#Also yes dick in german just means fat

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

“this is boris, so-and-so‘s brother. He can’t do magic and he’s fat.“

[hausofmamadas]

I have no idea why tf, or for what tf, or who tf I even wrote this for besides it came to me and I don’t know what else to do with it but share bc like I think it’s kinda funny and like gifs. So, yeah, here’s a thing sksksksks a drabble? as the real fanfic writers say??

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| Only good for a good time |

Character/Pairing: Isabella Bautista (heavily implied Isabella Bautista x Enedina Arellano Félix)

Word count: smol ~850

✷ TWs: the general stupidity of men none ✷

⁂

Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right? If Isabella Bautista had like a lifestyle guru blog or a Wordpress diary or was like some kind of YouTube vlogger and/or Instagram influencer or god forbid, had a Tumblr, I feel like this would be an entry?? Regardless of the exact avenue, she is out here, screaming into the void of the internet about how her almost bestie and the rest of the world did her so beyond dirty and questioning what it means to be so damn sexy all the time. (You think I'm joking ... I promise you, this might actually be that shallow.)

⁂

It was almost like every breakup I’d ever had. A pat on the ass, a “thanks for your time” and “be on your way.” Actually it was worse, because none of the dirtbags I ever dated had left a check to add insult to injury. Another thing this one had that those breakups didn’t? The worst part? The absolute and complete cherry on top of this shit sundae?

I didn’t. fucking. see it. coming.

In hindsight, I probably should have. I’d never worked with another woman before, so I kinda just chalked it up to that. Less dicks and egos to dance around and deal with. But if I think about it now, there were always three operating in the background, after hours, and things were going too well, working too smoothly, had too few headaches, too few fires to put out. That should’ve tipped me off. Because life is never so kind. I mean, they say you can’t have it all, right? I never used to believe that but I’m beginning to. Because a pretty face, dirt poor from Culiacan, can only possibly be good for one thing, right?

And yeah, I do like to have a good time, if your idea of a good time is watching endless reruns of El Derecho de Nacer with a seventy pound German shepherd, drooling, half-asleep in your lap. I guess I don't mind dancing either, but that always depends on the company you're with. (If you're ever in Colombia, I've got a number for este chulito viejito who ruined dancing for me because it's just not the same without him ...

... he made that much of an impression.) But people are always projecting things onto me based on my looks. Which isn’t actually my problem … but is still somehow my problem.

So, it’s a question I ask myself often. Is it worth it to be beautiful? And now, don’t even start because I already know what you’re thinking like qué debo ser tan loca, sí? Oh poor linda, bonita, chulita, fresita. How life must be so terrible and hard for you. Cry me a river, pendeja. Ya cállate alashingada pues and smile.

And look, I get it. It sounds nuts to be asking that question porque por supuesto que sí, que ser linda, lo vale la pena.

And you’re right. The answer to that question is "yes" ... in some ways. I mean, sure, it may have gotten me out of a ticket, paying a fine or two. And well, yeah, actually come to think of it, I’ve never paid for a drink in my life.

It’s also part of, but definitely not all (not even close) of what got me out of Sinaloa and onto bigger things. Tijuana, Colombia, beyond.

Because people are nicer to you if you’re pretty. They tend to give you things when you ask (for the right ones) nicely.

But (and there’s always one of those) when I replay every single leer, every joke some sleazeball cracked about how “Colombians love a girl with a fat ass,” every pair of hungry, beady eyes behind sunglasses slid down the bridges of their noses. When I replay all of that? Yeah. I wish wasn’t. Or at least, not in the way I am.

See, because as much as I admire and respect her, the most annoying thing about Di— scratch that. One of the most annoying things about Dina is that she’s beautiful too. Noticeably so. I mean hey, I certainly noticed. Hell, I wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity had we not been in business together. He probably thinks he taught me so much, but Miguel was right about one thing: business in lust or love is a Bad Idea. (Well that, aaaand had she not been so busy making eyes at that Snack of a sicario working for them, whose name I can never remember.)

(And really …. I can't blame her.)

(… Or him, for that matter.)

So yeah, she’s beautiful. And yet, still, somehow people always seem to take her seriously. And okay yes, she’s someone who does naturally command respect, sure. But hey! Newsflash! We’re not that fucking different!

How do you think we worked together so well in the first place?

I guess, maybe it’s that she’s beautiful in a way that’s honest and doesn’t make too much noise. Frankly, for the longest time, I always thought it was because of how she dressed, like in those unflattering, oversized tiger sweaters. And good god, that 80-year-old librarian’s polka-dotted suit jacket, the one that made her look like a kooky preschool teacher …

If preschool teachers came customized with a mouth that savage. (I don’t think they do.)

But that theory went right out the window. Because when I did that, no matter how hard I tried to make myself look hard, they still all saw the same thing. One Thing. (Except the One Person I might’ve actually wanted to see the One Thing. Then again, what’s that saying? Don’t shit where you eat? As I said, bad for business. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I should’ve thrown caution to the wind since the whole thing went to shit anyway. Oh well. Así es la vida.)

Oh, I’m not even gonna bother spelling it out for you. Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. And you do already know what it is. Because it’s the One Thing you see too, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t it what you all came for in the first place?

[imadudeenaugustsarvahusayn]

140) 2014

Only by this. But I'm sure I won't meet Ms. Rowling.

All that remains is that 2017 Reddit moment.

Onwards. ±54.

I'm the left of the screen one. But, yes Poland is for rest. US Countryside is like a good place to visit too at times. I'm more in the US rather Mehico but want to visit ABQ. Thérèse, hard compound tires. I already did my part with South. For adrenaline, or Polish ladies you have a thing or two? I don't know, I don't know everything.

Balkan visit too, İstanbul.

But anyway, I'm not coming, but receiving now sexually. Got no bedding whilst it's fame outside. Inside is one last ride. 🇮🇩.

From my notes📝, ehm, since I have only 3 that would me enough☯️🏡. Ola(Invert), Michelle(Jugs, Aryan jugs), Elif(Turkish Baroque Japanese house). İclal too if we meet.

Even until ±54, 2054. I only need 3 of them. I'm half empty. Ola, I will not go to Sonia or else before my body language is healthy. Also beside so Poles uncle inside, the world is really bigger than me, whatever I'm this and that. And 2023-±2054 will not enough. I just wanted satisfaction which is align with my taste when the Svastika rotare.

Amber Bain, Maya, also not ordinary, It's I need to restore body language. Can't get it to A+ List celeb world for now, my body language.

My childhood is a society, that if you ask questions in the classroom is like wall-street trading.

From notes📝,

Poland, Ola makes me want to, I mean it's enough, who doesn't like to mend w/ it's invert at least for me. Imagining it is so good. Good Lord.

Russia, if girl is beautiful it is so beautiful. But if it's ugly, then it's like construction worker that formed like aunties. No middle ground ever.

Eastern Europe, base operative 😬, once Sarajevo in my note.

Is there any hijabi MENA-Levant-Edirne-Iranian girls that not fat? Mostly that ubiquitous that isn't. I have this thing with with. But it goes both ways.

Hungary, Architecture Revival Roger Scrutopia.

Peaceful Ukraine.

UK, lips surgery, black armpits, Banter.

French, SJWs & angry forever like Beşiktaş. Except Countryside, it's like opposite of US one. French girls is like selected ones it seems, the Chevalier ones, real deal French.

German, Bavarian area only. I'm Orient but, you know the rest. Swiss Alps, with Bavarian girls.

Oceania, if I back South, Alycia Debicki New Lorde.

Irish, Saoirse whilst Hayley visit it too might be, but that's for A+ List kinda thing, I'm half empty guy.

Scottish Highlands, Irish is like reminiscing in high cliffs along the shore hearing the echoes of the waves, whilst dancing in warmth of hospitality in its pub, Scots is highlands, its reverbs sound, Freeedooom!, is shouting in the hills with its reverbs accompanied with rivers in the horizon, it can be as heard the echoes of moaning in PG ratings wit the gals inside a hut in the mountains.

Iceland & Scandinavian, I like cold weather. Only know the girls are blonde. And Vikings, ehm I like to be dominated.

Ehm, domina, back at it again, Scottish Highlands & US Countryside, if one day it is happening, I visualize myself hearing moaning of the girls echoes in Scotland highlands & in campsite of US countryside with its swamps & accompanied by raven sounds, when it's not near the, as I roam in.

Netherland of course, 3/8±. Dicks out for Harambe Dick Winters.

Architecture; Alhambra & Samarkand.

Also, I will stamp your chest w/ numbers📸 & save it. I like to, I have fetish of it. Imagine 1 Google Photos folder with lots of number stamps in the beautiful.

Now I'm rest, hope one day I don't need to being stomped per usual to feel it normal. At least I'm not being punched for being walking anymore. I'm professional in jerking off.

I have peace & able to jerk off. What I need now is no more painting Body Paint mo more. Then maybe I able to find job. My apartment girls not DTF. But I found out recently, I'm not too. Not White Girls.

Alright thats my 10s🇹🇷🇩🇪🇬🇧 with 00s too that there's nothing in it. And that you all know, I make moves 🗺️.

Also I don't even know how to fuck, really. I want to learn but there's always barrier, beside there's no girls for it. I can't even drive a car.

my awesome movie list of 2014:

birdman (dir. alejandro gonzález iñárritu)

the imitation game (dir. morten tyldum)

whiplash (dir. damien chazelle)

interstellar (dir. christopher nolan)

gone girl (dir. ben affleck)

foxcatcher (dir. bennet miller)

wild (dir. jean-marc vallée)

inherent vice (dir. paul thomas anderson)

the theory of everything (dir. james marsh)

the hobbit (dir. peter jackson)

i origins (dir. mike cahill)

the grand budapest hotel (dir. wes anderson)

boyhood (dir. richard linklater)

nightcrawler (dir. dan gilroy)

[annarendellsa]

my heathers headcanons

it's the way i see them and draw them, you don't have to agree! this is based on both the musical and the movie

CW: mention of suic*de and e*ting disorders (bulimia) as well as various mental illnesses

Heather Duke

• heather duke is aromantic and yes its because she wears green, have you seen her socks in the off broadway musical? /hj

• more seriously, she IS aromantic but it took some time for her to figure out. she is allo but she doesn't label her sexuality, and she was always confused and frustrated to experience sexual attraction but never romantic attraction; she had a hard time accepting this part of herself.

• post heathers: maybe she discovers about non binary identities and asks her girlfriends to test out they/them pronouns on her? idk? aro-agender duke?

• she also struggles with empathy as she is naturally apathic

• and she's putting this image of a cold mean girl because she believes she can only be that given she's aro and ND

• post musical: she had no idea mcnamara actually tried to commit suic*de and when veronica tells her she breaks down in tears and spend a few days writing an apology letter to mcnamara

• post musical: mcnamara helps her to develop her compassion, knowing it's not her fault she's incapable of empathy. she didn't have to forgive her, but they did, and it really motivates duke to become a better person and be as nice as her

• post musical: she sees a doctor! she eventually recovers from her bulimia. veronica and mac are 100% supportive of her recovery, and very proud

• she gets bigger as part of her recovery and learns to embrace it

• duke is very pale with really dark and thick hair and eyebrows, soft features and quite a lot of body hair

• you know the bootleg where duke has blonde hair? when she's on the tv she speaks german and i vibe with german duke now

• duke Cannot say fuck and if someone is prude/innocent/idk it's her. the why are you pulling my dick was just to fluster veronica i think

Heather McNamara

• they use she/they pronouns!! just because. she still identifies as a girl though

• mac is autistic of course, it's like semi canon in the musical

• since she's very tall (movie) she stims while standing like being on the tip of her toes or rocking back and forth and the others can be quite annoyed because she moves a lot but they never snap at her

• post musical: veronica finds her stimming endearing and they know it's safe to stim around her, especially since veronica stims herself

• post musical: mac hums as a stim too and you can often find macnamawyer snuggling on the floor while humming in harmonies together

• she used to mask a LOT and it played a big part in her depression. she knows they had to stop themselves from stimming when she was a heather, she had been the weird kid in middle school but now that chandler took her under her wing, she has to pretend to be NT in order to stay in the lifeboat (😭)

• she's a lesbian!! of course she is

• she knows it since she is in middle school and has been """gal pals"""" with chandler since them but she still struggles with it she has comphet yk, but still less than chandler

• chanamara definitely practiced kissing together "to be ready when we'll have to kiss boys" 👀👀👀

• chandler always had a soft spot for mac and tried to hide it by being cruel to duke

• post musical: it took mac some time to understand that duke had nothing against her personally. she was chill with them until chandler died. from that moment she had to prove herself as the new queen bee and mac was a collateral victim

• duke definetely gave her trauma though and mac is in the process of trusting her again

• mac themselves is not a cinnamon roll just yet and she still has to make up for what they've done to others

• mcnamara has nicknames like mcNcheese or macaroni (veronica came up with those)

• they're also a vegetarian and she loves yellow food

• like she ever only eats yellow food actually (autistic thing). that girl is deficient! part of why she looks that fragile and thin

• also i see mcnamara as mixed race with golden/light brown skin and they have this type of curly curly hair but she straightens it all the time so it's only just wavy (once again, to blend in with the heathers)

• her natural hair colour is actually a dark strawberry blonde? her dad is irish and he's a redhead that's why (stole this from @cam-eats-candles hehe) but she dyes it so it's lighter

• post musical: she starts wearing her natural hair!! and goes with her mom to the afro hairdresser to start to get her curls done right (cornrows mac!!)

• their parents divorced (movie) and it's for the best. mac has daddy issues and only goes to her dad to get cute jewellery for their girlfriends 💖 (he doesn't just sell engagement rings. a lot of regular expensive rings, really)

• she's not a baby, she's not weak nor completely innocent and pure!! the girl is a head cheerleader, she's strong and flexible as hell.

Heather Chandler

• heather chandler is Also a lesbian BUT she is on the ace spectrum like demisexual? so yeah she's double disgusted when she "sleeps" with men

• as a queen bee she's also convinced that the only way to exist is through male validation :(

• chandler is taller than duke and veronica but shorter than mac

• chandler's skin is like rosy and it freckles very easily. i see her with the same cloudylike hair she has in the movie, dark blonde, with the red scrunchie only holding back some of her hair

• she is Buff and is genuinely into sports (lesbian jock like regina george)

• she has a sharp hourglass shape her shoulders are broad and her legs long and strong. she could lift veronica against a wall easily. and she did

Veronica Sawyer

• ADHD!! she's been diagnosed for a while but only became medicated post musical

• bisexual!! so bisexual!! without a preference. she's always been open and proud about it and her parents are supportive

• for me veronica is brown, with thick and dark hair and dark brown eyes, midsize, average height

Martha Dunnstock

• that's canon i know, but she's fat, and not the socially acceptable-hourglass kind of fat. big arms! big tummy! double chin! (i see fanart of her just being chubby quite often and it's ANNOYING like that's a big part of her character)

• she's perfectly healthy like this as are many fat people :))

• i also like the hc that her attempt at sewer slide made her permanently disabled and that she keeps using a wheelchair! because it happens, it's important to show it, and it gives me a lot of ideas for cute kindergarten girlfriends prompts 💓💓

• of course realistically being fat AND physically disabled in the 80's was and is not an easy thing to go through but it's in my head so

• she's also a tiny bit taller than veronica

• i don't hate the outfit she wears in the off broadway show, but I like her west end outfit better!! it's a lot more 80's inspired and i totally see her in kidcore/clowncore etc, even if pastels are cool too

• in the current west end version, martha is played by a black woman and she looks amazing! however I've been drawing and imagining martha as east/south east asian, for no reason really?? also idk kinda rubs me the wrong way that in the more official versions of heathers it's always duke that is black, or martha? not the others? hmm

• i'm not comfortable with hcs that exclusively babyfy her or patronise her like a bunny rabbit just bc she's a fat outcast who likes unicorns!! she's not just cute and giggly! martha can and does swear and she Fucks, like mcnamara

• big round glasses + big nose + long brown hair

• taking inspiration from the princess bride line but she's a huge movie nerd. yes she loves happy endings but she also loves horror movies, as long as they have a happy ending

• she never gets a makeover omg y'all just hate people with glasses and a childish aesthetic istg

• she takes this aesthetic further though and

• post musical and high school: she doesn't just wear baggy clothes anymore as she only did that to prevent more bullying. she develops an unique style with a lot of pink and glitter and she's awesome

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ok this is getting long ill probably do more!! tell me what you think <3

[henrycavillisbae]

Home

Summary: Logan ‘Sy’ Syverson, returns from his deployment. Maddy is 29 weeks pregnant with their first child, a girl, conceived the night before Sy was deployed. Sy hasn’t seen Maddy or the bump in person and to say he's excited is an understatement. Written in first person.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x ofc (Maddy Syverson)

Warnings: SMUT! Oral, slight MaleDom/FemSub, Pregnancy Sex, Bad Language, bodily fluids and fluff.

A/N: Hey guys! New around here (not really just been lurking in the background) Hope you enjoy this one shot. Got the name ‘Logan’ for Sy from @littlefreya. For the record I am English and this is set in a America soooo... Also, this is unedited and I'm slightly nervous!

I plodded towards the wardrobe and grabbed one of Sy's tshirts before pulling it over my head. It's one of the only things I can tolerate in this Texan heat and being pregnant. I then waddled downstairs to get some breakfast.

I groaned as a rolled my pregnant self over to climb out of bed. This baby makes me need to wee all the time. A second groan left my lips as I stood up and plodded towards the ensuite to relieve myself. Washing my hands I looked at myself in the mirror, my hair resembled a birds nest. I quickly brushed my hair and teeth before making my way back to the bedroom.

I was greeted by Kal waiting for me by his bowl obviously after his breakfast.

