#All I can really find is that one pic of a girl stabbing a guy while kissing another guy and yeah that's good and I'll draw it eventually

[canadianlucifer]

I have this neat little thing where whenever I think about seiakimon I turn into this

[loressa]

Burgertime

----

Salt, fat, sizzle, sear - the components are basic and mandatory. The burger is the star and never let anyone tell you otherwise...even if that someone is a stupid bullshit Goodwill microwave because *someone* (Brenda in HR) is too fucking cheapass to upgrade.

I dont have time for this - Timmons needs a submit by noon for a merge by five because Perkins is absolutely horrible at his job - but fuck Perkins. I want a burger, specifically MY deliciously seared burger from last night, so it's time to settle in and wait. Triple beep on that idiot machine (fuck you, Brenda) and the microwave power's at 50% for that slow, deep reheat.

Some TV while we wait - Pedro seems to be really doing it dirty to Janessa Maria. Would NOT be surprised if he ends up stabbed with all those side chicas he's had going for weeks.

Annoyingly, the lunchroom TV cuts from daytime telenovelas to grainy cellphone zooms of movie monsters spilling out of weird machines. I check on my burger - ten minutes left and still rotating nicely, despite all expectations - and then focus back on the news again.

Invasion. Aliens. Doom. This channel sucks. Flip through a few, but it's all the same broadcast - burger doing great - and that's when I realized what's happening.

This bullshit castoff Oliver of a microwave is all please-maam-may-I-have-moreing my burger into a dry, shitty crumble. Fuck you, Brenda. Power down even lower, might help, has to help. I still hate Brenda.

Back to ten minutes and what is this bullshit on the TV. Timmons' task floats into my head and I kick myself - I didn't drop those completed components into code review. By the time I get back from that, we're at eight minutes, the burger is lightly sizzling and I've realized the entire office is empty.

Fucking corporate yoga. I can even hear them upstairs - graceful, my ass, they sound like elephants tap dancing. Seven minutes to heaven, though, so who gives a shit. I think I'll add some BBQ sauce, just to be heathenous.

I hear a crash from the area near Perkins' desk, but who cares. The guy is a mess. Six minutes. Looking juicy. Another crash. Did they have a lunch out? Perkins *likes* to drink, why do you think he's useless after lunchtime?

Flip channels for a bit, but it's all the same stupid YouTube alien movie promo crap - five minutes, die in a fire, Brenda - so I browse Reddit looking at food pics. Another crash and now it's starting to seem a bit weird. I glance at the microwave, mouth almost aching - four minutes - and sigh. Gotta help Perkins.

Aaaand, nope, that's an alien. That's totally, completely, absolutely, how the fuck is that an alien. He's... she's? It's tall, scaly, oozy, slimy, totally not human, pure nightmare factory, and appears to be baffled by a stapler. Why does Perkins even have a stapler?

You how know under pressure our brains turn into trapped rats trying to find the easiest way out and we think and do amazing shit? So yeah, three minutes left and burger is looking good.

I thank my Brenda-esque brain for absolutely nothing and dart back into the lunchroom, which has apparently become my safe house against an alien invasion. Yay, I always wanted to fight for my life surrounded by old egg salad and leftover pasta.

Right about now is when I realize my problem. See, the microwave has been going with an ambient hum since Sumeria was the shit, so any changes are going to be instantly noticed...and we're at two minutes left. Also the burger is looking amazi-

Right, yeah, pull it together girl. Fuck you, Brenda. With a REAL microwave, I would have been out of here alr-

Well, hold on now. I creep back to the door. The alien's apparently given up on staplers and is kinda scanning the room. Like, literally, scanning. There's old 90s style movie graphics sprouting out of his/her/its eyes.

One minute left - hi burger, you're beautiful - and I'm fumbling with my phone. This whole situation is stupid enough, might as well try....

And there we are. WiFi scanner is picking up something absolutely weird and confusing, clearly some sort of network we can't identify. The alien's got some tech - or biology? - emitting a signal.

I groan. I know the answer. I hate the answer. I sigh. I curse fucking Brenda. 10 seconds left. I back away and close my eyes. Everyone sacrifices in trying times.

3, 2, 1 - the rotation stops and the stupid little defunct microwave gives a happy chirp of a ding. Done! Aren't you proud of me? Never, Brenda-spawn.

A claw appears around the door. Oh fuuuuck, yep, this is happening. I duck down behind a table and reach up to fumble at the microwave door. Hopefully aliens aren't vegan. I manage to jab it open and suddenly the delicious, intoxicating smell of the perfect burger floods the lunchroom, rich and redolent.

Apparently demons like burgers, but I was counting on this. Everyone likes burgers unless they are useless bitches named Brenda. S/he/it leaps for the microwave and I slide sideways - this is a horrible idea - putting myself closer to her as my arms fumble at the countertop. Oh, god, it stinks like childhood trauma and ozone. Too late now and here we go - the creature realizes I'm here far too late, flailing and turning with way too many arms writhing about. His head is at the same level of the counter top, body coiled to strike.

My lunging fall nearly fails, apparently my aim is terrible, but I trip on a chair and surge upwards again, hands finally wrapping around the microwave.

"You like to transmit shit about Earth?????!" I want to scream but instead I just kinda squeak as I grab the horrible microwave with its beautiful payload and slide the entire thing over the creature's head.

"Farrady cage?" I whisper hopefully, quickly backing away, because that - and my burger - was really all I had. For a second, the alien is still, simply standing there with his/her/its head crammed in a microwave, before its head gives a sudden, anticlimactic plop and sinks to the ground, ooze puddling out on his/her/its shoulders.

As the creature falls, his/her/it's body gives a shake, some final death throe, and, with a rattle, a little brown disc comes soaring out of the microwave. It's a beautiful, heartwarming moment. The alien's dead, Berlin is playing take my breath away and I've been reunited with my hamburger.

The rest of earth can wait a few more minutes for me to save it. This shit is finally hot and ready and it's lunchtime for momma.

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[bts-hyperfixation]

Why Not Then? 18+

Here it is in all it s 4327 words.... This one kind of got away from me.

angst/fluff/smut 

I hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex

pic found here

Tonight’s the night. At least that’s what you were telling yourself. Senior prom. It’s now or never. Tonight is the night you are going to tell Jungkook how you really feel about him. He has to feel the same way, you are inseparable. There is no doubt in your mind that the only obstacle in the way is fear, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had worked so hard to build. The doorbell sounds through your house and you take a deep breath. For the hundredth time that day you look in the mirror. Curls frame your face, makeup done to perfection, and the seafoam A-line dress you had chosen made you feel like a queen. Your mother calls you downstairs, you can hear your father making polite conversation with your date as they wait for you. Another reason you are so sure Jungkook feels the same, he is your date. He could’ve had any other girl in school, but he asked you.

The moment you descend from the top of the stairs is like a movie. His goofy little bunny smile lights up his face when he sees you. You try as elegantly as possible to parade down the stairs, using one hand to lift the hemline of your dress, as the other glides along the bannister. You take your time. Eyeing him up as you go, the tuxedo was such a stark difference to his usual gym shorts. He was stunning. His short dark hair quaffed and gelled. Everything was going to go as planned tonight. You could just feel it.

“You look beautiful as ever” he laughs taking your hand and spinning you. You can’t help giggling.

“Not too bad yourself.” You pull on the lapels of his jacket. He bats you away a straightens himself back up just as the flash goes off on your mother’s camera. She arranges the two of you in to ten different poses before letting you leave. Jungkook had driven his beat-up convertible to pick you up. To anyone else that car would be an eyesore, but he loved it, and so did you. So many nights spent just talking and looking up at the stars, cuddled up under an old picnic blanket. To you it was a pumpkin carriage.

He opens your door for you and helps to fold your skirt so it wouldn’t rip in the limited space. He runs to the other side and jumps over the door and into his seat. Your parents wave you off as you pull away. It’s a short drive to the school. 10 minutes at most. He parks like a pro, doing that thing that guys do when they reverse into a space. The twisting just so you can see more of their neck and watch how their arms flex around the back of your headrest. You start to climb out of the seat when suddenly he is in front of you, hand extended to help you. It’s hard not to laugh at how hard he is trying to be a proper gentleman tonight.

“Come on Y/N-ah, the night of our dreams awaits.” He quotes the prom theme. The unbelievably cringy and cliched ‘night of our dreams’. Walking through the doors, it was still blatantly obvious you were in the school gym, but the prom committee at least tried their best. Tacky streamers in blues and silvers, star themed props, a solar system themed photo booth. Its clear they had to use some of the previous year’s decorations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The butterflies were building in your stomach. Anxious and excited about where your confession could take you.

All of your other friends are already here, dancing to the catchy pop music blaring over the sound system. The path to them is crowded with other sweating high-schoolers, so Jungkook decides just the two of you should go and take photos. He pulls you towards the photo booths, lining up with the other groups and couples waiting their turns. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he is still holding on to your hand. Tight.

“Don’t you want to go dance with the others?” you gesture towards those in the middle of the floor, laughing as one of the boys loses his balance mimicking a slut drop.

“No, I want to take some stupid pictures with my best friend and date for the evening.” He winks at you, a move that should come off as light -hearted and cringy. Instead it feels like he has shot you in the heart. The response you come back with shocks you.

“Just because you’re in love with me.” You accompany the remark by sticking your tongue out at him. He grabs your chin and makes you look him directly in the eyes. Your heart beats double time. It looks like he is going to kiss you. Before his face gets close enough to yours, he ruins it.

“You wish Y/N.” he laughs it off, but you see it as your chance. Now or never, tonight’s the night…

“Actually…” and then it’s your turn for pictures. You don’t get a chance to get the rest of the sentence out. Whether he heard or not you don’t know but now he is excitedly rummaging around a box of props. He pulls out a silver feather boa and oversized-blue sunglasses for you, finding a matching set for himself. It’s a strip of four photos. One smile, one where he jabs you in the ribs, one with silly faces, and one where you kiss him… only on the cheek. Not enough to throw yourself in the deep end, just enough to gauge his reaction.

His ears turn bright red and he stammers about going to find the others as you exit the booth. It has to be a good sign if you make him flustered, right? The next hour is spent ruining all the work that had gone into this evening. Hair stuck to sweaty foreheads, makeup creasing around the eyes, lipstick wiped on the backs of hands. When the live band comes onto play, you and your friends head outside for air. It’s nice feeling the wind, a slight chill in the late hour. Most of your friends can’t hack it for too long, choosing to return to the dance floor in time for the party tracks to come on. Eventually it leaves just you and him. You hear the opening chords of the cha cha slide start up inside and decide now is a good a time as ever, more than eager to avoid the choreographed dance portion of the evening.

“Can I talk to you?” you reach for his hand. He turns to look at you properly and sees the serious look on your face, his brows furrowing to match.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong, just come with me.” He lets you drag him away from the gym. You head toward the school greenhouse, no one is going to come looking for you there.

“This is weirdly private Y/N, are you sure everything is okay?” he feels your forehead as if he is worried you have suddenly fallen ill.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for the longest time and I can’t not anymore, it’s time.” He opens his mouth to speak again, the confusion evident in his eyes. You raise a finger to his lip to stop him. “I’m in love with you.” The words escape more like vomit than a statement. It feels so freeing to get the words out. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. Finally admitting how you feel is an amazing feeling. Until you take in the way he is looking at you. You might as well have grown a second head. Your about to speak again when he turns on his heel and makes a run for it.

He walks briskly away from the concealed shed and back inside of the school. You don’t know if you should laugh or cry. Of all the responses you thought you’d get; abandonment was not one of them. It takes you a moment to snap out of the shock he had left you in. you follow the trail he took back into the main hall. Spotting him even through the crowd, people parted as he passed them. He beelines straight through the gym and though the doors into the main corridors. When you make it into the hallway, he is at the other end about to disappear around a corner.

“Stop running away from me!” you yell a little too loud, other lingering students stop and stare at you on their ways back from the bathroom. Unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to care. Jungkook faulters for a moment before continuing. “Jeon Jungkook! I said stop.” You kick off your heels and run in the direction he disappeared. You nearly run full force into his chest as you turn the corner not expecting him to be there.

“Why?” his voice is small and harsh, not the usual bubbly tone he always has for you.

“Why what?” your more than a little annoyed that you had to chase him only for him to ask you a question.

“Why do you love me?” it’s not the question you thought he’d ask. Why now? How long? What’s your ring size? Those were the questions you had been prepared for. Not why do you love him. you thought that was obvious. “Seriously, why do you think your in love with me?” that stung ‘think’ he doesn’t believe you. Thinks its some silly girly crush you have.

“I love you because you’re you. You’re my best friend, you make me happy when no one else does, my heart hurts when I don’t see you for more than a day.” You reach for his hands, trying your best to convey your sincerity. He flinches in response. Pulls way back out of your reach.

“I don’t feel the same way.” Now it really does feel like someone has stabbed you. Run you straight through with a sword. Your stomach twists so hard you might throw up. This wasn’t an option. In all the ways you had imagine your prom night going, this hadn’t crossed your mind. You taste the tears at the corners of your lips before you realise your crying. “You can’t just spring something like this on someone Y/N! we were having such a great night, why did you have to do this.” He is not only rejecting you, he is blaming you for having feelings. It’s all too much.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. The lump in your throat makes it hard for you to speak at all. “I just thought…”

“You thought wrong.” His response is so fast, cutting off every chance you might’ve had to put a band aid over the situation. Maybe held it together until the night was over. Now there is no chance of that.

“I’m sorry.” You try again but he just rolls his eyes. Instead of making you sadder, this reaction makes you angry. How dare he. How dare he just dismiss you like you never meant anything to him. Like you weren’t even a friend.

“I should take you home.” He gestures towards a nearby exit. He doesn’t reach for your hand to guide you like he would’ve any other point in the night. You shake you head and walk back in the direction you came, picking up your shoes as you passed them. You walked straight out of the front gates and all the way home. That was the last conversation you’d have with Jungkook for a long time.

Graduation came and went. He tried to talk to you a few times in person, but you just walked away. Still seething at the way he reacted.  He texted you constantly, left voicemails until you blocked his number. Your other friends never found out exactly what happened. They pieced bits together from what the two of you were able to talk about but never the full picture. When he started coming to your house to apologise you decided it was time to move on and headed to college early.

You were in town for a wedding. One of your high school friends had managed to meet the love of their life while away at college and asked you to come. It was a nice excuse to visit your parents. You didn’t come home as often as you would’ve liked. The town felt a little haunted after you finished school, so you tried hard to avoid it. Especially at times like this.

You were standing in your childhood bedroom, dressed to the nines once more. This time knowing that Jungkook was not going to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. But he might be at the wedding. Getting over the boy you had never really been with was more of a challenge than you could’ve ever imagined. It took you almost the entire first year away to truly get some peace on the situation. You even started to understand his point of view. He was just an 18-year-old boy trying to enjoy one of the last nights he’d get with his friends. The you had gone and dumped a whole load of new information on him. It wasn’t fair of you, just as much as it wasn’t fair of him. Truthfully, a little part of you would always wonder what if. What if he had felt the same way, would people be coming home for your wedding instead? Or would it have fizzled out long distance?

You are pulled out of your thoughts by your phone signalling the arrival of your uber. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed you clutch and headed out, eerily reminiscent of that night.

Five years later.

The wedding is at a fancy hotel on the other side of town. You are escorted by the ushers into the main room. you quickly scan the area for him. You don’t even know if he is coming but you don’t want to be caught off guard. Coming up empty you thank the groom’s men and find a seat in the back of the bride’s section where you can survey the room.

It feels ridiculous being so on guard around the person that used to mean the world to you. Your eyes meet as soon as he walks through the door. He seems genuinely surprised to see you there. He tries a weak smile and lifts his hand to wave in your direction, but you put your head down, choosing to focus on the intricacies of the program instead. 4 hymns and a sermon. For a nonchurch wedding it sure seemed religious. You roll your eyes and settle in for a long one. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he skulks away. Sitting a few rows in front of you. You allow yourself the luxury of looking at him now that he can’t look back. His hair is a lot longer now. The suit he has chosen definitely fits a lot better than his prom tux. His shoulders are nicely outlined, strong and broad. It’s a nice visual.

The wedding seems to happen around you. Old friends come over to catch up. Vows are exchanged everyone is shuffled into a banquet hall. All the while you are watching Jungkook out of the corner of your eye. Seeing him go through the motions just as you are. Three tables away. Clearly your friend has been smart enough to think that through when creating two singles tables in her seating plan.

The night wore on. Speeches were made, drinks were spilt. More than one groom’s man ripped his trousers on the dance floor. You were getting some air in the gardens when he found you.

“You look beautiful as ever.” His voice is soft, but it still makes you jump, not expecting him to approach you at all.

“Thanks.” You move to brush passed him, eager to put some space between you. Very Much not wanting to exchange awkward pleasantries with the man that, after today, you were sure still owned your heart. He steps back into your path, and makes you meet his eyes. It hurts all over again. Every feeling you had that night rushes back, every bit of progress you’d made since then erased in a matter of seconds.

“Can we talk? Please?” he sounds almost as desperate to talk to you as you are to leave.

“Talk about what Jungkook? It’s been years, just let it lie.”

“Exactly it’s been years and I know how I feel about you now, know how I felt about you then… please just let me explain myself.” He pleads with you. You stand firm, half of you longing to hear him out, the other half wanting to run the way he had.

“Why should I let you talk now? You didn’t let me talk then.” You can hear the venom dripping in your tone but can’t bring yourself to adjust your voice.

“I was a kid back then Y/N, and I was scared I was going to lose you” he chuckles darkly “I guess I did that anyway.” He grabs for your hand, this time you get to pull away from him. None of this is fair, where was this person when you needed him five years ago? He sighs at your reaction. “Look I was terrified okay? I didn’t know how I felt about you. I just knew everything was changing and I didn’t want us to change. But I know who I am and what I want now, and that’s you.” He closes the distance you had put between you in one stride. His mouth heavy on yours trying to prove a point.

You can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Instead melting into his embrace. Letting yourself indulge in the boy that was all you ever wanted.

“Why now? Why not then?” you ask when he finally pulls away.

“Because you wouldn’t speak to me until now. I wanted to tell you the day after, but you wouldn’t talk to me. And you were right to do so. I was such an asshole to you about it. Let me make it up to you.” He peppers your face with kisses.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared too.” He holds you tight cradling you into his chest. You stand there for a while. Taking in everything about him that you’d missed. The smell of fresh cotton, the warmth he always radiated. All of it.

“I have a room upstairs if you want to go. Maybe we could watch a movie?” you pull away to look straight up at him. he must have realised what it sounded like then because his mouth formed an o and his eyes widened. “Wait no, I really did mean a movie.” He tries to backtrack.

“What if you didn’t mean a movie?” as soon as your meaning sinks in, he is sprinting away. This time with you in tow, struggling to keep up. Eventually he decides you are slowing him down. He lifts you bridal style into the nearest elevator. He refuses to put you down, even though you are forced into a standstill. As soon as the door dings, he is through them. Balancing you and opening the door isn’t even a challenge as he bursts through into the luxurious hotel room. He throws you unceremoniously on to the bed before discarding his jacket on the floor. You watch, propped up on your elbows, as he loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes before helping you with yours. He runs his hand up the back of your calf, rolling down the stockings you’d worn in an effort to avoid tights.

His hair falls into his eyes as he meets your gaze, and you can’t take the teasing anymore. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him on top of you. Your lips finding his, unwilling to let go until your lungs hurt. He has one arm by your head, supporting some of his weight while the other trails down your waist. He drags his fingertips along your thigh as he moves your hemline. With your skirt out of the way his hand moves in between you bodies finding its way to your clothed pussy.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long… can I?” he kisses down your neck as he asks, leaving you barely able to respond. You just about manage to squeak out your approval. He wastes no time, biting into the soft flesh of your thighs as he wraps his hands around your panties. They are disposed of quickly, likely ruined by the slick you can feel pooling between your legs. He licks along your slit, barely delving between your folds. The tip of his tongue flicking at your clit briefly before he goes back and starts the motion again. Each time he gets close to your clit he brushes it slightly, so you shiver with anticipation, but he waits until you are practically panting to go any further. His right hand joins his talented tongue. Two fingers slipping inside of you. The slight stretch burns so good. His mouth moves up, biting gingerly at the sensitive nub he had been teasing for so long. Your thighs clamp involuntarily around his head. He wraps his free arm around your leg, driving you apart to give him better access. His tongue comes back into play drawing little shapes on your clit as he sucks down. He curls his fingers in just the right way to have you coming undone underneath him. Biting your lips to keep yourself quiet. He swats at your thigh until your teeth let go, forcing your moans out into the open. When you stop writhing, he lets your leg go and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Sitting back on his feet he won’t stop looking at you weird. Its an expression you can’t ever remember him making before, and that worries you.

