#BET HE WEARS SOCKS AND SANDALS SOMETIMES

[identity-theft-101]

@azulashengrottospiano 🫵

He looks like a sleazy local who cons you into buying cheaply made tourist stuff. (I want him carnally)

[lumilasi]

Finally finished Minerva’s dad. Decided to give him very “dad” outfits, and his past criminal get up. Figured since Kaspian’s glasses are his old ones, maybe Kas’ current outfit could be somewhat inspired by Vincent’s old one, at least with the green bits.

His bio below:

Full name: Vincent (Cormick)-Vasquez (doesn’t use his original surname)

Nickname: Vince, Soul Eater (past criminal nickname)

Sexuality: Straight

Height: 192 cm 

Notable relationships: Wife Livia, Daughter Minerva, adoptive/honorary son Kaspian

Role: Stay-at-home dad, former notorious underworld figure

Personality summary: He usually comes off laid back and like your average goofy and loving dad and husband. He’s pretty impulsive though, and likes to take matters in his own hands. Vincent doesn’t always think before he acts, hence Minerva often has to tell him “dad, no.” He’s fiercely loyal and protective of those close to him, to the point where his old more vicious, cruel and nasty self might peek out if he gets angered. He’s pretty perceptive despite coming off a tad air-headed, and is very much aware how much of a “horrible brat” he was when younger.

Aspect details: BASICS: Vincent is a very rare creature, in that he wields three highly powerful aspects. Normally you can only have one, or some rare cases two.

GENERAL: 

Frenzy: The most powerful form of anger based abilities, that allows him to transform into a dragon like creature, as well as summon literal storms of lightning and rain. Also makes him extremely fast, strong, and durable. Vincent-specific part is the appearance of his more dragonic form. The storm summoning is rare because frenzy is rare, but other people can have this Aspect too.

Desolation: A mental type of power that allows him to literally trap people into their own minds, making them lapse into a coma or turn brain-dead. It also enables him to use it in smaller extend, like helping someone quiet their thoughts if they’re struggling to focus/fall asleep. Vincent-specific detail is the fact he can cause this effect by just looking at the person.

Mania: Mania is his most dangerous power that earned him his nickname, as he can sap other people and being’s life force with it to heal himself and prolong his life, or alternatively give people extra energy, make plants grow and so on. usually this is done with touch, but Vincent-specific thing about this is the fact he can do it just by breathing and exhaling his breath.

FUN FACTS

Vincent is retired from all the underworld shenanigans and spends most of his days tending to his wife’s garden. 

He still has personality cults and other admirers, which his kids secretly try and defeat before they can reach and bother him. Sometimes they do reach him though, and well....that doesn’t usually end well for them.

Majority of the time he seems really harmless, and majority of folk don’t realize he was an infamous figure several decades ago.

He gave his old glasses to Kaspian during one beach-trip, where the boy had forgotten his sunglasses. He also allowed Kaspian to keep them, which he did because it was the first gift he ever got from his new adoptive dad.

Vincent never actually needed glasses per say; he only wore those to mask where he was looking when using his Desolation ability.

Vincent met his wife when he was kind of just wandering around, kind of lost and not knowing what to do with his life anymore as he was tired of his old ways.

He helped her deal with a situation with some loan sharks trying to trick her into selling her restaurant business, and worked there for a while before they got together

You can bet Vincent cried like a baby when his daughter was born

Sometimes his past self does still show up, as he can get quite vicious and cruel when he’s extremely angry. 

Vincent’s hair is the kind you just can’t tame; it will always be a horrible mess. The best he can do with it is the ponytail. Minerva has unfortunately inherited this trait, hence she tends to keep hers fairly short.

He wears a lot of plaid-patterned shirts, sweatpants and sandals - with or without socks depending on the weather. 

[sunshinesukuna]

bestfriend! kise ryota

pairing: kise ryota x reader

tw: slight bullying

a/n: calls everyone –cchi but is never called –cchi. kise–cchi we miss u :(

so sometimes when he’s lucky he gets free clothes from his modelling gigs, right?

and if you see one that you like, you bet that it’s going to end up in your closet about a week later.

he’s fine with it. he has too many clothes to deal with, what’s the harm?

speaking of clothes.

even though this boy has enough clothes to fill in a walk-in closet, and models from some of the best fashion designers in japan, this boy does not know how to dress. TT

he once went out wearing socks with sandals, and you just had to haul his ass back from the mall back to his house to choose another pair of shoes besides those god-awful lime socks that would give midorima a run for his money.

he has a tiktok—nope u can’t change my mind. 

drags you into making tiktok dances whether you like it or not.

kise will be dancing so enthusiastically in the front, but the second he turns back and sees that you’re doing the bare minimum, he just gives you a pout until you dance the right way.

has convinced you to throw it back. nuff said.

you stole a huge chunk of your food that he had spent so much time preparing at home, and he threatened to send the video to the entire school.

you guys look out for one another

he stands up for you when people badmouth you about being near him. 

one day he’s just chilling at the cafeteria, talking to you leisurely as you eat. a few tables down, he hears a gaggle of girls whispering his and your names. 

“isn’t that (y/n)? next to kise? wasn’t she with that guy earlier this week? wow, what a slut.”

“hey, (y/n), the science teacher told me to tell you that you needed to take your papers from her later,” he says.

once you’re out fo earshot, he makes his way over to the group of girls. 

some of them are giggling in delight at being noticed by the kise ryota, but none of them have any idea of what’s about to go down.