"Okay Bear, I'll feed you" I said leaning down and stroking him, "your daddy is home today and Aika will be in a few days" he waged his tail to this obviously hearing the words 'daddy' and 'Aika'. Kal is an Akita who stays with me while Sy is on deployment, Aika is a German Sheppard that goes on deployment with Sy. This is their last deployment as Aika is retiring and Sy is moving to fire arms training. We found out I was pregnant just after he left for Iraq and as soon as he found out he was on the phone to his boss requested to move. I grabbed Kal's meat and scraped it into his bowl. I opened the door to let Kal out after he'd eaten. He quickly rain outside to do his business after he'd eaten. By then I had made a coffee and some toast and was sat on the sofa. As I was eating my breakfast the baby started to wiggle.

"Well good morning to you" I said rubbing my tummy, Kal running in and rested his head on my tummy, “You’ll finally meet your daddy today dot, and I need ti take you out in a bit Kal” I stroked Kal’s head before he got excited and bounced around. Laughed at him as I checked the time in my phone, 08:43. Sy’s plane landed at 12:03 so I had time to take Kal out quickly and get ready to drive to the airport.

After eating my breakfast I grabbed a pair of shorts and slipped my bra on underneath Sy’s Iron Maiden t-shit. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before shoving my phone in the back pocked of my shorts. Kal was already waiting for me by the door with his lead in his mouth.

“Alright boy, I’m coming” I called to him as I slipped my low top converse onto my slightly swollen feet. I clipped Kal’s lead to his collar and shoved my sunglasses on as I left the house. We walked towards the dog walking park near our house. We haven’t had any rain in a while so the grass resembled straw, tornado season had been and gone and summer was definitely here. Kal was already hot so we wont be having a long walk. In the summer the dogs get walked morning and evening. Kal ran round for 10 minutes or so before he decided he was too hot and wanted to go home.

By the time we reached home it was 10:15. My neighbour Hallie was taking her trash out.

“Morning Maddy” she called over the white picket post fence.

“Hey Hallie” I shouted waving back

“Sy’s back today isn’t he” she asked, I nodded in reponse “I bet you cant wait”

“I really can’t” I replied as I unlocked our large oak door, “I’m looking forward to soneone to help me put my shoes on. Thats becoming difficult” ‘I also need sex’ I thought to myself. I laughed slighty, we had sex a lot. By a lot a mean daily, sometimes maybe 2 or 3 times a day. Yup, I need sex.

“How loge do you have left” Hallie asked referring to my pregnancy.

“Around 12 weeks, Sy is having 6 months off before starting his new role in fire arms trainging, so that will be nice” I said resting my hand on my bump.

“Oh gosh” Hallie exclaimed, “Well look after yourself, we’ll have to all get together for a BBQ when Sy is back and settled”

“Yes we must, see you soon Hallie” I called waving to her as I walked into the house. I herd her shout bye back just as I was about to shut the front door. I unclipped Kal’s lead and he ran off to have a drink as I made my way upstairs to get ready.

I pulled out a floaty ditsy floral midi dress that was fitted at the top. The v shaped neckline and think straps accentuated my large swollen breasts. I laid it on the bed and quickly used the toilet before I sat at my dressing table. I decided to apply a light layer of make up, if I wore too much it woud just melt off of my face in this heat. I let my hair out of it’s top knot and ran my fingers through the curls to make it look presentable. I checked myself in the mirror, my blue eyes sparkled due to the brown eyeshadow I had applied. I applied a thick layer of lip gloss before getting up to get changed. 

I pulled off my tshirt and shorts and put on a white lacey thong and my white lacey maternity bra. I walked over to my full length mirror and took a picture of my bump in the mirror making sure the my breasts were obvious. I opened up Sy’s contact and attached the picture with the caption, ‘We can’t wait to see you daddy’. I sniggered before pressing send. Sy will see this before he see’s me and I know it will drive him mad. I pulled my dress on over my head before needing to rearrange it over my bump. I found my strappy wedges before sitting on the bed to put them on. Sy’ was a foot taller then me so I needed all the help I could get with my height. I then made my way downstirs again.

11:07

“SHOOT!” I shouted to myself. I rushed around and grabbed my bag throwing the food I had made for us in it along with the ‘Welcome home Daddy’ sign I had made which was rolled up,  my phone, purse and bottle of water. I grabbed the keys to our Ford Ranger and rushed out of the house. 

I arrived at the airport at 11:45. I managed to find a place close to the arrivals lounge to park. I spotted ‘Ocres’ girlfriend, Jaimie, sitting in the red chairs of the arrivals lounge. I waved and walked over to her.

“Maddy look at you!” she exclaimed standing up to give me a hug. I hugged her back before sitting down next to her, “How are you?” she asked after she had made herself comorftable.

“Fat and hot” I said laughing, “Still have 12 weeks to go roughly” I rubbed my bump slightly.

“You know, rumour has it that Sy said he would never stop being deployed. You must be a special person as he’s chaging his job role” Jaimie said as I grabbed my sub roll out of my bed to eat. I had made Sy his favourite pasta to eat on the way home. I took a bite and wiped sauce off of my lip before replying.

“And now look at me, fat and horny” I replied laughing, “Pregnancy hormones are no joke”

“Well I’m not surprised you’re married to Captain Big Dick, I’d miss that too” Jaimie said laughing. I had forgotten that’s what they called him. His nickname also didn’t lie. His cock stood proud at about 10 inches when erect, it had a good girth to it too. Thinking of his cock did not make my horniness any better. Jaimie and I sat talking until my phone buzzed. It was a message from Sy.

Don’t think they’ll be staying on for long when I get you home darlin, my cock is already desperate to be inside you.

Who says I’m still wearing them? I replied smirking. Jaimie and I made our way to the arrivals gate and I pulled out the rolled up sign as we waited for our men to appear.

We only waited 10 or so minutes before we saw some soilders arrive and their significant others run up to each other. Jaimie then saw Ocre and ran up to him. Ocre pulled her into his enbraced before kissing her. They then walked over to me hand in hand.

“Maddy” Ocre said greeting me, “Congratulations” he said pulling me into a hug. “Sy hasn’t shut up about you or the baby. Quite sweet really, slightly irritating but mainly sweet” I lauged at Ocres comment. I caughte a glimpse of Sy out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in his military gear which always made my knees go weak. As soon as he saw me he started to jog towards me, i jogged towards him and we met in an embrace where he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed me firmly,  with his hands on my ass, I felt the faimiliar flutter in my chest of his kisses.

“God I missed you Darlin,” He whispered to me in his thick Texan accent.

"I missed you to bear" I said kissing him again. He put me down and then nealt down and kissed my tummy.

"Hey there dot, hows my little princess doing in there?" He asked my tummy before kissing it again. She did a little wiggle and Sy's face lit up, "that's amazing" he gasped looking up to my. By now my eyes were starting to leak salty tears.

"She wriggles alot" I said as Sy stood up and pulled me into his chest.

"I love you Darlin'" he said wiping the tears away with his thumbs' "You look so beautiful carrying my daughter" he kissed me tenderly.

"I love you too bear" I whispered into he lips before kissing him again. He threw his bag back over his shoulder and held hand as me made our was over to Ocre and Jaimie.

"Miss Williams" Sy said greeting her, "you look well"

"Call me Jaimie Sy, I am well thank you" she replied greeting him back. We stood and chatted for a little while before we decided to head off.

"Right, I'm off to get laid" Sy announced making me laugh and blush at the same time, "Remember what I said Ocre, put a ring on it. It the best thing you'll ever do"

"Roger captain" he replied, "Oh and dont poke your daughter in the eye with that dick of yours" Si flipped him off as we walked off.

"He's only jealous of my big dick" he started laughing, "You made my trousers very uncomfortable earlier with that picture of yours.

"That was the idea Captain" I said to him smirking, "by the way I've made you your favourite meal to have on the way home"

"Thank you darlin', you're my favourite meal though" he replied smirking.

We arrived at the car and Sy chucked his bags in the back before we both climbed in. I grabbed the food out of my bag for Sy and passed it to him before shoving my bag in the foot well of the car. Sy unbuttoned his military shirt and took it off revealing the white tshirt underneath which he quickly untucked from his trousers.

The drive home took half an hour and you could feel the sexual tension in the car. Sy would glance across at my breasts and shift uncomfortably in his seat which in itself make my pussy tingle.

Whe we arrived by home I grabbed my back before walking up the drive to open the door. Sy soon followed with his bags. Kal barked and ran up to us as we walked through the door. He saw Sy and jumped up at him.

"Hey boy" he exclaimed as he dropped his bags in the hallway and made a fuss over him, "Did you miss me? I missed you too"

I opened the back door for Kal to go out.

"Come on Kal, toilet" I called, he left Sy and ran out into the garden. Sy walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me placing his hands on my bump. He kisses my neck as he pulled me close. I could feel his already hard cock through his trousers. I rubbed myself up against his crotch earning a groan from him. I turned around and kissed him passionately, his hands travelled to my ass and he massaged each ass cheek.

"I need you Maddy" he groaned into the kiss.

"I know Sy, me too" I moaned back. Kal ran back inside and Sy quickly locked the back door before picking up up the same way he did in the airport, which caused me to squeal and he carried me up the stairs.

He booted our bedroom door open then pushed it shut so we wouldn't get disturbed by Kal. He placed me down gently on the bed before he pulled his tshirt off and climbed between my legs. He hitched my dress up to above my bump. He placed lots of soft tender kisses over my tummy.

"Fuck Maddy, you're so beautiful" he groaned as he rubbed his crotch to relieve some of the built up pressure in there. He quickly pulled my dress off leaving me in just my lacey underwear. "These have grown" he growled as he massaged my tits. I moaned and quickly propped myself up on some pillows as I can't lie on my back for very long.

Sy leant down and kissed me hard, he deepened the kiss by darting his tongue in and out of my mouth. I groaned as he rubbed the outside of my thong with his thigh. His kisses made their way down my body and he stopped at just above the top of my thong. He swiftly removed my thong and kissed my mound. I groaned with pleasure. Sy slipped a finger into my cunt earning a moan from me. He harshly sucked on my clit causing me to gasp and moan. He slid another finger into me and started to finger fuck me quickly. He licked circles around my clit with brief sucks and nibbles that he knows drive me mad. I could already feel my release starting to build up. The familiar burn started in the bottom of my tummy, my legs started to quiver around Sy's head and my cunt started to clench on his fingers. Sy sensed this too as he picked up the pace with his fingers.

"Ohhhh fuuuuckk, Syyyyyyy" I moaned as I tumbled over the edge. I felt him smirk into my pussy as a moaned and convulsed under his touch. He finger fucked me until I came down from my high. He moved up me and kissed me. Our tongues fought for dominance, our teeth clashed in desperation of us wanting to feel complete again. Sy pulled away and rid me of shoes. He then stood at the end of the bed and stripped him self of his trousers, boxers and socks leaving him standing there naked. He'd gotten bigger since being away, obviously been working out more. His beautiful cock stood proud begging for attention so I shuffled down to the end of the bed and took it in my mouth.

"Arg Maddy" he groaned as I started to move my mouth up and down his cock. He laced his left hand through my hair and started to fuck my mouth. I gagged as his cock hit the back of my throat. I relaxed my throat to let Sy's cock down. I swallowed against his cock causing him to buck his hips and groan at the same time.

Suddenly Sy pulled away. He wiped away the dribble and precum from my chin. Before kissing me and pushing me back down on the best the best he could without putting pressure on my bump.

"I was about to cum Darlin', lord knows I need to paint your walls with my seed. 6 months is too long" he growled into my ear, "get on all fours" he ordered as he flipped me onto my front. He knelt on the bed and lined himself with my entrance. Slowly he pushed his throbbing cock into my pussy.

"Oh Sy" I gasped as his cock stretched my pussy walls. He stilled briefly as I got used to the size of him again, "Sy please, move" I begged.

"As you wish Darlin'" he quickly unclipped my bra which I threw to the floor, before he started to thrust in and out of me. "Ohhh Maddy, I've missed this pretty little cunt of yours" he groaned behind me.

Sy fucked me quick and hard. The same way that got me pregnant. The new sensation of my heavy tits slapping my bump and my nipples brushing the comforter turned me on even more. Neither of us were going to last much longer. Sy's thrusts were becoming less paced and more erratic. My body started to convulse in his grasp.

"Cum with me Darlin'" he grunted as my cunt started to tighten around his cock. He smacked my ass my orgasm hit.

"Unnggggg Syyyyyy" I moaned my cun convulsed around his cock. I felt myself squirt around his cock and onto his stomach. I could hear my juices squleching around as he fucked me to his release.

"AARGHH MADDY!" He called as I felt him still inside me. I felt his cock throb against my g-spot

"FUCK" I shouted loudly still riding my orgasm. I squirted again as he involuntarily fucked his cum into me causing me to convulse in his grasp. He held he tight to stop my legs from given out as my orgasm shook my body. He hissed as my cunt milked the very last of his cum out of his now sensitive semi hard cock.

I rolled onto my side and lay there panting. Sy collapsed down on the bed next to me. I laughed as my breathing started to become more normal.

"What?" Sy asked pulling my close so I was using his chest as a pillow.

"Nothing, I just love you that's all" I said leaving a soft kiss on his nipple.

"I love you both too" he said kissing the top of my head and stroking the side of my bump, our baby. "I'm never leaving my two girls again, ever" he muttered into my hair. He pulled the thin sheet over us and I felt my eyelids go heavy. We both drifted off into a content afternoon sleep. I think we might knew we would be needing as much energy as we could now Sy is back.

[olivemac]

1300 miles | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, Sarge), smut (f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, very very slight dom!Bucky, praise kink), angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

A/N | Likes and comments always appreciated. :)

series master list | AO3 link | full master list

1300 miles playlist

Tag | @mrs--barnes

_____

previous chapter

_____

Jo wakes the next morning to a text from Danny: Did you fuck the Winter Soldier?

She rolls her eyes and responds: Fuck off. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore.

Danny replies with a leaf emoji and the words: Come upstairs.

Jo slides her glasses on and climbs out of bed. She pads into the living room as quietly as she can to find Bucky snoring on her couch with Toulouse perched on his chest. She can’t stop herself from snapping a picture with her phone.

Upstairs, she lets herself into Danny’s apartment. She’s met at the door by Greta, Danny’s PTSD service dog, a medium-sized German Shepherd who waits patiently for Jo to kneel down and scratch her behind her ears.

“Morning, pup,” Jo whispers.

“I’m out here,” Danny calls from his third-floor balcony.

“Coffee?” Jo asks.

“Cold-brew in the fridge,” Danny responds.

She detours to the kitchen before joining Danny at the small table on his balcony.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jo asks. Danny always smokes the morning after a nightmare.

“They’re called flashbacks, and yes,” he responds, taking a deep drag of the joint.

“But they’re getting better, right?”

"Since you came back, yeah, they're getting better."

“Give me that,” Jo says, reaching for the joint. She takes a drag then exhales slowly. “You can always wake me up when you have a flashback, you know.”

Danny snorts. “I was afraid I’d wander into your bedroom to find you getting dicked down by an Avenger.”

“Please stop,” Jo groans. "You get that you're my brother, right? And this is weird."

Danny laughs, "It's only weird if you make it weird." Then he says, “Seriously, though, what’s the deal with Mister Tall-Dark-and-Handsome? I mean, if Sam trusts him, then he must be a good guy, but he’s literally a hundred years old, Jo.”

“He’s…” she pauses, “really sweet and charming underneath the brooding exterior. I really like him, Danny.”

“But?”

“But he lives in New York,” she whines.

“Yeah,” Danny says, taking another drag on the joint.

“‘Yeah?’ That’s all you’re going to say?”

Danny shrugs. “Some things are worth working for.”

Jo laughs, “Okay, why don’t you get back to me when you’re not high. I’m heading back downstairs.”

“Love you, Josiebean,” Danny says, using the nickname he gave Jo when they were kids.

“Love you, too, Daniel-San,” Jo replies. Danny laughs at the Karate Kid reference like he always does, and Jo kisses his forehead and pats his shoulder before leaving.

_____

Bucky wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon, his stomach rumbling at the scent. There's a warm weight on his chest, and when he opens his eyes he's greeted with the yellow stare of Toulouse.

He looks at his watch. It's a little after eleven. He usually wakes earlier, but he also doesn't usually sleep as soundly as he did last night.

He wanders into the kitchen in his borrowed sweats to find Jo standing at the stove in an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and out-of-season Halloween socks, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her back is to him, and he takes the opportunity to study her naked legs. More ink peaks out from the hem of her shorts and covers most of her thighs. Bucky has the urge to drop to his knees before her and run his tongue over every intricate design.

Instead, he clears his throat, so he doesn't startle her, and she turns to face him. Her face is bare, and she’s wearing large, gold-rimmed glasses. Bucky can’t decide if she looks prettier like this or like she did last night, with her hair flowing down her back and her guitar in her hands.

"Morning," Jo says. “Sorry to shatter the illusion,” she continues, gesturing to her glasses and outfit.

Bucky smiles. He isn’t sure what the protocol is for greeting the woman you made out with and whose couch you slept on last night, but he decides he wants to kiss her again. He takes the few steps toward her and pulls her into his arms. This close, she has to crane her neck up to look him in the eyes.

“Morning,” he says. They’re so close and his voice is pitched so low that Jo can feel the word rumble in his chest. Butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Bucky leans down slowly and presses his lips against Jo’s. This kiss is softer and slower than the kisses they shared last night, and the heat that explodes in Jo’s lower stomach burns the butterflies away. Her fingers dig into his triceps, one arm yielding to her touch, the other firm against her digits. She sighs and opens her mouth to his tongue, letting him deepen the kiss.

