#or he was a bitch baby/pos and got grounded

[motherarts]

so then i drew ross and robert cause i could

anyway how is your day going?

[havoc-bloom]

General Headcanons For (Most Of) The Dreams of An Insomniac Characters!!

(Excluding Lankmann cause I’ve already posted about him more than enough)

HC’s under the cut!!

Clyde:

- He’s so fucked up /pos

- Enjoys metal/rock, would listen to Mindless Self Indulgence

- If he tries hunting/chasing you I feel like you could distract him with candy

- Scary on the outside but an absolute sweetheart, especially with Winfrey (they’re boyfriends /hj)

- Prankster man, would place a banana peel on the ground and wait for you to comically slip and fall over it

- Eeeevil evil mischievous fellow

- About as straight as a curly fry

- Me, seeing Winfrey and Clyde: “oh my god, they were roommates :0”

- He has an evil laugh that he practiced in the mirror. Please tell him it’s cool and evil and maniacal.

Winfrey:

- Winfrey, my sweet baby boy. You poor poor thing.

- I CAN FIX HIM I SWEAR

- Winfixed AU gives me life (thanks Tigera)

- Plays violin extremely well, but can also play the piano

- If you ask him to play Megalovania he will bite you.

- Yes, he bites.

- His “theme song” may be Your Consenting Mind from Spooky’s Jumpscare Mansion according to Pastra, but damnit his anthem will always be Because Dreaming Costs Money, My Dear by Mitski in my heart and soul.

- Unironically used to not really acknowledge him because the other characters felt like they overshadowed him BUT THEN I MET @/tigerarainbowra-blog and my worldview has been CHANGED in the best way possible

- Me: (slaps the top of Winfrey’s head) “You won’t believe how much angst you can fit in here.”

- Really really heavy British accent, at least before he Went Feral™

- If the floor is being straight, then this man is crawling on the ceiling.

Klaus:

- What a douchebag /lh

- Reeks of birthday cake (he uses it to lure in kids to kill; I headcanon that Veldigun can change the way they smell and either completely nullify it or amplify it to make whoever they’re hunting more afraid or unaware of them) but also smells like blood and death.

- Absolutely vile, both in terms of personality and physical appearance

- Buried childhood trauma (he dares not talk abt it)

- Literally just needed some emotional help as a kid and if he got it he would’ve turned out fine, but somehow he got more fucked up with no thanks to the Lankmann Foundation.

- I can make anyone have sympathy for any character. Making people feel bad for Klaus is proof of that.

- Listens to Insane Clown Posse and Melanie Martinez

- He’s angry. He’s so, so angry, all the time. I wonder what put that anger in him.

Jack:

- GET HIM THERAPY JESUS FUCK

- I can fix him I promise

- We need to get him OUT of his toxic-ass relationship with Klaus, like right now. Let him be happy. Please.

- Looks up to Klaus even though he knows he’ll never be respected in the same way.

- He likes breakcore lmfao, also he listens to 100 gecs unironically /pos

- I like to think he makes kandi bracelets and he made matching ones for him and Klaus. Even tho Klaus is a bitch he still never takes off the bracelet, and neither does Jack.

- Sends the most cursed of memes at the most unholy times of night. You’ll get a notification from him at 6:06 AM and it’s just a radically blurred image of a cockroach with the caption “daniel.”

- Really truly just wants to continue making toys for kids.

- Has ate drywall and will do so again

Simon:

- Pleasant little farm boy

- He constantly smells like he just walked out of a barn, probably because he did. You get used to it (eventually).

- LOVES ANIMALS SO SO MUCH

- Animals > people, would rather chill with Flock for the day than actually socialize.

- Suppresses his Southern accent a lot but when he gets angry or super excited you’ll hear the Country™ in his voice.

- Kind of jarring hearing a Texas accent come out of a Canadian tbh

- I want his hand in marriage /hj

- autistic  /hj

- So far back into the closet he may as well be that one sweater from the 3rd grade you could never find again. Fruitier than Froot Loops but completely oblivious about it.

The Flock:

- BIRD MOMENT

- Yes, it can fly.

- Yes, it can purr.

- No, you cannot pet it.

- Does that thing snakes do where they curl up into little coils and rest their head on the top. Yeah that.

- Also does that thing hognose snakes do where they’ll play dead if they feel threatened, but instead they do it to lure in prey into thinking they’re an easy meal.

- Like a parrot it can mimic voices.

- Jack taught it to say curse words and now anytime someone gets near it’s just “BITCH”

- Will eat Cheez-Its out of your hand

Mortimer Gray:

- Oh, this poor motherfucker. This unfortunate fellow. He has been through so much.

- Overworked, underpaid artist.

- Serious burnout, but dammit if he’s getting paid he’ll get it done.

- Artblock 24/7, creatively exhausted. Just leave him alone for a while, please.

- Had a sparkledog phase, is now definitely a furry /hj

- Self esteem issues? He’s got all of them. Every single one.

- Anxiety to the fucking max

- I relate a few songs to him, namely Bag Of Bones by Mitski (burnout central haha) and Against The Kitchen Floor by Will Wood (honestly I was listening to it while drawing him and now it’s just kinda,, a thing I relate him with now.)

- Help me I kin him

[starsandhughes]

is the way if you go on twitter and literally search “ joe pavelski injury” people are literally defending the pos. like how are you sit here and defend dumba 😧 calling it a “clean hit” like bro, joe probably has a fucking concussion. and he’s SMILING ABOUT INJURING HIM???? naw this man needs to be put in jail or something. only an insane person would laugh at someone getting injured (especially if they did it).

imma need people to stop defending him and stop calling stars fans babies and shit 😐. like bro his feet literally left the ice. it was an unnecessary hit

i’m listing this so all my thoughts are clear!

1. it was deemed clean, but it was late, and rules need to be adjusted because the shoulder was not the primary point of contact

2. clean or not, it was bullshit. we lost three forwards at once because max domi tackled dumba to the ground and got a misconduct so ty dellandrea had to sit for his minor

3. the laughing is disgusting

4. if that was legal, it’s embarrassing for the organization, and needs to be fixed

5. joe did end up walking out of the arena on his own and i’ve seen no injury update

6. wilds fans are bitching about suter cross checking kaprisov. boo hoo. he was fine. stfu.

[hamsterclaw]

Freak on a bike

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, this big dumb guy.

Inspired by RM in the mv for Sexy Nukim. Happy birthday week RM! I’m sorry.

Pairing: RM x F! reader

Genre: Smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Explicit sex, a fuckton of swearing, referenced drug use, objectification and dumbification of our fave sexy genius

Tagging: @sahmfanficbts @reliablemittenmain @vyduan

A bike bell rings and you look up to see where it’s coming from.

A bike stops a few feet away from you. On it, a guy in a black suit. 

You eye him curiously. He’s not bad looking, pretty sharp compared to the other guys you do business with. 

His thighs sandwich the bike frame, both feet on the ground. 

He reaches into the wire basket and holds out a package to you.

You look around.

What is this guy, some kind of fucking amateur?

‘You a narc?’ you ask, not moving from the railing you’re leaning against.

‘What?’ he asks, voice deeper than you were expecting.

‘Said what the fuck is that?’ you ask. 

You glance around again, half-thinking you’re being set up because there’s no fucking way the Kangs, drug overlords of Asan, sent this dumb goon to drop a package to you.

Have they been snorting their own low quality shit?

‘My first day,’ he says, like that’s gonna help redeem his big dumb self.

‘I’m supposed to be ok with you and your fucking training wheels?’ You shoot a glance at his chest, straining against his white shirt. ‘And your fucking training bra?’

He puts a hand over his chest. Big, like the rest of him.

‘I’m not wearing a bra,’ he says, hurt.

‘I’m not taking you shopping for one, baby girl,’’ you retort. You wave a hand. ‘Here, gimme that shit.’

You slip him the packet you’re meant to give him in return and put his package in your bag. 

‘Go back to wherever the fuck you came from,’ you say, dismissive. ‘Next time don’t ring that damn bell. You trying to call attention to us?’

You watch him cycle away. You’re not expecting to see him again, dumb goon will probably get himself killed before too long.

***

You’re on your phone, deciding what the fuck you want for dinner tonight when you hear the bike approach.

It stops inches from your foot.

You look up, and up a little more, because this guy is unfeasibly big. 

‘Still alive, huh,’ you say, somewhat impressed. 

It’s been two weeks since you saw him last, this big dumb guy. He’s wearing the same black suit he was wearing him last time, only this time he’s got rings on his fingers.

You give him points for style, he looks good for someone who’s a short step away from getting done by the po po. 

‘Hey,’ he says, voice warm, like you’re friends or some shit.

He leans forward a little, loses his balance a bit, and the bike slips forward. You get your foot out the way just in time.

Man’s a clumsy bitch. 

‘Got something for me big guy?’ you ask, raising an eyebrow, doing that face that makes these dumb gangster boys want to slap you and fuck you, in that order.

‘My name’s RM,’ he says. 

‘Good for you, baby,’ you say, dry as fuck. 

He passes you his package and takes your packet in return, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

‘Don’t worry your big dumb head about my name,’ you say. 

He grins at you. 

Jesus, this big dumb baby has dimples, cute. Like an actual baby. 

You want to poke your finger into one. 

‘Go home, big guy.’

He shoots you another look as he pedals away, big legs working the pedals, trousers straining against his thick thighs. 

This fucking guy. 

***

The next drop, he doesn’t ring his damn bell or try to run over your foot. 

‘Why you always dressed like you going to prom?’ you mutter, passing him your packet.

He dimples at you. ‘Wanna be my date?’

‘I don’t date chum,’ you say, scathing.

His dimples deepen. 

‘Why do you keep staring at my thighs if you don’t wanna ride them?’ he asks.

You stop and look up at him. 

‘Stop towering over me, you goon,’ you say. ‘How’m I supposed to talk to a fucking skyscraper?’

‘I’m just saying there’s room,’ he says, smirk on his face. ‘If you want a ride.’

You don’t say yes, but you can’t bring yourself to say no, either.

‘Hey,’ you call after him. ‘Take the underpass. Cops were all over the main road earlier, a stabbing or some shit.’

He nods, thighs flexing as he accelerates. He rings his bell once, and then he’s off, swallowed by the dark.

***

You’re picking out sweets at the store, trying to decide on a lollipop flavour (colour?) when he walks up to you. 

‘I like cherry,’ he says. 

‘Didn’t ask,’ you reply, snide. You look up. 

Damn, this guy. 

He’s got his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, white shirt unbuttoned so far you can almost see his tits.

‘Don’t put your tits in my face, poke my eye out,’ you complain.

He acts like it wasn’t him who didn’t do his own buttons up.

He pays for your sweets, buys himself pop. 

‘Let me taste,’ he says, pointing his chin at your lollipop. 

You look at him and lick around your lollipop. 

He watches, avid, like he’s imagining you doing the same to his cock.

You pass it to him. 

His tongue flicks out and now you’re the one letting your imagination run away with you.

His arms and chest stretch that shirt out so nice.

He tilts your chin up, rolls the lollipop over your lower lip, coating it in sweet.

You blink up at him, open mouthed.

He has to lean down a lot to kiss you but he acts like it’s no big deal.

You guess he’s always been a big man.

His hand cups the back of your head, tilting your face so he can kiss you deep, taste the cherry flavour even though it’s almost gone.

You swallow, and he hums.

Then he’s pulling away, slipping the lollipop through the ‘o’ of your lips.

You blink, and then he’s no longer touching you.

‘See you next week, pretty girl.’

***

You’re thinking of the big dumb goon who kisses like he’s got the dick game to back it up. 

Like he can take his time with you, slow.

RM, he’d said his name was. 

Speak of the devil. 

He rolls up next to you on his bike, and you exchange packages so seamlessly it’s like you practiced it.

‘Hey,’ you say, holding out your hand. ‘Got this for you.’

He’s looking at your tits when he should be looking at your hand clasped in front of them, the dumbass.

He tilts his head. ‘Yeah?’ 

You reach out and clip the Hello Kitty light you picked up to his wire basket.

‘There. You can see where you’re going now.’

He looks at it for a moment, then he smiles. You can see the dimple flash in his cheek.

‘Cute. Like your ass,’ he says. He reaches into his pocket. 

‘I got something for you too.’

You think he’s gonna say his dick, he seems like that kind of guy. 

He pulls out a lollipop, unwraps it with his teeth, hands it to you.

‘Suck it for me,’ he says.

You pop it in your mouth, a sweet cherry burst on your tongue.

‘You want me to suck it for you?’ you ask, teasing.

‘Yeah.’ 

He shifts a little on his bike. You stare at the bulge of his cock as you suck.

‘Damn.’

He leans close, lips about to touch yours, when you hear a ‘hey!’

You pull him close, pull his big body over yours. His arms wrap around you, his hips cage you against the railing.

You lick your tongue into his mouth because you can, and then you turn to the cop who’s shouted.

‘Yeah?’ you say, like you’re bored when actually, you’re fucking thrilled because your big goon feels like he’s got a big dick to back himself. 

He’s not even fully hard and he feels like he could break you.

What a fucking way to go, impaled on your big goon’s monster cock.

‘Let’s go, baby,’ he says.

He pats the back of his bike saddle, and you realise there’s space for you behind him.

You hop on, and he puts those thick thighs to good use, pumping the pedals like pistons, carrying the both of you away on his dumb bike.

***

He looks pretty fucking good under you as you wriggle your ass in his lap.

You’ve got your hand in his thick fucking hair, tugging his head back.

His hard on’s trapped in his pants, you’re riding the ridge of it and he’s so hard and thick your clit’s in heaven.

You’re right there with her, your big dumb sexy goon’s gonna make you cream just with the promise of how big he is.

You gasp, bite down on his lip, and he says, shit, fuck, you gonna cum, already?

You’re most of the way there. His mouth on your tit makes the pleasure explode. He sucks like he wants to milk you dry. 

