#and you can't even say you didn't know I haven't watch it because I literally SAID SO

[just-thoughts-no-vibes]

Can someone take One Piece from power scalers PLEASE?!! I can't deal with people who have invested days of their time into something as long and complex as this anime/manga just to be able to run into every conversation and say "he solos", "a fraud!!!", "he wins tho", etc. Sure, power scaling can be fun but if it's your measurement for the quality of the story or characters then you are dumb as a brick, especially if we are talking about One Piece.

I just saw an edit on tiktok about Vivi and the person who made it said they would like her to rejoin. Makes sense as we all love Vivi and she was the only person we were convinced would join but didn't (If you thought that Bon Clay, Carrot, or Yamato would join I really don't know what to tell you…). And comments were FLOODED with people hating on her because she is weak. I am not joking, this one dude literally said he would drop One Piece if Vivi rejoins because she is a weakling. There were so many comments about her impracticality and weakness, and how Luffy wouldn't benefit from her at all, and I have to ask: Why get involved in discussions about an anime/manga that you obviously haven't watched/read in your life?

I can't even say they weren't paying attention because statements like this go way beyond that. You can't convince me that you've ever seen a second of One Piece and still think that Luffy recruits people based on strength and their utility. I can't believe that someone is so media illiterate that they can watch hundreds of episodes and think that physical strength is the deciding factor for a character's importance and role in a story like this.

I am so sick of people who reduce great stories to just fights when they have so much to offer. And most exhausting of all, they are everywhere! I can't solve this just by blocking them because these people have an undying need to force their opinion always, regardless of the context. In this community, someone can make a tutorial for Franky's hair, and a "dude bro" will emerge from his little stinky lair to say "Zoro solos tho" thinking he's done something significant.

[zafirosreverie]

I usually don't do this, but I really, really wanted to watch Wednesday and I was so excited, mostly because of Gwendoline Christie, Catherine Zeta- Jones and Christina Ricci. BUT! someone just spoiled me what happens with Gwen's character on my asks and now I'm not sure I want to watch it anymore.

I'm mad, I'm sad, and I once again BEG you to be respectful of people that haven't seen a movie/series or read a book. TAG your f*cking spoilers!!

[maddy-ferguson]

i think about pluto will always be a planet in my room at least once every three months when i rewatch gilmore girls season 7 episode 11 santa's secret stuff and they talk about how pluto isn't a planet anymore

[astonmartinii]

imgonnagetyouback [guilty as sin part four] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

PR jail did a lot of damage, but unlike SOMEONE else, charles is ready for the apology tour

MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: the timeline is absolutely all over the place in this and for needs must pretend that the spanish and austrian races are swapped on the calendar!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,045,389 others

yourusername: i think your house is haunted, why are they always mad?

view all comments

user239: i have had it with little miss poet over here TELL ME IF MY PARENTS ARE DIVORCED OR NOT

user240: i hate that as this generation, them following each other on instagram is a key feature to whether they're still together or not

user241: my grandparents didn't have to go through this 😭

maxverstappen1: spill it sis

user242: WHAT DO YOU KNOW MAX

maxverstappen1: ummm nothing, and if i did i only take cash bribes. this is baby max relating hard to the caption

user242: oh :(

yourusername: oh maxy .... at least we now have good ways to express our emotions!

user243: ma'am he tore lando's wheel off because he can't handle wheel to wheel racing

liked by landonorris

yourusername: it's called hard racing, maybe mclaren should watch some of senna's old races instead of doing their 100th tribute livery xx

landonorris: you know he said you would do this exact thing, you can't handle anyone linked to your brother doing well

yourusername: oh i was perfectly prepared for you to win every race after miami since it was clear that the mclaren is the fastest car on the grid EVEN THOUGH you've publicly sided with them when anyone with a moral backbone (and a hint of PR awareness) would've run for the hills

landonorris: i'd really worry about the fact that the one piece of relevance you had left is no where to be seen, you're not worth defending for him

yourusername: it's insane the way you all have the same pompous attitude about this (i know that's a big word, but maybe you guys could get a couple of quid together to buy a dictionary)

maxverstappen1: also don't try and pretend 1. that you're completely in the right about everything that happened in austria 2. that you weren't scrounging around me (when we were friends i guess) trying to get details on y/n and charles

user244: okay this is wild

user245: i really thought lando would see the light on this

user246: or he realised that he can't race wheel to wheel unless he has the power of carlando friendship so he's burning bridges

oscarpiastri: i miss leo

yourusername: we literally are down the street bozo

oscarpiastri: i am ON MY WAY

user247: she's in monaco ???

user248: has to be, oscar only has a rental place he stays in london for mclaren and y/n has only ever lived in madrid or monaco

user249: there is still hope everyone

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 2,309,677 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: was i out of line? did i say something way too honest?

there are a couple things i need to get off of my chest.

first, a massive apology to my girlfriend. y/n is the love of my life and will be my wife sooner or later and i hate that as a 26-year-old grown man i haven't had the backbone to stand up to ferrari when it comes to her. she's incredibly strong and i hate that she's had to go through this without my public support. i can't take it back now, but if i could i never would've let them take my phone and take control of my social media. they have now been dealt with and no one will stop me declaring my love and support for her.

second, if i hadn't already ran out of patience before, the legal trouble that family have put their own blood through threw me over the edge. they will never, ever deserve that girl and if i have anything to do with it they will never talk to her ever again. i may have been silent online but money talks and we will have vindication soon.

third, a big thank you to max, oscar and ollie for their continued support of y/n. it means so much that the public still saw how loved she is when i couldn't.

four, i am awake and i am angry, these people will learn who they are fucking with. see you soon lecfosi, it'll all be worth it in the end.

view all comments

user254: WAR IS OVER

user255: my heart dropped when i got the post notification but this is the best news possible

user256: am i going to excuse a 26-year-old man for being a pussy? no. but i am going to celebrate him seeing the light and y/n having him back in her corner

yourusername: he was never out of my corner. true there was no public support, but he was there. i would rather have his support behind closed doors where it matters than plastered all over social media

maxverstappen1: you wouldn't believe the lengths these two were going, i became a messenger pigeon when they physically took his phone and the letters were so grossly cute

yourusername: that's literally mail tampering

maxverstappen1: and i'm a human not a pigeon, we can't all get what we want

charles_leclerc: i did i got y/n 😁😁😁

maxverstappen1: ugh welcome back gross instagram comments

user257: so that's what max meant when someone referenced letters that's so cuteeeee

user258: the shout out to max and the extended leclerc family i know that's right

oscarpiastri: anything for my grid mum

olliebearman: actually charles can you get your phone taken away again cause the heist was VERY fun

yourusername: heist???????

charles_leclerc: don't answer that ollie

yourusername: answer it ollie, did you put yourself in harms way ???

