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#or b) ask me about led zepplin
girlwithsword · 3 years
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i hate myself for this but i want a destiel sticker or pin thats low key enough that only folks who are in the desticule will get it - i dont want ppl who are Aware to notice, only fellow sufferers - recommendations?
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sadgirlkendall · 3 years
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i was tagged by @euphcme like a while ago but i forgot!! my b!! thanks for tagging me love!
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rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better
name/nickname:  jhovanna ・ gender: idk not a man tho 😌 ・ star sign: taurus ・ height: 4′10″ (short king <33) ・ time: 10:21 pm ・ birthday: may 6th ・ favorite bands: my chemical romance, fleetwood mac, haim, hurts, led zepplin, mana, maneskin, placebo, radiohead ・ favorite solo artists: megan thee stallion, rina sawayama, olivia rodrigo, nina simone, mitski, phoebe bridgers, fiona apple, orville peck, juan gabriel, frank ocean, banks ・ song stuck in my head: devuelveme a mi chica by hombres g ・ last movie: the secret world of arriety ・ last show: don't f**k with cats ・ when did I create this blog: idk i'm pretty sure like sometime during my last year of high school like maybe 2016 ・ what do I post: cool stuff from the people i follow and like fandom stuff ・ last thing googled: "hattie mcdaniel" ・ other blogs: my main blog grlsandgays :^) ・ do I get asks: nah lol ・ why I chose my url: i'm a socialist and it was surprisingly available ・ following: 247 ・ followers: 338 ・ average hours of sleep: idk maybe 6-10hrs it's really unhealthy ・ lucky number: i like the number 7 but i don't rlly have a lucky number ・ instruments: i used to play violin but i spent equal time in choir in elementary and high school ・ what am I wearing: big tshirt ・ dream job: i think i've come to the conclusion that i don't have one like i would be happy to talk at length about sociology of race/ethnicity so like a professor ・ dream trip: i want to see the northern lights maybe like alaska but also i want to go to like southern italy too ・ favorite food: tamales verdes, mole de olla, almond crossaints ・ nationality: amercan (derogatory) ・ favorite song: right now stars (live from montreux) by nina simone ・ last book read: the end of policing by alex s. vitale・ top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: a:tla universe, h*rry p*tter universe (shhh i know), my neighbor totoro
tagging: @treasureislandpdf, @eldestdaughters, @ffaheys, @piinkinthenight, @hunybody, @frogdilf, @theophagism, @sunnaybunnay, @poademeron
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Getting Warmer - B. Hargrove
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TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE
Original story by sarcastically-defensive17
Never in her life had she taken her heels off to drive. She was practically expert at the action of driving with stilettos on.
Unlike the rest of her life, this situation called for a foot to the gas harder than she was willing to forgo one of the many pairs of black stilettos she owned.
She never thought she would be in such a rush for somebody like him.
To her, he didn’t deserve to play the damsel in distress. He was rude, arrogant, the perfect representation of everything wrong with the middle class white male of the 80’s.
Yet here she was, forcing her canary yellow Chevy to go as fast as it could just to get to where he needed her to be.
He was in trouble, and no matter how much she didn’t like somebody, Y/N Henderson didn’t let another suffer just because of her personal feelings.
Her feet were bare as she pulled up to the parking lot of the high school. It was far too late for anybody to be there, but he told her to meet him there.
That, and it was an early Saturday morning.
The blue Camaro stood out in the early morning light and as she pulled up next to it, she could see just how disheveled they man leaning against the side of the vehicle was.
His lip was split and he was sporting an already bruising eye, but he still smirked when she got out of the car. He took a moment to adjust to the sight of her without her heels.
She was tiny compared to him.
Her hands were on his face in seconds, tilting it every which way so she could survey the damage.
“What happened? Are you okay? Where’s max?” Her questions came out lightning fast as she furrowed her brows in confusion.
Billy took the opportunity to notice how her nose crinkled slightly when she concentrated.
“Nice to see you too, princess,” he smirked down at her, offering a wink. “Maxine is fine. She’s in bed.”
She was tired, her hair was a mess and she was hungry. She was not in the mood for his question dodging.
“You answered one of three questions. What about the other two?”
Her arms crossed underneath her chest, and she rolled her eyes as Billy shamelessly gazed at her breasts.
“Look, I don’t have the care to stand around while you perv on me.” She watched as his blue eyes raised to meet her own. “I came here because you said you needed help, and I show up and you’re bruised and battered. I understand you might not be ready to talk right now but I won’t stand here while you eye me like a piece of meat. I’m a woman, not an object for your viewing pleasure, Billy.”
She was annoyed, anybody could be able to tell that. She hadn’t snapped at him, but she sure as hell didn’t say it in a way that can be brushed off.
She knew when to be stern, and from his past experience, she also knew when to get vicious.
He felt like a scolded child and he filled with guilt.
He shouldn’t have called her. He shouldn’t have asked her to meet him. He shouldn’t have ran out. He should have just stayed in that house with him.
She could notice the shift in Billy almost immediately. His eyes seemed to sink in and the smirk on his face took a significant hit. Yet the corners of his mouth were still turned upwards. In more of a sad smirk now.
“Right now, I want nothing more than to tell you everything about my life,” Billy spoke, and Y/N could see the unshed tears that mask his blue eyes. “But I don’t want to dampen the mood just as our night is beginning.”
Y/N deadpanned.
“Okay, sorry, morning.” Billy laughed softly. “How about we start by getting something to eat? I dragged you out here, the least I can do is take you for some breakfast.”
Y/N nodded softly, stepping towards her car. She didn’t miss the way Billy’s face dropped at her slight departure.
He peered back up when she pulled a pair of fluffy boots from the boot of her car and slipped them onto her feet. She pulled the passenger door of Billy’s Camaro open and rose her head to look at him before she slipped in.
“I’m not waiting around all night. You said breakfast, that’s like love language to me.”
Billy shook his head with a laugh before climbing into the car beside the girl.
He hated that he had fallen so hard for her, but he couldn’t stop himself now.
To say Y/N was surprised by the state of his car interior would be an understatement.
She couldn’t find a speck of dust anywhere. The leather seats were void of any mess, the floor looked as if it was vacuumed regularly and there was no rubbish anywhere.
It was a happy surprise, as she kept her Chevy in the same state.
What wasn’t shocking, was the music Billy listened to. There was a cassette in the radio, blasting a number of rock songs.
The car ride was short, so she only heard a few tunes.
The Ramones, Zepplin, the Stones. Everything she expected.
Every time she allowed herself to think that Billy wasn’t the stereotypical wannabe bad boy, she was proven wrong.
Sure, he kept his car clean. Sure, he rang her in the middle of the night with his breath shaking through sobs.
Sure, he had an earring that she didn’t know about and was interested in.
“You have your ear pierced?” She blurted, dude way aware that she had been staring at him for a few minutes.
He was aware of it, his smirk was evidence.
He made a noise of agreement. A deep rumble from the back of his throat.
“Got it before we left California to piss off-“ he stopped short. He didn’t want to tell her who he wanted to provoke, but part of him was longing to tell her how he intentionally made decisions against his fathers wishes.
“To piss off who?” She had a critical eye. She was curious and wouldn’t let him end a statement with no conclusion.
“Uh, my ex girlfriend. She didn’t think guys should get pierced so I wanted to prove her wrong before I left.”
He looked nervous. Y/N could tell he was lying but she chose not to push him.
She was often good at reading people but Billy was proving to be an enigma.
If she had to guess where his bruises came from, she would say from fighting with some other teenage boy.
She couldn’t explain the emotion that she heard through the phone though.
They pulled up to a small diner not far from the school. Before Y/N could even open her door, Billy had pulled it open and he was waiting for her to step out.
His movements halted at the look of shock on her face and he couldn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks.
“Oh! Sorry. S’a force of habit. Usually I do that for my step-mum,” his voice was low, almost shy.
“It’s alright, Billy. I don’t mind,” she said, standing up from the low car.
He smiled at the reassurance.
Billy generally acted in ways to provoke others. He intentionally acted out, in hopes that he could receive some positive attention. Hell, he was happy with negative attention from anybody but his father.
He didn’t often receive positive attention unless it was from some girl who wanted to end up underneath him, but Y/N wasn’t like that. And that made her much more enticing.
That, and the amazing car she drove, the way she didn’t take shit, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up in class when the topic shifted to something she was interested in.
The odd way she wore black stilettos all of the time, and the way she looked at the moment with her hair blowing in the wind and her soft shoes making her so much shorter than him.
He could just lean down and press his lips against-
“We going in? I’m starving and this place does the best waffles.” There was a smile on her face, and for the first time he noticed how her face was void of makeup.
Every imperfection was on show and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” He cleared his throat and walked towards the diner.
Once they were inside, he felt a sense of comfort was over him.
The air was much warmer inside and the smell of bacon cooking reminded him just how hungry he was.
He was so angry the night before that he skipped dinner.
Y/N led him to a booth towards the back of the diner, where they could look through the window at his car.
“I don’t trust the asshole round here.” She explained. “I always sit where I can see my car.”
He was slowly discovering more about her and he couldn’t wait to sit down and talk with her.
She ordered three waffles and coated them all in syrup. She also ordered a strawberry milkshake and proceeded to sip the syrup coated waffles into the pink drink.
She was unique. He couldn’t expect anything from her apart from the unexpected.
When he called her, he figured she would hang up. But instead she calmed him down and asked him where the could meet. Within seconds of ending the call, Billy had been in his car and driving off.
Billy settled for pancakes, arguing that they were better than waffles. Y/N shot him an evil look for that admission.
There was no conversation as they ate. Y/N had questions burning in her mind but she didn’t want to pry.
Then again, she also wanted answers for why she had left the house for him.
He couldn’t stop himself from telling her after he had finished eating.
“It was my dad,” his voice was quiet, and he didn’t meet her eyes when he spoke.
Y/N snapped her eyes to billy, furrowing her brows with confusion.
“What was your dad?”
He gestured to his face, not wanting to say the words for fear he would break down.
Y/N’s mouth fell open. She had heard rumors from the boys that Max and Billy’s dad wasn’t the nicest, but she didn’t want to believe anything for fear of it not being true.
“Your dad did that to you?”
He nodded slightly.
He flinched when her hand grabbed his from across the table. She held his hand with such gentleness that he found himself staring at their connected appendages.
“He’s been doing it since I was little. My mum left when I was a kid, so he turned from doing it to her to doing it to me. He’s tried it a couple times with Susan but I try to stop it.” He seemed as if he were in pain.
“Does he do the same to Max?” Y/N could feel herself getting angrier as Billy spoke. This was not what she expected at all, but now that he was saying it, she could see the signs.
“No, no, he doesn’t touch Max. He’s controlling to her, though. It pisses her off. She’s too independent for him. Little brat tried to make a run for it before we moved here.” There was a proud smile on his face. “I don’t blame her. If we got along more, I would have tried to make a run for it with her.”
Y/N’s eyes were full of sympathy. She wanted to help the man in front of her, but she didn’t know how to.
“I’m sorry, Billy. I’m sorry this has happened to you.” She watched as he quickly wiped a tear that had fallen from his blue eyes. He still refused to look at her.
“S’fine. I shouldn’t have called you,” he whispered, nor trusting his voice.
Y/N furrowed her brows.
