he would ever complain. “Okay, yeah. I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, disinterested tone back in full force.

“Hey, are you—” Neil begins, but Andrew has already hung up.

It isn’t abnormal for them to hang up without a proper goodbye, but there is usually at least a bit more ceremony to it. Neil shrugs to himself, chalking it up to Andrew being Andrew.

Andrew fucking hates flying.

This is news to no one. So this spontaneous five hour flight with only two days of mental preparation may seem ill-advised. And it is. Andrew knows that it is. But he hits “confirm” to book it anyway, cursing himself every step of the way. But he could only listen to Neil go on and on about Travis for so long before he cracked.

Andrew knows exactly who Travis is. Travis William Patterson, 27 years old, 6’3” backliner from middle of nowhere, Texas, current starter for the Boston Hurricanes, #9. As a matter of fact, Andrew is looking at him right now. ESPN is showing Exy highlights from last weekend, and Neil’s team just happens to be up at this very moment.

The Neil on screen has just performed some ridiculous move that absolutely should not have ended with a goal but somehow did, and he is immediately met with high-fives from his teammates and an affectionate-looking hug from Travis. Andrew can most certainly be objective, and this exchange looks pretty platonic. But Andrew is also a man attracted to men, and he has to admit that Travis is good looking. Really good looking. He’s got that whole good ol’ boy, yes ma’am/no sir, homegrown Southern cowboy appeal. If you’re into that. Which Andrew definitely isn’t, and he doesn’t think Neil is either.

Andrew knows that Neil isn’t the cheating type, but that doesn’t stop Andrew from feeling just a little possessive over him. He and Neil have been together for eight years now, so Andrew probably has nothing to worry about. And yet here he is, watching several hundred dollars drain from his bank account thanks to this impromptu flight.

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World’s Best Dad (Part 8)

Originally posted by thejabberwock

Summary: The reader spends the day with Gracie before having an important conversation with Dean regarding their relationship…

World’s Best Dad Masterlist

Pairing: single parent!Dean x kindergarten teacher!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language

A/N: I want a cuddly Dean…

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Nero and his alpha mate, Ago Aapeli, a chocobo rancher.

The first time he meets him, one of the chocobos had gotten loose and approaches a wandering Nero, his princess charm working it’s magic and all. Nero finds the bird’s tags that mark its owner, and sets out to find the chocobo’s home. He rides the chocobo until they near the ranch, at which point the bird breaks into a sprint at the sound of the dinner bell ringing. Nero’s never ridden a chocobo beyond a gentle trot before, and ends up holding on for dear life.

The alpha sees his missing chocobo come running in, a mysterious panicked angel on her back, rushes up to hush the bird, and pets it’s beak as it calms down and ruffles its feathers. He looks up to Nero, the prince staring down all starry eyed, with some strands from his braid having fallen loose.

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vanjalism  asked:

assuming the space mice are mammalian it's theoretically possible to milk them. also kaltenecker. (good thing keith is a good ol' southern boy and knows how to milk cows from long days on the farm)

lance: i’m so glad we have a cow now, it’s like a little piece of home :’)

shiro: and it means we could actually have milk again!!

pidge, harshly pulling lance aside: we need to get rid of the damn cow

How many Scarecrows can you fit on a 12x18 inch sheet?

21. 21 Scarecrows.

It’s been so hot lately. Hotter than it’s ever been around LA with temperatures up to 110°F. It’s a new record here.

The living room has AC and I don’t dare use my laptop to produce more heat, so I sat there and took to doodling a bunch of Scarecrows to distract me and pass the time quicker while at home, (though it wasn’t much. Why doesn’t time pass quickly when you want it to?).

Before moving to the living room I was in my room. Which of course was quite warm and my inks kept drying out almost immediately on my palette if too thin. Or they would become tacky and goopy if too thick and mess up my brushes. It was annoying. Haha. Ugh.

It’s gotten “cooler” now. Back to good ol’ 95°F. But I can’t even imagine how much worse these temperatures are going to get in the future. It just keeps getting hotter and hotter.