Who knew this guy was so clever with his tongue?

You aren’t ashamed to say you need more.

‘Show me your dick,’ you pant.

He unzips, yanks all that shit down, and you could cry.

He’s so big he could split you in half, cock standing straight up, pre-cum sticky on his head.

You want to suck him like those cherry lollipops he buys you but you can’t fit all of him in.

You want him to stretch you everywhere.

You almost cream again when he slaps his dick on your cheek.

You’re pathetic, whiny, needy for his cock.

‘Come on,’ he grunts. ‘Let me stretch you, s’not gonna fit otherwise.’

He works two fingers into you, and you ride his hand like it’s fucking Magic Mountain.

He says, ‘fuck,’ and he grabs your ass, tight.

He works another finger into you, fingering you hard, fast.

He flattens you on his stupid ass futon and still you spread your legs because you’re gonna take this man or die trying.

Death by dick.

He’s spurting pre-cum now, groaning as he rolls the condom on.

How’d he find one big enough?

He dribbles spit onto your pussy, even though you’re plenty wet, you can hear yourself.

He pushes the head of his cock against your cunt.

He’s so big it stings. You’re trying to take him, breathing out slow.

He’s holding still, you can’t tell if there’s more stretch to come or not. 

‘You in, baby?’ you ask.

‘Just the tip,’ he says, he sounds strained.

You lift your hips, trying to take more of him.

‘Fuck.’

He pushes in a bit more, a bit more, a bit more and then he’s all the way in, so deep you can feel his dick on the back of your throat it feels like.

There’s so much pressure, your pussy feels so fucking full of his cock.

He nudges in a little more.

‘There you go, take it, baby,’ he groans. ‘Fucking take it.’

Your clit’s throbbing, your cunt putting out more juices to ease the slide. 

He flicks your nipples, tugging, cupping handfuls of your tits, acting like they were made for his entertainment.

He pulls back and thrusts again. 

‘S’good,’ you slur, but really you have no idea what the fuck you’re saying.

All you know is he’s fucking you just right and this big beautiful dimpled goon’s gonna make you squirt all over him.

He probably makes girls squirt all the time, packing what he’s packing.

You’re breathless as he pistons into you, you can hear yourself gasping. 

‘There,’ he grunts. ‘Make me wet, pretty girl.’

He grabs your tit, squeezing as he speeds up.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You scream as you gush all over him, you’re too fucking loud but your man doesn’t give a shit.

‘Yeah, fuck,’ he groans, deep. 

He pulls out, rips off the condom, stroking himself fast, hard.

Your mouth is open from your orgasm, he takes it as an invitation to cum, spurting his spunk all over your tongue, your bottom lip.

His aim is shit.

Cum drips over your tits, you don’t hate it, especially when he puts his big hand in it and spreads it over your tits.

He falls asleep on you.

You’d kinda known you’d like the weight of him.

***

You wake up to him wiping a damp cloth over your tits.

‘Made a mess,’ he says, tongue in his cheek, the big dumb baby.

‘Do it again,’ you say. 

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Now?’

He’s hard again, you can feel him like a third leg against your cunt.

‘Yeah, now.’

‘Wait,’ he says. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Make me breakfast in the morning and I’ll tell you.’

‘Yeah, ok,’ he promises. ‘You like eggs?’

©hamsterclaw 2022

[floralcalaveraa]

MEET THE MUSE

Rules: Answer in-character. Repost, don’t reblog.

► NAME ➭ He waves around proudly at the imaginary crowd his mind conjured, assuming a performance that one would put up when live on camera for an interview. Typical Guzma, thinking that he is all that, but he is not. “Hey y’all~” He says with a chipper, sing-song voice to continue convincing ... the dashboard? “Clean the wax outta yur ears; I’m only gonna say this once and I expect chu to say the WHOLE fucking thing when you call me. It’s Guzma Kehlani Kaliko- I’m joking.” The emotion in his performance stops abruptly at the end and he acts like normal again. But then again ... when was he ever normal? His voice is modest now. “Just keep it up to Guzma.”

► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➭ Guzma doesn’t hold back on widening his eyes upon registering the question and emphasizes the reality of his words when he curls a curl on his finger and bats his eyes, pretending a coy nature. “Yeah~ So if anyone out there single too and you want a good sex, come on down; my number is-” And then a convenient beep censors the sound of his voice because Guzma is doing too much.

► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➭ “Hmm, I’m aight right now. Is not like ... I’m going through anythin ...” He asks himself, looking at the sky for an answer. “Or am I?”

► ARE YOU ANGRY?  ➭ “Who isn’t? I know I am. Like, when’s a rich white guy gonna give me all his money ya know? Those fucking billionaires don’t know how to spend it, like, give me your money I’ll show you.”

► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➭ All that talk from earlier? That magic disappears. Guzma falls silent for a moment, but tries to salvage his enthusiasm from earlier. “Weeeeeeeeeeeell ... they never married to begin with? Yeah, very telling of their relationship, ya know?” ‘I don’t want them to ever marry. That is not love, I wouldn’t attend to it should it ever happen.’

NINE FACTS!

► ‘BIRTH’ PLACE ➭ “In. This. Stupid. Region. Called. ALOLA!” Each word came with a jumping stomp to the ground, like if this tantrum would make the region he chanted out loud crumble in his stomps.

► HAIR COLOR ➭ He grabs a strand of his hair, stretches it out, and watches it recoil back to its original curly condition, feeling a bit shy to divulge. “It’s ... it was my daddy’s hair color. I didn’t like that. So I colored it to look like my mami’s ...”

► EYE COLOR ➭ “A stupid fucking grey. Can you believe that? Not even the universe wants me to own anythin’ gold like damn give me a fucking break.”

► BIRTHDAY ➭ “...” He remains silent, connecting the dots about this scheming universe. “Y’know, this life really doesn’t want me to be first in anything; July 2nd.”

► MOOD ➭ “Now that I made that realization, I’m feelin’ pissed.” Guzma says with a relative ‘ :-) ’ expression and relaxed voice.

► GENDER ➭ “A guy, wish I was a God though or somethin ...” A hand grabs his chin lightly, but pensively. “Or a bug ...”

► SUMMER OR WINTER ➭ “OOOh summer’s are sexy! Ya feel me?”

► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➭ “I know I’m gonna sound like a cheesy old white lady but like, watching the sunset be kinda romantic tho-”

ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE!

► ARE YOU IN LOVE? ➭ “I either hate or love the people in my life. Never in between-”

► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➭ “Oh that’s fucking cute, yeah. It only exists to the right people though, not bitches like me.”

► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➭ Who ended his confidence? This question. It’s going to make him mention Her name. Her. And that scares him. Madam Prez. He sinks into his chair in shame. “I ... I’m the one that messes up.”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➭ “Yeah, I’m a real heartbreaker~” But his pride ends when he is left at the thought of the  loneliness that comes after break-ups.

► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➭ “... Yeah.” It is brief, in fear that entertaining it more would make him reveal the reasons why. After all, he wouldn’t want to bad-mouth Lusamine, no matter how vile she was to traumatize love for him.

► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK? ➭ “No because then they’ll smell my b.o ya know?”

► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➭ “Not that I know of ... I don’t know-”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➭ “I guess ... I know that there were times I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying ‘I love you’ to someone ...”

CHOICES!

► LOVE OR LUST ➭ “Lust hell yeah 😎” Love.

► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ➭ “I don’t give a fuck I just crave a refreshing drink right now; all this talking and answerin’ invasive, personal, intimate, scar-opening questions to a complete stranger has my throat all dried up like yo sex life.” Giving drawn out answers does nothing to help.

► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ➭ “I have my stinky siblings at Po Town. Sure they can be annoyin’ as fuck eatin’ my food, wasting water, stanking up the bathroom, wasting money, leaving the house messy, and all that, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

► WILD NIGHT OUT OR ROMANTIC NIGHT IN ➭ “Aw c’mon! Both are sexy! ... Aight, the one that will end with me gettin’ laid- ...” He sighs. “Aight, the one that would get me to know my companion better.”

► DAY OR NIGHT ➭ “I like to feel dramatic in the night. Like, ‘staring out from the window, musing about yo regrets and desires while seeing nobody but chu outside thinking about yo life’ kind of dramatic.”

HAVE YOU EVERS!

► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT ➭ “Apparently not cuz my parent’s ain’t find me yet haha!”

► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS ➭ “’Falling up the stairs’ sounds like some Loony Toons shit if I’m honest- Just imagine, you falling down the stairs, but then rewind it to make it look like you fell upward. Lol.”

► WANTED SOMETHING/SOMEONE SO BADLY IT HURT? ➭ A hand grabs at his chest, at his heart, as he yells at the top of his lungs, “GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING MONEY!!” Stability. Love. Healing. Those he had to let go in fear of having them punished by Lusamine. Honor. Respect. Freedom. And in truth, money, to support his family.

PREFERENCES!

► SMILE OR EYES ➭ “Oh I love both; a smile in someone that doesn’t do it often though. And eyes, those that are gold, blue, or green are pretty ...”

► SHORTER OR TALLER ➭ “Ain’t nobody gonna beat me and my 6′9″ ass. ‘Sides, I love my shorties anyways.”

► INTELLIGENCE OR ATTRACTION ➭ “Attraction. Not askin’ anyone to be smart in order for me to like chu-”

► HOOK-UP OR RELATIONSHIP ➭ “I only get casual hook-ups, night-stands ... C’mon, just look at me-”

FAMILY!

► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ➭ “Talkin’ bout the one in Po Town? Yup.” He nods proudly, not acknowledging his biological one.

► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE” ➭ “Baby, I got a fucked up life-”

► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME ➭ “Yeah. Best decision I ever made or else I wouldn’t find the real family I have now.”

► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ➭ “I kicked my own ass out before my daddy did.”

FRIENDS!

► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ➭ “Ooh that Plumeria, I can’t stand her! Her big butt be hogging up the whole sofa when we watchin’ t.v! Do you understand how irritatin’ that is?!” Seconds after this ‘wrath’, he bursts into laughter.

► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ➭ “No because they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, sexy friends.”

► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ➭ “Oh come on don’t make me pick n choose- Plumeria and Gemali (his Golisopod) has been my longest, how about that?”

► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ➭ “Oooo it’s just me, myself, and I baby- Ain’t nobody gonna understand my twisted mind better than I.” Can be deciphered by Plumeria or Lusamine.

tagged by: @obliviouskind​ wrow cryus, having a spot for love .. u know cyrus if u say josefina’s name 3 times she will appear easy as that

tagging: @maxskulline​ , @akuromatico​ , @kyohansha​ (me🤝erik: making you do this twice. BUT OKAY SRSLY U DONT HAVE TO ONLY IF U WANT-) , @unovasgambler​ , @theprxfessorpair​ (hemlock!) , @draconscious​ , @littlesilverplatinum​​  (me🤝myself, hand-gripping my other hand: making you Erik do this twice.)

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapter 6 (Winter’s Gem) (Bucky Barnes AU)

CHAPTER 5

Characters: Bucky Barnes x You (AU)

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been scouted by your boss in Felicity Night, you were just a mere young, cleaner in Felicity night and have been living in the basement of the club for all your life. He's the most wanted Gigolo in the city, and taking him away from eager, thirsty women seemed to be impossible especially if he chose to be a Gigolo as his way of living.

Warning: Profanities. Detailed making out. Inappropriate words. ONE THIRSTY PROTAGONIST IN THE HOUSE. You'll thank me later! *wink wink nudge nudge* 

Words: 3,500 words.

A/N: This chapter is long again! Hehehehe! REBLOG, LIKE AND COMMENT AS YOU READ! GO CRAZY!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures aren't mine. However, the whole series, one shots and edits are from moi.

Taglists: @damnbuckyishot @yn-the-reader @iwillmakeyoucraveme @willpoch12 @anxiousamandapanda​ 

As you began to walk away from your friend, and his patriotic best friend Steve Rogers. Bucky was patient enough to walk you towards the hall. His metal hand grasping tight on your waist with your heart fluttering every once in a while as you stared up at his breathtaking, side profile.

"You're undeniably beautifuuuuuul," You muttered prolonging the 'u' with a tiny pout included. Your eyes glimmering from the beauty who stood beside you. Bucky had no difficulty in carrying your drunk self up in his room, and you were entirely thanking your drunk self that you were intoxicated because this was the first time that you'll be sneaking in a peep to see Bucky's room.

That is if you're only having a peep.

Your compliment caught his attention, making him glance down at you who kept looking at him like how you stare down at your food, completely hypnotized. He smiled a precious one, staring at your lips. "Not as beautiful as you, Y/N."

"I plan to disappoint, Booki."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Hop, hop baby." Bucky muttered, his fingers clasping tighter when your foot got caught on one of the stairs leading the way towards his private room. You could only giggle, arm tightening around Bucky's neck in which he didn't mind at all. He was already basically carrying you way up, and you've wanted nothing more than to roll your eyes at him and tell that he should've carried you bridal style instead.

He just made himself suffer.

You blew air on his ear, making him go. "What the hell? Y/N.." Sounding irritated by how you blew on his ear, though the stunned irritation instantly faded from the moment he saw you pouting, eyes seeming to be a little watery from the intoxication, and cheeks slightly blushing. "Please don't hurt me," He stopped his steps, dragging you from his halt. Immediately staring down at you, his breathtaking, Steele blue eyes memorizing each and every part of your face that he didn't want to forget.

He repeatedly prayed to the heavens for that. Every damn day.

"I was just trying to be sweet," You quickly responded, scared that he would hate you too just like how your mother does and basically how other people sees you. A complete utter eyesore. Pain began seering your heart once the memories came crushing down on you like a brick. Your mother. The only woman and family in your life who happens to do nothing but inject pain and frustration in your fucked up life. She was one of a kind. A horrible kind.