She turned her head around to look at they diner. It was empty, save for the man behind the counter who was dozing off.
She pulled her hand from his and stood up. His heart dropped for a second, fearing that she was going to leave him.
It came as a shock when she slid into his side of the booth and placed her small hands on either side of his face. For the first time, she could see the pain in his eyes.
There were pools of tears waiting to break free, and the memories hidden inside of him were coming to the surface.
“If you ever need me, you call me. I don’t care what time of day it is, I’m here for you, Billy,” she said sternly, watching him carefully. “Your dad is an asshole, and you and Max deserve a hell of a lot better than that.”
“Susan does too. She’s too nice for Neil.”
“And Susan. Hell, I’ll marry her if she’s looking for somebody.”
Billy laughed softly, “yeah, that’ll really make Neil happy. Asshole can’t even watch me look in a mirror without throwing some gay slur at me.”
“What a butt muncher,” Y/N grumbled.
Billy couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight. She looked so grumpy, so protective. So beautiful.
“You’re the only one who knows, Y/N,” he whispered to her, allowing himself to melt into the feeling of her delicate hands on his face.
“It’s safe with me, Hargrove. Promise.”
It was that moment, that Billy realized, after many months of infatuation with the woman, he would do anything for her.
He had hit the bottom, fallen from such a height for her and he didn’t want to come back up.
And there, in the small diner at 5AM on a Saturday morning, he kissed her.
Delicately.
He would never forget the taste of syrup on her lips as their eyes both closed and they relaxed into the contact.
Tag list: @booksandfandomsarelife1 @originalwhore @http-cherries @cynthianokamaria @ietss @theatrechic26 @winter-captain-01 @thelastemzy @quaintflor @infinitelycharmed23 @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3
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ihave99otps · 4 years
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Witcher Au A/b/o
i am a totally sucker for some a/b/o & maybe a little mpreg. Also i am kinda shit at writing so sorry if its seems chaotic lol. Also listening  to led zepplin (stairway to  heaven/ ramble on), celtic woman and heather dale really help with the fantasy/ middle earth feel! 
After Geralt parts way with Jaskier from the mountain, Jaskier has been bouncing around from tavern to tavern not really staying anywhere for to long fear of possibly running into the Witcher again. Jaskier doesn’t think he could handle bumping into the alpha after he had torn the omega to pieces, Jaskier was quite pleased to keep on the move licking his wounds the alpha left in his wake from the rant. Though his heart ached with the pain from the words uttered out of that bafoon of a witcher, Jaskier still couldn’t help but miss him with his comforting smell of sweat, blood of whatever monster he slaughtered that day and the smell that was utterly Geralt sandalwood, Leather and the smell of magic rumbling white wolf under his skin, plus thoes long nights under the stars huddling for warmth more for the omega as he shivered through the night and how that would sometimes lead to a tumble in the sheets.
Geralt had found Ciri finally after an agonizing long time, the damn bite on his leg still throbbing slightly as Ciri clung to him. He took a deep breath the smell of the young pup’s fear and relief palpable in the air, Geralts chest rumbled with the same feelings though the he could feel the wolf pacing in his mind snarling about the piece that was missing from this scene, a certain sable hair blue eyed singing omega. Geralt could feel his lip inching up in a silent snarl at his wolf telling himself that it was better the bard wasn’t around them anymore, less distraction for Geralt, anyways witchers don’t take mates though the unshakeable feeling of guilt ran through his veins remembering the face the lark had made when Geralt tore him down for his own mistakes. Geralt shook his head from the thoughts and looked down at the young princess, finally placing his arms around her in a hug not sure if it was comforting or not. With a grunt Geralt lead the pup to where he left Roach to start the new chapter of their life the thought of the bard still lingering. The pup turned around to face the witcher her brow furrowed blonde hair fluttering in the wind “Who is Yennefer and the omega who and where is he ?” she asked looking around their setting. Geralt felt his breath catch in his throat how did the pup know, Geralt shook his head and ‘hmmd’ helping the princess up on top of Roach.
Jaskier woke up with a groan flinging an arm over his eyes as he felt his stomach roll with nausea, the bard didn’t think he had that much to drink after his performance. Jaskier slowly rose to a sitting position  which was not the right thing to do as he felt the bile rise up his esophagus he quickly leaned over the bed as he retched over the side. Finally after what felt like forever the nausea had gone away, with a grimace he slipped out of the bed making sure to steer clear of the pile of vomit. he grabbed a towel from the side of the tub and cleaned up the bile. Jaskier sighed to himself he’s been feeling off the past couple of weeks strange bouts of nausea and sometimes like this morning vomiting.He quickly changed into some new clothes with a quick break in between when another rush of nausea washed over him. Jaskier walked down the stairs of the quite little tavern he had found, as he got closer to the bottom of the stairs he picked up the faint smell of someone familiar, at the bottom of the steps he did a scan of the empty pub his heart beating in his chest, palms beginning to sweat. 
Finally blue eyes met with purple eyes, both widening in surprise. “ Geralt’s bard?” the purple eyed sorceress said raising her eyebrow when she saw the bard’s face turn into a scowl his sweet scents souring at that. Jaskier walked fully over to the witch his hands clenching and unclenching as he said “ My name is Jaskier, and I am not Geralt’s bard he made it very clear that he would be better off without me.” he mumbled out feeling putout telling the alpha this as she had a better relationship to the other alpha than the bard did himself. Yennefer’s eye brows raised again after what the bard had said interesting she  thought she could have sworn that when she last saw Geralt and this omega during the hunt for the dragon that they were bonded or getting close to that stage though she had a relationship with the alpha witcher being an alpha herself it was a very thin chance that they would have lasted two strong headed stubborn alphas was a recipe for disaster and sure enough it ended like that. So it was strange to hear those words from the bard, just as she was about to ask another question the bard’s face went pale , he swayed slightly on his feet a light sweat sheen glinted on his face before he swayed backwards. Yennefer jumped to her feet and caught the omega before he hit the floor.
Jaskier woke up in a soft bed and even softer furs wrapped around him. He could hear someone puttering around the room making weird clinking sounds with whatever they were doing, the room smelt of elixirs, herbs and pure magic, thats when Jaskier remembered seeing Yennefer in the tavern he was staying at with that thought he shot up in bed his head and sight going fuzzy as he groan from the quick moment. the clinking had stopped with the sound of the groan, Yennefer appeared  at the edge of bed holding a mortar and pestle in her hands, she moved closer to the bard placing the mortar and pestle on the table beside the bed with something quite fouling smelling making the bard gag a bit. “What happened?” the bard asked the sorceress feeling the nausea rolling through his stomach from the awful smelling paste the alpha sorceress was making. “ You fainted.” she said simply staring at him with a furrowed brow. Jaskier swallowed thickly saliva building in the back of his throat a thin sheet of sweat breaking out along his forehead with the rising urged to spew his stomach contents, he nodded “ uh huh do you mind moving whatever this god awful paste is, its making me quite nauseous. “ placing a hand quickly to his mouth after speaking as he gagged. Yennefer picked the mortar with a quite ‘hmm’ under her breath she returned to the omega’s side after placing the mortar and pestle down. “ You are carrying pups.” the sorceress said staring at the bard as his face went through multiple emotions finally with a chuckle the bard said “ ha ha very fun witch there is no way i am carrying , that is very absurd!” shaking his head he leaned back in to the bed staring at the alpha who would suggest such a thing. he could feel his inner omega preening at the thought of carrying pups , he unconsciously placed a hand on hid abdomen.”The paste that I was making will make any omega who is carrying retch no matter what, you seem to be about a month in the first trimester.” she said looking at her nails waiting for a reaction from the bard “What?!?! I-I c-can’t be carrying, its not possible he said he was sterile!” the bard cried out mumbling the last part more to himself. “ He seemed to be wrong or his seed is just as stubborn as him,” Yennefer said and launched into telling Jaskier the symptoms of carrying. It was finally sinking in for the bard, he was pregnant and carrying the pup of one Geralt of Rivia , The White Wolf. The person who didn’t want him. Jaskier could feel the tears build up as the news set in. 
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myarmsaretoolong · 4 years
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It Slaps, Mister Stark
(Read on AO3)
Tony wants to know what Peter listens to in the lab, Peter would prefer he didn’t.
No warnings or anything apply, just 800 words of Irondad fluff 
Peter loved lab time with Mister Stark; honestly, he did. Every Friday afternoon, after Academic Decathlon practice, they would spend an hour or two fixing up Peter’s suit, or testing new nanotech capabilities to add to Mister Stark’s. Of course, an hour or two often turned into three or four, or until May called to remind Peter that he did, in fact, need to sleep at some point.
He and Mister Stark just clicked in a way that made spending hours cooped up in a lab not only bearable, but something Peter looked forward to all week long. The only place they didn’t quite gel was their music taste. Mister Stark was a hardcore rock fan, AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Queen. That kind of thing.
While Peter didn’t mind a little heavy metal every now and then - he really did love Led Zepplin - Mister Stark played it every time he came over. So, after a long week at school or on a day when his senses were a tad to… sensitive, he’d put on his headphones and play something a little calmer.
Today was one of those days. Flash had been extra douchy and exams were starting soon, plus the pulsing base of Thunderstruck was not helping to ease the headache he’d been nursing since last night’s patrol, not that he was going to suggest Mister Stark turn it down lest he ask too many questions. Peter was only experimenting with new Web-Shooter ideas, anyway, Mister Stark was doing his own thing across the lab.
Peter hummed to himself as he fiddled with the firing trigger, looking to increase its sensitivity - that millisecond extra could be the difference between life and death - totally caught up in his own world to the point where he forgot Mister Stark was even in the room with him.
“Hey, kid.” 
Peter jumped so violently his Web-Shooter dropped from his hand and clattered to the workbench. He turned to face Mister Stark, his expression one of utter exasperation, and pulled out on his headphones. “You know I can’t hear you when I have these on.”
Mister Stark cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Oh, really? I must have forgotten.” He chuckled when Peter rolled his eyes and turned back to his workbench. “Don’t you have that, uh…” He clicked his fingers together, “Peter Tingle! That’s it.”
“Have you been talking to May again?” Peter asked, not looking up. “Besides, you’re not a threat so it doesn’t warn me when you come over and purposely make me jump.”
“I’m not a threat? Oh stop it, I’m blushing.” 
“Not a compliment,” Peter shot back without hesitating, “Just means I can take you down so easily I don’t need to sweat about it.”
Peter watched the smirk drop from Mister Stark’s face out of the corner of his eye, fighting down one of his own at the victory. Mister Stark turned and leaned back against the workbench so he could see Peter’s face, reluctantly, he looked up to meet his mentor’s eye. “What?”
Mister Stark folded his arms. “Nothing…” He nodded at Peter’s phone. “What are you listening too, anyway? I thought we were still learning the difference between AC/DC and Led Zepplin. And by ‘we’ I, of course, mean you.”
“Yeah, I got that thanks. Plus you’ve played them so much it’s impossible for me not to know.”
Mister Stark scoffed and looked around the room as if looking for someone to back him up. “So that’s what you think, huh? Come on then, what’s so much better than classic rock?”
Peter reached out and slid his phone out of Mister Stark’s reach. “Nothing.”