How do you people in hot climates deal?? 😩😖

anonymous asked:

To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if McCree was a total mutt and has a really diverse ethnic background. I mean that would make it realllllly American. I headcanon his father as a good ol southern Irish boy who falls in love with a Native American/Latin mix.

this one. this hc is good and exactly how i picture mccree 

That Twin Connection



“Y/N, how come every time we play ‘truth or dare’, you always pick dare?”

You laughed slightly. “Because I have no shame. And the game isn’t nearly as fun when you pick ‘truth’.”

“It’s called ‘truth or dare’. Not ‘dare’.”

“Why are you so interested in me, Winchester? Wasn’t it enough to see me running down the sidewalk in nothing but my panties?”

Dean grinned. “That was pretty great. But Sam and I have known you for years and I feel like we hardly know you.”

You leaned back in your chair. “Nothin’ to know.”


You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

“Where are you originally from?”

“Southern Illinois.”

“Is your family still there?”

“As far as I know.”

“What sort of family do you come from?”

“Good ol’ country boys and girls. Mom and Dad married straight out of high school. Had me. Taught me my upstanding morals.”

“Like running down the street in your panties?”

The corner of your mouth raised. “You always do everything your parents told you?”

Dean chuckled. “What made you move to Kansas?”

“Just wanted a change of scenery.”

“So you chose Kansas?”

“You’ve got nothing to say, Dean. You were born and raised here. You’ve traveled all over the country and yet you still returned here.”

At that moment, your business partner called for last round. You stood, stretching your back before gathering the empty bottles from your table. “I’ve got to get back to work. But I look forward to our next game of ‘truth or dare’,” you said, ruffling Dean’s hair as you passed.

Dean watched as you disappeared behind the bar, grabbing a rag and beginning to wipe down the empty tables. He tossed a few bills on the table before heading out to the parking lot. He and Sam loved you and were glad to have you in their lives (you provided a sense of normalcy) but there was something about you neither Winchester could put their finger on.


Sam and Dean made their way around the abandoned building, looking for the shifter. A sound behind them caused them to spin around, weapons raised.

“Whoa,” the man said, shielding his eyes from the beams of the flashlights. “Easy.”

“Who are you?” Dean asked. “Why are you skulking around here?”

“The same question could be asked of you,” the stranger said.

Sam pulled out his phone. “Show me your eyes.”

“That’s the weirdest request I’ve ever gotten.”

“Just do it.”

The stranger dropped his hand, squinting in the light. But there was no retinal flare on Sam’s phone.

“He’s not a shifter,” Sam said.

“You sure about that?” Dean said. “Look at him.”

Sam looked up; the face peering back at him was strangely familiar. “But… that’s not possible. Y/N’s not here.”

“Y/N?” the stranger asked. “You mean Y/N Y/LN?”

“How do you know her?” Dean asked, his voice deep with concern.

“She’s my sister.”


Your brother, Travis, led the boys to a local bar where he worked (yet another similarity between the two of you). He popped open some beers as Dean pulled out his phone.

“Yes, Winchester?” you answered.

“Truth or dare.”

“Well, it’ll be a little difficult to do a dare since you aren’t here to witness it.”

“Then you’re picking truth.” Dean’s voice was hard. “Do you have a twin brother?”

“I… what?”

“Do you have a twin brother?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how–”

“I’m looking at him.”

“Shit.” You paused. “What are you–”

“Sammy and I were working on a shifter case in Southern Illinois. Your brother’s lucky that he spoke up when he did; I almost ganked him because you two look so damn similar.”

You were quiet for a few moments. “Do you want me to send you a fruit basket or something? I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us about him?”

“Because he’s not important.”

Dean’s eyes flicked over to Sam; he couldn’t imagine ever saying that his brother wasn’t important and he was four years younger than Dean. Twins were said to have a special bond, having spent literally their entire lives together, since the beginning moment. “Why not?”

“The bar’s pretty busy. I have to go.”


You hung up before Dean could say another word.