He licks into her mouth, and Jo moans, her hands coming up to cup his stubble-covered cheeks. Bucky’s own hands slide down Jo’s back to her buttocks, pulling her hips flush against his so she can feel the effect she’s having on him. Jo gasps, and Bucky’s lips leave hers to trail wet kisses against her jaw.

When he pulls away, Bucky’s smile is almost smug. He likes all the sounds he’s able to pull from her, and he wants to hear more.

Jo turns back to the stove, catching her breath and trying to hide the flush she knows is rising from her chest to her cheeks.

“Breakfast — well," she looks at the clock on the oven, "brunch — is ready. Have a seat.”

Bucky places a final kiss against the back of Jo’s neck before sitting.

Toulouse rubs against Bucky's legs beneath the kitchen table. He reaches down to scratch Louie between the ears, and the cat lets out a contented chirp.

"He's usually not that nice to strangers," Jo says, watching the two of them from across the room.

"My sister had a cat growing up — big, fat orange thing that was missing half an ear. His name was Marmalade."

Jo smiles brightly and sets a plate of food in front of him. “Coffee?” she asks.

“Please,” Bucky says. “But I can get it.”

“No need,” she says, handing him a mug of fresh coffee. “You want oat milk? Sugar, maybe?”

“Black is good,” Bucky says, taking his first sip.

Jo sits across from him with her own plate and coffee cup. They spend breakfast talking quietly. Bucky likes the domesticity of it. He's gotten used to having breakfast at the Wilson's with Sarah, Sam, and the boys, but this meal with Jo feels more intimate. He has a brief flash of spending every morning like this, but he pushes it away as quickly as it comes. He's trying not to overthink whatever’s happening between himself and Jo. He’s not used to having good things in his life, but he wants to lean into this, take the risk.

"You said last night that you know who I am," Bucky says as they clear their plates from the table.

Jo is quiet for a moment, neatly stacking plates and coffee cups in the dishwasher.

“I may have seen a documentary or two featuring the Howling Commandos,” she says, closing the dishwasher and turning to Bucky. “And Sam and Steve may have crashed in Danny’s apartment for a couple of months when they were on the run following the Accords.”

Bucky is silent. He's staring at Jo with the same brooding intensity as last night, but there's something more in his eyes — a sadness she hadn't noticed earlier. She's seen that look before on Danny when he first came back from Afghanistan. It's the look of someone who's lost everything. But as quickly as it's there, it's gone.

Bucky clears his throat. “You knew Steve?” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, briefly,” she whispers. “Let me show you something.”

He follows her into the living room where she pulls a box from one of the bookshelves. She empties the contents onto the coffee table; it's a handful of polaroids featuring varied combinations of Jo and Sam and Steve and Danny. Bucky sits on the couch and picks up one of the photos. It's of Steve with a German Shepherd; in the photo Steve is smiling brightly, and Bucky's heart aches at the sight.

"That's Greta," Jo says, sitting next to Bucky, "Danny's dog. She was just a puppy then. She adored Steve."

Bucky laughs through his nose and picks up another photo. This one features Sam and Jo sitting at a table in a kitchen that looks like Jo's but slightly different — Bucky assumes it's Danny's; Sam is clearly in the middle of a story, and Jo's head is thrown back in laughter. A stab of jealousy hits him in the chest — Bucky wants to make her laugh like that. He skims through the rest of the polaroids, finally landing on one of Jo and Steve sitting side by side at a piano, Steve's large frame dwarfing the woman next to him.

"He found out I can play a few '30s and '40s standards on piano," Jo says, smiling at the memory. "There wasn't a lot for him and Sam to do cooped up here for three months, so I taught him some basics."

Bucky stares at the photo for a while before he speaks. "You play piano?" he asks.

"I started on piano, took up guitar when I was ten, then bass when I was thirteen. I can also play drums, organ, banjo, mandolin, and a little violin," she says. "And I have a Bachelors of Music with a concentration in voice."

Bucky stares at her for a moment, then tosses the photo back onto the coffee table and reaches for Jo, pulling her onto his lap. She settles with her legs on either side of his hips and her hands on his shoulders.

"So, you have very talented fingers, then?" Bucky asks with a flirty grin.

Jo rolls her eyes and laughs, but she's secretly pleased with where this interaction seems to be headed. She was worried Bucky would feel like she had kept something from him by not telling him about Steve last night, but he seems to be taking it in stride.

"Thanks for showing me those photographs," Bucky says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "He gave up everything for me back then, so it's nice to see that maybe he had a little bit of happiness during that time."

"He wanted the same for you," she whispers, nudging her nose against Bucky's.

Bucky kisses her softly, then pulls away, staring into her green eyes. Jo slides her glasses off and sets them on the coffee table behind her.

She drags a finger down his vibranium arm and asks, “Can you feel that?”

Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah. It’s—it’s different from the real one, but yeah.”

Jo hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything else. Their lips meet again, and this time the kiss is longer, needier. Bucky sweeps his tongue into her mouth, and Jo is certain she's going to have beard burn across her face tomorrow. But she doesn't really care.

Jo slides her hands into Bucky's hair, and he sighs into her mouth when she angles her hips against his just right, pressing against him slowly. His grip on her waist tightens before he slips his vibranium hand down across her backside to gently guide her movements. His flesh hand covers her right breast, palming her through her shirt.

Jo's hands leave his hair to slide beneath Bucky's t-shirt. He pulls back from her slightly and puts his hand over hers.

“I have scars,” Bucky warns.

“Okay,” Jo mumbles against his lips, trying for another kiss.

Bucky pulls back again. “They’re not pretty.”

Jo looks at him. “Bucky, do you really think I care about that? Do I look like someone who’s worried about conventional beauty standards?” she jokes. She smiles softly and brings a hand up to cradle his jaw. “You don’t have to show me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him again.

He pulls away from her mouth to tug the shirt over his head before he can overthink it. He’s gorgeous like this, and Jo wants to touch every inch of him. She starts with his chest, and her fingers dance lightly across the scars on Bucky’s left shoulder before she presses a quick kiss to the spot where flesh meets metal. Bucky smiles at the gesture, then his lips are on Jo's neck. As he sucks a mark into the place where her neck meets her shoulder, Bucky slips his flesh hand beneath the fabric of Jo's shirt.

Bucky's thumb slides across her nipple, and he pauses, warm metal against his digit stopping him. Jo can feel Bucky's fingers against her breast, trying to work out what exactly he's touching. She leans back, her hands on Bucky's chest to keep him from following her and pulls her t-shirt over her head.

Bucky's fairly certain his heart stops at the sight before him. He’s not sure what to look at first: the small gold balls that adorn either side of Jo’s erect nipples or the intricate floral design inked on her sternum between and below her breasts, framing them perfectly.

“So…I have my nipples pierced,” Jo says, taking Bucky’s staring for hesitation or confusion.

Bucky licks his lips. “Fuck,” he mutters before running his thumb across her right nipple and taking the left one between his teeth.

Jo hisses and bucks her hips harder against his cock. He's hot and hard beneath her as she grinds against him. The feeling he had last night – of being on fire – has returned, but it's tenfold now. Every thought of taking things slow, every bit of doubt has evaporated in wake of his need to please Jo.

Bucky grips Jo's waist and flips her onto her back on the couch, coming to rest between her open legs.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pressing his bare chest against hers. His dog tags are cool against her skin.

“Very," she breathes.

Bucky's lips find Jo's again before trailing across her jaw, down her neck, and over her breasts. He lets his tongue explore one of her pierced nipples before taking the bud between his teeth and pulling slightly. Jo gasps, and her own hands slide from Bucky's shoulders down his chest and across his stomach, her blunt fingernails scratching against his abs as she goes. She palms his cock through his sweats, and Bucky's hips stutter. His eyes clench shut like he’s in pain, and he pulls away to catch his breath.

"Sorry," Jo says quickly, removing her hand. "We can slow down."

"No," Bucky all but growls, then takes another deep breath and opens his eyes. "No. It's just been," he pauses, "it's been a while since I've done this, and you're kind of driving me crazy, Jo." He lets out a breathy laugh, then seems to sober. "I just—I, uh, need to be in control of some things. If that's okay."

She smiles her understanding before kissing him, softer this time. Bucky leans into the kiss and sweeps his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. He props himself up with his vibranium hand, and his right hand moves back to Jo's breasts, teasing each nipple in turn.

"Tell me what you want," Jo says as Bucky's teeth bite gently at her pulse point.

Bucky presses his lips against Jo's ear and whispers, "Touch yourself. Please. I want to watch you fall apart."

Jo whimpers. She catches the look on Bucky's face as her hand travels down her body and into her shorts. His pupils are blown wide, barely a hint of blue visible around black. She knows her own eyes look much the same.

She hisses when her fingers meet the bundle of nerves between her legs, then slide lower. Bucky can't decide if he wants to watch her hand beneath her shorts or her face. He settles for moving his eyes between her face and breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath she takes. Finally, he lowers his head back between her breasts and traces the outline of the tattoo there with his tongue. Jo moans and bucks her hips.

Bucky presses his own hips against the couch, trying to find the smallest bit of relief. He's not going to last. It's been too long since he's been with someone this way, and his body feels like a live wire. He reaches up to push the fabric of her shorts aside, moaning when he realizes she's not wearing anything beneath them.

He feels Jo's fingers pull away, and he growls, "Keep touching yourself." She does, her fingers rubbing hard circles into her clit. "Good girl," Bucky praises, and Jo keens, Bucky's name falling from her lips.

He slips his own fingers inside of her. She's so wet and warm, Bucky is afraid he'll finish just from this. Or maybe it will be the sound of her moans that do me in, he thinks. Because she sounds lovely, better than she did on stage last night. And she feels perfect wrapped around his two digits. He adds a third, and Jo's whole body tenses. Bucky can feel her warm heat tighten around his fingers as her legs bend and draw in closer to her body. The sight of Jo coming pushes him over the edge. He's spilling into his sweatpants like a teenager, and he doesn't even care. All he can think of is the sound of Jo, the feel of Jo, the look on Jo's face.

Bucky collapses onto Jo's body, his full weight resting on her for a second before he props himself up again and looks at her. She's smiling sleepily, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and he can't help but admit that it makes his ego swell to know he can make her smile like that.

"That was..." he starts.

Jo hesitates, then runs her fingers through his hair softly. "Good? Great? Amazing?" she says.

Bucky breathes out a laugh and rests his head on her chest for a moment. "All of the above," he replies. Jo hums, and Bucky continues, lifting his head again to look at her, "You're fucking perfect, doll."

Jo laughs, and replies, "You probably say that to all the girls, Sarge."

Bucky sobers. "No, Jo, I don't. Really." He brushes a strand of hair from her face. "When I said I haven't done this in a while, that was an understatement," he says. Dr. Raynor told him he needed to open up, nurture friendships (or whatever this is turning into), so here he goes. "I wasn't really planning on this happening — not that I'm not glad that it did..." He pauses.

"But you live in New York, and I live here. And we just met,” Jo finishes.

"I don't know how things like this work these days," he says. He's looking at her with such sincerity that Jo thinks her heart might burst. "I told you I wanted to do this right. Dinner, flowers, the whole nine yards.”

Jo cocks her head to the side and smiles. "Let's start with dinner."

_____

They lay in silence for a while, Bucky's head resting on Jo's naked breasts, her fingers running through his hair. Jo's starting to think he's fallen asleep when Bucky speaks again.

“I should probably go,” Bucky says reluctantly. "Sam was expecting my help with the boat today."

"I'll drive you," Jo says. "Just let me get dressed."

"You don't have to do that. I can call a cab."

"Delacroix's, like, an hour outside the city. It'll cost a fortune. Let me drive you."

Bucky hesitates, but Jo nudges at his right shoulder gently until he agrees. He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he stands and offers her a hand. While Bucky moves into the bathroom to change back into his own boxers and jeans, Jo slips into her room. She comes back out wearing jeans and a vintage Lilith Fair t-shirt; she's traded her glasses for contacts. Jo shoves her feet into her combat boots at the door and turns back to kiss Bucky quickly before they leave the apartment.

_____

The drive to Delacroix is quiet except for Jo's Paul Simon playlist thrumming from the car speakers. Bucky thinks he might actually like the music. Or maybe he just likes listening to Jo sing every word.

When Jo pulls up outside Sarah's house, Bucky turns to her from the passenger seat. “I don’t have your number,” he says.

“Give me your phone," she responds, smiling and holding her hand out.

Bucky unlocks his phone and hands it over. Jo saves her number before texting herself so she has his, as well. She deletes the text conversation and hands his phone back.

"There you go, Sarge," she says with a wink.

Bucky leans across the car's console and wraps his vibranium hand around the back of Jo's neck. He pulls her close and presses his lips against hers gently. Jo responds by running her fingers across the stubble on Bucky's jaw and sweeping her tongue into his mouth. A moan rumbles through Bucky's chest, and he tries to move closer to Jo's body, but he knocks his knees roughly against the center divider.

"Shit," he curses, pulling away. "It was easier to kiss a dame in the front seat of a car in the '40s," Bucky complains.

Jo laughs. "Kissing a lot of dames in cars, were you?"

"I got around," Bucky says, a grin on his face.

He feels like himself around Jo – not exactly the person he was before the war, but close. He almost feels like he could be a better version of that man; he wants to be that for Jo. For now, though, it's easy to flirt and laugh with her, watch her eyes light up and her smile brighten.

"I believe it, Sarge," Jo teases. Over Bucky's shoulder, she notices Sam standing on the front porch of the house. "I think I've stolen you away from Sam long enough," she says.

"Please, doll, steal me away anytime," Bucky flirts. He kisses her once more. "I'll see you Tuesday," he whispers, his hand lingering on her cheek before he climbs out of the car.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” Sam laughs as Bucky ascends the front porch steps.

“We are not talking about this,” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, we’re definitely talking about this,” Sam says, clapping Bucky on the back.

______

next chapter

[rebellect-writes]

[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I've had this track on repeat for a long time.

[align=center][IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/thevampirediariess01e11n.gif[/IMG][/align]

[b]Name:[/b] Chase Stirling. Real name's unknown. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST] [*] Chase. [*] Stirling. [*] Damn, you psychotic bastard. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] True age, well...about 2630 years old. He's hitting '33' this December though. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] His licenses say December 8, 1978. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Pansexual. [b]Availability:[/b] Complicated; Polygamous. [b]Occupation:[/b] Owns and runs the Silver Syn, bit a jack of all trades though.

[b]Species:[/b] Pure black dragon. [b]Element:[/b] Air. [b]Powers:[/b][LIST][i]Primary powers[/i] [b]Dreamscaping:[/b] Chase can produce a dream like ‘environment’ that feels so real to the dreamer that they would never know that they were dreaming. Touch, taste, smell, next to all the senses can be fooled into believing that the dreamscape is actually real, and not something made up. He can craft so fine a dream that he could move through a series of ‘visions’ – for example, from a city park to a beach, to a mountain top – and no one would really notice the difference unless he wanted them to or they were beginning to wake up.

Just because he has powers over dreams, it doesn’t mean he can’t be trapped into a dream by outside forces himself. Sometime he creates the dream scape from scratch, sometimes he’d rather just work with the dream the user is already having and ‘tweak’ it here and there. Sometimes he can take another being into a dreamscape with him, though they have to be pretty close and main contact with him otherwise they'd 'fall out' of the dream and back into reality, taking another person with him into a dreamscape of a third party can leave him sore bone deep, it's why he preferes to go one-on-one, at least he'd have more control over what happened. He's also got to be be caution about dipping into the dreams of the supernatural because there's no telling what could really happen.

While that’s all fine and dandy, he can also manipulate the dreamer into a nightmare scenario where he can torture the dream ‘body’ with all kinds of terrors particular to that person and it won’t affect the physical body. Yet sometimes he can push the power so the physical body believes it’s wounded and reacts in such a way, so if he kills someone in the dream then they’d die in real life because their body would ‘overload’. Doing something like that would and has left him in a catatonic like state for up to a week if it’s a particular long nightmare setting.

[b]Dream suggestions:[/b] In a dream that he hasn’t crafted, Chase can leave a suggestion without next to any trouble. Of course the dreamer can’t be aware of his presence otherwise the suggestion won’t take hold and he’d be left with nothing but a splitting migraine for his troubles. The stronger the suggestion, the more it takes it out of Chase and it can leave him weak for days, and sometimes unconscious. It’s a useful power if he wants to con someone into telling him a long forgotten secret or something similar; it just takes time and patience to peel it away from within the layers of subconscious of safeguarding.

[i]Secondary powers[/i] [b]Air control:[/b] Chase can control the very air you breathe if he wants. Some dragons have the ability to create a flame from nothing or to manipulate flesh and the earth to their whim; he gets to play with the air. Since it’s a secondary power, it’s not something Chase plays around with often but if pushed he can thin the air around people making it harder to breathe or remove it completely. He can even reverse this particular nasty trick so the air expands inside the body forcing the internal system to work over time. This is often used as a quick and crude method of dispatching someone that annoys him, as he can force the internal organs to rupture and burst completely in some cases. It takes extream concentration to do this.

[b]Wind control:[/b] On a whim, Chase can cause a stilted breeze turn into a draft and a draft into a gust and so on until it’s blowing a gale and its best to stay indoors. It doesn’t take that much out of him to do this, but continued use makes him cranky and more inclined to eat people. He could in theory make things worse with this power but he’s never tried. [/LIST][b]Description: [/b] [LIST][URL=http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs44/f/2009/098/d/9/Black_Dragon_by_BenWootten.jpg]He makes a pretty dragon.[/URL] In his dragon form, Chase is a big, black, horned and scaled lizard. Well, alright if you want a little more information than that, here goes. From snout to tail, he’s a whooping twenty-nine feet in length and twenty-one feet standing at the shoulders. His wingspan is roughly thirty foot from tip to tip. Now, his weight is a bit more trickier to get a solid read on, since dragons don’t have any body fat in their natural form, Chase weighs in roughly at four tonnes. [/LIST][b]Hybrid Form:[/b] [LIST][URL=http://images.elfwood.com/art/n/a/nadiasultan/black_dragon.jpg]Here we go.[/URL] He’s a just a little 7 foot tall, and weighs in at around about 500lbs of black scaled muscle with haunting silver blue eyes. [/LIST][b]Status:[/b] Lone black. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant. Can be both. [b]Power level:[/b] "Alpha".