Mister Stark watched on, his smirk returning. “A secret? It must be bad, then. Jazz? R&B?” Peter just rolled his eyes and shook his head, ignoring the questions. “Tell me it’s not Country, at least.”
“No, Mister Stark,” Peter sighed, “Not Country.”
“Hmm,” Mister Stark made a point of stretching out the sound as he plucked the Web-Shooter from Peter’s hand, forcing him to look up. “Electronic? No, musicals! It’s musicals, right?”
“Sometimes,” Peter shrugged. “I did enjoy the new Cats movie.”
“Of course you enjoyed that hell-hole.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Mister Stark said quickly. “Nothing at all. So,” he tapped the end of the Web-Shooter against Peter’s phone. “Hip hop?” He leaned closer, one eyebrow raised. “Girl in Red?”
Peter’s eyes went wide. “What? No! That doesn’t even- How do you even know about that?”
“I’m down with the kids,” Mister Stark shrugged. Peter gave him a disbelieving look. “What then, Classical? Pop?”
“Kinda.”
“Which one?”
Peter paused, “Both?”
“How can it be both? Show me.” He made grabby-hands at Peter phone.
“Okay but, before you start judging me, just consider this. It slaps, Mister Stark.”
“It what?”
“Slaps, it-” Peter sighed, already regretting his decision. “It’s better than you think.” He picked up his phone and showed Mister Stark the screen.
Nicki Minaj - Starships (“Pachelbel - Canon in D” Version)
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Typed Radio Show Episode 1
A. Sorry - Ciara
B. Can We Talk - Tevin Cambell
Music: The Kanye West Album was ehh.. ok I guess but I want more.
This past Friday October 25th came the delyed release of Jesus Is King(formally Yandi) the new Kanye West Album with an accompanied IMAX film. I have not seen the film the ticket availability was wide open for every showing near me. Just paying close to $17 for an extended 31min music video type didn’t seem worth it to me, rather just wait for an online release of that. The Album it’s self was not my type of new Kanye but it’s safe to say if you don’t want a disappointment in him musically just wait it out till the next album. It use to take years till his new music was released, the space between the past couple projects have gotten shorter and shorter. Although some may argue it’s like that for all artists these days in a stream ADD world. His albums take long to work out concepts and change directions all together. This new album seems like they took an inspiration and muse of church and chopped it up real quick. If more time was spent on this it would’ve maybe clicked with me more. Given that Jesus is in the name of the album he name drops Jesus way more than any of his past work. It definitely feels like a hip hop church album. He finally put the Jesus on the Drums like he set out to do with his debut and it’s in full force now. Can’t say I love it a lot and I can’t say I hate it. Just doesn’t have the sawg I wanted that has me doing repeats on the thing. Probably like two songs maybe just one song that you can add to your BBQ playlist but just know if you add it, you’ve invited Jesus to the party so no bikinis I guess... Excited to see where my favorite opinions think of this album. If you ask me Kanye needs to go back to making devil music with the illuminati.
C. TV Party - Black Flag
D. Teenage Lobotomy - Ramons  
Movie/TV: Bojack’s End Part 1 is here and clear. 
The first part of the last season of Bojack the Horseman on Netflix is out. I watched all of it in one day like it was a really long movie, kinda felt like it. Usually with a show like Bojack where I watch a lot of it in a short time frame I’ll forget what happened the last season. With this time the highlight recap really helped and the cliff hanger was a little polarizing compared the past season cliff hangers. To review and not spoil. Bojack gets sober, and pretty much stays sober so far. Actually the character growth is refreshingly real and consistent. Being so use to animated comedies that will use a character to contain a lesson but then turns around to throw jokes at it and the change in development doesn’t stick. In this first of the final installment growth has stuck harder than before and consequences are a bit more grounded. Excited to see Part 2. Sad to see this show go all things must come to an end. This series end comes to a morality complex for Netflix as they are pulling their content out of overseas production. Work environments being demanding and inhuman in animations studios out of the country is far from new but is news that isn’t mainstream. Most animated content from a major studio uses them as cheap labor and animation isn’t cheap so that’s where the corners get cut. Corners such as fair labor wages, equality among genders and poor work environments. There is one throwaway plot point joke the writers made about this subject, not so much as a throwaway more like a tip of the hat to the workers enduing the poor conditions. That considered I’m happy to see the end of this show. 
E. Babe I’m Gonna Leave You - Led Zepplin 
F. Cum On Feel The Noize - Slade
Sports: Diaz on full throttle, physically and personal brand wise.
Nate Diaz was hit with a negative drug test from the USADA due to “tainted supplements” His initial reaction was withdrawing himself from the fight, this is so that he can keep a clear and clean legacy. Diaz is well known for a plant based diet and tributes that in his defense. The content of his response seems to come out of somebody trying to keep him quiet, someone in the UFC entertainment division. Put on your sports entertainment tin foil hats, I smell conspiracies muddied in this situation. They’re no stranger to painting Diaz in a less than state and now that he has proving him self as a comparable player and the star power cemented. Hits are cheap and dirty and Nate is not here to play around with that given his social media response was so brash. Trash talking surely is involved but contrived bad test results with the press is not tolerated it’s a matter of a clear legacy. He seems to be quick to not that run his career he’s got the voice to change that and pave the way. Happy that Diaz is consistent with sticking up for himself. Exciting to see where this situation takes the athlete and entertainment dynamic in the future but even more excited to see where it takes the fight this coming Saturday. 
G. With You - Jessica Simpson 
H. The Greatest Story Ever Told - Ice Nine Kills
HALLOWEEN IS UPON US! I’ve done very poorly this year with halloween celebration festive behavior usually doesn’t hit me till the day before through till the day after. There’s a gigantic inflatable ghost across from my work in my window view, that has been quite nice to look at. Watched a little Scooby-Doo to get in the spoopy feels particularly the ‘Pup Named’ series. So far the celebrity costumes have been less than thriller, seeing my favorite starts in costumes is my favorite but so far few days to go I’m not impressed. I’ll probably give an update to my festivities but don’t expect me partying holidays equal amateur night and an easy way to get into trouble you don’t want to be involved in. Probably staying home and getting spoopy on my own. My costume will be a bunny. Always so that next year I’ll go all out but I got nowhere to go to be impressive so I won’t try.
I. Good Cry - Noah Cyrus
J.  Different - Tink
If you made it this far thank you for listening to me ramble on about different topics and things that get me excited or opinionated. Hoping for this to act as a blueprint for when I start my own radio show in podcast form, there’s some over head production that’s needed before it can get off the ground but this written form is for me to get practice in developing the subjects of content. Please check out the music listed, or at least some or one of them, it’s my goal to be a radio dj personality type and introduce dope music that I think is dope. 
More to come, this is just the beginning. Part of a larger package. 
K. The Carpel Tunnel of Love - Fall Out Boy
L. E.S.T.(Trip To The Moon) - Alien Sex Fiend
M. Weak - SWV
-DJ YEEDOGGY* 
*Name pending. Draft DJ Name. 
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jaynutter69 · 4 years
Text
Bad decisions.
So firstly this is poorly written. Mostly cause I'm doing this on a phone. Secondly it hasn't been beta so mistakes are all mine.
It's an a/b/o which I have a small understanding of. So if it's incorrect I'm sorry. But all that considered please enjoy.
Now that Peter looks back on it. Having sex with the alpha in his living room wasn't the best idea. At the time all he could think about was, "Mr, stark looks so fucking hot in a leather jacket."
"It would look better on the floor."
They had a date planned for the night, however as soon as the door was open and Tony was revealed Peter choked on his own spit.
Cause the alpha decided that showing up hiding an Led zepplin t-shirt beneath a leather jacket was an okay idea. Even knowing how much Peter can't control himself.
Which lead to them missing their date and haphazardly throwing clothes all over the floor. Well mostly Peters.
Tony managed to get his jacket off and his shirt over his head before Peter was naked and attacking his lips.
The omega being the needy, impatient thing he was pushed Tonys pants down just enough to get the older mans cock out. Before placing himself in the alphas lap. Both of them sitting on the couch in the living room.
Once they were done, Peter sat trapped and panting into the olders neck. Tonys knot keeping him in place.
Tony chuckled, "looks like we'll be here for a awhile." He said pushing his hips up into Peter gently. Getting a whine from the omega. "Don't think we're gonna make that date baby."
Peter smiled and raised his head from where it was buried in the alphas neck. "No, I dont think we will."
Tony rubbed his hand up the others side till he got it around the back of his neck. Then pulled them into a kiss. Gentle compared to the animal like kissing they did before.
Which then lead to Peter realizing how bad of an idea it was. Cause as soon as their lips meet he heard the jangling of keys. He turned his head to the door in terror. Aunt May came home early.
"Shit, shit," Peter said. Thankfully the door was already unlocked. Which means when she goes to unlock it she'll do the opposite. Giving him some time.
Without thinking Peter used his legs to try and remove Tony from him. Which made the alpha groan and a pain to shoot up his spine. The alpha push him back down. "Don't, the knot hasn't come down yet. You'll hurt yourself."
"But," Peter looked at the door which was now locked. His aunt wiggling the knob to try and open it.
"Sh, baby. You can't pull it out. I'm so sorry. Shes gonna see." Tony reached over and grabbed the blanket that was on the side of the couch and wrapped it around the younger. Rubbing his back when Peter hid in Tonys neck. "I'm sorry pete."
As soon as Aunt May opened the door she dropped everything in her hands. Her purse, a folder and the keys thumped against the floor.
Tony swallowed, "Ms, Parker." He said hesitantly. Holding the embarrassed omega tightly in his arms.
She coughed, "Mr. Stark." May snapped out of it and shut the door behind her. She looked at them taking in their appearance. Tonys chest on display with Peter sitting in his lap covered by a blanket. Their hips pushed together. And the youngers fingers pressed into the skin on Tonys shoulder. The only think visible on Peter was his bare legs and head.
It's wasn't hard to tell what was going on. The clothes that littered the floor hint enough.
"When did this happen?" She asked.
"About 2 months ago." Tony answered.
May sighed and rubbed her temple. "So, you have been have sex with my nephew for 2 months and I'm only now learning of this."
"It would seem so yes."
"And let me guess. He's still sitting in your lap instead of trying to push you out a window becuase of your knot?"
Peter whined at the way she said it before the alpha answered.
"Yes."
"Well that's just great. Peter I don't care if your having sex with a man half your age. That's your decision. But next time go to your room." She said picking up the items she dropped.
"I really didn't want to have this image in my head."
"Sorry May." Peter said. His voice muffled.
"Could have gone my entire life without seeing that." May complained as she walked to her room to try and give them some privacy. She glanced back and gestured to them. "Just tell me when....that is done." Then she left them alone. Not before cringing.
When they heard the door shut Tony smirked "Well that was akward for everyone."
"Shut up." Peter groaned.
"Hey, I was ready to go on a date. Not end up having sex on the couch. Your the one that couldn't keep it in your pants."
Peter pulled away and glared. "Maybe if someone didn't tempt me then I could."
Tony threw his head back and laughed. "Oh baby boy, I could wear a penguin costume and you would be tempted. Your insatiable."
Peter smiled. "You wouldn't have it any other way."
Tony pecked his lips. "No, I wouldn't."
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parkerspicedlatte · 6 years
Text
Painting your new apartment with Sweet Pea would include...