“Well?” Travis asked.

“She, uh…”

“Hung up on you, didn’t she?” Travis laughed slightly. “Yeah, that sounds like Y/N.”

“How long has it been since you two have talked?” Sam asked.

“About eight years. She left town when she was nineteen and… that was that.”

“Were you two close before she left?” Dean asked.

“We were as stereotypically close as twins could be.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked.

Travis shrugged. “She just… up and left. I tried to contact her but she refused to respond.” He leaned forward. “What’s she doing now, anyways?”

“She owns a bar with a friend of hers in Kansas,” Dean said.

Travis laughed at the irony. “God, even in separate states, after years of no contact, we’re still doing the same damn thing.”

1979: Smooth

By @rhapsody-in-flannel: 1979 “Will you two just admit that we should have gone with my plan?!” (btw this is a really clever concept!)

Word Count: 822

A/N:  For the longest time I absolutely loathed country music. But the last few weeks I’ve kinda started loving it. And, I mean, how can you hate a song that uses a frog as an instrument? That’s absolutely fantastic! When I got all of my brother’s songs, I inherited his big library of country music, and somehow this song found its way onto my iPod. I don’t know many Florida Georgia Line songs, but I think it’s time I check them out more :)

Version en Español: 1979: Smooth

Song 1979: Smooth by Florida Georgia Line

“Will you two just admit that we should have gone with my plan?” Dean hissed at you and Sam as yet another person walked up to introduce themselves.

You just laughed, the sound of your good mood echoing off the old barn and leafy trees. Sam, as always, was infected by your happiness and found himself relaxing, despite Dean’s keyed-up attitude. “Dean, c’mon, it’s not that bad. Besides, why would you wanna go to an old bar when we got invited to a good ol’ fashioned southern barbeque?”

“Hey there,” the middle-aged woman drawled, coming to a stop in front of the three of you. “Y’all don’t look like yer from ‘round here.”

“They’re not,” you gestured at the boys, leaning into Sam’s side. “But this smells like my childhood. Feels like home.”

In the two years that Sam had known you, he’d never seen you as at peace as you were in the middle of this crowd of strangers. Your southern accent that was always playing on the edge of your voice had come out in full force during this hunt. You spoke slower, smiled more, and just seemed freer. The hot, muggy air wasn’t as stifling as it would have been without you by his side.

“Then let’s get y’all somethin’ ta eat! Can’t let these two handsome fellas leave without experiencin’ some o’ our southern hospitality.”

You pulled away from Sam and looped your arm around the woman’s, leading the way further into the melee. You fit right in here. As Sam pulled Dean along to follow you, he heard you confide to the woman like you two were best friends. “Dean over there thinks he prefers bars to parties. It’s up to us to convert him of his heathen ways.”

“And that tall drink of water next ta him?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ve got that one eatin’ outta my hand.” The wink you flashed over your shoulder at Sam made him grin and forget about the hot sweat that suctioned his clothing to his body.

The closer the group of you got to the crowd, the deeper Dean grimaced. Country music flowed out from speakers set up throughout the yard, people of all ages milled around, and there was a loud buzzing that came from everyone holding loud conversations. Sam just rolled his eyes at his brother’s behavior. Dean could put up with one night of innocent company and music that wasn’t classic rock.

Once Dean had a plate of food, though, he was in a slightly better mood. You had taken residence under Sam’s arm while the two of you joked and conversed with the people around you, making up for Dean’s silence.

A few hours into the night, people started moving off to the sides, making room in the middle of the yard for a dance floor. Your eyes lit up, but before Sam could decide if he wanted to embarrass himself on the dance floor for you, another man came up and asked you to dance. Without a second thought, you stood up and took his hand.

“Y/N—“ Sam started to protest, but you just leaned down and kissed him quickly, pulling back with a huge grin.

“Honey, don’t you worry.”

And in the next flash, you were out in the middle of the dance floor, easily following the stranger’s lead. Sam was torn between his jealousy at seeing that other man’s hands on you, and the pure happiness that he felt upon seeing how free and happy you were in this setting.