Bucky licked his lips that seemed to turn dry when he realized how you took his response, interpretting it very differently. Totally a miscommunication especially when you're drunk and emotional. "Everything's new to me, everything's brand new. I know I'm starting to not make sense but," You paused, swallowing the saliva choking up your throat. "I know I'm one crazy, hopeless, lonely bitch. I'm giving you a heads up and one final chance for you to run the hills because you're in a relationship with an ugly janitress,"

Bucky looked at you incredulously, your words coming at him like a missile. He couldn't believe how low your self-esteem were. Totally opposite to what he sees from his perspective. You were basically the medicine to his sickness. No pun intended. He licked his lips, his mind completely elsewhere, finding the right words on how to respond to your rant.

His powdery steel blue eyes was set on you, adoring that certain glint in your eyes that made him want to keep you on his side at all costs, and dang was he whipped without him knowing. "Doll, you're not a bitch," Bucky muttered, lifting a hand to brush his thumb on your cheekbone like a person touching roses, "and I definitely won't run the hills because I'm dating a one of a kind janitress," He emphasized, his thumb tenderly caressing your face that made you feel electricity coursing through your face.

You instinctively took his hand that was affectionately holding your cheek, and your heart skipped a beat when he leaned in to press a kiss on your slightly pimpled forehead. One of your insecurities besides the fact that you had a high hairline. "Now, let's erase those horrid thoughts of yours, alright Sugar?" Your amazing boyfriend whispered in your ear before tugging you with him as you padded through the stairs, continuing your journey.

"Buckyyyyy," you slurred, drowsily blinking as you were watching your own foot step up the last stair. The world was spinning around you, just like a kaleidoscope world but with Bucky in it and it wasn't entirely horrible. Your gorgeously insane boyfriend hummed a reply, waiting for your response as his hands tightened around your waist, dragging you off and turning another hallway to get to your destination.

"Ppo-Ppo?" your words entertained him. He heard that as 'po-po' and thought you were planning on calling security for practically kidnapping you and planning to let you sleep in his headquarters. Simply to say, his room. "What?" he snickered, lowly cackling from your drunken slurs.  "You seriously want to call the police on me, Doll?"

You shook your head hard in disagreement.

Bucky's brows were left in a curious twist that made him pucker his lips in thought, suddenly stopping in your tracks. "Then what, Doll? What do you want?" he cooed, the ends of his tone sounding so tender, so sweet that it could make ants bite you for being so lucky in having him. Despite of his occupation inside the club you were working on, Felicity night.

He had your chin in between his index finger and thumb, gently lifting your head till your droopy eyes met his pale-blue ones that could make your toes curl in enthusiasm. Bucky hummed another soft reply, patiently waiting for your next words. "Kiss me?" you boldly puckered your lips out, tightly closing your eyes as you waited for him to just give you the peck you wanted.

Barnes was left gobsmacked. Staring at your pouted lips angled before him. The more longer he gets to be with you, the more so you surprise him with your characteristics and personality. He couldn't help himself but giggle and chuckle, never hesitating to lean down and give you a loud peck as he puckered his lips back, brushing his dewy, Crimson lips with yours. A satisfying smooch sound leaving his lips once he broke the peck.

"Is that good now?" the latter bluntly asked with a smirk.

You nodded repeatedly, satisfied with the reserved kiss he had just given, giggling in the process of your drunken slurs. "For now, my prince. This frog hasn't turned into a princess yet. Your kiss sucked," emphasis ended on your words.

James couldn't help but raise a brow at that, his smile never ceasing to drop whenever you were in his arms. "You'll get more kisses back in my room," he rasped, the pitch in his voice dropping an octave lower. Sounding utterly sexy for your panties to take.

The loud music faltered and faded as you took the last turn towards his room. Illuminated hallway. Red carpeted floor and dove white painted walls. The floor seemed too familiar for you, thus having a glimpse of a huge double door sat beside Bucky's room distracted your drunken stupor.

It was the boss' room.

Hence, why does your Bucky get to have the same floor as hers? Unlike the others who had their rooms on the second and yours which was unluckily down on the basement, living with the rats and mythical ghosts.

She scrambled onto her feet, giving the big boss' room a double take to verify the images appearing before her if it was true. The gentle, constant pull of her hips from the bewitching metal-armed man who kept on tugging your annoying self towards the the room he unfortunately owned and was given by the person whom must not be named in Winter's point of view.

Straight-grained, reddish brown timber of three tropical hardwood species came into view, your eyes were dreary, pie-eyed prior to your inebriation and also maybe because of a certain gorgeous, handsome motherfucker who managed to keep your mind in a daze despite of how he was doing such simple actions that could get you beguiled.

Bucky inserted the key he had been fumbling around his grey sweatpants; an accustomed measure in which he has been used to back when he was in Maximum Risk. Keeping his sanctuary safe from people whom you cannot trust is just around the corner, especially when he had that particular kind of job where people had the feeling of revenge in the palm of their hands.

He was still aware of people, ever had been since he was a child.

Basically, his mother selling him to different kinds of people when he was an obedient juvenile couldn't tape the trust back together like it was nothing.

To James Buchanan Barnes, trusting people is the least of his worries because he never does. Until you and Steve came along.

He never trusted the hearts of his customers, now that people around him were actually Judas in disguise. His whole life was pure complications and utter betrayals, and when you came along, he could finally see a light deep down the ground he was deeply submerged in. Even just a tiny light that could give him a hope that his life will become better despite of his contingencies.

"How did I ever swayed you, Booki?" you slurred like drunkard, slowly fluttering your eyes close and hearing his bedroom door open. The undeniably well built man swiftly caught you in his arms again, carrying you off your feet as you entered a room which seemed to be too dark for your liking.

Or maybe the lights weren't just still on?

"Mr. Barnes, is this your new way of showing me your red room?" a low, raspy chuckle emerged from the latter's chest which got you whistling like a weak wolf. You felt the cold vinyl tiles brush the bottom of your feet, lately realizing that he had you trapped inside his bathroom when you decided that having your eyes opened was better than keeping them closed.

In which you should have chose to kept them closed as you were faced with a clean, half body mirror.

Expletive profanities came running out of your mouth as you've seen your intoxicated self on the mirror. The homely warmth that your man could give was nowhere to be found, and it was then and there you heard the running water coming from the faucet signaled you that he was doing something you couldn't decipher.

"Is this your new way of inviting me over with a shower session?" you've curiously queried with a naughty smile. It immediately fell because the reflection you were seeing was starting to disappoint you and it was disheartening you big time. Bucky had a fresh damp towel in his flesh hand, he gave you a once over and saw how your smile smell. His initial reaction was to quickly rise from how he squatted inside his shower, swatting his dark shower curtains away before shuffling to his feet.

He didn't want you dancing in your own nightmares. You needed to step away from it, you needed to avoid it so you wouldn't have to become like him.

"Hey doll," The latter softly whispered against your ear, hinting a small accent that could make your toes curl beneath you and so you did. He appeared behind you with a small touch of his fingers on the small of your back, suddenly making you shiver in your own mistake. "Didn't I tell you not to curse when I'm around?"

His dominating stance, and the way his raspy, velvet voice which exerts authority had your heart skipping a thirsty beat and especially down there too.

"But, sir...." An embarrassing purr rolled off the tips of your tongue. You were too intoxicated for your own good, and you'll probably curse the heavens as to why Stan makes the best Martinis in town. You couldn't deny his wonderful offer, especially when it was free and all. Plus, the old goober was smiling in front of you like a Cheshire cat, a plan set on the back of his head which was also sipping its own glass of Margarita.

The old geezer had wicked plans if you've managed to squint your eyes back at him a little longer.

"Jesus Christ," he sternly uttered with a sharp in take of his breath and before you know it, your man had you in his brawny arms, derriere pinned down on his bathroom sink with your legs hastily parting for the latter to slip in between them. The crisp, icy temperature of his metal fingers grasping your jaw, keeping your slanted lips where he wanted as he continued his libidinous ministrations with you. Bucky's flesh hand on your waist, feeling a cool, moist-like cloth perched on your side and it was the towel he was ought to clean your face with.

His voluptuous Crimson red lips that had been in a constant fight of being bitten attacked your unpleasant, chapped lips. A bolt from the blue kept your mind stupefied because as much as you remembered, you were just loathing your very own reflection, yet now you were locking lips with your unofficial boyfriend.

Not that you were complaining because you've had this planned out inside your innocent mind already.

"You need," Bite. "to stop," Nibble. "swearing and," Kiss. "calling me sir," a secretive low moan which caught your ear as you nibbled his bottom lip back, "at the same time,"

Your drunken self couldn't help but feel the day-to-day itch forming in between your legs. It has been a-run-of-the-mill because of your restricted relationship with the highly requested Gigolo in east coast, the sudden impulse when he was around had been bugging you since day 1.

She had Bucky's face in between the palms of her hands, the growing five o-clock shadow tickling the sensitive tips of her fingers as she deepen her kisses. He was giving her the same intensity and probably a lot more than he intended to. There was a soft, involuntary moan which erupted out of you as you felt his probing tongue touch the tips of yours, igniting out a hitch of your breath when you sensed your fingers having its own mind of proceeding towards a place in which you've opted to fondle with.

"Yes," the latter breathlessly huffed in between kisses, feeling your soothing digits tenderly skim beneath his prominent, newly-clean shaven navel in a way that could get his crotch celebrating inside his pantaloons. You continued kissing him with the same ferocity, fondling over the waistband of his sweatpants before you felt cold, metal like fingers tightly grip your wrist to an unsatisfying halt. "N-No, no, not yet," he exasperated with a grump.

"Fuck," The thwarting gigolo muttered a few vulgar swearwords beneath his heaving breaths. You bit your lip with knotted eyebrows, a tight feeling in your chest which you so wanted to scream out loud because of your frustration as well. Didn't he want to continue because you were..you? Or--?

"You seriously leaving me frustrated like this, Booki?"

"Yes--," he automatically responded as he groaned to himself, his metal fingers brushing his tight locks in a disheveling manner. "I mean no! No, Yes?" he asked more so to himself, pulling a step back away from you like you were a fire to his destructive bomb.

The latter had been moving nonstop and it even got to the point of exerting his own push-ups in the middle of his bathroom; white shirt off as he threw it towards you in which you successfully caught in your hands. Bucky's body was built by Michaelangelo himself, he was sculpted to ruin you and probably also the hearts of his customers. Winter was sculpted by the heavens because of the beefy-ness he aspire to feed all the hungry lasses to which could include you in it. You admired the way his body works, how his bionic arm met his flesh body. In fact, it was amazing, though quite depressing because of what backstory it holds.

A backstory that you promise to yourself that you'll know.

He stopped mid-air while executing another set of push-ups, "I can help you--??" you gestured back at him as his Steele blue eyes stared at you with peculiarity before gazing down at your gesticulating hands that formed an 'O'; located in the middle part of you as you shifted it in a up and down manner. James Buchanan Barnes had no words to say at all, especially when you started to motion that certain hand of yours in the fore part of your opened mouth in a push and pull motion, "Or this could suffice? Will a blowjob suffice?" you garbled and continued to show him what you wanted to help him with.

It was as if his body weakened before him once he saw and understood what you meant. Winter didn't know what to do because he so wanted it to happen, he wanted it. Well, every man would. If you were just one of his clients, he would let that happen but it was you right now. You were the one asking for it, and those words coming from your lips seem to sound all too different.

Because James Buchanan Barnes had his heart involved in this one.

You weren't just one of his clients, you were more than that and he was sure of it. Steven Grant Rogers was even sure of it either.

Y/N was a person who was important him, she was as pure as a driven snow just by showing her his doting eyes whenever she sees him holding a bag full of food or those times whether she was being needy and just wanted to share her break time with him.

Though, today was an exception because he didn't expected her to become this much of a wild cat when drunk and Bucky Barnes damn knew well he wasn't complaining.

He so wanted that blowjob from his girl, and waiting for the right time was hurting his crotch and gentlemanly self.

"Or I could just help Steve instead?" you pondered more to yourself when you realized he wouldn't much take up the offer, he fell to the ground, mid air and face planked on the Vinyl tiles of his bathroom. You swayed your feet from above the sink, thoroughly guiltless with doe-like eyes when you saw him cursing the heavens for such a severe punishment for his sins.

"Well, It's not like Steve and I haven't actually done it?"

Hence, it was then and there that James Buchanan Barnes whom goes by the code name 'winter' and is also the highly requested gigolo of Felicity Night, in addition; a best friend of a very patriotic gigolo who could harm nobody started cursing Steven Grant Rogers for lying in front of his face.

What a best friend indeed, he was.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, TATER TOTS! Please leave feedbacks if you’re loving this fanfic of mine! Follow my blog to see more of my works and we shall fangirl/fanboy about SEBASTIAN STAN! 

[theyearoftheking]

Book Fourteen: Pet Sematary

“Sometimes people have to do things that just seem right. They seem right in their hearts, I mean. And if they do those things and then end up not feeling right, full of questions and sort of like they got indigestion, only inside their heads instead of their guts, they think they made a mistake...”

“Death is a mystery, and burial is a secret...”

So, it’s official guys: the world has become a Stephen King novel. We’re dealing with a worldwide pandemic like The Stand, and we’re all quarantined like The Shining. It’s kinda bizarre. 

So how did yours truly deal with the news of the impending apocalypse? 

I packed my bags and headed to New Orleans with my pals.

No, I wasn’t one of the people taking advantage of $30 flights a week out... we had booked this trip months ago, and the warnings were not as dire even early last week. But I will say, if the world is ending, I want to be in NOLA when it happens. Frosty drink, po boy... mama will be feeling no pain. 

And now I’m back home, drinking lemon water and trying to heal my liver after all the damage that was done last week. Oh, in the midst of all the debauchery, I managed to finish two Steve books. The first one was Pet Sematary; which was kind of ironic, considering one of our NOLA adventures was a cemetery tour. Here for your viewing pleasure is Nicholas Cage’s future place of burial. Rich people, am I right?