Masterst
The two of you had been apartment hunting for months
As soon as you'd graduated highschool and were both working full time you realized that there was no reason for living in his trailer anymore
You both were were making enough to pay the rent for a small, but modest apartment
So thus the hunt began
Now, you finally had the apartment and the furniture was being delivered tomorrow
All that was left to do was patch up the walls and repaint them
You two made a really efficient team actually
Sweet Pea would get the high spots and you would get the lower ones
The stereo was going full blast to the beat of Led Zeppelin, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac and Prince (your current favourite playlist was one from the 70's)
Dancing around the kitchen to Fleetwood Mac's 'The Chain' and sliding into the living room (via socked feet) and head banging it out with your air guitar
"Babe what on earth are you doing?"
"Dancing in our empty apartment duh, what else would I be doing?"
He just puts his hands up in surrender, grinning ear to ear as you get into your air drum set as the song got more intense
He adored the way you would be quiet in public and wild in private
Once the walls had been plastered, sanded and had the first coat of pain (primer) you sat down to have your lunch
AKA: Pop's burgers that FP had ever so kindly dropped off an hour or so earlier
Since there was no furniture yet you two sat in the middle of the floor to eat, picnic style
"Sweets what are you using to wipe the grit off of you? That doesn't look like one of the drop cloths I packed."
"It's Jughead's t-shirt." he smirks
"What! Pea why are you wreaking his shirt? Where did you even get it?"
"He used one of mine the other day to wipe off his motorcycle and he got motor grease all over it, so call it controlled karma if you will."
"Pea we talked about ignoring his stupid mistakes rememb-"
"It was the green and grey flannel."
"WHAT! That's my favorite!!! Gimmie that damn shirt." You demanded determined to use that shirt to clean as many things as you could. Until it was shredded if necessary.
Ordering pizza for dinner
"Babe what's our address?"
"I actually have no idea"
He's got plaster dust and paint in his wildly messy hair
Like can you imagine how thAT WOULD LOOK ON HIM ERMAGAWD
How many people does it take to change a light bulb?
Im glad you asked, it took two
You had to sit on his shoulders while he handed you the screwdriver and bulb with one hand while holding onto your thigh with the other
Cuz like imagine what would happen if you fell from that height!
"K enough Led Zepplin, I need something new"
"Babe this is a) very new music and b) Greta Van Fleet, not Led Zeppelin"
"Seriously??? It sounds just like them"
"I know right!"
Anyways he turned on some July Talk, Royal Blood, The Pretty Reckless  and some of The Glorious Sons
He doesn't start dancing like you do but he does nods along to the beat
Honestly he's just happy to watch you do your thing
Request are open! Let me know what you think. Im in desperate need of some feedback, negative or positive. Thanks for reading- xx Reetz
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angelicspaceprince · 6 years
Text
Catching
Author: Anna
Title: Catching
Character/s: Balthazar, Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Cas
Pairing: Balthazar/Reader
Word Count: 1, 767 words
Warnings/Tags: Pranks, upset Balthazar, established relationship (married), no smut but if you want me to write it in, lemme know and I'll make a part two with the missing scene
Summary: Balthazar can't get that fucking tune that you've been humming for days on end out of his head. And when he figures out what the song is, he's definitely less than impressed. - Based on the Disney Quote (#5) - 'If you start singing, I'm gonna throw up', Moana, 2016.
Notes: This is for thewhiterabbit42's Disney Challenge to celebrate 1000 followers and you guys should totally check them out because their stuff is amazing! The song that the Reader is humming is this, which I've been listening to non-stop all day because I love it, and it's the only version of that damned song that I'll listen to.
Tags: @thewhiterabbit42, @elyshakate, @oddone92, @bethisaghost
Buy Me a Coffee
Catching
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You and Balthazar has been married for two years, something that everyone you met believed to be quite a feat. You were the first to admit, if someone said to you three years ago that the arrogant tosser of an angel would eventually be your husband, you would have laughed until you passed out.
But, it worked out. And the both of you were happy.
Don’t get me wrong, Balthazar was still a massive dick and looked out for himself above everyone else (except maybe you), but you usually ended up not being in the line of fire. Which meant you could get away with so much more than the average human.
So, when you found a certain video on YouTube, you and Gabriel hatched a plan to see how long it would take for your beloved to crack.
You started simple, humming the tune of the song in question whilst cooking, reading, researching, cleaning and even, as you had reliably informed, in your sleep when you took an impromptu nap in the library. Gabriel was, of course, helping you from the get go, humming around the Bunker and even programming the boys alarms and ringtones with the tune.
Sam was the first to catch the song, and he soon was humming along with you under his breath. He didn’t even seem to notice he was doing it, when you pulled him up on it he just looked at you like you had grown a second head. So you left it.
Dean quickly followed, humming the Postmodern Jukebox song wherever he went, replacing his usual Metallica and Led Zepplin when he drove. He, too didn’t realise what he was doing, which was mildly amusing to you.
Even Cas eventually cracked, and watching the usually serious angel humming as he worked was something that caused Gabriel to zap the two of you out of the room to hide the laughter that followed.
It took six weeks of dedication, but the one person you wanted to crack finally did.
Balthazar was, of course, the last to crack. He was already suspicious of the amount of time that you and Gabriel had been spending together, and one of your more explosive arguments – mind you, they were all explosive – was about that fact, and that he had basically said you were cheating on him so that gave him the right to find someone else to fuck. It was two weeks and a weekend of non-stop, uh, exercise, before you were back on good terms, but even Balthazar could tell you were still hurt by his comments.
But eventually, he did start to hum and even whistle along to the tune you had started humming six weeks prior. When he caught himself humming it, the look on his face was hilarious when he couldn’t place the tune, and then hysterical when you could see him trying to figure out where the hell he’d picked it up.
Then, the race was on.
You had informed the boys of your and Gabriel’s plans, and bets had been placed.
You: Two weeks
Cas: Three months
Sam: Three days
Dean: Never (which you all laughed at because he would eventually crack, but you could all hear the ‘I really could care less’ accent in his voice)
Gabriel: A month
All of you started watching him like hawks, all getting ready whenever to open his mouth to declare themselves the winner, but the sentence that you all wanted him to say never seemed to appear. You all continued to hum the song to keep it stuck in his head.
Sam was miserable when four days passed and nothing happened, he was sure Balthazar wouldn’t last. But you knew your husband well.
Day fourteen started and, just like you predicted, Balthazar snapped.
“That fucking song! What is it?” He cornered the five of you in the library, all of you looking up from your books to look at the pissed angel, each one with various levels of amusement.
“Whatever do you mean, B?” You ask sweetly.
“The song you’ve been singing for two months that you’ve gotten into my bloody head!” You bite your lip to try and stop the snickering as the boys pull out their wallets and start getting the money out to pay you.
“It’s a remix of possibly the most catching song of all time.”
“Happy?”
“What? No?”
“Shake It Off?”
“Oh, fuck no.”
“Hotline Bling?” You simply raise an eyebrow.
“I’ll play it for you, hang on.” You pull out your phone and start the catchy music.
It takes him until the third line when he realises what song it is, and you smirk when realisation strikes, accepting the money pushed over to you.
“Y/N.” Balthazar states simply. “Seriously?” You shrug.
“Well, I don’t know, its my new favourite song.” You send him a smile with your lips still held between your teeth. “And, it’s not as annoying as the original?”
“It’s still a bloody horrible song!” He protests.
“You didn’t think that when you were humming along to it.” You retort. “It’s really catchy don’t you think?” Balthazar glares at you before flying off. You roll your eyes and look back down at your book.
“Well, that went better than I thought.” Dean chimes in after a few seconds of silence.
“He’s still recovering from our last fight. Trust me, it’ll be brought up again.” You smile over to him before all of you return to your research, your pocket now $200 heavier.
Balthazar was clearly less than impressed about the fact you had tricked him, and spent the majority of the next few weeks sulking, avoiding you at all costs. You were slowly beginning to feel bad. So, you tried to romance him up, especially with the news you had to share with him.
Wine, food, sex. Those three generally speaking worked. And you were hoping you didn’t fuck it up so badly this time for it not to work.
Convincing him to go out was the first challenge, you practically had to drag him out the door. When you told him where you were going, he seemed to perk up. The small, intimate restaurant where the two of you met during a case for the Winchesters had become his favourite. He always claimed it was due to the fact that he met you there, but you knew it was also because they stocked his favourite wine.
So, he was already warming up to you, even more so when you told him you were paying.
He ordered the same thing he has ordered for the past three years whenever you went there, and you ordered something you knew he would never eat with the intent to snatch some of his and him not be interested in yours.
Conversation flows easy, as it always does, and snark and sass takes over the majority of the conversation, as it always does. You made a point of only drinking soft drink, wanting to make sure you were more or less sober for the rest of the night. Balthazar, however, was already on his second bottle of wine. Damn him and his inability to get drunk. The bastard.
By the time you two had left, you were humming the same song that had tormented him for weeks.
“Seriously?” He asks you in disbelief. You shrug.
“I genuinely like it, B.” You apologise. “Sorry, I’ll try to keep it for when you aren’t around.”
He huffs. “Just make sure you don’t start singing. If you start singing, I’m gonna throw up.” You snort.
“Of course, dear.” You bump into him. “Remember our first date?” You ask with a small smirk.
“How could I forget?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Remember what we did after we left the restaurant?” He smirks back down at you.
“I’m not sure I do, care to rejog my memory?”
~~~
You roll off Balthazar with a thud, your hair messy, body sweaty and your chest rising and falling harshly as you pant loudly, B clearly pleased with himself as he pulls you close. “Enjoyed yourself?” He asks, cocky with his ability. You hum.
“Not really, I mean, it was basically thirty minutes of you trying and failing to work me up. Need to get some sex tips.” You can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Yes, I enjoyed it you twit.”
He kisses the top of your head softly, keeping his head there as you shift. “Next time though, you are the one being tied up.”
“Want me to call you mistress too?”
“Queen of Everything Past, Present and Future would be more adequate.” You correct him causing him to snort.
“Sure thing, your majesty.” A comfortable silence falls over you before you clear your throat.
“B, I have some news for you.” You start carefully.
“You did cheat on me with Gabriel.” He says with conviction. “It’s okay, love, I get it. Clearly, you got bored with my skills and wanted something diff-” You manage to knock the wind out of him when you hit him in the stomach.
“No, you asshole.” You respond. “Don’t be a twat, I wouldn’t change our relationship for the world, and I definitely wouldn’t cheat, so get it out of your head.”
“Yes ma’am.” The small kiss he presses against your lips works as an apology as his hands move to rub the sides of your arms. “What did you have to tell me?”
“I’m pregnant.” You look up at him, gauging his reaction. His face freezes. “I’m twelve weeks, I found out on Tuesday.” You explain gently as the news sinks in. “B? You’re scaring me? You okay, beloved?”
Finally, he nods and swallows. “I’m going to be a father.” You nod. “What if I fuck up?”
“You won’t. And even if you do, it won’t be so bad. It’s not like babies are born with a manual.” Worry seeps in. “Are you…are you okay with this?” His eyes lock onto yours.
“Okay? Okay? I’m overjoyed!” Finally, the excitement sets in. “I can teach them to prank the hell out of their uncles and share all my seducing techniques and-”
“Seducing techniques? Like they exist.” You interrupt his rant, causing him to look down at you with a small smirk.