More people skipped onto the dance floor and partners were switched around. No one stayed with the same person for long. Just watching you smile and laugh as if you’d been friends with everyone at this party for years sent a spark of tenderness through Sam’s heart.

Then someone grabbed Sam’s hand and he let himself be pulled onto the dance floor. You spotted him and lit up even more, if that was possible. Making your way over, Sam marveled at how well you fit in here. The way you moved your body and how you locked your eyes on his just made him fall even more in love with you than he thought possible.

You finally made your way over and hooked your arms behind his neck. Sam couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and leaning down until his lips were at your ear. In his best southern accent, he said, “Good Lord almighty, darlin’. You sure know how ta make a man fall in love, and ya ain’t even tryin’.”

Your perfect laughter rang across the crowd at his attempted fake-accent and you leaned up to kiss him. “Oh, sweetie, it’s effortless ‘cause I wrote th’ book.”

“Think you could read me some of those chapters tonight?”

With shining eyes, you grinned up at him. “I reckon we can figure somethin’ out.”

Lyrics and Tags Under the Cut

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are you in love? // hanzier

summary: mike sees a side of richie that the others aren’t familiar with. together, they try to figure out what love is and if they’ve ever felt it.

a/n:  i’m still exploring different dynamics with the losers! i want to explore them all and maybe revisit some other ones! let me know if there’s any that you really want to see and let me know what you think! check me out on ao3

word count: 1047

People would joke that Eddie had the ultimate tool to shut Richie up by kissing him, but Mike knew many other ways to shut Richie up. Sometimes when things got to be too much at home, especially over the summer, Richie would call up Mike and ask him if he needed any help on the farm. It would start with Richie chattering away, but the more he worked the less he talked. There was one time that Richie was talking about something that Mike couldn’t remember for the life of him, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a baby calf taking its first steps. While these weren’t things that he could use to shut up the other boy when they were anywhere other than the farm, Mike didn’t really mind listening to Richie’s constant babbling. While he tended to work in silence, it was nice to have something to listen to while he did his chores. It was even nicer to have someone there to help him.

One fall, shortly after school started, Richie had showed up on Mike’s doorstep with his backpack still on his back. It confused Mike because clearly the boy hadn’t even gone home, but here he was with a look of sadness in his eyes as he asked Mike if he needed any help with his chores today. Instead of trying to think about what Richie could help him with, the other boy simply nodded and let Richie leave his backpack in his room. This time Richie didn’t start talking until they were near the horses. Richie was cleaning out a stall while Mike put a new shoe on one of the horses.

“Have you ever been in love Mike?”

“Did you and Eddie have a fight?”

“Answer my question, dammit.”

Mike was quiet for a moment while he gave Richie’s question some thought. Although the other’s tone was urgent, there wasn’t any annoyance in it. He sounded serious which was uncommon for the boy unless he was one on one with someone. “No, I don’t think I have been in love. Or, at least, not in the sense you’re looking for. I’ve had crushes, yeah. None of it really ever seems to span out, though.” He glanced from the horse over to Richie. He was out of the stall, staring at the inside. It seemed like he was in a trance and Mike wondered what could be going through his friend’s mind.

“Do you think your parents are in love?”


“How do you know, though?”

“I don’t think they’d be together if they weren’t in love.”

“My parents are together.”

“How do you know they aren’t in love?”

“They just fight. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard them say that they loved each other.”

“Why do you think they’re together?”

“I thought I was asking questions.”

Richie shot Mike a playful smile and went back into the stall to continue raking out the hay. Mike laughed and turned his attention back to the horse in front of him. Mike believed there was something more to this than just parents being in love. Richie knew for a long time that his parents weren’t in love, it was something that he’s complained to Mike about before. Something else had to have happened to make Richie start thinking about this, again. He knew that if he didn’t ask, Richie would pretend he was fine.

“Have you ever been in love, Rich?”

