#oh he’s totally wrong for the majority of his crap and I want to watch his shit get rocked like a ship in a storm

[littleabriel-blog]

Why You Shouldn't Watch Loki S2

With Season 2 of that show making its debut tomorrow, I thought I would make one last ditch effort to convince people not to watch it. It's not just because it's a horrible show that makes a mockery of my favorite Marvel character. There are a lot of problematic elements that contribute to the long list of reasons why people should not give Disney their money or ratings.

I am imploring people, one last time: If you must hate-watch the season, pirate it. If you must watch with some lingering hope that the real Loki will somehow make an appearance (and based on the reviews I have seen, that seems very unlikely), pirate it. Please don't contribute to Disney's ratings. Disney isn't going to care if you're hate watching or if you are only watching it hoping to get a glimpse of the Trickster we all know and love. They only care about numbers, and high ratings might mean we'll get stuck with another season of this utter dreck.

That said, here are some reasons why you should rethink giving this show your views:

It glorifies abuse and torture

In this show we are treated to the sight of Mobius using torture as "therapy", emotionally beating Loki down to the point where he capitulates to the TVA's demands, punishing him for having a crush on someone else by sticking him in a room for hours (at least) with an illusionary Sif who kicks him in the balls and punches him on repeat while further hammering the whole "you'll always be alone, you don't deserve good things" message, and generally working for an organization that subjects Loki to mockery, bullying, sexual assault (being stripped without his consent--that scene wasn't hot. It wasn't sexy. It was horrifying and I really, really have to wonder about the mental state of anyone who is at all turned on by it. Think about it, if Loki were a woman who was being forcibly stripped, there would have been loads of hatemail filling up Disney's servers), and slavery.

That's even before we get into the atrocious way Sylvie treats him. I've gone into how she treats him many, many times, how she belittles, invalidates, silences, and oh yes tries to kill him for daring to ask her to reconsider killing HWR. If the roles were reversed and Loki treated Sylvie like that? You ladies who love the ship so much would be boycotting Disney. It's no less abuse just because it's a woman doing it to a man.

It glorifies fascism

The TVA is very much Nazi coded yet they are framed as heroes...well, except when they're picking on Sylvie of course, since she's all pure and good and can do no wrong (Mary Sue powers activate!) They torture a character who is very much Jewish coded, an effeminate man who is very much the Other in the home he grew up in.

And what the hell is this?

As a Jew, I find this image deeply, deeply disturbing. It's a fucking gas chamber, y'all. It. Is. A . Gas. Chamber.

I don't know how anyone can NOT see how problematic it is.

It has Jonathan Majors in it

I really don't give a flipping shit if they're "only" allegations or if they wrapped up filming before the allegations came out. People boycotted Flash for Ezra Miller doing basically the same thing, so I don't see why it should be any different with Majors.

But then I know from experience that some of you so-called feminists out there are only about protecting or believing women when it suits you. Can't have a little thing like not supporting a domestic abuser get in the way of your wish fulfillment self-insert fantasies of beating the crap out of Loki before fucking him.

The first season was written by a total creep, and that same creep is producing the second season

'Nuff said.

Selfcest/Incest

I don't want to hear how "selfcest doesn't exist", especially in a fictional universe where you have sorcerers, witches, men with super soldier serum running in their veins, magic plants that turn individuals into superstrong Cat People, and talking raccoons.

And even without the selfcest, that ship is a very problematic one, as I stated above, and have continued to talk about at length.

It's just plain awful

The plot is predictable, full of holes, and not even that original (it's cribbed directly from a script Waldron wrote that was so awful, even SyFy wouldn't produce it, plus see my post with the clip from Batman Returns). Loki is grossly OOC in it...seriously, there is not a single hint of the character I had grown to love from Thor 1, Avengers, and the Dark World. He's nerfed all to hell (an Asgardian god who can take on Thor easily is beaten up by human rednecks?), and he's lost all his cunning, wit, intelligence, and grace all in favor of turning him into a sophomoric slapstick clown and the butt of everyone's jokes. The newer characters are poorly mapped out and one dimensional.

It's just...bad.

So there, that's my last ditch attempt to convince people to boycott this piece of shit. I realize my pleas might be falling on deaf ears, much as Loki's pleas fell on Sylvie's, but I had to get it out there.

Other Loki show antis can add to this or elaborate if they want. I'm too tired to be too coherent right now.

[goodluckclove]

John Green's Thoughts on Adulthood: A Post-Mortem Analysis

So I was thinking about the time years and years ago, back when writer John Green was more active on Tumblr. Someone asked if he would ever write a book about adults, and his perspective were that adults were boring.

There's mixed physical evidence online. I remember seeing it, the first line of the ask was captured on a Buzzfeed article from 2013. I couldn't find the actual ask, because from what I've heard at some point John Green was torn apart with such intensity that he is now just a collection of atoms. And I don't hate John Green. I liked his books when I was also young. I watched the VlogBrothers. If I met him in an author space I would thank him for introducing me to NaNoWriMo when I was in middle school.

And then I would ask if he was doing okay. Like - emotionally? Because the shit she said in that ask is some of the saddest I have ever heard in my life. I'm using this Wordpress post as a reference of the rest of what he said and I just want to go through why it's just such a fucked and dangerous thing to say as an author who advocates for young people.

Follow me!

“Would you ever write a YA novel where an adult plays a key role? I know you like to leave the focus around the teenagers and their “peer relationships… but I was just wondering if it had ever crossed your mind.”

That was the ask. Fairly reasonable! And John Green responded immediately with the following:

I mean, to be totally honest with you, I don’t really give a shit about adults.

This on its own is a massive self-report. Not to any sort of crime or character flaw. In my mind, it's part of the reason why I feel like a point where big enough online figures, writers included, either need a PR team or a LOT of therapy. But he continues.

Like, all of my friends are adults. My spouse is an adult. My parents and brother are adults. I know and like many adults. But I don’t want to write for them. Or God forbid about them. They’re just so…boring. It’s like, “Oh I have a mortgage. I buy six pairs of identical khaki pants at a time. I take care of children and watch the television program CSI.” I admire people who can make that crap into the stuff of interesting fiction, but…yeah. No.”

I am angry. I am very angry. If someone said this shit to me in person I would make a face. If we were sharing a space with anyone under the age of 21 I would immediately say "you need to shut the fuck up right now jesus christ".

The thought of a writer who really made his whole brand caring for youth telling them that their future is inevitably dull and unremarkable, especially when you deal with themes of suicide and mental illness, is actually one of the most artistically unethical things I can think of at the moment. I understand that John Green struggled with untreated OCD for very long time, so there's a chance this could actually just be him voicing an intrusive thought that honestly terrifies him.

But he's wrong. We know this, right? Including the adults on here who complain about the tedious aspects of adult life? We know that in a majority of cases it is generally better to be a legal adult than a minor? If you are someone who would go back to being in high school because you maybe had less responsibilities, are you really prepared to lose bodily/legal/societal autonomy?

Like I struggle in life. Sometimes I've struggled a lot. But at my worst, when I was unemployed and flat broke and I couldn't even sell my blood because I took Lithium, if someone told them they could magic me back to being 16 years old again I would scream in their face until they left.

Also, I have a mortgage. It's not boring. Mortgage and insurances are, in fact, pretty confusing and something you have to learn and research. The most boring part about my mortgage was the thirty minute meeting I spent signing paperwork, and once I did that I owned a house with my wife.

Young people who see this - there are going to be boring parts of your life. That's a thing that happens, and sometimes you'll actually be grateful for it. You aren't boring for being thrilled that there's a sale on khakis if you're buying them for a theatrical production, or donating them to a war relief effort, or you're using the fabric, or if it allows you to save money and time in a way that means you get to have a smoothie or something later.

I cannot speak for the experiences of people with higher support needs than I have. But I did talk about this to a friend with higher support needs, and they agreed that being an adult rules. There is a point in which you are no longer an extension of your family or upbringing and it is your life.

It's not always fun. It's scary and confusing and lonely. I had to learn a lot of what my parents never taught me. Adults are always learning things. But since I graduated high school, the only boring period of my life has been the times where I overworked myself into a breakdown and was forced to recover.

And, considering where John Green is now, that kind of explains his perspective a lot.

I hope he figures stuff out. There's no age limit to having to figure stuff out. We're all going to have to do it a lot in our lives.

[laniidae-passerine]

Also a really big reason I can’t take “Izzy is the vicious villain of ofmd” seriously is because he’s pathetic. And not in the typical “this guy is dangerous but a little pathetic” way villains are, he’s just through and through pathetic. He gets a tummy ache when it’s stormy. He pushes Black Pete for no fucking reason but his need to prove he’s a Tough Guy. He’s desperate for any actual affection of any kind but would rather die than say that. A total cunt with innumerable flaws, but a pathetic one.

[internalsealpanic]

Sugar and Spice

Summary: You join the Great British Bake Off for fame, glory, and the excuse to bake. Wait, why does everyone keep looking at you like that? A/n: Basically, this is inspired by my other fic Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms. The format for this series is going to be weird. Please feel free to tell me if it's too confusing or lacking in anything. This fics series is just meant to be a highlight reel of all the baking shenanigans I come up with. Warnings: confusing format

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

[Week 1: Pie week]

Tim needs to calm down. To breathe. It's easy... Ok, not easy. It's manageable. He's made a pie before. He's helped Alfred bake pies loads of times. His heart shouldn't be pounding this much.

Tim uses his shaky hands to gather his hair. One hand stretches the elastic band. See, this is fine. With an easy memorized motion of his hand, he loops the band around his dark locks. This is fine, he reminds himself.

Snap.

Tim's heart sinks.

Mechanically, his head swivels in the direction the band went. You're standing there wincing with your eyes scrunched closed like you'd been hit. Tim looks down only to see the remains of his band on your countertop.

Crap.

Crap was the only word that crossed Tim's mind at the moment. It wasn't his best moment.

You open an eye, nose still scrunched. Your eyes drop down to your workbench, eyes finding the remains of Tim’s hair band before your eyes flick back to him. Tim braces himself for a reprimand. He’s only been here ten minutes and he’s already ballsed up.

To Tim’s surprise, your face melts into an amused smile. You flick your wrist motioning for him to come closer to you. Tim, at a complete loss of what to do, steps closer. You grin at him, pressing something into his hand. He opens his hand to find a red scrunchy festooned with bright yellow and black stripes freckled with stars. Tim looks up at you and he’s not sure what to say.

“Well go on, I doubt the judges want hair-flavored pie.”

*********

Interview:

(Y/n): Why do I have extra scrunchies? Oh, it’s cus I have two older brothers. They keep forgetting to remind me I already have one.

***********

“So the fridge broke.” Kyle says, looking befuddled, hand resting on his hip.

“You sure?” Kon asks, coming up behind him.

“Dunno man, fridges are supposed to be cold, right?”

“On this planet, yeah.” You say ruffling your hair. The fridge sputters and steams. The smoke coming out of it looks almost black. It was a little concerning.

Kon side eyes Kyle. “Sooooo…. How’d ya break it?”

“I didn’t!”

You look at him suspiciously but shake your head instead before crouching to get a better look at the fridge. You blow out a raspberry squeezing yourself into the small space behind the fridge. You gently pull the plug before shuffling back in front of the refrigerator. Pulling the access panel open, you’re greeted with more black smoke. You wave then cough then sigh.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?”

“The evaporating motor is broken. Coil in the motor must have shorted out.”

“So…. dead then.” Kyle sighs.

“Not quite,” you hum. “I… might be able to fix it. Might.”

“(Y/n), you’ll need a miracle to fix that thing.”

“I will if no one hands me a tool box.”

*****************

Interview:

Tim: I really have no idea how Kyle broke it.

Kon: why are you asking me?

Bart: I’m guessing it was an alien thing.

Cassie: Totally an alien thing.

***************************

You groan into your hands. Your show stopper was dreadful. It was by far the second worst thing you’ve made. The first being that one fruit cake you’d made with tomatoes. It was a dare but at the same time… You really should have been charged with a war crime for that. A human rights violation at least. Whatever. Something.

You slump into the couch beside Tim. He looked equally if not more nervous than you. You feel the tiniest bit guilty for feeling better. At least, you weren’t alone but you not having enough time to finish decorating really was your fault. You should have left fixing the fridge to the crew. You sigh.

You’re all pretty quiet which is understandable given the circumstances. Bart looks like he’s gonna pop though. You all watch him, waiting to see if he’ll implode and create a black hole or explode and burst into fireworks or something.

“So which of you weirdos believes in aliens?” Kon breaks in.

Tim perks up at the question but stops before answering.

“I do.” Kyle says a little too confidently. You wonder if he’s seen one or something.

“I do too,” Cassie says turning to Kon,”I’m looking at one right now.”

Bart sits up straughter swinging his legs. “Nah! He’s definitely a clone.”

“I’m 100% original.”Kon scowls.

“Says the James Dean impersonator.”

“Who?”

“Uncultured swines all of you!” Tim exasperates jokingly.

You turn, finally shaking off the excess anxiety. “Well, what do you think?”

Tim purses his lips. You have the urge to tell him they’re chapped but you decide against it. “Well, there really isn’t a reason why they shouldn’t exist. The universe seems to be too large for one planet to be the only hospitable one. Besides, if you think about it statistically-”

“Oh my god, please don’t give me a statistics lecture! I am here to escape my miserable existence as a Chem Major.”

“Buddy that sounds rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Can’t cus I actually picked a major that isn’t about pulling teeth.” Cassie says smuggly.

“Which is?”

“History.”

“Yeah. That sounds worse.” You say mildly.

“How?! What’s your major?”

“You assume I’m a college student.” You say, crossing your arms.

The others look at you like you have three heads.

“You’re not?”

“I am. I just wanted to know what gave it away.”

Tim laughs, his features coming to life. He’s kind of pretty, you think. “Fair but how do you know how to fix a fridge? Technical college?” Someone asks. You’re not quite sure who.

“I wish. I’m a Biology Major.”

“That answers nothing.” Well, they’re not wrong.

“We keep samples in freezers.”

“Like regular freezers?”

“Yeah. Were you expecting something more high tech?”

“Slightly?”

“Sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[gunsatthaphan]

Okay, the cursed episode is coming and I just finished watching this weeks DSN episode. I’m so annoyed. Like, we knew it was coming, but this feels out of character for Leo. Like… wtf? I just.. Okay, obviously there’s a reason, but he was clenching his fists, so blackmail, maybe? But if that’s the case then what would it be? Even then, does it have to do with that phone call King made? Cause if King is going to be the entire reason behind this whole thing, I’m going to be way too frustrated. I want Fiat to figure out what’s going on, this is obviously hurting both of them, but I mean, it’s Leo and Fiat. I don’t know if I can expect a good, happy ending with what may be coming in this next episode. Also, is this “Ball” thing going to happen or is it just a conversation starter for the girl and Leo? A bad one, but I wonder if it will be a scene or not. I don’t think I’m going to be able to watch next weeks episode, I may have to wait it out until I know the ending because I don’t know what’s coming. I’ll see what we more get on Wednesday, but they are coming to shatter our hearts with that fight in the preview.

On the other hand, Leon and Pob actually stole my heart this week. Holy crap they were adorable! I was honestly not sure about them, but wow they are so freakin’ adorable.

Is DSN the series serious with their ep 11 curse drama ? It’s Leo that mess up which is not only totally out of character but so random. The real Leo will push her away immediately. They are doing the exact same thing 2gether did with Sarawat where he suddenly became passive and cold with Tine when he has been the exact contrary during the major part of the show for the sole reason of creating a drama. It’s infuriating I feel like they just threw away Leo’s character. They ruined everything

------------------------------

hi anons!

sorry for the late reply but I couldn't finish the episode until last night djhkdf

Also forgive me for not being able to focus on LeoFiat this week to begin with with all the LeonPob overload jskdhfd

But yeah I have no idea what happened there??? Also maybe I'm missing something but who's the girl?? Do we know her? I might have amnesia. But I didn't recognize her from anywhere...

But anyway I highly assume there is some blackmailing reason behind it; especially since she said their families are close. She admitted to liking him in the preview so maybe she wants him to pretend to be her bf in front of her family or whatever. Idk. I think MeMindY said on Twitter that it will be cleared up next episode. I don't know if we're gonna see the Ball thing but if it's just gonna be drama between the families and them pretending to be together then they can keep it 😂

And I don't think King is behind it. I think he wants to sabotage the game or something? So I think his intentions are unrelated. But I could be wrong.

@ anon 2: Yes it looks like they will not spare us from the cursed episode 11 but so be it. I rolled my eyes so much at that last scene but not because I'm freaking out but because it's literally pointless. I still trust them with my life so I know it's gonna be fine. It might be super shallow and I wish they had picked a different kind of last minute conflict but oh well. So before you say they ruined everything and threw away Leo's character, let's just wait it out 😉 

xxx

[keanureevesisbae]

Protection - Chapter 1

Summary: Mia Makaruku meets her new neighbor, but he isn’t at all what she expected him to be.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

My muscles scream bloody murder, as I trudge through the hallways. Did coach Riley have to be so gruesome today? Goodness me, I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it back to my car. However, when I see the coach standing further down the hall, I quickly straighten my back and ignore the slight dulling pain I feel in my ankle and the rest of my leg muscles. ‘Mia,’ coach Riley says in a stern tone as I come closer to her.

Oh no, I think to myself. I did something terribly wrong. If she uses that tone after the first training of the week, it can only mean I’m in severe trouble. ‘Yes coach?’ I hesitantly ask.

Coach Riley’s looks indicate she is strict. Her blonde hairs are pulled back in a tight knot,  a pair of glasses with a thick black frame rests on her nose and the eyeliner that hardens her eyes. While the indication is absolutely one hundred percent correct, you eventually find out she is a sweetheart deep underneath that hard exterior.

When I first arrived in Chicago five years ago, I had no idea what Thanksgiving entailed and I was ready to spend it alone in my apartment. She invited—correction: forced—me to spend time with her family, because she did not want me to sit alone in my apartment on Thanksgiving.

With my last foster family being everything but a great success, it felt good to be welcomed with open arms into a family. I’ve had my fair share of families and while they were all sweet, the last one was a total nightmare. Being slightly traumatized by the experience, it was good to be hugged by a grandma I had never seen before.

Hugs from grandma’s do wonders.

‘You did good today,’ coach says.

Great, now I know for sure I have severely fucked up. If coach Riley starts with a compliment, she is going to break some pretty bad news within a few seconds. I have trained with her for a little over five years. I know her and her odd and slightly crude way of communicating.