“i’ll turn every hot guy in this school against you if you ever say that again.” 

and vice versa too

you’d think that kise would have learned something from his years of being played by girls, but this guy...

he comes to you after he has his heart played again. both of you are content with you being his shoulder to cry on while you talk it out. 

you absolutely go to the basketball team after that and tell them, “tell your hot friends to stay away from her.”

he definitely helps you study, because as said by kise himself, his perfect copy works on— everything. 

he’s a fun teacher.

“ok (y/n) if you get a 95 on this practice test here, we’ll go out for ice cream later, my treat.”

but he pokes you when you’re in the middle of writing an essay or something. 

“hey.” poke. “(y/n).” poke. “(y/n).” poke. “earth to (y/n).”

this boy is so irritating when he wants something though.

he's totally a can’t live with him, can’t live without him bestie.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 12

Warnings: none

Tagging: @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​

Preparing to leave the house with five kids in tow is a full-time job all in itself. Bathing them after a long and active day at school, getting them dressed –which includes incessant bitching and moaning about the textures of clothes and how the tags are ‘too itchy’, having to actually put on socks and shoes-,  and giving them the usual list of warnings before even stepping out the front door. No arguing, no fighting, and no bad language. And by the time you manage to get to the front door, at least two have to go to the bathroom and another wants to change what they’re wearing.   This time it’s Millie; her self-described princess dress suddenly not ‘princessy enough’. Opting for one with more frills and more sparkles and way too much pink, then insisting on topping the look off with her well-worn light up Spiderman sandals.  Tyler had long ago learned to pick his battles, especially as a girl dad. Was suggesting nicer shoes really worth the epic diva style meltdown he’d have to endure? Especially when he’d rather be in flip flops or even bare foot himself?

“I honestly do not care,” he says, when she holds aloft the sandals with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Other parents would force their kids to comply; embarrassed by the mismatched lock. But he’s gotten so used to carting around boys dressed in superhero costumes –masks and all- that the stares and whispers of strangers don’t both him anymore. And fighting over shoes with a soon to be six-year-old is not the hill he wants to die on. “Do what you want.”  

For a brief moment –as he buckles the three oldest into the their car seats in the very back of their second, and much larger, vehicle, he muses about just how different his was now is compared to the one that he used to live. When he was drunk off of his practically twenty-four seven, numbing the pain, guilt, and grief with a potent combination of booze and pain meds.  Back in that little shack of his in the Outback, with nothing but a dog and a chicken to keep him company. When he was totally committed to the job and spending his days fighting to keep himself –and quite often someone else- alive in dangerous situations. When he was battered and bloody and sometimes on the brink of death. Now he’s proficient in changing diapers, fixing bottles, and making and packing school lunches.  A far cry from the old days.  And for a brief moment, the thought makes him feels sad; that his existence is nothing more than a mere shadow of what it used to be. That he’s gone from one extreme to the other.  And it shouldn’t; he’d made the conscious decision to give it all up. For his family. So he’d be able to hold his marriage together.  

And the sadness is replaced with guilt; that he’d miss the job while getting the opportunity to even have kids and watch them grow. A lot of guys in the job weren’t so lucky; they either never turned alive to their wives and kids, or their marriages completely disintegrated, and they never saw their children again. That’s his worst nightmare; things falling apart and either rarely getting to spend time with them, or not being able to see them at all.  Being a dad has given him something to take pride in; raising tiny humans that will hopefully one day grow up to be amazing big humans.  Decent adults with compassion and humility. Fiercely independent. Alarmingly intelligent. And it’s given him a chance to finally do it right.  He’d been an epic failure as a father with Austin; he’d been cowardly and selfish and would never truly forgive himself for it.  But he’d been given another chance; entrusted with helping bring five beautiful lives into the world.  And he’s determined not to fuck that up.

“I don’t wanna wear shoes!” TJ laments, and proceeds to use his toes to push his sneakers off one heel, then the other, letting the offending items fall to the floor of the SUV.

“Listen, mate. We’re not going to fight about this. If your mum says you wear shoes, you wear the shoes.”

“This is crap!” Tanner chimes in. “My feet are so hot! Like they’re gonna catch on fire!”

“No one’s feet are going to catch on fire,” Tyler assures him. “You’re wearing the thinnest socks possible. We get there, the shoes go back on. And how come you guys don’t have to wear normal pants?”  They’re clad in matching tan cargo shorts; one in a green and white stripped golf shirt, the other in blue and white.  Always insisting on matching in some way, despite the fact their parents have purposely dressing them differently from day one.  

“’Cause we’re only five!” Tanner huffs, as if he’s just been subjected to the dumbest question that’s ever been asked in the history of mankind.

“By the way,” Tyler says, as he finishes buckling Tanner into his seat. “I want my fifteen bucks back that you scammed me out of the other night.”

“I got that money fair and square,” his son argues. “I got you the info just like you asked.”

“Your mom gave me the info. Which technically means half of the money should go to her.”

“It’s not my fault that you fell for it, daddy. You should be smarter than that. You got totally played by a five-year-old.”

“He’s not wrong,” Esme says as she appears alongside of him, clutching Declan by the hand, the baby resting along her forearm. “You did fall for it.”

“You’re in on this together, aren’t you? You probably put him up to it. You’ve been teaching him some of the tricks of the trade. Getting him ready to follow in your footsteps. I bet he even split the money with you.”

“Please just put the kids in the car before we’re really late,” she implores, then stands on her tip toes to brush her lips against his. Which in turns prompts loud and dramatic gagging from all three of the older kids.

“Don’t do that!” TJ cries. “We don’t need any more babies in the house! Why can’t we have a puppy for a change? I don’t want any more sisters!”

“Well I don’t want any more brothers either,” Millie retorts, and sticks her tongue at him.