But while at the cemetery, we met a few charming Constant Readers from Bangor! They mentioned seeing Steve just a few weeks ago at the grocery store. It’s a good thing I don’t live in Bangor, I would have less than zero chill. But our new friends from Maine were lovely to talk to. 

On the surface, Pet Sematary is the story of the Creed family moving to Ludlow, Maine. Louis got a new job working at the university medical center, and his wife Rachel is down for the adventure. They have two kids, the precocious Ellie, and baby Gage (ugh. Even that name); and their cat Churchill. Upon their arrival in Ludlow, they meet their new neighbors: Jud and Norma Crandall. The Crandalls are a little older, but take to the Creed crew right away. 

Ludlow seems like a nice place. According to Jud, rabies seems like the biggest issue plaguing the entire state of Maine. “Lots of rabies in Maine now. There was a big old St. Bernard went rabid downstate a couple of years ago and killed four people. That was a hell of a thing...”

My post-it note for this page reads, “Cujo, bitches!” 

One afternoon, Jud takes the family on a hike, and shows them the old pet sematary right near their property. Later on at home, Rachel loses her shit. She doesn’t think children should be exposed to death, and it leads to a big ass fight. Louis is a doctor, and doesn’t think children should be sheltered from death. If they’re old enough to understand how babies are made, they’re old enough to understand how death works. But Rachel has some PTSD over the childhood death of her sister Zelda, and she’s never dealt with it. So her strategy is to brush the entire topic under the rug. At one point she tells Louis, “There’s nothing natural about death. Nothing. You as a doctor should know that.” 

Rachel, girl. Death is just about as natural as it gets. 

Thanksgiving rolls around, and Rachel takes the kids to see her asshole parents in Chicago, leaving Louis at home... where Churchill the cat ends up smooshed by an eighteen wheeler. Jud decides to take Louis on a little adventure, and shows him the burial ground behind the pet sematary, where whatever you bury comes back to life. 

I know. It’s a reallllly bad idea. Have these people not seen Practical Magic? Do they not understand how bringing back the dead never works out? Ugh. Idiots. 

Sidenote: if you haven’t seen Practical Magic, take advantage of quarantine time and go watch it. It’s late 1990′s Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman, and it’s basically the story of me and my sister. Kind of, but not really. 

So, Churchill comes back, but smellier and creepier; and it has Louis wondering why he brought him back from the dead in the first place. Even Ellie isn’t digging the new Church, and tells Louis she thinks she’ll be okay when he dies for good. So, mission accomplished? We’ll just refer to that as the weirdest damn parenting hack ever. 

Life continues on, until the horrible day when Gage is playing outside with Louis, and also gets smooshed by an eighteen wheeler. It’s a horrible tragedy, and the family is broken. Rachel is inconsolable, Ellie clutches a Polaroid of her and Gage, and Louis can’t make sense of the tragedy. But you already know what he’s thinking...

After the funeral, he sends Rachel and Ellie back to Chicago with Rachel’s (still) asshole parents; and begins the arduous process of burying Gage at the burial grounds. He knows better... he saw first hand what happened to Church after his resurrection. But he’s undeterred. He had visions of Gage becoming an Olympic swimmer, and will stop at nothing to bring his son back. 

Spoiler: it’s a shit show. Gage comes back from the burial grounds, swipes a knife from Louis’s doctor bag and kills Jud with it. He didn’t just come back a little smelly, or a little different... he came back as a Chucky doll. Back when Chucky was evil, before he became a comedic foil. 

Meanwhile in Chicago, Ellie is losing her shit, and having horrible premonitions that things are going terribly wrong in Ludlow. She finally convinces Rachel to go back home. Rachel knows something is wrong, but has no idea what Louis is really up to. I’m guaranteeing, “digging up dead son’s body, hauling it across town in the car, lugging it up to the burial ground, and waiting for him to come back to life” wasn’t in her top ten concerns.

 As she’s driving, she is trying her damnedest to stay awake, and sees a sign for one of our favorite towns in Maine, “Jerusalem’s Lot, she thought randomly, what an odd name. Not a pleasant name, for some reason... Come and sleep in Jerusalem.” 

Rachel gets home, and makes her way over to Jud’s house, where she finds his dead body, and is then killed by Gage, pretending to be her crazy, dead sister. Louis is forced to kill Gage, and then he buries Rachel up on the burial ground as well. The final lines of the book are, “A cold hand fell on Louis’s shoulder. Rachel’s voice was grating, full of dirt. Darling, it said.”

Meh. A mediocre ending to a decent book. I was curious why Louis brought Rachel back to life... he saw how terribly wrong it went with both Church and Gage... was he waiting for Rachel to kill him? Was he hoping that since he buried her sooner than Gage, she’d be more of a “normal zombie?” Unclear. 

But one thing is clear: I need to read The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs. It’s been referenced at least a million times up until this point, and I have no excuses now that I’m living the quarantined life. 

While the book was fine, I did think the topic of handling death with children was still relevant. It’s about as controversial a topic as it gets. Do we discuss it with children, or give them the line about pets/grandparents/old people moving to a farm and living there forever? How do we explain the afterlife? Where do people go when they die? A lot of times, adults don’t have good answers to these questions, and they don’t know how to communicate this uncertainty to children. Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting children know adults don’t have all the answers. We don’t know what happens when someone dies, and won’t know until we die ourselves. In my experience, kids kinda like knowing you don’t have all the answers either, but you’ll be there as a sounding board, and a safe place for them to confide their fears. Honest conversations like this could have been helpful for Rachel, and prevented this whole story from happening in the first place. Maybe? 

I don’t know. 

We did have one Dark Tower reference, “No more did he walk like a gunslinger; now his walk was the slow, careful walk of the convalescent...” 

And later on, Ellie thinks Church smells like, “ka-ka...” I can’t imagine it was ka for Church to get smooshed by a truck and brought back to life, but who the hell knows. I guess we all have a foggy, but bigger purpose. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 14

Total Dark Tower References: 10

Book Grade: C+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

Different Seasons: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

The Dead Zone: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Danse Macabre: B-

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Christine: D

Next up is Cycle of the Werewolf, which I have some thoughts about...

Until next time, Long Days and Pleasant Nights,

Rebecca

[tosomeonecherished]

the ‘intruder’ - a kim jongin bulletpoint scenario

okay so you’re currently doing the dishes beCAUSE YOU’RE A GOOD WIFE ™

gently might I add to keep anything from making loud noises because ya husbando had a long day and finally got his needed rest time (not beauty sleep because if that man got any more beautiful i would kamikaze myself)

despite your efforts one of the dishes makes a very loud squeak because you’re a clumsy ass

you felt bad because jongin and the boys had been working very hard to prepare for the new comeback

finally finishing all the dishes you tiptoe to your shared bedroom because you’re a fucking ninja

crawling under the cottten sheets jongin stirs a little in his sleep, turning over and encasing you in his muscular succulent arms

“sowwy if i woke you up bb”

“don’t fret, i was already awake and waiting for you bb”

“that’s very sweet bb but you shouldn’t have done that bb”

“it’s too late, just go to sleep bb”

ANYWAYS

you placed your head right where his heart was the melodic beat slowly lulling you into slumber when you realize

oh shit

i forgot to lock the door

you begin to slowly slither yourself out of jongin’s grasp like a SNAKE ™ (*cough* *cough* I’m talking about phi phi o’hara on rupauls drag race *cough* *cough* wot)

despite your groWN UP age the darks always kinda spooked you and everything downstairs looked very eerie and dark

taking a deep breath, trying to clear your head of thoughts of the spooky things

you got to mario jump over your couch but you catch you foot on the corner almost falling flat on yOUR FACE

you got laugh when you see a shadow move past your window

OH HELL TO THE NAH

you best be bookin your ass out that house and into the po po station

moving to crawl over to the opposite side of the couch to hide your body from view

your mental breakdown ensues

“it’s happening. this is it. imma die. what aboUT MY FISH!???!?!??!???”

but then your mind reaches the conclusion that it could just be a teenager returning home past curfew deciding to take a short cut through your yard

ya that’s right (y/n) you’re an adult person you got this that’s not real

you force yourself to stand up and walk over to the door to check the lock

when bitch…beFORE YOU COULD EVEN LAND A FINGER ON THE DOOR KNOB IT BEGINS TO TURN

slapping both hands over your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming the door knob kept turning but ceased to open

oh thank fuck

you locked the door

you then sonic back to your room to wake jongin beCAUSE YOU NEED HIS MUSCLES

“JONGIN!!?!? WAKE UPPPPP!????”

(you whisper yell because what if the hooligans trying to get into your house hear)

“wot, honey?”

“someone’s trying to get into the house?”

and that’s all it took to get jongin awake because he’s a good husbando and will protect you at all costs IM SOFT

he reached under his pillow and pull out this large ass box cutter hoW THE HELL

“stay here. i’ll go check it out.”

“no way josé. you might need my help.” (“whO TF IS JOSÉ” sorry wrong time for vine references)

“(Y/N), i dont want you to get hurt”

“and I dont want you to get hurt either. what if you get injured and I wasnt even there to help you out. i wouldnt be able to function properly for a while knowing i didnt do anything to help.”

jongin shut his mouth although groves you a pleading look further expressing his want to keep you there

“fine, but you stay behind me at all time. got it?”

“aye aye captain”

walking out of the bedroom the silence of the house gave you goosebumps and the strange shadows the moon was actin down surely wasnt helping

even jongin’s present didnt full put you to ease

once you guys finally reach the kitchen without any sign of the intrueder, the only sound was you and jongin’s heavy breathing and the very quiet hum of the dryer

the dryer stopped shortly after playing a tune that could only resemble the tune of an ice cream truck

usually you found it very uwu worthy but now it was just plain spoopy

*CUE OBNOXIOUS CRASH SOUND*

you and jongin both jump like 87 feet off the ground (it’s like mario and luigi up in this beach)

jongin quickly calms himself down and runs over to the kitchen window while you’re still having a tiny brain aneurism

“i think i see some movement, i’m gonna go check it out.”

“no no no no no no no no no nO NO. that’s how people always die in He movies. hey Susan you wanna check out the growling that came from the empty attic. NO FUCKING THANK YOU BARB. you is not going outside to check what kinda heathen did that.”

jongin walked towards you his thumb slowly grazing your lower lip cupping your cheek

“you are absolutely stunning.”

“NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO MAKE ME ALL MUSHY AND GUSHY JONGIN DEAR THANK YOU VERY MUCH THO FAM.”

don’t worry baby girl. you’ll be fine as long as you stay in the house. when i go outside i want you to lock the door behind me. okay? don’t worry everything’s going to be fine.”

before you could get a word in he slips out the door

“JONGIN? JONGIN?”

but alas he was already out of earshot, although reluctantly you did as he told

you slowly walk back towards the kitchen opening the fridge pulling out a bottle of wine taking a huge swig because it haS BEEN A LONG (ass ride) DAY

it was comepletey silent for what seemed like an hour when in reality it was probably only five minutes

you mind begins to run and the more worried you got the darker the scenarios seemed to unfold, you felt the waterworks coming

interrupting your thoughts a loud squeaking noise ran through the house bouncing off the walls

it sounded like an old door opening on its worn, rusty hinges

you quickly recognized it as the old back door youve been trying to get jongin to fix for the past 5 months

but just because the person got the screen door open doesn’t mean they’ll get the actual door open…unless you forgot to lock it..

you made your way over to the kitchen drawer pulling out this LARGE ASS BUTCHER KNIFE (we going dexter in this beach)

the sound of the second door shutting rang out throughout the room, however had tried to get in succeeded

you heard movement from outside the window spotting jongin so that means the intruder had gotten inside

wishing you could scream for help although you didnt want to give up your hiding spot ducking underneath your counter top

the should of foootsteps only became louder as they got closer to the kitchen… damn if this person didnt kill you a heart attack surely would

you were surprised when he walked right past you to the other side of the kitchen his back facing you

this was you chance

as stealthily as possible you crept towards him ready to strike liKE A SNAKE ™

unfortunately the floor freaked and the intruder spun around to face you, you acted on impulse running toward the person

he quickly flickers on the kitchen lights and grabbed you arm wielding the knife causing you to drop it

“whoa whoa whoA CALM DOWN”

you heart screamed when you realized who it was

“what. the. fuck.?”

“whew you almost gave me a heart attack i thought you were going to kill me.”

“GIVE YOU A HEART ATTACK WHAT THE HELL CHANYEOL I ALMOST COLLAPSED ON THE GROUND AND HAD A SEIZURE FORM BEING SO SCARED AND YOU TALKING TO ME ABOUT ALMOST HAVING A HEART ATTACK I THINK THE FUCK NOT YOU TRICK ASS BITCH.”

“gave you a heart attack? i thought you were a murderer?”

you what someone come through the back door and its a very angry jongin carrying a very spooked baekhyun

“baek?! you were in on this too?”

“no kinda…chanyeol made me.”

your eyes closed as you exhale loudly, picking up the knife you dropped, before heading over to the kitchen cannot to pull out some Advil for you forming headache

“why are you guys here,” asked jongin dropping baekhyun to the floor

“chanyeol wanted to get you back for putting hot sauce in his coffee this morning” baekhyun blurted obviously afraid of jongin’s wrath

jongin chuckled slightly before shutting up completely at your glare

after downing the pill you turn back to the two boys asking,

“can you two assholes please just go home now?”

“yep.”

“now i know not to ask baekhyun for help on a prank ever again”

“JUST GO!!!”

he quickly followed baekhyun out the door leaving just you and jongin

you walked over to jongin as he wrapped him arms around your waist resting your head on his chest, “you better think of a real good way to get them back” “don’t worry im cooking up something real good”

[anotherkriffingreyloblog]

Comments after watching the new trailer

Rey made the ground crack while meditating. She’s that powerful. Even Luke was like, “The fuck!?”