‘Okay?’ I say, waiting for the bomb to drop.

‘However, I want you to take it easy, so next training you’re going to train with Tristan on the side of the field.’

‘Come on, coach,’ I whine. ‘Why?’

‘Upcoming Saturday it’s the second to last game of the year. I need you top fit then.’

‘But I am top fit. Honestly!’

Coach Riley isn’t impressed, but to be honest: when is she ever? If this woman has made a decision, she’ll simply power through, no discussion possible. ‘You take it easy during tomorrows training and you listen carefully to Tristan. I noticed a limp on the field just now.’

‘There wasn’t a limp,’ I say. ‘I swear, it’s nothing to worry ab— Okay, I’ll take it easy tomorrow,’ I quickly say when I see her cocked eyebrow that does not bode well.

She finally smiles. ‘Good. Now scocch, I don’t want to look at your face any longer.’

Just when you think she is finally a little bit approachable and kind, she thankfully does this, because her smile was nearly creeping me out. I can’t stop my chuckle. ‘See you tomorrow, coach,’ I say, holding up my hand as I continue to walk through the hallways.

The closer I get to the exit, the colder it becomes. When I’m training, I somehow forget about the ice cold temperatures. However, when I’m not training, which is the majority of the day, I remember we are nearing the winterbreak and that handling these types of temperatures, is not one of my strengths.

I tense up when I step outside and if my ankle wasn’t slightly bothering me, I’d run to my car. When I reached the vehicle, I quickly step in and start to heat it up. My car, unfortunately, isn’t the most advanced and it takes quite some time before it’s even remotely warm. I shiver in the drivers seat. My phone peeps in my pocket and I pull it out, to check the notification that popped up on my screen.

Reminder to yourself: YOU NEED TO DO SOME GROCERIES. GET YOUR FAT ASS CAT SOMETHING TO EAT.

No, no, no, I forgot. I totally forgot. I curse morning-me for sleeping in today. If I had just done groceries this morning before practice, I could’ve go home now. Why was I lazy and chose an extra hour of sleep over doing something actually productive?

I drive off the parking lot, wave to some of my teammates and go to the nearest grocery store. If I have a clear idea of what I want before I go into the store, I can actually manage to do this pretty swiftly and then go home, so I can curl up on the couch to watch yet another cheesy Christmas movie. I desperately need to buy some food for my cat, some eggs and chocolate and… Do I need more?

This is why one makes shopping lists.

‘You idiot,’ I mumble to myself, as I park the car in front of the store. I get out and walk to the entrance. While I’m strolling through the aisles, to at least get the eggs, cat food and chocolate I do know I need, I hear some girls giggling behind me.

I look over my shoulder to my right and see two young girls standing at the produce section. When they look away, I see a glimpse of their red cheeks and notice they are both wearing Chicago Red Star jerseys. I can’t—and won’t—stop my smile. ‘Hi,’ I say to them, causing them to carefully wave at me.

They shyly wave back. ‘Are you Mia Makaruku?’ one girl asks when she finally found the courage to do so.

I nod. ‘The one and only.’

They look at each other and exchange some excited looks. ‘Can we get a picture?’

This has been my favorite part of the job so far. I mean, sure, I love soccer with all my life, however seeing girls this age cheering me on during the competitions and hearing about how they watch clips of me, so they can learn from my techniques, makes me realize I love that even more. They call me their role model and with the status I have, I can actually be one for them. It’s a job I should take seriously and I do.

When kids tell me they are going to try and watch the European Championship for Women’s Soccer, because I am on the Dutch National Team, I try even harder to be the best player of the competition and be a model for them to look up to. Be someone for them I wished I had when I was younger.

I nod again at the girls. ‘Of course. I love your shirts. Tell me: whose name do you have on the back?’

They start to laugh and turn around, showing the backs of their shirts. ‘Yours of course!’

◎ ◎ ◎

Life hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows for me. I just barely think about it nowadays, since it only leaves me with more questions than answers and I’d rather not wander in the dark like that. It’s weird to think about the things I do remember and don’t.

I do remember the second we skidded off the road. I don’t remember I had a mother or father or three brothers with me in the car. I do remember eventually taking the officer’s hand and despite repeating my name like mantra, kept asking him if he had heard my name correctly. I don’t remember any bodies on the scene, because there weren’t any and I also don’t know how their bodies disappeared.

It’s hard sometimes, knowing there is a memory inside my head that I simply can’t reach, but also not knowing what I’m missing in life. Did my parents love me? Did I have a good bond with my brothers? Was there a specific reason I wasn’t in the system? Why weren’t there other people with the same last name in the Netherlands who recognized me?

I moved from foster family to foster family, while trying to regain my memories by visiting multiple specialists. I went to a lot of places. To England, Ireland, France and Luxembourg, but no one could help me out. At the age of twelve, they simply stopped trying, because it was no use anyways and there was one family back in the Netherlands who insisted on me staying in one place for a change.

Thankfully they did, however I only stayed with them for four years, before I moved to my final family, that was a hell to put it mildly.

Finally, for the first time in yearsI wasn’t going from one specialist to another and there was one place where I was always—despite the family—welcome: my soccer team. In all those years of me visiting specialists, there was always one thing I looked for: a ball to kick around. Soccer was my love, my passion and the only thing I started to care about.

And now I have managed to not only make a name for myself in the USA, but also worldwide. When I was nineteen, I debuted in the Dutch National Team during the European Championship and my performance there was what caught the attention of the Chicago Red Stars. I could leave the small SC Heerenveen in the Netherlands behind and go to the USA. I had seen the American National Team. They were exceptionally good and now I got to play alongside some of them.

My first World Championship was when I was twenty one and the Dutch team was in the finals against the USA. Despite my two goals, the USA was too good and beat us with 4-2. Sure, I was disappointed, but still I was very pleased with the fact that the Netherlands became second and it was such a highlight in my seemingly short professional soccer career thus far.

I managed to overcome all these things and still be the person I am today. Since I can’t remember my past, I made it my mission in life to make the most of my future.

Don’t ask me how, but I managed to come back from the store with three full bags. Apparently, if you wander through the aisles long enough, you’ll find tons of excuses to buy crap you didn’t even need in the first place.

I’m finally back at my apartment building and the automatic doors slide open as I reach them. I walk towards the reception and I say with a smile: ‘Hello Harold, how are you today?'

Harold, the clerk behind the reception who is nearing his pension, greets me with his signature smile and I see the two familiar dimples form in his cheeks. ‘Hello, miss Mia, I’m doing splendid this Monday. How was your training today?’

I simply shrug. ‘It was okay, but I have to take it easy now.’ I can’t help but to roll my eyes. ‘According to my coach, I was “slightly limping” and she needs me top fit this Saturday.’

He scrunches up his nose. ‘But my dear, I think you are incapable of taking things easy. Isn’t your coach aware of that?’

I can’t help but laugh. I always like to talk to Harold, it’s so easy to strike up a conversation with him. ‘I think she just wants to bully me. Is there by the way any mail for me?’

‘There certainly is. Three envelopes for you. Almost makes you seem like a very important lady.’ He sends me a playful wink. ‘Oh, before I forget: I told you about the apartment next to you being sold, right?’

I nod. ‘Does this mean Mystery Person is finally moving in?’ I ask.

Harold nods. ‘He moved in today.’

‘Ah, it’s a man. Is he hot?’

He shrugs. ‘He is pretty stuffy and a bit authoritarian looking. I was hoping for someone as radiant as you. I think we need more people like you around here, not a copy of miss Thornhill.’

I throw my long brown hair over my shoulder. ‘Well, what can I say?’ I chuckle. ‘Not everyone is a ray of sunshine like yours truly. Is there mail for him as well? I can bring it to him.’

‘An envelope did arrive, indeed. I don’t think he will go down here to pick it up. We barely made eye contact today. I hardly even know if he is aware there is a reception, let alone that I’m the clerk.’ He hands me the other yellow envelope and says: ‘Are you sure you want to do this, miss?’

‘Absolutely positive. It might be nice to get to know my next door neighbor. Let’s hope he is not a gigolo. I really can’t use sleepless nights anymore. I have two important games coming up, I need my rest.’

‘Mister Toriello was quite the man,’ Harold laughs. ‘Thank you, my dear, for doing this.’

‘No problem, Harold. See you later!’ I walk to the elevator and hold my card in front of the scanner. The doors slide open and when I get in, I press button number nine. I look at the name on the envelope. It’s actually addressed with a sticker, no handwriting, which I find so impersonal.

A. Walker

A. Walker is probably the most generic name I’ve ever heard. This man could be anybody. Would he be bald, have a beer belly and burps all the time or would he be young, attractive and actually a chance for me to leave my forever alone status behind?

While that would be nice, Harold did say that the man was quite stuffy and authoritarian looking.

As someone with barely any date experience (none at all, actually), I’d say stuffy and authoritarian looking isn’t really my type, but never say never right?

The doors open and I step out on my own floor. I walk through the broad hallways and stop in front of apartment number 943. From behind the door, I can hear someone dragging furniture around the apartment and an occasional male grunt. I knock on the door and just hope that he can hear me. I don’t want to start banging on the door like an idiot.

Thankfully, he did hear me, because footsteps approach the door and when it swings open, my eyes widen.

The man standing in the doorway, does not match the generic sounding A. Walker name at all. He is tall, with broad shoulders and the shortsleeved shirt he is wearing, totally accentuates his muscled biceps. I mean, the body is a total A+ (I don’t think I have ever seen someone this buff, while still being proportionate), his face on the other hand… I mean, he does have a beautifully sculpted face and it looks rather perfect, don’t get me wrong, but he looks so angry with that deep frown between his brows and the mustache isn’t really my thing either. Kinda ruins his entire face, if I’m being honest. ‘Who are you?’ he asks, his voice monotone and already bored.

That is not a good start.

‘I’m Mia,’ I introduce myself with a smile, because smiles make people comfortable and this man does not look comfortable. ‘I live next door, in apartment 944. I brought you your mail.’ I extend my arm, so I can hand him the yellow envelope. ‘Thought it would be nice, since we’re neighbors after all.’

He rips the envelope out of my hand and is actually inspecting the seal on it. I am deeply offended. Why on earth would he think that low of me? As if I would snoop through other people’s mail.

After his thorough inspection, he looks at me again. His eyes take me in and leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The shirt has a slight v neck and is that a tiny bit of chest hair I detect?

I’m almost expecting something condescending leaving his lips (he seems like the type), but A. Walker doesn’t say a word. He simply stares at me and now I kinda regret bringing his mail with me.

He looks and acts like an utter asshole.

‘What’s your name?’ I carefully ask him. Despite him looking like an absolute dick, I do think this is a man you might want to have on your good side. After all, he is my neighbor, I don’t want him to hate me, especially since from the looks of it this man can break me in half with just his pinky, which is intimidating on its own.

‘August Walker,’ he says, tilting his head, as he seems to scan my entire face. ‘Aren’t you that soccer player?’

Before I can even stop it, a smile breaks out on my face. I always like it when people acknowledge the fact that I’m a soccer player. I worked really hard to get where I am now and when people recognize me as that soccer player, it makes me happy. ‘I am,’ I say with an even brighter smile.

Maybe he isn’t so bad after all…

‘I hate women’s soccer.’

I’m dumbfounded. Why on earth does he have to be so rude? What on earth did I do to him to deserve this? What a fucking dickhead. I can’t believe I was actually trying to make a good impression on him. Maybe I don’t want him to be on my good side. Maybe I sort of miss mister Toriello now, with his late night adventures with very noisy female customers. At least he was nice enough to bring me cookies every now and then, to apologize for the noise.

I highly doubt August Walker knows how to bake cookies, let alone buy some of them to apologize for the inconvenience, whatever that may be.

‘Why?’ I ask, as my expression falters.

‘It’s stupid,’ he simply states. To make it even worse, he adds a shrug, as if it’s a well known fact and not just some stupid opinion. ‘Not as advanced as male soccer.’

I frown, as I try to cover up the fact I’m deeply hurt. ‘Well, that’s okay. To each their own,’ I say to him. ‘If we are being frank here: I think your mustache is pretty stupid.’

He simply raises his eyebrows, while his eyes still look bored and annoyed. ‘You do?’ he asks me. ‘Why is that?’

‘I don’t know. It makes you look like a pedophile, really. Have a good day, mister Walker.’ I walk towards my own door and barge inside.

Who gave mister August Walker the right to be this rude to me, someone who he barely knows? What a piece of shit.

My big orange cat Bobo walks up to me and he starts to meow, pulling me out of my racing thoughts.

The hairy companion makes me instantly forget about my new neighbor. ‘Hi, Bobo,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I missed you too, little fella.’ I place the bags on the floor, before I lift him up, to press tons of kisses on his head. He purrs in my ear. ‘I bought you some food, so that means you can finally stop putting your head in my bowl and be a decent cat from now on.’

‘Meow.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

[bitchiha]

To Eternal Bliss, I’m so Glad to Know (ModernAU!Hidan x Reader)

The Rats 1k event prompt: Street racer x Hidan

A/N: hey.. aha.. how y'all doing.. hum so i haven't been doing great, I think that is evident through my inactivity on this blog, but that being said i am in a bit of a better place now. i finally have some time to myself and i intend to put that towards my 900 follower event. Enjoy this wonderful piece of modern racer Hidan that strayed into crazy murder himbo I love car man Hidan.

Title inspired by: this song.

MAJOR TWs: smut, harassment (brief, undescriptive), uhm murter, reckless driving, lots of mentions of and contemplations of death. You are a literal accomplice to murter. Reader is confused. But.. It’s not supposed to be gory and dark, I kinda wanted it to just be stupid and reflect a himbo hidan as much as I could. Last like 6 paragraphs aren’t edited.

-

You shouldn’t be in a criminals car, much less in the middle of a police chase and much much less be falling in love with him.

 His silver hair flashes wildly in the occasional flicker of red and blue lights, teeth bared; he was making that face again. That one he had when he first met you, lips curled and canines showing. It looked like he was in pain. It was just because he was actually trying to use his brain, you think. He grips the wheel tightly, the whites of his pale knuckles glowing as he swerves onto one of the busiest city streets you know. 

Barely avoiding a collision with a distinct yellow blur you could barely classify as a taxi, he continued to speed through the lanes, horns blaring and merging into the sound of the wailing sirens quickly approaching. Another sharp turn onto a slightly less busy road had your body slamming against the console, leaning close to Hidan. Your eyes stray from the window and onto his face, unable to hear what he is saying, you make out the movement of his lips:

shit,shit,shiiit 

The tires screeched as he fumbled around with the controls, sending the car into a full 180 and narrowly avoiding a police car sacrificing its auto body in favour of capturing Jashin. That was real close call, just scratching the side of the passenger door, but you wouldn't know; you were still watching your boyfriends features as he speeds off down another dirty alley. 

You were pretty sure that one day you were going to die trapped in Hidans little metal box.. A distant part of you wanted to throw up when you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, he was obnoxiously annoying in the most serious of times and incredibly oblivious when you desperately needed him to get a clue. I mean fuck, it felt like despite his adolescent years of elementary and secondary school (which you’re not even sure he attended) his brain only had the capacity to process two things. The first being lewd shit and the second would be the gas pedal... and maybe half a braincell was in there thinking of you, but probably only of you in your panties or something really shallow like that. 

You really shouldn’t love him. 

Barrelling down the alley he randomly slammed the breaks down, the lack of warning sending you flying forward. Bracing yourself to be slammed into the front of car, but just when you thought you were going to break your nose Hidan reversed, sending your body backwards instead. You yelped and he sent you a stupid little apologetic curl of his lip before twisting his body, hand coming to your chair for support as he sped the car backwards through the trash littered street. You didn't understand why he suddenly changed his mind about the direction until a few seconds later when a black and white cop car swerved down the alley in the direction you were back pedalling from. Hidan must have known they were going to try and cut his route off.    

  At the sight of the police vehicle your boyfriend impulsively slammed the breaks, rolling his window down and leaning his head out of it, “Ha, you stupid fucks think you could catch Jashin with some lame shit like that? I could smell that from a mile away!” From your boyfriends childish tone you predicted he was going to blow a raspberry, but the sound of speeding tires approaching quickly stopped him. Sirens blaring, the police car sped its way forward. 

“Oh fuck.” Hidan sped Jashin backwards again. 

  You remembered the first time you met Jashin.

  It was late that night, you were making your long trek home after a disastrous closing shift. You were tired. So fucking tired. You never would have taken that shortcut if you weren’t truly physically drained. As you made your way briskly through that musky trash infested canal, you were stopped by a man who smelled just as intensely as the alley itself. It was so much so that you had thought that perhaps it was the mans smell that was so potent and not the space itself. 

  Defining what the source of that smell was wasn’t important though, not when he was coming straight at you with barred, yellow teeth. You didn't know what to do and to be fair, what the fuck were you supposed to do? He was yelling something, you couldn't hear it over the thrashing of your erratic heartbeat.  Were you going to die? You were so fucking tired. 

Maybe you should run.

  You didn’t though. Didn’t have the energy. So you let the man come face to face with your figure, grabbing at the lapels of your coat and screaming. His breath was unbearable and you thought you were going to pass away just from the smell as opposed to actually being murdered. Although you suppose this could probably qualify for a murder, his breath was most definitely a weapon. But despite his shouts being directly at you, his humid breath spraying across your face as his chest constantly heaved, you couldn't understand what he was saying. 

“Jashin! Jashin is coming!” 

  What the fuck was Jashin? Could you still not hear him? He was probably sick. You were tired. So you continued to let him shake your form. Was he going to kill you or just ask for some money?

  Thats when a beast of sleek red metal swerved down the alley, trampling over peeled open garbage bags and beer bottles, approaching you with each sound of a crinkled can. It was gunning straight towards the man who was backing you up against the wall, he was frothing and screaming at the sight and the next moment the hood of the car slammed into his form. Despite your close proximity to the man, you were left barely unscathed and a little bit disappointed.  

  The scene laid frozen for a good thirty seconds: the man unconscious on the floor, your unsteady breathing and the window of the car rolling down. It inched back to reveal a man about your age - which made him just barely a man - with silver slicked back hair, barred teeth and knitted eyebrows. 

“Shit.” 

  You just stared at him, backpack beginning to slide down your shoulders. He stared back at you, waiting to see what your next move was going to be. You didn’t have one. 

  “...If it makes you feel any better, douchebag deserved it.” The man said a few minutes later, he clearly wasn't expecting the crumpled body on the floor to have tried to seek out help, let alone from a cute girl. He smoothed his hair back. 