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Ian Somerhalder [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/936full-ian-somerhalder.png[/IMG][LIST]Standing at 5’10 tall, Chase isn’t the tallest of people around and does he care? No. For his size, he’s built pretty averagely, weighing in at 161lbs. Of course there’s mussels in all the right places and not much in the way of puppy fat on him, so that works in his favour. He’s a blue eyed wondered too, with startling baby blue eyes and mussed up dark brown hair, it’s a wonder to some, how he hasn’t ended up scared. Clean shaven? On occasion, yeah. Chase likes to keep himself semi presentable but that doesn’t stop him from leaving the five o’clock shadow or looking like he’s just crawled out of bed some days.  

Now believe it or not, Chase does like the odd splash of colour in his wardrobe so it’s not all blacks, greys or blues. Hell, it isn’t all leather and jeans either; there are a couple of suits tucked away in there somewhere. Probably still in protective wrapping, but the idea still counts. He can pull a suit off, just like he can pull off the grungy broody bad boy look off, it’s all a matter of what mood he’s in when he throws open those wardrobe doors in the morning. Accessories and jewellery isn’t always a thing he flies with, he has a few rings that he wears on occasion and a necklace but that’s about it.

As for his visible marks, yes, he has a few. We’ll start with the easiest stuff, both his nipples are pierced and he does have his genitals pieced – A prince Albert if you really must know – as well. He’s thought about getting something new done, but he’s leaving that alone for the moment. He does have a [URL=http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs19/f/2007/288/0/5/Dragon_tattoo_by_Tatsu87.jpg]tattoo[/URL], and ironically enough it’s of a tribal dragon on his right hip. Depending on what he wears, you can sometime see it peeking out over the waistband of his pants. On the inside of his left arm, he’s got another [URL=http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv285/weena07/tattoo2.jpg]tattoo[/URL] that translates to “here and now” in Latin. As for scars, yeah, he's got some. Since they don't bother him, they aren't that important in his eyes or they're hardly noticable. [/LIST][b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] He knows how to use and work with blades, never got around to guns which isn't a shame. [*] Studied different torture techniques since the Dark Ages but he prefers to mix things up. [*] He knows a few forgotten dialects but can speak fluent Latin and Persian, also knows Italian, German, French, Russian and Haitian Creole. [*] He can cook; he just doesn’t do it because he has next to no one to cook for most of the time. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b][LIST]Chase is, for a lack of a better word, a psychotic dick.

He’s stubborn and likes to do things his own way or no way at all, and he’s impulsive enough that he’ll do things the way he wants them done, and reap the consequences afterwards when he calms down enough to think clearly. Wiley and deceitful. He can be quiet convincing and devious when the need calls for it, and on the other hand he can be very charming, giving off the appearance that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. It only lasts until he gets something he wants though, goal orientated as he can become if he wants something then he’ll let nothing stop him from having it.

He’s ruthless and often brutal, cruel, he’s also creative and he has poor impulse controls. Couple that with his strong willed nature and sometimes sadistic attitude and you’re asking for trouble. He doesn’t trust people from the get go, it’s almost impossible for him to simply let his guard down around people that don’t know him or vice versa. On saying that though, there are a few people that he can trust with his secrets and at his back, those few people mean the world to him and the trust that he’s shown them took a lot out of him to show. Break it? And he’ll come back at you with a vengeance that would terrify most. He has no qualms about killing someone if it means to protect himself – or people he cares about -, or to send a message to someone else.  

He doesn’t really like people much at all really. The only thing that stops him from killing people around him is that he craves the attention that he can get from them. So it’s more an ‘I’ll put up with you, if you put up with me’ situation. Yet, some people like him and it’s a mystery to him. They must see the chinks in his amour that he doesn’t, because underneath the bluntness and the bravado, he has a heart of gold covered in arsenic. He’s been hurt by people close to him and he’s closed himself off from it ever happening again. He’s literally for over a thousand years slept around killed, played on his impulses and been king of his own little world. That’ll change though, everything changes, and he’s not ready for it despite what he says.

Despite being a dick, he does have a good side that he keeps locked away. Even those close to him would have trouble seeing the cautious and quiet person that he is, seeking approval in his own little way. He has his moments where his actions speak more than his words do, and he’s the type to do anything to come out on top. He's hidden as a dragon for years and will do anything to keep his - and his friends and family - hidden from prying eyes. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Cherries. [*] Cinnamon. [*] A good alcoholic drink. [*] Working with his hands. Yes, that means clean up as well. [*] Manipulating people to dance like his puppets. [*] Playing games! (Games consoles etc.) [*] A good challenge wouldn't hurt him. He lives for that most days. [*] His dragon form, he doesn't spend enough time in it however. [*] Being warm, you have no idea how much a little warmth can improve the mood. [*] Doing odd jobs for the Unseelie when the need calls for a little outside intervention. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Magical humans unless they're useful to him. Most aren't. [*] People questioning his actions. Where's the mystery in that? [*] Dreaming; don't get him started on how many times his brother's meddled in there. [*] Kids. Period. If he wanted them in his life, he'd have asked for them in his life. [*] The idea of dragon slayers still existing, it sends a chill down his spine. [*] Feeling like hell after using his elemental powers. [*] Being sober; if he's sober someone somewhere at some point will bleed. [*] Being bored out of his mind; he gets destructive [*] Getting ordered to do something; he'll get creative [*] When he's finished a playstation game, he never really wants to play it again. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Mostly level headed compared to some dragons he knows. [*] Won't blink or flinch at a threat thrown at him. [*] Not as stupid as he looks most days. [*] The upsides to being a dragon. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] The downsides to being a dragon. [*] Has occasional episodes where he’ll stay as a dragon for days and not care about anything. [*] When he vents, it’s normally in Latin and someone normally dies. [*] Does get territorial over what’s his, some people will notice it and some won’t and he doesn’t care. [/LIST][b]History:[/b][LIST][i](30 years old)[/i]Two thousand six hundred and some change years ago, Chase hatched from an egg on a rocky ledge in the higher peeks of the Dolomite mountains in North East Italy. The mountain range was far from human settlements at the time so the black dragon nesting pairs that had claimed the ranges as theirs for centuries didn’t feel the need to hide what they were. The occasional human hunters that did manage to find their way into the black ‘clan’s’ territory was swiftly taken care of. If you could call torture ‘taking care’ and it just so happened the first human Chase – barely thirty at the time - ever saw was a lowly farmer that had wandered too far into the lowland pastures and had been found by his older nest mate, Lance, much to Chase’s dissatisfaction. Zevran and Leliana were delighted! Their sons hadn’t had the chance to show their worth to them since either of them had hatched, but now they could.  To Chase, the farmer was nothing more than annoyance when it squealed and flailed. He didn’t want to go near it let alone touch it. So he backed out – gracefully in his eyes – much to his brother’s annoyance and disappointment of his elders. Besides, he had other more important things to do like learning how to survive and each lesson that was thrown at him, he did everything possible to come out on top.

[i](330 years old)[/i] The first three hundred years of his life went by with little to remember. The occasional fight between him and Lance was the only thing that kept him from finding some dark corner somewhere to curl up and hibernate from the boredom. That was until he met another dragon roughly the same age as he was. Talbot was a loner, his parents having vanished one day without a trace to leave the youngling to fend for himself and because of that Lance liked to use the other dragon as a toy. Rather than let Lance victimize Talbot, Chase threw himself into the mix. He didn’t have a damn clue why he was doing it, perhaps it was because Talbot had no one in his corner or perhaps he just wanted to dick with his brother. Either way, Lance left limping and Chase had a very confused and angry dragon on his hands. It was only later that he found out why the other dragon was shunned by many of the dragons of the territory. While it may’ve bothered them it didn’t bother Chase one ounce, being a mute to him was kind of cool. It was the oddest match ever but in the following months there was a strong friendship there that was a foreign concept to most of the dragons in the Dolomites.

[i](410 years old)[/i] Chase’s life took a darker turn when his brother all but dragged him to mingle with humans when their settlements started to grow more and threatened to expand into the dragon’s low land home territory. It was curiosity that reluctantly won out, smacking the idea that Zevran would clip their wings or Lelianna would shun them both aside, not even thinking of Talbot shook the silly notion from Chase’s head. Little did he know that Lance was playing him like a fool, and he’d walked willingly into the trap that his brother had set up for him all because his brother wanted to torment Talbot again. When he realized what had happened, it was too late to do anything. He was in the heart of the human’s settlement! There was only one card that he could play, and he did to mixed results. He charmed the wrong female and only found out that she was to be wed when the male came storming into the barn in a rage so fine that Chase could almost taste it. There wasn’t much of a fight after the initial shock had died away Chase dealt with it the way he knew how. He snapped the males neck and before the woman could run away screaming, he broke hers as well before setting the building on fire. The fire quickly spread but it wasn’t something that concerned him as he made his way out of town.

When he returned to the mountains, he was beyond pissed to find that Lance had used the opportunity of his absence to abuse Talbot more. What stopped him from attacking his brother was the fact that humans had somehow managed to trap and kill his mother while the older dragons had gone off to annoy the clan of reds in the far south. Chase was torn between fear and anger. He couldn’t understand why Lance hadn’t tried to help save her. Then again, a part of him knew deep down that Lance favoured the old adage of ‘survival of the fittest’. If Leliana was stupid enough to get caught then kin or not, she was weak and not worth his time, Lance had said as Chase had gone off to see if it was really true with Talbot hot on his heels.

He found the butchering ground easy enough as the dawn came; it was hard to miss it. There was blood everywhere. The carcass – Chase refused to think of it as the wise if stern dragon that had raised him – was in pieces. Her wings lay torn and pegged out across the grass. Her fangs and claws had been removed as well as the luscious midnight black scales that had run the length of her spine and more. Seeing it up close, something snapped inside of Chase, something that even Talbot couldn’t retrieve. Rather than go after the humans that had butchered his mother, Chase flew out to find Lance. It didn’t take him long to find his brother bragging about defeating humans to his father who was more entranced over the story than his missing mate.

Or he was until Chase showed up covered in Leliana’s blood. Zevran tore a strip off both of them for being weak, openly mocked them in front of the gathering dragons. It was one thing to do it in private, but another to do it in front of the others within their ragtag clan. Zevran’s boys showed just how strong they were however. One minute they were cowering like whipped dogs, the next both Chase and Lance were tearing into their father and any other dragon that dared interfere to the point that anyone with any sense cowered and hid. The lucky – if you could call it that – strike that ended their fathers life was an unknown, as both had been going for the kill, both of them claimed the kill. The fight between themselves tore the bloodkin bonds even further apart and before Lance could kill him, Chase fled broken and battered.

He didn’t even let Talbot follow him! He just got the only territory he knew and felt safe in and ended up in Asia. The first thing that he did was find a nice secluded cave where he curled up and pushed himself into hibernation.

[i](710 years old)[/i] When he crawled out of his cave some three hundred years later, Chase was pleased to see that the world had changed more. It was a small disappointment that he wasn’t dead, but whatever! He found himself a nice little village in Indonesia where he spent his time wooing the local women, killing the men that objected and just living. It was as if something had switched off in his mind, he no longer held back like he had done prior to his hibernation period. Eventually when the thrill wore off and he grew bored of the humans, Chase set out to find someone a little more substantial. Talbot. It took him a few years to get a lead on the other male but eventually he found the other black in Russia living with a small group of normad mixed race dragons. Chase didn’t pay the mongrels any mind as he plucked Talbot out of that mire and dragged him off for a little reunion.

Despite the relationship he had with Talbot, the pair of them soon split up again. It just wasn’t in their natures to settle down in one place for one person. With the humans came other interesting things, civilisations died and grew again, but what amused Chase were the ‘others’. Vampires that stalked the night, shapeshifters that hunted when the moon was full as well as the fey folk that meddled. Despite all these new things, Chase still had a habit of falling back into familiar habits over the next two hundred years.

[i](918 years old)[/i] He found a cute little dragon to tangle with in the early 1500’s in the back end of some little county in Europe. Gina was a wild one, and after spending a week having various tumbles with Chase, she vanished. He never once looked for her or cared. If he had known – consciously – that they were going to have a spawn together, he would’ve shown more of an interest.

(944 years old) The summer of 1536 landed him in a small town in Denmark unannounced. He’d been doing a favour for a friend, and one thing lead to another. He’d had too many drinks the night before, insulted the wrong person, and copped a feel of the wrong woman. Silly mistakes really, but typical for him. He was dragged out of the small tavern by human law men, the wench as well, severely hung over and annoyed. When he asked the human law men what the charges where, accusations of witchcraft were thrown in his face. Rather than fight and defend himself; Chase went along with it. A little detour, he’d thought. Right until the moment the magistrate had declared him guilty and he was staked out in a square with other ‘witches’ and set on fire for his supposed crimes. He could’ve ended it at any time, but every time he tried to summon a wisp of air to help, his powers failed him. It could’ve been from the pain his human body was experiencing, but any doubts fled his pained mind when he saw his grinning brother standing at the front of the jeering hollering crowd.

Pain…

That’s the only thing he remembers of that time.

He had somehow torn himself free and shifted scaring everyone – except for Lance – and managed to get himself out of harm’s way into the countryside. Even in dragon form the burns had carried over, and if it hadn’t been for the green dragon to find him then it would’ve died no doubt.

The month the female spent healing him in her caves was one of the oddest of Chase’s life. Mostly he couldn’t understand why she was helping a black dragon! Then again all he knew was pain and the line between mental pain and physical pain was blurred beyond recognition.  

Until one day, fifty six years later the pain went away.

Chase woke alone in the caves to find the green had gone and he was fully healed. He didn’t know that he’d gone into a brief hibernation period until he went out into the world.

The first thing he did when he’d regained enough function to move out of the caves after checking he could still shift and fly, was find a nice stiff drink just so he could feel something. He kept drinking until he’d managed to gain a foothold in the world once more, pushing obstacles out of his way by either ripping them apart or by other means. He’s worked his way from the bottom to the top of his own ladder again, just surviving the best way he knows how and rather than advertise his continued presence to his brother, Chase has laid relatively low in the grand scheme of things, popping up every now and then when a ‘friend’ needs a helping hand.

1932 had him settling in Jackford on the insistence of a fey acquaintance from America. The fey in question had returned to the Sithin that had spawned it so Syn could no longer manage the upscale club that catered to the sins of the flesh. Eighty years on, Chase has managed the club like a pro and still managed to keep things running smoothly when it comes to his other dealings. He even managed to sweet talk Talbot into joining in the ‘relocation thing’ and settling down with him. [/LIST][/SIZE]

[widgenstain]

Haven’t done that in a while, have I?

It by Stephen King

Rating: 1/10

Review:

Urgh, this dumpster fire… This dumb book blocked up my nightly readings for far too long, I was so ready to abandon it at points but eventually hate read powered through because some masochistic parts of me still wanted to know how it ended. This goes right on top of the list of garbage I read/watched/did for James.

It also is a prime example for why I usually steer away from long novels or fics. It’s not that I can’t read them, I read a ton for work and yes, they’re huge books, but it takes some tremendous skill to fill 1000 pages of a novel and keep it interesting and/or non-repetitive throughout. It’s what amazed me so about Gaiman’s American Gods, my copy has 640 pages and not one, NOT ONE of them is too much.

My copy of IT has 1376 pages and honest to god, you could have easily scratched 800 of them and it still would have been the same goddamn story. 300 pages alone are basically “and then he told his friends what the reader just read”. SO UNNECESSARY!! 

Like, if it contributed anything to the world or character building, ok, I could have dealt with that, BUT IT DIDN’T! The characters and their arcs are established pretty early on, partially through proper character building, partially through the time-jumps, but quite often through blatant tell-not-show.

King spells everything out SO many times, through so many weird analogies or metaphors, I mean, WOW! Eddie the momma’s boy, Stan the Jewish one who’s a bit obscure due to dying early on, Ben the sensible fat one who becomes a main character but sort of doesn’t, Richie the “funny” one (I swear if I had a nickel for every time King writes “they laughed” when absolutely nothing funny happened, I’d be very very rich), Bill the shameless heroic author insert who couldn’t be more of a textbook definition of Marty Stu if he tried, and Boobs, who will get her own paragraph in this rant. Mike is the one who actually gets off the best, I did like his first-person interludes, how they build his investigative and questioning nature and what they did to the overall story.

Which brings me to the structure: I don’t mind time-jumps nor changing perspectives, I actually love them if done well, and they’re not TERRIBLE here (they do make sense for the message), but King way too often feels the need to interrupt a scene at a suspenseful point only to retell most of it when he gets back to the scene. Most of the side characters suffer from that, foremost Henry Bowers and Tom. It gives the story this episodical feel “He ran. He made it out. This time. IT would get him soon.” DUN DUN DUUUUUN and when we cut back he’s running again!

This works once, twice or even thrice but gets SO TIRING if done every.other.chapter! This is a problem I have with many long fanfictions, where it actually does make sense, since the author publishes the chapters separately and tries to keep the reader engaged, yet I STILL don’t like it. And in a published book?! @clickthefrog mentioned that there’s a good chance that King wrote this super high on a plethora of drugs and OOHHHH YEAH, I can totally see that happening, but I wonder if his editor was sitting next to him and doing lines from the same damned pile of coke.