“They seemed to work on you.”
“I just joined on for the sex, if I’m honest.” You tease before giggling as he rolls over to straddle you, purring his next sentence before moving to initiate possible the most heated kiss either of you had ever shared.
“Well then, allow me to seduce you again.”
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floralreddie · 7 years
Note
Prompt: transboy!richie where its how every loser found out that richie was trans. It could be set whenever but modern au could be easier! It could be either richie telling some of them or some of them figuring it out themselves. Whatever you want. :)
i fucking LOVE THIS. i really hope i do this justice okay let’s go i went with the modern au
for those who asked to be tagged in all my work: @arielgirly, @trashmouth-smashmouth, @mzcescapie, @somenates27, @reddiesballoons, @cawcawhawkeye, @richietoaster
Bill: Bill is the first to find out. 
They’re thirteen when he does, and Bill is showing Richie his new iPhone. It’s a short and simple explanation, and Bill doesn’t really understand it but he accepts it anyway because, shit, it’s Richie.
One of his best friends in the whole world.
Bill is showing Richie is new phone that he got for his birthday, and Richie is peering at it with awe in his eyes, because he has some shitty Nokia make that he hates but they’re hard to break. His glasses are falling down his nose and his dark eyes are wide in wonder. 
‘Y-you should look into getting one,’ Bill says, taking his phone back. He casts his fingers over the bumpy, decorated phone case his little brother had gifted him with also, and looks back to Richie. ‘G-Georgie got me this one, and a pink glittery one as a joke. If you e-ever get an iPhone, you can have that c-case’.He half smiles, but that smile freezes.
Because suddenly, Richie doesn’t look like Richie anymore. He isn’t smiling, or laughing, or anything like that. His face is suddenly drawn as he looks away from Bill and down to his jean clad knees, his jaw suddenly tight.
‘I don’t really like pink that much,’ Richie admits, his voice cracking over the words. Bill is momentarily confused because, shit, he didn’t think Richie gave a fuck about masculine shit like hating the colour pink. 
‘O-oh-’
Richie shudders out a breath. ‘I think I need to tell you something,’ Richie rushes out, suddenly rounding on Bill. Bill nearly falls back onto his carpet in shock, but instead blinks rapidly and nods.
‘Ok-kay, Richie…’
‘I…’ Richie sighs, rubs his forehead, and blurts out a sentence that Bill can’t quite understand in that moment. ‘I was born a girl, Big Bill’.
He think it’s some odd joke for a moment. ‘…You’re a-a girl?’ Bill asks, laughter in his voice because, really, Richie can’t be serious.  
Richie shakes his head rapidly, dark curls flying. ‘No! I’m a boy - a fucking boy, Bill’. He clenches his fists against his knees, and Bill stares, smile dying. He has never, not in the eight years he has known Richie, seen him so upset about something. ‘I…I know I’m a boy. I was born a girl, but I never felt like one. So, before we moved to Derry, I started dressing like a boy and acting like a boy and mom and dad didn’t like it, but I chopped my hair off…and I’m a boy. They have to fucking live with it now, because I’m never going to be anything but that’.
And Bill stares, dumbstruck, then says, ‘…Like…transgender?’ Because he’s thirteen and he’s from small-town Derry, but he knows what fucking transgender means. He sees it on the News sometimes, and in the magazines his mom reads.
Richie turns to him, eyes wide and scared and so unlike Richie, and nods. ‘Yeah, dude’.
And Bill nods because, okay, Richie might have girl parts, but he manages to wrap his head around the fact that this doesn’t make Richie a girl. He believes Richie, because Richie is a Trashmouth and a dickweed sometimes, but he never really lies.
So Bill nods, pats Richie and the shoulder, and says he won’t tell anyone until Richie is ready.
And Richie pushes his glasses up his nose and beams.
The sight alone makes Bill all kinds of happy.
Stan: It’s three months later than Stan finds out, and Stan is entirely sure he has never seen Richie Tozier cry as much as he did that day.
They’re having a sleepover, him, Bill and Richie. Eddie can’t make it because he’s ‘sick’, Mike has to wake up early to go to the farm, Ben has his Grandparents staying, and Bev is grounded for letting Ben, Richie and Eddie round when her dad wasn’t home. 
They had spent the entirety of the evening watching a shitty action film with The Rock in it (’he’s a fucking don,’ Richie had said), until Richie and Stan had fallen asleep on the floor, with Bill on the bed. 
It was a hot night, Stan remembers, but Richie had insisted on wearing a large Led Zepplin jumper to sleep in, despite Stan’s confusion. He only stopped nagging an annoyed Richie to take the damn thing off when Bill snapped out, ‘Leave him be, Stan. Jesus’.
Stan had been annoyed after that. Since when did Bill take Richie’s side over his?
But then he’s startling awake hours later to the sound of crying, and his stomach clenches, because that sounds like Richie crying. A shift from the bed tells him that Bill has heard it too, and Stan thinks that maybe Richie is crying about his parents, in his half-awake state.
He knew Richie got sad about that, sometimes. He never showed it, of course. He just joked and laughed louder.
‘No, no, no,’ Richie whispers, voice wet with tears through the darkness, and Stan bolts upright. ‘Fuck, no’.
But then Bill is darting to flick his bedside lamp on, and Stan stares in horror at the boy next to him. Because Richie is sitting there, half in his sleeping bag, with blood on his fingertips and a red flush creeping up his tears stained face. 
‘Shit!’ Stan swears, scrambling to get out of his sleeping bag. ‘Richie, have you hurt yourself-?’ He’s cut off, though, as Bill practically falls out of bed to land beside Richie, his face suddenly pale and his hands landing on Richie’s shoulders.
‘Richie-’ Bill starts in a hurried whisper, as Richie draws his bloody fingers to his chest, along with his knees.
It is then that Stan notices, bewilderingly, the red stain that is seeping through Richie’s grey pyjama bottoms where his crotch is.
Richie is choking on his sobs now, and his glasses are falling off his face.‘I’m a fucking boy, Bill. Why the fuck is this fucking happening? I’m a fucking boy! This isn’t fair!’ Richie is sobbing and Bill is dragging him to his feet and Stan never, ever, thought that he would ever see Richie sob like he is in that moment.
So as Bill drags Richie from the room and, by the sound of it, into the bathroom, Stan sits on the floor in Bill’s bedroom, still utterly confused.
When Bill comes back in, his face is sadder than anything Stan has ever seen. Stan, as he always does when he feels out of place, suddenly has the urge to rearrange every corner of Bill’s room until it is exactly right. Bill sighs, sounding older than his fourteen years. ‘He said I c-can tell you,’ Bill murmurs, moving to sit on the edge of his unmade bed. Stan watches, eyes wide. ‘Richie…Richie’s a transgender b-boy, Stan’.
The words don’t register for a moment, and then they do.
‘…Oh’. He’s shocked. Richie Tozier, who talked about the length of his dick more than Eddie Kaspbrak talked about what flavour of cold medicine he liked the best, was transgender. And Stan suddenly feels sad, because so much of Richie suddenly makes sense. ‘I shouldn’t have bugged him about the jumper,’ Stan whispers, horrified quite suddenly. 
Bill shrugs. ‘He isn’t m-m-mad. You didn’t know. He just…it’s his p-period. I think it’s the f-first time it’s happened. I’ve given him some of my mom’s stuff, but…he’s ruh-really upset’.
Stan visibly sags. Everything made sense, from Richie’s relationship with his parents, to why Richie always seemed so odd about changing in front of the boys as of late. 
Stan had seen the girls in school changing and getting…bigger.
When Richie slides back into the room, cheeks red and glasses askew, Stan stumbles to his feet and drags Richie into a hug so tight and so unlike him, he’s not really surprised when Richie laughs. 
‘Jesus shit, Stanley,’ he gasps, pretending to suffocate. 
‘Shut up, dipshit,’ Stan snaps, pulling away to stare Richie dead in the eye. His face is still swollen from crying, but Stan doesn’t care. ‘I love you, asshole’.
Richie falters, before grinning. ‘Fucking sap’.
And Bill let’s out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
Bev: Bev figures it out within a day of meeting Richie (she notices things, but she never said anything, even though she knows Bill and Stan know), but she lets Richie know she knows when they’re fifteen.
They’re at the arcade, all of them, and Richie and Eddie have gone off to find some ice-cream, Bill, Ben, Stan and Mike are playing some games, and she’s left on the claw-machines to try and win a stuffed Black Widow toy. 
She turns around when she hears the tell-tale signs of Eddie’s laughter, and Richie’s loud ass voice telling some dumb jokes. They’re walking in together, ice creams in hand and shoulders touching, and she smiles lightly as she catches Richie’s eye.
He, in return, rolls his eyes and turns back to Eddie.
The smaller of the two licks his ice-cream and snaps something about Richie being an asshole, to which the taller of the two laughs and coos and Eddie flushes pink. Bev turns way, used to the sight, and once again fails to win her fucking stuffed toy.
Ten minutes later, she feels the tall form of Richie at her side. Eddie, she sees, has gone to stand with Bill and Stan. 
‘You’re really fucking shit at this,’ Richie states, having already demolished his ice cream. His voice, Bev has noticed, is no longer as deep as the others boys. Maybe a little deeper than Eddie’s and Ben’s, but no longer changing as the others boys are. Her heart breaks at the thought, because she knows this would bother Richie. Whilst he is close to Eddie in a way that Bev understands, she knows that in the last six months Richie has come very close to being her best friend.
She can count on one hand the amount of times he has come so, so close to telling her his secret.
‘I know,’ she agrees, finally giving up on winning the stuffed toy. ‘Rich…can I talk to you?’ She sounds serious, she knows, and that is enough to have Richie peering at her curiously. 
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ he deadpans, to which Bev smacks his arm and calls him a dick.
‘No…I just - come here, will you?’ she marches off, out of the door and into the street and away from the others. Not that they notice, of course. They’re too fixated on watches Ben and Mike race cars against each other.
Richie strides out to follow her, his patterned shirt blowing in the wind. He doesn’t wear his shirts open anymore, but instead buttons them up. And Bev knows why.
‘I got you a present,’ she tells him, turning away to delve into her blue backpack. Richie whistles and pretends to peer in, but stops short when Bev pulls out a tan piece of elasticated fabric and stands close to Richie, pressing the clothing tightly between them.
She gazes at him closely, and watches as his eyes widen and his mouth snaps shut.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says desperately. ‘I didn’t want to…want to fucking out you, but I can see how much you’re struggling with your body changing, and I just wanted you to know that I’m fucking here for you, Rich. The website said this is the best binder you can get. I just…I’m sorry, I should have waited for you to tell me-’
But Richie yanking her into a hug and burying his face into her red curls, and his voice is wobbly when he says, ‘You should have, but thank you, Bev. I never…I was too scared too order one, in case the postman knew, or some shit-’ And he’s pulling away from her rubbing his eyes as he takes away his glasses from his face. ‘You’re amazing, Beverly Marsh,’ he announces, taking the fabric from her and staring at it in wonder. ‘I fucking hate tits,’ he says.
‘I know,’ Bev replies, only a little sad.
And Richie glances back up at her, his lip twitching, and pulls her into a hug once again.