“Okay, don’t start.” Esme warns. “At least wait until we’re out of the driveway. And besides, it takes a lot more than that to get a baby brother or sister.”

“Like what?” Millie inquires.”

“Like none of your business,” Tyler replies as he tends to Declan, scooping him of the ground and settling him into his car seat. “Besides, there won’t be any more brothers or sisters. It’s not possible.”

“Can we get a dog then?” Tanner asks

“We already have a dog,” his mother reminds him.

“Let’s get another one!” Millie enthuses. “A puppy!”

“I have enough mouths to feed and barely any sanity left.”  Esme says, and passes the baby to her husband, who arches a brow and stares at her pointedly over the dog comment. “Not you too!”

“It’s not a bad idea. We’ve got the room. Inside and outside.”

“Please don’t encourage them. They won’t stop talking about it now. They’re going to ask a million times a day about getting a puppy and I don’t think my mental well-being can take it.”

“We’ll talk about it,” he says, then kisses her and shit the SUV door.  

“Oh, you think so do you,” she grins, then runs her hands across his shoulders and down his chest; smoothing out the wrinkles in his simple white dress shirt., the first three buttons undone and no tie; paired with dark washed jeans that fit ‘just right’. Beard still full but neatly trimmed, the product in his hair giving it that unruly ‘bed head’ look. “You clean up nice.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself.” he chides, and then places a hand on her hip and leans into her, pressing a kiss to her ear. “You look beautiful,” he praises, as his hand slides up the middle of her back. The dress is simple and modest; emerald green and off the shoulder, flaring out at the waist and just skimming the bottom of her knees.  

She’s still self-conscious about her post-baby body; she’d on twenty-five pounds and had damaged to drop fifteen of them seemingly overnight after Addie was born. She hates the extra weight that clings to her hips and gathers at her waist; despises the stretch marks that mar her skin. Yet to him they just make her even more beautiful; the signs left behind that she’s given him children.  There’s no woman in the world that could ever hold a candle to her. It stretches far beyond physical appearance. It’s her strength and her tenacity and the loyalty that that she’s always shown towards him and their kids. And it’s the way she looks at him; as if he’s the most incredible man on the planet even though there’s times he’s shown he’s anything but.

A slight blush creeps into her cheeks. Even after six and a half years of marriage she’s still not used to his random compliments. Mark had all but destroyed every ounce of self-esteem she’d ever had, so Tyler had taken it upon himself to help rebuilt it every chance he got. Whether it’s when she’d dressed up with her done and make up on, or when she’s worn down from lack sleep and her hair is messy and she’s still in her pajamas with baby puke stains on them.

“I’m serious,” he says, as his hand slides down to the small of her back and his lips find hers; soft, slow, simple kiss. “You look incredible.”

She smiles. A genuine, glowing smile that lights up her entire face and makes her eyes sparkle and dance. And with her hands on his chest, she stands on her tip toes once again and places a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then lays her hand against the side of his face and runs the end of pad of her thumb over his lips, her eyes never leaving his.

It’s the sincerest ‘thank you’ he’s ever received.

****

Nik and Kyle have a room at Sovreign Resort Hotel, and they’ve arranged to meet on the outdoor patio belonging to the in-house restaurant. It’s better for the kids; no cooping them up in a crowded, busy room and expecting them to sit still and keep quiet. Being outside gives them a chance to breathe; away from the hustle and bustle and all the judgmental stares and comments if they dare step out of line.  There are gardens and fishponds to investigate when they get bored or agitated and need some time to decompress, and room for a high chair for Declan and Addie’s stroller, giving her a comfortable and safe place to retreat to while the others eat and converse.

“Now I know why we don’t go out more often,” Esme comments, as she notices the curious looks and hears the comments tossed their way. A fairly young couple with so many kids, all close together in age.  Most find it cute; drawn to the twins in their complimenting outfits and Millie in her princess dress, but there’s the bitchy people as well. The ‘children should be seen and not heard’ crowd that find it ridiculous –and maybe even disgusting- that people are willingly having such large families in this day and age. “People are staring at us,” she frets. “And whispering.”

Tyler moves Declan from one hip to the other, than lays a hand on the back of her neck and gives it a comforting squeeze. “Want me to tell them that I have weak pull out game? Lighten the mood?”

“I’d laugh but I wouldn’t but it past you do actually do something like that.  Seriously, what is everyone’s issue?”

“Who gives a shit.  Just ignore it. Maybe it bothers them because it’s obvious by all the kids that we’ve had more sex in five years than they’ve had in fifty.”

Normally it would aggravate him, that kind of attention and all the talk. But he’d taken half a dozen Ativan before getting out of the car and the effects are already starting to take hold.  He’s relaxed. The calmest he’s been in the past four days. Although he’s pretty sure having to be in Nik’s presence and enduring her version of ‘small talk’ will change that.

Nik and Kyle have already arrived; sitting side by side at a large table near the edge of the patio, leaning into one another, foreheads nearly touching as they talk, their hands joined on top of the table.

“I’m going to be sick,” Esme mutters. “Ughhhh. The way she’s looking at him. He’s way too good for her. Let’s just leave. I don’t think they’ve seen us yet. If we just sneak out now...”

Kyle has spotted them and is already on his feet and making his way towards them; the kids so focused on their surroundings that they’re completely unsuspecting until he’s within five feet, noisily clearing his throat to grab their attention.

“Uncle Kyle!” Millie cries, and is the first to break away, the soles of those old sandals flapping against the concreate patio as she rushes to where he’s already crouched down, arms outstretched, gathering her into them and pulling her tight against him.    