   His crappy attempt to seduce you didn't work and nor did his equally crap words of consolation, you were tired. This whole situation was even more tiring. You just wanted to sleep. 

  “I won't tell anyone, if you just drive me home.”

  He clearly wasn't expecting that, you could tell that from the pained look intensifying on his face and his little choked gasp. A few moments later it released like an elastic band snapping and his features set into a smug smirk. A cute girl who wasn’t gonna snitch on him?

  “You’re not going to question the fact that I just hit someone with my car? Is it cause I'm so fucking sex-” 

  You weren’t listening, walking over the heap of a body and around the car into the passenger seat. The contrasting smell of vanilla and cigarettes clouded your senses as you clicked your seatbelt into place - noticing his lack of one in the process.

You hated that your face was burning up as you spoke. “I live a few blocks away.” 

For a while you were sure that this was the first girl Hidan had ever had in his car. It was obvious that he was freaking out, maybe if he didn’t hit people in alleyways and then blamed your silence on the fact that he was so fucking sexy, then maybe he would be able to talk to more.

  He tried to blab to you the whole way to your apartment accidentally making wrong turns to try and extend the length of your stay. He told you about that man in the alley, said something about how he totally fucked him over in some black market shit for auto parts. Said his enemy, - he stressed this word very intensely - Shikamaru probably put him up to it. Nobody messes with Jashin goddamit, I fucking hate that guy. It was a shit justification for murder no doubt, there is never a good reason to hit someone with a car, but you supposed your indifference wasn't any better. 

  You stole a couple glances at him every now and then, when his eyes took a break from darting back and fourth between your thighs, your face and the road. He had a sharp jaw, pretty cheekbones, gelled back hair with small strands escaping every so often - causing him to brush them back when too many tickled his forehead - his lashes were long and his eyes so pretty so in the dim light of the empty city streets. His teeth were straight and sharp canines peeked out whenever he sent you a suggestive smirk.

You also spent an unbelievably long time watching his fingers maneuver the steering wheel, the way his hands flexed with a certain turn. The veins of his forearms travelling underneath his leather jacket pushed up at the elbows, his jeans were all worn out and faded and his shoes looked like they were about to fall apart, it was a big difference in comparison to the well kept state of his handsome car.

  When he finally made it to your complex after running out of roads to take wrong turns down, he looked at you like a lost puppy, rolling the passenger window down to call out to you as you opened the lobby doors. “So I’ll meet you out here tomorrow then? Say, around 9?” 

  You turned to look at him confusedly, inquiring as to why he would be picking you up when you made no reservations to see him again, why would you want to see your accomplice in a murder ever again? But he was already speeding off before you got the chance. 

At least you could finally go to sleep.

The next day he was outside your apartment fifteen past nine, blaring his horn as he maneuvered his upper body to hover out the window of his lovely Jashin. You were nestled on your couch, staring at the blue light of the TV screen in your dark apartment desperately trying to avoid the textbook glowering at you from the coffee table.

‘Cute kitten saved from tree’ was sprawled across the bottom of your television in bold letters as a perky blonde read off the little cue cards in her hand. You’d been watching the news all day, waiting for the red breaking news! To slice across the screen and read out the description of a crippled homeless gambler found dead in an alley, but it never came.

It mad you feel a little angry when you realized his death wasn’t going to be announced and you knew there was no way it hadn’t been discovered yet. Then you sat startled at the realization that you didn’t feel anything towards what happened. That the anger you felt in wanting it to be so desperately displayed on the news was because you hoped you would feel something then.

The sound of Hidans car horn threw you out of your thoughts as you jumped like a frightened cat to the window. Peeling back the curtain you were surprised to see that blood stained blotch on the road with a lavender haired boy peeking out, baring his teeth.

You contemplated staying inside, he didn’t know your apartment number, but you knew that he definitely wouldn’t stop blaring the horn if you didn’t. His hand was undeniably laying flat against the centre of he wheel as he continued to sound out, you heard someone yell for him to fucking shut up. Hidan continued as if he didn’t hear. It kind of flattered you.

You wanted to vomit.

You took the stairs.

It was the beginning of winter when you finally let Hidan fuck you. You were in some parking lot lined with pitch black shops on a Sunday night. Everyone closed early going home to their families, except the two of you of course.

It was odd being with him for this long. One outing turned into another and then another, before you knew it he was picking you up every night at nine -sometimes fifteen minutes passed,- blaring his horn excitedly as he peeked out his car.

He told you it was the perfect place to do donuts, didn’t you want to do donuts? You did. It was the beginning of winter. It was icy. His idea was incredibly fucking stupid. But you agreed because maybe you’d skid on the ice and smash into a store, get crushed by the crumbling debris..

There was little snowflakes hitting the windows of Jashin as you two sat parked in the middle of the deserted lot.

“You ready? Oh you’re gonna love this, babe.”

He grinned as your face heated up at the name, you always got all flustered whenever he said anything like that. It made him feel giddy. His long fingers start Jashin up, moving to clutch the wheel as the car thrums to life.

When he makes the first swerve with his car, he turns his head to watch your body all stiff and frightened. It was funny. He laughed as your face twisted into an even more flustered one - if that was possible. God, you were always such a hard ass at the beginning of the night, but when he dropped you off outside your apartment early into the morning he always made sure to leave you with a little smile on your face. Even now, this early into the night he could see the beginnings of one.

He twisted the wheel again and your body flew to the left, smooshing into the console and the surprised laugh that left your mouth had his guts twisting. He wanted to hear it again. Your walls always fell when he did stupid shit like this. You were kinda fucked up now that he thought about it. Always getting all giggly when you should probably be screaming at him to be more careful for fucks sake! But you never did and he loved that about you. Just as fucked as he was.

“Hey babe, babe! This one’ll be good. Watch, watch.” He gripped the wheel again and grinded his sneaker into the gas, the first skid across asphalt was intentional, but when he tried to regain the reigns of his dark red beast it began to thrash out of his control.

Goddamn ice patch.

The car twisted, screeched and burned into the pavement for a good twenty seconds and when he was sure you should be screaming because I mean come on, that was fucking scary, he heard silence.

As the car came to a complete stop and your body was once again flung against the console, he turned to you. He thinks he was gonna ask if you were okay but he couldn’t remember because the next moment you were grabbing tufts of his gelled hair and sucking his face off.

He loved every second of it. The amount of times he’d tried to get his dick wet with you before was astronomical, but you’d always tell him no and he would pout like a dog. But hey, now you’re shoving your tongue down his throat like a dog so he settled on the idea that good things do come to people who wait.

The reason you decided to do it then was blurry. One moment his car was skidding around the parking lot and you were laughing and thinking of the chance of death and the next second it spat onto your tongue and you realized you didn’t want it anymore.

Like that first time you slid into his car, as you kissed him now you tasted contrasting flavours. Mint and cigarettes. For a moment you thought you were going to pull away, but you felt the sudden need to drink all of it. To somehow understand why you felt like you were burning from the inside.

It was his fault really. Hidan made you feel less tired, if that was a good way to put it. You started looking forward to things after you two met and eventually you actually started to feel a bit more deeply for poor crumpled man in the alley. It felt as if you’re body was being thawed out by this silver haired idiot who was groping for the clasp of your bra underneath your shirt.

So you climbed over the console, fumbling with the side of his chair to pull his seat back as you began to strip off your top in haste. You unbuttoned his jeans and slid down to the space between his leg, choking and drooling all over his cock because when you did you felt all these funny emotions bubbling in your body, you felt alive.

He was a loud mouth when you had his dick down your throat, groaning and saying the dumbest, lewdest shit his sex wired brain could think of. You know how many times he’s thought of this? You feel so good, you feel so good. God this is so good, Jashin probably loves it too... We should fuck on the hood of the car next. Long slender fingers guided your head up and down him as he began to twitch thrust his hips upwards, finally spill into your mouth. Douchebag didn’t let your head go and you felt some of his juices dribble down your tongue.

“Swallow it, swallow it while my dicks still in your mouth... Atta girl, you’re so good. So greedy..”

And you swallowed it all, he hoisted you back onto his lap and pushed your skirt up. He was whispering all this perverted stuff in your ear and your mouth fell open against his neck. Words making you flush fiercely and slowly grind your hips against him. You stopped him when he was beginning to shove your panties down your thighs, though.

For the first time you felt small in comparison to him as you met his eyes. He stopped his movement seeming like he was going to say something too, but you cut him off.

“- Hidan... I’ve never done it before.”

He stares at you all wide eyed before laughing and for a second and you think about getting out of his car and walking home because that’s such a douchebag thing to do, but then he surprises you.

“Me too, I was just about to say.. but I mean it can’t be hard right? Well, I am hard,” he laughed and you found yourself huffing a small giggle at his stupid joke, good mood returning as he continued, “I was just gonna go with what I seen in hentais.” That explained his dirty talk.

It was pretty good for your first time though. Ideally not the best place to have sex, you kept hitting your head and he couldn’t quite get his hips thrusting at a good pace with the confined space, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care because it was Hidan and you think you just might be in love with him.

That’s why you don’t say anything when a few weeks later you see “Shikamaru Nara, infamous street racer found dead in a back alley crash.” flashing across your tv screen.

You don’t comment, just give a little understanding hum when Hidan calls you and tells you he can’t pick you up tonight babe, or for a few nights, Jashin needs some repairs..

It’s why now, as he speeds through the streets recklessly with your bags in the trunk and the sound of sirens ringing in your ears that you feel tears prick your eyes. You wish you could have told him to be more careful, that he shouldn’t have done what he did without planning it. Something, anything.. it’s too late now. But he’s not to blame.

You think it’s your fault, really.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Shattered Skulls and Tampered Timelines

A/N: Two things!

1) I'm probably not the first person to come up with this, but i personally haven't seen anybody else talk about so if you see someone else with this idea, then that's pure coincidence

2) It's in the tags, but content warnings for blood, a bit of gore, mentions of broken bones, and death.

***

Drifting.

That was an accurate way to describe it, he thought. Drifting. Floating aimlessly through the world, mindlessly going through the motions, doing everything he was asked as simple as muscle memory. The nothingness of it all twisted his stomach and ate away at him like he was nothing but a corpse, rotting away on the ground.

Like the limp and bloodied body of the child laying in front of him.

He never really wanted to kill him, truly. It was the heat of the moment, a quick decision, a thought as sudden as the sickening crack of the boy's skull as it slammed against the wall or the scream ripped from his throat or the way he slumped onto the floor, eyes still open, and totally, undoubtedly dead.

He was supposed to play with his food. The same way cats do, tugging on the mouse's tail, clawing at its fur, batting it with its paws. Only difference was, he had never intended to let go.

Drifting. That's how he'd described it. Carried slowly by a current of air or water. Carried to build the community house by his friends, carried to steal the boy's discs by spite, carried to kill him by anger.

Carried to stumble across the prison cell as a blinding flash of light suddenly burst from the corner of the room.

He was met with a shock of neon colours, first. Purple, cyan, yellow, and what seemed to be a million more hugging the figure of a man with his back turned. Then was a mop of brown hair on his head, pale skin, and then finally a book in his hands, leather with gold strips on the spine and a cyan spiral on the cover.

The figure paused, then looked around the room. He perked up, held the book close to his chest and spun around, meeting his eyes. 

"Oh my god, finally! I made it!" he whooped, grin stretching ear to ear. His eyes shone brightly with something more than just excitement.

He hummed. "Nice of you to join us, Karl," he mused. "Not many people have visited."

Karl narrowed his eyes. "And nobody should." He peered over his shoulder and grimaced. "Tommy... you really killed him, huh?"

"I thought Sam already told everybody."

"He did, I just..." He trailed off, as if not wanting to say it. "You're disgusting, Dream."

"Why thank you, that's a very nice compliment." He hesitated. "Why are you here?"

Karl tapped the book. Its yellowing pages and colourful bookmarks ruffled under the leather case. Wordlessly, he pushed past Dream, kneeling beside the boy's body as it stared blankly up at him. Its jaw was dislocated and its temple was bleeding in three different places, the blood masking a third of his face. The back of his head was practically caved in.

"You didn't even have the decency to close his eyes?" Karl hissed, setting down the book. He reached out and touched the boy's arm. Cold as the leaking obsidian walls.

Dream shrugged. "Pretty sure I punched one of his eyes out of its socket," he hummed.

Karl could have vomited. But instead, he pressed the boy's eyelids down, and that lifeless grey stare was gone.

He put one arm under the boy's knees and the other on his back. Slowly, he hoisted the body until it sat slumped on his body, its head lolling on his chest, and tried not to look at the blood now staining his perfectly good hoodie.

Dream stared. "What are you doing?"

Karl flipped to a page in his book, one hand propping up the body, the other following the trail of words from paragraph to paragraph. "Fixing the past," he said simply.

Dream stepped forward. "Karl, you can't do that."

"It's what needs to be done." He flipped another page.

Dream stepped again. "I'm gonna bring him back anyway. He's not dead forever."

"That doesn't matter. I need to make things right."

"This is wrong."

"You're wrong!" He thumbed through a stack of pages. "C'mon, c'mon, where is it...?"

"What are you–?"

"I need to go back to when it all started," he hurried. "Before everything, before the discs, before Wilbur. Before you got a chance to hurt anybody."

"Karl–"

"I need to make things right!" he snapped. "Tommy needs to be okay again. This server needs to be okay again."

"You don't know what you're doing, Karl," Dream said softly. "Give me the book."

"No!" He snatched the book closer to him, rifling through the pages of bookmarks and trinkets and notes scribbled beside the paragraphs of spells and alternate timelines.

Dream leapt. Karl scrambled put the way, leaving the boy behind and jumping to the other side of the cell. His eyes flitted frantically across the pages until they landed on what he needed. "Found it!"

"Found what?"

"Tommy will be fine, I don't know and don't care about what'll happen to you." He skimmed over the words. "Turn back the hands of time, restore the form..."

Dream pounced at him. "Karl, give me that book–"

Karl sidestepped the attack, running as he read. "Things will go back to how they once were..."

Dream growled. "Give me the book!"

"The subject must not know about the original timeline..."

He went to strike his face, but Karl was quicker. He ducked out the way and the wall shook with the impact. "I'll kill you, Karl!"

Karl read faster. "...guide the subject and ensure their safety, otherwise the timeline will collapse–"

"Karl!"

"–and the traveller will forever be stuck in the Inbetween."

"Give me the book–!"

Karl slammed the book shut and dove to the floor. He pulled Tommy closer to his chest and closed his eyes.

And when he opened them, Tommy was gone, and Karl was lying on a patch of grass. He bolted upright so fast that he probably pulled a muscle in his back, but he didn't care.

"Tommy? Tommy!" he called out, frantically whipping his head around.

Good news: the spell had worked, and they were back.

Bad news: Tommy was nowhere to be found.

He looked around again, until his gaze settled on what looked like a dirt cave. Well, less like a cave and more like someone had blown up a couple TNT mounds into an otherwise perfectly normal slope, but still, it was something. Outside it sat an oak path snaking through the majority of the buildings and in front of the cave.

Karl sprang to his feet. "Prime Path!" He turned to the cave. "Tommy's house..."

Hopefully nobody would be watching as he entered a child's home while he was probably sleeping. He slipped through the entrance (the kid didn't even have a door) and took in the view..

The place was so different, now that he could really see it. Crafting table floor, no windows, dirt walls... for someone who was "married to the grind", he had a pretty shit living space.

Now, if the spell had worked how he'd planned, Tommy would be asleep in his bed. And sure enough, when he turned, there he was, sprawled out on his bed without so much of a scratch on him.

Travelling through different time periods, Karl had certainly gained a new appreciation for his life. But that was nothing compared to the wave of relief he felt once his gaze landed on Tommy. The kid was fine, if a bit younger, with his eyes closed peacefully and not a bruise on his face and his chest slowly rising and falling as he snored.

Karl sighed. Travelling was already tiring on his own. Having another person travelling with him was a whole other story.

"Right," he muttered to himself. "My name is Karl Jacobs. I have the ability to travel through time. I have two fiancés, Quackity and Sapnap. I travelled back to give Tommy another chance and to help the sever not downgrade to how it is now. If Tommy dies again, the timeline will collapse. My job is to help him. His memories should still be intact."

He nodded. That sounded about right.

He pulled out his journal and scribbled a note in one of the blank pages. He ripped it out, folded it and laid it down on Tommy's chest.

Tommy just needed to wake up.

Karl slinked out the exit, staying as quiet as humanly possible as not to wake him up. And he was doing perfectly well, not making a single sound, until he was met face-to-face with a white smiling mask and he nearly screamed until his vocal chords went out.

He slapped a hand over his mouth. "Uh– h–hey, Dream!"

Dream smiled softly. "Karl? You're not supposed to be here, are you?"

"Nope! Yeah, sorry, I was just... returning something to Tommy. I'll be out of your hair now–"

"No, I mean on the server. I never whitelisted you."

Crap. He's forgotten about that.

"Yeah you did!" he blurted out. "You did, uh, ages ago! I just never really came here, uh, a lot, so, yeah."

If Dream believed that, then Karl was either the most charismatic person in the world, or Dream was the dumbest man to ever live.

"...huh. Okay, then," Dream said slowly.

What.

"Yup!" Karl said. "Okay, well, uh, see you 'round!"

He bolted off before Dream could reply.

Now for Tommy to wake up, and for the operation to begin.

***

Tommy awoke with a scream.

It was the last thing he'd done before his head cracked against the wall; scream for Dream to stop and then scream in the agony.

Then suddenly, everything had gone black, and he was with Wilbur again.

His time in the afterlife had gone by in a blur, he could hardly remember any of it. All he recalled was a tall brown blot, the smell of blood and gunpowder, and now suddenly he was awake.

He looked down. A folded piece of paper sat on his chest, and he opened it up.

Tommy,

I can't tell you who I am, but I can tell you that you're safe and that everything's fine for now.

You're probably confused, so let me explain. Everything you remember wasn't a dream. You founded L'Manberg, got exiled twice, got killed by Dream, everything. I've brought you back in time so we can fix everything that went wrong and hopefully change the server for the better.

Hopefully you're where when I want you to be, but if not, then we'll just have to work with it. Here's the rundown: Wilbur's alive, L'Manberg hasn't been founded yet, you and Tubbo are still on three lives, and a lot of the server hasn't been whitelisted yet. That means no Quackity, Ranboo, Schlatt, everything.

It's better if I don't tell you who I am, otherwise it might affect the timeline. All you need to know is that I'm here on the sidelines if you need anything. Write me a note and I'll find it.

Good luck. You're gonna need it.