And Bev feels like she could fucking fly, or some shit.
Ben and Mike: Ben and Mike find out because Richie tells them.
It’s a rainy day and Richie has just turned sixteen the day before. They’re all a little hungover as they loiter around Richie’s house (because his parents went away for the weekend, somewhere, Richie doesn’t know), and both Mike and Ben are a little confused as to why Richie is more…excited than usual.
He’s practically bouncing around the house, despite having drank his weight in vodka and passed out on the sofa with Eddie in his lap the night before. Bev, Mike knows, had taken about a billion pictures of this. He had no doubt they would be on Facebook later.
They’re all sitting in Richie’s living room after Bill and Stan helped clean away the few bottles left over from the Losers Club night of drinking, and Richie is sitting on the sofa beside Eddie with a manic grin on his face as he talks lowly to the dark haired boy.
Ben knows the two were close, but even Richie’s happiness seemed a little out of place for it to just be aimed at Eddie. Hell, even he wasn’t that pleased to see Bev.
But then Mike is piping up, over the sound of Rick and Morty playing in the background, ‘What’s got you in such a good mood, Richie? Your birthday was yesterday, remember?’
Richie is pausing and turning away from Eddie to look over and Mike, and then slowly his gaze moves to Ben. Ben doesn’t know why, because he didn’t say anything. But then he’s noticing how the others shift, and how Richie looks back around to Eddie, who shrugs and nods.
Then Richie is turning to them, grinning, and saying, ‘Because tomorrow I have my first appointment with an Endocrinologist to talk about starting my Testosterone treatment, Mikey-boy!’ Then, with a thoughtful look, he raises a finger and adds, ‘Oh, because I’m trans. A transgender boy’.
The others stiffen and stare.
Ben is momentarily stunned at how brightly Eddie Kaspbrak smiles at Richie in that moment.
Mike is too busy being slightly offended he and Ben were obviously the last to know.
Still, he brushes that aside and nods, an easy grin sliding onto his feature as he take sin this information. Nothing, he decides, surprises him about Richie Tozier, so why should this? ‘Congratulations, man,’ he offers.
Ben blinks, catches Bev’s hard stare, and adds, ‘Yeah, dude. I…I mean, I’m a little surprised, but I’m happy for you. I can give you a lift if your parents aren’t home?’
And Richie grins, sniffs suddenly, and hurries to his feet and says he’ll go and see if there’s any frozen pizza in the freezer.
‘You made him fucking cry,’ Bev laughs, as Ben looks about in horror and Eddie rolls his eyes and clambers to his feet to run after Richie.
‘N-nice going, Ben,’ Bill adds, sprawled across Stan’s lap and nursing a killer headache. 
Mike laughs and Ben gapes. ‘I didn’t mean to!’
Eddie: Eddie has never, not once, had to talk to Richie about the fact that Richie is transgender, just as Richie has never bothered to mention it to Eddie.
Neither can remember when it became common knowledge between the two; that each of them was aware the other know. Richie remembers a time, when they were eight, in which Eddie’s mom had presented Richie’s bloody knee with the only plaster she had in the house: a Barbie one. 
Eddie had seen the look of horror on young Richie’s face, and hadn’t understood it, but had still insisted sweetly to his Ma that they must have other plasters somewhere.
He finds out, when they’re lying in Richie’s room when they’re sixteen and the others have left Richie and he had just that day told Ben and Mike, that his mom had forced him to dress like a girl for the first few years of his life. 
‘I always fucking hated it,’ Richie mumbles, lying spread eagle on his bed with Eddie resting on his bound chest. ‘I told them it wasn’t fucking me’.
Richie is a boy. Eddie knows that. Eddie has always known that. It had never, not once, fallen into his mind that Richie Tozier is anything but.
‘Are you excited, Trashmouth?’ Eddie asks, still a little bleary with hangover. He had woken up that morning on Richie’s couch, with Richie’s vodka breath in Eddie’s face. He had, of course, ordered the curly-haired boy to brush his teeth then and there.
‘You smell like a fucking brewery,’ he has snapped, as Richie tried to pepper his face with kisses as Bill snorted away on the carpet. Eddie sometimes thinks that in the whirlwind of Richie telling them all of being transgender, no one really gave a fucking that he and Eddie were, somehow, a thing. 
That, or not one really gave a shit. Eddie, once again, can’t exactly pinpoint when kissing Richie became a habit. 
He feels Richie shift as he grins. ‘I am fucking pumped, Ed’s. You think I’m hot now, you just wait. All the articles I’ve on read taking T say-’
And Eddie looks up, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, and stares in wonder at the boy he is so hopelessly in love with. He figures he’ll never love a sight more than Richie right now, who is beaming with happiness at the prospect of getting what he has wanted for the past sixteen years. His curls are a mess, his cheeks are freckled and pink, and his thick glasses are sliding down his long nose. 
So, as Eddie plants a kiss against Richie red mouth, the other boy barely bats an eyelash and instead says, ‘Um, I was fucking talking, Kaspbrak’.
Eddie rolls his eyes, settles back down, and waves a hand. ‘Fine, then. Continue’.
‘Nah, actually, do that again, Ed’s,’ Richie decides, grabbing Eddie to pull his mouth against his again, and Eddie wriggles and laughs and smacks his boyfriends shoulder.
‘Don’t call me Ed’s!’
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He Finds Out You Can Sing/Play An Instrument (Preference #3)
Luke
You’ve been so busy with school recently, not having a second to pause and look around, it’s finish one task then move onto the next. You haven’t had enough time to see anyone, let alone enough time to eat and take care of yourself. You haven’t slept properly in 2 weeks – much to your boyfriend Luke’s dismay. His favourite part of the day is the mornings in bed with you, where you’re both sleepy, small pecks are given and received, giggles thrown around, and arms wrapped loosely around each other, but because you need to get up early, he’s missed out on that. Fortunately now that the stressful time is up, and you can actually live properly, you’ve had time to catch up on sleep as of last night, although Luke yet again missed his morning cuddles, he let it slip because you looked so peaceful and calm in the first time in weeks, so he just kissed your forehead and got out of bed. As Luke was so caught up in the song he was playing hours later, he didn’t notice you come down the stairs. It was when you sat down next to him he noticed, and gave you a small smile, slightly pausing, but you nod at him to keep going as you run your hand down his back and you sing the words to Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World. Once he gets used to your voice, he joins in with your singing, loving the sound of your voices weaving together perfectly. When the song comes to a close, Luke does one extra strum and puts his guitar down. “Um, since when could you sing?” He asks a little puzzled. “Since never, because I can’t.” You answer. “Uh, wrong answer.” He tells you. “It is?” You raise an eyebrow, tucking your legs under yourself, because your bare legs are beginning to get cold, as you’re only wearing one of Luke’s sweatshirts. “Yeah, we’ve been together 4 years, I’ve known you 2 years before we started dating, but it takes me 6 years to find out that you can sing?” He questions. “Is this a dream or something?” He adds. “Haven’t you heard me in the shower?” You ask. “No.” He shakes his head. “Should I of told you?” You joke. “But I know everything about you! Everything. How did I not know this?” He exclaims, and you laugh, shaking your head. Kneeling up and swinging one leg over Luke’s lap, so you’re straddling his lap. “Babe, it’s not that big of a deal, I’m sure there’s many things I don’t know about you.” You chuckle, resting your arms on his shoulder and playing with his hair, and his hands go to your hips. “B-” you silence him with a kiss, your lips moving together in sync, and he gets lost in the kiss, you following shortly after.
Michael
“That was such a dick move to leave him.” You laugh. “He was so boring, his name was Matt and he worked in IT, didn’t have a dog, which was a warning sign already, and he took me to a restaurant that served bland food, he was the definition of beige.” Your friend continues. “You couldn’t of waited until the date was finished?” You question, plucking open strings on her guitar. “I would of fallen asleep.” She replies, scrolling through her phone. “You could’ve gotten some coffee or something.” You laugh. “I didn’t know what to do, so I left him at the restaurant, don’t judge me.” She responds. “Whatever.” You shake your head with an amused smile, your fingers travelling the fretboard randomly. “When does Michael come?” She questions, sinking further into the couch. “I don’t know, any minute now.” You shrug, putting the pick in your mouth as you move your hair out the way. “Is he bringing anyone with him?” She asks looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa because you’re smart. “He might bring the boy’s back, or just one of them, he didn’t say.” You tell her as she picks up a guitar herself and plugs herself in. “Are we really doing this?” You ask as she plays Stairway To Heaven by Led Zepplin. “Yeah, we are, it’s a fucking amazing song, with a sick guitar solo.” She says over the music you shrug and join in, ready for your fingers to do some serious shit. “Holy shit.” You laugh and voices behind you repeat your words, looking behind you, you see Michael, Calum, Luke, and Ashton. “I think I just fell in love again.” Michael says as he walks in. “I did hear correctly, you did master the guitar solo of Stairway To Heaven?” Luke asks. “Uh yeah.” You nod. “Since when could you play guitar anyway?” Michael questions. “You’ve seen me play it before.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Only acoustic, and I thought you could only do limited amounts.” He replies. “Oh yeah, I guess I never really played electric in front of you.” You realize. “Do you own one?” He asks. “This was mine, but I gave it to (Y/F/N) because I didn’t really like it anymore, I don’t have one right now.” You shrug. “Why don’t you use mine?” He raises an eyebrow. “ I don’t know, your’s just doesn’t sit right with me, I don’t like it, I used to have a perfect one but my friends and I got drunk and ruined it.” You laugh at the memory. “You did amazing too.” Ashton tells (Y/F/N). “Thanks.” She smiles. “Back off, Irwin.” You warn and he put his hands up in surrender. “That was kinda hot to be honest.” Calum comments. “Back off, Hood.” Michael says. “I’ll agree, it was really hot.” Michael laughs with a smirk.
Calum
“Okay babe, I’ve gotta go, see you later.” Calum says to you as he walks into the bedroom. “Alright, you coming home in the evening or are you gonna pop back home at lunch?” You ask, looking up from folding the laundry. “Uh, you’re working today right?” He questions. “Yeah, at home” You nod. “I might come back, I’ll text you later.” He states, walking over to you, where you’re kneeling on top of the bed. “Have a good day.” You wish. “It’d be better with you there.” He tells you, looking at your form, his t shirt on you, a little part of your black halter neck bra exposed, your tensed thighs, and your hair all curly from the shower you took last night. “Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow. “Mhm.” He nods, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth, as he places his hands on your hips. “We haven’t got enough time, Cal.” You inform him, catching his drift. “All I need is like 15 or 20 minutes.” He says, his hands travelling down your exposed thighs. “No, you need to get to the studio, and I have an important Skype call soon.” You decline. “Can’t they both wait?” He murmurs as his lips ghost over your collarbones. “No.” You shake your head, biting your lip when his hand travels over your chest and he sucks on your skin. “‘Cause you and I both know that that’s not enough time, and I can’t miss this call.” You sigh, placing your hands on his sides. “Fine.” He huffs, pulling away from you. “I guess we’ll have to wait until tonight.” He rolls his eyes. “You know I want to, there’s just not enough time, babe.” You sympathize, placing your forearms on his shoulders. “Will you make it up to me?” He raises his eyebrow with a small smirk. “Sure.” You nod with a chuckle. “As I’ve gotta go, because I’m gonna be late apparently, I’ll say goodbye.” Cal sighs and his hand lightly touches over your heat, making you lower your hips to meet his fingers. “Maybe we can both be just a little late.” You shrug, connecting you lips to his. “Alright, bye then, thanks.” You smile politely at a fellow CEO. “Bye, Mrs Hood.” He smiles back and you end the call. “Thank fuck that’s over.” You mutter to yourself, and pull your hair out of the pony tail, shaking your head to sort your hair out. This house is awfully quiet, so you decide to put a random playlist on shuffle, the sound of Waterparks coming on. It’s been ages since Calum left and you still haven’t gotten dressed, you sorted your hair out and put on a little make up, but you’re still in his shirt. Deciding you should make some lunch, you head towards the kitchen. Suddenly Only You by Sarah Close comes on and you can’t help but smile to yourself and begin to sing the words, the high notes effortlessly coming up. “I need a little more too.” A voice behind you says, making you turn around instantly, being met with Calum. “Oh, hey.” You smile. “We’ve been together 7 years, how did I not know you can sing?” He question. “I can’t.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Uh, yeah you can, what you just did was amazing and you did it so effortlessly.” He states, coming up to you. “You think? I wasn’t really paying attention.” You raise an eyebrow, making him laugh. “You’re perfect.” He smiles, pulling you into a hug. “Thank you?” You laugh. “I love you so much.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “Love you too, Cal.” You reply.