The twins follow suit; shrieking his name as they run towards him, finding themselves enveloped by his strong arms and gathered into a bear hug along with their sister.  Tears sparkling in Kyle’s eyes as he showers them with kisses and tousles their hair and listens to their excited ramblings; all three talking at the same time, filling him in on all the excitement and adventures they’ve experienced in the past six months.   And Tyler notices that Nik doesn’t budge from the table, sipping at a glass of wine and never acknowledging the scene playing out in front of her.

“Wish me luck,” Esme sighs, and he gives a reassuring before taken Declan from him, carrying him on her hip and pushing the baby in the stroller as she herds the other three towards the table to get them settled.  

He watches as the two women exchange tight lipped smiles; Esme’s one of lingering bitterness and anger, Nik’s filled with a hint of remorse and maybe even regret.   And how his wife holds it together despite wanting to completely unleash on her old friend; instead patiently getting the kids settled and Declan strapped into a highchair. He knows it’s difficult for her; his ‘history’ with Nik still the elephant that lingers in the room, the other issues that she’s caused over the past six and a half years adding insult to injury.

“Good to see you, man,” Kyle gives him an awkward one-armed hug and then claps him on the shoulder. “What the has she been feeding you? You’re a fucking tank.”

“Just a lot of hours in the gym. Gotta keep myself busy somehow. Things are good with you?”  

Their relationship has been strained; not just because of the thousands of miles between them and Kyle holding him responsible for yet again ‘stealing’ his sister, but the ongoing hostility with Nik.  The last time they’d talked, Tyler hadn’t been kind; letting her know to stay the hell away from him, to never contact him again. He’d been harsh. He’s the first one to admit that.  But it had worked. At least until now.

“Things are good,” Kyle says, and then glances over his shoulder at Nik, a smile curving his lips. “Things are really good. What about here? You guys are doing alright? The kids seem happier.”

“We’re all happier. It was the right thing to do. Coming back here.”

“She’s struggling though,” Kyle nods in the direction of his sister. “Don’t even try and tell me she’s not.”

“She’d be struggling a lot less if you have just listened and kept Nik away. It wasn’t enough you’re marrying her considering everything in the past? You had to make things worse by bringing her here?”

“We hadn’t heard from you guys yet. About the wedding.”

“And that means you come all the way here and fuck things up? You have a phone. You've got the internet. Send an email. Don’t just show up. We’re still trying to get past all of this. Nik and her shit, the job.”

"It was her idea. Nik’s. To come here and try and make things. Patch things up. I told her that I didn’t know if either you or Esme were ready for that that yet, but....”

He frowns. “It was her idea?”

Kyle nods. “She wanted to make amends. In person.”

“She told you that? That that’s why we wanted to come here?”

You poor delusional bastard, Tyler thinks. Kyle’s being played and manipulated in the say way she’d messed with him.  Nik always has an ulterior motive. And Kyle is either blind to it, doesn’t give a shit, or genuinely doesn’t realize what she’s capable of.  

He decides it’s the latter.

“We want you guys at the wedding,” Kyle says. “I mean, if it wasn’t for you and Esme, we never would have met.”

He feels as if he should apologize in advance.  Because six months from now, Kyle’s going to realize just what kind of shit show he’s gotten himself into. “

“And we want the kids there,” Kyle continues. “Millie could be the flower girl, the twins could be junior ushers, Declan could carry the ring up. We want it to be a family affair.

The last thing Tyler wants it to be stuck anywhere with Esme’s family. He doesn’t give a shit about their feelings towards him. If they want to spend the rest of their lives hating him and viewing him as the enemy, so be it. But the way they’ve treated her.... his wife...is unacceptable. And the worst place to air those grievances is at the wedding of the only member of that clan he can actually stand.

“Won’t be the same without all of you,” Kyle says. “I mean, we’re family.”

Tyler wouldn’t go that far. You usually don’t become family with someone you used to casually fuck,

“This is a big deal for her,” his brother in law continues. “Wanting to come here. Wanting to make things right.”

“And you really think that’s why she wanted to come here?”

“Why wouldn’t I? She hasn’t given me a reason not to believe her. Why?”  his eyes narrow. “You know something I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you know Nik as well as you think you do,” Tyler says, then gives him a sympathetic pat on shoulder before heading for the table.

****

“You’re here to take daddy away, aren’t you.” Millie voice is accusatory and full of venom; eyes narrowed as she regards Nik from across the table.  

Dinner is long finished; all dirty dishes and cutlery cleared away in favor of tea and coffee for the adults and ice cream for the kids. His daughter has been glued to his side all night, Nik bringing out the clingy and protective side of her. Nearly causing a fight with Tanner when he initially wouldn’t give up the seat to Tyler’s right. Then climbing up into his lap as soon as the meal was finished; sitting sideways on his thighs, an arm curled tightly around his neck.

Esme shifts uncomfortably beside him, then noisily clears her throat and reaches for a glass of ice water.  He takes her hand, squeezing it tightly before placing their joined hands on her thigh.  

“No one is taking anyone away,” he assures his daughter.

“That's what you said last time,” Millie reminds him. “And then you were gone forever.”

“Well this time is different.  I’m not going anywhere. Uncle Kyle just came to see you guys. So she tagged along. Nothing more than that.”

“She is your Aunt,” Kyle speaks up. “It’s okay if you guys call her that even if certain people don’t want to acknowledge it or accept it.”

Esme clears her throat once more, hand tightening around Tyler’s.

Millie isn’t convinced. “If I wake up tomorrow and my daddy's gone, I’m going to be really pissed!”