“What? Why are you looking at me? Were the noises too weird? I tried to keep them in…” he pulls you up to him by the wrists and kisses you before answering.

“I love you… please shut up. Your moans are the sexiest thing I think I have ever heard. Now I just really want to get you out of the rest of your clothes. He reaches around to unzip your dress, fumbling for a moment until you take pity and take it off yourself. His shirt is already unbuttoned by the time the fabric is over your head. You help him to push the sleeves off his arms, taking great pleasure in rubbing your hands across his toned arms. You marvel at the amount of muscle he has gained for a moment before he drags you back to him, falling onto his back so you straddle him.

You make quick work of the clothing on his lower half. Perhaps a little too keen to see what you were working with. He does not disappoint. His cock is above average in length, immediately evident as it slaps against his stomach when released from it’s confines. You shuffle back for a moment to admire the full image. His hair falls haphazardly around his head, lips swollen from the kisses. Perfectly chiselled abs leading into an arrow to what you can only describe as the motherlode. Everything about this moment was worth the wait. But you refused to wait any longer. You stroke your hand softly along his shaft, pumping a few times before moving to sit yourself on top. You sink down slowly at first, having to take extra precaution to not hurt yourself. His eyes pinch shut and his nose crinkles as a little whimper escapes his mouth. You slap his chest.

“If I’m not allowed to stay quiet, neither are you.” He nods enthusiastically and opens one eye just as you reach the base of his dick.

“Fuck.” His voice low and breathy. Sounds more like he just ran a marathon than had a girl sit on him. As you feel more comfortable, you start to wriggle your hips, not thrusting away, just enough friction to tease him like he did you. You don’t get away with it for quite as long though. His hands are on your hips and you are powerless to stop him as he makes you bounce, meeting each thrust with one of his own. Soon it’s not enough for him. Too worked up to relinquish any control. He flips you quickly, now on your knees. He barely gives you time to orientate yourself before driving into you from behind. Fast, sloppy thrusts used to reach his own end. He snakes one arm underneath you. Skilled fingers finding your clit, playing with you until you tighten around him. making it difficult for him to keep going.

Soon he spills over, cumming deep inside of you. Holding onto you with all he has. Instead of pulling out, he falls over with you in his arms. Cuddling into the back of you as he comes down. You wiggle experimentally on his softening cock, earning you a growl. You giggle at his oversensitivity and try to get free as painlessly as possible.

“Don’t go” he is whiny when he is tired, it’s so endearing. He makes a grabby hand at you as you clamber of the side of the bed

“I’m only going to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.” You kiss him on the cheek as you round the bed.

“Good because I never want to be without you, ever again.” he admits as you walk into the bathroom.

February request - open

Masterlist

[wordsoflittlewisdom]

Watching bop again

I kinda forgot Cass was at the roller derby game. Love how all the characters are connected

Why does Roman’s voice...sound like that

Boss Bitch is weirdly nostalgic now

I like that the whole roller derby team is wearing like. team jackets. and harleys got her whole fringe sleeves thing going on

YES LOVE WHEN SHE THROWS THE NECKLACE AWAY

The chemical plant blowing up as fireworks was a very Harley choice

“So I’ll start where I fucking want” four minutes ago

huntress huntress huntress huntress huntress

I read somewhere that this huntress and Montoya scene was one take and they just changed the lighting to show the change

romans middle name being beauvais is probably the clearest clue they could have given that he was from a rich family

Love that Renee finds the necklace and knows Harley and the joker broke up. I like this idea that superheroes/villains are kinda like celebrities in this world

The egg sandwich scene is great what more can I say

Love that there’re cars and people just living their lives in this city

It’s a crime that we never see Harley wear this glittery fanny pack

The music is really good in this

It’s neat how the line between her narration and her dialogue is blurred, like how she’ll say the first part of something in narration and the second part in dialogue

Huntress’s little flute theme

And Montoya knows Cass; c o n n e c t i o n s

Montoya’s been going after Roman, too

And now we’re flipping back to the bertinelli massacre and diamond

Even if the whole missing diamond plot isn’t that unique, everything’s woven together so neatly

And now Dinah and Renee are on the phone about Cass and the diamond

It’s all connected

Harleys whole “I’m here to report a terrible crime”—she could have just run in there but she wanted to be Dramatic

I do wish the vocals were a little louder here maybe?

Big fan of this fight choreography

Harley pausing on a frame where she’s making a weird face before rewinding to explain about the diamond—it’s so rare to ever get to see women like. making weird faces in movies. All the women in his this are gorgeous but they don’t always have to be; they look beat up after fights and get dirty and make weird faces and it’s great

Dinah singing? Exceptional

“Loans, liquidity, laundering” ah yes the three L’s of illegal business

I unironically listen to Black Canary’s man’s world.

I like that everyone just calls Dinah “Canary”

“I’m all on my lonesome. It’s great” Harleys even an unreliable narrator when she’s just talking

I’ve really never seen a movie that feel like it’s from the female gaze visually as much as this one—all the rings and earrings, the hair, the makeup, it feels like what women might fantasize about dressing like

Dinah yelling “you motherfucker!” While beating some creeps up is quality

What time of day is it? Dinah would probably be leaving early in the morning, but I Refuse to believe that Roman would be awake particularly early any morning

She either canary is leaving her nightclub singing gig in the late morning/early afternoon or roman is still awake from the night before and is going to go to sleep soon

Cass and Dinah in the same building. (Bernie voice): I am once again talking about the connections

I’ve riffed on this before but i refuse to believe that Roman can drive

This Dinah and Renee scene establishes character, backstories, and moves the plot along all at once

Jesus some of ewan mcgregor’s acting in this is painfully bad

I love that Cass has a big bomber jacket and longer, looser shorts

Jurnee’s abs wow

The lights from behind the hands with the eyes behind Harley, who’s surrounded by people and then Roman and Victor emerge from the back, whispering to each other? Beautiful

One of the grievances roman has against Harley is “constantly interrupting him, like I’m doing right now”

Harleys “you’re really not as complicated as you think” bit is almost satirical of this cult we’ve created of “complicated” white male movie villains who have massive fan followings (cough cough joker)

Interesting that Roman holds the knife to Harleys face but hands it off to Victor to do that actual cutting

Someone handed Roman a bowl of popcorn

Harleys pocket tampon

It’s diamonds are a girls best friend yeah babey!

The male backup dancers are wearing muzzles/masks (Roman has one too for a split second) is an interesting flip on the way women are typically the ones being silenced, as well as Harleys desire to silence the men around her and be the one telling and controlling her own narrative

“Hey! you’re that singer no one listens to!” “Hey! You’re the asshole no one likes!”

Harley with her glitter gun

Harleys reaction when the sprinklers go off is perfect—Margot makes her feel like a living cartoon

This cell block fight scene is a showstopper

I like that cass doesn’t immediately want to stay with Harley. It gives her some agency in a story where she’s mostly just following the curveballs life throws her

Harleys little stare straight into the camera when cass admits to eating the diamond

Harley at the grocery store really emphasizes that she’s a total weirdo

I think I heard somewhere that the pic of child Harley with the nuns is a pic of young Margot??? Not totally sure though

Cass not knowing who the joker is goes with the whole supers are like celebrities thing—cass probably follows a whole different group of them (like how most kids follow different celebrities than their parents)

Huntress huntress huntresssss

“Give me number 32. Mild”

This kid in helenas flashback doesn’t really look like she’s grow up to look like Mary Elizabeth Winstead

This filming in this flashback has so much style

Helena practicing in the bathroom mirror with her drawing and her multiple bottles of travel mouthwash

We’re in the scene where Roman makes the girl dance on the table and oh god it’s so uncomfortable

No no no no no not this hate this

Alright that nightmare’s done

“and that’s why you should never pay federal income taxes”

Harley offering to bring cass to Roman after hearing doc say “business is business is interesting

OH ITS HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT TIME

Dinahs car is yellow because it’s...canary yellow

Roman putting on the mask is cool and all but he’s just gonna have to take it back off to get changed

This Harley vs Renee fight is fun because they keep mirroring each other—they’re fighting each other, but they’re really on the same side

The way the women all kind of circle each other at first and don’t immediately get along

Cass popping up with the gun also gives her some agency—she’s at the end of her rope with the diamond and being betrayed by Harley

“I am nOT THE CROSSBOW KILLER”

The way Huntress sounds so uncertain when she says “...and now I’m done” Mary’s acting really popped off

Roman’s a bitch but I like his outfits

Helenas little smile when Harley says “you just killed his BFF”

I love how excited Harley is when they all agree to work together

Roman’s giving his little speech in the back of a pickup truck?

When all the guys turned around with masks on I got chills

“I love this chick she’s got rage issues.” “I DONT HAVE RAGE ISSUES”

Huntress stabbing the guy while going down the slide is peak cinema

This set lights up as the scene progresses and reveals more

I love love love that Helena is genuinely caring towards Cass and recognizing that children shouldn’t have to go through trauma like her

“When the fuck did she have time to do a shoe change?”

THE HAIR TIE YEAH

Forgot to mention this but it’s a stroke of genius for this place to be called the booby trap

Love me some canary cry

“Told ya she had a killer voice”

Harleys chase was a real group hurrah—the canary cry cleared the way and pushed her forward, Huntress towed her, Renee gave her the gun with one bullet

Cass and Roman are just sitting in the back seat. That must have been an awkward car ride

Cass pulling the gun away from Roman when he tries to shoot up at Harley when Harleys on top of the car is elite

Damn this is one foggy pier

When Harley starts with “your protection is based on the fact that people are scared of you” you expect her to say that it’s wrong or something but she says “I’m the one they should be scared of” this movie messed with tropes so much

That also includes the whole “one bullet” thing—Harley misses with her one bullet, and you don’t really know what’s gonna happen next

“I took your ring”

You can pinpoint exactly when Harley and Roman realize what Cass did

I’d put the entire taco scene here if I could

Renee moving the drink away from cass shows her caring side—she doesn’t want a kid to get into alcohol and make the mistakes she did

“Does she always talk like the cop in a bad eighties movie?”

Harley and Cass stealing the car is a fun way to show that she may be on the side of the good guys sometimes, but that doesn’t necessarily make her one

“Woman” by Kesha

Wow the outfits in this scene are iconic

I mean they are in the whole movie but I especially like these

Cass riding around with Harley and a hyena, wearing cute outfits and learning the ways of chaos

Harley got her sandwich!

The credit art for this movie is cool

Especially how they represent each character

In conclusion this is still my favorite movie

I know I’ve been kinda absent recently, but watching this again has really reminded me how much I love it. I got really busy but I’m going to Make An Effort to be a contributing member of the bop fandom again.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

[fizzingwizard]

We got episode 3 “Into the Digital World”! And the good news is we are still Very Much at it with the Taishiro lol

This pic pretty much sums up the whole episode for me:

❤️!

Spoilers under the cut...

So let’s knock the most important thing off right away, at the end of the ep they DO go to a real digital world!

And it looks like a child’s fantasy... a beautiful natural world full of amazing creatures. I have no idea how similar it’s gonna be to the world we know, though! So far everything’s different, even things that seem the same. Keeps me guessing.

The landscape is pretty intriguing. Looks like a planet/moon on the horizon? And I’m sure that interesting island’s gotta mean something...

But back to the beginning.

So last week, I was all boggled because they introduced Omegamon and Jogress so early. It was easy to think that since they’d started this hype wave, they were gonna keep riding it out, especially with Hikari and Takeru seeming to receive magic feathers and all. Well, that’s not really how it goes down.

The battle is very quiet, with few words - none at all from Taichi or Yamato until Koushirou gets their attention. I am not 100% sure about this, but from the way Taichi looks to the side when an attack comes his way and Omegamon then takes it out, I think it might mean Taichi and Yamato have some mental work of their own to do to help Omegamon fight and that’s why they’re so quiet. But that’s just a thought. I do love the idea that the kids’ ties to their Digimon have more of an affect on their ability to battle than just their evolutions.

One thing a Jogress does is make you glow. Yeah yeah, we glowed before too. No, I mean GLOW.

Like, nonstop.

Also, I have figured out that Taichi and Yamato must have suction cups on their shoes and that’s how they don’t fall off Omegamon while he’s hurtling all over the place

Cue awesome rock version of the theme song battle music!! Omegamon kills nu!Diaboromon the same way he kills him in Our War Game, with a STAB. But that doesn’t stop the missile. Here I thought would be Koushirou’s turn to shine, but aside from continuing to keep tabs on things, he doesn’t get to join in the fight this time.

Omegamon is somehow able to detect missiles, I guess?

And lock on to the infected one, which conveniently shows an actual lock, is red, and even has the monster’s eyeball symbol. We also see a bunch of Digi code before this.

He absorbs the powers of all the Crests into his sword (!!) ...

(notice they’re still glowing!)

... and stabs it. Because in Digimon, stabbing is always the answer.

BOOM shakalaka

People of Tokyo: Wow that’s bright! I should probably avert my eyes or put on sunglasses. But first, to Instagram!

Thanks, Kouushirou’s computer.

The missle blows up way up high and no one gets hurt. They also don’t seem to care all that much about what this is either! Seconds later everyone’s devices lose power, including Koushirou’s computer. He is very distressed, but the outage doesn’t last long.

Yamato and Taichi’s suction cups finally lose their grip and they fall away into a bright light...

Omegamon became a butterfly!!

It is now certain, Taichi didn’t pull a Kouichi xD He’s perfectly fine. That’s the RIGHT way to get in and out of the digital world at a train station. Take notes, kids.

OK before we move on I must take a second to appreciate these text messages Koushirou receives from someone named Mr.Unknown (gee I’m sure we’ll never hear from him again!)

OMG my life is

WHAT KIND OF REACTION IS THAT TO YOUR IMMINENT DEATH!?!?

“Someone stop it!” Suddenly Japanese (also from Mr.Unkown)

Twenty bucks says this guy is Gennai? Ryou? Wallace? KEN?!

no don’t bet against me please, I have no money.

Have an adorable Hikari, who didn’t get to do anything with the feather in the end. Who knows if she even really has it. She DOES seem to totally know what happened with her brother though. Takeru might know also? But Hikari definitely does. Our little oracle is back.

So Taichi is fine, Koushirou is fine, Yamato is fine. They all get back to the human world safely. Taichi and Koushirou head home, wondering if all that really happened, talking about what could happen next. More importantly, the Taishiro power returns at full throttle.

Koushirou: Do you know about this? This? This?

Taichi: Hmm... hmmm... hmmm.. thinking makes my head hurt...

(Like I rag on Taichi for not thinking but tbh he’s quite the thinker and planner... maybe more so in this season than in the original.)

Gloves returned to pocket. Goggles still at the ready.

Then Taichi reaches out his hand... Koushirou stares at it like he’s not quite sure what to do with it. And Taichi’s like, “Thank you so much, for everything, you were a huge help!”

Koushirou: “But I didn’t do anything.”

Taichi: “You helped so much by doing all that research! You’re awesome!”

Koushirou: :D “Y-Yeah!!”

He agrees that he’s awesome!! My baby!!

They shake hands! They’re such good friends now!

... Then Taichi walks backwards out of the elevator with his hand still outstretched, staring at Koushirou

WHAT

WHAT THE HECK IS THIS!?!?

This show producers aren’t even TRYING to hide their bias hahaha okay that’s the Taishiro fan in me but HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO READ THIS SCENE CMON LIKE!?

So Taichi’s about to go home, and at this point I’m thinking “I guess Koushirou’s never gonna ask that question about camp...!”

Then Taichi is like, “Oh yeah, didn’t you have a question about camp?”

Fricking. TAICHI.

I am absolutely stunned that it’s him who brings up Koushirou’s original errand xD Koushirou himself has completely forgotten about it! (Too busy basking in the glow of being called awesome about twenty times in what this episode establishes is less than an hour!)

Seriously Taichi is SUCH A DAD!? His mom comes home and tells him about her day. Hikari comes over and he pats her on the head and tells her she was brave and did a good job. All he needs is a newspaper and a tie to reach peak Dad-ness.

Hikari: “Thanks big brother!”

Taichi: “...? For?”

So about Yamato... on the elevator Taichi realizes he never found out where Yamato lives...

... It’s Shimane. Grandma’s house in Shimane! Well I mean, they could make it somewhere else, but the point is it’s super inaka countryside. Yamato has a call with Takeru which makes it seem like they indeed don’t live together, as Takeru shyly asks Yamato if he’ll come visit since it’s summer break, and Yamato says he does intend to go to Tokyo and see him. Not sure yet who Yamato’s living with, if it’s still his dad or he lives with his grandparents in this version, or there’s some other reason he’s not in Tokyo...

Yamato also asks if Takeru’s okay, and Takeru replies he was inside all day so he’s fine. That’s what makes me think Takeru knows about Yamato going to the digital world. He might not, but I like the idea that he does. My guess would be he knows because he’s seen Yamato do it or something, whereas Hikari just knows because she’s psychic :P

Then guess what! WE GO TO CAMP!

Only for like, two minutes, though. That was a bummer for me. Camp is just a vehicle to introduce a couple other characters, then they go home. Well, we don’t need two of the exact same show I guess... I’ll just appreciate this as a nod to the original.

First we see Jou! He’s hancho again and trying to tell other kids how to use a knife. He immediately cuts his finger. Good ole Jou I can’t wait to have him back.

Taichi and Koushirou are walking around camp and Koushirou trips due to Jou yelling and basically throws his laptop straight into the air

Laptop: “FREEEEEDOM!”

Mr Superior Reflexes AKA Taichi quickly grabs Koushirou and prevents him from smashing face first into the dirt. GOSH THEY JUST WILL NOT STOP WITH THE TAISHIRO. I CANNOT.

Koushirou: “H-H-Human c-c-contact?!?!?! Is this SKINSHIP”

Like y’all know this isnt my fault right? I wouldn’t have to say these things if the show didn’t make it so durn easy. Bahahahaha.

Guess who catches the laptop! Soooooraaaaa!

My girl is back! She’s got butterflies!

Koushirou says he knows who she is because the girls in his class always talk about how she’s so cooooool!

This episode establishes that Sora is 1) popular 2) well-liked 3) responsible 4) quick-thinking 5) athletic 6) Taichi’s old friend 7) coooooool in like, thirty seconds.

Taichi and Koushirou continue to spend aaaaaall their time together. My one complaint here is that all they do is talk about the digital world. And while I know it’s no surprise, the one thing I always loved about old Adventure was that to a certain extent, the kids got to act like kids. Of course they had uncanny adult wisdom and ability to sit still, lol. I understand that. So far in this show, they’re not really acting like children even a little bit. It’s all superheroing. That’s how I feel at the moment though - the only one I expect to really act like a child is Takeru, and probably Mimi, I’d guess. I do hope we get to see a larger range of personality from all of them in the future. It is only episode three.

Koushirou’s icon is a pineapple <3

So there’s a new threat but it’s not as obvious as the old one. Another power outage happens but they don’t know how important it is right away. Then both Taichi and Koushirou’s digivices start to glow! Taichi runs out, and here we finally got some new personality from him, something beyond friendliness and bravery: He really, really wants to see Agumon again. He’s already feeling the depth of that bond and it’s really been weighing on him that they parted so abruptly. He has so many questions. I would say, Koushirou talked about the digital world non stop because he finds it interesting, but Taichi talked about it because he misses Agumon. (Koushirou after all hasn’t met Tentomon yet.)

Before he can run out, Taichi runs into Hikari in the living room. She’s worried, and she clearly knows what he’s up to, but all she says is “Itterasshai.” I super appreciate that the set up and lighting is the same as these scenes between the two of them in original Adventure! It’s a total throwback to that hallmark ep of Adventure, episode 21.

Unable to think about anything but seeing Agumon again, Taichi runs outside to the train station where Koushirou is (I wonder if the train station is going to become like their base point or something). He doesn’t even notice Sora, but she notices him...