The question stilled Richie’s actions and he almost dropped the rake. It took him a moment to regain his composure, but he shrugged at Mike’s question. It took another few moments for Richie to realize that Mike couldn’t see him shrug. He sighed and stared at the hay in an attempt to make sure his voice didn’t shake.  “Why? Are you in love with lil ole me?” he asked, putting on his best Southern belle voice. “I never thought I would find such a good man. So strong.” Mike laughed at the impression, but refused to drop the subject.

“Not to burst your bubble, but no.”

“I’m heartbroken, Mike.”

“I think you’ll survive.”

“Maybe. What about a kiss just to find out if we’re meant to be? You know what they say about true love’s kiss.”

“I’m not kissing you.”

“I swear, despite the nickname, my mouth is clean!”

“Sure, trashmouth.”

A silence fell over the two once more and the barn filled with the noises of cleaning. Mike thought he was going to have to push the topic further, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. He wanted to know what his friend was struggling with so he could help and he couldn’t help if he didn’t know what was wrong. Just as he was about to open his mouth to further the topic, Richie spoke. “I don’t know.” he admitted, softly. He hadn’t stopped raking and it was so quiet that Mike wondered if he had imagined Richie speaking at all. Still, Richie continued. “I know I should say that I am. I’m supposed to love Eddie, but I just don’t know. I like what I have with him, but I don’t know if I even know what love is. It’s such a fucking cliche, yeah? Fucking kid trying to be edgy and claim he doesn’t know what love is? Makes me wanna go beat the shit out of myself. I just– I’ve never seen love. How am I supposed to know if I’m in love if I don’t even know what it looks like?”

Mike was quiet for a long while after that and he wondered if Richie would continue in an attempt to fill the silence. He didn’t which didn’t bother Mike. Maybe they just needed a few moments with their own thoughts before either of them could do anything about this. “I don’t know if anyone really knows what love is. We all have ideas, yeah. I think love is unique to everyone, though. What I consider love may not be what you consider love and what you consider love may not be what Eddie considers love.”

“Well, what do you consider love?”

“I’ll let you know when you find out.”



“I think I stepped in horse shit.”

Ninja Heritage - P2

Told ya.

Garmadon - Norse-Chinese-Japanese. This one was tricky, but also a little fun! The ‘Garm’ in his name means “Guards of the Gates of hell”, a Norse name for some evil dog deity (maybe it’ll show up in Thor: Ragnarok?). ‘Adon’ is Hebrew for-get this-”Lord”.

Wu - Chinese. This was easy. His name is Chinese for “Military” or “(Business) Affairs” (Interesting choice…). His actor in the film, Jackie Chan, is Chinese, so…is there more to it?

Misako - As I mentioned in my last Heritage post, Misako is Japanese-Welsh, but ½ Welsh instead of ¼ like Lloyd. Her name means a lot of things, but my favorite is “Sign of the snake-Sand-Child”. In the film, I think it would be “Beauty-Blossom-Child”, as seeing her poster has cherry blossoms on it.

Maya - Mexican-Japanese. Maya is a common Spanish name that relates to the Mayan Civilization, and it also means ‘spring or brook’ in Hebrew. Maya is also a Japanese name with many meanings.

Ray - Japanese-Portuguese. I decided to add the Portugal part since his name isn’t Japanese much, and his wife has a Spanish heritage too. Anyway, yeah. That’s really it.

Lou - Canadian. His name has French origins, as does Canada. I like to head canon that Cole’s mother is Quebec.

Cliff - Cliff’s last name is Gordon, a Scottish originating name. For those who are curious, his first name is English for…well, cliff, or things by one.

Ed and Edna - The two, as seen from their accents and last name Walker, have some serious Scottish heritage! But the two now are just some good ol’ southern bells and bobs. Fun fact: Both their names’ meanings have something to do with happiness.

Dr. Julien - His name’s spelling is French for ‘Julian’, a Roman name meaning ‘downy-bearded’ or ‘soft-haired’.

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blainesfunnyfuel  asked:

Could I pretty please get some Blaine smut where he dresses up for Reader after she mentions she likes cowboy boots~~ please and thank you!!!