So what building is that burning over there, have we seen it before?

What’s on Kylos scar? Also, there he goes with being extra again, smashing his own helmet.

You’re not seriously going to shoot at you own mother, are you!? You betting fucking not. YOUR MOTHER LOVES YOU AND SHE HAS BEEN THROUGH A LOT IN HER LIFE ALRIGHT YOU POS SHE LOST HER PLANET HER FAMILY HER DAD WAS AN ASSHOLE YOU KILLED HER LOVER AND HER BROTHER RAN AWAY ON HER DON’T YOU DARE BREAK HER HEART AGAIN! 

If Kylo kills Leia, redemption will be impossible.

Why does Chewy look digital?

OMG IT’S A PORG AND IT’S MAKING A BATTLE CRY!

YEAH FINN TEAR THAT CHROME BITCH DOWN!

Are you ok my precious little ball-baby?

Glass wolves. Very Game of Thronesy. If their direwolves were made of glass.

Wait, Rey can SWIM!? How the fuck does she know how to swim, she’s lived on fucking Jakku!!!???

So, no drowning scene? No shirtless Kylo diving in after her?

Shit. Finn got caught. 

Wait, where’s Rose?

Where’s Hux?

Snoke is torturing Rey. I repeat, SNOKE IS TORTURING REY. Will Kylo step in and make him stop or will Rey break herself free?

“I need someone to show me my place in all this.” *Picture changes from Rey to Kylo*

What!?!

*Kylo offers out hand like a prince*

WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Also, no sign of Hux or his hairline.

[pipedream-truths]

i know we all ignore nora’s extra content anyway (*cough* andreil wedding *cough*) but i have headcanons about this fashion designer allison thing

okay so

allison goes pro. after fighting tooth and nail for the right to play exy there’s no way she’s giving it up after college. also no one expects her to actually do it or succeed so it’s a giant fuck you to all the haters

she’s the first fox to ever play professionally and when she gets signed she asks wymack if she’s made him proud. he tells her he was always proud.

once she’s on her new team (one whose colors are not that god awful orange this time) she notices some things about the uniforms that could use…improvement

initially her critique just gets written off as her being a bitch but now that she’s pointed it out everyone starts to see it, see what could be better. and especially her fellow women teammates pool ideas and research and resources until they’ve got crazily in depth designs that are just so much more functional and clean and appealing. they pitch the designs at a meeting their coach set up just so they’d spend more time practicing in the uniforms than ripping apart the outside of them.

the suits try to say no but theodora muldani happens to be on allison’s team and between allison and thea they don’t stand a chance.

i need a whole separate post for thea and allison’s friendship

so it’s agreed but when the new uniforms arrive the next season and the team is trying them on they still aren’t right? wtf? so allison decides to take matters into her own hands.

well, renee’s hands, at least in the beginning. renee’s really good at making clothes and allison bought her a high power commercial sewing machine for christmas last year so plug that baby in and let’s kick corporate ass

allison does learn how to do it all on her own. she just likes watching renee work, and it’s a way to spend extra time with her when she’s home and not halfway across the world

she starts small because the concern is brought up that if she just starts producing her own team merch it’ll be a contract violation or some other legal shit. so she just does the undergarments for her and her friends. then pretty much everyone on the team is placing an order in. then dan asks if she can do some stuff for a few of the people on the team she’s coaching. word spreads and the media gets ahold of it and starts praising allison’s ingenuity

there are few pos articles about how “women’s place has always been at the loom” and another that cries about her “struggle to stay in touch with her femininity in a predominantly male sport” detailing how she turned to clothing as a last refuge and sanctuary, which ??no?? but most of the media coverage is good for once in allison’s life

at that point her team higher-ups have to finally recognize what she’s doing and fall over themselves to sign agreements that she’s affiliated with them and whatever

she goes to a new team instead

the transition keeps her busy and the buzz dies down, so she has time to really consider and think about what she wants to do

a lot of time actually, because she gets injured in a game and is out for the rest of the season. it’s as she’s ranting to renee about what the point of wearing armor even is if her collarbone still snapped like a twig that she realizes yeah, their armor is really shitty, and she could do better?

once she gets a few prototypes made she enlists neil and matt to try it out. andrew doesn’t say anything the whole time until they’re packing up to leave

“add a mouth guard so josten can’t run his fucking mouth during games”

kevin finds out he wasn’t invited and throws a hissy fit which is exactly why she didn’t want him there in the first place. but kevin knows exy better than anyone and will know any weaknesses in the armor better than anyone so she gives him the new version and leaves him at the court for a few hours. when she picks him up they outline every good and bad thing

the new gloves may or may not be called day gloves.

if they are it’s just because there’s a black version called night gloves

so eventually, after it’s been tested a million times and she has a few sets of it, allison’s gotta patent this shit. she’s gotta patent it and gotta unveil it in the most dramatic way possible.

the question: how?

she doesn’t want to just sell all her hard work to some bigger company or have it be attached to whatever team she’s playing for now. or any team for that matter. she wants this new gear to be accessible to all. and affordable. unlike the two hundred fifty “02” kevin day sweatshirt currently on sale at exites that she’s so buying him for his birthday just to embarrass him

she did not expect neil to have the same sweatshirt? apparently it’s part of some inside joke between him and andrew about neil being obsessed with kevin? who the fuck knows what goes on there. definitely not allison.

anyway

by this time it’s getting close enough to the olympics that Court training is getting super intense

like, if not for the whole nest thing, kevin and jean and neil probably wouldn’t leave the stadium

if we’re ignoring the extra content then we’re ignoring that jean doesn’t make Court

thea tells allison kevin had to get his own bed because with both his racquet and the dog in the bed there’s no room for her and she sure as hell isn’t giving up her memory foam mattress

for whatever reason this pathetic story about kevin sparks an idea in allison (probably has to do with her preying on everyone else’s current patheticness)

using all her reynolds bargaining skills and fox brutality along with renee’s charm, she bullies the people in charge into replacing their former super expensive top grade gear with allison’s new stuff. she goes home after days and days of debate and arm-twisting and lying through her teeth and collapses onto the couch. renee has to hold her pretty much until the next morning before she’s recovered enough to even move.

“i feel like a politician babe. wash my face for me, i can feel the political pimples coming out of my pores.”

and of course allison’s new gear is better than any other team’s. she didn’t spend a month schmoozing up to that swedish developer just to be usurped on an international level. and she didn’t learn japanese just to talk to kayleigh and tetsuji’s original developers for nothing either.

what better way to establish yourself than the fucking olympics

“I’m like a fucking superhero babe” she says, feet in renee’s lap, wine in hand, gold medal around her neck

compared to dealing with everyone involved with the Court deal, the rest of it is a piece of cake

she retires not long after the olympics

once she does that, she can focus on her brand

renee suggests she connect with her younger customers

bond with the kids. youth outreach stuff. allison tries to get away with just donating a bunch of armor but renee gives her a Look so allison actually goes and talks to some of them.

she pretty much hates it. the only kids she likes are her foxes’. but she does meet a few little ones who her success has impacted and encouraged and that’s. that’s something.

once it gets so big she can’t manage everything, it’s with great reluctance that she dials an international call to germany.

nicky’s only reservation is the amount of time he’ll spend stateside versus at home with erik, but they work it out and allison leaves him in charge of marketing with a promise to rip off his balls and feed them to erik junior the goldfish if nicky screws up her company

she expands into generalized athletic/active wear, normal stuff that isn’t exy exclusive.

“what other sport is there other than exy”

“stickball” andrew whispers

“AGAIN WITH THE STICKBALL WHAT IS STICKBALL”

poor kevin

bc why do anything if you can’t look and feel good doing it

her parents try to invest in the company.

that’s a giant fuck no. she built this baby from the ground up. it is hers. they didn’t want her and exy before and they’re not getting her and exy now. in no way does she ever want to be tied to them or their money ever again.

she goes into exites sometimes to scope out what the people actually buying her product say about it and there it is. that kevin day sweatshirt. she nearly buys out the exites chain just to make them stop selling it.

allison reynolds gets inducted into the exy hall of fame for her contribution to the sport as a Court gold medalist and for revolutonizing exy armor forever.

[bugaboozma]

I wish you would write a fic where... There's a frightened wild wimpod under the bed. Nothing seems to lure it out. Guzma crawls under the bed in a last ditch attempt to retrieve the poor thing and gets stuck in the process.

A chance for humor?? Awwww yis!  

~

This is no ordinary Wimpod. It just can’t be. No, this Wimpod is the most rowdy thing that ever skittered on four tiny legs. “Wild” is an understatement; it’s not wild, it’s demonic. This is the Wimpod that hell itself rejected and sent to Po Town as punishment for Team Skull’s misdoings. 

Or at least it sure feels that way. 

No one knows how it got in or where it came from, but for the past 8 hours it’s been terrorizing any grunt it happens upon. They’d tried all manner of traps they could construct out of whatever was lying around the mansion, but nothing would do. Not pokeballs, not boxes, laundry baskets, blankets, or lampshades. The hallways were cluttered with failed attempts. 

Guzma stops at the top of the stairs at the sight of the mess. “What is this Loony Tunes shit?!” he demands from the three grunts setting up yet another trap.

At the sound of yelling, the Wimpod erupts out from underneath the couch it was hiding under, snipping at the legs of passerby. 

At the same time, Plumeria’s door opens. “What are you going off about now?”

The Wimpod zips past Guzma at such a speed that he’s not even sure what he’s looking at. He yelps and jumps back in surprise, nearly falling down the stairs as the gray and red blur sails past him and right into Plumeria’s room. 

Plumeria screams and leaves her door for the hallway. “What the hell was that?!”

The three grunts leave their useless traps to meet their boss and admin. “It’s a Wimpod! But it’s like, possessed or something.” Grunt A tells them, catching his breath. 

Guzma runs a hand down his face in exasperation. “It ain’t possessed; it’s just wild and scared.” 

Grunt B scratches at his chin. “Ok, boss, but somethin’ ain’t right with that pokemon.”

“Maybe it’s got Pokerus,” says Grunt C, readjusting her hat. 

Plumeria crosses her arms. “Whatever it is, and whatever’s wrong with it, I want it out of my room.”

Thus began a new set of trials and tribulations. 

The Wimpod’s taken refuge under Plumeria’s bed: a mahogany monstrosity so large and heavy that any attempts to move it for redecorating purposes had been abandoned. It was exactly where they’d found it after taking over Po Town and the mansion, and there it would stay. 

Guzma knew this, and yet it’s the very first thing they try. All five members try to lift the bed at once, but despite their straining, it doesn’t budge. They retreat when the cornered Wimpod begins launching attacks at their vulnerable legs. 

Guzma scratches at the back of his neck in confusion. “You sure that thing ain’t nailed down?”

“We’re gonna have to come up with something else,” Plumeria says, rubbing at her strained arm. “Aren’t you like, the Wimpod whisper or whatever?”

Guzma shrugs. “I can give it a shot.” He kneels down by the bed and bends over until he spots a pair of glowing yellow eyes looking back at him. “Hey,” he addresses the wild pokemon. “Get the fuck out.”

Absolutely nothing happens. 

He stands. “Welp, did my best. I got other shit to do, so-”

“Oh no,” Plumeria interrupts him. “This is your shit to do now.”

Guzma sighs. “Can’t you just, uh - what’s the word - cohabitate or something?”

Before Plumeria can answer, there’s the awful sound of wood and metal being rent apart from under the bed. 

“What the fuck?” Guzma whispers. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll try and sleep with that going on,” Plumeria says sarcastically. 

Guzma’s interest has been renewed. “I’ve never seen a Wimpod this aggressive.”

“Told ya!” says Grunt A. 

“It’s the most hardcore Wimpod that’s ever existed,” B adds. 

“It ain’t even been scared of nothin’ all day!” from C. 

Guzma shushes them, kneeling back down to once again make eye contact with the creature. The others watch as the gang leader in front of them says in a sing-song, high-pitched voice, “Hey little bug. Hello tiny baby cutie pie. Why don’t you come out of the dark scary bed and I’ll give you some nice pokebeans, huh?”

The three grunts and Plumeria look at one another. 

Plumeria rolls her eyes. “Guzma, knock that shit off before I kick you in the ass. It’s right there. I’ll do it.” 

But then he’s pulling a pokebean from his pocket and leaving it on the ground just underneath the bed. 

They all watch anxiously as the pokemon draws closer and picks up the bean in its mouth. 

“Shit, man, boss really is the Wimpod whisperer!” says A

Guzma smirks. “Ya see? All it takes is a little patience and understanding and-”

The Wimpod spits out the bean, launching it at Guzma’s face. It hits him right in the nose.

“You little shit!” Guzma yells, stretching an arm under the bed and swiping out the pokemon with an arc before it can make a retreat. 

Now without the cover of the bed, it runs wild circles around the room. It makes for the door, but this time Plumeria closes it before it can run through.

Grunt A jumps up on the bed and screams. Guzma shouts for them to “catch it,” and B and C both dive for the pokemon only to collide into one another. 

Having evaded everyone in the room, the Wimpod zips back under the bed. 

B and C rise, one holding his nose has blood drips out, and the other with a hand over her split lip. Grunt A descends from the bed, looking embarrassed. 

Plumeria puts a frustrated hand to her forehead. “Just go get cleaned up,” she tells the three grunts. They leave her and Guzma to it. 

Guzma gets a pokeball out of his pocket. He’s starting to wonder what more they can do for this Wimpod that’s acting far more aggressive than it should. Maybe this new strategy would help. From the pokeball emerges his Golisopod. 

“What’s he gonna do?” Plumeria asks. 

Guzma rubs at his neck. “I dunno. Talk to the little guy?”

Plumeria looks dubious. “Worth a shot I suppose.” 

Guzma turns toward his Golisopod, “Ok, so listen, buddy.”

The giant bug chitters in response. 