Someone really needed to go over this and cut it down to its essentials. Which aren’t bad, I did like the monster, I did like IT, the whole idea of Derry just being infested by it was great, some of the horror elements are genuinely disturbing and I GET the fascination with Pennywise and the other manifestations. Not all of IT makes sense imho but not everything in horror has to and those scenes were perfectly fine. But they make up like 10% of the book!! 

The rest is Beverly’s tits. 

Jesus HOLY-OBJECTIFICATION-BATMAN-MOTHERFUCKER! I am NOT exaggerating when I say that every time the focus shifts to her, there’s a remark on how hot she is. Which I MAYBE would be ok with when she is an adult, but it happens to the 11-year-old girl as well! If I had a nickel for every time her “small breasts” or naked skin or seductive red hair is mentioned and how the boys want to touch her, I’d be even richer. I mean, there is adoration and growing sexual obsession through the eyes of PRE-TEEN boys, and there is creepy as fuck objectification through the eyes of the author.

And yeah, I bet you’ve all heard of that scene… Look, I don’t mind fucked-up things in fiction, I’ve read things way worse than what happens here but context and build-up freaking matter. I cannot shake the feeling that King delights in and gets-off on putting Beverly though sexualised,violent shit, what happens with her father, her husband, Jesus Christ, that terrible sex scene with Bill (he makes her cum twice with the thrusts of his mighty penis… two good things came out of this: James and Jessica getting it on for my viewing pleasure and the knowledge that I, a fucking foreigner with limited English skills, can write better sex scenes than a best-selling American author. GO ME!!) and it’s all fine, it’s a horror story, we all love putting our favourite characters through terrible and humiliating things sometimes, I get it, we cool.

But after these scenes that clearly establish that King has a thing for Beverly, that 11-year old girl makes five of her male friends fuck her because… she loves them and that will build a connection? Uhmmm? What the fuck?! I get that she’s fucked-up because of her father, but the way it’s written, the obsession with the non-working baby dicks and how she feels pleasure and cums when Ben shoves in his grown-man thing… Whow! Gross! Ew ew ew, this is wrong and it would be wrong if it was written well too.

Anyway, gross child sex scenes aside, if you couldn’t tell yet: I’m pissed I paid for this book (they only had the German version in the Open Book Case) and I’m pissed that even more people will pay for it.

A friend of mine has that theory that as soon as a book makes it to the piles at the front of an airport book shop, the author is set for life. People see it when they’re bored, they recognise the title, so they buy it and read bits of it. These are people who usually do not read much, so they have no comparisons, they often don’t even finish the book but they remember that they’ve had it in hand so they talk about it. These books sell, they make a movie, even more people know of the title and buy it because they recognise it but who knows how many of them actually read it; it absolutely doesn’t matter how bad the book is, it keeps on selling. That’s my theory with IT because there is no fucking other explanation why this got so successful.

The movies definitely helped, I haven’t watched either movie yet (parts of the old one on TV, but never the full movie), I most likely will before IT2 comes out, they’re supposedly not as unintentionally creepy or borderline paedo pornographic as the book, so I’ll give them a try. Not gonna pay for them though, nope, not a chance. :P

[wrongarmofthelaw]

★ FILL IN THE QUESTIONS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

TAGGED BY: @st-riley-the-brave

TAGGING: @tiffanyxvalentine, @plasticslasher, @dcspairwings, @xdahliawallacex

Originally posted by moubrave

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?  “Officer Arabello on duty, Arabello to my colleagues, Fi to my family and friends.”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? “Fiona Margaret Arabello”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT?  “I’m a police officer and we go by last names in official capacities. My mother wanted to hang on to some element of her Irish heritage, so she wanted to name me FÍona. But she found it was easier for people to say Fiona, so she went with the Scottish way of pronouncing it. ”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?  "Taken.”

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES?  "I’ve been training to try to control my astral projection more and shield myself from dangerous otherworldly creatures. I have training in crime investigation, police procedure and marksmanship.”

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?  “Green. My eye looks a little bit cat like depending on the lighting. I only have one after what happened during the sting...”

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR?  “No.”

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?  "I have a fiance and a daughter. My parents are dead, but I do have several aunts, uncles and cousins.”

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?  “Dipper, a German Shepard”

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.  “Corrupt cops, evil supernatural creatures threatening the city. Being treated like the scum of the earth simply for having this job.”

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?  "I like reading comics. I have an acquaintance who gives me discounts at his comics shop. Watching movies. I’m a casual gamer.”

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?  “I try not to if there are other ways to deal with a situation. Sometimes I have to uphold the law even if I personally disagree with it. Plus sometimes I have had to get rough with suspects and people with road rage trying to hurt others.”

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?  “In the line of duty, at times I’ve had to.” (She killed the seven corrupt cops who sabotaged the sting and shot her eye out. But she wouldn’t admit that during an interview)

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? “Depends on the quiz.”

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.  “Worrying I’m not doing enough to help, a nasty temper at times, getting so busy I accidentally ignore my family and friends.”

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE?  “Yes. Emily Brass is incredibly brave for what she went through and trying to get her life back together. Elizabeth Ciardubh is also brave and amazing in the things she can do and the ways she can help people. I have other friends...a very kind man who’s been around for a long time and yet the pain he’s gone through has only made him kinder. Another man who’s very brave and looks after his family.” (The people she means are @fromgallowsandgraves‘s portrayal of Adam Frankenstein and @it-won‘s AU portrayal of Luke Garroway)

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?  “Straight.”

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?  “I graduated from the New York City Police Academy.”

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY?  “I do want to get married. I’m hoping to hold the ceremony closer to the summer. I already have one child and I’d like to have another before I get too old or something happens to me in the line of duty.”

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS?  “My family and friends are my biggest fans.”

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?  “Dying. Leaving my family behind. Not doing enough to help during my lifetime. My family not being safe. My family members possibly hurting people who don’t deserve it.”

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?  “My uniform on duty. I go for t-shirts and jeans in the warmer months. Sweaters and other things to bundle up in during the colder ones.”

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?  “Yes.”

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?   “Middle class.”

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?  “A few.”

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?  “I enjoy it. I have to watch my weight because I don’t want to be too fat to ride my motorcycle. My fiancé makes some pretty good pies when he has the time.”

27. FAVORITE DRINK?  “Sprite”

[ yo. where did 28 go? ]

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE?  “My apartment. I love coming home to my family after a long day.”

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?  “Yes.”

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE?  “You mean what size do I prefer? That’s none of your business.”

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?  “I’m closer to the ocean, so probably there. Plus lakes tend to be unsafe for reasons I won’t get into.” (She had to go rescue her daughter from a summer camp that a certain hockey masked slasher attacked.)

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’?  “I’ve dated all sorts of guys. For me, it’s more about the personality than anything.”

34. ANY FETISHES?  “Once again, none of your business.”

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?  “What did I just tell you twice before?”

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS?  “Indoors at home, but I do enjoy occasional camping trips with Liz.”

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER?  “Yes, because some of these questions are getting way too personal.”

[thataspdfeel]

I'm curious, what are you most attracted to in your partners? Is it similar traits in all of them or different ones like their sense of humour etc.? Sorry if this is a weird question but you've said before you like when people ask about them so I thought I would.

i was so excited to get this and then forgot to answer it :/ im an idiot

also gonna put this under a cut cause this is gonna be hella long cause im a fucking romantic dork

god though i could wax poetic. they’re all so lovely. like they have traits in common but also are unique. they all have brown eyes but theyre unique. like my husband has these eyes that remind me of warm chocolate. like a chocolate fountain kind of warm chocolate. dark and smooth but reflect the light. my wife’s have tinges of gold in the irises like flecks of gold leaf. and theres a dark ring around the pupil and one around the edge of the iris. theyre fucking magical

my boyfriend’s eyes are almost black and very deep. darker than the night sky and full of warmth and mischief. but its like theyre never ending, like he can see the innermost parts of whoever he’s looking at, like your soul is written on your forehead

lmao i love eyes can you tell

they all have these goddamned sinful eyelashes and my boyfriend’s are the longest. theyre as dark as his eyes and when he’s embarrassed, he gets all shy and they brush against his cheekbones like how dare you sir. how dare you be beautiful even when youre embarrassed. i look like a fucking tomato. rude

my husband’s look gold at the tips with the way the light catches them. like yknow how fake eyelashes have purple or red at the tips? like that except gold. like what??? the fuck??? rude

they all have very soft hair though my boyfriend’s is the longest. i cant wait to get with him irl again cause i wanna braid it. he’s got a bony face and it frames it so well. it’s so dark brown its almost black and it’s fun to see him try to sweep it out of his face cause he refuses to tie it up

my husband has these wild curls. we were looking up how to take care of them and that’s how we found out hes ethnically jewish. (which makes sense considering he’s german) they get so thick and heavy and they’re so soft and lovely to nap in. which i do on a semi regular basis. its so soft and lovely and i love when he grows it out. he just doesn’t look right with shorter hair. and he has this beard that grows funny, makes him look like jedidiah if yknow what i mean. he has such a baby face without it and he loves beard scritches it’s so cute how happy he gets

bluh im bouncing all over the place i just??? love them?????? so??????????? much???????????????? there’s so much to talk about!!!

so i guess i’ll just try and make a list of the things i love about them

husband:

cheerful, bubbly, very sunny personality. the human incarnation of a very excited dog (which can be A Lot sometimes)

extremely kind. would give you the shirt off his back. often laments that he stopped carrying cash years ago every time he sees somebody who could use some despite the fact that we’re always broke

a proper southern gentleman??? like im fat so im used to people not holding doors open for me fucking ever and being really goddamned rude in general. he ALWAYS holds doors open for me, opens the car door for me both to get in and out of the car, and gets pouty if i try and carry my own bag. it’s so sweet??? ive literally never had that before and even after three and a half years, it’s still so charming

he will do literally anything the fuck i ask. he’ll say no and im like oh ok and he’ll tease like “finally! i said no! and got away with it!” just to make me giggle and then does it anyway

on this note, he also always cooks as much as absolutely possible. even though his spine gives him problems, he does his best to keep me off my leg

he’s always so concerned about my well being. like if there’s not a disability cart at the front of a store, he makes me sit down while he goes and chases one down. if im stiffer than usual due to a cold front, he’ll remind me to take pain meds every four hours

he’s trying to learn japanese because he knows i dont have anybody to practice with here in the states. just for me and not any other reason

adores animals. even if he finds a dog annoying, he’ll still fawn over it and give it as many pets as it wants and won't ever snap at it even if anybody else would. he’s got these large hands and he’s kind of clumsy but this goes away around animals. he’s just so careful and gentle like i never ever worry

drags me out of my introverted cave because he knows social interaction is also good

has introduced me to some of my favorite books and video games because he’s verious conscious about what somebody likes and works to be like “hey, i think youd like this” and is almost always correct??? amazing

has 0 sense of style but doesnt mind somebody who knows better keeping him from absolute disaster

dude is a damned good cook. ive gained like at least a solid 25 pounds since he moved in and started cooking regularly

SPEAKING OF COOKING, we met on the tail end of my anorexia when i was doing my best to recover and still slipping up. he never made me feel bad about it but always encouraged me to eat. he eats SO much (think shaggy rogers) that i always felt comfortable eating in front of him. he always reminds me to eat and asks if ive eaten that day. honestly, i wouldnt be at this level of recovery if it hadnt been for him

is amazing at caling me down holy fuck

wife:

met her first, of the three of them, ironically so ive known her the longest but been with her the shortest. we dated a few months in hs but there was a chick she wanted to date like right there (and i was in japan) so i was like oh go for it. well, they broke up and we got back together and it’s been lovely ever since

she has this snorting laugh that’s adorable to listen to and it makes me feel more comfortable laughing (because i think i sound like a damn goose)

SHE HAS SO MANY GODDAMNED FRECKLES ON HER CUTE LITTLE FACE THEY’RE ADORABLE AND AMAZING AND VERY FUN TO KISS BECAUSE SHE SQUIRMS

she has a goddamned button nose for chrissakes

and these really wide hips too like i felt bad about my hips years ago cause theyre p wide but shes adorable and has wide hips too. she kinda made me love them (even though hers are better)

she’s genderfluid so i get to be gay all across the gender spectrum (im agender) and she’s so beautiful and handsome and v amazing

we were both homestuck fans at the height of it (like we still are) but her cosplays are just really well done??? shes so talented

OH MY GOD SHE MAKES THIE CHICKEN SOUP WITH HOMEMADE NOODLES I WOULD SLAP AN OLD LADY FOR

i dont know about the rest of her cooking (sadly) due to limited time around each other but i cant fucking wait tbh. her cookies kill me tho i love them

an amazing fashion sense. im a dumpster compared to her

an amazing writer and artist and i die every time she sends me something like my soul fucking ascends

she loved me BEFORE meds which i think is amazing. like what a lovely human being yknow? im a dick without meds and she loved me anyway and i love that about her

she speaks german and she makes it sound beautiful and i cry

her singing voice is so angelic and it kills me when she sings because everybody should hear this lovely person sing

she is hyper empathetic and it makes her so lovely and kind and wonderful. she completely understands how i feel about things and why even when no one else does and is very good at de-escalating me when im upset

we’ve just known each other for something like 7 years now? like i dated her post my abusive ex and she lit up my whole world with happiness at being treated well. then her ex was abusive and just... we get each other? in a way where her husband and my other two partners dont. its a pain the others dont understand so we go to each other during these times of pain in a way we cant with other people. it’s a very special connection

she’s a goddamned goof and i love it

my boyfriend:

motherfucker is so skinny which is the opposite of me and for some reason it works?? idk like it worries me but it’s also unique. love it

we dated almost my whole senior year of hs but he broke up with me because he thought he didnt have the same depth of emotion as i did for him and didnt want to “hold me back” from somebody better. like??? can you imagine?????? how fucking kind

recently started dating again like it took him fourish years for him to realize SHIT I MADE A MISTAKE so he’s a little slow but he’s so very thoughtful

he’s a goof in a different way than the other two. dad jokes. never ending fucking dad jokes. and goddamned puns. he never stops. dont tell him i love them because then he’ll never let me tease him again (i pretend like its The Worst)

so. fucking. dramatic. always flips his hair in the sassiest way possible. its super gay (he’s bi)

he doesnt do a whole lot of romance or saying WHY he feels certain ways. he feels like it cheapens the emotion. but, on the rare occassion he doesnt let this bother him, his poetry he sends me about how he feels makes me fucking cry. it’s so beautiful. i love it

he works watering at a plant nursery and complains about how the bees always use him as a landing strip. it’s adorable

he’s so resourceful?? this is best seen when playing minecraft cause he makes some damn cool structures in some really nice places. i love playing it with him just to see what he builds and how (especially since im a boring, lets make this house a square kinda ho)

he’s so camera shy??? no selfies no skype at all. he’s so bashful and it’s super cute i love it

got me into DnD like yes thank you for this enjoyable nerdery

the sole reason i passed math in hs. like not only is he smart but hes also really good at explaining things to people? definitely a talent for teaching people things

he was my best friend for the longest time like all three of them are my best friend but he was the only one who was my best friend FIRST and then romance blossomed

like im demiromantic so i need a strong connection to fall in love like it was a solid few months of dating my husband before i began to love him. i knew my wife for awhile and got close so same general story. but my boyfriend and i were more friends to lovers and i love that about him

his dad is half italian so he talks with his hands and it’s so overdramatic that he hits people with them on a semi regular basis just gesturing. he once accidentally knocked my glasses all the way across a room cause i had walked behind him and he made a sweeping gesture. hilarious

one time, i had food poisoning and the pain was so bad, i had to crawl under his kitchen table until my mother came to take me to the base clinic. he sat with my head in his lap and brushed my hair out of my face and cooed gently at me to try and soothe me. it was so sweet and ive never forgotten about it

motherfucker, with the help of my sister, dragged me into homestuck

he’s so damn shy about affection that holdling his hand in public makes him blush. it’s even worse if i steal a kiss. fucking adorable

things all three have in common that i love:

good in bed. it sounds silly but this is important to me because while i dont necessarily need sex to form a close relationship to fall in love, it definitely helps

idk how this happened, i really dont, but somehow everything i like lines up nicely with everything they like??? and if im not into something, they can find it with each other and vise versa. lmao wtf how did this happen to line up idk

kind, generous, sweet, and helpful although all three show these qualities in different ways despite having them in common

love me??? like honestly it sounds so silly that id love that they love me but im such a flawed, terrible human being that it leaves me in deep awe that not only does one person love me but three??? how??? amazing people to find something in me to love and to keep on loving despite all my problems. beautiful

creative, smart, and inventive each in their own right. they fucking astound me and take my breath away

beautiful cuddlers (not being sarcastic, promise)

husband is a goddamned heater but boyfriend is a living block of ice. then wife is one of those who’s in between but she steals your heat and then hours later gives it back which is the worse option of the three. like it starts out all nice but then you end up surprised hours later because youre fucking dying of heatstroke

so we have two heatstroke, drowning in sweat options and then losing your limbs. it makes trying to set the thermostat a fucking nightmare

they all love to read and honestly? i couldnt be with anyone who doesnt like a good book

can hold lively, in depth discussions about things

hubby tends to lean more towards “would it be immoral to fuck a succubus” type morality questions and superhero dissection type things

wife is all over the place and can carry on a conversation about goddamned teapots if she so chose. no idea how she does it

boyfriend likes to entertain more morbid thoughts and psychology but also likes to analyze things. like homestuck. we still fucking dissect homestuck

very intelligent. blows my dumb ass out of the water. beautiful

like gaming various amounts and various kinds of games. hubs likes any and all. boyfriend likes dnd, monster hunter, minecraft etc kinds of things, not really one for cards or board games. wife prefers to craft but will occasionally engage in board games or cards, less so in video games but tends to stick to pokemon. it’s nice

they’re all very physically beautiful though in different ways. hubby is barrel chested and german with very strong arms and big hands, a bright and sunny smile. wife is small and round with tiny, artist hands and a sweet, pixie face. boyfriend is thin, long, and gaunt with pale skin and dark hair (kind of like damien from dream daddy tbh)

i could go on but ive been making this post for like well over two hours now and i figured maybe i should stop. it’s long as hell and idk if anybody else would have read this whole thing but basically i fucking adore my partners??? so much??? and there are so many things about them to love???

i just love them so much and could go on and on for hours about why i love each of them and how lovely they are and how they make me feel

ksdjrfgh im so sorry this is so long theres just so much to talk about //sweats

[bibliosexxual]

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?” me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic” boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

“No. I wasn’t finished,” Stiles says. “We also ate lunch together last Monday. I forgot to bring my lunch, so I was just eating a bag of chips from the vending machine and he offered me half his tuna sandwich.”

