#baller jacket

[lupinshanshin]

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

some iconic finds from the thrift store today

(specific shoutout to butterfly bones. wild take on anatomy.🦋🦴)

[lacilou]

The Jacket That Wrecked Me, A Story Of How Jensen Ackles Became a Cheeky Bastard (Excuse me, Sir.)

Credit to the photographers

[intertexts-moving]

GM!!!!!!!!

[myqualities]

Source: http://daniel-patrick.tumblr.com

[stormbreaker-290]

Ough I'm going to a neighbor's birthday party, imma a be offline for few hours :P

[kalique]

i like summer weather (when it’s not hot enough to fucking kill me) and going to the beach and whatnot but i hate not being able to wear jackets. i’m not me if i‘m not in a jacket

[httpsai]

long smutt where paige is needy but you wont touch her until she shows you her touching herself and shes shy at first but gives in

dream- p. bueckers

!! - not short!! Dancer!reader, english isn’t my first language

!! - smut, sub!paige, masturbation, wet dreams, no pre-established relationships, giving enemies with benefits, paige cums quickly, thigh riding

Paige exclaims, sitting up sharply as she looks around her room.

Her roommate stays sleeping through the noise, and Paige only has one thought going through her brain:

You.

After months of convincing herself that she and the dancer were not in any way, shape, or form, friends, the girl is still the first thing Paige thinks of when she awakens from her nightmare.

That’s right, the big bad Paige Bueckers has bad dreams.

Paige gets out of bed, pulling your black oversized jacket over her purple shirt.

Your purple shirt.

Paige shakes her head.

Stop thinking about her.

She slides on her slippers nonetheless, making sure to check her appearance in the mirror.

do my braids look okay? should i take them out? does she even want to see me? do-

Paige takes a second before opening her door and doing anything but running down the hall and to your room.

She doesn’t bother to knock, instead pushing the door open and going to stand in the middle of the dancer’s room.

“P?”

You look up from your book, warily staring at the blonde haired girl, who’s arms are crossed.

“I- I thought you might want me here.” Paige starts. “You know, with your night terrors and all.”

She whispers the last part.

“My night terrors?”

Paige looks down at her feet. “This is the part where you invite me to lay in your bed with you.”

You trie to hide your smirk, closing your book and putting it on your bedside table as you stand up.

Crossing the room, you close your door before walking to Paige. You take her jacket off of the blonde, throwing it to a corner of the room.

You place your hand on Paige’s lower back, leading her over to the bed.

Paige lays down, pressing herself against the wall, giving you as much space as she can.

You lay down as well, and it’s silence for a few minutes.

“Y/N?” Paige finally whispers.

You ley out a quiet sigh, thankful.

“Yeah?”

“Are you awake?”

“Who the fuck do you think just said ‘yeah?’”

Paige turns on her side, facing you, who doesn’t even try to hide your smirk.

“This wasn’t about ‘my’ night terrors, was it?”

Paige doesn’t dare move.

“What happened, P?”

don’t tell her don’t tell her don’t tell her don’t tell her don’t don’t don’t don’t-

“I’m the lamest baller to ever exist.”

Your gaze softens, and you wrap an arm around Paige, who tenses as you pulls her closer.

“Paige,” You whisper, “can I tell you a secret?”

Paige is certain you can hear her heartbeat getting faster.

You smile softly. “you’re my most favorite baller to ever exist.”

Crickets.

Paige has to admit that she’s a bit disappointed.

“Oh. Well, thank you, I guess. goodnight.” She deadpans, turning around so you can’t see her sad expression.

You laugh though, pulling the blonde against your chest, easily spooning her.

Paige’s heart races as you slip her hand under her shirt, your fingers drawing patterns on Paige’s stomach.

You smirk at the sound of Paige’s soft sigh, and the next time you look over to check on the girl, her eyes are closed.

For the first time in a very long time, Pauge Bueckers falls asleep with a smile on her face.

———————————————ʚɞ———————————————

Sleep doesn’t last long.

Paige wakes up from another dream, although this time, not a bad one.