A/N - And here we are, the last of this batch of prompts! After this, we’ll be starting on the new ideas that you lovely people sent my way! Always a pleasure to write for ya, buddy! Especially because I know how much you love Blaine and cowboys ;P Hope this is what you wanted!

Pairing - Blaine x Reader

Warnings - Swearing, sex

Word Count - 1, 825

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Red Team Cooking Habits

For my Last Responders AU. So most stations do a cook out rotation for who’s in charge of cooking and also added some notes on who cooks/brings what for cookouts. So here’s Red Teams.

Sarge: Good ol’ Southern home cooking, smoked BBQ, and grilling. Lots of fried food, gravy, everything seasoned with only lots of salt, pepper, cinnamon, BBQ sauce, bacon fat, and/or Old Bay. Sarge makes the best traditional Southern breakfast with homemade buttermilk biscuits, sausage, bacon, sausage or sawmill gravy, and eggs. Simmons will usually just eat the biscuits with some kind of jam and eggs.

Donut: Donut primarily bakes. He makes good desserts, but can also make various types of breads for fancy sandwiches. For big meals and cookouts, he focuses more on lean meat protein that’s grilled, of course. On cookout days, Sarge and he fight a lot about grill duties. Eventually the department gets a smoker as well as the grill, and Sarge just hangs out at the smoker.

Grif: Mac and Cheese with Hotdogs or Hotdogs and chili is the standard (or some other tv box dinner type of thing), but will occasionally go all out and whip up something that reminds him of home when he was a kid. Poi is a favorite if he can get his hands on it (Simmons loves it and the rest of Red Team tolerates it; Freelancers are hit and miss; Blues won’t go near it). Beef Hekka is hit with everyone and Grif will make Simmons some Lomilomi Salmon on those nights.

Simmons: His cook nights are…difficult. He’s a Pescetarian (he was vegan for a looong time, but military kind of broke him from that). Most nights he just makes salad and buys a bag of rotisserie chicken and an appropriate dressing. Some nights he’ll make some fancy fish dishes or he’ll try a new vegetarian recipe. It’s…very mixed results. There’s a few preferred favorites from Simmons “experimental” nights, but most will just order take out.

Lopez: Yes he can make Texmex as well as some amazing Mexican dishes and usually does. Simmons loves his pico de gallo and will scarf a whole bowl by himself. There’s also this shredded pork red sauce thing he makes that just blows everyone’s minds. He won’t say what’s in it, but it’s best slow cooked in the smoker. The other big thing Lopez makes is burgers. He actually cooks with a bunch of different seasonings and will try different combinations. If Simmons hasn’t done anything to piss him off, he’ll make Simmons a veggie burger. Sarge back seat cooks and asks why he always adds all “dem fancy spices; salt and pepper is perfect for everything!”


It’s a pretty busy afternoon for B. today. She’s having the girls from ‘30 Something’ come over for Monte Cristos. Even though she didn’t need advice from good ole’ Daula Peen, she sure did enjoy watching her on the tube…

B: Now you know that is just too much butter! You’re giving us southern gals a bad rap Mrs. Peen! 

*Disclaimer** Sprouts is a family comic on the joys and woes of raising little pixels. It’s about parenting, motherhood, companionship, and a few married couple’s wing-and-prayer approaches to balancing it all. ♥**

anonymous asked:

Umm yea..... I wasn't trolling you. I really want to hear your thoughts on j2. We obviously know jared and Jensen's wives are not beards. I wanted to know if you thought Jensen and Jared are romantically together instead of cockles, in addition to cockles or not a all.

Alright– my apologies. Just the way that last ask was worded made it seem like you might be looking to start an argument (basically it seemed like you already had an opinion on all this and just wanted me to disagree with you … it’s happened before.)