... and in true Sora fashion, immediately turns around and starts chasing after Taichi without a word xD

ugh I will always hate how PINK she is in this

Sora: “Taichi’s running somewhere awful fast... he has that look on his face... he’s going to get into trouble ugh I just know it”

The digivices glow and both Taichi and Koushirou disappear into the digital world. As they go through the vortex, we see a bunch of colored lights...

So this one is clearly Taichi and Koushirou, and Sora as well. My guess is she gets swallowed up as a result of following Taichi.

However, over here we have Yamato, Jou, and Mimi, but why would they all be together? Yamato’s fine, but how are the other two getting in?

It doesn’t seem like Takeru’s joining this time, which is interesting. But I might be wrong - only episode 4 will tell.

Taichi wakes up in the real Digital World and is finally reunited with Agumon. End episode 3 <3

I’m really curious about what’s coming next! I’m still pretty shocked that a Jogress happened so early, but I’m gonna guess now that we might not see it again for a good long while. My prediction is that Yamato’s gonna be more like the lone wolves of other seasons (Ken, Ruki, Kouji, etc) who don’t want to join the main team right away, then suddenly just do. Everyone loves a rogue hero. I am super excited for the whole team to be together though so we can see all those personality dynamics grow! I really want them to not go home for a while and have to live by their wits, but I don’t think that’s the way this show wants to go, it wants the drama of going back and forth between lives... OTOH, we now know for sure that it IS summer break, so I suppose they don’t really have a NEED to go home. Maybe we’ll get a bit of both - they usually go home after, but sometimes end up on a longer stay?

I think what I need most from this show is the rest of the team before it will really feel like Digimon Adventure to me. So looking forward to episode 4!

eta: I totally forgot about the pics I took of the trailer for next week!

Look how awesome this is! This is exactly what I am hoping sticks around for a good long time! We need the partners to bond and we need to live up to the name of “Adventure”!

Since the trailer only shows Taichi and Sora, I wonder if that means everyone’s split up. Koushirou’s light seemed a bit distant from the other two in that screencap up there, so maybe he lands somewhere else and they all have to find each other. Makes sense, really. I’d expected that for the other three but figured Koushirou would be with Taichi... but it’ll be awesome if he has to try to get by on his own in the beginning. Also, so excited for Birdramon!

Bonus: I found a vid on youtube that claimed to have English subs and I clicked out of curiosity... this is what it wrote when Taichi says “Koushirou”:

X’D Koushirou has so many nicknames now. DJ Wiseman, Kou the Bro, Awesome, Taichi’s New God, Godzilla... I love Youtube.

[dickmedownmendess]

His Lucky Charm

I’ve never done an imagine so I’m just taking a stab at it. I’ve really taken a liken to Baby Brash™ so I figured why the hell not, I’m just going to write an imagine about loving on him and see where it takes me.

Connor x Reader

Summary; when the going gets tough, the tough get going...or snuggle with their girlfriend to make it better. 

Warnings; fluff (as fluffy as I can make it), maybe a tad bit of smut (because i'm a freaky girl *wink wink*) & minor cursing

Words; 3.1k

-

I do not own this photo.*

-

To express the day Connor was having into a couple of words would be: a Monday. From the start of his day he was rushing, because his alarm didn’t go off since it died—as a result of falling asleep on FaceTime with you—so he skipped out on breakfast to accommodate with the schedule. Haven been on the tour with Shawn for quite sometime now, he was accustomed to Shawn’s busy agenda. However, today he just couldn’t fall into pace with what was going on. 

The gym they went to was fairly pack, and all he wanted to do was jog a little, but everyone decided cardio was their main focus, leaving only free treadmill available, and it didn’t even work properly. At the time, to take the edge off of his rising blood pressure—and growling stomach—he ordered a smoothie. It was terrible. And as if the morning couldn’t get any worse, he left his phone at the hotel to let it charge. The morning felt like a full day alone, as he awaited his team members and Shawn to finish lifting. 

The rainy afternoon brought a small amount of better luck, his phone had enough juice that he could talk to you. His first message being;

Brashy: I’m tired of this fucking day. I need you back. 

You were immediately enlightened to the kind of day he was having. Also answering why he took so long to text you. (Not that you were upset, he just had a routine of sending you a good morning text at the same time every single day since you two have been dating).

Babygirl; aww B, stay strong, it’ll get better. You need a booty pic to take the pain away?

He knew your sense of humor, so the likelihood of getting an actual ass pic was slim (although he actually could use one), but it was still soothing to him that you knew how to put a smile on his face during troubling times. It did make the rainy day relatively more gloomier, his desire to be snuggled with you in a comfortable bed, listening to the rain, and music—it was strong enough to have him calling quits on this tour, but that was just his crazy mind-talk. 

While out for lunch with Shawn and the crew, the waitress served everyone’s food, placing a plate in front of him, he looked at it confusingly. “I, um,” he stammers glancing over at Shawn who was equally confused as to what they gave him, “I didn’t order this ma’am.” He politely informs, handing the plate back to her. She was extremely apologetic, and reassuring that they would get his correct order out straight away. He tried his best not to look frustrated, but his patience was wearing thin. 

“You’re just having one of those days, aye?” Shawn questions after noticing the annoyance that unconsciously displayed on his blemishless face. He had witnessed all the mishaps that came at the young photographer. 

Sighing heavily, Connor rolls his eyes, “you have no idea. It’s like if it’s not one thing, it’s another.” He mutters. 

“Well be glad there’s no concert today, so after this we’ll have one more meeting and you’ll be free as a bird to go hide in a box before any more bad things happen to you.” Shawn teases earning a nudge from Connor. 

Connor finally received what he ordered, and as he expected, it wasn’t good. He still ate it however, not wanting to go into the last meeting hungry since he overheard Andrew saying it would be a longer one. 

“To kill two birds with one stone, we’re deliberating on the documentary progress, and plans for the next leg of the tour.” Shawn told him as they traveled to the building. 

The meeting was a little delayed since they had to wait on men they are partnering with to produce the documentary. Connor’s knee bounced in anticipation, his fingers tapping on the wooden table. He was mostly fidgety because he was freezing, with the combination of rain that got on him and the cold air conditioned room, and the lack of extra layers he wore—it was the middle of summer, he dressed according to the season—he was inconveniently underdressed. But as time went by his shirt dried, and his body adjusted to the climate. The meeting was going smoothly, to his dismay. He had earned a few compliments for his excellent videography, and he hadn’t made any mistakes, or caused any accidents as the men talked amongst the large round table. His hopeful thinking was thought about too, however, because as soon as the time to review the documentary he was producing came up, the lack of good luck he was having refreshed his memory. It took an IT technician, and fifteen added minutes—to an already prolonged meeting—to get the video working, but ultimately they were able to watch, discuss and critique what changes should be made. Ending the meeting to everybody’s relief. Especially Connor’s. 

“Hey Con, we’re going to change and go to a club here in town. You tagging along?” Shawn asked on their way out of the conference room. Connor glances down at his silent phone, a trace of concern rising since he hadn’t gotten a single notification from you. 

“Nah, I’m going to sit this one out and check in on y/n.” He ensures with a soft smile. 

Shawn purses his lips, giving a cheeky grin, “aw, young love. You gotta love it man.” Connor pushes off his mockery, but the burn in his cheeks only intensifies the tall singer’s notions as he messes with him all the way to the truck. 

On the way to the hotel Connor checks his social media in hopes of finding you on there doing something that would justify why you haven’t replied to any of his messages. He wouldn’t usually obsess over your whereabouts, trying to keep an open mind that you are as equally busy as he is. But today was just a tough day that required your attention a lot more than what he was receiving. This was also the first time that he had spent more than a week away from you, seeing as you had came on the tour with him for the first couple of weeks, but you had to return home for summer classes. 

The downpour had intensified since the meeting resulting in Connor’s entire body getting drenched on his way into the hotel. The exhaustion weighed heavy in his limbs, with the amount of misfortune he dealt with in one day, he felt like he ran a marathon. His only request at this point was to hear your voice, take the dripping clothes off, and try again tomorrow. 

As he made his way to his room, he could hear the muffled sound of music being played inside. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as he glanced to the other unbothered guys entering their own rooms in a hurry to get out of their wet clothes. Shawn and Brian were the only ones who stopped briefly to flash him their goofy smiles. 

His breath hollowed out as he quietly pushed the door open, the sound of the vinyl player increasing from across the room. A smile spread across his lips immediately as he closes the door without disrupting you. His heart fluttered as he took you in where he stood in the entrance. A t-shirt of his adorned your torso, stopping just short enough that your butt was peaking out, and your legs were bare extended up in the air, crossed at the ankles. You lay on your stomach, your eyes cast down at the book, scanning intently across the pages, engulfed into the text. 

Clear of disturbing the peace, he slips off his shoes, his cold, wet socks squishing across the ground as he peels out of his shirt. Before goes to interrupt you his photographer-sensors go off, knowing he has to capture the palatable moment on his phone.

You were far too deep into the world of literature to detect his presence, until the warmth of his body weighs into your backside. Your body twitches under him in surprise, before you breathed out a muffled laugh into the book your head was pressed into. 

“Hi precious.” You mumble, your laugh growing as his fiery kiss heated the side of your neck, shoulder, ear...everywhere. You felt acutely ridiculous for how excited your body was reacting in his grasp, as though you weren’t being held by him not even a full week ago-as it seemed. 

He lifts his face from your neck to a breath, “hi baby.” He whispers close to your ear. You take the time he breaks away to turn your head, peering at him from your peripheral. The grey sky illuminating light from the drawn back curtains, splashed over his marvelous features. You loved what you saw even in your strained view. He lays his hands on either side of your head to hoist himself up so you could spin into a more comfortable position underneath him. 

His jean clad legs itched atop yours, the wetness you felt from them diverted your attention away from his warm lips pressing into yours. 

“Mm-Connor.” You mumbled under his velvet lips. He ignores you, positioning himself so he had even more access to your mouth that he so deliciously worked on, tongue playing with yours strategically. You couldn’t deny the very-missed kiss was pulling your attention away from his wet jeans, but as he pressed his erection directly at your core, which was only covered by the skimpy panties, your attention was back on the minor issue. 

You gasp into his mouth, grabbing his cheeks and pushing his face back. “Connor David.” You exhale, laughter lacing your words. 

His cheeks are red, and his eyes vivid even in the dimly lit room. “What babe.” He says almost impatiently, but in a soft tone. 

“Your jeans are cold as fuck, and itching me.” You giggle, rubbing your hands across his wet jean clad butt, he moves away from your touch also snickering. 

Removing himself from off of you, your body shivers at the discard of his warmth. He tugs the belt, keeping his eyes steady on you, you smirk scooting back on the bed until your back is against the headboard. You watch intently. Admiring every ounce of your boyfriend. 

“Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again.” He demands gently. 

You cock a brow at him, confused by his meaning. The jeans fall to his ankles, his tight boxers and erection greeting you at eye level. “I thought something happened to you when you hadn’t respond.” He clarifies, at which you almost didn’t comprehend, too mesmerized by the v-lines dipping into his erected boxer. 

You blink back into reality, nodding your head with understanding. “I’m sorry baby, I just figured, why give you a booty pic via text message when you can have the real thing right here in front of you.” Your voice dips into a seductive tone, eyes lowering in a sensual way. He loved the way you lowered your eyes and looked at him through your long lashes. 

He wonders how his dick and heart hasn’t fell out of his body, but he puts it to the side as he crawls back into the bed so he could be with you. 

The lust that coursed through him, subsides as he takes in the harmonious voice of Daniel Caesar, singing Best Part. He replaces your spot, leaning against the headboard as you rest your head on his chest. His muscles loosened instantly, heartbeat decelerating like he just got shot by a tranquilizer. 

Caressing your cheek, he looks down at you. “I’m so glad you’re here. You really do make hard days better.” He admits never breaking his gaze on you. 

You two were still fairly new in your relationship; you guys talked for several months while he was still attending classes at UCLA. But then he had to tie you down, proposing going steady a few months before he started the tour with Shawn. The sweet confessions came, but they were only occasional. And by occasional—you mean when you two are posting sweet little nothings about each other on social media. Although you both were sincere in what was posted, you two rarely voice how much you really do care for one another. Even if it’s visible how much you do.  

It made your entire body hot, your heart fluttering as he places a chaste kiss on your lips, almost in a way to let it be known it wasn’t his dick talking, or any lust attached to how he felt. You bit your lip, fluttering your eyes open to his stunning ones. No matter how long you two will be together, the vibrancy of his eyes will be something you’ll never get used to. 

“I’m glad you chose me.” You admit, smiling. You and him both knew he had his fair share of women who wanted that throne you proudly own. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on you, however, that he wanted you. It took a lot of convincing, dates and actions that matched his declaration of how badly he wanted to be with you. He enjoyed the chase, but he cherished having you to himself far more. 

The bad day that he had sheds away from him as he held you in the silence, the grainy vinyl and soothing rain making you guys placid. 

Eventually, he decided he should shower, the rain not sporting the best smell, although you didn’t mind. His scent was something you’re accustomed to, no matter how it’s manipulated the soothing natural odor belonging to him was still present. 

As he showered you took the initiative to join him. His surprised expression photo-worthy as you pushed inside. After a half hour of frolicking in the hot shower: Kissing every thirty seconds, while telling each other reasons why you like each other so much: Washing his back and him doing the same (which results in him feeling on your ass): To attempting to have sex, but stopping after he trips and nearly kill both of you. You two are barely dried as he carries you to the bed. 

His body, which was only covered by a towel, falls on your hardly covered one as he drops you down on the sheet. You giggle into his continuous gentle kiss. “Why do you keep kissing me?” You say in between pecks. 

Connor feigns offense as he leans back. “You’re kissing me.” He retorts earning your roll of eyes as she tuts. “Did you really come all this way because you knew I was having a bad day and you wanted to give me the booty via-reality?” He asks after silence fell. 

You laugh at ‘via-reality’ holding his squishy cheeks squared to your face, “no baby. I had it already planned to come. It was just a coincidence that you weren’t having a good day. So call it good luck that I was able to rescue the day.” You reassure pecking his nose. 

Pondering for a moment, he looks at you through his thick eyelashes, the arrays of blues and greens in his irises nearly beamed at you, “you really are the luckiest thing that has blessed me. Honestly. I’ve been blessed.” He says it with almost disbelief.

The sweet confessions are all so overwhelming you couldn’t help yourself from climbing on him. The towel hiding your body slips a little, your cleavage coming into view. 

“You’re literally the best Brash.” You mumble into the side of his neck as you hold him close to you. You leave a hot kiss on his neck, traveling up until you hovered over his ear, “I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else right now.” You meekly say, breathing softly as his hands cupped your ass, you lightly nibble at his earlobe. 

He groans, hands tightening. You could feel the response to your actions in his lap as he pressed his erection up into you. Carefully, he  peeled back the towel, his breath fanning over your collarbone as he left wet kisses across it, until he dips down to take an erected nipple into his mouth. You instantly moan, hands rising to grip his wet hair. 

Just as the intensity of both of your touches and kisses grew a knock at the door disrupted it all. Connor all but screamed as he leaned away from you. 

Cez’s voice sounded at the door as the muffled, “I only need you for five minutes. Bring your camera please.” confirmed it was important. He scurried out of bed to slip on a pair of shorts, leaving his chest bare. 

“Do not move.” He instructs with his hand held out. You giggle and nod your head obediently. He sighs inspecting you once more. You looked like a renaissance painting, perched up in the bed with the towel loosely hanging at your hips, hair gorgeously messed up around your shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to ignore his bosses and stay in bed. 

By the time he was finished showing Cez and Andrew photos from the last concert, you had dozed off. He doesn’t try to wake you once he’s back in the room, he takes another photo from his camera instead. Your hair covered your face, and your bare back was the only visible thing. The photo looks staged, even in your natural unconscious state was it easy to capture your beauty. He gets his phone and puts the new photo on his Instagram story (which is a bold move for him since he’s never posted a photo of this sort) captioning it with:

“No matter how bad a day can be, she sure can turn it around.” 

Placing the phone on the bedside table, he cautiously press down on your back, giving you a gentle kiss right behind your ear, before snuggling in beside you. You stirred a little at his suddenness, but fell right back asleep, him doing the same.

——

So it’s not my best work and I’m sorry about that. I’m not really used to writing in second person point of view so it’s something I’ll probably only do occasionally. But we all want CONtent so I just wanted to share a little.

[spiltscribbles]

combo of 7 & 8 for pynch hehe :)

Notes: Thank you so much love!!!  |   Send Me A Prompt 

.-

“It’s the last straw! I’m done! I’m over it!” Blue stabs the spoon into her yogurt, teeth clenched, and knuckles white. Adam, like the good friend he is, just calmly slides it out of her hand and gives her a banana instead.

“She’s not that bad of a roommate,” he tells her with a one armed shrug. The look she shoots him can only be described as the personification of betrayal. Adam can’t believe it’s the third time he’s rolled his eyes at her and it hasn’t hit nine in the morning yet.

“They were naked Adam! Nude! Birthday suits!”

“The biblical state,” Henry tacks on and Blue nods along graciously.

Make it four times before nine in the morning.

“It’s Orla…. She’s eccentric

“It was on the couch! I sit on that couch Adam!” blue hits her hand against the table, fully indignant now.

“I really would recommend having it at the very least steam cleaned before partaking in that activity  again,” Henry advises sagely as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Oh no! No way! I will never sit on that couch another day of my life!”

“Glad to see you’re taking this reasonably,” Adam says, voice blithe, as he brings their cereal bowls to the sink.

“Don’t start with me Adam! You haven’t seen the things I have! The freckles and birthmarks— The hair.” Blue shutters and henry slings an arm around her slim shoulders in comfort, clucking his tongue all the while.

Fifth…. It’s been the fifth time now.

“So how do you reckon you’ll live in there without sitting on the couch ever again?” He needles with a quirked brow, fully having decided to just fall into the dramatics. It’s always easier for him at the end of the day  when just excepting it.

“I’m moving out! Duh.”

“Oo, My Blueberry is becoming her very own American woman!” Henry preens. “Let me get you a chic new outfit Sabrina style!”

“That movie is sexist and culturally appropriates middle eastern garb.” Blue sniffs.

“Good to know that the new Blue has still got all her old spunk.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Adam tells them, lips pinched.

“We bring bursts of color into your otherwise stale existence,” Blue argues loftily.

“Ridiculous,” Adam repeats with feeling.

“Lying doesn’t become you my dear Henrietta Prince,” Henry tells him far too frankly before turning his attention back to Blue. “You know you’ve got a place here if you want it.”

“Where?” Blue snorts. “In your living room?”

“Our couch doesn’t have naked Orla germs,” Adam offers halfheartedly. 

Blue just levels him with a unimpressed look, and Adam’s got flashbacks to junior year when Maura caught the pair of them getting drunk off Persephone’s peach wine coolers.

It’s terrifying.

“Charming. But no need, I’ve already begun sifting around for places nearby that are looking for a new roommate.”

Adam takes the papers she’s already printed off and begins shuffling through them.

“This one has like five cats,” he tells her with a curled lip.

“It sounds homey.”

“You’re allergic,” Adam rebukes. 

“I’m desperate Adam!” Blue reminds him.

“This one has a picture of him wearing a MAGA hat on his facebook profile pic,” Henry informs her, holding a second listing.

“Okay not that desperate,” Blue crumples it up and tosses it to the side. Adam would tell her to throw it in the trash like an adult but reasons she’s having a moment. 

“Mmm, what about this one,” she waves around the paper and Henry takes it to look over himself.

“It’s with three random dudes.”

“Three normal looking dudes,” Blue presses. “And so to reiterate, I’m desperate.”

“Ted Bundy was a normal looking dude,” Adam charges, making Blue glare at him menacingly.

“Adam I can still see flesh in my nightmares!”

Sixth, sixth time he’s rolled his eyes. Jesus fucking Christ Adam is gonna be sent to an early grave because of  an aneurism from them.

.-

The problem is that when Blue sets her mind on something, not even the angels above can dissuade  her from it, so that’s why Adam spends his Saturday afternoon— the only one he’s had off from a shoot in literally three months— driving to some sketch apartment with her and Henry, in the latter’s abrasively flashy sports car. 

He feels like a fraud.

“Blueberry are you sure you put in the right address?” Henry asks, face scrunched in confusion once they cruise into the open parking spot in front of a dilapidated looking  manufacturing building.

Blue flickers her eyes back down towards her phone before glancing up with a sure nod. 