charles_leclerc: it was hardly high-stakes

olliebearman: we only stole a phone from silvia's office

yourusername: ollie that's kind of slay but i'm going to need you to delete all of these incriminating comments i don't want you to get in trouble for charles

user259: i know this is just eating up carlos inside seeing how loved she is in his sport

user260: it really does seem that lando is the only one in his corner

sebastianvettel: i am proud of you charles, i know how much ferrari means to you, but never let them take you from those who matter

charles_leclerc: thank you seb, i couldn't have done it without you

yourusername: we love you seb

sebastianvettel: my impromptu not at all prompted trip to maranello definitely wasn't to give you a well-earned slap up the side of the head

user261: no carlos bitching it up in the comments... i've been dreaming of this

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,734,037 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

maxverstappen1: back to being a third-wheel, balance is restored - the united front of hating is BACK BABY

view all comments

user263: i prayed for times like this

user264: i know they didn't break up but i'm so glad y/n and charles are back together they're too pretty not to be in our faces 24/7

yourusername: just paying you back for you and kelly let me crash on the sofa

maxverstappen1: that really wasn't the burden you thought it was, jimmy and sassy loved their interactive cat bed

yourusername: i miss them (don't tell leo)

charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU MUM :((((((((

yourusername: okay baby we're not going to do that ...

charles_leclerc: but :( his feelings are hurt

yourusername: i know lewis is cool and will be your new teammate, but i draw the line at pretending to be leo in the instagram comment section

roscoelovescoco: watch urs backs

yourusername: AHAHAHHAHAHA

maxverstappen1: this man is about to turn 40

lewishamilton: you people ever heard of having some whimsy in your life

yourusername: i got sued by my own family 👍

lewishamilton: um yeah, sorry that happened to you

user265: y/n be ticking up the amount of drivers she's gone toe to toe with in instagram comments

charles_leclerc: you can finally eat my ice cream without trying to hide it

maxverstappen1: i think it's against my partnership contracts to publicly say that i like that ice cream

yourusername: don't worry baby we both ate three tubs and cried watching chick flicks while you were locked away in maranello

charles_leclerc: there's a reason a special edition strawberry flavour made its way to you

yourusername: i love you :(

carlossainz55: you might be "united" but you haven't won yet

charles_leclerc: do you ever shut the fuck up?

carlossainz55: oh someone finally found their voice

charles_leclerc: yeah i did which means you don't get to control the narrative anymore and i can call you a bitch

maxverstappen1: also if there was anyway we would lose, at least we are united, i can count how many friends you have left in this sport on one hand and two of them are your dad and your cousin

charles_leclerc: and watch out, clearly you guys aren't afraid to betray family, who knows it could be you next?

user266: i think charles is still being restrained but can we please at least get one day when he can fully go off his rocker

user267: i think we deserve it after all of it

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,764,094 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: she's not only poet barbie but also lawyer barbie - THAT POETRY IS MINE BITCH, SUCK MY DICK AND RUN ME MY MONEY

view all comments

user268: i don't think i've ever been more happy for a stranger before in my life

user269: she deserves this so much i'm actually like over the moon

charles_leclerc: i'm so happy for you baby, i knew it would all be worth it in the end

yourusername: they can't stop my romantic ramblings now

charles_leclerc: i don't know if i want them to hear them all

yourusername: oh no some are for our ears only ;)

oscarpiastri: unfortunately it's NOT all just for your ears

olliebearman: for a millionaire i thought you'd at least buy a house with thick walls

maxverstappen1: you'll get used to it after a while

yourusername: THERE WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION ARE YOU GUYS NOT HAPPY FOR ME ???

oscarpiastri: clearly not THAT happy

charles_leclerc: good. that would be entirely inappropriate

user270: finally some normal fucking couple stuff for y/n and charles

user271: their dynamic is so cute going from poetry to FUCKING

user272: i would be the exact same if i looked like either of them

fernandoalo_oficial: spoken like a real poet, i'm happy for you niña

yourusername: thank you pops !! couldn't have done it without you <3

fernandoalo_oficial: dealing with charles having close to a nervous breakdown every weekend was a lot, but i'm glad you have each other

charles_leclerc: thank you nando :)))) (i didn't have a nervous breakdown)

fernandoalo_oficial: you stress ate seven punnets of grapes

charles_leclerc: FERRARI I SWEAR I DIDN'T

charles_leclerc: wait i'm still annoyed at you ignore that

user273: i think charles is the first case of stockholm syndrome to a sports team

yourusername: @carlossainz55 come on i wanna tussle stop being a pussy

carlossainz55: enjoy your victory lap while you can, it won't last for long

yourusername: suck my actual dick, you put me through this i won't let you run away from it

yourusername: massive tip because i'm feeling generous, maybe actually come to court because there's a lot that you could know ...

carlossainz55: why would i waste my time on you?

yourusername: all will reveal itself

user274: oh it's finally on the other foot .... i'm enjoying this

user275: i think y/n and charles are too

f1tea

liked by user276, user277 and 21,056 others

tagged: carlossainz55

f1tea: sources close to us say that there is serious worry in the sainz camp after the courts decided they were unlawful in their actions against y/n sainz. the financial standings of the sainz family were already somewhat dyer before they took the youngest sainz' income but it's said to be even worse now they've had to pay damages.

in terms of f1, several of the teams that were interested in sainz were put off by the way he and his family were treating his sister but have fully backed out now the financial struggles of the sainzs has become clear.

this comes after a number of sponsors have ended their partnerships with the spaniard. where do you think he'll end up?

view all comments

user278: at the job centre hopefully

user279: i think this is what the kids call poetic justice

user280: the way charles just picked up a new sponsor... we love to see it!

user281: all the sponsors flocking to charles is so fucking real

user282: life comes at you so fucking fast

user283: in the words of his hero: KARMA!

user284: especially since fernando congratulated y/n on her win in court 😭

user285: bro can't even afford the tractor seat at williams i am HOWLING

user286: or at sauber, boy oh boy this is some great great content for a hater like me

user287: or HAAS and they fucking took nikita mazepin

user288: the next race can't come fast enough i wanna see how this guy spins it in the media

user289: for once in his life i can't see him spinning this is any way that makes him look good

user290: god i hope y/n is in the paddock as well

user291: oh gosh i need her diana revenge dress moment

user292: i don't care if that's your brother i need you to STUNT ON HIM

user293: other than y/n and charles, i know oscar is cheering at this news

user294: bro saw his grid parents get back together and his biggest opp be declared broke and jobless

user295: i really don't understand how y/n slutting round the paddock has been praised so much when her hopping from driver to driver has cost her brother his dream

user296: cope.

user297: also y/n has only ever been with charles DESPITE carlos and her father trying to pimp her out for favours

usr298: now we know this ^^ i don't understand why carlos was so annoyed that she was finally doing what they always wanted

user299: it was because it didn't serve him.