~Traveller

...well, that probably explained a few things.

He hardly had any more time to think when a knock sounded. He whipped his head around and was met with a familiar face.

"Wilbur!" he grinned, and raced forward to embrace him, burying his face into his shoulder. Wilbur stumbled back, mildly concerned.

"Woah woah woah– hugs? Tommy, are you alright?" he asked gently. Tommy nodded, but made no move to pull away.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, I just..." He pulled away slowly. "I... I had a dream that I lost you, is all."

He grinner. "Aww, Tommy...!"

"Alright, shut up, you sappy bastard. What do you want?"

Wilbur looked around. "Why is the floor crafting tables, Tommy?"

His mind raced. Fuck, why was his floor full of crafting tables?

"Eret," he said suddenly. "It's– it's Eret."

The puzzle pieces clicked together. That's right, Eret had done it.

Tommy frowned at the thought of him. Maybe he could stop the betrayal this time around.

Everything else went by in a flash. Tommy's head swam with thoughts, painstakingly trying to remember what he had said, what he had done, where they had travelled. He didn't even know where exactly in time he was!

Then Wilbur said something that set off every red flag and blaring alarm in his head.

"So, Tommy," he said nonchalantly enough. "Have you ever seen the TV show 'Breaking Bad'?"

Tommy's stomach turned. "Sort of." It wasn't a yes or a no, a balancing act.

"Imagine what would happen if we could get every brewing stand off the server," he continued, "and then we, make an empire out of producing all the potions on this server."

His head span. He felt sick. His chest hurt with the memory of the arrow that hadn't even been crafted yet. He remembered the towers, the TNT, the button– everything. The heartbreak, the nightmares, the downward spirals, everything leading up to that fateful day when his head shattered like glass against the obsidian wall.

He remembered everything, and he needed to stop it.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 11 "Black Friday"

"Be careful. I'd really like to kiss you again."

"I'm saving my energy for Black Friday doorbusters tomorrow morning."

"How about you do the honors?"

"Oh, the holidays. That festive time of year where everyone's decked out in their Christmas finest."

"The season of joy and love and presents begins when the clock strikes midnight."

"I thought you got all your clothing hand-delivered by A-list designers."

"Black Friday is about buying deliberately cheap, totally forgettable Christmas gifts for friends. The obvious cheapness of the gift makes them question our friendship and makes them way easier to manipulate as they try desperately to get back on my good side."

"Is this black toilet paper?"

"Amazing. A pair of mink albino boy shorts."

"I bribe the dude who deals weed off the loading dock to let me in a half hour early."

"Torturing these soulless manatees of senseless consumerism brings me so much joy. And isn't joy what the holiday season's all about?"

'At first I was like, "What a weird turkey." And then it clicked. Like... "Damn, that's a head."

"When you agree with me, it makes me question whether I actually agree with me."

"I am gonna take this opportunity to be the strong parental influence you have never had."

"You are gonna march over to that sofa right now and you're gonna sit down because you are in a time out."

"I'm sorry. Did you just put me on a time out? You do realize I'm not seven, right?"

"Well, behold how badly you've failed."

"I think it's pretty safe to assume that your career is over."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to the mall to exercise our patriotic right to join hundreds of thousands of our fellow out-of-breath Americans in sweatpants as they make frenzied, ill-thought-out purchases of cheap, crappy garbage they can't afford and don't need. To deny us of that right would be un-American."

"Let's go, sluts."

"I want to know what I'm being charged with."

"You drove your pickup truck through the front window of a Best Buy."

"You killed or maimed people. Let's go."

"Sounds awful, but I'd keep that to yourself."

"You're not really helping yourself."

"Most of the uniformed cops out there are working on a volunteer basis because they get backed up inside if they don't crack a few skulls every day."

"There's a killer on the loose and you're telling us this town has no police force?"

"I don't understand why you have to get us the crappiest gifts possible and then make sure we know about it beforehand just to ruin the surprise."

"I mean, that's like bringing pineapples to Hawaii."

"So would you feel the need to waste $13,000 buying me something I already have?"

"Maybe instead of using my disgusting wealth to buy my friends crap, I should use my disgusting wealth to buy my friends things they would actually enjoy."

"The mall is deserted."

"Oh, go on and shoot me, hag. It'll just make me young and skinny forever and you'll still be old. Come on, finish me off, you shriveled, old crone!"

"First day on the job and I caught a killer."

"Wait, you have a gun?"

"Damn! Why didn't I shoot him when I had the chance?"

"How's your crossbow wound?"

"The arrow missed all major arteries, and I'm currently rolling on some sweet painkillers."

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"I've always had this vision of a band of sisters who stand together like an impenetrable community of shields who kept everyone safe and secure."

"Sometimes, instead of shields, we need swords."

"No one is going to help us."

"No one is going to stop this until we are all dead."

"Well, I'm sorry, but she is a vindictive, amoral woman who no one is gonna miss."

"I say we poison her."

"Did you ever do it in my bed?"

"So you were gay lovers?"

"No, we were not gay lovers."

"I'm an investigative journalist."

"Well, you know, I really love the idea of a bunch of guys from different backgrounds getting together and forming a brotherhood for life."

"Have you ever been to a driving range?"

"What sort of ab regimen are you rocking, bro?"

"I guess the fact that you and I cannot stand one another is finally out in the open."

"Name your weapon."

"So pick your weapon. You can choose sabres, guns, baseball bats, small pebbles, spoons, doesn't matter to me. What does matter, is that we will fight, and we will fight to the death."

"Well, I am sorry that took so long, but, you know, a watched pot never boils."

"Being a millennial feminist means growing up listening to Taylor Swift say she doesn't like to think of the world as boys versus girls."

"That's not what feminism was about."

"How come all the pictures on the wall are selfies?"

"Oh, it smells amazing."

"Where did you get puffer fish venom?"

"I want to be there when she dies."

"That's bliss!"

"Is it nutmeg?"

"I am like a soldier at war. I am killing to stop more killing. It's totally justified."

"But what about moral law?"

"Oh, that would be hard for you?"

"I don't "rage" on Tuesday nights or have competitions about how many girls I can have sex with in one day."

"What I'm trying to say is guys join fraternities to get a sense of structure in their lives. Problem is the structure

they're buying into is antiquated. It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."

"It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."

"I don't think I'm in the right headspace right now."

"You're a rare breed, one of the true good guys."

"That's the weirdest explanation for anything I've ever heard."

"We need to think of new ways to kill her!"

"I'm really gonna cherish our time here together."

"Killing is wrong, but, under this circumstance, I don't know what other choice we have."

"Hold on, sluts."

"When I was your age, I was thoughtless about sex."

"If you don't think you're ready, you probably aren't. And if you aren't, well, then no good can come from doing it, anyway."

"The main thing is you have to be perfectly dry. The cryosauna is set to 200 degrees below zero, so any water on your skin freeze instantly."

"How come there hasn't been any screaming?"

"No, we need to get away while we still can."

"Hey, hey, it's enough. The point has been made."

"Why do you want to continue taking this any further?"

"Yes, I feel guilty!"

"Don't you ever call me again."

"I heard about these Buddhist Monks that found a way to meditate, so they can sit outside all night, way, way up in the Himalayas in weather that would kill a normal person, but their core temperature stays totally normal."

"You're thinking of the movie Teen Wolf, you brainless gash, which is not, in fact, a documentary!"

"Uh, Rasputin. He was a mystical Russian peasant who became a close advisor of Tsar Nicholas II because he could magically cure Prince Alexei of his hemophilia."

"Okay, this seems totally not germane to what we're talking about, so can we please just skip ahead?"

"Maybe she has some magical powers that make her unable to die, like some horror movie villain, like Michael Myers, or Jason, or Dr. Giggles."

"So, maybe try on a size zero."

"Okay, I'm not gonna try on the size zero because I won't fit into the size zero."

"This is discrimination!"

"Look at her. Give her something. Give her something to be happy!"

"Come on, what is wrong with these idiots?!"

"Why did you ask me to meet you here? And why are you carrying a bag clearly filled with chains?"

"I thought we could talk about bondage and go for a swim."

"You're all packed up. I thought you were staying until you cracked the case."

"I was just gonna go to the woods and write or something,

like Thoreau, but with WiFi."

"I mean, maybe I could come with you. Might be kind of romantic, you know?"

"I could bring a slow cooker, and we could talk about the case all night over short ribs?"

"Well, I do love short ribs."

"I'll always be able to say that my first was with a great, great, great guy."

"I am a sentient grown woman who has been through

hell the past few weeks, and I'm sitting next to you, now, with open eyes and an open heart, telling you that I want to give myself to you."

[alleycat97]

Daughter in Law

Queen B

Pairing: Chloe x MC (Bea)

I have no idea why I wrote this. It’s been in my drafts for months so I decided to finish it. Part 1? Maybe a second if it goes well. Angst/fluff/homophobic issues when coming out.

“Chloe relax. You need to breathe it’s just my parents they’re not going to bite.” Bea said reassuring a very nervous Chloe.

“I know I just want to make a good impression on them. You did tell them we were coming right?”

“Well ya see babe, I totally forgot to mention it and I’m so sorry. I figured a surprise would be better?” Bea tried.

“Bea!!! Do they even know you’re gay?” Chloe asked hushing herself. “Last time we talked about it, you were still hiding it.”

The silence coming from Bea was enough to answer Chloe’s question. This was going to be terrible, so much for a great first impression.

“So you’re telling me I’m about to meet my girlfriends parents on their farm halfway across the country in Hicktown USA and they don’t even know we’re coming and they don’t know their daughter is bringing her girlfriend. Sure...this isn’t a bad idea.” Chloe mumbled.

“It’ll be fine. I hope.” Bea trailed off. “My parents will love you and my decisions no matter what. Now relax, put on your pretty face and get out, we’re here.”

Chloe was impressed indeed, for being in the middle of Iowa, The Hughes Family had a beautiful home. It was filled with beautiful trees and the air was filled with....was that crap? “What is that smell Bea?”

“Fresh air babe, just good ol country air.”

At the sound of car doors closing, the front door to the extravagant farm house opened and an older couple came out.

“Bea!? Is that you?” The woman asked quickly making a beeline for Bea, scooping her up in a hug.

“Welcome home kiddo, you should have told us you were coming.” The man said sauntering over patting Bea on the back.

“I figured this would be better, I hope you guys are surprised!”

“We are indeed. Now who is your friend?” The woman spoke looking over Bea’s shoulder directly at Chloe.

“Mom, Dad. This is Chloe, my girlfriend. Chloe this is my mom, Linda, and my father, Mark.”

The air grew still as Bea announced Chloe to her parents. Her mother looked uneasy and her father was clearly startled.

“I’ve got fencing to do. I’ll see you at supper.” Mark said walking off towards his farm shop.

“But Mark! Bea just drove all of this way to see us.” Linda protested.

“And I told you I’ve got fencing to do. Now I best be tending to it.” Mark grumbled getting further away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here.” Chloe spoke trying to blame this on herself.

“Now don’t you go blaming yourself young lady. We are glad to have you here.” Linda replied to the girls relief. “Now y’all go get settled in and wash up for supper. It’ll be ready in a few hours.”

Chloe and Bea drug their luggage up to Bea’s old room and the guest room down the hall. Bea naturally had a few bags but spent the majority of her time lugging Chloe’s endless supply of bags into her room for her. “That’s the last of them babe. I really don’t see why you need all these bags...” Bea stopped when she heard Chloe snoring on the bed and went to tuck her in, road trips and Chloe didn’t mix.

Bea took the oppurnity to head downstairs to help her mother fix supper. Fresh fried chicken, sweet corn and baked potatoes.

“Do you think dad is upset with me?” Bea casually asked.

“I don’t know sweetie. You know how he is. I think part of him believed that with you going off to that fancy school, you’d bring home a man and he’d finally have the son we could never have.”

“But it shouldn’t matter who I bring home right?”

“I agree honey. But your dad is a man, a man who comes from a long line of men who believe in the samething. It’s going to take him awhile to come around.”

“And what about you? How do you feel about this?” Bea asked setting the table.

“I really wish you would have called and told me how you felt. So I would have time to adjust to this. But I think she’s a beautiful young girl and she seems to make you happy and that’s all I care about. So I’m perfectly ok with this as long as she makes you happy.”

Bea couldn’t help the smile forming at the thought of her girlfriend. “Oh she does. She’s sassy, she knows what she wants and how to get it. She’s crazy beautiful and she actually listens to me. She knows what I need before I ask and I don’t know how, but she’s always one step ahead of me.”

“Sounds like you have a winner Bea.” Linda smiled.

“I sure hope so, I think I love her, and I mean really really love her.” Bea stopped her gushing when her father stepped into the kitchen.

“How was your fencing dad?”

Mark took a deep breath and calmly tried to answer, “Busy as usual.”

Bea sighed at her fathers few words. He was definitely not thrilled with her right now. And to add fuel to the fire, Chloe stumbled her way into the kitchen to join the soon to be circus.

The four of them sat at the table, Chloe uncomfortably across from Mark. He was staring her down hard and it was clear he wasn’t thrilled to have her eating at his table.

“So Chloe is it? Tell me, since you go to school with Bea, is there a required course for sexual education, or a bible study course? I know a few ago could benefit from such courses.”

What the hell was that? Bea thought. That was random but she knew what he was doing.

“I’m not sure?” Chloe replied.

“Tell us about you then? What is your major?”

“I...I don’t have a set in stone one yet. I haven’t decided.” Chloe admitted.

“So you’re telling me you’re a junior in college, and have no idea what you want to do in life. Bea are you sure this is the one you want supporting you?” Mark asked.

“Daddy enough! You’re putting words into Chloe’s mouth.”

“I am not! I asked her what her major was and she doesn’t know. That tells me more than enough. That’s the problem with that school. All the rich kids pay tuition to screw around and all the kids who earned their spot pack them in academics. All the rich kids care about is partying and corrupting the innocent minds of the good kids.” He said staring directly at Chloe.

“Thank you for dinner it was wonderful.” Chloe said wiping her mouth and running upstairs.

“Daddy you’re such a fucking jerk!” Bea said slamming her napkin down and chasing after Chloe.

“What did I say?” Mark asked innocently.

“Mark you know damn well. That is your daughter and someone who she really cares about. We’ve been married for 26 years and I’ve loved you every minute of it until now. I’m so ashamed of you.” Linda said jerking his dinner plate away from him to clean it.

“I just don’t understand where we went wrong.” Mark hissed watching his wife do the dishes.

“We!?” Linda stopped to stare daggers into her husband. “WE haven’t done anything wrong. YOU have.”

“Oh come on Linda. How can you be ok with your daughter bringing home a girl? I didn’t send her to that school to become gay. I sent her there to get a top notch education and find a man to help tend this farm and give us a house full of grandkids.”

“Mark, please listen to what you just said. It’s Bea’s life, not yours. We have to respect whatever decision she makes and that girl makes her gush and she loves her Mark. She makes Bea happy. Why can’t you accept that?” Linda stormed off leaving him mulling over his thoughts.

“Chloe?” Bea said desperately knocking on her door. “Please sweetie let me in.”

She could hear Chloe quietly sobbing on the bed, this was gonna be hard Bea thought as she collapsed against the door.

Linda approached quietly tapping on Bea’s shoulder, “If I may, I think it’s time for operation shingle shuffle.”

Bea couldn’t help but giggle at the memory of how operation shingle shuffle came about. It was her escape route when she needed to get away or hide out.

Bea went to her room and climbed onto the roof and started walking to the next window which was Chloe’s room. She entered and sat on the window seal taking in the crying blonde fetaled on the bed.

“Careful.” Bea started scaring Chloe. “You’re gonna ruin that pretty sweater with all them tears.”

“Go away.” Chloe mumbled. “I wanna be alone.”

“Ok.” Bea moved to climb back onto the roof when Chloe’s voice stopped her.

“No please. Don’t leave me.”

Bea’s heart shattered at the weakness in Chloe’s voice. She hurried over and gathered her girl in a hug. Slowly rubbing her back to comfort her.

“Chloe I’m so sorry. I never knew he would act that way.”

“Am I really that terrible?” Chloe asked sulking.

“No! Chloe you are amazing. Please don’t listen to my dad. He’s just not acclimated to this yet. I know he’s fighting it but I know he will come around.”

“And if he doesn’t? Bea, I cannot go through another altercation like that.”

“If he doesn’t? Then we pack up and never come back.”

“What?! This is your home, your parents! You would throw them away like that?”

“Chloe listen to me. Yes they are my parents and I love them. But I’m madly in love with you and right now, I need you way more than I need them. You are my entire world right now and hopefully for a long time.”

Chloe cried harder at the revelation, she knew how special this was, but to hear how much she meant to Bea, made her pride overwhelm her.

“I love you to Bea. So much. But I want this blessing, I want your parents approval.”

“Chloe?” Bea asked questioning her girlfriend. “That’s not necessary.”

“I don’t care what I have to do. I’m going to prove to your dad I’m not a loser and I am perfect for you. HE WILL RESPECT ME.”

Bea wasn’t about the argue. She knew when Chloe set her mind on something, she was bound and determined to do it.

Chloe pulled her phone out to set an early alarm, “Will 9:30 be early enough to start working?”

“Um Chloe? We start milking cows at 5am.”

Chloe nearly fainted, she’s never woken up before 7 am in her life. “5am!? That’s...that’s way too early! Can’t we start later?”

Bea snorted, she loved what was about to transpire in the morning. Chloe wasn’t a morning person at all. “Goodnight babe.” Bea kissed Chloe’s forehead. “See you at 5.”

[waywardnerd67]

Spiraling

Summary: If something could go wrong in (Y/N)’s life then it did. Now she is on the verge of spiraling out of control. In her darkest moment, a hero will come to save her and set her on the path she was always meant to be on. Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Self-hate Talk/Talk of Suicide Word Count: 5040 A/N: The last couple of months have been hard so this is my way of dealing with it. A lot of the details are from actual things going on in my life, but I’ve changed the specifics for storytelling purposes.

“Your cat needs emergency surgery to save her life. In order for us to proceed we need a down payment of $1500 and then the remaining $600 once she can go home.”

“Your starter is bad. You have a battery cable that is carotid. Plus we found that there is a leak in your head gasket and it will need to be replaced immediately. All together parts, labor and tax it will total $4976.”

“Effective Immediately: New Management. Your apartment complex is now under the management of Lindchest LLC. Your rent will go up starting November 2020 to $750 per month. There will be an additional pet deposit of $200 per pet and pet rent of $25 per pet. You will need to log on to our Tenant Portal to sign your lease within twenty-four hours or vacate your unit.”