“Look it says Monmouth right over there on the sign near the front door. This’s the right place.” 

“Right place to get murdered,” Adam intones darkly. 

Blue only tosses him a glare before slipping out.

“Are we bad people for going along with this?” Henry asks Adam, his mouth downturned in concern.

“Nah, we were bad people long before this.” Adam assures him wryly  before following suit.

.-

“I don’t want a new roommate,” Ronan tells Gansey for the third time in the past hour. In turn, Gansey only rolls his eyes before trying to stuff the old pizza boxes into the trash can. God fucking damn it, Helen’s right, they do live like pigs.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Noah contends. “It’ll bring some new energy in this place.”

“Oy, what did I tell you about saying shit like energy and chakras.”

“That’s it’s something a douche hipster would say and you’d throw me out a window if you heard it again.”

“And yet.”

“All I can say to that is dude you need to clear your chakras.” Noah says, fully goading, and making it so an unexpected laugh tears out of Ronan, the total prick.

“For the love that is all holy and right, will you two please just attempt to act normal when she gets here.”

“It’s a girl?”

“A girl with models as friends,” Noah perks, completely beaming. “And you know what that means,” Noah winks and Ronan, for the good of the public, cuffs him on the back of the head. Hard.

“You fucking sly dog, how do you even know that?”

“Preliminary interview through the phone,” Noah shrugs. “She sounds nice, better than living with that guy with a pet snake.”

“That snake was fucking cool.” Ronan argues.

“There’s a one pet limit here, and your raven has taken the slot.” Gansey huffs, hand on his hip like Aurora would do if Ronan and Declan were being especially rowdy. “And Noah don’t ask about her model friends, that’s creepy.”

“That’s kind of my shtick man.” Noah points out, wide eyed.

“Less horror film creepy and more loser from Revenge of the Nerds creepy,” Gansey clarifies scoldingly.

Noah swallows down a lump, properly cowed.

It’s right then when the doorbell rings and Gansey frantically puts in the last of the empty cups into the dishwasher from the sink before scurrying to the doorway, Noah and Ronan on his heals.

Ronan knows he lost the battle and the war the moment the door swings open and the first thing the pixie sized, colorfully dressed girl says is a glowing “Blank 182?” While gesturing towards Noah’s… Well Noah’s everything.

Noah looks like the cat who’s gotten into the cream, Gansey looks more glowing than usual, and Ronan can’t take his eyes off the sandy haired boy she’s brought along with her.

.-

Living with Blue is a beast that Ronan can’t quite figure out how to defeat.

She, probably like any sane person, expects the house to be in some sort of semblance— aka no more jackets and other innocuous articles of clothing thrown about the shared living space, and for dishes to be rinsed after use and put into the dishwasher accordingly. 

“Your rooms can be as trashy as you want, but can we please not make the whole place a pigsty,” she had sniffed with a cocked head and jut out hip. Gansey of course nodded giddily— on account to his staring at her all moony ever since meeting her— Noah had shrugged, indifferent. But Ronan held out as long as possible, sneer on his lips. But alas, she met his every zig with a zag and he found himself in a stalemate.

But Ronan could deal with the tidiness and even the impromptu yoga sessions she holds with randoms from her classes at university. Hell he could deal with her weird obsession with Yogurt too, and can actually listen to her rants about the patriarchy and institutional blocks that keeps the impoverished and people of color and women down from being able to achieve feats once only meant for wealthy white men. Fuck, Ronan’s come to think her particular brand of spitfire humor is actually hilarious.

So yes all of this is fine. But with Blue comes them. Henry Cheng, best friend she met at some art class her freshman year. And fucking Adam Parrish, apparently someone she’s known for so long and so intimately that she refers to him as family more often than not.

And yeah. Ronan is not jealous and Noah needs to take that fucking sneer off his face.

“You’re jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Ronan yells emphatically for the fifth time.

“Ronan has a crush!”

“Noah God so help me!” He threatens, totally venomous.

“You’re in loveee!” 

“Noah I will destroy you!”

.-

Okay so Ronan might be sorta, kinda, not jealous…. But bothered. Yes Bothered. He’s bothered because he can’t fucking figure out Blue and Adam’s deal. One second they’re sniping at one another about the economy and the next she’s lying her head in his lap while he’s carding a hand through her hair.

Fucking salacious shit.

But occasionally, on especially good days, Blue falls asleep early and instead of going back home right away, Adam stays. He stays and he shares a drink with Ronan on the porch and they talk about nothing really, but also a lot of things. Ronan find’s out he basically grew up with Blue, that she was his first everything. He’s deaf in his left ear and he didn’t mean to fall into modeling but he didn’t have enough money to finish the semester at MIT and instead of giving up he took up some side gigs which eventually culminated into a career of his own. 

Ronan finds out that Adam’s favorite flavor of ice cream is cow tracks and his front tooth is chipped from behind.  Adam has a small, crooked smile and when he laughs its more breath than sound and its absolutely lovely.

Ronan finds this all out but still has no idea whether he has a shot.

And again, he’s bothered.

.-

“I vote on something classic,” Blue tells them with a sip of her shake. (Read the shake Adam bought but Blue somehow still always drinks half of even while she complains about being on a diet, which then leads her to grouse about how Adam stays narrow and lithe even if he eats four quarter pounders back to back).

Sadly, this happened once and only once when Adam was especially stressed over a finals week and hadn’t eaten for literally three straight days. 

She really has seen him at his worst.

“Ooo, let’s watch some singing in the rain! I’m ready to belt out some toons.” Henry crows.

“Oh well if it includes your perfectly pitched singing,” Adam says flatly. Blue promptly elbow checks him and Henry waggles his tongue out.

“Sounds good to me Henry, so where?”

“Your place?” Adam says, brow kinked and trying to smother down the hopefulness in his voice. Of course, it doesn’t work. They know him better than anyone else, and they immediately stick him with matching smirks.

“Pray tell Parrish, me and you have the better entertainment system by far, and yet you’ve been insistent on heading to Blueberry’s place for our weekly movie nights for the past two months…. Hah, I wonder what two months signify?”

“Ooo ooo! I know Henry, I know!” Blue teases swinging her arm up high like an excited school girl. “I just moved into Monmouth and Then Adam over here got all slack jawed and goofily eyed over my scary roommate!”

“Blueberry gets the point!” Henry squawks, giving her a makeshift bracelet out of the straw wrapper.

Adam looks at them both with as much fury as he could muster, cheeks infused red, and jaw locked.

In retort, they only laugh ebulliently.

Adam is so tempted to make new friends.

.-

Ronan opens the door on a random Thursday afternoon a week later and Adam steels his nerves, not about to back down.

“Oh, ah Parrish.” His prominent brows furrow together, suspicious. “Maggot isn’t here yet.”

“I know,” Adam says, head tipped high. “Can I come in?”

Ronan only shrugs as he moves aside to give him the room to enter.

“You look like you have something squirming up your ass,” Ronan tells him, as blunt and as crass as ever.

Adam silently questions to the universe why is it that he’s so resoundingly attracted to him for that.

“You’re so eloquent with your words Lynch, you know that?” Adam tells him, completely flat, and making it so Ronan’s answering grin is something feral and amused.

“So you gonna just stand there looking pretty or actually get it out?”

“Jesus Christ, do you have an ounce of patience in your entire body?”

“I sweat it out at the gym, you wouldn’t know that skinny.” Ronan barbs, hip checking him while he struts to the kitchen.

Adam just glares after his form… His well built and deliciously broad shoulders.

“Still got enough muscle to beat your ass,” Adam teases and Ronan leers, impressed. Adam walks closer, magnetized. 

“So Blue’s enlightened me about something.”

Ronan hikes up a brow, betraying his mask of indifference.

“Is that right. What? Did Maggot make you understand that the hand holding and lovey-dovey looks are getting abrasive?”

Adam is utterly confused to what he’s talking about— Did he find out about the crush, and if so does that mean he’s already, wordlessly rejected Adam. Is Ronan completely uncomfortable right now.

Adam shakes off the questions, is determined to just plunge in for once in his life without beating a situation to death with analysis.

“She’s enlightened me that my crush on you is getting to ridiculous levels of yearning and i should just ask you out like an adult.”

A thousand different expressions pull at Ronan’s face until finding landing at something Adam can only call aw.

“Oh— Ah, wait. Wait do you like me?”

Adam rolls his eyes heavenwards. God he really is going to get an aneurysm.

“You are such a doofus,” Adam sighs before inkling his head forwards and kissing Ronan senseless.

Ronan grabs his head and presses impossibly closer.

.-

Later that night, when Henry and Blue march in with the decided upon movie they both begin to preen at the sight of them, exchange bills with Noah and Gansey too.

Again, Adam is going to be sent to an early grave. But hey, if in the meanwhile Ronan does that thing with his tongue, Adam will at least enjoy his final earthly days.

[twdeadfanfic]

The first to blow your mind Pt.7

Daryl Dixon x Reader

*Summary:  It’s Daryl Dixon’s 18th birthday and he can’t stop his brother from dragging him to the strip club, one of Merle’s favourite places, to celebrate. There’s a new singer there, a girl with a beautiful voice and a beautiful smile, even Daryl can see it. Little does he know, he’s going to meet her again at the woods soon. This was a request but it got out of hand.

Daryl’s POV. Teen Daryl.Pre-apocalypse. Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

3316 words

Chapters: 7/8

Link to masterlist with more  chapters and works is in the info of this blog.

I can’t believe this fic ends next week :( I hope you’re enjoying it :(

***Also I’ve been reblogging a lot of young Norman pics to get in the mood for teen Daryl, if you want to check it! Some of them are really how I imagine him in this story: twdeadfanfic.tumblr.com/tagged/tftbym ***

Last chapter…one of Merle’s friend tried to hurt Y/N at the outside of the club but Daryl was there to stop him, and thankfully Merle was there to help his brother out of the fight. He got hurt though, and Y/N asked him to get into her home so she could help him...

Can you believe there’s only a chapter left?

.................................................................................................................

“I’m sorry, it’s a mess.” Y/N apologized, embarrassed, as she opened the door of her flat and walked him inside.

Daryl looked around at the tiny apartment but there was nothing that was Y/N’s, which he knew it was normal since she’d had to leave most of her stuff behind when she left her old house. There was only a small room, besides the tiny bathroom that he could see through a half-closed door, with a small kitchen at one side of the room and a sofa that had been pulled out as a bed at the other side. In the middle of the room was a table with some books, the only thing in the flat that were truly Y/N’s.

Y/N walked him to the bed, pushing him down to sit on it and Daryl was flustered, something twirling inside his belly at being sat down on her bed, but he tried to ignore it.

“Wait a second.”

Y/N went to the bathroom, coming back with some disinfectant, gauze pads, and a washcloth. She dropped it all onto the bed and made for the kitchen, and Daryl watched her as he filled a bowl with warm water before making his way back to him. She knelt down next to him and dipped the washcloth into the warm water.

“Thanks.” He told her quietly.

“Don’t thank me, you ended up like this because of me.” Y/N berated herself.

“No, it wasn’t your fault, I told you.”

Y/N just shrugged and began to carefully wash the blood off his face. It hurt and he knew there must be quite a few bruises forming, but Daryl tried to keep it down, knowing Y/N was worried. Still, when she began to carefully dab disinfectant into the wounds on his lip, his eyebrow, one of his cheekbones, he couldn’t help but wince.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispered, biting her lip.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not…” She trailed her fingers over his cheek ever so slightly and Daryl closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.  It hurt, but it felt so good too. “I hope nothing of this needs stitches…”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Daryl opened his eyes when he noticed her pulling back and he watched her as she went to the kitchen to rummage into the freezer, and then she wrapped some ice-cubes with a cloth. She knelt down next to him again and pressed the cloth to his swollen eye. Daryl hissed in pain, couldn’t help it, and Y/N winced, opening her mouth as if to apologize again, but he didn’t let her.

“No, stop. It wasn’t your fault.” He tried to assure her again and Y/N said nothing, just looked at him with sad eyes that he hated.

“I know you didn’t want your brother or anyone knowing that we’re friends. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, nah, I don’t care.” They could talk all they wanted, as long as they left Y/N alone. “Besides, now they know to better not try to hurt you.”

He wasn’t too sure of that, though, if Merle hadn’t shown up then Daryl wasn’t sure he could have come on top of the fight, but at least now he was more or less sure John wouldn’t try anything again, and he hoped none else would try to mess with Y/N if now they knew he was going to stand for her. At least, he hoped it helped Y/N feel safer, even though she’d kind of seen him get beaten by the guy he was trying to protect her from. Shame knotted his stomach, but the way in which Y/N was looking at him helped him feel a bit better.

“Have I told you how amazing you are? I don’t think you know how much.” She told him quietly and Daryl blushed, couldn’t help it, and he scoffed. “No, don’t do that.” She chided him. “You are. You are the best.” The way in which she spoke and looked at him was almost enough to have Daryl believing her words, but not quite. He was grateful nonetheless, but he couldn’t find words to say it.

“When that prick said that shit about you…I wanted to punch him, or stab him, or something.” Y/N grumbled, her eyes lighting with anger, and Daryl felt again that rush of warmth and affection as he could see once again how she really cared that much for him. He remembered how she’d tried to go for John as he scorned him, no matter she’d been scared.

“Thank you.” He whispered, he didn’t know how to tell her how much all that meant to him, how he was feeling, how she made him feel.

“No, thank you. If you hadn’t been there…” She shuddered.

“No, don’t think about that.” Daryl placed his hand on top of the one that was holding the cloth to his eye, and she gave him a weak smile.

The ice cubs began to melt and Y/N pulled back the cloth, using a dry end to wipe the moist from Daryl’s face, and he tried not to wince again. She dropped the cloth and everything else onto the floor and turned to look at him again. She caressed his face with her fingertips again, ever so slightly so as not to hurt him, and when she ran his fingers through his hair Daryl couldn’t stop his eyes from closing as he almost purred.

He felt her lips kissing his cheekbone softly, under his swollen eye, and then on his forehead, above his split eyebrow, before she rested her forehead against his softly, and Daryl was once again overwhelmed by those warm feelings.

Daryl opened his eyes when Y/N pulled away to find her looking at him in a way that almost took his breath away, and he wondered if Y/N could see in his eyes the affection he saw in hers. It’d be so easy, to lean in and kiss her that Daryl almost gave in. He pulled back, taking a deep breath, trying to get a hold of himself and pull away from the atmosphere that had been created between Y/N and him.

“Are you hurt?” He rasped. Y/N seemed mostly fine, but Daryl wanted to make sure.

“No, I’m okay.” Y/N answered but Daryl lifted his eyebrows at her, wanting to be sure. “Nothing worse than a couple of bruises.”

“Let me see.” He asked softly and Y/N seemed hesitant but then she took off the shirt she wore over her tank top.

One of her arms had some scrapes and bruises from when she’d felt to the ground, and both arms had more bruises from John’s hands as he grabbed her hard. Her wrist was bruised and swollen from when John’d squeezed it until he made her drop the knife. Daryl felt anger rising inside him again but he tried to control it.

Daryl took the bowl of water and the washcloth and began to wash the scrapes of her arm gently, and also some that he found on one of her hands too, and then he carefully dabbed disinfectant on them, flinching every time Y/N winced.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, and before Daryl could say anything, she’d wrapped her arms around him, holding him carefully as if she was afraid of hurting him. Daryl knew he’d more bruises under his clothes, it hurt when he breathed deep, but he didn’t care about it as he held Y/N to him. “It was my lucky day when I met you.”

It’d been Daryl’s too, he was sure, but he couldn’t get himself to tell her, just the same that he couldn’t get himself to explain to her how much she meant to him. He just didn’t know how to, couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find his voice, nerves getting the best of him every time he considered trying. He just hoped she knew anyway.

Y/N pulled away, looking at him intently, reaching out to gently caress his less bruised cheek before cupping it and leaning in. Daryl knew what was coming but he couldn’t get himself to say anything, to stop it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.  Y/N’s lips met his, tentatively, and Daryl’s felt as if his heart stopped before it started beating so fast that it felt like bursting out of his chest.

The wound of his lip hurt as her lips brushed his softly but Daryl couldn’t care, he barely felt it, one of his hand moving to her neck on its own accord, fingers tangling into her hair as Y/N kissed him again and again. It was wrong, he knew it. He’d told himself it couldn’t be, it couldn’t happen, it was for the best. He tried to remember it. It’d just make everything hurt more. It was like he didn’t care, though, unable to not kiss her back.

“Stop.” He whispered against her lips, but he didn’t pull back, couldn’t.

Y/N did, though, stopping when he asked her to, pulling back and looking at him confused. Daryl swallowed hard, trying to recover his breath, trying to think clearly again.

“Daryl?” She called for him and he could only shake his head, not trusting his voice, not sure about what he wanted to say. “Sorry…I thought…I’m sorry.” Y/N shifted away from him, seeming embarrassed and sad, and Daryl felt bad thinking she thought she didn’t like her like that, no matter he knew it was for the best.

 “We can’t. You’re leaving.” He tried to explain, hoping she’d understand without him needing to tell her how it’d tear his heart apart if she left after he’d gotten to kiss her, to be with her like that. It hurt enough as it was, a lump knotting his throat every time he thought about the day Y/N’d leave.

“What if I don’t?” She retorted.

It took Daryl aback and he started at Y/N, considering her words. It was crazy to think that she might consider to stay and be with him, but it seemed it was what she meant. It made him want to tell her to not leave, to stay with him, but he knew he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair for her.

That day had just proven again why Y/N’d wanted to leave, Daryl didn’t want her to go through something like that again. Even when she managed to leave that club, Daryl knew people’d keep gossiping bullshit about her, and how it affected her more than what she wanted to admit. Besides, in that town she couldn’t have the life she wanted.

Like Y/N, most people that wanted to make something with their life left that place. It wasn’t fair to ask her to stay when he knew she’d have a better chance at the city, she’d be happier there, she’d have a better life. He knew she would. At the very least, way better than the one she could have in that town that she resented.

He loved her, he couldn’t ask her to stay stuck in a place she hated, having a dull life, giving up everything he knew she could achieve at the city, only so she could be with him. She’d realize it, sooner or later, even if she stayed, and then she’d leave him anyway.

It couldn’t be. Daryl didn’t know how to tell her all that, though, how to make her see. It was hard enough to convince himself of it.

“You’re leaving.” It was the only thing he could say. It was true, it was a fact, and it was what he knew she needed to do, no matter how his body screamed at him to just shut up and kiss her again.

“Okay.” Y/N nodded, looking down, shifting further away from him, and Daryl felt like someone punched his stomach when he noticed her eyes getting wet. He didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t meant to make her cry.

Y/N noticed him looking at her anxiously and she rubbed her eyes. “Shit…sorry…just…” She took a long breath, trying to get a hold of herself, and Daryl felt like crying himself looking at her in distress. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it softly, and Y/N seemed a bit surprised but she squeezed it back. “Just…it’s been a long day.”

Daryl nodded. “You have to get some rest, I’ll leave so you can sleep.” He tried to get up but Y/N didn’t let go of his hand, holding it tighter.

“No, wait, wait…stay for a little bit longer please?” Her wet, sad eyes begged him and Daryl couldn’t say no, nodding and settling down beside her again.

Y/N pulled at the hand she was holding until she made him wrap his arm around her and she looked at him, seeming hesitant and doubtful so Daryl tightened his arm around her to show her it was okay. Y/N smiled sadly and shifted closer to him, snuggling against his chest and tucking her head under his chin.

She didn’t say anything and neither did Daryl, overwhelmed once again by the feelings that holding her like that gave him. He wrapped his other arm around her too, holding her to him, and he ran his knuckles up and down her arm softly. He felt her relax on his arms until eventually, she fell asleep.

Daryl didn’t move, holding her for a little while as she slept, but eventually he shifted to lie her down on the bed, resting her head on the pillow and shifting the sheets to cover her. Y/N stirred, trying to blink her sleepy eyes awake.

“Stay…” She murmured, trying to take his hand again, but Daryl regretfully pulled away. The temptation to curl himself around her and hold her while she slept was too big, and Daryl knew that if he gave in, there was no way he could tear himself away from her after it.

“Sleep.” He whispered, kissing her forehead and loving too much the small, sweet smile that tugged at Y/N’s lips at that. She was still half asleep, and so thankfully soon she was asleep again.

With a last glance at Y/N, Daryl left her place and just spent the next hours wandering through the town, not wanting to face Merle, lost in his thoughts.