“You gotta convince the Wimpod under the bed to come out, got it?”

Golisopod nods. He bends over as much as he can and warbles into the shadows beneath the mattress. 

The Wimpod responds calmly. 

Golisopod continues. 

The Wimpod growls. Something in their conversation is not going pleasantly. 

Golispods antennae twitch back and forth aggressively. It rumbles in warning to the pokemon under the bed. 

“What’s happening?” Guzma asks. 

“Wimpod probably called you a dumbass,” Plumeria answers. 

Now both pokemon are growling at each other. The noise grows in intensity until suddenly the Wimpod appear at the edge of the bed, screaming with all its got, legs raised and waving menacingly in the air. 

Golispod lets out a deafening roar and launches himself at the bed, tearing at the sheets and mattress to get to the pokemon below. 

“Call him back!” Plumeria yells. 

Guzma scrambles for Golisopod’s pokeball and returns the pokemon. “That’s the strangest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Aren’t these guys usually afraid of everything?” Plumeria says, checking the sheets on the bed for tears. 

Guzma nods. “Yeah, but this one seems to have a real fire up its ass.” He gets down on his hands and knees again, examining the space between the bed and floor. He could fit. Barely. Well, they don’t have a ton of other options, right? He begins to crawl underneath. 

“Are you crazy?!” Plumeria asks

Guzma’s focused on dragging himself under the bed while keeping an eye on the Wimpod. “Lemme just see…” 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked by a bug,” Plumeria mutters. 

Slowly, inch by inch Guzma crawls using his elbows and feet toward the pair of angry looking yellow eyes. He reaches into his pocket for his phone (which wasn’t easy in this position) and uses it as a flashlight. 

To his surprise, the pokemon shies away from the light. 

Guzma tries to move forward again, but then there’s a tugging on the waistband of his pants. He moves again, but something’s got him held there. He attempts to twist around, but there’s hardly any room. Then he catches a glimpse of it: a random nail hanging out of the bottom of the bed has pierced his pants.  

“Son of a bitch!” he yells, slamming the phone down and making the underside of the bed dark again. 

In response, the Wimpod rushes toward him and roars once again, legs waving in the dark. Guzma winces, but no attack comes. He blinks at the bug, then holds up his phone again. Wimpod retreats from the sudden light. 

“What is it?!” he hears Plumeria call. 

“Pants are stuck on a nail!” 

“So take them off!”

“What, so this thing can bite my ass? No way!”

Plumeria sighs. “Look I’m getting cocoa. You can figure this out.” The door clicks closed behind her after she’s gone. 

Guzma shines the light at the pokemon, examining it. This Wimpod is red where is should be purple and he’s never seen another like it. A fiery coloration to match it’s fiery personality. 

Then he notices something else - something glimmers in the glow of the phone. There, lodged between its scales is what appears to be a thumbtack. “Is that your damn problem?” he asks it. 

The pokemon hisses at him. 

Guzma jerks a thumb toward his backside where the nail is holding his pants. “Yeah, yeah, me too.” He thinks for a moment. “Look, I’m gonna come over there and help you, ok? Don’t you bite my ass.” 

It’s slow going and takes a lot of maneuvering in the tiny space, but Guzma manages to wriggle out of his pants, and reach the Wimpod in his boxers. 

The creature shies away from him and the light. 

Carefully, Guzma slowly reaches for the thumbtack, and removes it. 

The Wimpod roars once more in his face… but then it calms. Guzma swears he sees it actually sigh in relief. 

He smiles at it. “You ready to come out now?” 

Wimpod’s antennae twitch. Now both free from what bothered them, they both make for the exit. 

Standing in his boxers and holding the now much friendlier Wimpod to his chest, he tells it, “I’m gonna call you Tacky,” as it licks his chin.   

[ezra-blue]

You’ve Got Something - 36

For @baronvonriktenstein‘s Messy!AU

36: No Idea

Sanzo learns and must decide how to apply a very important lesson.

Happy Birthday to Goku! ... This chapter does not focus on him, but he does play an important role. Enjoy!

Word Count: ~3700

Warning: This chapter includes an explicit mention of sexual activity, as well as acts that may be considered child abuse. 

36: No Idea

Something felt off. Sanzo couldn't place what it was, but stepping out of the bakery that evening under an overcast sky, walking towards his car, lighting up his first smoke of the night, it all felt wrong. He had this constant, nagging, itchy sensation that he'd missed something, like some small cog had come loose in the clockwork framing of the universe and now the whole thing was ticking wrong. He knew he'd done everything he was supposed to, what could possibly be wrong?

He tried to mull it over as he walked the block towards where he'd parked today, tried to think of some task forgotten, some habit skipped, some favor he'd promised Koumyou (or that Koumyou had forced him to agree to, one or the other), but nothing came to mind. Perhaps it was the slight sense of wrongness he'd been feeling off of Hakkai, but he hadn't talked to Hakkai today. Perhaps that was it. He paused and took his cell out (ignoring the messages of happy emoticons he'd gotten from Goku) and went to text Hakkai the evening numbers, but just as he pulled up the POS system, he got a text message from an unfamiliar number -- no text, just an attachment. It was morbid curiosity that convinced him to check this message first.

His phone displayed a photograph of Hakkai, on his knees on his sofa, wrists bound with a belt, naked, skin flushed red, and with obvious handprints on his bare backside and thighs and a stream of ejaculate running down his back. Sanzo choked on his smoke. "Son of a bitch!" He dialed the number, and the other end picked up on the first ring. "What the fuck, Gojyo, that's not fucking--"

"Oh, has Gojyo shared his treasure with you before?" All of Sanzo's heat and bluster was smothered in an instant, as Nii answered instead. "It's a shame for you, then, since I'm fairly certain Hakkai won't be sharing any of that ever again."

Sanzo's cigarette fell from his mouth, and he superheated from cold shock to his temper boiling over. “You son of a bastard, what did you do?!”

“I decided to close up my unfinished business with my ex.” Sanzo's shoulders tensed, the bones in his back and spine all tensing up. How could Nii sound so fucking nonchalant?! The very thought of Hakkai going back to Nii was pure insanity!

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“I wasn't done with him. Now, I am.” Nii chuckled, as if any of this were funny. “One last lesson in muichimotsu.”

Sanzo's insides roiled with rage, but he tempered his fury enough to growl, “You're a bastard,” rather than screaming it. “I have no idea how you convinced Hakkai to sleep with you again, but what the fuck are you talking about, muichimotsu? You're terrible at letting go. You obviously nursed your stupid grudge long enough to come back and fuck with him one more time, who the fuck are you to talk about holding nothing?”

“Ah, I don't need lectures from you, little Kouryuu.” Nii sounded as bored with him as one might listening to a discussion of one's own fingernails. “After all, I'm not the one wasting my time thinking about things like committing.” Sanzo felt like his collar had been jerked, hard. “Thinking about your future, Kouryuu? Thinking about setting down roots here and setting up to coast?” Nii laughed through his nose, and Christ, Sanzo could just picture him sneering into his collar. He stomped hard, imagining Nii's smirking mug was underfoot.

“How the fuck do you know what I'm thinking?” His voice was hardly a hiss, and he hoped others walking nearby couldn't hear him.

“What does it matter? You haven't learned yet, baby brother, nothing turns out the way you think it will. I tried to teach you, in a much gentler way than I'd been taught, little Kouryuu. Nothing works the way you think, and oh, how quickly things change.”

Sanzo ground his teeth together at the sound of his name, because he still remembered, still loathed every time Nii said it...

“Kouryuu, here.” Kouryuu had followed Ken'yuu into the kitchen, toddling knee-high to his nearly-grown big brother. Ken'yuu whistled and beckoned Kouryuu as he opened the refrigerator, and Kouryuu scampered over to join him, pointed at the bottle of soda.

“Wan' that. Can I have it?”

“Dad'll be mad if I give you that, don't fuss.” Ken'yuu winked and stuck his tongue out at Kouryuu as he whined, then rummaged through the refrigerator. “But he said to give you a snack. You wanna snack, little Kouryuu?”

“Mhm.” Kouryuu nodded, his yellow hair bobbing, and Ken'yuu found a white box. Kouryuu's heart leapt. Papa's peach buns! “Gimme!”

“So impatient.” Ken'yuu chuckled, but opened the box and picked one out. “These are special, okay? Don't tell Dad. Say 'ahh.'” Kouryuu opened his mouth wide, and Ken'yuu put something on his tongue. Kouryuu bit down and chewed, but something was immediately wrong. It wasn't the chewy, tasty mochi dough, there was no cloyingly sweet peach-paste middle. Instead, there was a crunch, waxy and crisp skin, and then, his mouth burned.

“Ahh!” Kouryuu cried out and spat out something bright red and green, but his mouth and tongue were still on fire. Ken'yuu had half of a peach bun in his hand and laughed as Kouryuu screamed and wailed at the heat on his tongue.

“I never said you were going to have it. Dad likes you to have vegetables, right? That's one of Papa's jalapeno peppers. Can you say 'jalapeno,' little Kouryuu?” Kouryuu couldn't answer, too preoccupied screaming...

Every time Ken'yuu had said his name.

Koumyou invited Ken'yuu along to help with shopping for Kouryuu's first grade uniform, though likely it was to help keep an eye on Kouryuu for when Koumyou inevitably met someone he knew and got absorbed into an unavoidable catch-up conversation. Ken'yuu and Kouryuu had been waiting outside of the shoe store next to one of the pillars for nearly twenty minutes while Koumyou chatted with some women he knew, Kouryuu dutifully holding the bags, and Ken'yuu flipping through a pocket-sized book. Out of nowhere, Ken'yuu slapped his own forehead, making Kouryuu jump.

“Kouryuu!” Ken'yuu spun around and bent over, still hovering over Kouryuu and close to his face. “Kouryuu, I just realized, I left my chocolate in the book store! I bought a bar of chocolate, and I was going to share it with you, but I left the bar in the shop.”

Kouryuu felt a sting of suspicion, but he bit his lip. He did love chocolate, but... “What kind?”

“The one right by the cash register, with the almonds.” Ken'yuu quickly grabbed the bags, then motioned for Kouryuu to go. “I'll hold the bags and stay here, can you run over and get it for me?”

Kouryuu nodded and hurriedly toddled off. The book store wasn't far, Dad probably wouldn't miss him, and, of course, chocolate was delicious. He shuffled right to the cash register past all of the books, took the chocolate bar and held it up for the cashier in her green apron to see, and said, “My brother forgot this.” Then, he turned around and walked back out.

The cashier shouted after him, “Hey, wait!” Kouryuu hadn't wanted anything else, so he returned to Ken'yuu, but the woman kept shouting. Kouryuu ignored her, returning to Ken'yuu just as Koumyou came out of the shoe store, further bags in hand.

“I'm sorry that took so long!” Koumyou smiled and fluffed Kouryuu's hair. “I hope you boys didn't get bored without me?”

“No, of course not.” Ken'yuu's nose was back in his book, and Kouryuu was about to offer him the chocolate, when he heard footsteps running towards them, and all three turned and saw a security guard approaching with the woman from the book store.

“That's him.” She pointed directly at Kouryuu. “He said something, then walked off with a five-dollar chocolate bar.”

Koumyou gasped, and crouched down. “Kouryuu, did you?” Kouryuu, with the chocolate bar still in hand, held it out, and was about to turn to Ken'yuu to tell him to explain, but Ken'yuu merely clicked his tongue.

“Ghirardelli, Kouryuu? You've got good taste for a kid with empty pockets.”

Kouryuu's jaw fell, and Koumyou took the chocolate bar back from him and gave it to the woman.

“I'm terribly sorry, sir, he's only six, I thought he understood that one needs to exchange money for goods and services,” Koumyou began to explain, all while patronizingly patting Kouryuu's head, and Kouryuu seethed with embarrassment.

It was worse every time.

Kouryuu knew he was being obvious, but he couldn't help it. He didn't have a lot of friends, so when another boy in class who wasn't sullen, withdrawn Hakkai or his intensely sweet sister took interest in him as a friend, he found himself silently mooning over him. Even quiet afternoons studying were spent with his heart pounding in his chest, his heels bouncing under the table. His friend hadn't seemed to notice.

Ken'yuu had.

“Oh, Kouryuu.” Ken'yuu stuck his head in the kitchen, and Kouryuu arched his back as Ken'yuu wagged an eyebrow at him and his school companion. “Studying? Mind if I join in?”

Kouryuu could only watch helplessly as Ken'yuu seated himself next to his school friend, as Ken'yuu smirked and winked and charmed him, and in what felt like an instant, his only friend was under his brother's spell. Sometimes Kouryuu wondered if Ken'yuu only saw him as a way to lure in guileless teenagers, as bait for a predator, or if he only enjoyed flirting Kouryuu's friends away from him so that they would never talk to him again.

Either way, Ken'yuu had soon distracted his friend into coming with him to get ice cream, and Kouryuu was left alone, and the next he spoke to his friend, he couldn't look Kouryuu in the eye. Now, he was just another faceless, nameless memory that Ken'yuu had tainted into shadow.

He couldn't even look at him without rage boiling through his lungs.

“Out here alone, little Kouryuu?” Kouryuu stewed when the sliding door opened and Ken'yuu emerged, grinning down at him where he crouched down against the wall. Kouryuu quickly smashed the cigarette he'd filched out of Toudai's jacket, but Ken'yuu smirked in such a way that Kouryuu knew he had seen. Kouryuu just scoffed, his lip curling, in a practiced expression that he'd picked up after sixteen years of exasperation, frustration, and annoyance at his older brother. Tonight, though, he had worse things swirling through his mind. Ken'yuu squatted down next to him, hunched over like a particularly devious frog examining a pond, and Kouryuu sniffed and pulled his knees tight to his chest. “Dad says you got a day's suspension for fighting. Lemme guess – the 'two dads' thing?”

“Like you care.”

“Of course I care, little Kouryuu; you're my only little brother, after all.”