She feels you shift behind her, and freezes.

“P?”

The girl keeps quiet, peeling your hand off of her body before the you can notice the wet patch on her sweatpants.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Paige asks.

“Yeah, of course.”

The blonde girl is quick to get out of the bed, running to the bathroom and quickly shutting the door.

Your head snaps up when you hear Paige’s frustrated groan.

It’s obvious that the basketball player doesn’t actually use the restroom, as there are no telltale… sounds.

Paige exits the small room a number of minutes later, and gets back in the bed quickly.

You wrap her hand around Paige’s waist once again, pulling the girl’s shirt up even higher to continue the doodles on her skin.

Paige’s breath hitches when your hand ventures lower, now playing with the hem of her sweatpants.

“Were you dreaming about me, baby?” The dancer asks, her breath hot against Paige’s neck.

don’t tell her don’t tell her you don’t have to tell her anything lie lie lie lie lie-

“Yes.” Paige uses all of her power to make her voice not waver.

A victorious smirk appears on your face.

If you told Paige Bueckers six months ago that she’d be having wet dreams about Y/N L/N, she would have laughed in your face.

“Yeah? What was the dream about?”

You hold in a laugh as your hand slips under the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants.

You tuck your leg in between Paige’s, your thigh pressing against her crotch.

“Sorry,” you smile innocently, “just getting comfortable.”

Paige sighs. “In my dream, I felt good. And not like the good i feel after making a basket.” She hints embarrassedly.

You smile. “What was making you feel good?”

don’t tell her get out leave leave leave stop being pathetic leave leave lea-

“You.” Paige breathes out.

“Yeah? And why were you getting mad in the bathroom?”

don’t tell her leave leave leave you’re an addams stop being weak leave leave leave-

“I- I couldn’t do it.”

“Do what?” You ask in mock confusion.

“I couldn’t feel good again.” Paige mumbles, “I tried everything.”

You tsk in her ear.

“Oh yeah? What did you try?”

Paige is so deep in thought that she doesn’t notice your hands gripping her hips, slowly rocking her back and forth.

well, there’s no stopping now.

“I- I tried the corner of your sink, an- and I tried using my fingers, like how you did in my dream, but I couldn’t- it didn’t-“

Paige cuts herself off with a broken moan as you flex your thigh.

“Y/N- pl- please keep-“

You smirk, rocking Paige faster against your thigh.

“You like that, honey? Do you feel good?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, good, feels good.”

Paige gasps when you slip your hand under her sweatpants, rubbing her through her boxers.

Paige quickly helps take her sweatpants off, but whines when you pull away, sitting up.

You giggle at her pout. You lean against the headboard, watching Paige sit desperately in front of you. “Show me.”

“I— what?”

“Show me what I was doing to you. Show me, and I’ll touch you.” You cross your arms.

Paige’s legs seem to spread automatically, showing off the wet spot on her boxers. She brings her middle finger lower, pressing on the wet spot softly.

You smirk, watching her hips jerk.

“Yeah, that’s right. Go ahead and get yourself off.”

Paige tugs down her boxers, revealing her sopping cunt in all of its glory. She hasn’t shaved, but you can still see her engorged clit peeking out of her fat lips.

“Fuck.” You breathe, and Paige moans. She presses down on her clit softly, and starts to rub it. Her other hand spreads her folds, and you watch her pussy clench around nothing.

Paige whimpers, slipping a finger inside of herself. “I— I’m gonna—“

“Cum,” you whisper, and she does.

Paige’s head falls back, her hips jerking and her thighs tensing as she moans out, grasping at her tits. She rides it out, lazily thrusting her finger inside of herself and staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Lay down.” You say, moving to hover over her. “It’s my turn.”