user300: he was probably happy y/n was with charles until he realised it was for you know an ACTUAL relationship rather than psychological teammate warfare

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 104,889 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

carlossainz55: it was never 'true love' if all you ever wanted was to bag a trophy husband and never work again

view all commments

user302: posting a picture of charles' crash and tagging him is nasty business

user303: would've been iconic if i wasn't him

user304: also that caption just really isn't the read he thought it was

user305: i grew up watching posh spice and cheryl cole in the stands at england games like obvs people want to be with athletes

user306: also this guy pretending he doesn't have a revolving door of models who are just there to be wags

yourusername: yes? and.

yourusername: at least wag isn't my only job. you better hope that rebecca stays booked honey

carlossainz55: don't bring rebecca into this she has nothing to do with any of this

yourusername: awwww did you already cheat? that does track...

yourusername: also you've been slandering my boyfriend all over the internet and ON THIS POST so shut the fuck up i'll bring up who i want to bring up

carlossainz55: get the fighting words out, you might need them when charles questions why you just happened to fall into his lap

yourusername: you've stolen every last penny from me, sued me and tried to turn everyone i care about against me - and guess what? YOU'RE STILL STUPID

carlossainz55: i'm not stupid you're a gold digging slut and you WILL BE FOUND OUT

yourusername: i actually think i could play pinball with the one remaining brain cell in your head

user307: i know this is serious drama but YES SASSY Y/N IS UNLEASHED FROM HER LAWYER'S GRASPS

user308: someone TAP CHARLES IN

user309: please you're out of the ferrari jail NOW IS THE TIME

charles_leclerc: you think i'm going to be offended that the most beautiful girl in the world has always wanted to be with me?

yourusername: what if i told you i'm a mastermind?

charles_leclerc: i would say i'm impressed and FLATTERED

yourusername: and now you're mine :P

charles_leclerc: and i'm glad

charles_leclerc: and i am of the serious belief that even if you didn't seek me out, we would've found each other regardless

yourusername: you made me believe in soulmates

maxverstappen1: @carlossainz55 this post really didn't do what you thought it would lOL

oscarpiastri: bro is falling at every hurdle

carlossainz55: yeah, yeah fuck you two. i'll see you on the track

maxverstappen1: if you can get close enough :P

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,783,088 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

yourusername: siri play hoes mad

view all comments

user310: this girl is a bestselling poet and this is how she's captioning her instagram posts

user311: babe we're like months into a family war that has had whole ass court cases we don't need eloquent captions

oscarpiastri: where's that one tiktok audio

yourusername: that audio has gone platinum in our house, i think i've saved every edit with it and charles

charles_leclerc: they do slap every time

maxverstappen1: HOES MAD HOES MAD HOES MAD

yourusername: someone is enjoying this

maxverstappen1: i've been praying on these people's downfall since i was 17 i've got a fancy bottle of wine i've been waiting to open

yourusername: we've really been through the wars with these people

charles_leclerc: and ME

maxverstappen1: well here's to them being BROKE AS FUCK LOL

yourusername: cheers!

charles_leclerc: 🥂

user312: this has been some kind of crazy turn around

user313: considering we all thought they had broken up not long ago we have come SO far

charles_leclerc: i'd have the whole world mad at me if it kept you by my side

yourusername: i love you so much

user314: tbf i'd say a good 80% of people were mad at you when you were being ferrari's bitch

charles_leclerc: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY I'M SORRY

sebastianvettel: if it's any consolation, he was very torn up about it

yourusername: i know what happened charles, don't worry. i know you're dedicated to your craft and have people you want to win for

charles_leclerc: but i'm also dedicated to you

yourusername: we're in it together, forever now

yourusername: although this does mean ferrari have to deal with me now

user314: ugh they're so precious

carlossainz55: i'll have the last laugh don't you worry. you may have won the battle but you have not won the war.

user315: does this guy ever Shut the FUCK UP

user316: i'm bored. can't you just let them be happy

carlossainz55: no.

fin.

note: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but here she is, can't tell whether i love it or hate it - probably because i've been looking at it so long xx i guess p5 will be out hopefully some time soon and i hope my tagging works

[onlyrains]

𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 thing | 𝓵𝓱𝓼

relationship is scary; what if your partner is too tall for you to kiss them?

“morning…?” you greeted confusedly at your boyfriend in your kitchen when you just freshly out of a shower.

“morning—you finished already?” his wide back still facing you, unbothered.

yesterday, he called and said he was gonna take you two to have brunch somewhere. but here he was, busy in your kitchen with sleeves rolled up to his firm elbow.

a chopping sound filled the room as you approached him. “aren’t we going somewhere, hee?”

he dropped his knife and spun quickly. “god, ’m sorry, i forgot to tell you. it's just… i watched some recipe videos last night and i think i’m going to try that out today…” his voice disappeared at the end. “is it okay…?”

you gasped. “seriously?” you were genuinely surprised. he was never show an interest in cooking before and preferred to just take a delivery or going out if you both were feeling it.

so today was the first time and you believed it will be written in history.

you glanced at his scattered groceries on the counter. “it is okay, boo. it's even better that you are one who cooks for me. wow.” you give him a wide smile then cupped his face.

he scratched his head, flustered when his favorite pet name came out. “we still could go if this fail, you know. i’m not sure either,”

you chuckled. “have some trust in yourself, can't you?” you tiptoed, tried to give him a peck on the lips but you kissed his chin instead.

you couldn’t reach his lips. that was a new fact for you too. you just realized he was always crouched down or the one who initiate a kiss. you almost hit your own head, couldn’t believe you missed such a crucial thing in your relationship.

he was laughing his ass off when he saw you pout and refused to see his face by hiding it on his chest, embarrassed.

still chuckling, he hugged you and rubbed your back, assuring. “it's okay, baby. it's cute.” actually, he also just noticed how your height just fell around his chest, not even his neck, not even his shoulder.

how could he not noticed his dear girlfriend is so tiny? well, he knew you were smaller than him, but he didn't know that you were basically tiny? even when he hugged you like now, your figure was completely disappear in his body. how could he not noticed that earlier? oh, maybe because he was too busy control his composure everytime he's around you, right?

“don’t mock me.” you mumbled.

“eh? i’m not? why do i have to mock about it? it's so cute, baby, trust me i love it.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i can't. you can be childish—”

“says a child—AW! baby, your pinches is someth—”

“but i’m not a child!” you sulked.