“Okay, calm down,” Tyler presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still going to be here when you wake up tomorrow. So just relax, okay? Take it easy.”

Millie turns to face him, then kneels on his laps as she leans in close and whispers. “I don’t trust her, daddy.”

“It’s a long way to come,” Esme pipes up. “Just because you missed the kids. Web cam chats do exist, you know.”

“It’s not the same,” Kyle says. “And things are slow right now for Nik and I had some vacation time owe to me, so...well...here we are.”

“Yeah,” Esme gives a tense smile. “Here you guys are.”

Tyler moves Mille over to his other thigh, then let’s go his wife’s hand in favor of laying his arm across the back of her chair, thumb repeatedly brushing against her shoulder.

“We thought it was time to smooth things out,” Kyle explains. “Before the wedding. So things aren’t tense that day like they are now. I mean, it’s been six months. Time to let it go, don’t you think.”

“I think you’re underestimating what the nearly six years before were like,” his sister calmly responds. “Or am I just supposed to pretend they never happened?  That she...sorry.... you...” she looks over at Nik. “...never pulled all the bullshit you did?”

“Mommy.” Tanner looks up from his ice cream. “That’s a bad word. Daddy said no bad words tonight.”

“You’re right,” she says, and then gives her son a smile and wraps an arm around him, drawing him tight against her. “Bad mommy,” she scolds herself, and then runs her fingers through his hair and places a kiss to his cheek.

“No one is saying that you have to forget about all of that or pretend it never happened.” Kyle informs her. “But wouldn’t you rather iron things out so you’re carrying around so much animosity?”

“Oh, that’s rich, K. Maybe you should be addressing your future wife’s animosity. And how she was so pissed at Tyler and I that she was willing to leave us both on a bridge in Dhaka to die.”

“Okay...no one needs to hear about this,” Tyler says, and rubs her shoulder. “Especially little ears.”

“I’ve already apologized for that,” Nik finally speaks. “Countless times. But things didn’t exactly happen the way you think they did.”

Esme snorts. “Spare me, Nik. Yaz told me all I needed to know. So don’t waste your breath lying to me. Dhaka was a total crap show and you just went ahead and made it even worse.”

“Alright, settle down,” Tyler implores, and then leans sideways to press a kiss to her temple, lips settling against her ear. “The kids do not need to hear this. Any of this. Okay? Can you stop? For me? Please?”

She reluctantly nods.

“It was Nik’s idea to come here,” Kyle says. “She wanted to patch things up. With both of you. So we could be part of the kids’ lives. They deserve to have family. Are you going to let your ego get in the way of what’s best for them?”

“Whoa...whoa...” Tyler comes to his wife’s defense. “...that’s way out of line, mate. Don't use her kids against her. Don’t ever accuse of not doing what’s for her kids. Our kids. Don’t stoop that low or you are I are going to have problems.”

“I’m just saying that...”

“I know what you’re saying. But find another way to say. Because I won’t let you disrespect the mother of my children like that.”

Nik gives a dramatic sigh. “Obviously the two of you are still holding onto a lot of bitterness and anger and this was a total waste of our time.”

“We’re holding onto a lot of bitterness and anger?” Esme retorts, then laughs. “Says the woman who couldn’t handle that her with friend with benefits met someone and decided to move on with his life. The same woman who was so mad about it that she spent six years trying to get my husband to cheat on me? Or are you going to pretend none of that ever happened?”

“And I’ve apologized for that, Esme. But you’re just so childish and petty that you can't let it go.”

‘Well I’m sorry, Nik. Maybe I’m not comfortable with my husband’s old side piece becoming my sister in law.”

“There’s kids here,” Tyler reminds them both. “They don’t need to hear this. Either settle down or just drop it.”

Esme glares at him. “And suddenly you’re on her side?”

“I’m on your side. I’m always on your side. But I’m also on the side of my kids not having to hear this stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve heard a lot worse,” Nik snidely remarks. “With you as their father.”

Esme’s eyes narrow. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what he’s like. The mouth on him. I’m just saying that I’m sure the kids have heard a lot worse than what we’re talking about.”

“How about you just leave my kids out of this,” Esme suggests. “Or is that the real issue? That they’re my kids...with him...and not yours.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle moans. “Not this again.”

“That’s what really pissed off six and a half years ago, wasn’t it, Nik. The fact that you wanted more than just the dick and he wouldn’t give it to you. It just pissed you off when he met me and all of sudden he was getting married, having kids, enjoying a normal life. That’s what really bugged you. What still bugs you.”

“Can we not talk about that?” Tyler asks. “Do you really think the kids need to know this kind of shit?”

Esme ignores him. “Why don’t you tell Kyle the real reason you’re here, Nik. And don’t lie and say it was to repair things between us. Tell the truth for once. Tell him you’re here to screw things up all over again.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about this now,” Nik says. “This was supposed to be about coming together and sitting down and ironing things out. To patch things up and see the kids and...”

“I think we should call it a night,” Tyler suggests. “It’s getting late and the kids are tired and have school tomorrow.”

“No,” Esme responds. “We’re not leaving. She’s going to come clear to my brother about what she’s really here for. How she used our kids as an excuse to come here. Tell him, Nik. Tell him exactly what you came all this way for.”

“Esme,” Tyler warns. “...not here...please.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Kyle. It isn’t for my husband’s dick. For once. It’s all business, isn’t it, Nik. It’s all about the job. And you trying to manipulate Tyler into helping you.”

“Would you stop,” Tyler tightly squeezes her shoulder. “Enough. Stop Not here. Not now. And not in front of the kids.”