[lenacosse]

hiii !!! could you please write about jake peralta, preferably smut with a dominant reader?:)

Successful

pairing: jake peralta x fem reader

cw: smut, dominant reader

wc: 1,541

a/n: hope you enjoy this, for anyone who’s left requests please bare with me. im writing here and there, ive been preoccupied and struggle to find motivation, ive rosa diaz, amy santiago, another jake fic and a james potter fic to come plus any other requests i have coming soon i hope :)

‘i just got some real good news from work boy

you can’t imagine what i’m bout to say

it’s so hard to hold back, baby

i’m so excited i can hardly wait’

════════════════

You nervously fix your skirt for the fifth time, smoothing it over obsessively trying to perfect your appearance. You knew it wasn’t going to change the outcome of your meeting but nevertheless here you were, panicking over the subtle crease of your skirt.

“(Y/L/N)?” Called out the friendly face of the sectary, “Mr Jones will see you now.”

You nod and stand up, you take a shaky breath and continue down the familiar path to your bosses office. Usually you were so confident, so sure of yourself yet this was no average meeting. This meeting would determine your future. You reach his office and frantically wipe your sweaty palms on your jacket in attempt to dry them, once semi satisfied you knock and open the door.

“(Y/N) please have a seat,” Mr Jones smiles, motioning to the seat. You sit down. “Im going to cut to the chase here, you are an excellent contributor to our team.”

“Thank you.”

“These last four years I’ve seen a real shift in our overall work environment, clientele, partners, work ethic and most importantly inner work relationships.” He smiles and gets out a piece of paper. “I’m not offering you the standard promotion. I’m appointing you head of department, this will be a rather enormous change but I see potential in you. You are the heart of my company and it’s about time you get praised.”

You heart has practically stopped at this point, never did you ever see yourself in such a role. It took all your willpower not to crack into an obnoxious smile that broke all professional expectations, instead you politely thanked him and signed your new contract. Getting to your car was a blur, but here you now sit in the parking lot grinning like an idiot. Of course the only reasonable thing to do was call your boyfriend.

“Hey baby, hope I’m not interrupting.” Your voice sounds.

“Nah, perfect timing just done a huge drug bust now we’re on our way back to the precinct.”

“Well done, who you with?”

“Rosa,”

“Hey,” a third voice said, you instantly recognised it as Rosa.

“Hi Rosa,”

“You had your interview right?” Jake asked, diverting the conversation.

“I did,”

“Well? Tell me.”

“I got some real good new. However it’s a surprise.”

“Oh come on! Tell me I want to know already,”

“You really wanna know? You’ll have to wait.”

“Fine. When are you telling me?”

“Tonight. Come straight from work,”

“Cool cool cool. See you then.”

“Bye.”

You end the call and drive back to home, you felt out of this world. Being so young and successful never felt so good, you were undoubtedly a baller.

════════════════

By the time Jake got off work you cleaned your apartment and got real dressed up. After all tonight was no ordinary night, you finish the last of your glass of wine as your buzzer goes. In an instant you buzz Jake in and wait by the door. The door opens and there he stands, wine and flowers in hand. You couldn’t control the shit eating smile that spread across your face.

“Hey you,” you stepped aside to let him in.

Jake handed you the flowers and placed a kiss to your cheek. “So… tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“Is that so?” You wink and make your way to the kitchen, placing your flowers into a vase.

“Yes.” Jake’s arms wrap around your waist pulling you into him, his warm breath on your neck makes you shudder.

“How badly do you want to know?”

“So badly baby, need to spoil you.”

You smirk and turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands naturally falling to your hips.

“You’re looking at the head of department.”

“Head of department?! That’s great. I’m so proud of you.” Jake gushed, the act making your cheeks flush.

“I get to boss people around.” You grin, biting your lip.

“Bet you’ll love that.” Jake teases.

“I will, but it’s just that.” You dramatically frown. “I need more practice.”

“Really?” He pulls you closer.

You kiss at his neck, sucking softly on the skin before licking a stripe to his jawline and moving to his ear.

“I think I lead you into my bedroom.” You whisper.

“I think that’s a good idea.” His voice soft and gentle.

You take his hand and lead him into your bedroom. In an instant you push him against the wall and begin to undo his shirt, after removing it you go back to his neck peppering kisses all over.

“Get onto the bed Peralta,” you order, your voice dripping with demand. Of course he obliges and sits on your bed.