*

During the next days, nobody bothered Y/N again. Daryl didn’t knew if it was because they saw him waiting for her outside the club, or if people knew about his fight with John and maybe they thought he’d some kind of claim over Y/N, which Daryl wasn’t sure how it made him feel, or if maybe they knew about Merle’s threat to John and didn’t want to risk it.

Whatever it was, Daryl was grateful for it.

The only downside was Merle continuously teasing and asking him about Y/N, to which Daryl never replied. He knew Merle taunted Y/N too whenever he went to the club, but she hadn’t given him many details, and Daryl wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know the stuff his brother said or not.

Sometimes he wondered about going to the club, just to see it by himself, but he didn’t look forward to going in there again, and he didn’t feel comfortable with it. Y/N didn’t seem to like the idea of him going either, as if it embarrassed her somehow, and so Daryl never did.

He didn’t hide anymore when he walked Y/N to the club or went to pick her up, walking her to the door and then coming back to wait for her outside, wanting to be sure everybody could see she wasn’t alone.

Practically every late afternoon, they would meet at the woods, and then they’d eat together before she had to go work. Daryl always walked her to the club, she now got ready there instead of at home, and then he usually went to pick her up on his bike. Sometimes he felt like walking her home instead of riding, so they could spend a little bit more of time together, just walking and talking, and so sometimes he ditched the bike and just walked her home, which Y/N didn’t seem to mind at all. Somehow, whenever he walked her home, his arm would find his way around her shoulders, he couldn’t help it, and Y/N didn’t seem to mind that either, always snuggling to his side.

Neither of them had talked about the kiss they had shared, but Daryl had noticed some subtle changes in their relationship, in the way they behaved with each other, something that didn’t seem either of them could stop, but that was never acknowledged. It was his arm around her shoulders when he picked her up at the club and they walked at night. Or his hand at the small of her back when they walked through the woods. It was Y/N holding his hand when they sat down on the woods, talking and talking. Or the way in which she held him a little bit more tight than what was necessary when she rode behind him on his bike. Or how she hugged him and kissed his cheek whenever he dropped her at the club or at her place.

Daryl knew Y/N could see it too, but neither of them talked about it. Daryl tried to tell himself it was for the best. It wasn’t that different from how they had behaved before, but it felt different now, there was something between them, Daryl didn’t know what, and it was driving both of them crazy but neither of them seemed to know how to stop it. It was that rush of electricity when they laced their fingers, or the flow of warm affection when they held each other. It was overwhelming and Daryl loved it as much as he hated it.

Daryl’s mind had wandered once again to it all as he walked to the woods, and he tried to push it all to the back of his mind again. He found himself sometimes wondering about it, about their relationship, when he and Y/N were together, and then Y/N would ask him what was he thinking and he’d get all flustered.

He walked into the clearing, the same as always since that first day they met, and he saw Y/N there sat down on a log. Even from afar he could see that something was wrong, she looked sad, he could read her good by now, and fear gripped him. Had someone done anything to her? Tried to? Maybe it had been just gossip?

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he rushed to her, and Y/N looked up seeming a bit startled, as if she’d been lost in thought.

“Hey, Daryl, hi.” Now that he was close, it was more obvious that she’d cried, and her voice sounded sad too. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“It is.” Daryl tried to keep his fear at bay but he didn’t know if he managed. “Tell me. Did someone do anything to you? Tried to? Did they tell you anything?”

“No, no, slow down. It’s nothing like that, nothing’s wrong.” Y/N reached out and took his hand, her thumb stroking over his knuckles as if trying to reassure him that everything was okay, but Daryl could still see there was something off with her.“ It’s just…my friend Nora called this morning. Her boss is going to hire someone, and you know Nora told her about me.” She took a long breath. “So I have a chance at getting the job, she’s offered it to me. All I have to do is go to the city and talk to her.”

Daryl tried to process Y/N words. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know what to think.  Y/N was leaving? He’d known, since that first day they met at the woods, that this day was coming, and still, he couldn’t believe it was going to happen.

.....

Oh well...

Next chapter it’s the last!

If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts on this. As always, thank you for your reads, likes, comments and reblogs, it means the world to me!

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

If you want to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know!

@momc95  @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727 @coffeebooksandfandom @crustyrose @checkintoreality @daddys-little-princess67 @sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking @coltcas @feartheendlesssummer @izumi37 @gruffle1 @cutiepiemimi13 @drina365 @kuolematkorjaavat @daeshaunex2 @twdeadlysins @stressed-lasagna @teenyforestfairy @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @nikkipea @crazycatladyalustriel@miniprz @wolfkg @paybackbarnes @haleypearce @nikki082489 @dotslabyrinth @mtngirlforever @superflannel @blckbuttler @deanervs   @linktheloveabledork @sourwolf-sterek32 @iminlokisarmysofi @traveleraroundsworld @deliciousassafrasssandwich @angelontheinside @friendly-black-cat @firehoopinmama @d0ntfitin @mblaqgi @lxdyred @a-dlv @elysijin @gabriels-pornstashe @marie-is-in-the-dark @lonewolf471 @hedakylo @wnygirl2012 @j-a-val @gabidarkage @dashesoflipstick @hopplessdreamer @of-storms-and-sadness @angelophany @million-dollar-milkshake @daryldixonandfrogs @easnuppa @art-flirt

[parf-fan]

Unsolicited and incomplete list of highlights from Improv Technology’s May 23rd show

In little-to-no particular order.

“I thought we weren’t doing a musical”

Alexis transforming herself into Don Alonso.

Davis Handle

Michael Stahler doing a live Animal Planet special with Hoagie and Milo.

“Which Brady Bunch am I??”

Jonathan's entire hotel experience.

“I wanna be entirely clear, visible, vulnerable, perhaps supple, and maybe even emotionally contemplative with the press.”

Alex's face immediately after Chat Roulette.

Alexis loudly bursting into a vaguely Scottishy-piratey accent.

Michael getting to do a quick science talk during Objection.

Jonathan's ASMR persona stabbing themself in the eye with their glasses.

Joe's genuinely brilliant hosting.

“Who among us has not slapped through Jonathan before?”

Most likely to start an improv show eight minutes late.

“What number show is this for you guys?”

“I can hear you as clearly as I can hear your sins!”

“We doin' a show y'all?”

“I will say that my dog just leaped off of an— anyway.”

“Holy bananas.”

“No. This is just a personal Alexis-to-Jonathan threat.”

Michael trying to start a joke three times in One-Eighty-Five before managing it.

Michael's video freezing in the middle of the joke.

Michael patterspeaking to make up for it.

Alex in Press Conference as Batman changing his superhero name to Bearman.

Everybody's reactions to hearing that prompt.

This is the second time Alex has been Batman in an Improv Technology show.

the crimes that you kermitted

“You the bitch Satan lookin' for.” “I am the bitch Satan's looking for!”

Katelyn tapping on Weston

“Yo, you were just possessed there for a moment, that was beautiful.”

The gross Zoom incompetency of this show.  Literally, I was crying from laughter.  This must be what Disasterpiece is like in-universe.

“...facebook dot com, you know, the website?”

“Not you, though.  You are the worst child I've ever read to.”

Joe's description of Alexis completely fitting Michael, too.

“ComPLaINtS??? WE've gotten WRitTeN COmpLAiNts!!!!”

“Church had gotten boring.”

“In honor of Adam Shepley:” *dramatically opens carbonated drink*

“I have to stop a disaster, one second, my dog's about to jump on my cat, one second.”

Everybody's faces at that.

“Yeah, I can make up some references to a show I haven't seen.”

Alexis's little grin when Haley brings up otters.

Michael quietly threatening the audience to coerce them into donating.

“Mike, stop talking to them.” “I—I– I wasn't! I wasn't.”

Michael continuing to quietly threaten.

“Is the dog back? Are you okay?” “No, my family's at the door.”

“Christians are weird.”

The false start on Michael’s press conference

“What I sound like doesn't matter at all, and I've forgotten the accent since the last time I saw you.”

“Good Cop, Bad Cop; otherwise known as Here's A Glass Of Milk, Gimme That Glass Of Milk.”

Their faces at that.

An objection being called at that alternate name.

Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

“I'm.....Walt?”

grrrrounded

Arc Hamm

“Oh. Shocker.  Another play where half the cast is dead before the end of Act One.”

The beard reveal ™.

Jonathan's reaction.

Michael putting sunglasses atop his regular glasses to be the bad cop.

“Get the heckin' heck out of here!”

Michael's nyooming onscreen entrance as bad cop.

Ailey Karlson

Weston and Hoagie helping close out the show

“Uhh, guys?”

“Oh, huntey, you bein' hunted?”

nocableinmychildhood.com

Michael: *foghorn sounds* “Correct the record.”

“I am insulted at the idea that I am three times the size of Shrek.”

Alexis slipping up and dropping the f-bomb.

Michael Stahler (Horace Tanningrove) unveiling a beer.

Once Michael realizes that he's meant to be marketing beer, he starts sounding like a middle schooler writing an essay on a book he didn't read, and I think that's beautiful.

“I guess Jeff is definitely gonna have to control this game.”

“Let's see what Christian Mingle in this part of Georgia has to offer.”

Michael pulling a hairbrush out of nowhere as a visual aid

“Remember CD-roms?”

Michael: “You [Haley and Alexis] are better at facial hair than I am!”

“So you hiding from Satan and looking for vampires?” “Yes.” “Girl, you need help.”

Alex breaking the fourth wall to tell all men to get rid of cargo pants, and Michael promptly standing up and grabbing a pair of cargo pants from off camera to throw them somewhere else off camera.

Joe's absurdly beautiful origin story.

“ 'Aye aye Captain' is damn right.”

Michael quickly starting to analyze everybody's facial/skeletal structures before remembering that Alex literally played a snake.

Michael himself then briefly becoming a snek.

Alex saying his address over the internet while Alexis hastily tries to prevent it.

Jonathan apparently not having writing implements at the beach?

“I could honestly watch this for the full hour.” “I could not. Please.”

“That would've been a good one, but no.”

“Are you colourblind?” “Yes.”

“Can I let my cat out of the room?”

“Please donate to our Venmo so we can take improv classes.”

“Children can't drink beer.” “Not with that attitude, they can't.”

Porous Tanningrove

“Thought has occurred.”

“Well at least I can drink my name-brand soda without having to hide it.”

“Also here, my little sister, in some cases, not really, she's not adopted, we just say things sometimes.”

“Objection! As long as your cells are able to metastasize[?], you have a life.”

“Sshould I write any of that down?”

“I'm a sexy boi.” –Alexis, quite rightly

“How did you know how moist I was?”

Katelyn deadass namedropping her persona in Press Conference and not realizing that's who she is.

“Oh my god I almost lost my mother's place in a book!”

“I'm ready to get crusty with it. I regret saying that.”

“Why do you get so close to the screen”

“We stan David.”

Michael petting his dog while everyone else discusses the prompt.

“Are you a specific pirate?” “What?” “Are you specific?  Or AtlanticHAHAHA!”

Everybody hivemindedly putting on cockney accents of various degrees of dreadfulness upon hearing the phrase “a new brew” and just. not stopping.

Seriously, what was up with that, it was insane.

Hilarious, but insane.

Michael correcting Jonathan's misuse of “objective” vs. “subjective”.

Everybody's faces immediately after.

“Objection! I sent you a foot pic a mere two weeks ago.” “That's true.”

“Ah swear, Ah'll goe out an' find yer entire family and gut ye liyke a fish!”

Hoagie waving goodbye.

“Oh, if you look upon these, they're not just simply rubber ducks: one of them is wearing a leather harness.”

[221bshrlocked]

Guys My Age (5)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 5187

Warnings: Angst. Then needy smut since y’all seemed to like that shit as much as I love writing it.

A/N: Use protection homies. Better safe than surprised. Also, I uploaded it to AO3 with gifs since I am not allowed to use gifs on this website anymore cause tumblr has a stick up their ass. And hopefully it’s as good as the other chapters. 

Previous Part

You've accounted for everything when the day started. You've thought of the different ways Steve can find out about his birthday party. You've thought of so many excuses in case he figured out what you guys had planned. You've prepared everything for the surprise, even going as far as making sure Friday wouldn't give your plans away. You've made sure Tony wouldn't slip up by accident and mention something during your missions.

So yeah, you've definitely accounted for everything. Or so you thought. Too bad you didn't realize this until it was too late.

You were now dealing with the consequences of your, arguably good intentioned, actions.

Rewind to about 4 hours ago, you were on your way to the 50th floor with Steve, telling him that something was some debriefing with other agents that were not up to date with some protocols. When he kept on complaining about how these new agents should've done their jobs instead of being hand-fed the rules, you told him to deal with it and it was probably the last time.

As soon as he opened the door, screams erupted from everyone waiting for him, the look on his face priceless because it was totally worth it to yell at each person that almost told him by accident.

Quickly finding your spot next to Bucky, you kissed his cheek before wrapping your arm around him, his own keeping you as close to him as possible. Soon after, the party began, with Tony giving a stupid speech about the ups and downs of life, and teasing Steve about his suits while Steve retaliated and reminded him of the one time he had to help him out when his suit was stuck in the elevator of Buckingham Palace.

You've stayed next to Bucky the entire night, occasionally excusing yourself to get the two of you drinks or mingle with other people you knew. And whenever you took a little longer than usual, Bucky would shoot you a text asking where you were, replying to not take too long and return to him after you're done.

Smiling at the text, you sent him a quick kissy face emoji before returning to the bar and ordering drinks for you and Natasha. Grabbing the drinks, you turned around and crashed into someone immediately, the drinks spilling all over you and making you step back.

"Shit I'm so sorry I didn't see you there at all. Did anything c-" You froze as soon as you saw who it was, face contorting before you turned around and ordered the same drinks again, apologizing to the bartender and helping him clean up the mess.

"Now now, is that anyway to look at your favorite boyfriend?" You couldn't have snorted any louder at his comment, thanking the bartender before walking around this excuse of a man. Not bothering to reply, you continued walking, trying to look for Natasha.

"Come on Y/N, you can't expect me to believe you've forgotten about me." You remained silent, setting down the drinks at a table before texting her real quick. When he grabbed your arm to get your attention, you stopped moving and stared at him, your death stare making him smile at you.

"Now that I have your attention-"

"If you want to keep your arm, I suggest you let go of mine."

"Baby I specifically remember you liking it when I get a little rough." He chuckled, hands still on your arm and beginning to grip it tighter.

"You have about 10 more seconds before I break it so don't say I didn't warn you."

"Do you really think I'm going to believe those little charades with that dick face. I know you miss me sweetheart. I know what you like and what you don't like. I can play your body like a fucking violin and make you cum with one look-" You cut him off once again.

"Please did you really think I ever came when we had sex? That was me trying not to make you feel bad about your tiny dick, which I assume your new girl toy figured was useless since you couldn't even fucking use it."

That seemed to do the trick, but as soon as he let go of your arm, his fingers wrapped around your neck, slamming you hard against the wall before staring at you.

"Listen here you cock slut, I can make a scene or we can go back to my place quietly. If you don’t, I'll send your brain-washed boyfriend the sweet little pics you sent me when we were together…maybe you'll come back to me then when he breaks up with you." You were about to kick him when someone grabbed him by his hair and pulled him away.

"Listen here sweetheart," Natasha imitated him, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't hear but when he looked like he'd seen a ghost, you knew it wasn't something friendly. He walked away without turning back, leaving you and Natasha exchanging a silent conversation before returning to your group.

The problem was, even when you tried to brush the little exchange aside, smiling and laughing like you always do, Bucky sensed something was off. He didn't want to press you on it, knowing you'll probably just tell him later. As the party went into full swing, Bucky asked you to dance with him, his arms wrapped around your form the entire time and keeping you flush to him. He whispered many things in your ears, from the funniest jokes he heard to the filthiest lines that made you squirm in his arms.

But even though you laughed and sighed against him, he knew whatever happened must've been a little worse than he thought.

"Wanna get some air for a bit?" He asked, taking your hands when you nodded quietly before looking everywhere else but him. When he finally had you for himself, he stepped a little closer, arms cornering you against the railing when you kept on staring out to the city and not at him.

"Baby what's wrong?" Bucky truly didn't want to ask but he had a feeling that you might not tell him as he thought.

"N-nothing." Shit, you loved his sense of intuition so much but right at this moment, it was a curse.

"It's not nothing darling I know you. Somethin' happened. Please, let me help you. What happened?" Bucky cooed against your shoulder, kissing your neck before resting his hands on your stomach. Knowing you weren't going to talk like this, he did the only thing he knew would get you to open up. At times like this, getting a little handsy with you was what did it.

Reaching with his metal fingers, he was about to wrap them lightly against your neck when you flinched and let out a sob.

Something changed in the atmosphere at this moment.

Bucky stepped away in an instant, fear washing over him as he took in what just happened. You turned around as soon as you didn't feel his heat any longer, looking up at him and breath hitching when you saw the way he was gazing at you.

"James wait-" Before you could say anything, Bucky was sprinting back into the room, completely ignoring you. By the time you came back to yourself, you were running around trying to find him when you were grabbed and thrown into a room.

"Didn't I say you should come with me quietly?" Your asshole of an ex was about to kick you when you got out the knife in your holster and stabbed his shoulder, his agonizing scream making you just a little happier.

"Son of a bitch. Look what you made me do! Now he thinks I'm afraid of him." He was about to ask you what you meant when you sank the knife deeper in his muscles, his pleas bringing Steve and Sam rushing into the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sam asked before looking down and seeing the man crying on the floor. You told them what happened earlier quickly, telling them you needed to find Bucky as soon as possible.

"Y/N just calm down-"

"I'm not going to fucking calm down Rogers. He thinks I'm afraid of him. Do you know how fucking hard it was to get him to finally trust himself. A long ass time. And now this asshat ruined everything." You started heaving, afraid it was all over with Bucky.

"Buck WAIT-" Those two words were the only warning you got right before you heard the familiar sound of metal plates shifting followed by an even louder scream. You turned around and saw Bucky holding your ex against the wall by his neck, his other hand grabbing the knife and violently taking it out before holding his other hand against the wound.

"Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t snap your neck right now." The man looked like he'd seen the devil in front of him, begging Bucky to not kill him and apologizing to you. You knew Bucky would never kill him but the look in his eyes made you doubt yourself a bit.

"James sweetheart listen to me. He's not worth it. Please. Baby he's nothing. Let's just leave. Come with me Bucky please…please." He still wasn't listening to you, wanting nothing more than to hurt the man in front of him.

"Buck listen to her." Steve stepped through and placed his hand on his shoulder, the action calming him down and making him retract his hold on the man before turning around and looking at you.

For the second time that night, Bucky wished he didn't see you looking at him like this. As if he was an unhinged animal.

And for the second time that night, you had to watch him walk away without so much as a word to you. Turning to Steve, you told him you were going to deal with him before running after Bucky. By the time you caught up to him, he was already in the elevator, not bothering to hold it open for you and hissing when you made it just in time.

"What the hell was that?" You didn't mean to sound angry but you were afraid it would have gone further. When Bucky said nothing, you pushed his shoulder, heart rate increasing when he didn't bother trying to tell you to stop. His back hit the wall, hands grasping the railing so hard it bent under him. When he finally did look at you, your heart broke, the defeated expression he held making you wish you let him have his way with your ex.

"You…why didn't you tell me? I, fuck this was a bad idea…I knew this would happen." He whispered to himself, looking to the increasing numbers on the elevator and wishing it would just let him out already. "You knew what would happen? How many times do I have to tell you, I am not afraid of you. I never was and I never will be." You sounded hurt, trying to see if there was any way you could get this message across.

"Oh yeah, well why did you pull away?" Bucky knew the answer but he didn't want to believe it. Some part of him thought he was the guilty one.

"BECAUSE THAT ASSHOLE ALMOST KILLED ME MINUTES BEFORE! IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT! I WAS JUST REACTING TO THE MOTION JAMES NOT TO YOU. I mean for fuck’s sake, I told you I know you’d never hurt me." Your anger seeped through, arms pushing him again before continuing your attack on his shoulders. Bucky didn't bother to try and stop you, almost crying along with you.

"You- you're lying." He sounded broken and you wished you could take back the last hour.

"I would never lie to you James and you fucking know this. And if we're talking about shit that I knew would happen, what was that? Every single time we see him, you manage to keep it together. What the fuck was that huh? Do you have any idea what he's going to say now? They…they might take you from me. I- shit, James I don't know what I'd do if he pressed charges." Panic was evident in your voice, making Bucky scrunch his face and yell back.