I read the flyer that was haphazardly tape to my door once more. Looking down to Serenity, my cat with the $2100 bladder sighing, “Looks like you need to get a job.”

I unpacked my laptop letting it wake up only to discover that my internet was not working. I picked up my phone calling the all too familiar number.

“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/L/N), but it looks like there is a major outage in your area due to construction. We don’t have a timeframe of when it will be back up.”

I ended the call flopping down onto my couch, “I would love for one, just one, thing to go my way.”

The last month has been challenging between vet bills, my car being an oversized paper weight and my rent going up one hundred and seventy-five dollars plus two hundred dollar deposit. I did not think anything else could possibly go wrong until I arrived at work the next morning.

“Hey (Y/N), can we meet in my office?” my boss waved his hand for me to follow him.

A sinking feeling settled onto my chest as he asked me to close the door behind him, “I know we’ve had this conversation before, but your attendance.”

Tears welled up beneath my eyelids, but I held them back as he continued, “I know we’re trying to be cautious with COVID, but you’ve already been out sick quite a bit already.”

“I know I was, but my doctor recommended for me to stay out since I had more than half the symptoms of COVID.” My voice quivered at the end as my protective wall was crumbling.

He leant forward on his desk, “I know, but then it was your car issues and now you have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning that you just came to me about this morning. I just want to set up some firm guidelines for you using your time off from here on out. I would also like to see you come in for ninety days straight. (Y/N), you do a great job here, but you actually have to be here to do the job.”

“I know. I can reschedule my appointment for tomorrow and I will work with any guidelines you give me. I’m sorry about my attendance. I love my job and I love coming to work.” I was pleading as a wayward tear slipped down my cheek.

“I never once questioned that. We will work through this together. No need to reschedule your appointment since I approved it already. Going forward I will need at least one week's notice for you to use vacation days, forty-eight hours notice to use your personal days and twenty-four hours notice for your sick days.”

I nodded my agreement not trusting that I could hold the burning sob in my chest from bursting through. I left his office and spent the rest of my day in a complete daze. I drove home in the same daze only to have another flyer on my door from the new management.

“We Missed You! Dear Tenant, we entered your apartment today to make an assessment of it. We have found the following things broken, worn and in need of repair. Since this was not properly taken care of, you will be responsible for all repairs and they will need to be scheduled for completion within one week’s time. Please log on to your Tenant Portal to schedule this as soon as possible. Thank you, Lindchest, LLC”

I caught the edge of my kitchen counter as my legs gave out. The list of repairs was more than what I was renting the place for. I managed to get myself to my bedroom and landed face first on the mattress. Freely the tears flowed down my face and my body shook as overwhelming sorrow ran through her.

Serenity butted her head up against mine, “Hi baby. I’m sorry your mommy is a screw up. Would you want to go live with you grandma?”

She snuggled against my arm purring. My body relaxed as I continued to pet her and listen to her purring until finally I drifted off to sleep. Dreams of a better life tormented me throughout the night. The next morning, would solidify my darkest thoughts into a plan of action as the last bit of bad news I could take happened.

“We will need to extract two molars and all four wisdom teeth. I will refer you to an oral surgeon who can get you scheduled right away. After insurance, you’re probably looking at $1500 to $2000 for everything. You will have to provide fifty percent of the total at the time of service and then I’m sure they could work payments out for you.”

I took a deep breath, “Okay. If you could give me the information I will schedule it. I also need a note for my employer for today’s appointment.”

As I sat in the chair waiting for the dental assistant to come back my inner self yelled loudly.

“You are nothing in this world. You are providing nothing and only taking resources away from everyone. Serenity would be taken care of by your mom. Work will find someone to replace you in a snap. You have no friends. You have no place you can afford to live. I think it’s a sign from up above that now is your time to take matters in your own hands. It’s time to free up your space for someone more deserving. More functional. More worthy.”

“Everything okay?” I looked up to see the assistant holding my papers and I nodded.

I went through the motions of work as my mind was preoccupied of my choices for the evening. Texting my mom, I asked her to watch over Serenity for a while so I could find a new place for us. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary and I as I said goodbye to my co-workers for the evening, I felt peace come over me. Dropping off my cat to my mom, I told her I could not stay since I had plans. On my kitchen table there was one letter addressed to her that would be found when she would come get my things.  

I walked a half a mile down to a bridge that was over the river I lived by. The sun had gone down hours ago and now all that was left was for me to finally do something right.

***

Dean Winchester parked his car near the Jefferson Bridge watching as people came and went over it. His brother Sam was flirting with the local librarian, so Dean decided to give him the motel room for the night. He deserved it after all the crap they had gone through. He looked down at his watch, seeing it was coming up at midnight when something caught his eye.

A woman was looking over the wall down to the water. Suddenly he became antsy as he continued to watch her. He got out of his car casually walking towards her so as to not spook her. The cool night breeze blew through her beautiful (Y/C/H) hair. Her body was like a country dirt road with curves for days. His eyes were drifting down her body when she hopped up onto the wall and his heart leaped into his throat.

“Oh no pretty girl, don’t do what I think you’re trying to do.” He whispered as her eyes stayed focused on the water below.

Dean picked up his pace just in time reaching for her as she leapt from the bridge. His hands grasping underneath her arm and at her wrist.

“No! Let me go! Please let me go!” She yelled as I tried to pull her up.

“Sweetheart, trust me, life is not so bad that you should jump off a bridge. Let me help you, please.” He pleaded feeling something deep within him stirring.

She tried to fight against him, but he could feel her losing strength. With one swift move he had her sitting back up on the wall of the bridge. His arm tightly wrapped around her waist as she began to weep.

“No, this is meant to be. I’m not meant to be here. I’m nothing.” She tried to get out of his grasp unsuccessfully.

He pulled her off the wall and carried her to his car, “I’m positive that’s not true. Come on, why don’t I buy you some food and a drink then we can talk about it.”

Her body went rigid, “Why are you being nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

“It’s what I do, sweetheart. I help people who need it no matter what, but if it makes you feel better I’m Dean. Now how about some food and a drink because I’m starving.” He slowly let go of her as she looked down towards the ground.

“(Y/N).” she whispered as she reluctantly, she got in his car sliding across to the passenger side.

Dean drove to the bar nearby his motel glancing over to her every once in a while. Closer now, she was even more beautiful than he originally thought. (Y/N)’s eyes were soft (Y/C/E) and perfect pouty lips. Her body was turned towards her door as she looked out the window but he could imagine himself curling up next to her.

“Let me guess, you’re staying at the Chippewa Motel.” (Y/N) had turned towards him as they pulled into the bar parking lot.

He chuckled, “Yeah, why?”

She let out a soft laugh, “Because those are the only people who go to Sunset Bar.”

For a moment as they got out of the car, Dean’s chest tightened afraid that she would take off. He relaxed when she started walking towards the door and looked behind her to see if he was following. Walking inside, (Y/N) went to the furthest booth in the building. Dean took it upon himself to order them a couple of burgers and beers.

Waiting for their beers, he noticed quite a few men taking an interest in (Y/N). Even red and puffy eyed, she was still catching every man’s eye in the place. Quickly grabbing their beers, he made his way to her staring down every man on the way. He bumped the bottle on her arm motioning for her to move over.

“Thanks.” She muttered, taking a sip and curling herself up on the far end of the bench.

“I wouldn’t normally sit like this with a total stranger, but I think it’s safer for you if I do.” He watched as her eyes followed his widening.

She moved a little closer to him just enough for his fingers to brush against her shoulder, “As much as I don’t want to be a part of this world anymore that is not the way I want to go out.” She waved her bottle out towards the dispersing crowd of men.

“Why do you want to end it all?” His curiosity was getting the best of him.

A beautiful woman like (Y/N) should have everything the world could offer her. Happiness, money, love. His heart skipped at the very word. He pushed it from his mind refocusing on her.

“Have you ever wondered if God was punishing you for something you had no idea you did wrong?” She took a long drag from her bottle and Dean found himself swallowing hard.

“All the freaking time.” He chuckled remembering the recent bombshell that he and Sam were destined to kill one another because of God’s need for a good ending to his story.

She sighed looking up as the bartender brought their food to them. For the first time, (Y/N) genuinely smiled, “Bacon cheeseburgers are my favorite.”

“Mine too.” He smiled back at her before they each took a large bite.

For the next half an hour explaining everything that had gone wrong in her life up until today. From bad decisions, divorce, mental breakdown one and two, loss of jobs, unemployment, her cat, her car, her current job and her tooth. He had to admit the string of bad luck was hard to deny. None of which was a good enough reason to end her life.

When the waitress came for our plates, (Y/N) asked for a glass of water finishing off her beer. I placed my large hand on top hers covering it completely.

“I’m sorry you’ve been through so much and nearly all of it is out of your control. If you could do anything except end your life, what would you do?”

“Well if money was no option then I would grab Serenity and start a new life somewhere far away. Of course, I would keep in contact with my mom, but she would understand me leaving.” She stared off for a moment her face softening at the very thought of leaving.

Before he could stop to think about the words coming from his mouth they were already hitting her delicate ears, “I think I could help you with that.”

“W-What?” Her piercing eyes bore into his with hope, “How could you help me?”

“That is a conversation for a more private place and whiskey.” He chuckled and down the rest of his beer.

Dean started laughing as she practically pushed him out of the booth, “Well come on hero, I know a place that is private enough to talk.”

He threw a few bills down on the table for a tip and allowed (Y/N) to drag him from the bar. She directed him back towards the bridge except this time she pointed to a small, run down apartment complex. He parked next to the car (Y/N) pointed out to be hers, a newer SUV.

“I will deal with you tomorrow.” He pointed to the vehicle giving it a stern look.

Following (Y/N) up the stairs to her little studio apartment, “This is where the hiked up the rent?”

She nodded, “Yeah. At the time, it was the cheapest place to live. You just happen to be in luck that I have a bottle of whiskey stashed away. It’s in the cabinet above the fridge. I’m going to change out of my clothes and freshen up a little.”

Dean watched her disappear behind a room divider and made himself tear his eyes away from watching her gorgeous silhouette. Easily grabbing the bottle and two cups from a local Mexican restaurant he noticed a letter on the table.

“Mom, I know you’re upset. No, I know you’re pissed. I gave up. I didn’t come to you like I promised I would. I couldn’t come to you again with all my problems. I truly believe I was not meant to be in this world and that is why my life has been one shit show after another. I’m taking resources away from this world and not contributing to it. Honestly, everything will move on and you will live out the rest of your life not having to worry about me anymore.

Please take care of Serenity for me. Give her all the hugs and snuggle her extra for me. Mom, this was never your fault and there was nothing you could have done to save me. My mind is made up. The decision was made. I want you to remember what good times there were. I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m sorry for leaving you. Please know I love you very, very much. Goodbye. Love, (Y/N)”

“That wasn’t for you to read.” A small voice brought his eyes from the page but not before a few teardrops could fall onto the page, “You’re crying, why?”

He wiped away the tears falling down his cheeks, “I-I don’t know. I guess reading a suicide note brings out my inner Mr. Sensitivity.”

He tried to give her a sad smile chuckling, but his heart shattering into pieces made it hard too. She took the bottle and cups leading him to the small loveseat. They sat down before downing their first pours of whiskey. The amber liquor burning down his throat and warming his chest. He poured them both another drink before going into his own story.

“My brother and I travel across the country hunting all kinds of… things that go bump in the night.” Dean completely opened up about everything in his life. Carefully watching her every reaction as he spoke and only felt that there was once she wanted to bolt for the door.

“Wait…” she took the bottle and drank from it, “monsters are real?”

He nodded grabbing the bottle for himself, “Yep. Vampires, werewolves, chupacabras.”

Taking a drink, he handed it back to her allowing it all to sink in, “Okay so how does that help me? I’m not interested in hunting monsters or being a monster.”

“Well that’s good because I wouldn’t allow a beautiful woman to become either of those things. I was thinking more along the lines of teaching you how we manage to get unlimited money and then you could move wherever your heart desires. Is that more your speed?”

She nodded, “Now you’re speaking my language. God, it would be amazing to live somewhere remote where I could just write all day long.”

“Well, Sam and I can make that happen for you. We’re probably going to be leaving to head back home in a couple of days. You could travel with us then we could get you all set up and on a plane to all points nowhere, USA.”

Suddenly, (Y/N) launched herself into his arms hugging him tightly, “I can’t thank you enough, Dean.”

His arms wrapped around her and everything felt complete with her, it was strange for him to feel that way. Never once had he ever felt whole but a never ending void deep in his soul that was closing being near her. She pulled away slightly then pressed her lips to his cheek.

***

The next day, Dean had a heated conversation with his brother Sam. Once he was off the phone, he confirmed that I would follow them back to Lebanon, Kansas in my car once he fixed it. He dropped me off at work where everyone noticed the one hundred eighty degree mood change in me. I spent my last hour typing a resignation letter to my boss leaving it on his desk and packing up the few personal items I had.

Dean was waiting for me in the parking lot with his beloved car, “How was work?”

“It was… good. I’m happy to never have to go back to it again though.” He opened the door for me to slide in.

“Dean, would it be okay to stop by my mom’s to get Serenity?” His piercing emerald eyes narrowed for a split second before he smirked.

“Yeah, we can go get the furball.” He chuckled pulling out of the parking lot and leaving that part of me behind us.

I found out that Dean was an amazing liar, but also charming. He won my mom over in a few short minutes as Serenity jumped up onto my lap. I petted her a few times before resting my cheek against the top of her head.

I whispered to her, “Go check him and let me know what you think.”

I watched the shorthair tabby jump off her lap and up onto Dean’s. She sniffed him as he held his hand out to her. His nose began to twitch and she jumped down with a huff before he sneezed.

“Sorry furball, I’m allergic to you.” He sniffled before excusing himself to the bathroom.

Serenity meowed up at me before getting in her crate. The fact she did not hiss was a good sign and I closed her crate up after one last pet.

“So, how did you really meet Dean?” I knew my mom could see right through his story, so I told her the truth, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you should have come to me.”

“I know, but I just couldn’t. I was tired of being a screw up. I gave up.” The last few words were a whisper as my mom got up to sit next to me.

Her arms were around me as tears fell from both of our eyes, “Well I’m glad he saved you. Did you find a place to live?”

I pulled away from her, “Kind of. Dean and his brother are going to help me settle into a new spot. I will call you with all the details.”

I looked up to see Dean standing behind us, “I promise to take care of her.”

“Sounds like you already have. Thank you for saving my daughter.” In a rare moment, I watched as my mom got up hugging someone other than me. Dean was tense for a moment before hugging her back.

The rest of the evening and into the night, Dean spent working on my car. I sat outside with him on the green cooler from his car handing him tools. Grease covered his arms, hands and clothes.

“Hey tiny fingers, come here and get this bolt off.” He called out from under the engine.

I stepped on top of the cooler reaching over looking down to see his beautiful eyes staring back at me. Reaching down my fingers brushed against his as I loosened the bolt in question. Getting down off the cooler I found myself straddling over Dean’s chest as he slid out from underneath the car.

“Hey there pretty girl.” He smirked as I moved back from him.

“Ha. Ha. So, what’s the verdict?” I watched as he stood up seemingly towering over me.

I tried hard to concentrate on him, but between the leather musk on his skin and engine grease was making me dizzy, “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?”

“What? Sorry, what did you say?” I felt my face burning as he stepped closer to me.

“Am I distracting you from paying attention?” Backing up until my butt was against his car, his hands rested on either side of me caging me in.

“I have n-no idea what you’re talking about. So, tell me is my car a goner?” I swallowed the large lump knotted in my throat.

Dean leaned in closer until their noses were almost touching tilting his head slightly, “Your car is fine. The mechanic was trying to get more money out of you. The head gasket is in great shape.”

He stepped back with a smug grin on his face and my body seemingly followed along with him before I stopped it, “That’s great news! The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

The next morning, I woke up  to low murmuring voices. One was distinctively Dean’s voice, “Sammy, I don’t know how else to say it clearer.”

His brother spoke in a concerned hushed tone, “I think you need to come up with another way because you’re sounding ridiculous right now.”

“All I know is that I have never felt this way in my life. Cassie, Jo, Lisa, none of them made me feel complete. None of them took away the gaping, endless void inside of me. I didn’t even think it was possible to feel this way, but here I am.”

Dean sounded distressed and that made my chest ache. I knew exactly how he was feeling since I had felt it since the moment we met. I had been trying to ignore the comfort and hope swelling inside me, but it was getting harder.

“Sounds like you’re talking about love at first sight or even soulmates.” Sam seemed more curious now than frustrated.

I took this opportunity to walk out from behind the wall divider, “Good morning.”

Dean’s eyes met me first bringing a warm smile to his handsome face, “Hey (Y/N), good morning. We didn’t wake you up?”

I shook my head feeling Sam’s gaze on me as I looked down at Dean’s Zeppelin t-shirt covering me, “Um I spilled spaghetti sauce on my last clean shirt. Dean was nice enough to let me borrow one of his.” I felt my face heating up as Sam nodded.

“Uh-huh.” He stood up walking towards me. Sam loomed over me pulling a flask from his jacket pocket, “Could you stick out your arm for me, please?”

I looked over to Dean who was rolling his eyes, “Sam it’s not necessary.”

“It is for me,” He looked at me as I brought my arm out and he poured what seemed to be water on my arm, “Okay, just a few more tests to go.”

I held a bandana from Dean over the small cut on my arm wincing, “What was that for?”

Sam wiped the blade on his jacket as Dean pushed him back gently. His vibrant olive eyes focused on tying the bandana, “Silver blade to make sure you’re not a werewolf or shapeshifter.”

“I’m sorry to be this way, but this whole situation is weird and I have to protect my brother,” Sam held his hand out to me, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

I shook his hand, “Yeah, nice to meet you too. Look, as strange as you both think this is, I feel the same way.”

I made sure to look at Dean when I spoke and his eyes widened, “Really?”

I nodded, “There’s a connection here that I can’t explain. Frankly, I don’t care if it’s ever explained to me. All I know is that being with you feels right.”

Sam's disapproving grunt had us both looking to him, “I think we should do a little more research into this. We should definitely get back to the Bunker and maybe ask Rowena for some help.”

A soft meow came from the ground below as Serenity rubbed against Sam’s legs affectionately. He knelt down petting her and I was surprised to see her go belly up.

“Wow, you must be an animal lover because Serenity has never done that with anyone but me.” I knelt down as well petting her soft fur.

For the first time, I watched Sam let down his guard and chuckled, “I’m usually a dog person but hard to say no to a cat who accepts you.”