“okay, okay.” he grabbed both of your hands in his. “from now on, i’m going to love you like my own child, baby.” he kissed top of your head ran around the kitchen as you chased him.

he was glad he canceled the plans for brunch at a fancy restaurant he found a few days ago. otherwise, he wouldn’t been able to enjoy this stupid moment with you after a week of non-stop working. he was thankful your laugh could literally heal his mind and soul to stay sane.

the brunch he promised was still happened tho it would be more realistic to call it a lunch. thanks to him for always bring your height up every chance he got. don’t get it wrong tho, it wasn’t a bad thing. he loved it, he really did.

it gave him an instant ego boost whenever he noticed you need to looking up fully when you look into his eyes. even sometimes, it made him thinking about the other thing that might put him in an advantageous position.

you were still sat in your dining table when he suddenly towering you after doing the dishes.

you tilted your head with anticipation. “what?”

“nothing.” a smug smile appeared on his lips.

“still haven't giving up?” you asked then stood up on your chair. now you were the one towering him. “what now?”

he wrapped his arms in your waist. “it's nothing, really.”

you rested your hand on his shoulder and finally pecked his lips in a sudden move. you felt his arms tensed up in your waist.

“baby, that's dangerous, y'know.” he whined, his voice low.

you smirked. maybe you both have a same thought today.

taglist [open]: @llvrhee

[toruro]

— ✧ the cake in the back

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.

genre. smut, fluff

tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe

w/c. 3.8k+

a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day

"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.

mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.

"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"

the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.

"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"

"you already know it."

grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."

"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.

"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.

seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.

the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.

you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.

realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.

"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.

"new apron, huh?"

shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."

seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"

you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.

"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"

"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.

"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.

"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."

"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"

"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."

when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"

"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."

you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.

the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.

"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.

seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—

seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"

"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.

there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.

you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.

"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.

you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.

"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.

"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.

a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."

now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.

you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.

again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.

wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.

the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.

seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.

"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.

with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.

"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.

"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.

there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.

it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.

and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.

fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.

"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.

the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.

parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.

"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.

and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.

"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.

it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.

"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.

"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.

you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.

"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.

"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.

"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.

you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.

'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?

"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.

"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.

"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.

the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.

which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.

what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.

and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.

"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.

and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.

"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"

"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"

and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.

how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.

gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"

"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.

as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.

a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!

tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)

[certified-bi]

Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.

1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...

2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.

Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.

3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.

4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.

5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.

Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.

[simpee9000]

I love your “not just friends” series🥹 im obsessed! Im hoping to see more I love it soooooooooooo muchhhh!!!!!!! Even telling my friends to read it

But I saw a bakugo headcanon by another anon about him having a crush which I wanna add a spin on, what if he rejected this said crush back in middle school but developed feelings after xD I find it funny

Thank you !!! I'm glad you enjoy it so much!

And that is literally Katsuki Bakugo, can't see him not doing it tbh. (This was also a lot longer then I planned for it to be- I just started typing and here we are- 1k)

He isn't confused about a lot of things in life but his feelings definitely stump him. He tries to analyze other people and how they react to people, but the dots just don't connect. He hears people rave on and on about how cute their crush is, but he just doesn't get it.

It's not that he hasn't been introduced to it either. I mean, it's middle school. Everyone is crazy about dating someone even if it's just to hold their stupid hand. Bakugo didn't get it, he honestly didn't want to get it. Sure he wanted to understand it, but only so he could know a weakness or some shit. He didn't want the gushy feelings or anything such.

Rejecting girl after girl was normal for him, people just loved how great he was. But after the first year of middle school that stopped. Mainly because of how rudely he rejected every girl in the past, but also because of you.

You got extremely close with him rather quickly, working your way into his life and friend groups. It was rare to see you away from each other.

Yet when you confessed to him in your last year of middle school, he stood still. It was the only confession he hesitated on. And while you swayed on your feet, anxious for a reply, he tried to cough up any words possible.

But the only ones that came out were. "You're not special."

In the most blunt way possible, he crushed your dreams. With the way he was looking at you, it was like he couldn't fathom the thought that you thought you were good enough for him, different than all the other girls. So you choked up any spiteful things you wanted to say and nodded before walking off.

He didn't necessarily like you then, but the thought didn't seems gross. So when he watched you walk away, he shrugged it off. You'd talk to him tomorrow definitely.

When tomorrow came and went, he was waiting for you to show up by his side at any second. But of course, you never did. You waited a day before showing up to class, but when you did you stuck near your other friends.

It stayed that way too. You only nodded at him after you finished middle school, a small final goodbye.

So it was rather unfortunate that one of your friends happened to be Izuku. It was a hard-built friendship, but he's very forgiving.

You came and visited the dorms often, encouraged by his mother to help him get by easier.

Bakugo hated it, you never even looked his way.

When he googled his feelings he didn't want to believe the words typed on his screen. It was all saying he was jealous. He'd never been jealous of anything, especially nothing Deku had.

Eventually, Kirishima pointed it out, commenting on the glare he was giving Midoriya. He also called him out the next day, when he kept glaring despite you not being there.

The day he cracked was after he fought Deku, after being yelled out by Aizawa he and Deku were told to wait.

Bakugo mentioned your name in a mumble at first before Deku questioned it. "She like you or some shit?"

"What?!"

"You fuckin' heard me," he spat back.

"No!" Deku scrambled for a reason. He knew you had a crush on Bakugo before, but you haven't mentioned it in a while, "Do you?"

"Do I like you?!"

"NO! HER!"

Bakugo's aggression faded as he thought. Everyone was saying that. Kirishima, his dad, and now Deku. He gave a small shrug because he was unsure.

"She still asks about you," Deku decided to say, rather than poke the bear.

"Hm."

"Wanting to know if you're okay. After the sludge, and after.. well you know," Deku mumbled.

The door opened before anything else could be said, but even if it didn't, they both knew the conversation was over.

Feeling the commonly named butterflies in his stomach, at just the thought of you thinking of him still, was odd. It was an entirely new feeling. After googling, once again, he came to terms with the fact that he finally felt all the gushy feelings that everyone else got in middle school. The ones you used to have for him, hopefully still do.

He still waited a year to act on his conclusion first. But he still slowly tried to weave his way back into your life. Choosing to sit next to you when you visited, to othering you the remote.

Everything was without words for a while. Almost a year in he was forced to talk to you often. All conversations being awkward and strained.

Confessing was a different story, it was the last day you could visit before it was officially summer break before the second year. Everyone was all sat around watching TV, people leaving before they got too tired. Surprisingly, Bakugo and you were the last people in the living room. He didn't want to miss a second of your presence because he knew he couldn't see you during summer. He was so glad Aizawa let you stay late.

His head snapped away from the TV when you stretched to stand, silently grabbing your stuff.

"What are you doing?" he spoke before thinking.

You looked stunned, he never talked to you without you talking first, "It's late, I should go. Plus is it not past your bedtime?"

He glared at your joke before looking at the clock. It was 2:54a.m, you asked him out at 2:54 p.m in middle school.

"Do you still?"

"What?" you switched your weight onto one foot, crossing your arms confused.

"In middle school," he sighed, "do you still?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Have feelings and shit."