Ashton
“Come on Wyatt, let’s go see daddy.” You say to your little boy, taking him out of his car seat, and into your arms. “Daddy?” He questions. “Yeah.” You nod, locking the car and making your way into the studio. “Hey guys.” Michael greets, walking towards you. “Hey.” You smile. “Micky.” Wyatt giggles. “Hi lil’ guy.” Michael laughs, squeezing his hand. “Where’s Ash?” You ask. “In there.” He points towards a door where you can hear talking and laughing. “Thanks.” You nod and make your way towards them, opening the door with your free hand. “Baby!” Ashton grins, walking up to you, giving your lips a peck and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Daddy, I made a drawing for you.” Wyatt tells Ashton, passing him the piece of paper. “You did? Aw, thanks little man.” Ash enthusiastically says taking the paper from him. “There’s mummy, then you, me, uncle Lu, uncle Mickey, and then uncle Cal.” He explains. “Looks great.” Ashton tells him. “Why don’t you go show, Luke and Cal?” He suggest, taking him from your arms and walking over to Luke. “Wyatt drew a picture of us and he wants to show you.” He informs and passes him over to Luke, and Luke sets him on his lap, beginning to talk to Wyatt. “So how’s my special lady?” Ashton asks as he walks back to you, setting his hands on your waist. “Fine, you?” You ask back. “Great now that you’re here.” He smiles, kissing your forehead. “You’re old but you’re still cute as fuck.” Michael comments as he walks in. “Get bent, Clifford.” You glare. “Hormones.” Michael mumbles. “I haven’t got any of those going on right now.” You sigh. “Always a pleasure to be around you.” He jokes making you flip him off. “Love you too.” He sweetly says and walks off, making you laugh. “Mummy!” Wyatt cries, making you look over to where he is and see tears rolling down his cheeks. “What’s up, baby?” You ask, lifting him up. “I h-hurt myself.” He sobs. “Where?” You ask and he lifts up his finger, a small paper cut on there. “Hey Ash, could you go get a plaster from my car?” You ask. “Sure.” He nods leaving the room. “It’s okay.” You try to calm him down by wiping his tears and rocking him, but he just clutches onto your chest and cries. “Ow, my ears.” Calum chuckles. You decide to take another approach and head towards the piano that’s in the room, sitting down the bench, putting Wyatt on your lap. Opening up the lid you begin to play some simple chords. This always calms him down, when he was a new born and he’d cry in the middle of the night, you take him down stairs and put him in a bassinet and he’d slowly fall asleep again. It’d always work without a doubt. Soon enough Wyatt calms down and just watches your fingers move around the black and white keys. “You okay now?” You ask him and he nods, beginning to get sleepy. “Since when could you play piano?” The voice of Ashton asks. “Oh you’re back, thanks, uh, I’ve been playing for years, how’d you not know, I play it for him when he won’t stop crying.” You explain whilst you put the plaster on his finger. “I thought that was just your phone.” He furrows his eyebrows. “Then I’d have to of had great speakers for it to sound like that.” You reply, passing Wyatt to Ashton. “Why couldn’t you of taught me?” Luke questions. “So none of you knew I could play?” You question and they shake their heads. “How?” You laugh. “Let’s play some songs!” Michael suggests and that takes up your plans for the rest of the evening, Wyatt falling asleep on the couch soon enough.
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castielgavemewings · 7 years
Text
My First attempt at this
Chapter One: Dean snatched his backpack off the table, grabbing only an apple before getting the hell out of dodge. John was home. After nearly a month of not knowing where darling deadbeat dad was, he returned. Drunk as shit, but alive. “Sam! Would you hurry up already?” A responding thud of shoes on stairs gave enough of an answer. It was unnerving how tall Sam had gotten. No eighth grader deserved to be this tall, not when Dean didn’t tower over his little brother like he used to. Dean had already started up the car and was about to leave Sam’s ass when the rascal flung open the door and sat heavily into the seat. Had Dean not been so focused on getting away, he would have torn Sam a new one for the way he treated his beloved car. The notes of ‘Ramble On’ worked wonders on Dean’s nerves as he drove the familiar road to Westchester High School. Dean looked over to see Sam scrolling through the High School’s website. “Whatcha doin’ there, Sammy?” Sam looked up, startled by the sound of his voice. “You know the private school? The one that’s across the street from the old elementary?” Dean nodded once before chiming in, “Yeah, Saint Hester’s? What about it?” Sam looked down at his phone again. “They’re doing some sort of an exchange between their journalism students and our football team.” Dean stopped the exasperated sigh before it reached his lips. “Why would those douchewad rich-kids want anything to do with us?” Sam resumed reading once more before responding. “‘To get an inside look on the life of a high school athlete,’” he quoted, “Apparently they want to make it a tradition, the Journalism students would shadow the athletes in class and out, writing an expose of sorts. And get this—it’s worth all of their grade for the semester.” Dean was suddenly very glad that he had dropped football after junior year. A concussion had put him out of the game, and he wanted more free time senior year. After all, being MVP as a junior was not a bad way to go. He dropped off Sam in the middle school parking lot before completing the journey to Westchester. The bell had already rung and Dean muttered quick curses under his breath. Had the giraffe child not taken so long, he could have avoided the tongue lashing he was about to get from his language arts teacher, not to mention the detention. Dean monitored the classroom through the window, waiting for Ms. Harvelle to turn her back. He always thought it was a bit unfair that her own daughter got to be in the class. But hey, Jo sure was easy on the eyes. Ms. Harvelle turned to grab a stack of papers, and Dean slid through the door and into a desk near the back. He prayed she hadn’t taken role yet. She faced the class once again, eyes falling onto him. “Mr. Winchester, how nice of you to join us. Now would you care to share why you’re late…again?” Dean’s lips thinned as he avoided her inquisitive stare. “I had to drop off my brother, I didn’t meant to be late.” He thought that was an adequate explanation, and so, it seemed, did she. Ms. Harvelle just dropped the light blue slip on his desk and continued teaching—leaving out any harsh words. Dean stuffed the note into his jacket pocket before getting up and moving to his usual seat. Dean’s on again off again girlfriend was right next to him, and he thought maybe this meant they were on again. Lisa Braeden looked over to him, throwing a casual smile his way. On again. He quirked his eyebrows for confirmation, and she nodded. The day was looking up, and Dean managed to pay attention for the first half of class before starting to doodle on the pages of the notebook. Lisa tugged at the sleeve of his jacket and was pointing toward Ms. Harvelle who was getting ready to address the class. Dean sat up straighter, if Lisa wanted him to pay attention, maybe it was important. Though she did have the nasty habit of wanting Dean to do better in his classes. That was an argument they had frequently. “Alright class, have any of you heard about the new exchange that we are doing?” Only a handful of kids nodded. Ms. Harvelle made a humming sound before continuing, “The new director at Saint Hester’s has decided it’s about time our students started mingling,” multiple pairs of eyes rolled. No one wanted anything to do with the jesus-freak Rockefellers. “And to get that moving, we have arranged a sort of…exchange program. The journalism class will be shadowing athletes of Westchester High for two weeks. I am telling you this because I expect you all to behave and treat the students with as much respect as you would any of the students here at Westchester. We will have one of these students joining us in this class,” Dean pitied whoever was going to have to put up with that for two whole weeks, “I’m sure you all know the athlete I’m referring to,” Dean did not. “the only football player to ever be awarded MVP as a junior, Dean Winchester.” A few of the students swiveled in their seats to look at him. Oh, hell no. Dean’s mouth wrinkled in discontent. He thought about protesting it, but instead sighed and wrapped an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. He would talk to the office later today, tell them that he wouldn’t do it. He spent the rest of the class doodling and humming Led Zepplin, much to Bela’s dismay. When the bell dismissed them, he took a moment to talk to Lisa. “Hey, Lis, what’s happening here?” He gestured at his arm, now around her waist. “I decided I do still like you, and I want to be with you.” Dean considered the statements. “Thanks, Lisa, means a lot, but how many times are you going to change your mind?” He hadn’t meant the question to come off as offensive, but Lisa pulled away and hugged her binder with both hands. “Fine, Dean. I see how it is.” She shot him a glare before marching down the hall. Dean leaned his head back against the lockers. Off again. One of the perks of being a senior was his free period. He had an entire hour to do nothing. He could sleep, or go out to eat, or go home for all the school cared. But seeing as he had a little problem to take care of, he went to the office. The name tag of the lady behind the desk read Pamela. “Hiya, Pam,” She looked up at him without moving an inch. When neither of them said anything, she sighed and rolled her chair back. “Can I help you?” Dean adjusted his backpack. “Yeah, I’m here to see principle Crowley…about the exchange program?” Pamela nodded and got out a pen and sticky note. She scribbled something on it before handing it back to Dean. “He’ll be in there, I’d hurry.” He gave a quick word of thanks to Pamela before heading to room 121-B. He only wondered why Crowley was in 121-B for a second before dismissing the thought. He knocked twice before letting himself in. Crowley was looking around the room, holding up various colors of paint. “Hello, do you need something, my boy?” He spoke with a lilting Scottish accent. “Actually, I was wondering if you could assign my exchange student from Saint Hester’s to someone else?” Crowley looked over to him sharply and put the paint swatches down. “And why would you want to do that?” Dean sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. “I really don’t need a bible-thumping snob to follow me around for two weeks.” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up at his reasoning. “And who would take your place?” Dean hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know, Benny maybe?” Crowley shook his head. “I apologize, Dean, but it’s far too late for us to go back on our word. You’re something of a star player around here, Saint Hester’s was very interested.” “So what exactly is going to happen.” Dean was stalling while his brain raced for a better reason for Crowley to give whoever had been assigned to him someone else to stalk. “The students will arrive here in three days, and you’ll be pulled from class. You will be formally introduced and the instructor from Saint Hester’s will talk you through everything that is going to take place. They will shadow you at school, and I believe they also have a list of activities that are required of them to watch you do.” Dean shuddered, so they were basically stalking them. “Why can’t I just give them an interview and move on. An hour tops of my life?” “Because, Winchester, this project is worth all of their grade for the semester. If you screw this up for them, you’ll have more than one person on you about it. They’re expected to write at least thirty pages about what they observed.” Dean’s jaw nearly dropped. They were writing a freakin’ book about him. “And you can’t assign them to someone else because?” Dean didn’t finish the sentence, leaving a space for Crowley to fill. “Because these arrangements were made nearly a month ago when you applied. And on that same piece of paper it says that you can’t back out of it if you are selected. You’re in a contract.” Dean’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t applied for this. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “I never—” “If memory serves, you may have blindly completed the form in light of the twenty extra credit points you got from Ms. Hanscum for doing so.” Dean’s eyes widened. He did remember that. He was in danger of failing, but the extra credit he got for applying had pushed his grade up to passing. There was no way out, he had blocked all exits with his own rashness. “Is there any way I can get out of this?” Crowley smirked. “Not that I know of. Now, I really should be going. The new teacher’s lounge isn't going to select its own paint color, now is it?” Dean turned to leave, mind already overflowing with curses and apprehension for what was about to happen in only three short days. “And Dean?” “Yeah, Crowley?” “Go see Pam and ask for the file on the student who will be shadowing you. I would sleep better at night knowing that you knew at least a little about your new friend.” Dean rolled his eyes. They weren’t going to be friends. Dean didn’t care if the poor sucker failed every class for the rest of his life. He wasn’t going to let anyone follow him around for two weeks. However, he followed Crowley’s instructions and asked a still grouchy Pam for the file. She practically threw it at him, and laughed when he stumbled backwards, trying to keep his balance. Name: Novak, Castiel Grade: 12 School: Saint Hester’s Academy of Art and Science Height: 6’0” Hair Color: BROWN Eye Color: BLUE DOB: August 20, 2000 First of all, what kind of name was Castiel? Dean was grateful that he was barely taller than the guy. Below the basic information were a couple pages on what Castiel had written for himself, a glossy corner peeked out from the last one, and he guessed it was a photo. He pulled it out and scanned it, the blue eyes were stark against the almost black hair. He had a more academic centered appearance, the scrawny arms and knit sweater made it evidently clear that he was not like Dean. Dean sighed and brought the folder to his car where he threw it on the passenger seat. In a few days, Dean would have to endure the observation of someone with a stupid name and an unsettling gaze, but seriously how were his eyes so blue? Dean debated going to a local fast food joint for lunch but decided against it. Instead, he opened up the folder once more, flipping the page with all of the basic information. “Alright, Castiel, let’s see who you are" Tbc...