So in my opinion, J2 are very much like the brothers we see on the show. They are protective of one another, they care about one another and they depend on each other more than anyone else when it comes to serious situations. Now, unlike the show– Jared and Jensen have a super strong bromance on top of it all. As I said before, a bromance is different than a romantic relationship. It basically just allows two male friends to be as affectionate as females can be with one another: touching, hugging, having deep conversations, vocally saying “I love you” without embarrassment– this is all perfectly acceptable in a bromance. And we’ve seen Jensen and Jared do all those things numerous times– and that’s because there is no question about them being the best of friends. I do not see them being romantic though, that is just not how their personalities come off to me. Jensen acts like the typical older brother-- the protector, the voice of reason. Jared acts like the typical younger brother-- head strong and silly, but loyal and adoring. Their actions all cater to these roles … unless they’re joking around and playing it up for an audience, that is. I just don’t see them being “flirtatious” with one another. They really do have this deep, brotherly bond– and it’s strong and unbreakable, but it is not romantic.

Now, of course, Jensen and Misha could be the same way, but so much of how they act around one another does not fall between those “brotherly” borders. The touches linger too long, the stares are too deep and examining. The compliments are far too intimate and the blushes, too immediate. They act like flirtatious high school kids, no matter if they’re on stage or if someone catches them in a private moment. I will be the first to admit: that all this doesn’t automatically point to them being romantically involved, but it sure as hell doesn’t not point to it either.

With that being said, it’s obvious that they all love their wives and their families. Those marriages are true and strong, and every one of those guys would die for their spouses– no question. But we know that Misha and Vicki accept and practice polyamory; and Danneel has stated that she thinks openness in relationships is fine as long as everyone is on board, and Jensen certainly doesn’t seem unopposed to it when Misha is beside him. Given– I don’t know what Jared and Gen’s stance on everything is, they could be just as open as everyone else … but it would surprise me. As crazy and goofy as Jared is, he seems like the most conservative and traditional of the bunch. He is much more your typical “guy’s guy” – much more than Jensen and WAY more than Misha. I think Jared really loves having a wife, three kids, a home and a career just like a good ol’ Texan boy should (according to the ‘southern way’ of life). Those things instill pride in him and he wouldn’t do anything to disturb that balance, nor does he have the desire to disturb it. He strikes me as 100% heterosexual, but still comfortable enough with himself and his sexuality to be over the top with his guy friends. He’ll grope and he’ll stroke them and make kissy faces until the end of time, but it’s all just a joke.

The same can’t be said for Jensen and Misha’s actions. Those touches don’t tend to be silly.

If anyone is in a relationship on the set of Supernatural– my money is on Jensen and Misha.


Every last dime ... I’m putting it on Cockles.

I Admit Nothing -- Tim Drake x Reader

Here’s another request! I had fun writing this one as a friend of mine just recently set me up with someone. This isn’t based off our interactions though, just so you know. Enjoy my lovelies!

The request can be found here.

Word Count: 785

You took a sip from your drink as your (E/C) eyes swept across the room once more.

The restaurant was one of your favorites. It was surprising to find a place that served good ol’ Southern cooking in a city like Gotham. You missed your home down South, so any forms of comfort you took full advantage of. You’d originally moved to Gotham for school. After graduation, you’d been offered a job at Wayne Enterprises and took it without hesitation. The pay was good and you were actually using your mechanical engineering degree. Which is how you found yourself in the current situation.

You had been good friends with Barbara Gordon since freshmen year of college. She had tried her hardest to get you out on the Gotham dating scene multiple times over the years to no avail. It’s not that you weren’t interested in dating, but you didn’t exactly make an effort to put yourself out there either. Babs had finally worn you down and got you to agree to let her set you up. She assured you that you’d like the mystery guy and that the two of you had a lot in common. You wanted to believe, but past experiences had taught you not believe everything you were told.

“Excuse me,” a voice asked cutting into your thoughts. “Are you (Y/N)?”

You glanced at the stranger. He was an attractive man, more than likely in his early twenties. He had gorgeous black hair that was slightly spiked. His blue eyes gleamed with curiosity as he stared at you. You let your eyes soak in his lean and muscular form. It was obvious he worked out in some capacity. He wore a plain grey t-shirt with some band name you had never heard of on it along with blue jeans and a belt. His hands were in his pockets and he stood slightly leaning to one side.