“Nik wants to hire Ovi to be a mercenary,” Esme announces. “Ovi. Of all goddamn people.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Tyler orders. “If you two wants to hash it out or kick the crap out of each other, go do it somewhere else. Just not in front of my kids.”

“You’d think she’d have more comment sense than that because of everything Ovi went through in Dhaka,” Esme continues. “But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised considering we wanted us to leave him in the street like a piece of trash. She probably wanted Tyler to leave me there too. Because I was the obstacle in the way or getting what she really wanted.”

“Is this true?”  Kyle address Nik. “That’s why you really wanted to come here? To hire Ovi?”

“Oh, not just that,” Esme informs him. “She wants Tyler’s help. She wants him to train Ovi before she sends him off to be killed. She probably wants more than that. She always has.”

“Okay, we’re going.” Tyler tightens his hold on Millie and stands up. “Enough. I’ve had enough. I said not to do this, and you did it anyway. Let’s go.”

“I want to know if any of this is true,” Kyle says. “If that’s the real reason we ended up here. Is it?” he looks back at Nik. “IT had nothing do with fixing things, did it. It was all bullshit. Just to get something you want.”

“That’s Nik’s M.O,” Esme smirks. “That’s all she ever cares about. Getting what she wants. And trying to destroy anyone that stands in her way.”

“Why would you do this?” Nik hisses. “Stoop this low?”

“Now you know how it feels,” Esme give a victorious smile as she stands up. “Doesn’t feel good, does it? Having some bitch trying to fuck your life up.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tyler snarls. “Let’s just go. Enough. You’ve said enough.”

“Oh, I have more tons more I could say.”

“Well another time, another place. We’re leaving. Now.”  His tone is demanding. Authoritative. But his face remains calm as he gathers up all the kids; Declan on one hip, Millie on the other. “Let’s go guys,” he says to the twins. “Home time.”

“Thank God,” Tanner huffs. “Adult stuff is so boring.”

Kyle hurries after them as they leave, catching Tyler by the arm before he can get out the side entrance of the patio. “I am so fucking sorry. I had no idea what she was up to,” he says, as Esme and the twins –with TJ pushing the baby stroller- continue the walk to the car.  “She told me that she wanted to come here and fix things. And so I could see the kids. I had no clue she had an ulterior motive.”

“That’s one thing about Nik. She always has an ulterior motive. I’m sorry, too. That you had to find out that way. Esme should have just kept her mouth shut. For tonight at least. I tried, but...” Tyler shrugs. “...she doesn’t always listen to me.”

“She doesn’t listen to anyone,” Kyle gives a dry laugh. You guys going to be okay?”

“We’ll be fine. She’ll get home and go off on me for a bit and then she’ll calm down. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’m used to it after six and a half years. Good luck with Nik, though. You’re going to need it.”

Kyle frowns and runs a hand over the back of his head. “That bad, huh?”

“Mate, you have idea. If she boots you out and you need a place to crash, you know where to find us.”

“Yeah, don’t be surprised if you come out in the morning and find me drunk and passed out on the beach.”

Tyler smirks. “There’s been times I wished I was loaded and passed out on the beach, believe me. I am sorry. That your sister went off like that.  But you were going to find out sooner or later.”

“Better sooner if you ask me.” Kyle says. “Tell her I’m sorry. That you’re dragged back into this shit. Into that life. Esme deserves better than that.”

“Yeah,” Tyler agrees. “She does.”

[kiruuuuu]

Thank you so much @bdiduk2003​, both for your compliments and the request :) I’m always happy to see your name pop up 💞 Even though I shifted the focus a little, I hope you enjoy this piece in which:

Mute’s Halloween outfit overstays its welcome and Smoke demonstrates what a good dad he is. (Rating M, some sexual elements + heaps of fluff, ~3.5k words) - Thanks a lot also to @i-dnt-know-either​ for allowing me to reference your wonderful Halloween fic!! 💙💙💙 It’s not required but highly recommended to read it first.

.

“I really should’ve gotten you some heels”, Smoke drawls, still lazily palming the not uninterested dick right next to his face.

“Want me to moan an octave higher, too? Because I’m not sure I actually can. Might sound like a cat dying.” Mute continues to struggle with getting that blasted dress over his head, wondering how he managed the previous evening. Not having been hungover must’ve helped. It’s early morning now, darkness lurking outside the windows still. They’ve only gotten about three hours of sleep in total, and those not even as a whole but scattered in between frotting and petting and more making out. Smoke had mentioned picking up Charlie after breakfast, and so they decided in favour of staying up the entire night before crashing completely as opposed to waking up like zombies. As a result, Mute’s crotch is sore and so are his nipples and all the bruises on his neck from Smoke acting like a vampire, and still his boyfriend is insatiable.

“Babe, you could yodel for all I care, I’d still fuck you.”

“Is that a challenge?” Finally, Mute manages to pull the playboy bunny outfit back on – Smoke requested a reprise of last night and if it helps tire him out, Mute is more than willing to dress up once more. Even so, his partner is more interested in playing with his half-hard cock peeking out between the lace instead of marvelling at how good he looks. Mute has to admit, the piece of clothing does flatter his physique.

“That depends entirely on whether you can actually yodel or not. Do we have any fishnets?”

Mute rolls his eyes but spreads his legs when questing fingers nudge them apart, already preparing for round number… he’s not even sure, actually, lost count somewhere along the way. “Are you sure you can go again? Or will this end in half an hour of aimless humping?”

The only reply he gets is a bright smile and a finger pushed inside, at which point he stops caring and gets into position to guide the tip of his cock into Smoke’s mouth, partly for the actual stimulation and mostly to shut him up. A tired, hungover Smoke is a Smoke full of bad ideas, and maybe this way he can prevent at least some of them slipping out.