“As if,” Kouryuu muttered, and Ken'yuu flicked his shoulder.

“Louder; I'm an old man, remember?” He chuckled half-heartedly and jostled Kouryuu's shoulder, shaking him around roughly. “Mumbling is rude.”

“Whatever.” Kouryuu rolled his eyes and tried to pull his knees in tighter. Ken'yuu merely slung an unwelcome arm around his shoulders. It felt so heavy, too heavy, like one more anchor of gravity against him.

“Kouryuu, I've been there. The 'adopted' thing, the fact that we have two fathers, it makes us stand out, and in high school, where you're expected to conform, the nail that sticks out is the one that gets hammered down.” Ken'yuu kept his arm around Kouryuu as he took out a cigarette and flipped it to his mouth, then lit it up. “And of course, kids are dumb, and they just keep hammering and hammering at'cha, 'til even they're sure you're flat. The good news is.” Ken'yuu paused to drag on his cigarette, leaving Kouryuu hanging like so much drifting smoke. He blew a smoke ring to loop around the pair of them, and finished, “Eventually, they start ignoring you, if you ignore them long enough.”

“Mm.” Sometimes, it was easy to forget Ken'yuu had been raised by the same parents as him. He hadn't been with them when he was little, but they'd done what they could for him. “I guess you're right.”

“Besides, they're not wrong.”

Kouryuu felt a cold, sick sensation in the pit of his gut, one that was too terribly familiar by now. He tried to move a hand to plug his ears, but Ken'yuu wasn't letting him move his arm. “You know why they kick you around. Because you are strange. You are weird. Being adopted isn't normal. You can't imagine how many times I heard 'your parents didn't love you.' They didn't, of course. Why else would they have gotten rid of you the way they did?” Ken'yuu chuckled again, and the icy feeling in Kouryuu's stomach prickled, his intestines freezing solid and dying. “Perhaps that's more me than you. I actually got in touch with the people who threw me out. Once. Yours is dead, isn't she? No idea who one half of the equation is, but didn’t Koumyou tell you about your mother?” Ken'yuu clicked his tongue a few times, and Kouryuu squeezed his eyes shut. “So, you are strange. Other people won't accept you. You could just accept that nobody outside of this house is going to accept you as you are and let it go, but you're going to have to be reminded of it every day, every time you walk out those front doors, that someone's going to be cruel to you. Just forget about them. There's no point in trying to get attached to people like that. You might as well get used to being alone.” Ken'yuu slyly tipped his eyes back into the house, and Kouryuu shivered. “After all, someday, you will be.” He patted Kouryuu's shoulder hard, in a failed facsimile of brotherly affection. It just made Kouryuu shake.

Then, abruptly, Ken'yuu hopped up and called into the house, “Toudai, I'm out of smokes, can you spot me one?” Kouryuu covered his ears as he faintly heard Toudai saying his pack was in his jacket, Koumyou starting to scold him, and Toudai discovering that his pack was gone, but God, all he wanted was quiet, quiet, not to hear it anymore, even as all three of them started to shout his name...

“Oh, Kouryuu.” Nii sighed wistfully, clicking his tongue down the line, and Sanzo clenched his fist tight, tense down his hunched spine all the way to his heels rooted on the concrete. “Didn't you learn? I was only trying to teach you what you needed to know.”

“That the world is a miserable place and life is terrible? Fucking hell, it was because you wanted it to be that way and made it that way! You're all twisted up over stupid shit like your fucking parents leaving you and foster care and shit, you didn't let go of that! Fuck you, you're just a bitter sociopath who likes fucking with people, the world is terrible because you make it that way!”

Nii didn't respond for a moment, and Sanzo heaved, his breathing so loud in his ear. The dim sky was darkening as the sun set, though the sky was beginning to clear as black ink crept up past the clouds. Then, Nii snickered. “Is that what you learned? Ah, well. So be it.” Sanzo closed his eyes tight, gripping the phone so hard he couldn't feel his knuckles. “That's my truth. Life is pain, love is worthless, and nothing is worth holding on to. You know as well as anyone how fast love can vanish. How is Toudai, anyway?” Nii paused, and Sanzo braced himself, glaring at the blackening sky on the horizon and letting it mute any reaction he might have wanted to have. “Ah, and how about that boy you're seeing? Goku, isn't it?”

That could not stand. “Stay away from him.”

“Oh, I make no promises.” Nii chuckled again, and Sanzo seethed, grinding his heels down. “But really now, Kouryuu, if things are as you want to think they are, what do you have to be afraid of?”

“Sanzo?”

That voice wasn't on the phone. Sanzo pivoted around and found Goku on the sidewalk behind him, oil still smudging his cheek and his backpack in hand. Sanzo heard the other end of the line hang up and dropped his arm, then stared warily at Goku. Goku gawked at him – he could tell he was pale, his face felt like it had been dunked in ice water – but Sanzo tried to shake it off and approach him.

“What are you doing here?” He studied Goku's face as Goku, frowning, seemed to be doing the same in return.

“Um. I work that way –” He pointed behind him. “And the bus home is this way.” He pointed down the sidewalk, then grinned. “I'm surprised you're here this late, though. Is something wrong?”

His smile was so innocent, Sanzo almost couldn't stand it right now. “Nii called me. Just to tell me Hakkai went back to him.”

That wiped that smile off. “Wh-what?!” Goku's jaw dropped. “But... he...” His wide eyes were nearly wet, gaze darting to and fro like a bird panicking in a cage. “I thought... he and Gojyo...” Goku motioned vaguely, then threw his hands up. “What about Gojyo?”

“Who knows? Hopefully he has sense enough to kick Hakkai to the curb when he finds out, nobody deserves that.” Sanzo crossed his arms tight, stress tightening his jaw and making him grind his teeth. Goku shook his head with frantic horror.

“No, no way! Gojyo cares about him, a lot! Plus, Nii's a jerk, maybe he's lying.”

“He's not lying.” Even thinking about the proof he'd seen made Sanzo feel a little sick under his anger.

“But...” Goku swallowed. “They're supposed to be together.”

“So what?” Sanzo dug out a cigarette, his fingers trembling through the practiced motions, and he shook his head to himself. The tension was in his knuckles, his knees, everything, and even Goku's presence was starting to erode at what was left of his energy. “Shit changes. Sometimes, something like that just isn't worth holding onto. If Gojyo's smart, he'll let go and get over it.”

Goku bit his lip and let his gaze tip towards the ground. “No. Love changes with you. When you love someone, when you really love 'em, you change with 'em! The only reason you should stop is if they don't change with you, and I know Gojyo, I know he can do it for Hakkai!”

“What the fuck do you even know?” Sanzo hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh, but everything felt too raw. Even when Goku grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his eyes, knocking the cigarette from his mouth, his annoyance snapped straight to apoplexy, even as Goku said it:

“Because I'd do it for you. I love you, Sanzo.”

Oh, fuck, Sanzo couldn't have heard that. Goku's eyes, so bright, so determined, were drilling into him, his lips set in a thin, serious line, confidence in his stance, and Sanzo wanted to melt. He should have known, he should have thought, but he didn't want to hear it. Everything that meant, everything that could have meant, his memories and conflicts swarmed up over him, it can't last, it won't last, it'll vanish, it'll be snatched away from me! And Sanzo locked up, jaw tight, shoulders back, joints tight like they'd been drilled in place. “You have no idea what that means.”

“Yes I do!” Goku advanced another step, and Sanzo had to will himself against the urge to retreat, he couldn't show weakness, not now. “It means I wanna stay with you, no matter what, and--”

“You have no idea!” Sanzo shoved Goku back. Hurt flashed through Goku's expression, but Sanzo gritted his teeth. “Sure, it changes. It changes, it leaves, it dies.”

“No, dammit! Maybe sometimes, but not all the time!” Goku held his hands out towards Sanzo. “Why don't you believe me? And if you didn't want love – if you didn't think you liked me like that, then why did you want to see me at all?”

Sanzo flinched, but he shook his head. “It doesn't matter.”

“But... I care about you!” Despair tinged Goku's voice, his eyes going wide. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Sanzo felt an ache in him, accompanied by the sudden notion that this was his turning point. Either he accepted what Goku was offering, and all the risks that came with it, or he throw it away.

He hardened his heart and made the only smart decision.

"No."

Goku staggered back, as sure as if he'd taken a blow to the chest, but Sanzo held firm, as hard as the concrete under his shoes. Then, Goku sucked his lip in and tried to will the emotion from his face. "Fine." He lowered his head. "Tell Mr. Koumyou and Mr. Toudai I'll miss 'em. I won't bother you anymore." With that, he charged off in the direction he'd been heading, face down, arms crossed tight over his chest.

So much of Sanzo wanted to reach for him, to chase after him, to try to explain, "this is for your own good, you don't want to learn the hard way," but for Goku, this was probably hard enough. He wouldn't understand. He wouldn't want to.

His knees were shaking, his throat hurt. He wished the clouds would come back, blot out the moonless evening sky, and drown the rain that threatened to spill from his eyes and down his face, but he swallowed hard, pushed it all back, and tried to reassure himself: "Just let it go." He shook his head and tried to turn for his car, already feeling lost.

Maybe the world really had gone crazy.

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

Scarlett Spider #1

(Hey, kids. It’s Director’s Cut time again, the time when I find really old fanfics and make them better and/or worse through the power of second drafts. One of these days, I’m gonna run out of subjects that I personally was involved in, but today’s not that day. Let’s talk Spider-Man, bitches!)

(Spider-Man was one of my favorite super heroes growing up. Part of that could have been the whole “every day nerd turning out to be a super cool guy” thing that became standard procedure for YA fiction in the nineties and 2000′s, or it could have been the fact that Spider Man was a super hero who dealt with terrible, life-threatening scenarios by snarking at them, making him my spandex clad spirit animal. It sure as hell couldn’t have been the spider part, because I’m pretty sure even now, I would not want to be even in the same room as a radioactive spider, even if its bites made you a super hero and didn’t, say, just give you spider-cancer.)

(Of course, one of the best things about the comic book universe, in my opinion, is the fanfiction side of things. Rather than indulge in complex sexual fantasies involving mass murderers being made tame in the presence of horny women or turning potentially years worth of established canon on its head to justify two men being reduced to a rudimentary desire to touch each others dinguses, the world of comic book fanfics gives us a greater chance of running into power fantasy of a very typically male bent. Such is the case with our buddy, the appropriately named Max Mercury, and his story about a totally not like the author teenage boy who’s best friends with a super hero and then becomes one because he’s also best friends with mad science. This is gonna be a fun one.)

Dark Alley

Ethan is in a dark alley when he comes against three thugs.

Thug 1: Hey kid gimme your money!

Ethan: I don't have any.

Thug 2: What did we say!

(Thug 1: Fool, you didn’t say nothing.

Thug 2: Bro, I know that, all right? We been over this. I’m just tryna establish a “united front.” Like, your words are all our words, and shit. Businessmen in, like, Japan and shit do it all the time.

Thug 1: We ain’t in Japan, neither. Quit fucking around.

Thug 2: Bro... Bro... holy shit. I know we ain’t in Japan, alright? I ain’t a moron, or nothing.

Ethan: Should I just leave you guys alone, or something?)

Thug 3: I think this kid needs to be taught a lesson.

Scarlet Spider: Get away from my friend!

Thug 1: The Scarlet Spider.

(Scarlet Spider: People’re usually a bit more surprised when I sneak up on them.

Thug 1: We’re nameless thugs in a fanfiction. This was pretty much a guarantee.

Thug 2: Hey, Spider-bro. It’s all good. Maybe we could exchange business cards’re something. You know, businessmen in Japan...)

The Scarlet Spider beats up the bad guys.

They get up and run away. Scarlet Spider: Stay here Ethan I'm gonna take out the trash!

Ethan: Go take them punks out!

Classroom – Daytime

Ethan Masters, a 15 year old African American Male is sitting in class asleep (dreaming) when his teacher calls him. (Well, it’s good that we have the barest description of the character in the scene after he’s been introduced. Also, what’s he dreaming about? I choose to believe he’s having the “I have to go to the bathroom, but there don’t seem to be any in this building” dream.)

Teacher: MR MASTERS!

Ethan (Groggy): What, huh?

Teacher: WAKE UP!

Ethan (Groggy): I'm not sleep.

(Teacher: WELL GOOD! I’D HATE FOR THIS CLASS TO BE BORING FOR YOU!

Ethan: Man, do you have to yell like that all the time?

Teacher: WHAT? OH, SORRY! I JUST TEND TO GET REALLY EXCITED ABOUT TEACHING! *clears throat* Now, then...)

Teacher: What's the answer to number 3.

Ethan: Um 17!

Teacher: That might be right but we're in history class.

(Ethan: No, that’s what I mean. UM ‘17. The Utrechtmarkt of 1717. You know, Dutch East India Company and all that.

Teacher: Oh... well... Good job, Mr. Masters. You managed to remember a thing.)

The class laughs at him. The bell rings. And they leave. _______________________________________________________

Hallway – Daytime

Ethan is walking thorough the hallway as his girlfriend Lenina a 16 year old African American Female comes thorough the hallway and sneaks up on him.

Lenina: Hey baby.

Ethan kisses Lenina and begins to grab her butt.

Lenina: Not here baby.

Ethan gets off.

(Lenina: *recoils* Ugh, Ethan! I said not here! You and your stupid hair-trigger...)

Ethan: Sorry. What's up baby?

Lenina: We goin to the movies tonight.

Ethan: I can't.

Lenina: Why not?

Ethan: I gotta go over to Doc Samson's lab tonight.

Lenina: Again. You've been goin over there all week.

Ethan: But today the Doc's ready to test the Neogenic Recombinator. I gotta be there to see it. We've workedreally hard on this.

(Lenina: Oh, right. Pardon me. I was just offering boring old action flicks and some hot over-the-pants rubdown action when we made out in the car. I should have known that I couldn’t compete with a teenage boy and the siren call of cutting edge genetic engineering. 