You smirk and make your way to him, you straddle him and run your hand through his tousled hair. You slowly rock your hips, grinding up against him. A soft whimper comes from him.

“You’ve been so supportive, and so good to me. I’m going to treat you so well.” You whisper.

Jake looks at you, his expression was one you’ve never seen before. So utterly love stricken and submissive for you, the expression itself was enough to get you going but you had to regulate yourself. You press your lips to his, kissing him passionately as your tongues danced together. Slowly you pulled back and stroked his cheek before getting off his lap, you took a second to look at his lap, you bit your lip at the sight of his hard-on. You undone the zipper on your dress and dropped it to the floor revealing your lacy underwear and matching bralet.

“You’re so perfect,” Jake said as his hand reached out to bring you back.

You straddled him again and pushed him flat against the bed. You moved with him and groaned as he caressed your ass and thighs, the heat building between your thighs. You attached your lips to his collarbone, not holding back from marking him. This solidified your presence, the idea of him being yours was enough to cure your problems. You got off Jake’s lap and kneeled beside him, you undone his belt and he kicked off his trousers. You bit your lip at the sight before you, through his boxers you could see his very hard dick begging to be released. You palmed him through the fabric watching as his face contoured in pleasure.

“Please baby..”

“Please what? Need to talk Peralta.”

“Please use your mouth,”

You smirked in response and pulled off his boxers, his needy cock aggressively swinging out. Slowly you put your lips to his tip, you took half of him in your mouth and very slowly moved your head. You swirled your tongue gently over his tip then pulled back.

“Tell me how much you need me.” You teased as you slowly stroked his base, gentle moans falling from his mouth in response.

“I need you so bad, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Thinking about how much- mmm, I want your mouth on me, or how much I need to feel you around me.”

“Is that right?” You taunt, your voice thick with a tone of seduction. Your hand got faster around Jake, pleasuring him more and more by the second.

“Yes- fuck. That’s right- need you so bad.” His voice was a straight moan, a moan which you couldn’t help but be desperate for.

You lowered your head again and wrapped your lips around him, you hollowed your cheeks and moved your head. Doing exactly what he likes, his hands held your hair- only encouraging you further. His moans got more desperate and breathless indicating he’s close. You pulled back and sat up right. You took your remaining clothes off and straddled him again. Your lips went to his as your hand went into his hand. The other guided his cock to your entrance. You slid down on him and immediately started moving, you gripped his hair letting curses of pleasure escape your lips as you gripped onto the headboard. You looked down to Jake who’s eyes were full of pure pleasure and bliss, his desperate moans filled the room as did the sound of your bed hitting the wall.

“You feel so good,” you moaned, sending a chain of praises to your sex-drunk boyfriend. You rocked your hips faster the pleasure building increasingly as you chased that feeling.

You gripped the headboard with both hands as your whole body shook in pleasure. Your vision was spotting and your mind was foggy, the only thing registering was the ecstasy you were feeling. The coil tightened even further until you came with a deafening moan, Jake was right after you gripping your hips as his breath shuddered. Slowly you climbed off him and lay beside him. You looked at him, taking in his beauty, his eyes were glassy and his lips were swollen.

He turned to you with a bashful smile, “get promoted more often.”

You rolled you eye not fighting off the grin that was cracking through, you moved into him resting your head on his chest as your hands stroked his hair. Nothing but contentment overcame you, Jake was home to you and on days like this where there’s happiness there’s no one you’d rather share it with.

[kiryoutann]

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀! 𝐀𝐔 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ::: 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 "𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓" 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING MASTERLIST. CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST.

Ballerina! reader, who focus too much on technical perfection rather than the artistic value of the performance.

Ballerina! reader, who was chosen to be the prima ballerina for Swan Lake.

And ballerina! reader, who is nicknamed a "robot-ballerina" from how she has no "soul". Whispers say you've sold it to the devil. So, how can a soulless ballerina play Odette and Odile well, then?

The director said, "Fall in love, my darling! That's your way to touch Odette! To stop being soulless."