He still wasn't looking at you, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could see how you froze.

"I don't know how that's relevant," you huffed, embarrassed and annoyed that he'd be so cruel to bring up the rejection again.

"I do."

"Do what? Know how it's relevent? Of course you do, it's your brain-"

"Have feelings and shit," he mumbled, crossing his arms at how irated you sounded. He was finally making his move and you seemed pissed as hell.

You barked out a laugh, muffling it with your own hand, "You can't think I'm that stupid, right?"

"I'm being serious," he looked at you straight on for the first time. He was always easiest to read when you could see his eyes, and he looked nervous. Out of all the emotions you've seen on him, this wasn't one.

"Oh."

He sighed and looked down, "Don't gotta say anything, you can spend the night in the common room. No one will care," he pushed himself off the couch, turning to leave.

"Bakugo," you called out softly.

"Hm?"

"I might," your voice was shaky, "but I need to think about it. Know that you're not fucking with me or something."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Take your time. You have my number."

[azfell-ajcrowley]

Something we didn't notice (part 2)

part 1

Overall, the meta is based on close observation of Aziraphale (for the most part) and Crowley. Without speculation or trying to guess what we haven't been shown (well, almost).

The Metatron makes it clear that he is watching Aziraphale delivering the "good news". Aziraphale looks back at him.

The first thing I'd like to explain. The Metatron is talking to Muriel, and then he stares at the window of the bookshop duplicating that gaze toward Crowley. The frame changes and we see Aziraphale looking out the same window, just for a second, but he will do it repeatedly.

As Crowley starts his monologue, Aziraphale tries to stop him by gesturing for him not to say too much, while looking out the window himself. Aziraphale continues to turn to the window with every meaningful attempt to speak.

Let's also note that Aziraphale doesn't usually behave in a similar way in conversations with Crowley. Yes, Aziraphale is characterised by active gesticulation, but the constant pauses, averting his eyes from the interlocutor, nervous and jerky movements - these are messengers that angel is holding something back, hiding or simply doesn't want to tell. Most often we see this Aziraphale in conversations with the leadership - God and Archangels.

https://commonmexicanname.tumblr.com/post/734305363759890432/good-omens-thoughts

Here's a prime example, comparing his interaction with Archangels when he's caught off guard and frantically trying to figure out how to get out of the situation.

I don't think Aziraphale is just lying to Crowley here, no. He just has an audience beyond Crowley. He tries to tell everything, knowing he has more than one viewer.

When Aziraphale mentions the Metatron, he is not just hinting, he points his index fingers - one at the window, another at Heaven, and then in a distinctly active quick motion once more at the WINDOW.

And again - turns his face to the window at the words about Gabriel failing, and then tilts his head towards the transparent panes of the bookshop.

The conversation with the Metatron is important, among other things, to assess Aziraphale's behaviour when Crowley is mentioned by his superiors. At the words about their partnership Aziraphale looks frightened: his facial muscles are tense, his forehead and eyebrows are furrowed, and there is a terror in his eyes.

When the God's spokesman concludes his really suspicious speech, Aziraphale swallows nervously and averts his eyes. He certainly doesn't look like someone who's been offered the fulfilment of his cherished dream. And not like someone who believes it.

Aziraphale looks like someone who has just found out what an enormous amount of incriminating information is in his opponent's possession.

"Tell me you said no. Tell me you said NO." Crowley is definitely shocked and horrified, he thinks the best of his angel. He can't believe what's going on (and he isn't supposed to).

Aziraphale turns his head towards the window again as an answer.

He actually said:

And

We see him right before he walks into the bookshop, he never says yes to the Metatron.

Aziraphale utters his most delusional words while looking out the window. Of course, they're not meant for Crowley. Aziraphale hasn't believed it for a long time, Crowley even more so.

And then Crowley says "Oh, God", without correcting himself afterwards, because this demon can only hope in God here.

For a second Aziraphale has a look of hope on his face that Crowley has realised what he's getting at. Then Aziraphale realises that Crowley is trying to confess. He's waited for so long not to realise. He was about to confess too.

Aziraphale already knows everything Crowley is about to tell him, but more importantly, literally everyone already knows it. It's impossible to stay and start pretending again that there's nothing between them.

Aziraphale has a completely blank stare past Crowley, and then he looks out the window. Again.

And then the most interesting thing happens. Crowley starts his line "And I would like to spend…" But he turns his head and finally looks out the window, where Aziraphale has been pointing so hard since the beginning of their conversation.

Maybe that's the reason Crowley doesn't complete the sentence. And he begins to pick up different words. Maybe not, maybe the sun from the outside is preventing him from seeing the Metatron.

In the final part of their conversation, when they move closer to the bookshop's door, Aziraphale looks towards the window again.

After "no nightingales" line he turns away to hide his feelings and pain.

The cherry on the cake is the kiss, Aziraphale is falling into the abyss. He averts his eyes trying to figure out if the Metatron could have seen what just happened.

When Crowley leaves, Aziraphale thinks he's lost him. But then, even when the Metatron walks in and says devaluing words about Crowley, Aziraphale can't tear himself away from the window, because now he can see Crowley there. Maybe not everything is lost.

Aziraphale retreats back to the clock - to the very spot where Crowley was standing a few minutes ago. He looks out the window at Crowley, as if to say, "I stand where you stood, you stand where the Metatron stood."

[emilybeemartin]

A whopping, like, 2.6 people have expressed interest in my recent adventures in watching Bean films, which is all the encouragement I need to present to you:

An Incomplete Guide to Sean Bean Roles (Investigation Ongoing)

Our guy has a vast filmography, and I'm not even close to being halfway through it, but I've watched a lot of his significant ones in the past few weeks thanks to a perfect storm of illness, injury, and lapses in client work. Crucially, I have created superlatives for a variety of them and present them here for your benefit. Disclaimer: many of these films are violent! Or have butts and/or tits! Some have dick! Some have dated bits that didn't age well! So, if you have triggers or are watching with young viewers, do your research first! Also, these are just the opinions of one solitary millennial! Nothing is objective! Nothing is real! I care not!

Okay, CYA done, let's begin. I'll get the two most obvious ones out of the way up front, otherwise they'll dominate half the categories:

ACT I

Greatest Bean: Fellowship of the Ring. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he achieved more pathos with Boromir than a lot of his other roles have allowed for, and every note he hits just sings. No debate.

Best Bean for Your Buck: Sharpe. For the best confluence of quantity, quality, physicality, emotion, humor, and action, you can't beat Richard Sharpe.

Favorite Dramatic Bean: Time; he earned that BAFTA fr

Softest Bean: The first date scene in Stormy Monday, where Brendan shyly gets to know Kate, slow dances with her, lends her a shirt and strokes her back after she asks if they can just go to sleep instead of have sex.