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destielfanfic · 7 years
Text
Group Ask #156
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spnstoryfinders
we may not have fics to personally rec, but those looking for fics that have key terms might find relevant fics on ao3, livejournal, ff.net, etc (guide to finding fic)
Ask #1 (@raisecas): there’s this fic...#1
I'm looking for a fic where Cas travels back in time to before season 2 to try to stop everything from happening. He masquerades as a hunter and hunts with Sam and Dean for awhile, and after Sam is killed in Azazel's games, Cas sells his soul instead of Dean. I looked through the pre-season 4, time travel, and hunter!Cas tags but couldn't find it.
Check out our time travel tag, too!
Found by @whatkindofnameisvolta, @wincehsterwithwings and @consultingcas: Every Man’s Got A Right
Ask #2 ( @sassyclassybutmostlysmartassy​ ): there’s this fic...#2
Please help me find this fic. It's a/b/o. Dean is 'dating' Anna, who is Cas's older sister and is always rude to him because he is an omega, but the other angels (also his siblings) treat him like he's precious. He meets Dean and Dean loves the way he smells and wants to be with him even though he's younger than him. It's set in high school. Dean helps out in one of Cas's classes and spends all his time being really distracted by Cas. I would appreciate you helping me find his. I'm desperate.
Check out our abo tag
Ask #3 (@deanandcassareaprofoundbond ): there’s this fic...#3
Hi! Im trying to find a fic that I read a while ago. Dean and Cas have a whiteboard in the kitchen to track who topped(or bottomed) last. Sam gets annoyed and accidentally reveals him and Gabriel used to be a thing and said they'd do sexual favors to see who tops or bottoms. Thats all I can remember! Sorry to bother you, thanks so much!
Found by mnwood, saywhatjessie,  lunaloca1152, winchesterwithwings, jalokath and knittedgauntlets:  Bottoms Up  sorry guys, we had technical problems and see how many of you recognized the fic! our followers get the job done!!!
Ask #4 (@steroline-bethyl): hippy cas
Do you know of any fics where hippie!cas hunts with Dean and Sam in current time, not in the future/end!verse? And where Dean and Cas enter or are in a relationship?
Check out our 2014!cas (non endverse) tag. We use this tag for hippie cas that isn’t part of endverse. 
Ask #5 (@mrsackles16): optimistic, no filter Cas
Hi I'm looking for fanfics where Castiel is like optimistic-and doesn't have a filter and Dean has to put up with it?
Ask #6 (@herstepsister): there’s this fic...#6
Hello! There's this destiel fic. I dont remember what it is about but dean has a child and metatron is a good guy (and he was enoch) and azrael is death. Do you know that fic? Thanks
Found by @lunaloca1152 and @winchesterwithwings: Home in Motion
Ask #7 ( @thrivingonariff): there’s this fic...#7
i have been looking for this fic for AGES; basically its a fic where dean/cas/sam grow up together and it is at least partially from sam's POV i think because i believe he discovers cas/dean fooling around on the couch and it upset about it. the fic ends with them on a beach listening to led zepplin (or some oldies) like they did when they were kids i think. help would be appreciated!! yall do a great job!
Found by @rosearade: The Joy is in the Process (unofficially recced here)
We normally don’t answer lost fic on anonymous. Check out Anons we DELETE here... or here...or here! If you don’t see your anon lost fic, its because it was deleted!
If any of our followers have anything to suggest, drop it in our ask box (mention which ask you are talking about by number or bolded title). If you don’t see your ask here, it is because we have quite a few in the inbox. Thanks!!
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themusechronicles · 5 years
Text
The Lab || A Headcanon
This is long and I made myself cry, but enjoy it anyway. 
After the fake video posts and gets broadcast, Pepper steps up - recognizing Beck and berating Daily Bugle for not doing a background check on the source of the video, which is linked back to a group of disgruntled former SI employees (all.of which are taken to court for their part in slander and fraud, among other crimes). The real video is discovered in Edith's hard drive and released by Pepper. The whole of New York turns on Daily Bugle for the attack on a young kid, and somehow Peter gets seen with MJ and Morgan (who adores Peter from her dad's stories) and public apologies spam the internet for months.
Pepper reveals to Peter that the HQ, now rebuilt, will have a lab specifically designed for him with Tony's bots and cars. MJ is astounded, but Peter doesn't have the heart to go to the lab for a long time. He's too terrified of what he'll find in the remodeled HQ, too grief stricken that he won't see Tony there listening to music and creating. To worried that taking that step means he can't go back, though his life is already turned on its head. But the first time he does, he brings MJ and Pepper (who naturally brings precious Morgan), Edith connects with Friday, and the lab comes to light with Friday giving a heartfelt.
"Welcome home, boss."
"I...I'm not your boss." Peter quickly corrects, tears in his eyes because Tony may have chosen him, but the real boss to all the gadgets and bots in the room around him was Tony. "Please, please don't call me that." His voice cracks and the women with him gather in and hug him; MJ and Pepper from either side and Morgan with her face in Peter's stomach.
"Very well. What should I call you then?" The AI isn't aware, but it's a question Peter isn't expecting or ready for. His silence draws Friday to run a protocol over his vitals. "Sir?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here...uhm-"
"Friday, sir."
"Friday." For some reason that makes him smile and he nods a little to himself. "How about you just call me Peter? That's what Karen and Edith call me."
"Very well, Peter." The AI responds and lights up the area around the desk, and Peter can't help the tightness in his chest as he walks forward with Morgan refusing to let him go. He finds he way to the chair and the now seven year old climbs into his lap and clings to him like a baby sister. "Welcome to the lab. Boss left everything you would need to get started on making the team better."
"What?" MJ asks, curls swaying as she looks around; still processing her boyfriend is Spiderman has been an adjustment. The addition of his own private lab almost makes her brain implode. "All of this is Peter's?"
"Aye, Miss MJ." Friday answers. "Peter, there's a message left for you. If you'd like to see it."
Peter is petting through Morgan's hair and his chest is tight, but somethings tells him this is important. He tilts his head to kiss Morgan's head and speaks up. "Yes, please."
It's a sight he isn't prepared for even after two years. Tony sitting in a chair - the very chair he's in now. His hair is a mess, he's wearing a Led Zepplin shirt and he's smiling.
"Hey kid," the recording begins, and Peter gets the distinct impression of the video the remaining avengers watched after the funeral. "If you're watching this, it means that either A; I've entirely stepped down from superhero business and given the title to you, or B; I'm dead. Chances are that it's the latter, but if we survive this and I get you back, it's all yours anyway. It also means you've already seen the other video, so I don't have to try and make this a general, cover all the bases briefly kind of thing. If you're watching this, it means Avengers HQ is a hundred percent finished and as per my request through Pepper, the lab has been made and my bots are there with you."
"Daddy," Morgan whispers, one hand reaching out to the hologram, her voice soft as Peter kisses her head to hide the tears in his eyes.
"Chances are Edith and Friday have synced up, and Friday has all the schematics on standby for the team." The video goes quiet as Tony runs a hand through his hair. "Peter, I know I left...a lot on your shoulders. Probably more than I should have. There was a lot I wanted to explain and do with you. But you have Pepper and Happy and May and I know Morgan is gonna love you.” His smile is sad, likely already coming to terms with the possibility of a death he somehow foresaw. 
“Peter?” Morgan asks, the seven year old startled by the sudden shaking in her ‘big brother’s body’. “Peter, what’s wrong?”
“I..I’m fine, Morgan.” Peter assures, though his face is hidden in her hair as he kisses her head. 
“I don’t know who all is gonna make it out of this fight, but I do know I’m leaving the keys to the castle with a great person. Someone I would die for to get back. And if I do die, Pete, don’t blame yourself. Just do you and know that I am gonna be watching over you.” The hologram reaches forward, putting a hand on the desk, Morgan and Peter both reaching to lay their hands atop each other’s where Tony’s hand was filmed. “I love you, kid, like your my son. I love you, Morgan, and Pepp. Don’t forget that, okay? I’m always right here.” The video fades and the room is quiet, the two kids are crying as the last piece to fade is the hand laying with their own. MJ carefully brings a stool close, reachign to put her hand on theirs. 
“Hey, I know I’m usually the gloom and doom girl, but look. Mr. Stark was...he was a really great guy, y’know. And he trusted you with all this, don’t be sad, okay? You made him proud.” she says, but her voice is just that slightly hitched, and Peter doesn’t need to look at her to know his girlfriend is crying, too. Pepper is there next, one arm draped across Peter’s shoulders and the free hand covering MJ’s. 
“We’ll always make him proud if we just remember him, okay?” she whispers, kissing Peter’s head. “Always.”
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