It had been one of the nicest office lunch breaks he’d ever had, actually. Stiles was sitting on the low brick wall at the edge of the picnic area, and to his surprise, Derek sat down there, too, in his probably-thousand-dollar suit, while Stiles gaped at him a little for doing it. 

Derek had then continued to sit there even after giving away the sandwich. It had been clear from the way he kept glancing at Stiles that he didn’t know what to say but he wanted to say something, so Stiles had prompted, “Got any weekend plans?” and Derek had said he didn’t have any, so Stiles had rambled for a while about his weekend plans, which involved going down to San Francisco for the weekend for a Bastille concert. Derek sat there and listened attentively the whole time, which, in Stiles’ experience, not many people would do. He also said he didn’t know who Bastille was. That was a little surprising, but then again, Stiles supposed Derek didn’t have a lot of time to absorb pop culture, what with running the foundation and owning a dog and all.

He’d obviously had a bit of time at that moment, though, so Stiles had pulled out his phone and played Derek some of their songs, and Derek had nodded his head subtly to the beat and smiled a little and instantly made Stiles’ crush on him a whole lot more intense.

“And that’s it,” he concludes now. “So do you think he’s into me at all?“

"How should I know? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Stiles mutters, thinking about all the times she’s guessed ahead of time what he was going to get her for her birthday and all the times she’s taken one look at him and known with an uncanny certainty that he’s just gotten laid or, more commonly, that he’s just spent the whole night playing video games and ignoring life’s responsibilities.

Now Lydia sighs. “Look, all I know is, office romances are tricky. Even if he is interested, he’d probably feel like he can’t ask you out because of the power dynamic. You’ll have to make the first move.”

“Yeah, right,” Stiles snorts.

Lydia raises her eyebrows like, I thought so. “Stiles…” she says, “as your friend who’s concerned for your happiness, I’m going to ask you something: Have you gone on a single date in the last month? The last six months?”

Stiles resists the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze. She could be a world-class interrogator if she ever wanted a career change. “Okay, but… I’ve been busy, okay? It has nothing to do with Der— Mr. Hale. As if. That’s ridiculous. Totally ludicrous.”

“I see,” Lydia says, unimpressed.

The next thing he knows, she’s installing a dating app on his phone and filling in a profile that’s a hundred times more charming and put-together than anything Stiles could’ve come up with on his own and finagling a promise out of him that he’ll at least give it a decent try.

Stiles gives his word, but privately he wonders if he can keep it.

It was actually Derek who inspired Stiles to apply to work at the Howls for Change Foundation to begin with. The local newspaper interviewed him a couple of years ago about the foundation, back when it was just starting up. Stiles had been just skimming, not planning to sit down and read the paper for half an hour, but that’s just what he ended up doing, drawn in by Derek’s interview—his enthusiasm and love for wolves, his eloquence in replying to the journalist’s questions, the accompanying picture of him… He was in jogging clothes, crouched on a trail out in the woods somewhere and hugging his German Shepherd while flashing the camera a rare, genuine smile so bright it made Stiles feel warm all over, and yeah, Stiles applied to this job about 75% because he loved wildlife conservation and about 25% because he wanted to see Derek Hale smile like that again, and possibly be the one to make him do it.

The feeling has only gotten stronger since then.

Derek likes to act like he’s just one of the employees, even though he’s not only the boss but also the organization’s founder. He has his own corner office, but he mainly just uses it for meeting with local policymakers and other bigwigs. The rest of the time, he has a cubicle where he plugs away on his laptop or just sits contemplatively, eating an apple or listening to music on an old CD player he keeps in the top drawer. He eats lunch outside in the picnic area with his employees, too, when it’s nice out. He brings bag lunches from home, which Stiles finds oddly charming.

Still, Stiles can see Derek is set apart. No matter how much he acts like he’s just an employee, no one ever forgets he’s the boss. When he walks into the break room, a hush always falls, and if they were talking about something gossipy or off-color before he walked in, they always hastily change the subject to something more workplace-appropriate and bland, like the weather or what’s for lunch, and Derek nods politely at them, gets his coffee, and leaves without a word. Stiles thinks he looks kind of lonely. He always comes off as hardworking and unpretentious, but he also doesn’t seem that fond of small talk or smiling, and it clearly makes a lot of people feel awkward around him.

For all the great work Derek is doing in the conservation world, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends.

Even so, the thought of Stiles asking him out and Derek actually saying yes… Well. It’s laughable, really.

So Lydia says, “Promise me you’ll at least try the app?” and Stiles says he will.

*

Two weeks and several mediocre first dates later, Stiles is sitting in a budget meeting at 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, poking at his phone under the table. He doesn’t make any attempt to stay on task first; whenever Greenberg starts talking in these meetings, like clockwork Stiles always gets this unbearable itch to look at his phone or pick at his nails or even just stare blankly out the window, anything but listen to him.

He deletes a dozen spam emails and replies to a couple punny texts from Scott from last night before he finally, reluctantly thumbs over to his unread messages on the dating app. By this point he’s not very optimistic. Turns out he was right to be, because someone has sent him an unsolicited dick pic.

Instinctively he sinks down a little lower in his seat. It turns out to be an unnecessary precaution, though. One glance around confirms it: the woman to his left is absorbed in doodling Power Rangers on her notepad, and the man to his right is gazing straight ahead into space, so zoned out he’s practically comatose.

Stiles looks back down at his phone.

It’s a nice dick pic, objectively. Very artistic, very tasteful. The guy, whose head is cropped out of the photo, is sprawled on his back on a turquoise sheet, soft sunlight falling on his naked torso, one long-fingered hand curled lazily around his erection. A+ for aesthetics.

Still, Stiles did not wake up this morning after only three hours of sleep (what can he say, he got distracted by Wikipedia again) just so he could see a complete stranger’s junk.

The sad thing is, this isn’t even the first time this has happened, or the third, or the fifth… Would it kill these guys to say hello first?

Stiles screenshots it, then pastes it into a new email to Lydia (he’s been keeping her apprised of his dating app adventures, at her insistence). He captions it with a grumpy, “guess how my morning is going.”

She’s the one who thought this app would be such a great idea in the first place. Maybe now, face-to-face with what Stiles has had to put up with on a daily basis for the past two weeks, she’ll finally admit the whole online dating thing was a bad idea and stop shooting him pitying looks whenever the subject of Derek Hale comes up.

After that, he blocks the dick-pic-sender and puts his phone away. Greenberg is still talking, still meticulously going over lots of hard-to-read charts, and Stiles’ gaze inevitably wanders to fall on Derek instead. Derek, who’s sitting at the head of the table, looking at something on his phone and not even trying to hide it.

Stiles supposes if you’re the founder of the company, you don’t have to pretend to be paying attention while Greenberg talks.

Derek’s phone buzzes in his hand; Stiles can just barely hear it. Derek taps at the screen while lifting his glass of water to his mouth, and then he must read something shocking because he simultaneously spits out his water all over his notes and starts coughing furiously, doubling over like he’s dying, his phone clattering to the table.

Greenberg momentarily stops his monotone speech, hovering like he’s not sure what to do, while pretty much everyone around the table freezes up except for the vice president, Boyd, who’s sitting next to him and never seems even remotely fazed by anything. He pounds Derek heartily on the back a couple times.

It seems to help. After a long half minute, the coughing fit passes. Derek looks up, red-faced, and rasps, “I’m okay.”

Hesitantly, Greenberg starts talking again. Derek straightens his tie and puts his phone away, and Stiles’ fellow employees go back to slumping in their seats with blank, I’m-bored-out-of-my-mind expressions on their faces, and that’s that.

Stiles can’t help wondering what it was Derek saw that got such a reaction out of him. Whatever it was, it’s guaranteed to be more interesting than this meeting.

Ah, well. Stiles will probably never know.

Or so he thinks until about half an hour later, when his phone buzzes with a new email from Derek—the only email he’s ever gotten from Derek, not counting the company-wide newsletters and memos.

It’s a good thing Stiles finishes pouring his coffee before taking a look at it, because otherwise he probably would have scalded the skin of his hand off and spilled coffee all over his shoes and the break room floor in the process.

The subject line reads, “re: guess how my morning is going.”

Stiles freezes.

Blinks.

Closes out of his email app and opens it again.

The email is still there. It’s still titled "re: guess how my morning is going.” Stiles didn’t misread it.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t breathe for a solid five minutes while he lets the mingled surges of horror and adrenaline wash over him. It’s like one of those nightmares he used to have in high school where he’d stand up in class to give a presentation, only to look down and realize he was inexplicably buck-ass naked and everyone was laughing at him.

Finally he sucks in enough air to gasp, "Oh god. I’m dead. I’m so dead.” There’s no one else in the break room, but he still says it. It seems like the kind of momentous occasion that needs stating out loud to the universe.

Then he chugs his entire mug of coffee and speed-walks as casually as possible down the hall. A few people glance at him curiously from their cubicles, probably because he’s blushing so hard he looks like a tomato on the verge of a nervous breakdown, or possibly because no one runs in this office, anywhere, for any reason. Dignity is the name of the game. Stiles has none.

Stiles ignores them all in favor of diving into Lydia’s office and slamming the door shut behind him. He doesn’t care what work she might be doing; this is more important. This is a crisis.

She must get some sense of that from the look on his face, or maybe from the way he’s slumped back against the door and panting, because she doesn’t snap at him or even look that annoyed.

Stiles waves his phone at her and tries, in a rambling and adrenaline-fueled outburst, to explain. He’s not sure how much of it is actually anything bordering on English, but he thinks he ultimately conveys the important bits.

While he talks, Lydia rests her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers, and looks intrigued. “So,” she says when he finally runs out of breath, “what did Derek actually say?”

“I don’t know!” Stiles says, only a little hysterically.

“You didn’t read the email?“

Stiles shakes his head, sheepish. She’s undoubtedly judging him so hard right now, and he knows, okay. He knows.

Lydia lets out one of her trademark "why am I surrounded by incompetence” sighs and holds out her hand for his phone. Stiles meekly hands it over.

Lydia unlocks it without asking him for the passcode, which suggests either that Stiles needs to make his passwords stronger or that they spend entirely too much time together. Then she reads, and Stiles chews on his thumbnail and practices the breathing exercises his therapist taught him.

Lydia hands his phone back after only half a minute, her expression softening to something almost sympathetic. That’s when Stiles truly comprehends how truly, apocalyptically bad this is. Lydia never looks sympathetic.

“Well?” Stiles croaks.

“It just says he’d like you to come see him in his office as soon as you get a chance.”

Stiles has never heard anything so ominous.

“You shouldn’t keep him waiting,” she says gently. “Go get it over with, and while you’re doing that, I’ll write you a glowing recommendation letter.”

A recommendation letter. To take with him when he gets fired. Oh god.

*

When Stiles edges into Derek’s office, Derek is standing over by the window. He looks stunning as usual, tailored suit perfectly accenting the powerful lines of his body, but his ears are kind of pink. He’s got out a bottle of wine and two glasses on a little trolley table; he must have an important meeting with a big client later today. Stiles will probably never find out about it, though, seeing as he’s about to get fired and all.

“Stiles,” Derek nods.

Stiles would reply, but he’s afraid nothing will come out but an unmanly squeak, so instead he just focuses on perching on the edge of the nearest chair. He’s never actually been in Derek’s office before. It’s very Derek; it reminds him of the woods, lots of earth tones and accents of green. If not for the circumstances, Stiles would probably find it calming. As it is, he’s not sure he would find anything calming right now, except maybe a Xanax.

“Do you know why I called you in here?“ Derek asks.

Oh god, does he have to say it out loud? It’s not like they don’t both know already. Stiles opens his mouth, and no words come out. His mind is one long internal scream. All he can do is clutch the arms of his chair and watch as Derek uncorks the wine and starts pouring it into the first glass with intimidating casualness. He looks like he’s not mad at all. It’s terrifying.

Finally Stiles manages to force the words out. “Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.”

Derek stops pouring wine into the second glass. “Accidentally?”

“Yes!” Stiles says, latching onto that word like a lifeline. Is it even legal to fire someone for an accident? Well. Probably yes, if it results in somebody’s arm getting lopped off or something, but a dick pic isn’t quite on that level. Stiles hopes so, anyway. “And it wasn’t even my dick!”

Derek puts down the bottle of wine completely. “So… your boyfriend’s…?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t have one.”

“So you’re saying you sent me porn.”

Stiles groans and drops his head to his hands. He can’t look at Derek right now; he’s already reached maximum mortification levels. “No, I, um, so the thing is, I have Lydia Martin down in my email contacts as ‘Divine Goddess,’ which alphabetically puts her next to you, so I accidentally emailed the dick pic to you when I meant to email it to her, and before you say anything, I know I’m not supposed to send explicit materials over the company email and I swear it won’t happen again.” Assuming Stiles ever gets another chance to use his company email, that is, but he’s not going to be the one to point that out.

There’s a long silence, and Stiles risks a peek up through his fingers. Derek is frowning at him, but not like he’s angry. More like he’s confused. “Isn’t Lydia married? To a woman?”

That makes Stiles forget for a moment about being embarrassed. He sits up straight, flailing his hands in a chopping motion. “Whoa, no, it’s definitely not like that. It’s not a flirting thing. We’re just friends, and you’re right, she and Allison are very happily married and I’d never do anything to get between that. Ever. It’s just, she set me up for an online dating profile recently and I kind of hate it because I keep getting dick pics, so that pic you saw was like, like a status update. Like, 'Look how terribly this is going, I hate all of these dudes sending me dick pics because none of them are you'—”

Shit. He bites his tongue so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t taste blood, because nope, what the fuck, that was not supposed to be a part of this conversation, and now Derek’s grip on the neck of the wine bottle has gone white-knuckled and he’s just staring at Stiles, all deer-in-the-headlights.

Not for the first time in his life, or even the hundredth, Stiles wishes he had the power to rewind the last ten or so seconds of what just happened and start over. Unfortunately, no such luck.

“Just to clarify, I didn’t mean to imply that I want you to send me a pic of your dick,” Stiles blurts. “I just meant in a, um, a purely romantic sense, no one on that app is as good as… yeah.” Stiles trails off because Derek’s eyes are continuing to widen, and that’s probably not good. “Oh god, I’m making this worse. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

Derek still doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s an interrogation tactic or maybe (probably) he’s just in shock.

Either way, Stiles feels compelled to break the silence. “Are you going to fire me?” he asks tentatively, after what feels like the longest and most awkward minute of his life to date.

Derek finally blinks and relaxes his death-grip on the wine bottle. “I’d be crazy to fire you. You’re one of my best employees.”

“Except for the whole dick pic thing,” Stiles points out, risking a smile, and Derek smiles back. Stiles feels a little of the oh-god-I’m-about-to-get-fired tension leave him, and in its place the usual oh-god-I’m-in-the-presence-of-Derek-Hale tension starts creeping back in. That’s a lot more familiar, and a lot more exciting.

“Oh, I don’t know, I didn’t…” Derek starts, looking away out the window and then nervously meeting Stiles’ eyes. “I didn’t mind the dick pic thing so much. Not when it was from you.”

It’s Stiles’ turn to stare in shock.

Derek spins jerkily on his heel and picks up one of the wine glasses and starts chugging it down, and okay. Maybe Stiles isn’t the only one who’s pretty nervous right now. That thought makes Stiles a whole lot less nervous, and he stands up and moves around the desk while it lasts. Derek turns his head a little. Stiles reaches up and takes the glass away and sets it down on the table.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— It’s not professional—” Derek starts.

“I would send you a picture of my dick if you asked,” Stiles blurts, and it feels like one of the bravest and most romantic things he’s ever said.

“I would send you one, too,” Derek says, blushing furiously.

That basically shreds the last bit of Stiles’ self-control. He grabs Derek’s fancy silk tie and tugs, and, before he can second-guess it, kisses Derek Hale the way he deserves to be kissed, thoroughly and so enthusiastically that Derek ends up sinking back to lean against his desk like his knees just won’t hold him up anymore.

“So, just to clarify,” Stiles pants, resting a hand on Derek’s chest and thrilling that he can do that now, “I’m definitely not fired.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls him back in.

(end)

[fraggle-batches]

Because these are fun

1:Full name: Not comfortable sharing that

2:Zodiac sign: Libra 

3:3 fears: ladders, loneliness

4:3 things I love: my cats and boyfriend and laptop and dogs

5:4 turn on’s: tattoos, good hair, smoking, choking, hickeys

6:4 turn off’s: trump supporters

7:My best friend: my boyfriend

8:Sexual orientation: pansexual

9:My best first date: went to a concert (styg, stray from the path, knocked loose), was soo much fun, and also my first concert with a s/o

10:How tall am I: 5′7

11:What do I miss: my nana, being confident in myself and those around me

12:What time was I born? like 5:30 am 

13:Favorite color? grey

14:Do I have a crush? on my boyfriend, and cole sprouse

15:Favorite quote? “

16:Favorite place? Algonquin park

17:Favorite food? Pizza

18:Do I use sarcasm? Never

19:What am I listening to right now? Flaked Season 2 on Netflix

20:First thing I notice in new person? Shoes, hair, actions

21:Shoe size? Women’s 9.5, Mens 8.5

22:Eye color? Shit brown :))

23:Hair color? Naturally: Brown, Currently: Blonde, Previously: Pink

24: Favorite style of clothing? Uhm idk like casual/skate/dude clothes

25:Ever done a prank call? When I was like 11, but i grew tf up

26:What color of underwear I’m wearing now? I’m not..