"I DID THAT BECAUSE HE SHOULDN’T HAVE LAID A FINGER ON YOU. I DID THAT BECAUSE I PROMISED YOU I WOULD NEVER LET ANYONE HURT YOU AND I COULDN'T KEEP THAT FUCKING PROMISE." The elevator dinged, Bucky watching you walk out first before letting out a laugh.

"Oh yeah because you have to be James Barnes, the man who saves the damsel in distress whenever he could. Unfuckingbelievable." You headed towards the stairs, throwing your bag on the couch and beginning your ascent to your room when you felt a pair of hands wrapping around your waist and pushing your face against the wall.

"Do you wanna say that again to my face sweetheart? Cause the last time I checked, you had no fucking problem with me doing just that every time he pissed you off. Or are you forgetting now?" Bucky whispered in your ear, stopping your oncoming remark with a bite to your neck. You hated the effect he had on you but you couldn't hold back the groan bubbling its way through your lips. “Isn’t that right doll? You fucking love it when I show him who you belong to don’t you? In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me that turned you on.” When you whimpered in his arms, he laughed, his hands roaming your body before grabbing you roughly just like you wanted.

“There she is. My pretty doll loves it when I mark her...you live for it Y/N and don’t fucking deny it cause I know. I know how you like it...how you love it when I make you mine every fuckin’ night. You love it when I fuck this tight cunt, makes you wet every time I fuck you with these.” He made sure you knew what he was referring to, grasping you through your clothes with his metal fingers and rubbing your pussy as hard as he could until you melted in his arms.

“B-bucky…” You sighed when he kissed your neck, moaning when you didn’t feel him against you anymore. You turned around in time to see him taking his clothes off and you tried to face him but he combed his hands through your hair before pulling harshly on it and pushing you down against the table near the stairs. You swore from how angry he was and he mocked you again right before spanking your ass.

“Baby I told you...can’t fucking lie to me. Your body speaks for you dollface,” He practically ripped the jacket off of you, not bothering to unzip your pants before pulling them as aggressively as he could down your legs. “Fuck me…” You tried to look back at him but he didn’t give you a chance, his hands going through your panties before pulling on them, the sound of fabric snapping once again turning you on more than it should.

“That’s right baby, you’re fucking mine. Mine. I own this pussy. I own this fucking body...your soul is mine Y/N.” You knew he was saying those things out loud more for himself than to you. His insecurities were shedding off of him like hair from a dog and you wanted nothing more than to hug him and tell him he has nothing to worry about. But he needed this. You both needed this. He needed to know he was in charge and he needed to understand you weren’t going anywhere.

So when you heard him unzipping his pants, you braced yourself for the onslaught that was to come. His cock went in with ease and you laughed because he wasn’t wrong. You loved seeing him asserting his dominance, some weird part of you loving it when he made it clear you were his and he was yours. Like the two of you were a pair of fucking animals that bonded for life. “Fuck babygirl, always so tight for me...so hot and wet squeezin the shit outta my cock doll fuck-” He rested his head against your back, sighing and telling you he could die in between your legs.

You held him onto him, hands scratching the arms around your waist and telling him you loved him. “Harder Buck...fuck me, god yes yes wanna feel your cock for days baby harder, fuck me harder please...let me feel you James shit shit.” He bit your shoulder again and you screamed from the pleasure you felt through the pain, biting your lips and telling him you loved it when he was rough.

“Take what you want James...take everything you want, I fucking love it. Love you so much baby fuck you’re so hard yes. Yes!” You continued to encourage him, knowing he needed to hear you now more than ever. You held back the tears waiting to roll down your cheeks, a part of you feeling he might misunderstand and stop, which was the last thing you’d want. His hands moved every second all over your body, wanting to touch you everywhere all at once and keep you as close to him as possible. He knew he should stop and just talk through this but he could do that later. Right now, all he wished was to bury himself so deep inside you until he couldn’t think of anything else other than your pussy clenching hard around him.

You managed to turn your face, wanting to look at his wrecked face as he fucked inside of you over and over again. He wrapped an arm around your chest, pinching and cupping your nipples until you were screaming his name alone. He switched to Romanian and you managed to understand a few words, ones he happened to whisper on your skin every night he fucked you. You told him you loved it when he dirty talked in other languages even though you understood nothing. But there was something special about the Romanian that made your skin flush.

But no matter how much you told him, he didn’t go near your neck. You grabbed for his metal hand and tried to place it around your neck but he refused and pushed your face down further, silently telling you to not ask him again.

“Love you so much doll face, so fucking much. Shit baby you’re always so good for me, your cunt was made for me darlin’, made for my cock. Wanna worship you every minute of every fucking day sweetheart Jesus ffffuck-” He grabbed your forehead and pulled it back, licking and biting the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and leaving wet kisses on every inch of your exposed skin.

“That’s it Y/N, so good for me dollface. Gonna make you cum so hard you only think of me and no one else. No man else. God you’re so good to me tonight...I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry baby I love you.” You were suddenly aware of how scared he was, and cried as soon as you heard his apologies.

“I love you James, love you so much. I- you’re everything to me. Shit ‘m close baby, don’t stop Buck please. Need your cum baby...cum for me, cum inside me James please. Fuck please yes yes,” you went almost hysterical with every second you felt his cock dragging against your wet pussy, legs giving out on you and holding onto his arm so you didn’t fall. “Who do you belong to pretty baby? Who fucking owns this pussy? Hmm, shit baby I’m gonna cum fuck fuck r-right there fffffuck-” He screamed his release against your back, biting down on the flesh until he felt your walls fluttering around his hard cock. When you cried out with him, he immediately lowered his hand, rubbing your clit so hard you felt the blood rushing to every vein in your body.

You tried to hold his hand to make him stop but he didn’t care, slapping your pussy as he came in hot spurts inside you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm and telling you he’s not even close to finishing with you yet.

You fell on the table in front of you, nails digging into his arms until you felt his cock slip out and you squirting all over his pants. He continued to rub your wet pussy, chuckling against your shoulder when you actually started crying from how sensitive you were.

“Such a pretty sight, all for me. So fucking wet for me baby girl shit. So pretty.” He finally stopped when he felt you slipping down against him, unable to keep yourself standing any longer. The two of you were heaving, and Bucky wrapped his arms around you, carrying you up the stairs to your room before laying you on the bed as slowly as possible. He saw your legs still shaking from the intense orgasms he, quite literally, forced out of you. He should’ve felt bad for how wrecked you looked but he was proud that he was the only one that could make you feel this way.

Pulling down his pants, he threw his clothes away and stepped between your legs, stripping you of your clothes and apologizing when his hands touched your thighs. You’ve never come this hard in your life and were hyper-aware of every small touch on your heated skin. Laying next to you, he pulled the covers over the two of you and sighed when you scooted as close to him as possible. He kissed your forehead and apologized one more time before drifting off to sleep.

Hours later, you woke up to something soft and wet around your nipples, eyes opening slowly and looking down only to see Bucky licking and cupping your breasts, a devilish smile gracing his handsome features before he bit down hard and continued to tease you.

“Ahh god yes sir…” You sighed, voice hoarse both screaming and sleeping.

“Naughty little girl, waking me up with this cute little ass of yours rubbing my dick...you having a sex dream about me baby?” Bucky asked, once again rubbing his beard against your nipples and making you arch your back against him. You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling on it until he growled against your skin. You couldn’t take it any longer, begging him to stop teasing and finish off what he started.

“But you’ve been a bad girl doll face...god damn you’re soft,” he drew circles around them, watching each one pebble and harden between his fingers. “Your body’s so ready for me isn’t it darlin?” Bucky looked up and saw you staring right at him, lips lower lip between your teeth and eyes begging him to do something more.

“Always,” you whispered, hoping he’d know what you’ve been trying to tell him all night long. He laughed and shook his head, descending down your body and mapping your exposed skin with as many kisses as possible. As soon as he tapped on your thighs, you opened them for him, goosebumps slowly making an appearance on your skin because of the way he was looking at your pussy.

“Fuck Y/N...your cunt looks so pretty, just wanna devour you baby,” he didn’t waste any more time, raising one leg high above his head before licking a long stripe across your pussy. Your hips bucked involuntarily and he slapped your inner thigh, telling you to behave so he didn’t have to punish you.

“Yes sir..sorry sir,” you sighed, telling him to keep rubbing his beard against your thigh. “So fucking responsive from the smallest touches. Shit baby you’re my world, my fucking universe,” he took your clit between his lips, sucking so hard on the bundle of nerves until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm hit you without a warning and you came on his face, gushing and trying to push him away from you. Bucky didn’t give you a chance to pull away from him, metal hand ascending your body until it grabbed hold on one of your breasts and squeezing it tightly while holding your thighs near his face.

He didn’t stop for a second, wanting to make you cum one last time before giving you some time to rest. When your back arched until you sat up and ceased breathing, Bucky slowed down but not before giving you a quick kiss. You fell back down, grabbing your stomach and your neck to try and calm your heart rate. Bucky kissed his way up your body until he faced you. His eyes betrayed his thoughts, focusing on your throat and making you feel like shit all over again.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, hands reaching behind his neck and lowering him down until his lips met yours. “You know I’d never be scared of you right?” You asked, hoping he’d give you the answer you were hoping for.

When he said nothing, you shut your eyes and covered them, not wanting to ruin the moment but knowing there was no holding back the tears. “Buck I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I swear on my life it was because of that dickhead. Not you. Never you!” You hid behind your elbows, letting go of him and attempting to get out of bed.

He kept you between his arms and refused to let you go, pulling your arms down and holding you against him until you stopped crying.

“Okay.” He whispered into your ears and although it was such a small word, it meant the world to you.

“Please stop crying Y/N I can’t stand seeing you crying. Especially when it’s because of me. Please darling.” He took hold of your cheeks and placed your head against his chest. “Hear that sweetheart. I ain’t lying. I trust that you’re telling me the truth. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“No it’s not your fault. You don’t apologize Bucky. You never have to apologize to anyone.” You got a little angry when he tried to turn the tables and he laughed at how serious you became all of a sudden.

“I trust your love baby. I trust your love.” He pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, finally gaining some courage to wrap his metal fingers around your throat and massage the red bruises forming all around. He loved seeing the discoloration that formed on your skin but only when the two of you fucked the breath out of each other. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone else touching you and marking you. Leaning down, he left a small kiss on every inch of your neck, apologizing that he wasn’t there to stop him from grabbing you and wishing he was the one hurt instead.

You sighed with every pass of his soft lips over your flushed skin, pulling on his hair and wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer to you. When he took hold of your waist and turned you around so your back was against his chest, you threw your head back, hands slowly pumping his cock before raising your leg and resting it on his thigh.

He thrust in with ease, his hips bucking in and out of you before he wrapped his palm around your neck again. You looked into each other’s eyes, silently conveying your feelings before your mouths came together for a dizzying kiss.

You could feel his hold tighten around you and you loved it, holding onto the back of his neck to keep his as close to you as possible. No matter how many times he pleasured you, it always felt like the first time for the two of you.

Bucky moaned against you, wanting to say so many things but refusing to pull away from your lips. He told you on several occasions if he could spend the rest of his life kissing you, he would die a happy man. He held you against him, finding peace in feeling your skin sliding against him as he pleasured you. When he felt your nails digging into his back, he snapped his hips harshly, causing you to pull away from him and scream his name against his neck.

“Fuck James...that’s it baby, no one fucks me like you James, ahhhh ff-uck, this pussy is all yours fuck fuck all yours.” As soon as he lowered his hand and flicked your clit, your legs started shaking against him, cunt squeezing him so hard he couldn’t hold back anymore. Sitting up, he turned you until you were on your stomach, raising your hips and holding onto your waist before setting an ruthless pace. You could feel every thing that touched you, biting your pillow as you heard the sounds of his grunts and his skin slapping yours over and over again. This was the first time he said nothing. Instead, he just prayed your name and moaned, looking down and biting his lips as he saw you completely at his mercy.

“Love you...fuck fuck I love you so much doll, so much. My heart is yours baby, my fucking soul has your name written on it. Shit gaaahd fuck ‘m gonna cum darlin your cunt is so hot for me yes….sshit!” He fell on top of you, growling when you milked his cock of every last drop of his cum. You shuddered when you felt him spazzing inside you, loving the way his cock was never soft even after he took his pleasure numerous times during the night.

He didn’t bother to pull out, falling to the side and pulling you towards him. He kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you, telling you to rest because he was definitely going to wake you up again.

A distant ringing made you groan before attempting to stand up and look for the source of noise to stop it. You couldn’t move however, tapping on Bucky’s arm so he could let you go and laughing when he only tightened his arms around you.

“Noo.” He whined, making you laugh at how childish he was sometimes. When you told him you were just grabbing your phone, he managed to let go for a few seconds but kept his arms around some part of you. You unlocked it and saw a million messages from everyone on the team.

“Steve is asking if we’re okay.” You said it more like a question than a comment, wanting to make sure the two of you made up before you got out of your room. When he sleepily told you to tell Steve to ‘kindly fuck off with his righteous shield,’ you laughed and texted him that everything was fine.

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #162

Tanabata has come around once again to offer a generation of high schoolers some false hope in order to distract them from the cruel reality that is life. At least, that’s what the old Tomoko might’ve thought. While the world ultimately didn’t hand everything to her on a silver platter, Tomoko’s half-hearted hope did actually manifest into something she holds dear. The question now remains...

What does she strive for now?          

Chapter 162: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Make A Wish

“I wish that Watamote would get a 2nd season!”

Ahem...moving on.

Nothing like a little friendly brooding to start the day.

In a weird, ironic way, Yuri seems to empathize with Tomoko over mutual apathy. The one constant they share is that they both like to take the path of least resistance in life. While Yuri may be a little off the mark at times, having that unspoken bond is a great point to start from.

So we knew Nemo recognized that Tomoko was a former loner, but Yuri, too? Then again, it’s been hinted at before that Tomoko is kind of an open book and that the people around Tomoko are more perceptive of her than she’d like to believe. So yeah, Yuri knew Tomoko barely had friends before she met her (a fact that likely fuels her codependency tendencies). But like any good friend, Yuri stuck around despite that history.

Still can’t get over her casually calling her Yuri-chan.

For a hardcore introvert like Yuri, doing something for the sake of being social with no practical purpose seems illogical. It makes total sense that traditions like Tanabata aren’t really her cup of tea. Just how much Yuri is aware of that is still kind of fuzzy, but no less endearing, 

Reiterating a joke I made in the previous chapter, but Tomoko really ought to take a crash course in psychological projection.

Taking a stab at Yuri’s desires, now...I’d say it would be to have someone who really understands her. Or for Minami to lose her fang. Either or.

Wow, I wouldn’t have figured that Ucchi was the type to write in all caps.

I always wondered if the sugar-sweet and dragged-out way that moe anime girls yell “Senpaaai!” was actually grating by real-life Japanese standards. Looks like I was right.

Now those school fan clubs for the ridiculously attractive girl/guy that you sometimes see in manga are starting to feel pretty legit right now. 

“Pfft, basic bitches,” thought Tomoko. 

Smooth like butter.

You know, I think that Tomoko being unable to come up with something is a solid indication that she’s relatively satisfied with her life right now. Sure, she has career goals and whatnot, but she no longer feels troubled by material desires or short-term gratification. Like Yuri, it may be that Tomoko has more intangible, emotional desires that aren’t easy to put into words. But also like Yuri, Tomoko may have recently already gained that.

Occasionally–just occasionally–a few earnestly pure-of-heart moments from a cute manga girl is all you really need.

...Especially when it’s immediately offset by Tomoko being Tomoko.

Ohhhh, boy. That last comment by Tomoko is opening up all sorts of questions regarding her sexuality. I’ve mentioned before that Tomoko may be dealing with some sort of gender dysphoria and I think that’s becoming more apparent than ever. For one, her totally normal-not-at-all-creepy desire to NTR her kouhai assumes that only a guy could do that to Hirasawa. It also implies that Tomoko would only acknowledge liking girls if she identified as male. Not once did Tomoko consider that she, as a female, could NTR another female. All in all, there’s a bit of internalized homophobia, repressed sexuality, etc. at play here, and it’s going to take a bit of soul-searching for Tomoko to sort it all out.

Once every thousand years, we get some actual chibi art out of this series.

Bless you, Nico Tanigawa.

The best part of this Hirasawa-vision is that Tomoko is drawn exactly the same, just with lighter tones. Hirasawa’s not blind, just optimistic, which makes her heroine-worship so much more earnest.

Normally, super innocent girls like Hirasawa who get overly excited on trivial things tend to rub me the wrong way, mostly because I have a hard time thinking young girls are that simple-minded. But there’s something about Hirasawa that feels genuine. It may be because her excitement feels like its deriving from a sense of loneliness. Like an overreaction from latching onto any lure of female friendship. 

It’s also just cute.

Tomoko...I’m pretty sure that’s your confirmation bias talking right there.

We don’t even need to see anything above the waist, but you can tell exactly who this is based on context alone...

I was wondering how Ucchi actually manages to do that Darth Vader thing with her mouth...

...then I remembered how her face looks and it makes perfectly no sense.

Guys, I...I think Ucchi finally broke.

Actually, Miyazaki, it may not be phrased as a wish, but it definitely is a wish...

I really enjoy the little bits of characterization in everyone’s wishes. For Yuri and Tomoko, like the BFFs they are, they have the same, most basic wish since they don’t really have any other burning desires. It’s also short and sweet, and without any fluff, as they would normally be if speaking out loud. And lastly, Yuri doesn’t leave her last name, as if she doesn’t want to attach herself onto her wish that far. 

Katou, on the other hand, is all giddy and sweet, using words like “hope” and “together” when effectively making the same wish. She uses “we” without naming anyone, making it an all-inclusive wish. Just what you’d expect from the class mom.

Tomoko’s habit of “lying on reflex” actually makes a great deal of sense. She’s the type who has trouble expressing her vulnerabilities, and lying is a standard defense mechanism, just like Yuri’s noncommital attitude, Nemo’s passive aggression, and whatever Katou most certainly has.  

Oh, Yuri, you precious bean. I know jokes aren’t your forte, but your emotional responses–or lack thereof–makes for a great punchline.

Did ya’ll notice how Tomoko’s second wish is exactly what Imae wished for last year? Tomoko may not always make the best decisions when comes to carrying the torch of The Great Megumi Imae, but you can’t deny that she’s making a concerted effort.

Guess Tomoko isn’t the only one with enough nerve to turn a Tanabata wish into a dirty joke...

Damn, we all knew that Fuuka was getting an unhealthy fixation over Katou and Tomoko’s “secret” relationship, but never to the point where it was affecting her studies, and by extension, her after-high school prospects. It hints that the series may be taking this misunderstanding into a direction that’s not entirely played for gags. It’s a risky move because such a development could easily come across as contrived if taken seriously, but if they keep it character-driven a la Ucchi, it could make for some really engaging moments. 

C’mon, Fuuka. How did you think people were going to take that?

Of all of the people who’ve been “corrupted” by Tomoko, Fuuka may be taking the most damage out of all of them. Poor thing.   

Let’s see here...

Sometimes I worry about Itou’s sense of self when she always identifies herself by her relationships with others.

Yo, Komiyama doesn’t even bother mentioning the Lottes by name because “Who else of any importance could it possibly be?”. Never lose faith, Komi.

Sweet, naïve Mike. She (and her boyfriend who’s somehow still kicking) is set up to be this series’ greatest tragedy.

This is Tomoko Kuroki, everyone. The girl who can’t see the raging emoji-faced horndog right in front of her, but will misconstrue a single misunderstanding as a pervert. Selective perception, ain’t it?

Well, it is a great opportunity to anonymously judge people’s inner desires, so Tomoko’s probably right.

Here we go again...

Nice to see that Nemo has practical, but optimistic expectations for her goal. She knows that she’s in her prime and is ready to hit the ground running. 

The thing about Yoshida’s wish is that it implies that she knows she’ll be faced with resistance. Still, I gotta respect her individuality.

Okada’s wish feels like a cry for help if you look at it another way. That’s probably not the case, though. Probably.

That’s the beauty of it all, Tomoko. In the end, you really didn’t do anything. At least, not directly. What you did was make yourself into an example for Nemo to follow. One of Tomoko’s greatest attributes is that she’s unapologetically herself, which is how she eventually got noticed–and in Nemo’s case, admired–in the first place.   