But, little did he know, that ballerina! reader do not fall in love.

Ballerina! reader who meets Simon under the awnings of a bankrupt cafe, in the middle of the nasty storm of London.

Big, over-six-foot guy, in a black leather jacket that did little to hide the width of his shoulders. At first, you're pretty intimidated - is he going to kidnap you?

Ballerina! reader, who follows Simon to the pub to shelter from the rain. "No sense waiting in the wet," he said in his heavy accent.

Ballerina! reader, who is quite awkward with people—only having one or two people she could consider friends - your mother counts. You end up giving out your real name and address in your attempt to create a topic, thinking he'll take advantage of the stupidity.

Simon didn't. Luckily, Simon didn't. He is a pretty quiet guy, doesn't use his big stature for bad things.

The night you met, you and him talked about small things. Your job, his job – turn out he's in the military—somehow that wasn't surprising; Maybe you've long been judging by his slightly crooked nose (definitely has been broken several times), and the old scars around his jaws when he takes off his mask to take a sip of whatever he ordered.

Despite his height and build, Simon was anything but dangerous. It's natural for you to hope to see him again, right?

And when the second meeting comes, you invite him to your house. Something about it screams stupidity, vulnerability - danger.

But, how can he do all that when he holds you tightly like a good lover? As if full of love as he placed his lips on yours, tracing every inch of your skin as if in worship.

Laid bare, you are. With your pleading love-me eyes—the gaping mouth of a virgin begging for someone to pour love into it until it hits the back of her throat, swallowed without a trace – “let me wash my esophagus with this. So that my future lovers don't find out how unlovable I am.”

Ballerina! reader, who is starved for touch and love.

And when the third meeting arrived, you've gone too deep to pull away.

Ballerina! reader, who loosens her strings, only to sever them completely. Boundaries and lines begin to blur without you realizing it.

What started out as just giving him your phone number—“in case you or I need each other to… you know,”—then a text or two more when he was “away,” then a call, then a habit of receiving random texts and pictures (him feeding a cat on deployment, you and your calluses, Simon not understanding why you bought new pointe shoes just to break them, the scarecrow that reminds him of you and your tutu), and the new “why didn’t you call me when you were away?” protest when he went completely radio silent in this new deployment.

Ballerina! reader, who has the determination to embody Odette - "Fall in love, my darling! That's your way to touch Odette! To stop being soulless" and chooses Simon, of all people, to fall in love with.

Ballerina! reader, who ends up falling in love with Simon-fucking-Riley, the owner of the most despicable heart a man has ever had.

Ballerina! reader who thought she could keep this casual (as Simon wanted), and ended up confessing her love in the end.

Ballerina! reader, who then realizes what a grave mistake that was. How stupid she was to put her heart first as if it were important, as if she hadn't spent her whole life ignoring it.

Ballerina! reader, who immediately noticed the difference in Simon’s expression and behavior. The man stretched his long legs in wide strides as he gathered his few belongings from his apartment, saying “that wasn’t our deal, love,”

Ballerina! reader, pathetically crying, begs Simon to keep her in his life, not to cut her off—to stay. She promises, vows, not to say she loves him; that Simon could come and go as he pleased as long as he wouldn't leave her forever.

But, he left anyway.

Ballerina! reader, who finds Simon leaving with another woman in his arms a few days after. Beautiful, confident, and not you.

And yes! Yes, you have succeeded in embodying Odette, Odile too! But, at what cost? Your defense: art is created from the blood of the artist. And yet, good God, how long will you have to bleed? He wasn't here to see this performance, to see the scars that he probably thought were some kind of tapestry.

Simon, who turned down Soap's invitation to go to the pub after the mission, says he has "some play about swans" ticket to use; the Scot scoffs, saying he never thought his big, bad, Lt. would be interested in ballet.

Simon came to your big performance. Straight from the airport after returning from a long deployment.

Swan Lake. That ballet he never understood, but he knew the story line and remembered how your eyes lit up when you told it over and over to him while being in his embrace.