A ringing stops both of them in their tracks. They exchange a meaningful glance.

Unimpressed, the sound continues.

“You should probably get that”, Mute sighs and withdraws all body parts from inside other body parts so Smoke’s hands are free to accept the call. Whoever thinks it appropriate to disturb anyone at this hour, the morning after Halloween, should be shot.

“Is she alright?”, Smoke suddenly blurts out, voice full of worry, and Mute’s stomach drops instantly, all annoyance forgotten and replaced with mild panic. This sounds serious and he doesn’t breathe until Smoke slumps in relief. “Okay. Then what else – really? Where? Gotcha. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Mute likes absolutely nothing of what he’s just heard. “Charlie?”, he guesses and earns a nod.

“She, uh, got picked up by a sergeant, Driscoll. Sounds like local police.”

Pardon him? “She what.”

“Something about trespassing – I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is that we’re picking her up now.” Smoke is already halfway out the door, pulling on jeans and disregarding his lack of underwear. “Come on!”

“I actually know that guy”, Mute provides helpfully and rises as well, begins gathering clothes. “If she really has broken some laws, he’ll let it slide. He likes me.”

“You’re a godsend, babe. Now get rid of that costume and let’s go.”

Sure, no problem. All Mute has to do is take it off again and replace it with reasonable human clothes. No biggie. Piece of cake. After all, he wants to look presentable when facing any kind of law enforcement, and wants to set a good example for Charlie, and doesn’t want to appear like a cheap hooker Smoke dragged along. Easy.

Easy peasy.

“James.” The slight panic in his voice has his lover shift his attention back to him. “The fucking thing is stuck. I can’t get it off.”

They stare at each other across the messy bedroom.

“You can wear your coat?”, comes the weak suggestion and while it’s a good one, Mute shakes his head.

“Gave it to Manu the other day. She hasn’t returned it yet.”

“Put on jeans?”

“The bloody lace won’t fit.”

Another silence. Smoke is radiating impatience and Mute vaguely understands, he’s also worried about Charlie having gotten into trouble, about her hanging out with the wrong crowd and having made choices she might regret later. He knows how important she is to Smoke. Is aware of how important she is to him.

.

A minute later, he’s sitting in the car next to Smoke, boxer briefs peeking out from under the scandalously short dress and struggling with a hoodie he grabbed on his way out, all the while having to listen to Smoke trying to sugarcoat the situation: “Look, if you hide the top, you can pretend you just forgot to put trousers on or that you’re going as, uh -”

“The zip’s broken”, Mute sighs in defeat and demonstrates that the zip is, indeed, broken. So no hiding any part of the dress, except for the back. Wonderful. Great. Just what he needed. “Just forget about it. She’s seen you in worse.”

“She’s seen me in socks with sandals, true, but she’s not seen you in a dress like this. In a come-stained dress. I’m not making this any better, am I?”

“You might wanna stop talking, yes.” From what he knows, Charlie went out with friends to a Halloween party and was meant to sleep over at one of their places – Smoke seemed familiar with the name, so it’s surprising they ended up at the police station. Charlie is picky and, while drawn to troublemakers, she sticks with the sensible ones. The ones who know how to blow up the chemistry lab and yet refrain from doing so. She really takes after her dad in a lot of ways.

It’s not until they’ve actually stepped inside the building that Mute considers what they must look like: him in a very short dress, sneakers without socks, a sliver of bright orange boxers visible under voluminous lace with suspicious stains, a ratty red hoodie finishing the whole ensemble, and then Smoke looking like a homeless person, with the two of them undoubtedly smelling like one as well. At least they washed their hands. Well, Mute did. He doesn’t actually remember whether -

And then he notices the three teens gaping at them in shock. One of them is Charlie, the other two are siblings Mute has met once or twice before, the girl having attended the same elementary school as Smoke’s daughter and the boy only being one year older. And all of them are dumbstruck.

At least they seem to be alright, that’s something. Sighing, Mute turns to the perplexed-looking police officer apparently in charge of the three kids and greets him with a nod. Maybe if he pretends everything is normal, he won’t have to justify himself. “Sergeant.”

Recognition flashes on the man’s face. “Wait – I know you! What was your name again?”

“Mark Chandar. Pleasure seeing you again, Mr Driscoll.”

“Of course! What a coincidence.” They shake hands, the other man now beaming. Mute knows him from his days in Cambridge, was close friends with his daughter and hopefully left a lasting good impression on her dad. “Apologies for not recognising you right away, the, uh, ears threw me off.”

Fuck. He’s still wearing them? Well, taking them off now would only draw more attention to it – except that the teens’ eyes have unanimously shifted upwards to stare at his long bunny ears.

“What are you up to these days, Mark?”

He didn’t come here for friendly conversation, in any case. “Losing bets”, he replies defeatedly and watches as Charlie’s aghast expression tilts over into unbridled mirth.

To his relief, Smoke draws their attention back to the matter at hand: “I’m Charlotte’s father. So what happened?”

“Oh, yes. We received a call from a local farmer about teenagers trespassing in one of his fields and lighting a small bonfire. When we arrived, we only encountered these three next to said field. As it was very early in the morning and quite far away from… anything, really, we brought them back here and contacted you.”

Smoke furrows his brows in displeasure and Mute mirrors him – setting fire to things isn’t one of Charlie’s hobbies and neither is trespassing. She’s a model student where her marks are concerned, even if her classroom behaviour sometimes leaves things to be desired, but overall her rebellious phase has involved dyeing her hair, listening to wild music, cooking all the spicy food Smoke can’t stomach and drinking a few mixed beers here and there. It could be a lot worse.