Quakey legs + short people problems = cute Tomoko. 

Aw man, what I wouldn’t give for this to be a running gag. That in all those chapters where Tomoko was all alone, there was actually somebody she knows now that was in the scene, too. It (sort of) first happened with the dick-pics-in-class chapter and the three-legged race guy, after all. Poor Tomoko has all this baggage that can be used against her now.

For those with shitty memory like me...

“I want to lose my virginity in a year so I don’t lose track of my bigger goals.”

Of course, she’d forget about the part that actually mattered.

Well, you know, Tomoko, they do say that every joke/lie has a kernel of truth.

I noticed that a lot of (comedy) manga seems to like elevating the value of losing(or saving) one’s virginity to absurd levels, at least in the inexperienced minds of its teenaged male characters. Tomoko herself has perpetuated this notion in the past. But even so, the “in-universe” outside of Tomoko’s mind never really aggrandizes sex, and I find that it to be a very refreshing change that shows how, in reality, as Nemo suggests, losing your virginity isn’t really that big of a damn deal.  

Good ol’ Tomoko logic at its finest.

Nemo looks...surprisingly serious about that. Normally that kind of talk would catch her off guard a little, but she had no hesitation with that retort. I think that’s solid evidence that Nemo has done more research into the nature of the voice acting industry, especially after Tomoko unintentionally trolled her with that eroge. 

This could lead to even more intellectual (if not openly sexual) conversations between Tomoko and Nemo that go beyond their usual bantering. That’d be pretty lit. 

Well, if Tomoko is a direct reflection of the author, then she probably thinks light novels are mostly for loser otaku trying to live their perverted fantasies through self-insert literature (at least, what I gathered from Write Sisters).

Well, I’m be damned if that isn’t blatant foreshadowing for where Tomoko’s future is headed.

Even though I saw it coming a mile away, it still gives me the warm fuzzies.

As fantastic as it would be for Tomoko to be an accomplished light novelist with Nemo voicing a character in her anime adaptation, I feel like that level of success would be a little out of reach for this series’ approach to realism. 

If I were to look into the future, I’d say that Tomoko would write a light novel that’d be successful just enough to be greenlit for an ultimately mediocre anime adaptation. And Nemo, being a rookie, would either be not cast at all, or be given a bit part for a background character.

Of course, that’s all speculation. As Nemo says, the freedom to dream is the one thing we can count on. And if there’s one thing the mangaka has learned from doing this series, it’s that being realistic doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy ending. 

I guess being considerate/decent to complete strangers is still locked out of Tomoko’s comfort zone. 

I think we found a member of Rena’s family.

Man, the more we get these tidbits of Imae’s legacy affecting the school (and Tomoko), the more nostalgic I get for her. I sincerely hope we get to see her at least one last time before the series is over.

And in tried-and-true Watamote fashion, we get a little bit of Tomoko’s wisdom to end off another thought-provoking chapter.

In retrospect, there wasn’t a whole lot of “action” in this chapter that could be built upon later. It was mostly a series of gags sprinkled with some nice conversation (at least until Nemo’s part). One of the core themes that Nico Tanigawa seems to be playing with is, “Now that Tomoko has come this far, where does she go from here?” And the answer is...

They don’t know. 

Legitimately, I don’t think the mangakas know exactly what Tomoko’s endgame will be. Sure, they have some strong ideas in terms of school and career, but nothing definitive. As s result, I think playing with the gags and jokes a bit more is their way of “stirring the pot” and seeing what comes out. All of Watamote’s greatest developments did originate from comedy, after all. The first Tanabata chapter is a prime example of this, and I have no reason to think that the stars of the second Tanabata chapter won’t shine over Tomoko once again.

[shirtlesssammy]

9x22: Stairway to Heaven

Then:

Metatron!!!!

Now:

Dixon, MIssouri

A very particular mom orders ice cream for herself and then asks her son what he would like. He points to a girl eating a Ziggy Piggy all alone and wants that! She goes over to the girl to berate her not for eating something with a symbol of racism as decoration but for eating diabetes in a bowl. The girl says she’s an angel though and can do as she pleases. A man walks into the store--and pulls out an angel blade. The girl tells the woman to run as her eyes flash blue. Too late, the place disintegrates in a flash of white. 

Sam WInchester sleeps with his gun under his pillow in his own room. That breaks me a little. Dean, the Mark of Cain in full jerk mode, wakes him and even though they’ve only slept for two hours, wants to get going. 

Sam joins Dean in the library and Dean tells him that he talked to Cas and there’s something happening in Missouri. He couldn’t give details over the phone because (And mind you, Dean says this while looking wistfully upwards) “He’s a weird, dorky little guy.” smh. 

Dean grabs the First Blade and Sam questions whether it’s necessary. Dean insists they need it with them all the time if they’re going to take down Metatron. Sam thinks he should leave it in the bunker for this trip. Dean agrees. 

Once at the ice cream shop, the brothers learn their FBI covers are Agents Spears and Agulera. #BlessAndrewDabb. (Sidenote: I just LOVE Dean’s little plaid tie.) Cas is already inside. They meet up and Cas shows them a victim, eyes burned out. He doesn’t know what happened but six people died and one angel. Whatever Metatron is doing is abhorrent. 

Cut to Metatron trying on a trench coat in his headquarters. Someone knocks at the door and he quickly scrambles to take the coat off. 

Gadreel walks in. He wants to talk about their plans. Cas’s side of the war is winning. Metatron doesn’t understand why angels are choosing Cas over him when he can get them home. The Metatron admits THE TRUTH: He’s cute and he’s got charm. He counters that he --Metatron-- is lovable and funny, which gets an eyebrow lift from Gadreel. Oh Metatron, you’re the worst. Gadreel tells Metatron that they’re meeting with the last large faction of angels left. Metatron isn’t stressed, he has a plan! (It’s not the trench coat, no, nope)

At Trench Coat Headquarters, Cas introduces Dean and Sam to Hannah. There’s some light ‘he likes me better’ banter between Dean and Hannah. 

Hannah tells Cas an angel is missing. Josiah was a mole and now he’s gone. Dean and Sam set to tracking him. (Hannah’s little unimpressed attitude towards Dean is entertaining.) Two seconds later, Sam finds that his credit card was used at a Gas ‘n Sip in Colorado. Dean turns to Hannah and gets his ruler out to measure. 

Another angel has video of the ice cream shop attack. Just before the megasmiting, the angel, Orin, announced, “I do this for Castiel!” and stabs himself in the chest. Dean wants answers but Cas has no clue what that was. “I’m going to be sick.” Oh, bby. (Also, how is this not a reaction gif for fandom wank all the time?) In any event, Dean doesn’t seem to want to believe Cas, accusing him of running a cult and dredging up his little attempt at playing God back in the day. 

For I know Dean is Mad but This Sure Makes a Pretty Shot Science:

Interrupting Moose uses his powers for good and drags them into a private room to continue the conversation. 

Cas explains the Enochian sigil on the angel’s torso was something to draw energy and the stabbing unleashed that energy, atomizing the other angel. Dean tells Cas that he needs to stay back while the brothers investigate. Cas responds with a flat, defiant “No.” And let us never forget this dorky little guy is a BAMF. That prompts the plan of Cas and Sam heading to Colorado to find Josiah. 

On the road, Sam fills Cas in on what’s really been happening this season because Dean and Cas apparently only whisper sweet nothings and giggle on the phone.

Sam and Cas talk about how the Mark is changing Dean. Cas’s admission that Dean is “always a little angry” breaks me a little. 

Metatron is busy wooing angels at a bowling alley. They don’t want to go back to heaven. Life’s too good on earth. The smell of the bowling alley is enough to keep them here. (OMG and LOL) 

Metatron pulls out his blade. The angel laughs and tells him that if he dies, all his angels will side with Castiel. He’ll talk if Metatron out bowls him though. 

On the road, Sam and Cas have a lead on Josiah. 

Dean interviews other angels that knew Orin. One decides to poke the bear a bit, telling Dean that he doesn’t save lives. He forces her at the end of an angel blade to name names. One of them is Tessa. Yep, the reaper Tessa. 

Cas and Sam track Josiah’s car to a place that Cas can sense is radiating power. They try entering a door to a warehouse but Sam’s lock picking skills fail. Cas, ancient angel of infinite strength informs Sam that he’s “got this.” He slams the door a couple of times and tries the door, to no avail. “I don’t got this.” <Insert jensen with camera you’re doing amazing pic> 

Dean tracks down Tessa. And we learn that Dean Winchester likes Fiddler on the Roof. But really he’s wants to know what she thinks she’s doing. She tries walking away from him when he grabs her and sees something carved on her chest. He handcuffs her and demands she tell him where the other rogue angel, Constantine, is. 

Cut to the bowling alley, as Metatron huffs away from losing his game of bowling, an angel calls his name. It’s Constantine. “I do this for Castiel,” he announces and stabs himself. The world goes white. 

It’s now night and Sam and Cas are still trying to get into the warehouse. Cas reveals there’s a riddle in Enochian warding the place.

“Why is 6 afraid of 7? I assume because 7 is a prime number and prime numbers can be intimidating.” “It’s because 7 ate (8) 9,” Sam corrects, and the door opens. GOLD. Even more GOLD: Cas references Lord of the Rings. Yeah, Cas knows a thing about things now. 

Cas and Sam finally enter the building, walking through a shadowy concrete tunnel. Sam happens upon a message inscribed on the wall: “Only the penitent man shall pass.” Holy Indiana Jones, Batman! He shouts a warning to Cas, but Cas has already crouched below the whirling blades. (Thank god he’s pop culture saavy now. Pop culture saved his life! #Relatable)

Dean interrogates Tessa with Hannah lurking in the background. Tessa is adamant that she turned herself into a suicide bomber for Castiel - he assigned her that task, personally. Hannah is SHOOK.

Hannah wants to fight and Dean shoos her out the door to get her in line. They agree that Tessa believes what she’s saying. Yikes.

In the Raiders of the Lost Heaven, Cas strides towards a lit door at the end of the hallway and something in him seems to lighten and lift as he approaches it. It’s the door to Heaven! It’s calling him in. Cas approaches, ready to seize control of the door to Heaven. He opens the door and--

Soft music and valentine-hued rotating lights play across poor Castiel’s astonished face. The room is a total joke, set up like a party with little paper cupids and angels strung up alongside balloons and gold streamers. Fred Astaire croons “Cheek to Cheek” in the otherwise empty room. Sam finds a card addressed to Cas that reads: "Welcome to your own personal heaven, Castiel. Good luck finding the real one."

They discover a terribly burned body lying on the floor - an angel burned by holy oil. Sam looks up and spots a Home-Alone-style door mounted flame torch. Suddenly the body jumps and grabs Cas. He’s not dead yet! He says that Metatron promised that he could return home. But he’s not going with Cas now. He looks at Cas, and he doesn’t see an angel anymore. (Cas bby!)

Dean heads back in to talk to Tessa. He begs her for a reason for her actions. “I guess I just can’t take the screaming,” she says at last, her voice breaking. There are tons of lost souls wandering the Earth now who can’t get into Heaven since it’s been closed. She hears all of their torment and suffers, to the point where death is preferable. But now that Cas gave her a reason to die…

Dean, bless him (finally!) doesn’t believe her - not fully. It doesn’t sound like the Cas he knows. Tessa counters with the fact that he also didn’t know that Cas leading a super secret army and….fair, I suppose. Dean asks for names and then threatens her, pulling out the first blade. Tessa immediately freaks out over it. “What have you done?” she asks. “What I had to,” he responds. Dean. Bean. She grips him then and pulls herself onto the first blade, dying in his arms. 

Dean falls into a kind of lull after the kill, just barely snapping out of it as Hannah and another angel rushes in. 

Cut to Dean, handcuffed to a chair and his mouth duct-taped. “He put up a fight,” Hannah says testily as Cas and Sam rush in to him. Sam immediately lays into Dean about bringing the first blade. 

Cas interrupts their squabble, only to be interrupted by Hannah. Metatron’s calling…

On screen, Metatron talks about Castiel’s henchman’s attack in the bowling alley. Poor dead Titus’ followers have all joined Metatron’s team in retaliation. Cas protests that he sent nobody to kill Metatron. 

Metatron laughs at him, and then delivers his elevator speech. He’s only doing what’s best for the angels. 

Metatron delivers his offer: amnesty to any angel crossing to his side. Angels need to follow someone - so they might as well follow him. He tells them that Cas isn’t the bold leader they think. He’s sending angels out to die AND he’s sporting stolen grace that is fading quickly. (Some half truths and a lie!) 

Metatron goes a step further: Cas only cares about himself and the Winchesters. Cas tries for some damage control with a pissed off host of angels. He admits to the stolen grace and they assume the worst based on that. Cas’s defense is going...poorly. 

Hannah asks for proof. Cas has to punish Dean for killing Tessa. “You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one man.” She holds up on angel blade while angels hold Dean and Sam fast.

Cas takes the blade, contemplating his choices, his army. He looks at Dean...and then looks down. “No, I can’t,” he says. He lets the blade fall to his side and just like that, his army leaves. Cas, Dean, and Sam watch them file out of the room. (Don’t mind me while I gabble on about all that wasted infrastructure they’re leaving behind.) 

In Heaven, Metatron gleefully chats on the phone to the first defector from Castiel’s army before chortling to Gadreel about how his plan is working. Gadreel is pissed, though. The “elite unit” (Tessa, etcetera) he helped recruit for Metatron’s team weren’t supposed to blow themselves up - but Metatron brainwashed them as soon as they came over. Metatron’s dismissive of Gadreel’s ire. “You start by building up a seemingly unbeatable enemy, like the death star, or a rival angel with a bigger army. That way, I look like the underdog. But then, oh, no! The competition gets greedy. He starts pushing things too much. With the help of my combustible double agents. And then, after a rousing speech, his true weakness is revealed. He's in love...with humanity.”

Boris and I are going to take a moment to burn in the fires of that last sentence. We’re FINE. 

Gadreel asks after Josiah and Metatron blithely describes him as a loose end, cleaned up by his booby-traps. 

Driving back, the Impala is silent. Cas sits in the back seat stoically and HOW symbolic is THAT? When they get back to the bunker, Sam confronts Dean again about the first blade. Dean snaps a little bit and says he’s the only one who can kill Metatron, armed with the blade. He’s in charge now. (UGH I really do dislike Mark of Cain Dean.) Sam heads off in a huff and Dean corners Cas, asking about his grace. Cas tries to deflect but Dean’s done with bullshit. He asks how long Cas has to live. “Long enough to destroy Metatron, I hope.” Cas bby ;_;

Cas asks again if Dean believes he would have ordered those angels to kill themselves. Dean finally, unequivocally says that he believes Cas would never do that - he just gave up his “whole army for one guy,” after all. 

Cas wonders if the three of them can prevail. Dean believes in Team Free Will. And then... Gadreel walks in. He tells them that Metatron is a problem and he’s willing to work with them. Gadreel begs for them to give him a chance. For a moment, everybody’s chill and I think...hey they’re gonna sit down, have a nice cup of tea, come up with a civilized battle plan. 

Instead, Dean approaches Gadreel slowly. Holds out his hand. And...hauls up the first blade to slice him across the chest. Dean snarls like a raging beast at Gadreel and the episode fades away.

______________________________

In Love with Quote-manity:

“They like to hear me say their names.” “I know a couple women like that.”

Yeah, I heard he had a real explosive personality.

Honey, there ain’t no other men like me.

I’m very pop culture savvy now.

He’s a weird, dorky little guy

I've noticed your aliases are usually the names of popular musicians

You’re such an...angel sometimes

I don’t got this

Why is six afraid of seven?" Now, I assume it's because seven is a prime number, and prime numbers can be intimidating

You’re Mother Theresa with neckbeard!

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[someone-elses-star]

The 100 6x10: Matryoshka Personal Narrative

Here we go again! I hope this week went by as quick for you as it did for me! I’m super excited to see this episode--but nervous because I heard that there might be a major character death? I mean....we just lost Kane next week? Why would they do that to us again?! Any speculations? I’ve been hearing that it might be Raven (though that seems off-plot from this season) and I’ve also been hearing Octavia (but she’s in the next episode so maybe later this season, but definitely not tonight). Also, BOB DIRECTS NEXT EPISODE!!! I’m so jazzed for that! 

Love you Eliza! They can’t kill you off if you’re the only one who introduces the upcoming episodes! Lmao

Haha the reminders showing us yesterday about Bellamy being super in love with Clarke and her return. Like we need that reminder. We have been replaying that scene all week!

Love Clarke on the motorcycle.

Uh oh! Who’s on the other motorcycles?

Our head? Our head? 

You tell her Clarke! 

Damn Josephine knows her away around no matter how many years she’s been gone.

Anybody reminded of the bunker on Earth from season 1 to this one? You know the one where we all started shipping Bellarke? Lol

Ohhh....bringing up the Josephine/Gabriel relationship.

Wow. Josephine actually seems human when talking about him.

Damn.....Clarke is seizing. Damn, she is sorta worried about Clarke, but....still mostly worried about saving her own ass. Not surprised.

Ope! Here is where Raven and Abby find out Clarke is “dead.”

Russell is out for their heads. His own doing, really. 

Yeah, Raven. Look guilty and mournful for Clarke!

So Simone said that to hurt them for hurting her?

Yes, Russell, you’re fault. But not for letting them in. For trying to kill Clarke.

Awwww....calling Madi Clarke’s daughter always gets to me!

Wow. Simone is out for BLOOD!

Just like them? You are worse than them! 

Oh god?! Who are they going to kill?!?!

Oh. Telling people the truth! Good for him!

Do I hear the sounds of rebellion?

Gaia and Echo teamwork! We are getting almost all the spoiler scenes in the first ten minutes, are we? Damn.

REBELLION! REBELLION! 

Rebellion is never really peaceful, though, is it?

You tell him Echo! Haha

Wow. Make them choose who dies? Extra cruel. 

Plan B. Always have a Plan B.

I love Echo. I do. I may not like her and Bellamy together romantically, but I really, really LOVE her!

Wow Gaia. Put on the pressure. 

That’s easy....Murphy. Yup.

You tell him Madi!

Ohh....The truth is coming out!

Abby is going to kill him!

Eventually.....lol. Emori.

Abby totally giving him the slap.

You tell him, Abby!

Commercial Break #1 Thoughts: Honestly, I haven’t liked Abby this season, or most seasons, but it’s nice to see her acting like a real mother again. And also, I love Murphy, but he gets off wayyyyy too easy most time. Do I want him dead? NO! Do I agree that he would be the one to choose....don’t hate me!....but probably so. He did betray them and all. He did the right thing in the end. Sure. But mostly through a lot of outside pressure, and he probably would have gone through with it if Josephine didn’t stab him in the leg and shit. He’s very into saving his own ass. 

Is Josephine really singing....that song? Lol

Ohhh....back in the mind stuff! And it is MESSY and falling apart!

Ohhh their memories are mixing now! That is definitely not good! Way to really push the point that Clarke’s brain is deteriorating. 

Not much. Yes, I would definitely concur.

Ohhh. Her second body really didn’t want to be taken!

Josephine is actually scared. Good.

I love Clarke with a plan!

Hmmm....I hope those memories aren’t important....

Our brain, now Clarke? This is scaring me that she keeps saying “our.”

Leave it to Raven to put Clarke through hell and then give Murphy an easy talk.

So did Gaia purposely get taken?

Madi is ANGRY! 

The only person dying tonight is Russell. How come I don’t agree?

Wow. Very tense lunchtime. 

Is Ty good....or bad? 

Ohhhhh is Ty going to get himself killed because he can’t wait for the rebellion?

OH....is Simone going to die? Good riddance? I suppose....? Yup. Dead. 

No wonder Russell is going to be out for blood this episode. His poor choices are leading to his whole family’s demise. 

Commercial Break #2 Thoughts: Is anyone actually feeling bad for the Primes? I mean, I’m not, but I want to know if there is anyone out there still thinking they are good when their whole brainwashing shit is coming out. Bring on the rebellion! And seriously, already halfway through the episode? I feel, like usual, that we’ve got a lot, but still not enough. I really hope the last few episodes are not rushed because of this. That would suck. I know we’ll get a cliffhanger-ish thing like we usually do, but I hope it is after some real plot growth. Also, so we are probs not going to see Bellamy this episode? Is that what’s happening? Because next to episodes descriptions are all Bellamy/Octavia descriptions which makes me worry also about Clarke’s health. I see Eliza’s name in the cast section of both, but....still worried.