Ethan: Don’t feel bad, baby. I still like over the pants rubdowns. It’s just, we can do that any old day, and we often do. How many opportunities does a guy get to stand on the threshold of God’s domain and drop a flaming bag of dog crap on the porch?)

Ethan goes over to his locker and opens it up showing pictures of Spiderman and even more of the Scarlet Spider.

Lenina: I could see idolizing Spiderman but that other guy. (Actually, now that I think about it, isn’t it a bit weird you only have pictures of muscly men in skintight spandex bodysuits in your locker, that you fawn over constantly?)

Ethan: The Scarlet Spider was bangin girl! You don't know what you're talkin about. He busted up bad guys better in the short time he was a round than Spidey ever did. And if Philly had a hero I wish it had been him.

Lenina: Whatever. I got to get to the bus on time so I'll see you later.

They kiss and they go their separate ways.

_______________________________________________________

Doc Samson's Lab – Daytime

Ethan walks in Doc Samson's lab and puts his equipment on.

Samson: Ethan I've got the recombinator up and online.

Ethan: Great. (Glad to know you’re able to run the machine that allows you to do your job, Doc. I was worried we were just gonna be staring at the thing all day, without plugging it in.)

Ethan goes over to Freddie, Doc Samson's pet, genetically engineered Spider.

Ethan: Hey Freddie.

He puts his hand in the cage and the spider bites him.

Ethan: OUCH! Your tarantula bit me.

(Samson: Well, why did you put your hand in the cage? It’s a spider, not a puppy.)

Samson: It's not just a tarantula, it's been spliced between a water spider, a tarantula, and a black widow. I devenomized him he won't poison you. (I also gave him racing stripes and the ability to whistle. I’ve created a mockery of natural design, and God save me, I don’t ever want to stop!)

Ethan: Good let's fire this baby up!

Samson: Okay we're gonna do some genetic crossing like I did with Freddie there. (I’m thinking today, we’re gonna combine a dog with a fish. I’mma call it a dosh!) Once we activate it.

Ethan: Cool.

Samson: Let's prepare for a test run!

Doc. Samson turns it on and the beam fires up.

Ethan (Raising his voice over the noise of the beam): Got a good flow.

Samson (Raising his voice over the noise of the beam): Yeah nice and smooth!

The Recomnbinator begins to overload.

Ethan (Fearful): It's overloading!

(Samson (over the noise of the beam): What? I can’t hear you! Did you say it’s overloa-)

The blasts come toward them.

Samson: GET DOWN! I'm gonna get the reflector.

Ethan is down while Doc. Samson gets the reflector. (The reflector was actually an umbrella, made of aluminum foil, but the Doc really seemed to get a kick out of using it.)

A beam goes toward Doc. Samson but he reflects it and hits Freddie then the same beam hits Ethan. Ethan springs to his feet. He tries to turn the Recombinator off. But it continues to overload.

Samson: It's to late get out while you still can!

Ethan: But Doc. (We can still save it. I mean, you wouldn’t be so stupid as to design a machine that deals with this much energy and not give it an emergency shutoff or some other safety feature, right?

A heavy, awkward silence fills the room, punctuated only by the chaotic rumbling of the Recombinator.)

Samson: GET OUT!

The room begins to explode and Ethan jumps out of the nearby window and lands on the ground running as fast as he can from the scene.

(Doc Samson stares at his machine, watching the arc of electrical shorts as they run along its surface, and opens up his reflector umbrella.

Samson: This is gonna suck, Freddie. You know what to do.

Freddie: *whistles the ending credits theme to the Incredible Hulk 1970s TV show*

Samson: *tears up* Good boy... good boy.)

Streets – Daytime

Ethan is running down the street as Police and Paramedics and firemen pull up and assess the situation putting the fires out etc. Police questions him as he returns to the front of the building. After a tough session he goes home.

Ethan's House – Daytime

Ethan's parents are watching the report of the science building exploding worrying about Ethan as he comes in. They hug him.

Mom: We thought you were dead.

Dad: We were so worried about you (I mean, not worried enough to go check it out, but...)

Mom: Are you okay?

Ethan: Yeah I'm fine I just want to go and rest. Mom: Okay honey take all the time you need.

(Ethan: Really? So, I could, like, get out of going to school tomorrow?

Mom: Yeah, not even a good try, kid.

Ethan: Crud)

Ethan: Thanks.

Ethan's Room - Nighttime

Ethan is in his room talking to himself.

Ethan: Man I almost didn't get outta there today good thing I jumped from the window. But it was on the top floor, how did I survive. I don't care I'm just glad I did. (Yeah, it doesn’t matter that my mentor’s probably dead and that I got out of an exploding building unscathed. I wonder if there’s still time to take Lenina up on that date...)

Ethan hears pots landing on the floor startled he jumps to the ceiling and sticks to it. He looks down.

(Ethan: Wait a minute... pots? In my bedroom? Pots don’t belong in my bedroom. And neither does this stove. Or this refrigerator. Also, I appear to be hanging from the ceiling.)

Ethan: What the hell's happening to me.

[tales954]

It’s been almost two months

I’ve lived here for nearly 8 weeks. It’s been a lot of self discovery honestly. I’m building a business from the ground up and it’s exhausting and mentally draining. I’ve had 3 shoots since I’ve moved in though so that’s not horrible. I’m just constantly trying to fight of the urge of feeling like a failure. But I’m not. It’s just a lot of emotions. I miss my girls. I miss my family. But my life here is wonderful. I get to fall asleep each night to the love of my life laying next to me. So it’s worth it. And I’ll get there with business. It takes time. And I’ve got nothing but time 💕

AND SPEAKING OF TIME... I think it’s because I’m not nannying anymore and spending every waking minute with babies and toddlers, but holy crap I’m baby crazy. We’ve talked timeline before of marriage/ kids but recently for him it jumped a few years. As of a month ago it was “oh I don’t want kids before 28” and now it’s “we could have a toddler in three years” mind you were 23 now😳 and he’s right. We could. If we got married in 2020 like planned and start trying soon after I could have two kids by the time I’m 30. It’s crazy to think about and I love daydreaming about what our life could look like in a year or 5.

And then there’s gramps... Brian’s grandpa lives with us. He’s an alcoholic pos who is miserable and runs on spite and cheap whisky. He’s a manipulative liar who’s using Brian and his dad to bend to his every whim. And they hate it. Yet they still oblige. For example: gramps requires 4 handles of Canadian whisky a month (yes. That’s right. He goes through a HANDLE A WEEK. Not a fifth. A handle.) to keep from essentially going into withdrawals. Instead of saying “oh wow that’s awful I’m not going to support that because that’s suuuuuper not good” Brian’s mom goes to the naval base where alcohol is far cheaper and buys him his booze for the month. And then bitterly complains about his drinking habits. Now look I’m not saying they should do a complete 180 but maybe if they didn’t start this relationship by giving the whining toddler a cookie so to speak we wouldn’t be in this mess... but I digress. Because he’s miserable and has a body so incapable of life even cancer can’t live in him (that’s a whole different story whoooo buddy) he needs 3 two hour naps a day. Yes. 6 hours of sleep a day. And then parties all night when Brian needs to be up at 4 for a very physically demanding job... but anyway. There’s about a million house projects that need to be done. I’m talking walls torn down, stairs moved, carpet torn out, bathrooms remodeled, and every freaking room painted. But we can’t do that because if we make more than 3 decibels of noise during the day (ya know, normal waking hours) we get bitched at for making noise IN OUR OWN DANG HOUSE. it is not his house. It has never been his house. And yet he pays a cable bill and thinks he’s entitled to rule the roost. I’m rambling again but he really pisses me off. Anyway I have a laundry list of things that I need to get started on and can’t do that until he leaves for the bar at 1 pm every day. But I’m excited to start in on that list and make this house our home. The place where we’re going to raise our kids. And pick apples in the fall from the apple tree along the side of the house and pick strawberries in the summer. And the place where we’re going to put toys on the back deck and put a playroom upstairs where we’ll spend hours upon hours in living and creating memories for our kids. Besides Gramps, life is a dream and I wouldn’t trade any of it and I’m so excited for what’s to come today, tomorrow and forever 💕

[savedbyloveforgivenbygrace]

* BREAK A LEG

PROVERBS 3:8 Then, you will have healing for your body & strength for your bones. 👣

Its been 2months since I had my accident last Feb. 10, 2017. It started when.. I travel every morning before the sun rises(between 4:45 or 5am because my work starts 6am, though sometimes I’m still late.) I rode a jeep here in divisoria (divi-cubao) and I rode again at Seattle a jeep tracking Philcoa and went down at National Kidney Transplant Institute – NKTI (where I’m working as a trainee/extern). I always pray wherever I am.

The night before, I’ve got a bad feeling wearing my cloth that has a print of “Life’s a bitch”, I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t wear it. And I heard something inside my head sayin’ “Wear your other shirt, not that one.”, but I just annoyed what I’ve heard. The next morning, feb. 10, 2017 I went out the house at 5:15am (it’s very late) so I travelled, while in the jeepney, I pray and pray because I remember my dream also that I got an accident (Yea, it happened I didn’t tell anybody up until now.) I can’t explain why am I not feeling alright or what so I call my boyfriend. I wore my headset and talked to him while journeying. We’ve talked until I saw the I’m nearly going down the jeepney. I told the jeepney driver “Kuya, sa may pedestrian lang po.” (Gate1 of QC cityhall) and also to my boyfriend I told him “Wait lang babe, maya na tayo usap. Tatawid lang ako.” I went down on the pedestrian lane, & removed the headset on my left ear and look left and right, I saw the vehicles were far so I crossed the lane but then..

I was surprised when I was lying down on the ground and saw some medics and police traffic enforcer, and guards. I opened my eyes and its kinda blurry first then I asked the medic guy.. “Kuya anong nangyari?” (It was like I awaken from a dream or is it a dream, is it real?) and he said “Nasagasaan ka.” I was astonished! I touched my face and look at my hand and there was blood! and told kuya again “Tulungan mo ko kuya.” and he said, “Oo wag ka mag-alala, wag kang gagalaw.” Then I looked on my right leg and saw it’s bended. I tried to straight it but he said again “Wag mong gagalawin, nabalian ka.” When I saw the blood on my hands I felt a little panicked attack in my heart and no pain below but when he said that I got a fractured bone that’s the only time I felt so much pain and told him again “Kuya, tulungan mo ko! please! I cried so hard and very loud because it’s very painful. (That’s the time I remember when someone told me “Do not wear that shirt” – it was God telling me and reminding me. I guess it’s also my fault.) Then, they put me on the stretcher and in the ambulance yet it was very hard to me because whenever they touched my leg I really felt the pain, its like killing me! The medic guy and girl asked my name and I just said to do them to get my PRC License in my bag. The they asked me where will I go & told them I have a duty in NKTI (actually the accident happened infront of the main gate of NKTI, just one cross again and there is the gate!) So they asked me to call one of my co-worker there. So I called my BEST FRIEND *RAM* then the ambulance waited infront of the hospital and he came and also they told me to call my mother I called her and I said “Kuya, ikaw na po kumausap.”, so he was the one had conversation with my mom.

They brought me in East Avenue Medical Center –EAMC (it was my hospital when I was in fourth year as a medtech student, there I had my internship training) they put me again on another stretcher another torture! to make it short, Ram got my phone and call anyone whom he can call. Then there was Dr. Narvaez (an orthopaedic doctor), he asked lots of question my name and the thing happened to me then he said “Micah sige, iuunat ko yung leg mo ha.” Me: I got big eyes and yelled “Wag doc! Masakit po!” Dr. Narvaez: “Hindi pwede kase kelangan, maiunat yan ha. Dahan-dahanin ko lang.” So he gently stretched my bended leg and I was yelling aloud and the whole ER patients and hospital personnel was looking at me in short “Im the center of attraction!” It was very very very very 100x painful or not just 100x, a zillion times. Imagine it, Stretching your fractured leg! Aaaaawww. Then they put a gallon and tied around my foot. So the water gallon will pull my bone inside. (My femur bone.)

Just a wrapped Up!!! I had ct scan, xray and other lab test(s). I’m very happy because only my fractured bone was the problem & no other injuries inside. Only abrasion on my face and arms including my broken tooth (its still painful up until now, if you have some dentist friend can you ask them what to do to my tooth. See the picture). I had my operation Feb. 17, 2017. 11am-3pm. The titanium placed outside because my bone canal measures like a baby’s bone canal (my doctor said) so my steel inside was just a support so I need to wait for 10weeks to start my therapy. My last checkup said that it has a callus formation. YEY! THANK GOD. ❤ Its a GOOD SIGN!!!! 😊😊😊 * Callus – Mass of exudate and connective tissue that forms around a break in a bone and is converted into bone in healing.

Im very blessed because I stayed in the hospital for two weeks. (And thankful for the persons who visited me in the hospital. My family, Papa, Mama, Ate Joy, Ejboy, my love jeff [who also was there whenever his off] my bestfriend(s) Ram and Dhez, my ninang emily, tito and tita esp. Tita Josie, cousins, NKTI friends/staffs/Heads/chief medtech, my old staffs in EAMC, my medtech friends and classmates (Salamat sainio ang kakalog nio. Hihihi) and mostly the Lord God Almighty [always and forever.) Also to persons who didn’t made their presence when I was in the hospital but reached me through chat and text, thank you guys! ❤ i love you all.

I pray that God will continue to guide my life, all the days of my life. I pray also that He will help me in my therapy so that I can walk again. Thank you Lord, Declaring Victory. Also, may God bless also the one who made me like this and never again to happen to him (& to me), Amen. Thanks for taking time to read. God is Good. All Glory to Him. I shared this because I’m ready to face another journey (when I goy my complete healing.) 🙏☝ ✍God loves us. 😍