“Wonderful, you and the furball can take (Y/N)’s car while she and I ride in Baby.” Dean slipped his arm around my shoulders bringing me into his side.

Sam nodded silently as his eyes never left me. It felt as if he were trying to read me, but there was nothing to reveal. By late morning, we were on the road to Lebanon, Kansas. It would be at least a day’s travel to get there, which Dean reassured me that they had done longer trips than this before. We filled the time by talking about everything from childhoods to Winchester's most interesting hunts. When I would get sleepy, Dean would pull me into his side and turn on his favorite mixtape. Being with him was as easy as breathing to me.

After a few stops for food and gas, we finally hit the city limits of Lebanon. The small town looked straight out of a 50’s sitcom. As we drove out of the rustic town, we drove down a long paved drive behind what looked to be an abandoned building of some kind. I was shocked when we came upon a large set of doors that opened into a full stocked garage.

“Welcome home.” Dean said as he parked his car with Sam pulling up next to him.

The Men of Letters Bunker, as the brother called it, was massive. Sam happily told me the history of the secretive group and how their family tied into it. Dean walked by my side with his fingers laced with mine holding my hand. We came to a door with the number eleven on it and Dean pulled her inside.

“This is my room. Of course, it’s the coolest room here except for maybe the Fortress of Deanitude.”

I looked around at all the weapons displayed on the walls. His massive record collection was set up in bins. His desk contained a computer, a small lamp and a tiny picture. I picked it up seeing Dean who was a young child with a woman he looked familiar too.

He gently took the picture from my hand, “My mom and I. It’s the last picture of us together before she was killed,” he placed the picture back in its spot.

After getting Serenity and I settled into our new room, I found myself overcome with exhaustion. Laying down on my new bed with Serenity lying next to me, I feel into the most peaceful night of sleep I have had in awhile. Dreams of adventures with Dean filling my head.

***

Dean sat with Sam in the Library, a soft smile permanent etched onto his face. Sam’s nose was nearly pressed against his computer screen looking into (Y/N). He was waiting for Rowena to call him back when a familiar voice came from near the Bunker door.

“You would have to go find your soulmate and end the world, Winchester.”

Sam and Dean looked up to see Billie standing tall holding her scythe, her hard eyes glaring down at them.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[leggomylino]

Pushing Up Daisies | Seo Changbin

Genre: fluff, crack, comedy, college au, secret admirer/stalker au

Pairing: Seo Changbin x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

A/n: Masterlist(s) linked down below and in bio!!! | Requested by @hanniiesuckle17​ <3

— ✔✘✔✘ —

Darkness fell like a cloud over the room, a hazy mist where Changbin found the most comfort. It was a place where he felt calm, collected, cool, and accepted.

It was also the place he resided to watch Y/n L/n. The cute new transfer student from out of town.

Now, he didn’t think what he was doing was creepy. Or weird. Or immature. Not by any means; he was simply keeping an eye on her to make sure she was safe; the library could be a dangerous place, and there were all sorts of sick and twisted weirdos running around at this late hour of six p.m. that purposely targeted nice foreign girls like Y/n. He’d seen it happen all the time. It was more common than he’d like to admit. Which is why it was up to him to keep an eye out for her, since Chan was working late (again) at the studio and the mighty Lord knew Han Jisung wasn’t gonna do jack squat, especially not after Hyunjin had to go mentioning the grand opening of some new restaurant called...Factory Cheesecake? Cake Factory? Something like that.

That only left himself to rely upon. The only one truly trustworthy and qualified to keep Y/n safe. Even if it meant having to—

“Changbin!”

Clank. “OW!”

Rubbing his now slightly swollen forehead, he turned around the cramped space to peer over his shoulder. “What is it? What are you doing up here?”

Felix bowed his head, an apology hanging in the air. “Sorry. Seungmin sent me to get you. He said he’s clocking out in five minutes and he doesn’t want to get in trouble for your…“deed.”” He blinked. “He used other words I’d rather not repeat, though.”

Changbin scratched his chin. Ah, yes. The perks of having a roommate that worked part-time at the campus library: free access anywhere, so long as they’re on duty. And you don’t get caught. Like that one time he and Han scoured the back storage room for vaults holding the answer key to Mr. Kim’s final, and...well, that wasn’t important now. “Tell him I’ll be down in ten. I think she’s almost done.”

Felix glanced through the slits of the metal air duct, then back at his buddy. “...Are you sure you’ve really thought this through all the way?” His face scrunched up in an awkwardly distasteful matter, and he looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to commit such a crime. Like what he was doing was even criminal. “Why don’t you just talk to her? Instead of...y’know…” He blinked, gesturing to the cramped space around them. “Hiding in the air duct? It’s kinda creepy, is what I’m saying. And unethical...actually, very creepy and very unethi—“

“Okay! I got it already!” Changbin waved his hands. He didn’t need to hear this from someone he cared about. “Shoo, shoo! Go have dinner with Hyunjin and the bottomless cake pit.”

“You mean Han?”

“Duh.”

...Sighing, Felix left without another word. 

Finally—

“...I really think you should just talk to her!” His voice echoed. Changbin sighed.

...Okay, a few words. “Go!!!”

His harsh command bounced around the narrow chamber, spiraling down out of the air duct. Gasp. He covered his mouth, praying to heaven no one heard him; peering down, the study corner Y/n was in— if not the library itself— was nearly vacant, with only one other student reading at a far table and a few stragglers making their final choices.

It would appear his voice had gone unnoticed. Phew.

Y/n was still standing at the same shelf. She’d been standing there for over twenty minutes, occasionally pacing back and forth a few steps, side-to-side, trying to make up her mind. Most guys hated that, but Changbin couldn’t help but find it cute and endearing; like a lost little star trying to find her way home, calculating the best route, hesitant, waiting to shine. Most guys took it as a lacking sign to confidence, but to Changbin, it just showed that she was smart. She didn’t want to barrel straight ahead; she gathered data, took notes, and made the best option that would satisfy both her needs and her interests. And to Changbin, there was nothing hotter than that...

Suddenly, her hand moved. The one with the leather watch she wore, rumored to be a gift from her father. It was worn and frayed, the inseam splitting at the ends. Brown; tan. A simple clock face encased in basic sterling silver. She wore it everyday, but it’d been a while since he’d seen the pleated pink skirt that swayed above her ankles, or the matching floral-printed scarf—

Her hand brushed against the spine of a worn old poetry catalogue. Oh no. This is it. She’s really going for it. His letter…

She was so close to finding it. Twice a week, Changbin would rush down seven flights of stairs and across five blocks of campus property to make it to the library an hour before Y/n was set to arrive, as she always visited the library after English 1302 on Mondays and Wednesdays. Something about departing from that class must have left her longing for more, he figured; she was a writing major, after all. He didn’t do well under too much pressure, so after panicking about what he was going to say this time, he’d steal borrow some of Seungmin’s fancy calligraphy paper in order to write her a poem, something soft and...what was that word he’d looked up last week...lilting, which he was pretty sure meant the same thing as uplifting and...happy. Then he’d have Seungmin (one time Han; big mistake) hack into her leasing record in order to find out which books she was currently into, or which ones she had on hold. He’d carefully and strategically place the handwritten poem inside the book’s first few pages.

The book was in her hands now. She’d chosen his book! Again! She was examining the cover...flipping it over…...now, she was…?

...She put it back.

Again. He lowered his head with a sigh. Game over. You lost again. He gripped his hands into fists; when? When would he learn? When would it be his turn to win?! …!

Oh? What was this…?

A figure turned the left corner too fast, crashing into Y/n. She stumbled to the right, dropping said book as well as her belongings and sending them somersaulting to the pale blue carpet.

The letter he’d tucked between pages four and five spiraled out a foot away. Unopened, still sealed securely in a crisp white envelope with a Molang sticker. He’d heard she liked him.

Some Shady Guy was now talking to Y/n. “I’m so sorry! Let me help you— I’ll get—”

Y/n picked the book off the ground, dusting and checking it for damages like her first priority. She was so selfless, caring more for a damaged old tomb rather than her shiny new laptop and fancy water bottle. “Oh, no, that’s okay, don’t worry about it…” 

Her eyes fell upon the letter. Changbin held his breath. Oh no. Not now. Not with some punk watching! The moment would be totally ruined!!!

Shady Guy beat her to it, his undeserving fingers tainting Changbin’s craft. “Here. Is this yours?” He examined it. Smirked. Disgusting. “Cute. Aren’t you a little old for cartoons, though?”

Who here gave you permission to judge her?! ...Wait.

Y/n took the letter, frowning. “I don’t think so...Molang is for girls and boys of all ages. He’s cute. But, this isn’t mine…someone must have left it as a bookmark.” Her eyes swept the room. “I’ll go return it to the front desk.”

The… The front… 

His face hardened. What?! No!!! That’s your letter! URGH!!! Were girls always this frustrating?! ...And why is this guy still standing so close?! … … 

It couldn’t be helped; with defeat, he watched the two of them walk away.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The next day at lunch, Minho squinted at him in anger.

“I can’t believe you skipped out on dinner with us again to go stalk the new girl.”

Beside him, Hyunjin huffed his agreement over a juice box that was meant for a five year old. Changbin groaned. “It’s not stalking. You make it sound like I’m a pervert or something...I’m not, I’m just…”

...His voice trailed off into a long, steady exhale. Beside him, Seungmin rolled his eyes. “Next time, at least quit using the air vent. I’m tired of growing a collection of ulcers in my gut because I’m afraid you’re going to make one wrong move and come crashing down through the ceiling like doom over Narnia, and then we’re both going to get in trouble for it.” He practically slammed down his bowl of soba. “I need this job, Bin.”

Across the outdoor picnic table, Minho froze halfway through unwrapping his sandwich, Hyunjin nearly choking on his orange juice. The former of the two cast a chilling glare while Hyunjin fought through a coughing fit. “You…”

Crap. And just when he’d thought Seungmin would be the least likely to open his big mouth. Changbin pressed his lips into a hard line before speaking. “...It’s not what you think—”

“Isn’t it, though?!” Hyunjin blurted. His juice box went flying into the nearest trash can as he pointed drastically in the direction of the library a few blocks down. Dance majors. “You’re telling me you’ve been bailing on dinner with us at the best new restaurant in town to go crawl through the dusty library airways and spy on a girl who doesn’t even know you?!”

“Say it a little louder, why don’t you!” Changbin hissed. “And hey,” he added, leaning over his ramen. “We’ve talked before. We’re in the same writing class.”

“Over a project!” The Dance major roared. “That hardly counts!”

He and Changbin both fell back into their seats with a thud, exhausted with each other. Minho sighed. “Well,” he mumbled, “I guess we’re just going to have to show him.”

At this, everyone gave Seoul University’s one and only Bundle Boy a quizzical look. “What do you mean?” Seungmin asked.

Bundle Boy smiled, already stacking his leftovers. “Come on. Finish eating already and we’ll show you.”

Hyunjin blinked, gesturing back and forth between the two of them. “We…?”

Smack. “Just do it already. Let’s go. Quickly.”

Stunned, he had no choice but to inhale his soup on the way over.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The library was ironically closed for renovations that day; something about a generous donation from some well-to-do politician wanting his name engraved along the school walls. Whatever.

After bribing Seungmin into using his key, in the very same room where Y/n had been pondering her next private adventure surfing amongst old worn pages, Minho placed his hands on his hips, taking the roll of stage director. “Okay, now.” He pointed left. “Hyunjin, you go backstage. Pick a book off the shelf and get yourself ready. You two,” he piped, startling the remaining cast members, “will sit over there. Watch how it’s done.”

“......” Side-eyeing the other, Changbin and Seungmin took their seats at a nearby study table. The former could tell the latter was regretting his decision to let them in already.

Minho smiled. “Great,” he said, taking what was supposed to be Center Stage. “Now—” 

Seungmin raised his hand. The director sighed. 

“Yes?”

Seungmin lowered his hand with a soft plop. “Do I really have to be here for this? Don’t we all have better things to be doing right now?”

...It was a fair question. But Minho didn’t really seem to care much for fairness. “Yes, this is a team effort. I’m telling Chan you said that at our next rehearsal.”

The boy groaned.

“Now,” Director Bundle began. “Watch and learn how the pros do this. I’ll be Changbin, and Hyunjin is Y/n.” He turned his head to the side. “Cue!!!”

The lights suddenly dimmed, shocking the audience as they looked around curiously. “I could have sworn no one was on staff today,” Minnie mumbled.

Then the lights rose again, slowly in escalation, as a far-too-tall and far-too-muscular Y/n entered Stage Right. His eyes blinked wildly from atop the horizon of an encyclopedia about frogs. “Look,” he cooed, voice far too high and squeaky. Changbin and Seungmin both cringed. “I’m Y/n! I love books and boys and all the many girlish wonders that girls like me enjoy! Teehee!”

...Dear Lord, strike him now. Changbin rose from his seat. “Stop!!!”

His cry fell on deaf ears as the show went on, Minho turning and giving his best, dreamiest, disgustingly playboy-ish smile. “You’re Y/n?”

Hyunjin giggled (to which Changbin felt sick), the book never leaving the lower half of his face. “That’s me!”

“Changbin” (Minho) cocked his head aside, shifting his bangs to the right. Seungmin gagged. “That’s a cute name. A cute name for an even cuter gi—”

Fzzt! ...The power went out.

From the far corner, the real Changbin glared a storm across the room, holding the power extension cord too tightly. “That’s enough,” he grumbled, tossing the extension aside. “I didn’t come here for you to mock me. Or her. I’m not sure what I’m more angry about: the fact that you dare mock an innocent girl, someone I care about, to my face...or the fact that the two of you are supposed to be my friends.”

Hyunjin tossed his book on the table, doing his best sassy Dance major pose: a hand on his hip, knee slightly bent, head tilted to the side. Dance majors. “You can’t say you care about her, Changbin. You hardly know her.”

“I told you we’ve spoken on more than one occasion!”

“Over a project! That doesn’t count!”

“You said it hardly counts before!!”

“Yeah?! Well now I’m changing my answer!!!”

“Okay, okay…” Seungmin rose from his seat, wading between the two. “That’s enough. Fighting never solves anything.” He peered over his shoulder, focusing his gaze between the shelves. “Also, you need to keep your voices down— I’m not losing my job over something this dumb.”

“......” With a grunt, Changbin marched his way toward the exit; Screw these guys, whatever. He didn’t need their help and never asked for it anyway. He was doing just fine in his relationship with Y/n that...didn’t quite exist… 

He’d almost made it to the door until Hyunjin stopped him. The should-have-been Drama major’s long fingers curved harshly over Changbin’s bulky shoulder. 

“...Just face it, Bin,” he whispered. “Y/n...she’s one of those girls. A bookworm. She’s out there. Way out there.” He sighed. The whole room seemed to. “Girls like her live on another planet. You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you.”

“......” 

Changbin scoffed, carrying his storm out of the room.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

At 2:46 a.m that night (morning?), Changbin lied awake in his dorm room, pondering many things. Too many things that shouldn’t have had any connection whatsoever, yet did all the same. Because life was messy, and love was fornot.

What is it with girls? He thought. I’ve never put so much thought into one before. They were just...there, and then Y/n showed up, and suddenly it’s like I forgot how to read. I saw her smiling, looking all pretty by the lecture hall window...I know I’ve written a song about her before.

Shift. The gray wall facing him gave no comfort.

...And what about them? Hyunjin, Minho, Seungmin...criticizing and judging me like that… Hyunjin… He had no right to say that to me. “You’ll be pushing up daisies before she agrees to go on a date with you!1!1!” ...Pfft. Please. What does he know?! Who does he think he is giving me advice? About Y/n?? After his horrible misrepresentation of her?!? ...Man, I miss Jeongin. I wonder when he’ll be back from his field trip...

Toss. The ceiling was no help either.

Then again… Is it really that strange? I was just keeping an eye on her. She should be grateful, right? Who doesn’t like having protection throughout the day? … … 

Sigh. ...Maybe… Maybe it is kinda weird what I’ve been doing...how I’ve been acting...my behavior… … … 

Turn. The ticking of the far clock mocked him. All his lost hours of sleep...tormented by his own thoughts...

… … … 

“...Hnnn!” 

Shift. Toss. Sigh. Turn. Watching the seconds pass him by Changbin rolled about in agony, puzzled and tried over the last few weeks. Perhaps, as Hyunjin had said, even before his most recent insult, Changbin’s behavior as of late really had been “ugh.” …

A pillow fell over his face. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Maybe, as ridiculous as it all was, Minho and Hyunjin had been onto something; maybe all he needed to do was introduce himself. Start fresh, simple, anew. Maybe, this whole time, all he needed was to treat Y/n like a person he was interested in, rather than a science experiment he had to guard from afar. Maybe, just maybe, all he needed to do was say “hello”...

Unfortunately for him, “hello” was currently the word he was most afraid of.

“Changbin…”

He rolled over, peering down at the lower bunk; what could he say, except, Music and Photography majors didn’t make that much? At least not as undergrads. “Hm?”

Seungmin squinted up at him with sleepy eyes. “Turn off the light. I have two exams tomorrow…”

Shoot. Changbin grimaced, reaching for the switch. “...Sorry.”

Chink. Lights out. 

“...Changbin?”

Chink. Lights on. “Yes?”

“......” Seungmin sat up, trailing his drowsy behind to the guest couch on the other side of the 12 x 10 room, the one Chan or Han sometimes crashed on during late nights producing or editing soundtracks. He pulled a blanket over his head, curling up beneath it like a puppy. “...Do you wanna talk about yesterday?”

Changbin scoffed, shifting his gaze to glare anywhere else. “...Like I’d wanna spend my precious time talking about those two.”

“So it is bothering you.”

Changbin fell silent.

“...The fact that you’re awake right now tells me that you’re letting them get to you. You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not! I never said they were bothering me!”

“It’s what you didn’t say that tells me otherwise.”

Changbin huffed. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

“I have two, actually,” the boy answered. “One at eight and one at nine.”  

“Then go to bed. Quit worrying about me and mind your own business. Class starts in a few hours.”

Chink. Lights out.

...But though he rolled over, pulling the sheets above his head and facing the gray wall, the annoying brat missing from the lower bunk didn’t move. In fact, Changbin could feel his eyes burning a rash on his skin, spelling out the words, you’re lying; accept your feelings. Talk to me.

Chink! He swung back up into a sitting position. 

“Okay, fine! Sheesh…” he groaned. Below, Seungmin almost bounced in delight, were he not engaged in a battle of fending off certain unconsciousness.