You know those letters they force soldiers to write to people back home just in case they don't make it back?

Ballerina! reader, who thought she was worth nothing to Simon, but after years of not writing letters (because he had no one to receive them), the first letter he wrote was to you.

Simon who thinks you deserve better than him, doesn't know that despite everything, even the better one doesn't mean anything if it's not him.

Simon thought, all the love he had - no matter how big or deep, it was worth nothing.

But, unfortunately that doesn't change the fact that in his wild fantasies about a kinder world, you are the only one he wants. He doesn't believe in the Apocalypse, but sure as hell you'll be the one next to him as the Earth runs to the ground.

Perhaps, he’s too young to keep good love from going wrong.

What was it all for? A punishment? A penance? The need to always keep himself away from the good things in life, to continue to believe that he was created to be bitter and sour. Alone. Miserable.

He knows no end in desiring you, neither does his self-sabotage.

And when he saw you on that stage, his mind kept repeating "it's worth it, it's worth it" that he did this all for you, for the best. But, in fact, this is all just a sick tendency to remain rough, to suffer.

In the end, you and Simon are just two liars on display like show dogs.

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[brainrockets]

The fashion and lewks in the third chapter of Candela Obscura feels like it was (like many of the things Aabria helms) specifically designed in a lab to light up very specific parts of my brain. (Mostly the gay parts tbh).

Like what in the Kate Hepburn, 90s Mummy, Miss Fisher, 30s fashion hell Aabria? All of the bisexual millennials are in terrible horny danger. Just being all tall rocking a high waisted wide leg trouser all louche and slouchy?

All that gold to Distract from the stabbity stab about to go down?

Also, did you steal Imhotep's jacket? Cool cool cool.

And that's JUST AABRIA! Idk. If I die, I die.

Total baller shit. Even before you presumably take the references and tropes and make them your bitch.

[kittenintheden]

mad respect to everyone who puts Astarion in a hot-ass brocade jacket so he looks baller as hell but in my heart he's always in a linen camp shirt cuffed to the elbows

[melodiousoblivionao3]

Croix Bethune wore that Cactus Jack jacket last night and I’ve only seen incredible ballers wear that so she’s basically next in line for the Ballon D’Or

[clash-of-the-wizards]

CLASH OF THE WIZARDS ROUND 1-B BOUT 7

TAAKO TAACO (The Adventure Zone) VS ADAINE ABERNANT (Dimension 20: Fantasy High)

Propaganda under the cut!

PROPAGANDA

TAAKO TAACO "his boyfriend is death and they have cats together"

"The multiverse's greatest transmutation wizard, he saved all of reality by making a baller taco and also he's dating the grim reaper."

"he's a little shit he's loyal to his friends he would doom the world for his sister he's dating an agent of Death he had a cooking show"

ADAINE ABERNANT "She’s the best divination wizard in the world by her freshman year of high school! She has anxiety! She killed the lunch lady on her first day in public school, and feels really bad about this! She punched her abusive father with magic fists so hard that he died! She has an extremely spherical magical frog! Sometimes that frog is an owl, who is also extremely spherical! She has a magical jacket which has an entire society living in the pockets, and this is never explored further!"

"Magic is real and so is her frog."

[myqualities]

Source: http://neversaynevernick.tumblr.com

[catchyhuh]

rainy days

this started as “what do i think they’d each grab to keep dry” and then that morphed into why would that be entertaining by itself. get into it get into opinions and and shit of whether or not somebody likes rain. so here we aaaare!

lupin:

lupin the third is an unstoppable, insane, hardened criminal. no he doesn’t need something to cover himself from the rain. bwuuhhh but its really cold now that he’s here and he can already feel himself getting sniffly from the air pressure and he would heal up if only he had somebody waaarrmmm and cozyyyyy and maybe only partially clooooothed,

it’s not like it BOTHERS him bothers him, but he’s not big on rain, or snow for that matter. if nothing’s going on, it’s fine, no biggie, but precipitation fucks with plans dude, and if you need to weigh down the back of the car to keep it less likely to hydroplane YOU’RE GONNA WANNA KNOW THAT AHEAD OF TIME!!