27:Meaning behind my URL? Lord of the Rings (on a comedy video)

28:Favorite movie? ^

29:Favorite song? 

30:Favorite band? Don’t know, either The Wonder Years, Pink Floyd, The Tragically Hip

31:How I feel right now? Kinda shitty

32:Someone I love. Aaron

33:My current relationship status. In a relationship, one year at the end of the month.

34:My relationship with my parents. Was pretty fucked up for a while, I got kicked out and shit but now we’re civil and they buy me stuff to suck up for the shit they put me through/

35:Favorite holiday. 

36:Tattoos and piercing I have. I have my nose pierced, three 18g holes p/ear and one 10mm hole p ear.

37:Tattoos and piercing I want. I want to get a second nose piercing, maybe a septum, and my 10mm holes are going up to 22mm as we speak, I also intend to get an assload of tattoos when I’m no longer broke.

38:The reason I joined Tumblr. Joined it when I was like 12.. so I don’t know, just because it was ANOTHER form of social media for me to have.

39:Do I and my last ex hate each other? I hate him because he’s a rapist piece of shit and I’m sure he doesn’t even think of me so.

40:Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night” texts? No.

41:Have I ever kissed the last person I texted? Idek who the last person I texted was.

42:When did I last hold hands? Last night

43:How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? Depends what my hairs like, if it’s good, then 15 mins, if it’s shit then 35mins.

44:Have I shaved my legs in the past three days? Yeah

45: Where am I right now? On the couch at my boyfriends grandparents.

46:If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me? Maybe my boyfriend, maybe a nurse 

47:Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? LOUD

48:Do I live with my Mom and Dad? No

49:Am I excited for anything? I’m going to see Roger Waters in October and I’m moving in 1-3 months.

50:Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? My boyfriend.

51:How often do I wear a fake smile? Often.

52:When was the last time I hugged someone? Earlier today I think

53:What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me? I’d fucking leave him and move alone and go back to fucking instead of dating (other people obv)

54:Is there anyone I trust even though I should not? Maybe

55:What is something I disliked about today? Got into a couple pissing matches with the boy.

56:If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Gord Downie

57:What do I think about most? The amount of debt I’m in

58:What’s my strangest talent? Licking my nose maybe?

59:Do I have any strange phobias? I don’t know..

60:Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind all the way

61:What was the last lie I told? “I don’t want anything to eat rn”

62:Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? NEITHER

63:Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Ghosts: no. Spirits: Yes. Aliens: no, Extra-terrestrial life on another planet potentially in a different solar system: Yes.

64:Do I believe in magic? No

65:Do I believe in luck? I don’t know

66:What’s the weather like right now? Shitty, cloudy, cold, and dark

67:What was the last book I’ve read? The Handbook of Human Sexuality

68:Do I like the smell of gasoline? Uhh yeah

69:Do I have any nicknames? -----

70:What was the worst injury I’ve ever had? Probably when I fractured my skull as a kid. Or the two times I broke my clavicle in the SAME spot like 3 years apart lmao.

71:Do I spend money or save it? I’m a compulsive spender

72:Can I touch my nose with a tongue? Yep

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feet from me? I don’t think so

74:Favorite animal? Elephant maybe

75:What was I doing last night at 12 AM? Same thing as I’m doing now basically... fuck all

76:What do I think Satan’s last name is? He doesn’t have one/exist

77:What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? I believe by Stevie Wonder

78:How can you win my heart? Be a decent person and show the fucking world that I’m yours and you’re mine.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone? “fuck all you cunts from my hometown”

80:What is my favorite word? cunt

81:My top 5 blogs on tumblr? nah

82:If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? “stop polluting, kill trump, learn how to give a girl good head, end world hunger, adopt dont shop, support everyone regardless, cherish each other”

83:Do I have any relatives in jail? I don’t think so, but maybe

84:I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power? To be able to like pause life and be the only one who isn’t paused but I don’t age on pause so it’s chill. Or to turn off my bad emotions whenever I want

85:What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? I don’t know, I;m pretty open

86:What is my current desktop picture? My dog 

87:Had sex? Daily

88:Bought condoms? Hate them, but yeah

89:Gotten pregnant? No

90:Failed a class? Yeah

91:Kissed a boy? Yeah

92:Kissed a girl? Yeah

93:Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Yeah

94:Had job? Yeah

95:Left the house without my wallet? The worst!!

96:Bullied someone on the Internet? No... well maybe this one stupid piece of shit that raped my friend, posted her nude pics on a porn website and harasses her to this day. But I think that’s with warrant to bully so idc

97:Had sex in public? In a few places...

98:Played on a sports team? Other than school, no

99:Smoked weed? Daily

100:Did drugs? some

101:Smoked cigarettes? Yep

102:Drank alcohol? Yep

103:Am I a vegetarian/vegan? Used to be 

104:Been overweight? Currently am

105:Been underweight? Yep

106:Been to a wedding? Yep

107:Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Most of the time

108:Watched TV for 5 hours straight? Yep

109:Been outside my home country? Yep

110:Gotten my heart broken? Sort of

111:Been to a professional sports game? No

112:Broken a bone? Skull, elbow, clavicle x 2, wrist x3, most of my toes, both my thumbs, my left ring finger, my ankle, and foot.

113:Cut myself? Used to

114:Been to prom? Fuck prom

115:Been in airplane? Yep

 116: Fly by helicopter? No

117:What concerts have I been to? To name a few (not even close to 1/4 of them: The wonder Years x4, Moose Blood x2, Neck Deep, Real Friends x3, Modern Baseball x3, Knocked Loose, Stick to Your Guns, etc...

118:Had a crush on someone of the same sex? Yep

119:Learned another language? Started to learn german, dropped it. Spoke some french but I’m rusty.

120:Wore make up? Most days

121:Lost my virginity before I was 18? Way before I was 18

122:Had oral sex? Yeah

123:Dyed my hair? Every few months for the last like 4-5 years

124:Voted in a presidential election? Not yet.. 2019 here I come

125:Rode in an ambulance? No

126:Had a surgery? Small one

127:Met someone famous? A few people.. Dan Campbell from the Wonder Years being one of them

128:Stalked someone on a social network? In an innocent-ish “what the fuck is my boyfriend doing liking your slutty pics” stalking

129:Peed outside? Yep

130:Been fishing? Yep

131:Helped with charity? Yep

132:Been rejected by a crush? No

133:Broken a mirror? Yep

134:What do I want for birthday? A camera

135:How many kids do I want and what will be their names? 2-3. Nora, Avalyn, and idk maybe Declan, Jax, Quinn?

136:Was I named after anyone? No

137:Do I like my handwriting? Sometimes

138:What was my favorite toy as a child? Pogs, Pokemon Cards, Idk I mostly read books

139:Favorite TV Show? Shameless is lit

140:Where do I want to live when older? I don;t know yet, used to be Alaska but the US is fucked rn

141:Play any musical instrument? A little piano, tried guitar

142:One of my scars, how did I get it? one on my hand is shaped like a dick.. i stuck my hand in a fire to get a cigarette that dropped when i was drunk and burned the fuck outta my hand, when it scarred the center got prominent, and dick shaped

143:Favorite pizza topping? Bacon

144:Am I afraid of the dark? No

145:Am I afraid of heights? A little

146:Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? Yeah, I’ve been caught sneaking out and smoking pot and getting drunk when I was supposedly studying or having a quiet movie night in

147:Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? All the time

148:What I’m really bad at. Life, keeping my temper in check

149:What my greatest achievements are. I graduated high school, and got into college and university

150:The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me. “fat homewrecking bitch”.. but it wasn’t the truth

151:What I’d do if I won in a lottery. Pay off my debt and adopt a load of animals in need

152:What do I like about myself? I got some nice eyelashes, and a nice rack

153:My closest Tumblr friend. ------

154:Something I fantasies about. Cole Sprouse 

155:Any question you’d like -------

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

Lucas would 100% fight cuddles, but secretly love it. Yes. Give me attention. Give me love. But not in public, also I WILL shove your clingy ass to the floor if someone comes in. Gotta reputation to uphold. But ahhh later, k?

I am so down for this headcanon, Anon. In fact, I got a bit inspired and wrote a little one-shot for this. Hopefully, someone gets a kick out of reading it as much as I did writing it.

Zoe didn’t spy on Lucas all that much, not after that one summer in ‘09 when she found out that her older brother liked to masturbate to German, humiliation porn…the results of which hadn’t been her proudest moment. Probably shouldn’t have thrown a stack of VHS’s at his pale, shamed face until he’d caught an edge of one naked tape in the temple and started bleeding. The way she’d handled that night may have ended up giving him a complexion he probably didn’t deserve, but alas, she’d kept her nose out of his business after that. At least she’d apologized for it the next day, much to both of their embarrassment.

This time was different, though. Lucas, at the ripe age of twenty-seven, had his first girl over…he’d snuck her in when the house had gone quiet after dinner and the only way Zoe knew about it was because she’d forgotten to water the ferns outside the trailer and had gotten a quick look behind the crack of her door as Lucas was inputting the codes on his ‘Fortress of Solitude’, with the chick and her tight ass beside him; hands in her pockets.

Drop the fucking mic! - a real live, not-blown-up-with-plastic-skin girl?!

Zoe couldn’t believe it. What sorta bet had this chick lost?

No one in their right minds would have wanted to spend a second alone with that creep and yet Zoe had sat in her trailer all night waiting for the door of the barn to swing open, signaling that the girl was leaving…or that Lucas was disposing of a corpse. It sounded funny at the time, but after several hours Zoe got worried; a curious, concerning type of worry for her brother and the poor girl he’d brought home under the cover of darkness

She threw on a jacket, zipped it up to her chin and dragged the rusted crowbar from under her bed before bracing the cold, ready to crack open the second-floor vent and bypass that stupid lockdown he had on the front door. All the cacophony of bugs and swamp frogs had died down last week thanks to the cold air, but fat bats were fluttering overhead as Zoe stepped carefully across the backyard. A light upstairs on the main house was still on - her parent’s room. Her nose wrinkled, knowing what a light on after midnight meant. It was mighty dandy that her Mama and Daddy still liked each other like that, but hell…was everyone getting laid but her in this damn place?

Don’t even go there; she told herself, ignoring the pervasive image of her family members fornicating. Gross. A stray moan from somewhere on the property made her stop and grimace. Double-gross.

It must have been over a year since she’d last snuck into Lucas’ hidey-hole, and the last time had been to steal her VHS player back. She hadn’t run into him then, but now, as she swung the vent open on it’s screaming hinges, she wondered what the fuck she was going to do if she saw somethin’ illegal going on. Call the cops? - on her own brother? No, she didn’t think he was actually capable of anything serious like rape or murder…even if he was probably the kinda guy that got off on that shit. Trying not to think too much about what she was stepping into, Zoe shoved her legs through the opening and slid down the metal wall with nary a sound. Living a life with the kinda family she had at least made her good at sneaking around like this.

Rarely did she get caught.

There was a vibrating pulse under her feet and the distant sound of…what - was that her ‘Black Keys’ CD?

That fuck-face…she’d been wondering where that had run off too. Lucas and his sticky fingers. It wasn’t something he’d have ever listened too. It didn’t have enough gutter bass to it for his liking, so it must have been something for the girl which only peaked her curiosity all the more. If she liked the ‘Keys,’ she couldn’t have been that bad…right?

His door was cracked, casting a thin, widening triangle of light over the dusty concrete floors. Zoe could hear a couple of grunts; male grunts…not overtly sexual but it still made her pause and frown, wondering if this was worth the possibility of seeing her gross brother in a compromising situation again.

‘Knock it off will ya?!’

That snarl was her brother alright; Lucas with a stick up his ass, but the short, female giggle that followed it only proposed more questions. What the hell was going on behind that door that would leave Lucas as the one complaining?

Zoe always had thought he was one of those self-hating gay guys, trying to cover up their own hangups with body language that suggested he had coal turning to diamonds up his ass. Ugh, bad thoughts again. She needed to stop that before her dinner of pork chops and collard greens came back up.

Through the cheap door and a sweet drum solo, Zoe heard Lucas emit a long, defeated growl. Her brows pinched, and against her better judgment, she took a few soft steps towards the door.

Thankfully Lucas hadn’t changed the layout of his shithole since the last time she’d ‘visited.’ Everything was where it’d been when she’d busted the door down and ripped her VHS outta his system a year ago…except he’d apparently bought a new player since then. The TV on the floor flickered that skeleton army scene from ‘Jason and the Argonauts’ on mute…highlighting the baffling sight of Lucas with a red, frozen face and that cute girl wrapped around him; arms and all. The chick was practically glued to him with her face buried in his neck and rubbing her nose into folds of his hood as he grumbled.

It was…kinda cute, actually.

Zoe watched her brother deflated under the forced affection; saw his mouth twitch at the corners, smiling just before the girl lifted her face up and gave his hard jawline a wet raspberry. Lucas jumped, arms trapped at his sides and cursed over the music, throwing himself back into the sofa cushions. The girl fell with him, laying over his body in a pair of tight jean shorts and a tank top with some band’s logo printed in white on the back - it looked like a goat man with a huge cock…but Zoe couldn’t tell for sure.

“Why ya gotta be such ah’ clingy bitch all tha’ damn time…” Lucas hollered, wiggling around her embrace until she laughed, making him go red again; brows up. Zoe watched with a tight mouth as the girl leaned in and gave her brother’s nose a quick kiss, only to shove her head up under his chin and squeeze him all the tighter.

“Don’t play coy, Lucas,” she said into his chest - somehow Zoe could make out the words over the din of music, “I know you like this.” - and as if to prove her point Zoe had the skinny view through the door crack of this crazy chick as she rolled her hips down into her brother’s crotch. Zoe could appreciate the female form, hell…she’d been with a couple of ‘em before, and she had to admit the girl had a nice ass as it clenched while her hips canted downwards.

“…shit…c-can ya’ do that again?” Lucas asked, sounding so small and pathetic and oh-shit, Zoe had always thought he was, but now she knew for sure that her older brother was still a green- virgin! Unable to choke it down, Zoe laughed without a filter - loud and unrelenting and not giving a shit that she’d blown her position. Another part of her was just relieved the whole thing she’d been worried about was all around as innocent as it could be - too innocent for a guy on the ass end of his twenties.

“Shit!” Zoe heard Lucas shout as her eyes squeezed shut under a greater heave of laughter.

It was funny! - how could she not swing the door open and watch, with even greater relish, as Lucas sat up and toss his girlfriend on the floor? The girl fell off almost gracefully, gasping hard before settling back on her elbows; almost as if she’d been kicked off a dozen times already and knew how to drop and roll like a pro by now. That also, in of itself was hilarious.

Zoe clutched her stomach and choked on another fit of laughter while Lucas raised his knees up, trying to hide the obvious boner in his pants.

That high-tension look was back in place, like a lock latching back. Zoe would feel guilty for fucking up a rare moment for him later that night, but right then she was enjoying the look of embarrassed hatred on his face while his ‘girlfriend’ stared over at her with wide, green eyes and a flushed face. Hell…if and when she was done with her stupid brother Zoe might try and hit that, but anyone weird enough to go for someone like Lucas probably had bigger problems than he did.

There, on the floor, clearing away the shocked expression, the girl sat up on her knees and smiled, “Y-you must be Zoe…bad circumstances but it’s ah’ pleasure to meet ya, I’m-”

“She’s ‘Jus’ Leaving,‘” Lucas butted in, folding his arms over his lap; head on his shoulders with a cast-down expression under the hood. He looked like someone had stolen his ice cream cone or something, which cut through Zoe’s mean pleasure enough to remind her off the ol’ days when they were just kids, shitty and inseparable.

Yeah, Zoe felt guilty about it, but to ‘Jus’ Leaving’s’ credit, she didn’t take it personally. There was something real fucked up about a girl that could lean in and kiss a guy’s cheek who’d just thrown them off onto the floor, who then proceeded to be a dick about it…

Zoe wasn’t allowed to walk the girl out, but Lucas shoved her shoulder once they were outside and dug his fingers into his ‘girlfriend's’ arm, pulling them across the yard without a single word. The chick gave a short wave Zoe’s way, which she returned with a baffled look no doubt. The whole thing was like somethin’ out of ‘The Twilight Zone’…parallel dimensions…or Stockholm syndrome, maybe. Lucas couldn’t have gotten someone that understanding and hot otherwise.

[homeschoolbase]

I want to do online school but my mum is completely against it.

I want to do online school but my mum is completely against it.

So to TRY and keep it short i'm a 13 year old male, and basically i'm a social outcast! :)

​

Yeah, may seem like staying in school will benefit me so i make friends, but that isn't going to work...

I've got social anxiety, and around year 7 i was basically a looser if i'm being completely honest, i hung out with a single other friend, who was a massive fat kid, who used to get bullied. And i'm guessing that's what ruined me? Also i'm ugly and kind of fat but not morbidly obese, just got a bit of a stomach. My social anxiety basically made me have terrible interactions with most people i was introduced to which has been cemented at this point. In my current year i started a youtube channel a year later when i uploaded on it again a random twat i told about my channel a WHOLE YEAR AGO spread the video, it was quite obvious since they said it was in whatsapp groups that they were making fun of me, i mean they even showed my teacher for gods sake. I also hate PE, and not because i hate the work. I enjoy doing HIIT workouts actually, but with things such as football and rugby i fucking hate it. So bloody stupid, and embarassing.