“Great...tell me what’s troubling you.”

“...That’s…” 

Good grief. That was far easier said than done. He’d become so defensive, the automatic response to escape Changbin’s lips were always, “That’s none of your business,” “It’s none of your concern,” “Quit asking me about it.” 

Now, here he was, at confession hours. He adjusted himself, the words swirling in his gut; hissing at the proposal of facing sunlight, wishing to remain buried. “...I just…” He began picking at the fabric around his legs. “...I don’t feel like myself lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so tired… Everything was fine until Y/n came here. Now…” He breathed. “...It’s like I can’t do anything properly anymore, and I’m not myself at all. I lost myself the moment I walked into class, and she was standing there, smiling under the sunshine and fluorescent lighting. ...Argh, listen to me! I never said crap like this before she came! It sounds so stupid!”

Seungmin continued to listen, patiently, as Changbin spilled his thoughts. Every waking thought he’d had since a few Monday’s ago. He nodded his head...starting to sway…

“...And it’s like, I’m saying all these words I’ve never even heard of before, y’know? You’ve noticed it too, right? Like my vocabulary is proliferating. It’s a nightmare! But...what really scares me is…” 

He paused. On the couch, Seungmin fell over, beginning to snore softly.

“...I don’t like the person that I’ve become. I heard it said before that when you fall in love, or some garbage like that, you’re supposed to...become a better person? That learning from that person is supposed to help you mature? … All I’ve learned to do is become...some creepy stalker. I never saw myself becoming like this, not for a minute, but with her it’s like...I totally…”

“...Zzzk!” Seungmin sat up. “...Hm? What? ...Oh, uh…” He rubbed his eyes. “I heard you, I swear I did. Hang on…” He yawned, squinting upward. “...You’re not learning from her.”

Changbin turned toward the couch. “What?”

Seungmin adjusted himself, working at removing a year’s worth of sleep in his eyes. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure. Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”

To this, Changbin opened his mouth to give back some witty reply he’d stored in his new-found vocabulary somewhere, but of course, the boy dozed off, getting away with the last word like he usually did.

Pssh. Even his internal clock is in sync with his antics. Spoiled brat. That sure was a lot of words for three a.m...

… … …

He let those words reside with him. “You haven’t been following her example. You’ve been letting your unchecked emotions run all over you. It’s an act of immaturity and being insecure.”

… … …  

“Also, what you said before is only true if you and the other person are both mature, and share an intimate relationship. You don’t. And you’re not mature.”

… … … 

...Bah! He hated it. Hated hearing it, the way it sounded out loud, directed at him. 

But perhaps it was a bitter truth he had to overcome. 

“Tomorrow, you can always start anew.” ...That was a lyric from one of his favorite songs, from a rapper he admired all too well. Perhaps...maybe…

Tomorrow, I too, can start anew. … … 

...Reaching over, he turned out the light.

— ✔✘✔✘ —

The next day was Wednesday. The climax of every week. Shouts of “hUMP DAYYYY!!!” could be heard echoing around campus corridors, with students and faculty scurrying this way and that, some walking with direction and purpose, a few jogging, and others moving to a slow, leisurely pace, just getting out of class or having nowhere in particular to be.

For Changbin, it was a day of change. When the sun rose, after ignoring it for a few extra hours in defiance toward the clock that mocked him, he got dressed, ate a waffle, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair with his fingers as he hustled out the door.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him outside the door. “Ready for—”

“Busy,” he called over his shoulder.

English 1302 wasn’t until 3 p.m., but seeing as it was currently noon and he only had three hours to set himself straight, well...setting yourself straight was a daunting task. He’d need all the time he could get. Ignoring the fact that Chan and Han followed him out of the dorms and down two blocks while muttering precariously puzzling things, he set his focus solely on his current destination.

“I’m here,” he announced, slamming his bag on the front desk. Behind the library counter, Seungmin sighed, tilting his head back. 

“I’m not letting you into the air vents anymore. I told you, I’m done.” He glanced at the clock behind him. “Aren’t you a little early? Your class hasn’t even started yet. I thought you’d still be sleeping.”

“Can’t. No time.” Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his English textbook, the one with a soda stain he’d have to pay for later thanks to Yours Truly (Han Jisung). Seungmin observed it curiously.

“What’s this?”

“My textbook.”

“...We don’t have stain remover. Try the laundry room.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, biting his lip. Don’t let pride get to you right now. “...I uh…” He cleared his throat. “...It’s not that. I want you to help me study. I’d like to have something to fall back on, when talking to Y/n. In case things fall flat.”

When he looked up, the expression on Seungmin’s face was that of a thousand suns. Like the skies had cleared, and the war was over. It looked like something Shakespeare or Dr. Seuss would write about. “At last,” he said, “the drought has ended. Seeds have sprouted. There really is a brain in there.”

Changbin swatted at him. “Just shut up and tell me when your next break is.”

— ✔✘✔✘ —

“Y/n?”

Her name came rolling out of Changbin’s mouth like a stone. It started light, yet gained velocity and fell into the pool of sweat at his feet with a heavy thud.

The moment she turned around, sitting up a little straighter, a little taller, looking him right in the eyes, his mind went blank. “Yeah! What’s up?”

… … … 

He had no idea what was up. What was up? What was down? Which way was it to the nearest train station so he could use the last of his tuition money to board a train and haul it all the way to the highest bridge so he could— …

Cool, Changbin. Play it cool. The sun has risen, so you’re Mature Bin now. “Uhh…”

“......” She listed her head. “Yeah?”

“......”

“......”

“...Cake!” he blurted.

She blinked, shifting herself back while the surrounding pews started. “I’m sorry?”

“Ahh…!” Changbin adjusted himself. Took a deep breath. 

Still cool. Roll with it. 

“......” He smiled. “...Cake, uh...there’s a new cake shop that opened downtown.” He pointed...somewhere towards the door. “I was wondering if...maybe you’d...like some?”

The kindness that radiated off her features made his heart soar. “Are you asking me to come with you?”

“......” He nodded, looking away. But from the corner of his eye, he could still see her smile.

“Okay! I’d love to. Say, after class?”

He nodded again, more fervently. “...But aren’t you going to the library after this?”

Her gaze turned a bit sour and peculiar. “You...know about that? You must have seen me before.” 

Having walked in right on cue at 2:59, Hyunjin made an irate sound that wasn’t unusual of a sassy Dance major such as himself. Dance majors. “Oh, he’s seen you, alright. He—”

The nearest pencil went flying towards his head, marking his pretty boy face.

“Ahh! Seriously?!” He rummaged through his bag. “I have practice after this!”

Having turned away before, Y/n examined both men curiously before clearing her desk space for class. “Well, it can’t be helped. I do spend a lot of time there, so you were bound to pick up on it subconsciously, I’m sure.”

“Yes. That’s exactly it.”

He and Hyunjin shared a glare.

She giggled, shaking her head. “Alright then! How about this: we’ll stop by the library, and then we can go to the cake shop from there. Sound good?”

He grinned from ear to ear; blissfully, simply, politely. But most importantly: in control. “Yeah, sounds good. Oh, and Y/n?”

The clock struck three, the professor walking in right on cue. As his voice took hold of the classroom atmosphere, the two lowered their heads, voices tumbling into whispers. “Yeah?” she asked. “What is it?”

Mature Bin held fast to his smile. “Hello.”

— ✔✘✔✘ —

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

[addictofsupernatural]

Spidey Senses (pt. 6)

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Having to keep up a lie is hard for Peter when you're trying to help him.

Word Count: 3366

Chapter 1 • Chapter 5

"What do you mean finally?! This is bad. Really, really bad Ned. I shouldn't be thinking about her like that!"

"Dude, it's your feelings. You're gonna feel whatever way you do. You can't control that stuff."

"But this could ruin our friendship. I don't want that." Peter whined over the phone as he put his hand over his eyes, laying on his bed.

"Or~ maybe this could all work and you could score a girlfriend." Ned suggested, amusement laced in his voice. "I mean, I didn't want to be the first one to say this, but..."

"What?"

"Let's just put it this way. She's always had a cute heart. Over time, her heart got cuter and went straight to making her face kinda hot."

"Ned." Peter frustratedly said.

Ned gave him a goofy laugh. "You sound like your getting jealous or something."

Peter quickly sat up. "Do you think that'll happen?"

"Probably." He said nonchalantly. "All seriousness Peter, you should go for it. I always thought you two would be good together. There's just something there, trust me. And hey, you two could be the amazing spider couple. That'd be awesome."

"Spider couple." He smiled and laid back down. "You think people would make that, like, a ship name for us?"

"Dude, you could have a super girlfriend. How awesome does that sound?!"

Peter let out a chuckle. "That does sound pretty cool. Okay, thanks for the therapy session. Night Ned."

"No problem. Night." And with that Peter stayed up to think about you some more.

The next week at school went horribly. All Peter wanted to do was spend more time with you, but you kept pushing him towards Liz at gym class and in Mathletes. He felt so jealous whenever he saw you goofing off with Ned. You were a very touchy person, and every warm hug to Ned felt like Peter's arms were getting colder.

When Liz was finally busy, he went over to you and sat a little closer to you than usual. "Hey Peter." You greeted brightly. "Any progress?"

"On what?" He asked dumbly.

"Liz." You said quietly.

"Oh!" He voice cracked and cleared his throat. "Oh. Um, not really. I think I'm done for the day."

"Aw, Peter!" You rubbed his arm. "You shouldn't give up on stuff that's important to you."

He sighed, glancing at Ned's confused face. "Can't I just spend the rest of the day with you?"

You smiled and nodded, patting his cheek gently. Peter's phone buzzed and it was a text message from Ned.

Not Guy in the Chair: Why didn't you tell her how you feel?

He glanced at you working on your notes.

SM: I don't want things to be weird.

Not Guy in the Chair: The truth will set you free 🕊️🕊️

SM: Shhhh

You then took out left over brownies for Peter. He gladly took one as Flash came over, taking one out of the container as well. "Hey babe."

"Don't touch my stuff and never call me that." You closed your container and put it in your backpack. "What do you want Flash?"

"Just making sure you got a hot outfit for the party. Finally gonna show some skin?"

"I do have a costume. Peter was with me when I got it too. We had a lot of fun." Peter looked at you and smiled.

Flash then rolled his eyes. "Really? How could anyone ever have fun with Penis Parker?"

"Well we do." You tugged each boy at your side into a side hug. "Do you have a special trio that would do anything for you?"

He nervously scoffed. "I have more than two friends. Does every friend seem special to you when you're not popular?"

"If you called one of your friends in the middle of the night and told them to come over cause you're sad, would any of them do it?" He was silent as he looked down. "That's a special friend. Now goodbye."

"Y'know—"

"Good. Bye." You pressed, frowning.

"I—"

"Dude," MJ interrupted. "Know when you've been beat. Walk away."

He then did so, stomping away. You smiled and looked over to MJ. "Why do we not talk to each other?"

"Cause you're a loser." She said, matter-of-factly.

Though Ned and Peter have her a confused frown, your smile only widened. "What are you?"

"Friendless."

"Not anymore!" You exclaimed. The teacher then announced that the club session just ended. "We'll see you at lunch tomorrow then."

She stared at you for a moment. "...Okay, I guess. Bye." You could tell that she held back a smile as you excitedly waved at her before packing up.

You and Peter were walking home, when he asked about MJ. "I don't know." You said, shrugging. "I just feel like she's cool. My spidey senses can feel it."

"You say that about everything." He laughed.

"Because I'm always right about everything. It's a given." He chuckled again. "C'mon, don't you ever have intensified feelings about some things or people?"

He awkwardly smiled and nodded, looking away from you. "More than I should." He mumbled.

"Hm?"

"I said I should hope so."

"Well then, see? I'm right again." You grinned.

"Did your spidey senses feel that too?"

"Yup." You both chuckled.

Over the next few days MJ began to directly hang out with you and the boys, and she said that she would be going to the party as well. "I don't believe in stereotyping geeks out of parties, which is why I'm supporting you guys tomorrow." She explained with an almost unnoticeable smile.

"So generous." You teased back, Ned and Peter smiling as well. "What'll you be going as?"

"Oh, I'll be going as part of the impartial generation of today." She gave a sly smile.

"Nice, nice." You nodded contently before Flash came up to your table again. "Holy crap man, are you sure you even have friends? Why do you keep bugging me?"

"Just wanted to see what the new member of the Penis Parker group was like." He then nodded to Mj, to which she didn't respond. He then rudely waved his hand over her face. "Hello?"

She backed her face up as you smacked his hand away. "Leave her alone."

"What? This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to her. It's not like you guys have interesting lives." You and Peter looked at each other. "I'm guessing that's a no?"

"Well Peter and y/n know Spiderman and Spidergirl!" Ned blurted out.

Flash then did a breathy, wheezing laugh. "Are you kidding me? How would they know them?"

"The Stark Internship!"

"Ned, stop talking." You mumbled. Ned nodded and put his head down. "We met them a few times, so we don't really know them or anything, and even if we did were aren't supposed to talk about it."

"Well Peter," he ignored you. "If you're actually cool then why don't you invite them the the party?"

"Cause we wouldn't want to waste their time by having them go to some fanboy's party." You argued, knowing Peter would choke up if he answered.

Flash shrugged it off. "That's what I thought." He said as he left.

The next day you were talking to Linda while in your costume with your mini backpack slung over your shoulder. She was telling you about the job interview she's getting and how she's saving up the money from Tony's watch to rent an apartment in the building you live it. "I'm so happy right now Linda! You could totally be one of those super nosey neighbors, and I would pretend to be okay with it!"

"That would be a dream come true." She said as you both turned your heads to see Peter coming, also dressed up. "Just a few years older, and I would totally go for that."

You sighed. "You're such a creeper Linda."

"And you should loosen up and be more of a creeper." You gave her a look, and she only shrugged. "Just saying. Press on and go for it."

"Hey guys." Peter greeted with a smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yup!" You hopped off the steps you were sitting on. "Let's go."

"Okay. Bye Linda." Peter politely waved.

"Don't acknowledge her Peter, it makes her weirder."

"Don't be jealous that I'm more fun." She called out, smiling.

Peter chuckled and tried to put his hands in his pockets, only for his hands to slip from there being none. He didn't know what to do with his free hand that wasn't carrying the shield. He probably looked so awkward in front of you right now. This was so nerve wracking.

"Peter calm down." You suddenly said, causing him to jump a little. "It's my first party too, but we got each other. And we know Ned's gonna be there to be a dork, and Mj will be there to remind us how stupid we look. It'll be great."

He nervously laughed, scratching his head. "Yeah, I guess." He then became nervous just thinking about what would happen if you discovered this crush, especially at the party with Flash. "Y/n, what do you see in men?"

The question was unexpected, and your face felt like it was in flames. "What would you ask that?"

"Just wondering. I don't think I've ever seen you flirt with someone." He mentally sighed at the save.

"Mm, I guess he has to be nice, for starters. I'd want him to make me laugh, and care about me. I don't know, that's really it."

"Really? Only that?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing with looks, or..."

"Peter!" You lightly smacked his arm and giggled. "You know I don't care about that stuff."

"You care about your own looks." He said quietly.

"That's different though." You grinned and tugged on his wrist. "We're here. C'mon."

Ned was waiting on the steps, looking up at you two in major relief. "Guys, tell me you brought the suits."

You both nodded. "Our suits aren't party tricks." You said. "This feels way too wrong."

"Yeah, I'm with y/n. Those suits are worth way too much to use for something like this." Peter added.

"Only for a few minutes. This is our chance for Flash to stop messing with us." Ned whined.

You huffed. "Okay, but only if Flash is being extra annoying."

The three of you walked inside and saw Flash trying to be a DJ, playing some basic techno music. He saw the three of you, and brought out his mic. "Hey Penis Parker, where's your superhero friends? That's not Spiderman, that's Ned in a onesie."

People began laughing, and you pursed your lips. "I'll be right back."

You left and went behind a building, opening your backpack and quickly changing into your hero outfit. You took a deep breath, and was about to swing in when you got a call from Peter.

"Dude, tell me she's doing it." You could hear Ned say.

"I don't know, I'm gonna ask her. Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You laughed out.

"Did you really put it on?"

"Yeah. Are you gonna join me or do you just want me to do it?"

"This doesn't feel right."

"Peter doesn't know what he's saying." Ned called out in a child-like tone.

"Ned's being mean to me." Peter responded in the same tone.

You giggled. "Look guys, I don't feel great about it, but Flash needs to be knocked down a peg. It hurts to see him treat you guys like crap. This is just gonna be a one time thing, right?"

"Right." Peter confirmed.

Ned remained silent, but Peter nudged him. He huffed. "Right."

"Okay, I'll be down in a bit." You then ended the call.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," Ned said. "But why does y/n still think you like Liz? I thought you were gonna tell her yesterday."

"I didn't know how to tell her the truth! I panicked!"

"You're hopeless." Mj said as she walked up to the two boys. "What happened to y/n?"

"She went to go get Spidergirl." Ned nodded for way to long as he said this.

"Wait," She looked genuinely surprised. "So you guys, like, actually know the Spider heros?"

"What was that?" Flash asked over his mic. "Is Penis Parker actually going to bring Spiderman and Spidergirl here?"

"Actually, um, Spiderman couldn't make it." Peter said before clearing his throat awkwardly. "But Spidergirl said she'd make an appearance."

Flash obnoxiously laughes into the mic. "Can anybody believe this guy?"

You then swung in. "I do." You raised your hand playfully as everyone began cheering. "You guys were expecting me, right?"

Everyone cheered again. "Oh my God." Flash said in a high pitched manner.

You grabbed Ned by the shoulders. "It's Ned, right?" You asked over the music, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I've heard good things about you."

"All true." He showed his goofy smile.

You patted his cheek. "I bet!" You turned and walked over to Peter, giving him a big hug. He returned it, finding the hug oddly comforting considering everyone was staring. "Peter! It's been a bit, huh?"

He awkwardly chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks for coming."

"Of course! When I heard from SM that the Peter Parker finally had time for a party, I knew I had to come and see it for myself! Maybe my partner could join in next time, yeah?"

"We... Um..." He kept doing his little pant–laugh thing that he does when he doesn't know what to say. "Yeah."

You moved over to look at Mj. "You go by Mj, right?" She nodded. "Y/n tells me you're super opinionated and awesome."

She smiled and shrugged, tucking back some hair. "I just kinda say whatever comes to mind. I don't really think before I talk sometimes."

You tapped her chin. "I love it. Never change." You then clapped your hands. "Now! Where's Flash Thompson?"