Realizing he had asked you a question and that you had been staring, your cleared your throat.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Tim. Nice to meet you.”

You stuck out your hand to him. He stared at it for a moment before reaching out and giving it a small shake. With that done. He slid into the booth across from you. You pushed the menu towards him. Tim nodded his thanks then opened it. He was still looking over the menu when your waiter came to take his drink order. Once the waiter had walked off, the dark-haired man looked up at you curiously.

“So, Barbara tells me you’re from the South. Which state?”

“The Volunteer State.” Seeing that he didn’t quite get your joke, you smiled sheepishly. “Uh…Tennessee.”

“Ah, I’ve never been there. Is it nice?”

This rest of your conversation took a similar route. You would ask him a question, he’d answer. He would ask you a question, you’d answer. You were pleasantly surprised to find out that your college friend was right, you and Tim did have a lot in common. Of course, you two did have some different tastes: he loved coffee while your preferred tea, he wasn’t big on country music while you loved it. The differences weren’t enough to chase you away though. Soon the two of you were laughing and having a good time.

“I can’t believe I almost said no to this blind date. Barbara has been trying to set me up for years.”

You laughed. “Same here! I honestly didn’t think I’d have this much fun.”

“Me too! I’ll never tell her that though.”

“She can get kind of full of herself at times, huh?”

“You can say that again!” Tim smiled at you. “So, do you want to do anything after dinner?”

You spent the next three hours walking around Gotham with Tim. He was very knowledgeable of the city, even more so than you. Of course, you had been somewhat of a hermit while in college. He pointed out good places to visit and areas to avoid at all costs. All in all, it was an enchanting evening.

You had just stepped into your apartment after saying goodnight with Tim when your phone rang. You knew who it was without even looking at the caller ID. Sighing in annoyance, you begrudgingly answered the ringing device.

“What is it Barbara? It’s been a long night and I’m exhausted.”

“So…” She hesitated to speak. “The date didn’t go well.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh! Then it did go well!”

“I didn’t say that either.” You replied with a bored tone.

“C’mon (Y/N)! Give me something here! At least admit you had fun!”

You smirked at her childish behavior. “I admit nothing. Night Babs!”

~Mod Nerd Bird

She is fresh apple cobbler made the real way and topped with homemade vanilla ice cream that coats your tongue in heaven. She’s clothes drying in the hot southern summer air, an occasional breeze of relief passing by, making faded linen and cotton flutter like that American flag on the back of every good ol’ boy’s truck. She’s hats taken off the second you walk into a building, especially in the presence of a woman. Thank ya ma'am and no sir, darlin’ and bless yer soul. Old men playin’ their acoustic guitars worn out just as much as them around bonfires the whole town goes to. Everyone knows everyone and at least three generations back, really. Travis is in jail again for god knows what and y'all know Chrissy ain’t bailin’ his sorry ass out this time. Mason jars as glasses and everyone is so damn tired of the rest of the country stealing that and making it a fad. But they laugh at people who pay 50 bucks for a four jar set from some place in New York City.

                                    “Bless your heart, Darlin’.”

                                                       private selective plot heavy oc by mollie kate

anonymous asked:

to the anon who wants a book about a butch who's treated right: I'm currently in the process of writing a book about a tall blonde butch (think Gwendoline Christie) who takes over her late father's farm and falls in love with the local (4'9) florist. there will be no makeovers to make her feminine, no unchallenged comments about her butchness being a bad thing/needing to change/making her ugly/unloveable. just pure, shy, good ol' southern butch love. (1/2)

currently there’s a private fb group for butches who make things (crafts, art, writing, ext) that I’m in and will be posting updates at if you want to keep up with it. for entry ask starryweever. if you can’t, ask her to give you my url (she should know who I am) and I’ll be sure to let you know when it’s out =) (2/2)

Please publish that book.

-Mod Noel