Most Dashing Bean: Vronsky in Anna Karenina, that uniform cuts, damn

Swooniest Bean: I know I'm supposed to say Chatterley, and he is undeniably sexy as Mellors, but there are parts where his character is actually kind of off-putting. I'll lay a good chunk of the blame on the weirdly ominous score, the very of-the-time depiction of dubious consent, and Joely Richardson's tendency to look like she's having the worst time of her life while shagging the hot gamekeeper. No, I'm giving this category to Stormy Monday again. He's just so gentle and genuine in this one, without some of the obligatory "heartthrob" overtones of his nineties stuff. He never raises his voice at Kate or manhandles her. He really does feel like some kid who just wants to be sweet to his girlfriend.

Laddiest Bean: When Saturday Comes, specifically the strip club and bathtub scenes.

Favorite Sad Bean: As a collective, he has some great grief scenes in World on Fire, but! The railroad track scene in When Saturday Comes?! That was RAW.

Favorite Mad Bean: Black Death; there are plenty of movies where he doesn't smile at all, but unlike some others, his grimness and anger felt proportionate to the story, rather than just rage because he's good at rage.

Favorite Bad Bean: There are so many great Bean villains (Goldeneye, obvs), but I think my favorite is Patriot Games. Bonus points for all the different hairstyles he has in this film (long locks-shag-shag ponytail!-buzz-wet spiky buzz). Also HUGH FRASER AAAA

Favorite Dad Bean: Wolfwalkers, where Bill Goodfellowe literally turns his own convictions and beliefs upside-down in order to protect and support his daughter.

INTERMISSION

A note on GoT: I haven't watched it. When season one was first coming out, it was during a time where I really couldn't handle watching any kind of sexual assault onscreen, and while I have a higher tolerance now, I just... don't want to. I like seeing gifs of Ned Stark and appreciate that it's one of his great roles, but I just can't make myself take the plunge.

ilysm you grizzled dead wolf man

ACT II

Favorite Costumed Bean: Odysseus in Troy: curls, leather, thighs.

Favorite Un-Costumed Bean: He strips in quite a lot of his films, so let's give it to Lady Chatterley for sheer screentime, exertion, and the bonus of being naked and wearing a flower crown. Honorable mention to When Saturday Comes for the totally not homoerotic amount of butts and also dick in the locker room bathtub scene.

Hurtin'est Bean: Bravo Two Zero. Oof, don't watch this one if you have an aversion to seeing pain, although---you're a Sean Bean fan, and we all know one of his MOs is being GREAT at pain. This one was directed by Tom Clegg, who directed Sharpe. Also lol at the sickle-shaped wound on his shoulder, which is covering his 100% Blade tattoo (he gets a lot of sickle-shaped wounds on his left shoulder).

Best Inside References: The Frankenstein Chronicles, where he plays a former Peninsular soldier, and every reference to his service is a reference to Sharpe, including shots of his greenjacket, pistol, sword, and flogging scars. Honorable mention to The Martian for the Council of Elrond line.

Most Unsettling Bean: Cleanskin for moral grayness, The Frankenstein Chronicles for body horror

Most Inefficient Use of Bean: Black Beauty. Despite getting high billing he's only onscreen for about two minutes and I'm convinced the long shots are a body double. Criminal.

Biggest Missed Opportunity: We were robbed of a Sean Bean Odyssey. R o b b e d

Funniest Bean: Deploying Bean for comedy is woefully underused, but he made full use of his ~15 seconds in The Vicar of Dibley ("Spring" episode). He's also hilarious in Wasted, though I haven't watched the show, only the clips he's in on YouTube, where he plays a mock version of himself serving as a spirit guide for a stoner. IMO, though, Sharpe gives him the most room for humor.

Favorite Character Quirk: In World on Fire, when Douglas is having WWI flashbacks and really coming apart, he kept putting his hand to his mouth. My modern brain first read this as talking into a phantom radio, but of course that wasn't right, and then I realized--he was reaching for a phantom gas mask. CHILLS. AMAZING. (Honorable mentions to the Mouth Rub and the Tongue Thing [pictured above]).

Most Nostalgic Bean: National Treasure. The concept may be utter silliness, but you have to admit, this is a fun movie to watch.

Best Dismount from a Horse: Henry VIII, he goes pshwing out of the saddle

Best Swordplay: You may think there's no possible answer to this, but there is---two moments, specifically: the preparatory sword-spin he does at Balin's tomb just before the goblin attack in Moria, and the four lunges he does at 1:26:22 of Sharpe's Battle. It's just facts.

Prettiest Bean Film: Wolfwalkers, hands downnnn

Favorite Bean Death: All right, you knew we had to eventually end here. It's Boromir, obviously--- nothing tops that. But if we're looking at other roles, I think Patriot Games is my favorite, followed by Goldeneye.

So! That concludes this installment of Bean films, though I'll be continuing the labor, and I hope you will, too. What are your favorites?

[appocalipse]

summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)

read part 1 here

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

Your head hurts.

Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.

"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."

Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.

You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.

Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.

"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"

Hold on a second...this is not your room.

You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.

Oh, Dear Lord.

Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."

You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.

"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."

"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."

"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."

Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."

"Kill me now."

"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"

You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.

"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.

He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.

"Mmhmm. You up for it?"

"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now." 

It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?

He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"

"No, I didn't."

"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."

"I am very much worried," you say miserably.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"

You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze. 

"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."

"Steve."

"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"

You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.

"You asked me if I—"

"I don't wanna know!"

"—would sleep in your bed with you."

"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."

"It was very adorable."

"I was drunk."

"Still. Cute."

You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."

Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.

"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."

A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.

"Do you...remember everything?"

You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.

"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"

You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic. 

"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."

Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."

"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."

You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.

"Steve?"

"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"

You hesitate.

The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...

You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.

Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"

"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."

"'That'?"

You purse your lips and Steve grins.

"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."

"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."

"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."

Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."

"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"

Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"

There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.

"Uh, I'm...confused."

"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."

"About your hair?"

"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."

"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."

Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.

"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"

You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.

"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."

You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.

"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."

You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"

"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.

He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.

You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms. 

"Ah! What—Steve!"

He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.

You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.

"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."

"A theory?"

He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.

"Wanna hear it?"

You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.

"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.

You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.

"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"

His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"

"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."

"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.

Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."

It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest. 

You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"

He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"

Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."

Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.

"M'sorry."

You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.

"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.

You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.

Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.

You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.

"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."

He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.

"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."

"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"

You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"

You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.

"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: dance macabre—ghost

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name

• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut

• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person

• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought makes him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own

• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."

• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."

• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you

• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile

• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."

• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands

• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin

• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."

• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"

• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding

𝐒𝐚𝐦

• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment

• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases

• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put

• "How'd you know that?"

• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."

• "Oh. Right"

• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it

• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"

• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."

• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again

• "Can I see it?"

• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions

• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"

• "Buddy, I have no idea."

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel

• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask

• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves

• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point

• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly

• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in

• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it

• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."

• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it

• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt

• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books

• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."

• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down

• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically

• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them

• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are skimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read

• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"

• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working

• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head

• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud

• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous

• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"

• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you

• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it

• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations

• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"

• Oh shit.

[shun-nie]

SatoSugu x reader

=>They can't reach you while you're on a mission.

—>a little angst to fluff

!!!!!swearing, gn!reader, mentions of death!!!!!

"Why did Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to Y/N anyway?" Satoru said as he frowned, you left early this morning and still didn't came back.

"Because Y/N always finishes their work smoothly, they always thinks logically and moves smart in missions." Suguru replies, he missed you too. He was also annoyed that Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to you but it was understandable why he did that. Suguru sighs, he and Satoru were sitting on a bench, sulking beacuse you're not here.

"I missed Y/N, Suguru. Why haven't they come back yet? The mission shouldn't be too hard for them right?" Satoru whined, it was so boring without you. And you always finished the missions quickly, plus you would call them if you were going to be late. Suguru frowned, what if something had happened to you? Sure you were strong and smart (pretty too) but anything could happen right?

Suguru immediately took his phone out of his pocket, went into his contacts and tapped your name. Satoru stopped whining and turned his gaze to Suguru, watching him get impatient as you didn't pick up. Suguru called you for the second time, after ringing a few times, he heard the message "the person you are calling cannot be reached at the moment, please try again later". Suguru looked at the phone screen, why weren't you picking up?

"They usually pick up the phone even if they're busy..." Satoru said quietly, he was thinking the worst scenario. Did you got hurt? Oh god. What if you did?

Suguru got up from the bench and looked at Satoru, Satoru undertood what he meant even if he didn't say anything. He stood up as well, they both walked off to find Yaga.

[meanwhile]

"Fuck, this shit hurts." you said as you clenched your fists, pressing a cloth over the bleeding wound. The mission went smoothly, there was two 1st grade curses. You got rid of them but then a special grade showed up, and there was a little girl in its hands. You had to save the child first, you did save the child and killed off the special grade but you were injured badly.

"Y-Y/N-san, please don't-please don't die!!!" the little girl cried out, tears running down her face. You panicked a little but calmed down.

"Hey, I won't die. Don't worry. I'm one of the strongests, y'know?" you grinned, you actually felt like shit and your head was hurting, there was a ringing in your ears, your phone was broken, you were bleeding from multiple spots. 'Fuck, I'll probably die.' you thought, guilty that you lied to the little girl.

"W-what do we do?! You'll die!!!" the little girl cried even louder, hugging your body close. Not wanting to let go. You sighed and pat her head, thinking of a way out.

"Say, what's your name?" you asked gently.

"Y-Yume..."

"Yume, that's a pretty name. Just like you." You said and smiled, Yume wiped her tears. Looking at you.

"Yume, can you find me a long stick?"

[...]

"Sensei, we have to look for them!! Let us leave!!

"I said no, Satoru. Y/N is strong, no need to worry about them."

Satoru clenches his teeth, clearly angry. Yaga refused to tell where you are and both Satoru and Suguru were worried about your safety. Sure, you were strong. There is no doubt in that, but you were still human and not an immortal. You could've die while they were sitting on a bench doing literally nothing. Suguru frowned at the idea of you dying alone, he wouldn't want that. You didn't deserve that.

Yaga couldn't reach you too, you didn't pick up his calls either. He was worried too, but he knew you were strong and believed that you would manage to get the work done.

"Sensei, we know Y/N is strong. But that doesn't change the fact they can get hurt." Suguru said, trying to remain calm. Yaga looked at them and opened his mouth to talk but Haibara opened the door harshly, he had a scared look on his face. Satoru and Suguru shared a look before looking at Haibara, Yaga was about to scold him for not knocking but he got silent as his eyes widened at Haibara's words.

"SENSEI!!! Y/N-SAN CAME INJURED, THEY'RE NOT BREATHING!!!!"

[...]

"..-/N...!"

".Y/-....!"

"Y/N!!"

"..The hell do you want? Don't scream in my ear you dumb fuck..." you said with a tired tone and opened your eyes slowly. Blinking multiple times to adjust the lights.

You saw 2 familiar faces when you opened your eyes, then you sense that there are 3 people in the room. All the eyes on you.

"Glad to see you're the same even if you came back from death." you heard Shoko's voice, she sound tired. And her voice was hoarse, did she cry?

You tried to process what had happened for a few seconds, and when you remembered what had happened, you immediately sat up in bed. Your head, throbbing as you did so. Suguru and Satoru were looking at you with concerns, Satoru probably cried as his eyes were red. Oh. Oh shit.

"Yume...Where is Yume? Is she okay?" You asked quickly, turning your gaze to Shoko, she sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, there was not even a scratch on her body. She's sleeping in your room." Shoko said and got silent for a moment before talking again.

"You almost died and you're not even worried about yourself..?" Shoko said quietly. You sighed and let Suguru lay you down on the bed.

"I'm sorry. The special grade just showed up, I couldn't just left Yume to it's hands." you replied quietly, "Sorry..." You said again. Suguru kissed your forehead, he was holding your hand as your other hand was being held by Satoru. Shoko walked over to your bed and kissed your cheek, it hurted to see you in this position.

"Just rest, yeah? Don't worry much about it." she said and walked towards the door, leaving the room to smoke her stress off. You were left with Satoru and Suguru, Satoru was resting his head on your stomach as he played with your fingers. Suguru was stroking you hand with his thumb, probably think of which words he should say.

"Satoru, Suguru. I'm sorry I worried you both." You said, not looking at them. Satoru pulled his chair closer to your bed, kissing the side of your lip softly before grinning. Teasing you about how depressed you sound, you teased back telling he looks as depressed as you. Suguru watched you both and smiled to himself.

He was glad you didn't left them.

.

.

.

[restinslices]

okay chat maybe him like getting jealous

Assuming you’re the anon who asked about Spooky

Him this episode >>>>>>>>>>

I've seen posts before about Spooky and people say he'd pull out a gun and start swearing when he's jealous and really show his ass but honestly? I don't think that's accurate 

I haven't watched OMB in a hot minute and Netflix is being some hoes rn so forgive me if I'm wrong but wasn't he incredibly patient?

He was patient with Cesar and with Cesar’s friends. I don't recall him ever losing his temper and going insane besides season 4 when he heard people fucking shit up outside 

Spooky gives me the silent jealous type. Silent but also petty 

Like if you came back to him after talking to a guy he'd say some petty shit like “thought you'd be around him all day”

“That's your man now, right?” “Stop being childish”

You could tell when he's jealous though cause you'd feel him staring at you the whole time 

I could also see him clearing his throat loud as hell if you're nearby to both get your attention and introduce him to whoever it is you're talking to 

It's gotta be a guy he doesn't know cause realistically what Santo is dumb enough to flirt with you?