Everyone pointed to Flash, who quickly turned down the music. You swung to him quickly and caused him to back up into a small table, awkwardly steadying it. "H... Hi."

"Hi Flash. I wanted to let you know that me and Spiderman keep tabs on our friends, to make sure they're okay. We're pretty protective, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah. I totally get that." He kept awkwardly nodding.

You nodded and patted his cheek. "I knew you would, so I need you to keep an eye on Peter and Ned while me and SM can't. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, yes I can. I could do anything for you."

"Thank you Flash." You patted his arm, to which he looked at his arm in amazement. "Amazing. Okay, I gotta go. But remember, I keep tabs on your school, so I'll be watching!"

You then walked around for a bit taking pictures and talked to some people. You suddenly felt goosebumps all over and excused yourself, flying out and looking around. You saw a small blue explosion in the distance and quickly texted Peter.

He came as soon as he could and you explained the situation. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Mj noticed Peter leave quickly after you did. She also noticed that you weren't in sight while Spidergirl was here.

"Okay, okay. I, I need to change!" He then quickly took off his shirt and started unbuckling his pants, looking up to you dumbly staring at him. "Uh..."

"Sorry!" You quickly turned around and look off your mini backpack, plopping it down next to yourself. It had Peter's suit folded inside. "That was partially not my fault. You gotta warn somebody before you start stripping next time."

"Next time?" He asked teasingly. "You say it like you want it to happen again."

Truth be told, neither of you knew where this new found confidence of Peter came from to tease you like that. It was almost like he was flirting. You liked it though; it was as if he was becoming more confident and mature with himself.

Your face was hot as you grinned at the ground. "Well, you gotta pay for whatever expensive college you're gonna get into somehow. And I'll come visit at the strip club to support my best friend."

He hugged you with one arm from behind. "So supportive. Maybe the reason I'm a stripper is to support the both of us."

You chuckled and rubbed his arm. "My hero."

He turned you around and handed you your backpack. "This is a cool backpack, by the way. I like the mini things of Thor."

"Thank you." You said, awkwardly taking the backpack. "Now let's go."

Neither of you could get some webbing to hold onto any tree in the area, so instead you both ran across a whole field, looking kind of comical. By the time you two got there this one man was showing another some high tech weapons. You were getting closer to listen in, and it sounded like the guy wasn't interested in what the others were trying to sell.

"Why you trying to upsell me man?"

The other two guys didn't like this, and were slowly getting angrier. You tried to get closer, but Peter's phone went off from Ned calling him. You both hid as Peter fumbled to end the call, and the two merchants assumed the buyer was setting them up because of the noice. In an instant there were two guns pointed at the buyer.

"Woah, woah!" You yelled as you and Peter came out, hands up. "C'mon guys, I promise he wasn't turning his back on you two. And I'm a good guy; good guys don't lie."

"Really, if you guys are gonna shoot at anybody, shoot at me." Peter said with seriousness. "I'm the real threat."

The two guys looked at each other and pointed their guns at the both of you. "Okay."

You both dodged their shots and flung their guns away with your webs. You tried to shoot at the wheels of the car but the man with an electric glove shot at you, causing you to fling back. You noticed that the buyer hesitated to go and help you, but decided not to and instead hopped in his car and drove away.

When you got up they were getting in the car so you and Peter shot a web to the door. The door broke off, but Peter shot another web to the car to have you two ride the door.

"Hey, I got a really stupid idea!" You yelled out as the guy in the back of the van was reaching for a gun.

"Go for it!" The van hit a sharp turn, and you took this as chance to let go of the door and leap to a tree, using your strength to push and dive head first into the van.

"Woah, I did it!" The shocker guy tried to punch you with his electric glove, but you dodged it. "Someone's bitter!"

You began to go on a defensive position and dodge his contact hits and fires in the narrow van, until Peter shot a web at him that pinned one of his hands to the side of the van. He used the other hand to shoot at Peter, blasting him into a backyard.

"I'm okay!" You heard him yell out from a distance.

You slammed the shocker guy to the ground and pinned his hands and feet to the ground. You stood and shot web to cover his mouth as well. "That was a pretty rude thing to do, but I guess two v one isn't fair. Then again, you're are a bad guy."

You remembered that you had your backpack on this whole time, and took it off to hug it.

"Mh. Once again, Thor backpack comes in clutch. Odinson, you can me do no wrong." You opened your backpack and put some small weapons in it, zipping it up and putting it back on. You looked outside before turning around to talk to the man pinned on the ground. "I wonder where Spiderman went. It's all good though, I'll stop the car—"

You were cut off by something grabbing you and yanking you back. You yelped as you were whipped into this huge lake. The water hit you painfully and you began to see spots, seeing a flash of a man with mechanical wings. You almost didn't feel something bring you up.

"Thanks ma..." You looked up and winced. What was carrying you was the Iron Man suit. "Uh oh."

"I have some words for you two."

---

Tag List:

@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps @babebenhardy @sofisofi1602 @smilexcaptainx @herondalism @coni-martina @youvebeenlizzed @melanisticroyalty

[sagiow]

Mercy Street - Hallmark Edition

For Mercy Street Hallmark Movie day, here are the synopses of the Luke MacFarlane Christmas movies recast in Mansion House based solely on their names (no cheating, the only one I’ve watched is The Mistletoe Promise). And because it’s 2020 and the Hallmark Channel still won’t, I’ve made them all LGBTQ.

Chateau Christmas (lol ok I Iike that one)

Through a mysterious letter, still-mourning-although-it’s-been-two-years widow Mary Phinney finds out that she inherited a small, struggling vineyard and ramshackle chateau from Gustav’s unknown great-aunt in Alsace, and decides to put her veterinary practice on old for a month to evaluate her new assets. There she meets - and butts heads with -  the winery’s exacting yet artistic master vintner, Lisette Beaufort, whose guarded, veneered exterior hides also a grieving heart. Will their common care for the vineyard’s survival, appreciation for art and Gewurtzstraminer, and the magical Christmas season in picturesque Strasbourg make allies - et peut-être plus - out of these two women?

Secret scoop: Expect plenty of outdated, Emily In Paris-style French stereotypes and swooping views of Alsace that were actually shot in British Columbia.

Sense, Sensibility & Snowmen (FFS)

Following their mother’s second, ruin-saving marriage to her distant cousin, Sir Alfred Summers,  Emma and Alice Greenwood move from their native Virginia to his estate in Connecticut. There, Alice is swept on a whirlwind romance with the dashing Captain Willoughby Tallboots, under the melancholy eyes of retired officer Colonel Bullen, while Emma silently pines for her best friend and secret love, Isabella Friars. More distant cousins appear with convoluted relationships, passive-aggressive exchanges over long country walks and they probably go for a fortnight to Bath Newport before it all ends happily in a double wedding.

Bonus scene: Colin Firth emerges from the frozen lake in a wet shirt (Wrong movie? Don’t care.)

Maggie’s McBurney’s Christmas Miracle (ugh so cheesy)

Clay McBurney had landed the hottest deal of the season: planning the upstate New York wedding of Virginia heiress Emma Green to local war hero Henry Hopkins. He has booked the best location : Mansion House Lodge. It has everything: rustic yet elegant charm, breathtaking views, killer cellar, and a top celebrity chef, Pink Erton (yes, they’re that Pink Erton). However, he soon learns that Pink and him don’t exactly see eye to eye on how the Lodge should run the year’s biggest event. With a major snowstorm threatening to bring utter chaos to his carefully laid out perfect plans, and the bride’s family, total Armageddon, perhaps Matt Brannan, the gardener who used to be their army general (and could also be Santa) can help bring the magic back and save the day.... A musical ensues. 

Secret scoop: Some themes sound maybe kinda similar to Christmas Chateau? Of course they do: it’s a Hallmark Christmas movie!

The Mistletoe Promise (this one I’ve actually watched (thanks @fericita-s!) so real plot adapted)

Henry Hopkins wants to make partner at his law firm, but the company has a policy of promoting only “good family men with proper conservative values”, and he is happily single - and very, very gay. Jed Foster is running his travel agency with his ex-wife, Eliza, who now has the most irritating and single-brain celled new boyfriend, Byron. As this wasn’t bad enough, the Christmas party season is upon then, and showing up solo is not option. After meeting and commiserating in a mall food court, the two men enter an agreement to be each other’s "+1″ for the holidays to stick it to their workplaces. Could this “strictly business” arrangement (and weekend getaways to Christmassy NYC with horse-drawn carriage rides and a hotel suite with only one bed) lead to more?

Bonus scene: Henry teaches Jed how to ice-skate (shot on a shitty greenscreen + treadmill with no appreciation whatsoever of how one actually moves on skates)

Christmas Land (well that’s just terribly vague)

Real Estate developer Anne Hastings hates Christmas, which is why she always gets TF out of Chicago to spend it on a white sandy beach with many-a sweet drink and many-er sexy strangers. However, this year, her firm has the opportunity of purchasing land next to the little town of Nowell, close to the Canadian border in Vermont, to turn it into a giant, duty-free, fireworks-and-booze-and-pot selling outlet mall, and she is shipped out to strike the deal. There, she meets Charlotte Jenkins, the Georgia girl who always dreamt of a white Christmas, and who came all the way North after her husband died to open a florist/bookstore/coffeeshop, raise her two children, and hey, write a novel, why TF not, in the town she lovingly calls Christmas Land. Will Charlotte’s bright eyed goodness, delicious hot chocolate and adorable -and hammy, over-acting- kids make Anne discover the true meaning of Christmas... and perhaps even true love?

Bonus scene: There is a snowball fight that ends with them slipping and falling one on top of the other, with their laughter fading in an oh... oh moment, that’s interrupted by a kid before it gets anywhere interesting.

A Shoe Addict’s Christmas (uuuuugh whyyyyy)

Byron Hale loves shoes. He looooves them. He can never have enough, but his small bakery barely makes enough to cover rent and supplies. All this changes when he decides to take part in the Great Gingerbread Bake-Off, which whisks him off in magical Genosovia, a non-descript European country where people speak in Britishish accents. There, he meets Samuel Diggs, another competitor in the contest, whose lebkuchen with royal *wink wink* icing is the stuff of legends. Despite himself and the romance of Old Québec City Europe, Byron cannot help but slowly fall for the sweet, kind, really really ridiculously good-looking adversary. But perhaps there is something more regal *nudge nudge* to good ol’ Sam?

Bonus scene: Flour fight while baking something festive, which ends with Samuel pinning Byron to the fridge, their laughter fading in an oh... oh moment -ah crap just used that one already... ok, so let’s go with grandiose decorations in the palac---- huh town hall.

Secret scoop: Sam is a Prince. Oh that’s not a scoop? Nor secret? Damnit.

Of course, all first kisses occurs in the last scene of the movie under the mistletoe, softly falling (fake) snow and a jazzy rendition of a classic Christmas tune.

[duhragonball]

Yamcha if you're still doing the character meme?

I am still doing these, and I’m enjoying it, so keep ‘em coming.   Before I start, let me promote the original post, in case anyone else wants to start their own thing.  I’d link to the OP, but I guess they deleted this from their blog, probably because their notifications went nuts.

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: Let’s be honest, Yamcha doesn’t get a lot of big “hero moments” in Dragon Ball.   Or Dragon Ball Z, or Dragon Ball GT, or Dragon Ball Su-- Look, you get the idea.   In most arcs, he’s the first one to get benched.   In tournaments, he always loses in the first round.   He spent the King Piccolo Saga recovering from a broken leg.    Against the Saiyans, he was the first one to die.  Against the Androids, he was nearly killed and had to sit out the rest of that arc.   In the Buu Sagas he was retired.    In a number of major storylines, he just isn’t there, because no one called him.

But he remains a fixture in the franchise anyway, because he’s always showing up for more.  Let’s take the Buu Saga as an example.   It didn’t surprise me to find out he had retired, mainly from a dramatic standpoint.    There’s a lot of new characters in the Buu arc, and it made sense for some of the older characters to step aside and make room for them.   But he’s still there, because he wants to see Goku one last time, and he wants to hang out with his friends and watch some of them kick the crap out of each other.   It was kind of sad to see him stay behind while the others rushed off to follow the Supreme Kai, but he’s retired, after all.    Also, they didn’t stop to fill him in on what was happening.    I suspect he might have tagged along if they asked.  

As it was, he still ended up getting involved, and he was with the Dragon Team right up until Super Buu cornered them on the Lookout.     And the next time we see him, he’s on the Grand Kai Planet with Krillin, and King Kai seriously considers sending them in to take on Buu in case Goku and Vegeta can’t get the job done.   

And that’s a big deal, because it even comes up in the anime.   King Kai tells them that he arranged for them to keep their bodies as a precaution, but he’s totally in favor of letting them remain on the Grand Kai Planet with all of the other honored warriors, like Goku.  So you start with this desert bandit, a highwayman without a highway, probably because he’s afraid of all the women that use the interstate.   But he gradually overcomes his fears and insecurities, never completely, but just enough to put one foot in front of the other and become a better man.    And finally he ends up receiving a place among the great heroes of old.  

So why doesn’t that get more attention?   You could make a whole epic story out of that, except it’s not Yamcha’s story.  He’s a supporting character.   So the franchise itself tends to play it down.    Even Yamcha doesn’t really take it all that seriously.   I don’t know if that’s modesty or cluelessness or Big Himbo Energy or what, but that’s why it’s so easy for everyone to write him off as a loser or a failure.   They’re overlooking the bigger picture.

The best way to illustrate this is with this TFS short that serves as an epilogue to their DBZ Abridged series.   Yamcha goes back to playing baseball for the Taitans, only to get fired, because he’s so talented that he’s literally broken the game, and no one buys tickets anymore.    But he gets a gigantic severance package, and he still goes down in history as the greatest ballplayer in history.  What always gets to me is that they have to explain to him that this is actually a win.  As his coach puts it, “you do nothing but win.”   

Like Yamcha himself, we often see him from the lens of these insane Dragon Ball adventures, where you have to have glowy hair and a hot cyborg wife to be considered a success.   But to the rest of the world, he’s a jacked up millionaire with fantastic hair, and he’s a real sweetheart.   Who couldn’t like this dude?

Why I don’t: As you may have noticed, I tend to only use this section to talk about why I disliked the characters initially.   I have to think back to 1999 when I was still having trouble keeping track of who’s who.   In particular, I found Yamcha’s presence frustrating because he looked and dressed almost exactly like Goku, but not quite, which seemed bizarre.    Later, I picked up on the context, and it didn’t bother me as much.  

Yamcha does have a bit of an overconfident streak in some situations, which might look like unfounded arrogance, but I think it’s really just his carefree nature and enthusiastic can-do spirit.   He was confident about their chances against the Saiyans, but I don’t think that was him being cocky.   He just knew they had all trained hard and he was stronger than he’d ever been.    But that’s easy for people to jump on as a reason to hate the guy.  

Future Trunks claimed that he fooled around while he was involved with Bulma, but come on.    Does anyone really buy that?    Besides, at best, that would only apply to Future Yamcha, the one who died in the other timeline.   Once Trunks changed the past, all bets were off.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I’m gonna get a little nuts here and go with TFS’s playthrough of Legacy of Goku I, where they decided to level up Yamcha and have him solo Broly.

Basically, in an RPG game like this, Wolf Fang Fist can do monster damage, so they maxed out Yamcha’s stats to wreck the game’s hidden superboss.  You have to skip to 1:40:00 or so to see the successful attempt, but I loved this video.   This is where I learned to respect the utterance of “Roga... fufuken!”  Broly probably would have respected it, too, except he died from all those hits he took.

Favorite season/movie: You know, that fight with Tien was a classic.   Not sure it’s in my top ten, but it’s on a lot of people’s lists, and I absolutely get that.

Dumb as it may sound, I enjoyed seeing Yamcha in the hospital, wrestling with his own despair as he recuperated from his broken leg.   And when he shows up at the end to congratulate Tien and accepts Tien’s apology, well, like I said, Yamcha has this great character arc, but it’s easy to overlook with everything else that goes on.

Favorite line: I forget which game it was in, maybe Budokai 3, but one of his pre-fight taunts is “Watch this, Puar!  I’m gonna win!”, which always makes me think of Puar sitting just off-camera, watching the action from a little lawn chair.  

Favorite outfit:

I may take some heat for this, but I like the Androids/Cell Saga version of Yamcha, with the short, spiky hair.  This dude’s long, luxurious rockstar ‘do is a national treasure, sure, but I dig this look more.  

Also, I consider Yamcha to be the only guy from the Turtle School who pulls off the slippers and no-blue-undershirt look.   It looks off when I see it on Krillin and Goku, but with Yamcha it just feels right. 

OTP: This guy gets shipped with a lot of people, probably because he’s one of the major characters without an established love interest.   Folks still carry a torch for Bulma, some people ship him with Tien, Frieza hit on him in FighterZ, and I’m still trying to make sense of that.   He flirts with your character in the Xenoverse games.    Years ago, I considered doing something with that, but I’ve fleshed out my OC enough to where I don’t think that fits. 

At the end of the day, I can only see Yamcha getting together with @cozymochi ‘s OC, Marzi.  

Brotp: Tien, Krillin, Goku.  Hell, I always figured Yamcha was one of the few people Vegeta could get along with to some extent.  

I mean, Tien couldn’t stand to be one the same planet as Vegeta, but Yamcha keeps coming over to have hot dogs at Bulma’s place, long after the Namekians have left.  

Head Canon: He’s Luffa’s type, don’t get me wrong.    I just don’t see any room in my fic for a whirlwind courtship.    The stars just don’t align.

Unpopular opinion: I’m not really behind this notion that they should give the humans more stuff to do in future series.   When it comes to supporting characters, sometimes they get phased out, and there’s no point in phasing them back in unless there’s a compelling story idea for them.   

I think it’s dumb how they teased Yamcha in the Tournament of Power prelude, only to leave him out of the tournament itself.    On the other hand, they put Tien on the team and barely used him, which tells me that even if they’d put Yamcha on the team, it wouldn’t have amounted to anything.   

I get it, people love these characters and want to see them used more, but I’d rather have one strong Yamcha story than a hundred non-starters.  And at this point, I think the only thing anyone can do is rely on fan-created content.    Be the change you want to see in the world.

A wish: Crap, it’s after ten pm.    I dunno, I wish Marzi was canon.  

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I feel like the character’s already been through worse than I could come up with for him.   

5 words to best describe them: Cat loves food, yeah yeah yeah.   That’s six, but who cares?

My nickname for them: Yeah, I don’t have one.

[wolf-stark]

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

-

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.