#horherr

Wendy's facial expression shifts on a dime. "Oh, don't say that." She scolds, having half a mind to swat his shoulder playfully. But after Jack died, she'd made a promise that no one would ever put their hands on him again, including her. Her brows knit together in that gentle concern she'd always shown for her boy after everything they endured. "I think your brain is just fine where it is, Doc. Even if it needs a little fine-tuning." She smiles and is just about to muss his hair before remembering he's a teenager now, and they didn't like that sort of thing. At least she'd hated it when her father insisted on doing it to her as a child.

Dan looks up at his mom and bites back a sigh. He hates getting sighed at, and tries not to be just a shithead at someone who can't really understand what's going on in his brain. Fine-tuning won't begin to cover what needs fixing. Instead, he puts her hand in his hair to muss with.

No one will touch him again even me I won't swat even in play should I touch his hair? I hated it when I was his age

And over and over and over.

[x]

[text] ah.. that's real. hope she feels better soon. always a little sad that she's been so tense.

[text] i've been alright. mostly working on some projects, looking over some art books for references and diving through that.

[text] you know how i get about it - i lock in and i focus for a while to get what i need to - done.

He's been selling weed to the neighbourhood kids, isn't all that strange for someone to come around in the dead of night. He's under the glow of the porch-light, his daughters music is shaking the house. Camping chair, hard liquor, a blanket over his knees and a gun on his lap, he's open for business.

​Dean was out on his own, a Winchester, trying to make some peace. The old wars were over for him, but he was still trying to figure that out for himself, so he ate from a bag of beef jerky as he peered over the hood of her car. The man had many options, yet he was constrained by his nerves. It would be terrible for his psyche,, and all he hadn't wanted to go anywhere calls out of preference. 

He didn't want to get cold, he also didn't want to go about those deserts that states are said to be beautiful and sweat his balls off. So he was looking for that sweetspot and maybe even needed to consider a trek down south. The dollar would last longer down there, and he might be able to get more cash, or at least credit cards, if he went about it that way. Although maybe he was just wanting to find something and someone to fight.

All that consideration was interrupted when he noticed the blonde coming up to him, clearly quite pleased at the sight of the woman. He'd turned the man smiled that charming smile as he nodded, "Wouldn't be much of a man. It didn't help." "No charge. You steer, and I'll push.”

Seven Deadly Sinday

She is juggling a million beers in her hands and Stu is off somewhere playing host or just being a complete idiot and now she is face to face with one of her mortal enemies. The pretty blonde that Stu claims he broke up with for her -- Casey. "I could say the same for you. Wanna give me a hand or do you think I am some kind of juggling acrobat?"

“Uhh…” Gwen begins, cradling the phone between her shoulder and head. Her eyes dart to the dining table, where Fry -- the very grouchy calico she'd picked up two days ago. She was currently making a scratching post out of her tablecloth. “She’s…good? I think. If good can be called scratching the shit out of me every time I go near her.” Gwen shifts closer towards the table, and almost immediately, the hair on the feline’s back raises, face scrunching into a scowl. She really doesn’t want to bandage up another massive scratch left on her arm from trying to push too far, too fast. “The shelter said it takes two weeks for them to warm up to you, well, it’s been three. I don’t really get what I’m doing wrong.”

Finn doesn't bother to hide the laughter at his sister's cat woes, but does offer a sympathetic raspberry to be nice. She's the crazy one grabbing felines off the street, she gets to deal with what happens next. He takes her off speaker long enough to use his blender, then puts her back on to keep his hands free.

Lady Almathea could never fathom eating another animal's flesh, even though she was now turned into a human form by Schmendrick to keep her safe from The Red Bull.