Thanks to lockdown i've had time to chill out, and i've actually started sorting myself out. I've started dieting and i've been looking into business. This may sound like a child just dreaming big, when in reality their going to earn as many pounds as their dick size in ft a year but i seriously composed an idea. I'm going to invest in breeding, which may sound a bit... Iffy, but it's profit and it's not going to be inhumane. I want to invest my christmas and birthday money in a breeder dog, then i'll be earning around 4-8k a year approx. I first estimated i could earn around 30k, but honestly i want to keep it realistic. I'll then invest that into another set of assets, doubling revenue, then i plan to breed reptiles. By the time i'm done with collage or university i'll be able to pay everything off straight away, assuming it works out.

Point is ,and i understand this may have seemed stupid and probably is honestly, if i'm feeling so much more positive from not being at school, and still not missing social interaction, i feel like i should be taking online classes, for my own sake. I'm not saying that i should cower from my problems, because it'll get worse. But obviously i don't do well in those circumstances, and i'd be much happier in social situations if there wasn't as much of a pressure to perform to the social normality.

(This is skippable, as if the rest wasn't...) About the mum, she completely opposes the idea. I told her all the benefits for me and possibly for her, and after deflecting all her claims she still couldn't accept defeat, claiming the reason i couldn't do online school was "because you can't" which is absolute bullshit. Obviously i wanted a real answer, so after a couple days while she was drunk i squished it out of her, because i'm a lonely fuck and retarded. Yeahhh... My mums a bitch... Side note, is it mean for your mum to leave you to wrestle a german shepherd outside alone while you bang on the window aggressively because you can't open the door since you are being attacked by a german shepherd and jack russel? And then when you eventually walk in and ask "why didn't you help me" she replies "i didnt want to get fur on my trousers" so i reply "so your trousers are more important to you then me getting mauled" and she replies "yes"...

Fuck, i just unloaded. This feels more like a shitpost if anything, maybe that's why she always shows a lack of support for me. She's agreed to the business idea, but when i told her i'd be able to pay off student loans she didn't show any support, but she seems keen on the idea she might be getting something...

Nevermind, only reason i'm posting at this point is because it took to long to write, anyways cya. (IF YOU SEE THIS BEFORE YOU READ DON'T BOTHER READING THIS IT'S BULLSHIT AND NOT WORTH YOUR TIME :))

[art-now-germany]

From last exhibition entitled: ... through thick and thin - (Woman Portraits / Nude Collection Original)., Igor Bajenov

Content:From last exhibition entitled: ... through thick and thin - (Woman Portraits / Nude Collection Original). Read On one side Page 1 - Dick's beautiful! Page 2 - Search with Malhafa DIE ZEIT: Woman Wittler, in your book Who wants to be beautiful must travel, enter yes basically a classic grand tour. They fly to Mauritania, in a country that was completely unknown to you before. And you want to find out why there fat women are considered particularly beautiful. If you changed the trip? Do you see yourself in a different light? Tine Wittler: On a personal level has given me this experience a new self-image as a woman. In Mauritania, the following applies: You're a woman, so you're beautiful. That is irrefutable. If you have an alleged flaw, not pflegst you or a torn garment to have, it does not mean that you're not beautiful. The Mauritanians say then: You can not see so well thy beauty. TIME: The view is more generous? Wittler: The entire perception is different than ours, where only the perfect is considered beautiful. I went with my trip to the question of whether it is to the way we deal here with the theme Beauty alternatives. That's why I went for five weeks in the Mauritanian capital Nouakchott and have spoken to many people. And I came across this different perspective. Tine Wittler born in 1973, was known by the RTL facility Show Einsatz in 4 walls. For her book Who wants to be beautiful, must travel they put on the Malhafa, Mauritania traditional cloth robe TIME: You also pleased that in Mauritania many girls and women are fattened downright with camel milk or medicines to make them as quickly as possible to gain weight and have more chances on the marriage market write. For research purposes They even even visited one of these traditional Mäster interior and can infuse the gaveuse three liters of high-calorie within four hours camel milk ... Wittler: However - and I am sick. Camel milk has a different protein structure than cow's milk. My immune system overreacted and started on my return, to attack my vessels. No beautiful story. In Mauritania, women are sick of this practice, and luckily this tradition is on the decline. However, it is unfortunately increasingly replaced by a variant: Some women are now taking a medication, which are actually intended for cattle fattening, to be increasing. For people that is very dangerous. TIME: Sounds no longer as generous. Wittler: What women - even under the pressure of other women - to do to comply with an ideal of beauty, here is how there are often self-destructive madness. TIME: How did the Mauritanians react to the curious German? Wittler: You were happy about the interest. I was almost everywhere looked with curiosity and openness and with the hint of a smile. And not because I'm around! But because I was wearing the Malhafa as blond European woman, the traditional cloth robe. content Read On one side Page 1 - Dick's beautiful! Page 2 - Search with Malhafa TIME: Did you want to attract attention by using your body less? The looks on the other can make a pretty hard traveling Sometimes. Wittler: staring I will anyway. That is the normal case for me. Learning to bear the Malhafa, was an important part of the research for me. The fact that a European woman to Mauritania comes and does this trouble, was new for the locals. Because that's not so easy. You have to move quite differently, so that up to five meters long panel will not slip. In Mauritania, it says: If a very slender woman attracts, it looks as if you had a piece of cloth wrapped around a toothpick. Only exuberant shapes bring this garment to vibrate. That is the secret of the matter. The women have in a certain way to go. And this type also has something erotic. At the same time, however, is hidden from view and does not show any skin. TIME: What else have you experienced in this world turned upside down? Tine Wittler Wittler: After I started wearing the Malhafa, I got churning marriage proposals. Thus, the Mauritanian men signaled their interest in a woman. Moreover, many doors have opened to me. And I was able to perform with different people talking about why they find fat women beautiful. Time and? What is the reason? Wittler: It is all about that round shapes are a sign of prosperity, of good family and generosity. And also that he ought to know a woman immediately as such. This is done precisely, among other things through the corners. TIME: One important aspect of both of the large one as well as the travel is completely missing in your book: you tell little of what you have eaten in Mauritania and how you find it tasty. Does this have anything to do with it, that we want to be marketed as fat women in no case with food in conjunction? Wittler: Interesting point. This is me not even noticed. I have just experienced on this trip so much that the food has not played a major role. Lunch we mostly brought us a couscous, and that was it. Plenty of choice of food, there was not anyway. TIME: You write that they had never before traveled a lot. These modified experimental arrangement in Mauritania ... Wittler: modified experimental arrangement! I like that. That hits the nail on the head! If you can look at life so, then everything is good. Then perhaps no longer rubs you on so much under the pressure of ideals. It's all a big experiment. And the leaves are changing. TIME: So has under the impact of travel also changes your view on our slimming dictation? Wittler: Yes. I was once again clearly stuck which capitalist interests behind our Western ideal of beauty. You can only make coal with people who are unhappy and who think that there is something to buy, what helps it. When it came to the usual in our devaluation of other people because of their appearance, my girlfriend Mauritanian Wafa said something very clever. She said Tine, criticism you should only take from people who of their own lives well. They are not many. And interestingly enough, very few of them will criticize you because of your externals. TIME: Can we say that you are with the subject being fat after this trip through? Wittler: Yes, I can say clearly.

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[teachanarchy]

In its four decades, punk has meant many different things to many different people. Its relationship to fascism, the specter of which has stopped rattling its chains from history books and re-appeared in the West, is one of the most complicated examples of how aesthetics and philosophy can appeal to both anti-authoritarian and deeply repressive positions. You can find it in punk’s beginnings, as a reaction to the cultural forces of generations prior, the long shadow of World War II among them. Ron Asheton of the Stooges collected and wore Nazi memorabilia to signify his bond with his father, a former Marine Corps pilot. Sid Vicious’ swastika was a fuck-you to his parents’ generation, and largely orchestrated by the (Jewish) Malcolm McLaren. And the electric eels just wanted to piss everyone off equally.

Look no further than the formation of Rock Against Racism (RAR) for a sub-story that contextualizes just how thin the line can be when it comes to manipulating fascist symbolism. In response to a growing National Front presence in England during the mid-’70s, RAR united rock and reggae subcultures (and more importantly, black and white folks). The organization was closely affiliated with the Anti-Nazi League, a public effort of the Trotskyist Socialist Workers Party; the strict party line embedded in its core philosophy felt suffocating to some. In the case of peace-punk band Crisis, a RAR favorite, bassist Tony Wakeford (who had been a Socialist Workers Party member) and guitarist Douglas Pearce (who had been involved with the International Marxist Group) began to feel so alienated that they formally split from RAR. Wakeford and Pearce went on to form neofolk group Death in June, which began its career playing with the aesthetics of paramilitary fascism (Nazism in particular) as satire—stances that became much muddier from there. Wakeford got the boot from the group in 1984 for his relationship at that time with the National Front, which lasted less than a year; these days, for his part, he is publicly critical of the far right. But Pearce, who keeps Death in June active still, continues to court controversy.

Similarly, the splintering of both the UK and U.S. labor movements, under pressure from Thatcher and Reagan during their tenures, brought about both racist skinheads and skinheads who reacted by speaking out against racism. All this ongoing friction and subsequent reaction, embedded in punk’s formation and carried through along multiple veins to the present, has also created some of the best and most relevant music to directly critique fascism in its many iterations. Here, we present just a few, shying away from many of the more obvious and well-known choices here (Dead Kennedys’ “Nazi Punks Fuck Off,” Oi Polloi’s “Bash the Fash,” etc.)

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Johannesburg, South Africa, 1977: National Wake, “International News”

Following the 1976 Soweto uprising, in which students protesting apartheid were murdered by state police, Ivan Kadey and brothers Gary and Punka Khoza did what countless others have done when feeling helpless and frustrated, in need of a voice: they started a punk band. They mixed Stooges-esque garage, the repurposed disco structures and acerbic political analysis of bands like the Pop Group and Gang of Four, two-tone ska, reggae, and African polyrhythms into one heady setlist. But more on the rowdy and raw hard-rock end of things, “International News” took aim at the role of the international media in perpetuating both apartheid and the atrocities of the Angolan War of Independence with sensationalistic reporting. Unsurprisingly, National Wake found themselves the subject of state police surveillance and censorship, making it difficult to secure spaces to play. The pressure eventually split the band apart, but they hadn’t been forgotten; preserved through tape trading and Kadey’s own record-keeping, their recorded material is now available in its original, uncensored condition thanks to Light in the Attic.

Belgium, 1977: Basta, “Abortus Vrij de Vrouw Beslist!”

Those who have never had their reproductive systems regulated by the government may wonder why a song about abortion rights appears on a list of anti-fascist punk songs; those who know the danger of electing Mike “Burial or Cremation for Aborted and Miscarried Fetuses” Pence to one of the highest offices in the land may not. This 7-inch was Basta’s only release, and one of the first Belgian punk releases of any sort. Beyond this significance, the song is incredibly catchy, with a saxophone line reminiscent of Lora Logic’s dissonant contributions to X-Ray Spex and Essential Logic, and a shouted chorus that was a common phrase at pro-choice protests (essentially meaning, “yes, abortion for women!”). Belgium was actually one of the last countries to legalize abortion (not until 1990!), which made Basta’s urgent-sounding record even more significant: the sleeve listed clinics where abortions could safely be obtained.

Rotterdam, Netherlands, 1978: The Rondos, “Which Side Will You Be On?”

The Rondos were Maoist punks, leftist militants who provoked everyone from the Dutch Communist CPN party to (closed-mindedly) Rastafarian culture to Crass, who held the Rondos at least partially responsible for the violence that often characterized Crass shows starting in 1979 (when the two bands played together) onward. From the Rondos’ own biography: “Were we really communists? We assented to it half mockingly and half seriously. In the beginning, our lyrics were non-political or generally ‘anti.’ Wayward, anyhow. Over time we became more serious about our communist image. More fanatical too, due to pressure from the outside.” They had their own magazine (Raket, or Rocket) and alternative bookshop (Raketbase), a hub for the early Dutch punk scene. “Which Side Will You Be On?” was an urgent pogo and a call to action to do something, rather than sitting around talking endlessly about strategy. One cannot, after all, fight fascism by words alone.

Austin, Texas, 1980: The Dicks, “The Dicks Hate the Police”

A blatantly Communist band fronted by an unapologetic fat gay man in Texas released their first single, in which said singer barked in the voice of a violent cop hell-bent on abusing his power against the marginalized... to impress his parents. The song contained few words and fewer chords, and yet, with an arch sneer, the singer—Gary Floyd, a genuine punk hero deserving of recognition beyond the underground—communicated the essence of state power deployed in its most wretched everyday form. “The Dicks Hate the Police” is, at least to this writer, one of the greatest songs of all time, punk or not. Innumerable covers—chief among them Mudhoney’s most famous one—support this theory.

Essex, England, 1980: Poison Girls, “Bully Boys”

Over 40 and differing from the traditionally attractive frontwoman archetype, Jewish refugee Vi Subversa found herself beloved by Crass and friends upon starting up her first punk band. Inspired by the wryness and hookiness of the Buzzcocks, Subversa brought a delicate balance of thoughtful consideration and pummeling ferocity to the burgeoning peace-punk movement. Her history of real-world activism also helped to accomplish some actual work against nuclear disarmament, among other causes. “Bully Boys” was a remarkably catchy little ditty, all buzzsaw guitars, throaty vocals, and punchy drums in service of implicating the role of machismo in National Front violence. The band said that the track, along with “The Bremen Song” (about the Holocaust), led to racist skinheads attacking them at gigs and at home. Subversa’s lyrics were less “the personal is political” in the sense of isolating her experiences as being characteristic of grander political trends, and more “the political is personal,” focusing on how political systems manifest themselves in everyday life.

East Berlin, 1983: Namenlos, “Nazis Wieder in Ostberlin”

It’s unsurprising that East Germans struggling through the stultified economic conditions of the state-controlled Soviet German Democratic Republic found the crudest impulses of anti-authoritarianism in punk aesthetics to be an effective way of voicing their protest—and that the government responded to them as a direct threat. State harassment, police beatings, and apartment raids were regular parts of punk life, forcing many street kids into churches for sanctuary, where they became politicized, mixing with varying civil rights and environmental activist groups who also needed that protected space to meet. Namenlos were among this newly, ferociously politicized breed, employing wiry rock’n’roll riffage and direct lyrics with appropriate seriousness given their environment. The government doubled down on state repression rather than loosening it, and “Nazis Wieder in Ostberlin” (“Nazis Again in East Berlin”) landed three members of Namenlos behind bars. They were held in jail for six months without full charges while being interrogated, and were eventually sentenced to 18 additional months in Stasi prison for their “anti-government lyrics.” Even public support for Namenlos could land punks in jail for months on end. And yet the fire started by mixing disenfranchised street kids and politically savvy strategists couldn’t be extinguished once it’d been set: an organized youth protest movement, punks included, was no small part of the political rebellion that eventually toppled the Berlin Wall.

San Pedro, California, 1984: Minutemen, “Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing”

So dig this big crux: Think of Mike Watt and D. Boon as the blue-collar socialist punk versions of Bert and Ernie. Friends since age 13, the duo’s oscillating heartbeat is what makes Minutemen so beloved and still relevant today. While the lyrics to this avant-garde punk classic are the least didactic on this list, they are no less direct than any others, and no less evocative (“Me, naked with textbook poems spout fountain against the Nazis”). How do we assert our politics through song, Boon asks, making sincerity a strength rather than a weakness. A crucial question for anyone who’s ever made an impassioned argument and thought, “I must look like a dork”—particularly at a time when neo-Nazis rely on chaotic disdain for anyone who cares too much as provocation meant to disarm.

Santiago, Chile, 1984: Los Pinochet Boys, “La Música del General/Esto Es Pinochet Boys”

At the most repressive point of the Pinochet dictatorship, Daniel Puente Encina formed an explicitly anti-fascist punk band with his friends and called it Pinochet Boys. Their first single? “Music of the General.” This was not the kind of punk danger most Americans are familiar with; it was not even a Green Room-type scenario. This was treason against a fascist state. With every show a secret, risking shut-down by military police, Pinochet Boys gigs were places for young, emerging activists to meet and strategize. The youth movement would become a crucial part of the revolution that led to the Chilean national plebiscite in 1988, a referendum that finally forced the Pinochet regime from power and paved the road for democracy. “This machine kills fascists,” indeed—though Encina and the other Boys were exiled in 1987. From a purely musical standpoint, the song was half classic sing-along punk-band-name-as-anthem and half bizarre, zippy new wave outer-space transmission, one of the weirdest and coolest earworms around. Even if it hadn’t played a historically documented and practical part in actually bringing down a 16-year dictatorship, it’d be worthy of inclusion here.

Mexico City, 1990: Massacre 68, “Sistema Podrido”

Named for those murdered in 1968 while peacefully protesting the repressive Díaz Ordaz government (as part of the Mexican Dirty War), Massacre 68 were fairly straightforward thrashers with lyrics bluntly critical of the government corruption and state violence surrounding them. In 1988, a rigged election declared the Institutional Revolutionary Party the new ruling party, though with phenomenally low voter turnout due to a “crashed” system—a cover that was later revealed to have been the result of corruption and burned ballots. Massacre 68 directly critiqued this election in “Sistema Podrido” (“Rotten System”), off their first LP, 1990’s No Estamos Conformes. These are perhaps the most ripping solos committed to a record about horrendously corrupt voter fraud. But stateside listeners didn’t get hip to Massacre 68 until L.A. label Huarache Records re-released their material in the early 2000s, right around the time documents were finally revealed detailing the Mexican government’s role in both the ’68 murders and the ’88 election fraud.