Ope. Josephine and Gabriel memories in different bodies!

Aww.....that’s so cute. I still hate her. And this is so the start of Gabriel’s hate for the Prime system.

Clarke is so sympathizing. She needs to stop being so nice.

Wow. They’re bonding. Damn. Fuck. Fine. Save them both, but give Clarke back her body. And let her live, of course. 

And here is Josephine with an ax. That’s not good. Definitely can’t not trust the psychopath.

And....there goes Josephine. But...Clarke is still inside? How? Is Josephine gone completely now? Or is she awake in Clarke’s body?

And uh oh! Killer vines!

Commercial Break #3 Thoughts: Don’t have many thoughts because that was not a lot before the next set of commercials. But I think we’re somehow seeing Josephine awake somehow? Like, why was it her who regained control when her memories were wiped? And what does this mean for Clarke’s survival? Especially when I’m convinced Josephine was going to use that ax against Clarke? Meaning she can STILL definitely NOT be trusted to keep any sort of deal in keeping them both alive. Josephine is definitely the female Murphy--a little more psycho, yes, but still valid.

At least those commercials didn’t last.

And here is the body being choked! And Gabriel and Octavia to the rescue! 

Nope....Josephine. Not Clarke.

Oh. He does still love her.  That’s not good.

Yeah, Octavia. Ask about Clarke! Save Clarke!

Wow. This is such a mess!

Damn. You guys didn’t honestly think that she was to be trusted. 

You go Bellamy!

“Because of course it is!” What sass!

Blake reunion!

You tell her Bellamy! Protect Clarke, Octavia, and your people. In that order if you don’t mind!

Gaia and Madi confrontation!

Wow Madi is really going bad! Save her!

Yes! Abby is talking sense!

That’s what you get for letting a child become Heda! 

Damn. Shedheda was horrible!

Wow Abby is really going full on mother hen now!

Raven asking the right questions! Good girl!

And this is where we are going to get Madi’s exorcism scene next week!

Ohh....the child is spared, but all the others are burned?

Very witch trials.

Commercial Break #4 Thoughts: Madi is fully gone now. Gotta get that exorcism done. Which is totally next week in Bob’s directorial debut episode next week! SO EXCITED! Which from the behind the scenes pics seems to have Jackson in it, so if he survives the burning at the stake thing, I’m thinking everyone else will, too. Just a theory, but Echo has got to come through in some aspect. And also, with some help from the rebellious people who have already been told the truth? Well. here comes the last fifteen minutes. The last five minutes of all this season’s episodes have been intense, so I wonder what the last five will bring this episode. I’m nervous. And excited. But mostly nervous as always. This show is totally going to make me go prematurely grey! 

Russell giving his dictatorship speech. Gotta have it. 

Echo is totally ready. 

You tell them Emori! 

Very witch trials. 

Damn it, Riker! What the hell?!? Can’t trust any of these bastards.

The chick on the motorcycle is going to save them last moment. Calling it.

Or.....Murphy will save them?

Hmmmm....he’s considering it.

And....now they’re safe? Again?

Ohhh....and Raven is going to use the computer to erase Madi’s bad side.

But they are still going to burn the guy who killed Simone. Typical.

I could see that coming a mile away. Gotta keep everyone in fear of the Primes.

Commercial Break #5 Thoughts: Fear is what keeps the people under control. Biggest sign of a dictatorship. And further proof that the Primes are the real bad guys here. Even Russell in his best moments has always been a brainwashing dictator playing himself off as a god. Also, last five minutes are coming up! Always the most intense! Does anyone else believe this is when we will find if Clarke is going to live or die. I really would stop watching if she died. She’s the show for me.

SAVE CLARKE Gabriel! 

Stop with the heart eyes! Only Bellamy and Clarke can have heart eyes!

She was right to depend on you. 

Gabriel making hard decisions. 

He better still save Clarke!

Either that, or the Blake’s will probably kill him.

Bellamy is seriously pissed. Save his Clarke!

Damn right, Gabriel! The only one who can be trusted I think. Maybe.

Death is life. Very poetic.

And Clarke is now seeing her mind breaking apart. 

Okay. Save her! Save her now! I’m scared! Restart her heart! 

Why is she still here!?

WHAT?!?!?!?! 

IS she really killing Clarke?

Oh God. 

Heart and the head. Hear and the head!

Save her Bellamy! This is love! 

Is that the only kiss we are only ever going to see?

Damn....are we really losing Clarke?

Oh my god. My heart seriously was stopping and racing!

The head and the heart! This is so a love confession!

THAT WAS A LOVE CONFESSION!!!!!

My hands are still shaking from thinking that they were really killing off Clarke!

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Taking Back Neverland--Chapter 7 of 10

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating:  G or a soft T

Summary: AU. After actress Emma Swan’s lead role in a popular TV show is at an end, she is offered the leading role in the Regina Mills film, Taking Back Neverland, a fresh retelling of the Peter Pan story.  It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Only problem?  She’ll be starring opposite Killian Jones, who she positively can’t stand.  (Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection.)

Previous chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

Notes:  So this is an old story, originally written about 3 years ago as part of my Fluffy Fridays collection, but @kmomof4 made the amazing above pic-set for it as a birthday gift, (Thanks Krystal!  It’s perfect!), and I decided it was time for a reissue.   Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Somehow, she wasn’t entirely sure how, Emma made it through the rest of filming that week. Things were…awkward at best between her and Killian.  She saw him shooting her looks.  He wanted to talk to her about “the incident”, as she’d termed it in her mind, she knew that well enough.  He’d even tried to bring it up a time or two.

After the third time she’d bluntly walked away the moment things started getting anywhere close to serious, he’d finally taken the hint and stopped bringing it up.

It didn’t stop the way he looked at her, though. Even Regina commented on it, rolling her eyes and muttering something about “yearning looks and doe-y eyes”.

Emma got in her yellow bug on Friday night and let out the breath she hadn’t remembered she was holding. TGIF.  She needed the weekend like air.  She needed a chance to…process all the crap from this week.  She needed a breather from Mr. Lovesick Pirate.  She just needed to be away from it all.

Not that the rest of the week had been bad, per se.  They’d filmed a couple of romantic scenes: the scene in the echo caves where Hook admitted to Anna that he was falling in love with her and the scene where he vowed to win her heart, and those had been a bit…awkward, but other than that, she’d enjoyed the scenes she filmed this week.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was also that scene in Dark Hollow where Pan’s shadow almost killed Hook and Baelfire.  That one had left Emma utterly drained.  It had taken her a while to get into the proper mindset for the scene.  It was just hard to dredge up the appropriate amount of panic when your scene partners are standing on platforms against a green screen, just thrashing around and yelling at nothing.

She’d closed her eyes, tried to imagine someone she cared for in mortal danger, the feelings that would be coursing through her in that situation, but it was easier said and done. The truth was, the only way she was able to dredge up the appropriate amount of panic was thinking about Killian being killed.  She imagined him being stabbed in the back by David.  She imagined him with a huge, gaping wound in his neck, bleeding out.  She imagined being forced to run him through with a sword herself.

It was after that last one that she was able to summon enough panic as she called Hook’s name to satisfy Regina.

Emma didn’t want to think about what that said about her.

Well, she didn’t need to. She was headed for the weekend; a weekend where she could totally forget a certain piercing-eyed, smoldering pirate even existed.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Sunday night David and Mary Margaret had Emma over to their house for dinner. Emma had, at first, flat out refused to come, remembering the last time Mary Margaret had asked her to dinner, which had resulted in a one-on-one meal with Killian.

But Mary Margaret had absolutely assured her she would be their only guest. She’d further said there was something she and David wanted to tell her, and had sounded so dejected at Emma’s rejection, that Emma had finally relented.

When she’d arrived at the Nolans’ around four o’clock Sunday afternoon, both her brother and sister-in-law were busy in the kitchen, the smell of roasting chicken filled the air. Emma’s mouth watered at the scent.

Emma let herself into the house with her spare key, and from the look of things, David and Mary Margaret hadn’t heard her come in. They stood impossibly close together at the kitchen counter, punctuating their chopping of vegetables with tenderly murmured words and smiles.   It made Emma unaccountably sad to see their closeness, their obvious love.  Don’t get her wrong, she was happy for her brother and sister-in-law and their happiness, but…well, she’d never have that, never let herself have that, and sometimes…sometimes she just felt lonely.

When David leaned in for what was obviously going to be the kind of kiss that would scar Emma for life, she decided it was definitely time to let her presence be known.  She cleared her throat, and David and Mary Margaret jumped apart, clearly startled.

“Oh, Emma!” Mary Margaret said, “we didn’t hear you come in!”

“Yeah,” Emma said dryly. “I could see that.”

Mary Margaret smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?  We’re just finishing up the veggies.  I’ll get these guys in the oven to roast, and then dinner will be in about an hour.”

Emma shook her head. “No thanks; I’m good for now.  Smells great in here.  I always love it when you invite me to dinner; whatever you cook is always amazing.”

Mary Margaret blushed slightly, shrugging. “I like doing it.  I like taking care of my husband and family.  Besides, when I’m the one to do the cooking, I can almost always guilt David into offering to do the dishes.”

“Hey!” David said with a mock scowl. “I’m standing right here!”

Emma laughed, noting how incredibly happy the two of them seemed today.  They were always happy together, but there seemed to be something…extra…today.  She wondered why.

“You two seem to be in good moods today,” Emma said, filching a carrot stick from Mary Margaret’s veggie tray. “Any special reason?”

The two of them looked at each other, their smiles growing impossibly wider. Finally, Mary Margaret reached for her husband’s hand and then turned back to Emma.  “As a matter of fact there is.  That’s why we wanted to invite you over tonight; we wanted to tell you the news.”

“We’re expecting!” David cut in. “In just under seven months, there’ll be a bouncing new baby Nolan in the world!”

“Really?” Emma asked with a smile. “It finally happened?  That’s great!  I know how long you guys have wanted a kid!”

Mary Margaret stepped forward and hugged Emma. “I know!  We’re over the moon!  Just found out a couple of weeks ago.  We’ve decided to wait until I cross the twelve-week mark to make it public to the rest of the world, but I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you!”

Emma hugged her sister-in-law back. “I’m really happy for you both.  This is one lucky kid to have the two of you as parents.  And, of course, it goes without saying that Aunt Emma is going to spoil the little guy or girl like crazy.”

“I know!” Mary Margaret said. “I am so excited!  I can’t wait to get started on the nursery, and find all the cute little baby clothes and everything else.  I’m hoping Granny at the diner will offer to knit the baby a blanket!  Her blankets are the best.  Oh, and you know that other night?  I know you thought David and I were just trying to matchmake when we left you with Killian, but I really was sick!  Let me tell you, ‘morning sickness’ is the most misleading name ever!  It should be called ‘every part of the day I’m breathing sickness’. Definitely not my favorite part of being pregnant.  I’m hoping…Emma?  Is everything okay?”

Emma realized she’d looked away, her lips turning down in a slight frown. Mention of Killian and that dinner…well, it brought back all the stress and awkwardness of the past week’s filming, and she just…she just wanted the confusing feelings to stop.

“Yeah,” she said, forcing a falsely-bright smile on her face. “Just great!”

It was obvious she hadn’t remotely convinced her perceptive sister-in-law. Mary Margaret shot her husband a significant look, and David muttered something about wanting to see what was going on in the game, making a hasty exit.

“Now,” Mary Margaret said, as soon as it was just the two of them, “I think we both know that’s not true. Your face fell as soon as I mentioned Killian.  This is me, remember?  Your old roommate.  I know when something’s bothering you. Anything you want to talk about?”

Emma was silent for a moment, but finally sighed, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. Maybe it would be best to get this off her chest.  Maybe if she just…talked about it, she could make this confusing mix of feelings within her go away—attraction, the kind of excitement that accompanies a new crush, fear, dread.

“I kissed him,” Emma said finally.

Mary Margaret took a deliberate sip of her tea, clearly trying to appear casual. “Um…who?” she asked.

“Killian,” Emma said. “I kissed Killian.”

“Well, yes,” Mary Margaret said slowly. “That was, after all, what the script called for.”

“No,” Emma said, fighting the panic threatening to well up. “I mean..yes, that’s when it happened, but…but it wasn’t just the script.  I…I was really kissing him, and he was really kissing me back!”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret said, “well…why?”

“I don’t know!” Emma said, getting to her feet and starting to pace. “At first, I just wanted to get it over with, and then I just…wanted to see what kissing him would be like and, I don’t know!  It’s been a while?”

“Did it…mean anything?”

The question made Emma’s heart race, the fear coming fast and hard. “No!” she insisted a bit too vehemently.  “It was just a kiss!  It couldn’t mean anything!”

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment. Finally she patted the chair beside hers.  “Emma, have a seat.” 

After a moment, Emma did as she was told. “If this is going to be another one of your patented ‘love is worth it and you have to hold on to hope’ speeches, you know you’ve already used them all on me, right?”

Mary Margaret smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing, then, that that’s not what this is.”

“Okay…so what is this?”

“Emma,” she said gently, “that kiss wasn’t nothing, and you know it.”

“What?” Emma squeaked, “of course it was! It was…”

“No Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a gentle shake of her head. “I know you!  You never would have brought it up if it was nothing.  You’re running scared; I see it in your eyes.  You’re terrified if you let down those walls, Killian will hurt you, and you know what?  I can’t promise he won’t; no one can.”

“Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” Emma asked dryly.

“Absolutely! But that’s not the pep talk part.  It’s coming up.  I know what Neal and Walsh did to you.  I know what absolute scum-of-the-earth losers they were!  I know those experiences make it hard to move on, but just think about something, alright?”

“Okay, what do you want me to think about?”

“Don’t let them keep hurting you,” Mary Margaret said gently. “Don’t let the terrible things they did to you keep festering forever.  Don’t let them rob you of the amazing happiness you could have—whether it’s with Killian or with someone else.  I can promise you from personal experience with your brother that knights in shining armor still exist.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian sighed as he slid into the usual booth at the Big Bad Wolf. He was the first one there; Dave and Robin must be held up in traffic.  Signaling the waiter, he ordered a shot of rum, and then turned to stare out the window.  It was a beautiful night.  Warm for autumn, the leaves just beginning to turn.

Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it as he’d like. Much as he enjoyed evenings with the lads, this weather was tailor made for a romantic stroll with one’s sweetheart.

If only his own sweetheart weren’t so blasted insistent on avoiding him like the plague.

The only time the lovely Miss Emma Swan would so much as speak to him was when they were performing and she had no choice.

Was he truly such loathsome company? Had that kiss truly been so terrible for her that she could no longer even stand to look at him?

Because for him, it had been the farthest thing from terrible. It had been all he’d imagined and so much more.  It had been life-changing—in a very literal way.  The kiss exposed something he would have never expected.  Finally, finally after years of pain and regret he could put Milah in the past.  Though there’d likely always be a place in his heart for his first love, that kiss had shown him that a new love had entered his heart.

A love that delighted and frustrated him in equal measure. How was a man to react when the object of his love wanted nothing to do with him? 

Robin and David walked in, talking and laughing, distracting Killian briefly from his brooding. “You lot appear to be enjoying yourselves,” he said glumly.

“Yeah, it’s been a good day,” David said, “you, on the other hand, my friend, look like hell.”

Killian quirked his brow. “I’ll have you know my fans waiting outside the studio this afternoon assured me I’m as devilishly handsome as ever.”

Robin snorted a laugh. “Did the masses catch you this time, mate?”

Killian grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll say one thing for your fiancée.  She’s found a hell of a security firm.  Bloody convenient when you’re in no mood to smile and give autographs.”

David shot him a suspicious look. “Seems there are a lot of bad moods going around lately.  Emma was certainly feeling none too pleased at dinner yesterday.  Anything you need to tell me ‘mate’?”

Killian rolled his eyes. David was a good man, a good friend, but from time to time he was more protective than a Rottweiler.  “If you’re not so subtly asking if I caused your sister pain, the answer is no—at least not purposely.”

“From her reaction to your scenes today,” Robin said, taking a swig of his beer that the waitress had just brought him, “I’d say you caused her anger rather than pain.”

“Picked up on that too did you?” Killian asked dryly. “What gave it away?  Was it the fact that she won’t willingly say two words to me outside of shooting or the very clear gusto with which she performed today’s scene where Anna lays into Hook and Baelfire for fighting over her and almost getting us all killed?”

“Both. Assuredly both.”

Killian sighed again. “We were getting along quite nicely until we filmed that bloody kiss!”

“What happened with the kiss?” David growled.

“It was real,” Killian said.  “That was no stage kiss, Dave.  For either one of us.  Clearly she regrets what happened between us, and I haven’t a clue how to restore our relationship.”

David’s face turned even more forbidding. “I think it’s time you and I have a little talk about your intentions toward my sister, Killian.”

Killian shot him an amused look. “That’s a bit old-fashioned even for me, mate, and I play a man who still pays with doubloons.”

“Maybe so,” David said stubbornly, “but I know your reputation. I know about all the women you’ve cavorted with in the past few years.”

“Aye,” Killian said, turning serious. “Perhaps I did like to keep company with the ladies in the past, but I assure you, I wouldn’t spend so much time pursuing a relationship with a woman I see merely as loot.”

David continued to stare daggers at him for another moment, and then he nodded. Picking up his own mug of beer, he took a long sip before speaking again.  “So you’re interested in a relationship, are you?”

Killian nodded. “That kiss…I never believed I could get over my first love, my Milah.  That is until I met Emma.”

David clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s great!  You’ll be good for her!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Dave,” Killian said, with a dubious shake of his head. “It takes more than one person’s interest to make a relationship.  Your sister seems to want nothing to do with me.”

To Killian’s surprise, both his mates began laughing. Uproariously.

“You think she doesn’t like you?” Robin asked, wiping at the tears in his eyes.  “Killian, even that dog the on-set shrink brings to set can see the way she looks at you.  Definitely not unaffected by your charm, that one!”

“I’ll second that,” David said. “Did you ever watch her TV show, Killian?”

Killian furrowed his brows. “Aye; what does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you happen to catch her more romantic scenes with the sheriff?” David went on. “The director on set insisted those love scenes be so passionate they got right up to the line of what they were allowed to show on network television.”

“Aye. What of it mate?”

“Just this,” David said. “I was on set with her from time to time; watched her film.  Although, let me tell you, watching your sister film scenes like that…not fun.  Not fun at all.  Do you know what happened when the director yelled ‘cut’?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“She and Graham Humbert stepped away from each other and immediately went back to their normal talking, laughing, friendly colleague relationship. No awkwardness, no blushing.  Making out with the sheriff was just her job, and it meant nothing because all she felt for Graham was friendship.  If she’s reacting that strongly to your one on-screen kiss, that speaks volumes about the fact that she’s anything but indifferent to you.”

“Is that truly what you believe?” Killian asked, hardly daring to hope.

“How much do you know about Emma’s past?” David asked.

“She told me a bit about Neal and Walsh.”

David nodded. “Then you understand a little bit.  She’s been hurt badly, but it wasn’t only what those sons of bitches did to her.  You know, she was in the system for years before my mom adopted her.  She’s told me a few stories about her experiences in foster homes, and let me tell you.  They’re far from pretty.  Some of the things her foster parents did to her…well, I’ll just say you do not want the details.  Anyway, the point is, from birth, Emma’s learned that you can’t trust people; you can’t let yourself care for them.  They’ll only hurt you.”

“And so she doesn’t trust in the sincerity of my affection for her?” Killian asked.

“I doubt it,” David said, shaking his head. “And even if she senses you do mean it…I know Emma.  She’s wondering just how long you’ll stick around.  She’s wondering how soon it’ll be before you break her heart too.”

Killian’s own heart broke at the picture Swan’s brother painted for him. This poor lost girl, starving for love, being abandoned, betrayed, sent away again and again.  No wonder Emma was afraid to trust him.

“So what do you suggest I do, mate?”

“Stick around,” David said simply. “Show her you’re in this for the long haul.  Maybe give her a little space; show you do care about her boundaries, but make it clear as well that you’ll always be there for her when she needs you.”

For the first time all day, Killian really truly smiled. “I can do that.  It would, indeed, be my very great pleasure.”