he usually spends rainy days, uh, kind of the same as he always does when he’s just got a day inside the hideout, y’know? just hanging out, doing whatever. the weather doesn’t really affect his energy too much, and he’s not looking out windows too much unless he’s expecting something/has a reason to be suspicious, sooo. just another day!

jigen:

well. he. already has a hat on. but aside from that, if it’s REALLY pouring down miserable, he’ll just tuck his arms out of his jacket and lift it over his head. just as good!

jigen isn’t big on rain. i mean it’s not like he bothers getting MAD over it, it’s-- it’s rain. he can’t do anything about it either way man but if you asked him “would you rather go out on a sunny day or a rainy day” he’d be like. sun’s too bright rain’s too wet. cloudy for me man. and what are you gonna do? argue the man?

jigen very much falls victim to the “it’s raining really hard outside and i bet a nap would be baller right now” phenomenon, but that’s not too unique considering that if he’s comfortable enough he can nap damn near anywhere. can he SLEEP easily? no, but he can nap like nobody’s business. just only for 30 minute increments. no wonder he’s always so cranky

fujiko:

an. umbrella? do none of the rest of you have an umbrella. christ. is this a rocky horror showing or something

it’s amazing how nothing rain becomes to you when you simply REMEMBER TO BRING AN UMBRELLA. 90% of shit she does happens indoors anyways, really the only time this would be a point of contention is during the walk from the car to the building. simple as. really, the only reason she has any opinion on it at all is because people tend to be crabbier during bad weather, and that’s annoying, which makes HER crabbyIT’S A WHOLE CYCLE! and since we’re talking about cars fucking NOBODY knows how to drive in the rain and that’s annoying enough riding in a 4 wheeled 2500 pound tank, but on a MOTORCYCLE?? she’d be safer just walking into traffic

if fujiko has plans and it gets rainy, whatever, she’s doing her plans. if she doesn’t? ehh. maybe she’ll just spend a day inside watching movies or whatever. she’s not usually a big tv person, but she likes picking up on trends and patterns throughout eras of entertainment. one time there was a storm for a weekend and fujiko came back telling the others exactly what year the transatlantic accent had been completely wiped from movies

goemon:

it’s just rain you pussies why are you afraid of it?? you gonna melt or something? why would you need anything covering your head oh god wait it’s hailing too oww oof oof owuch ouch

if you asked he’d be like “it’s just nature running its course. what opinion is there to have” but deep down he. really likes the rain IT’S JUST NICE! got a good smell, it’s pretty to watch the drops slide down leaves and window panes and everything else, it just makes everything outside feel a bit naturally cleaner. fresher! he loves rain. he was probably the kid who gasped and ran outside to play in it when he was little

goemon makes it a point to be outside, as you likely imagined, knowing him. you know when you get in the shower and turn the water pressure up and it feels nice on your back. it’s like a simpler version of that. feel the rain on your skin. in the summer this isn’t a big deal but as they get into fall and especially winter, the others are more and more resistant to letting goemon turn himself into a samuraicicle

zenigata:

just. whatever is nearby. sure he has that hat, but he doesn’t want his HAT getting soaked either! coat over the head, umbrella, his fucking hands if he’s movin quick enough, a newspaper! this IS rocky horror now

like a lot of things it depends on how his mood was already. if he’s in an okay mood, okay, no biggie, we’ll just quickly get outta the rain and carry about business as usual. if he’s in a bad mood the rain just. saps everything outta him. he’s sighing really big and slumping against the wall watching it come down. drama queen

again, dependent on mood, but oddly enough, rain usually gives him energy. you would think it would knock him out cold but something about it, something about the way OTHER people react to it, makes him twice as efficient! maybe its the fact most normal people are staying inside and not doing anything for the day, maybe its the implication that he has to stay in one spot because of it and that forces him to work with what he’s given, WHO KNOWS!! he gets too many ideas in the rain. the gang better fucking watch out if there’s a real downpour happening