I feel like I'm expected to say he'd have this huge outburst but Oscar doesn't give me that vibe. He's pretty patient and I think especially if y'all have been together for an extended amount of time, he'd feel secure enough to know you won't do some foul shit 

I feel like someone touching you would cause him to immediately get involved. He'd walk over and physically take their hand off of you while pulling you closer to him or behind him 

And let's be real, no one is dumb enough to try shit with him. He's 6’1 and known as the leader of the Santos 

But if someone did try him because they're drunk or whatever, I feel that even though he's jealous he'd still put your safety first. His jealousy would go to the back of his mind and he'd try to get you out in case shit gets intense 

Another situation he'd step in is if you're visibly uncomfortable. Typically if someone's flirting with you, he knows you can handle it but if you're so obviously uncomfortable then he'd step in and get you away 

I feel like if you're dating Oscar your safety would go over everything so while he's still a man and wants to play all big and bad in whoever's face, getting you away is his biggest priority 

“Are you jealous?” “Should I be?” “No” then he'd nod or smth 

Now let's say you're hanging around a new guy a lot. Would he get jealous? Probably. He's a guy. 

This is a different situation ‘cause he's not seeing anything. He can't pull you away. What does he do?

Short answer; nothing. Long answer; he doesn't seem like the type to be so jealous he'd snoop on your phone or follow you because relationships require trust and if you caught him, you'd be upset. I could see him asking questions about the guy and then denying he's jealous ‘cause “I have nothing to be jealous about”

And it's like??? Are you telling me  that or telling yourself that? 

Over time it'd become obvious he's feeling a certain way. You'd say you're gonna hang out with whoever the guy is and he'd just make a “mmm” sound instead of actually responding 

“Something wrong?” “I didn't say anything” “Exactly”. Eventually it'd come out though 

And the idea of him flirting with someone else to make you jealous comes up but I don't think that'd happen. He hardly has any relationships besides his gang which means he hardly has any close relationships. He has the kids, who he's like an older brother too (or literally an older brother to) and Mario (and we don't know how much they interact) so I don't see him risking a relationship just to be on petty shit 

He'd say smth petty but flirting with someone else just as payback for some shit you can't control? Nah

You could probably calm him down easily just by being near him. Making jokes about him being jealous would help also because it's you acknowledging that you see how he feels without having a sappy ass conversation 

I feel like this is so anticlimactic and disappointing but realistically I don't see him flipping his shit. He's 19-25, which could make him a bit immature but 1) he's grown up quickly so I think he can handle his emotions. 2) He has two strikes already. He's not popping his shit and risking life in prison because he was jealous. And 3) he knows you know where home is. 

He gets jealous, sure, but all those reasons stacked together makes him act calm, only getting somewhat aggressive if someone is touching you or making you uncomfortable. He’s more petty than anything

Quick story time. So I got away from my abusive dad when I was 13-14, right. I was also obsessed with Spooky. Tell me why my therapist said “I think you love him so much because he’s a strong and scary guy and in your head he’d protect you if your dad came back for you”. The way I almost blocked her-

I’m still seeing her years later😃

[disneyprincemuke]

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[wilwheaton]

favorite goncharov character

Goncharov! Holy shit I haven't thought about Goncharov in YEARS!

I remember seeing it at the Vista theatre downtown in ... I want to say 1983? It was either 82 and I was 10, or 83 and I was 11. Now that I think about it, it must have been Spring of 83. I remember that Kimmy Mendini was my babysitter, and she drove my friend Ahmed and me all the way downtown to see Goncharov. She would have been at least 16, but I feel like she was a little older. I remember that she LOVED movies and just never stopped talking about European cinema.

Ha! I can still her her sort of roll "Cinema" out of her mouth. Movies were for the masses to watch, while sophisticated adults experienced Cinema. I'm just realizing now that she absolutely pronounced it with a capital C. She was like "you are so lucky to see a clean print of Goncharov!"

I had no idea what a clean print was, but I understood it was important and impressive.

She had read about this screening in the LA Weekly, which I didn't know at the time was TREMENDOUSLY subversive in our suburban part of Los Angeles County, and we were going to an old theatre in maybe not the greatest part of town, but Kimmy had been watching me since I was in second grade and was like my big sister. I knew we'd be safe with her.

That old theatre (which is now a fucking swap meet) was just so beautiful inside. 100 foot ceilings, box seats, gold paint and murals. It felt like a place you went to experience Cinema, but, like ... it had absolutely seen better days. I remember that I felt kind of bad for the place, a little embarrassed, like when I got a good grade and accidentally made eye contact with a friend who got a D.

Okay. This clearly hit a memory artery, and I appreciate you staying with me this far, when we finally get to the fireworks factory. We're walking up to the box office, and she tells Ahmed and me that we have to wait on the sidewalk, because *technically* it's rated R, and she's not our legal guardian, but what does this guy making two bucks an hour know about art anyway?

So we wait. She buys the tickets, and then we all walk in as casually as we can.

I remember how scared I was that we were going to get caught and they'd call the cops (that's how it worked in my anxiety-ridden brain), but literally nobody cared. The theatre wasn't even half full, and everyone there was a dude at least as old as my parents.

You know the story, so I don't have to recount all of it, but I can at this very moment remember how shocked I was when Bruno was shot. This was the first time, ever, I had felt an emotional connection to a character. I didn't cry when Bambi's mother was shot, I didn't cry when ET died, I didn't cry E V E R.

But when Bruno died? I didn't make a sound. I just silently wept. Tears just poured down my face and I wanted to roll back time, rewrite the movie, and get him out of that room.

I obviously understand now, all these years later why I connected to him and why his story meant and means so much to me, but at the time I had no idea. I just thought the actors were that good.

I can't believe that guy who played him died so young. I think he was like 40? I remember thinking that was old. Now I know different.

When the movie was over, Kimmy asked us how we liked it. Ahmed was obsessed with the photography (he grew up to be an illustrator), and I obviously had my Bruno Moment.

We got Thrifty ice cream on the way home and listened to Donna Summer in her Datsun.

I haven't thought about Goncharov or Cinema or Kimmy in FOREVER. Leave it to Tumblr to boost my nostalgia check to a natural 20.

tl;dr: Bruno. I know he's supposed to be that character we all hate, and there are so many valid reasons for that. But when I was 12 ... well, I was a different person.

Oh! And now that I know what a "clean print" is, having seen so many "dirty prints" in revival houses before they all turned into swap meets or churches (hey, two places where people sell you stuff and take your money!), I retroactively appreciate it in a way that would make Kimmy happy.

Thanks for the trip into the crumbling mall that is my childhood memories. I haven't been here in awhile and it was nice to visit.