“It wasn’t us”, Charlie chimes in, now serious again. “Gavin was driving us home and he wanted to keep the party going somewhere random, we even tried telling him that it was a bad idea but he wouldn’t listen. We didn’t climb the fence with them and waited by the road, but they must’ve bailed without us.”

“So you had nothing to do with the fire and didn’t even trespass?”, Smoke clarifies, to which his daughter and the other two teens simply nod. The two siblings seem to intimidated to lie, and this version fits more with what Mute expected, so he turns back to Driscoll.

“In that case you can let them off with a warning, right?”

The sergeant fixes the three with a grave look clearly meant to deter them from any future trouble, but he nods. “Yes, I suppose I can. Maybe you should choose your friends more carefully. Can you drive the other two home as well?”

“Sure.”

And just so his reputation isn’t permanently tarnished, Mute makes some more polite conversation while Smoke herds the teens outside into the car. Their relief is palpable, none of them acquainted with ending up at a police station, and therefore they’re grateful to be rescued. Driscoll threatened to call the siblings’ parents regardless, so they might face some more stern words, but Charlie is her usual relaxed self now.

Well, she should be. She’s chewing on her lip, however, and avoiding Smoke’s gaze in the rear-vision mirror.

“Was this seriously your Halloween costume this year, Mark?”, she blurts out as soon as he’s joined them in the car.

He responds with a weary sigh. “I should know better than to keep betting against your dad by now.”

“Who’s that?”, the girl sitting next to Charlie wants to know quietly.

“Mark? He’s my second dad.” And Mute would be lying if he claimed his heart didn’t skip a beat at that. They took some time warming up to each other, but when she invited him on a concert and he let her have a few sips of his beer, their friendship was sealed. He has trouble viewing her as a daughter since they’re barely ten years apart, but whatever it is that binds them together, they’ve reached mutual respect and understanding. “And apparently trying to get on next month’s Playboy cover. Mark, this is Roisin and this is Niall.”

“I told you we should’ve insisted on costumes”, Roisin continues in a stage whisper, “imagine Gavin in that. Or, even better, Mike. Oh my God, Mike in heels.”

“Why does everyone keep going on about heels?”, Mute wonders out loud and prompts an embarrassed giggle from Charlie’s friend, but Smoke isn’t laughing. All he does is drive through the English countryside, eyes on the road, mouth shut. He’s listening, though. And Mute gets the feeling he’s missing something.

Behind him, the three teens joke around some more, with Niall getting more and more boisterous as time passes and Roisin giggling endlessly – he’s not sure why they’re friends, but Charlie seems to like them, so he leaves them to it. They recount their own party from the previous night and gossip until Smoke stops the vehicle, pointing with his chin.

“Thanks, Mr Porter!”, Roisin hurries to say, with her brother echoing her less enthusiastically, and then both of them hug Charlie before jumping out and racing up the stairs. Probably hoping their parents are neither awake nor have received a phone call from Driscoll yet.

On the back seat, Charlie is back to chewing on her lip.

“Did you set anything on fire that wasn’t meant to be?”, Smoke asks, turning around to examine his daughter closely. And wait.

She just shakes her head, apparently expecting the questioning. “No. Of course not. I was careful, I built a proper pit for it and all.”

Wait. Mute looks back and forth between them.

“Did you remove all traces afterwards?”

“Yes, dad. Please. I’m not an idiot.”

“Why did you go into the field in the first place?”

It’s the first time Charlie actually looks embarrassed. “To stargaze. But then Niall said I couldn’t actually make a fire without a lighter, so I had to prove him wrong.”

“And it was only you three involved?”

“Yeah. We asked to be dropped off there. It was just us.”

“Anything else you have to say?”

She nods, sounding earnest. “Sorry for worrying you. And thanks for picking us up.” When Smoke remains quiet, she adds: “Thanks for getting us off the hook, Mark.”

He continues to be flabbergasted by the exchange – Charlie is not in the habit of lying, but looking back, he begins to understand: she doesn’t lie to Smoke. Everyone outside is fair game. He supposes this is what they call paternal instinct – he would’ve believed her everything. “No problem, Charl. I love making a complete fool of myself in front of casual acquaintances.”

This seems to break the ice, and the two Porters let out a laugh along with a breath they’ve been holding. “You look fantastic”, Charlie lies smoothly. “But why are you still wearing it?”

“That reminds me, we don’t have anything for breakfast”, Smoke announces brightly, inconspiciously changing the topic. “We should go shopping.”

And Mute just groans.

.

On the way through the parking lot, Charlie is back to being her bubbly self now that she knows Smoke isn’t mad at her, laughing unselfconsciously at most jokes and giving a rundown of her Halloween while Smoke feeds her bits and pieces of their own. Mute mentions Blitz’ collar and Charlie is both intrigued and scandalised, and when the topic shifts to Jäger’s cat ears, her eyes light up in a very familiar way. Seems like Mute already knows what he’ll get her for Christmas. They pass by a few leftovers from the past night, a handful of costumed drunken blokes swaying in place and holding a contest for the loudest burp.

Just as they’re walking past them, the wannabe-Jack-Sparrow who indubitably glanced at Mute’s attire yells for everybody to hear: “Ewww, a homo!”

Without missing a beat – and before anyone can even react –, Charlie replies loudly: “Ewww, heteros!”

Mute swallows a grin. He can’t encourage her because Smoke has been trying to teach his daughter the non-confrontational approach in a ‘do as I say, not as I do’ way, and all her dad does is walk a little faster now, gently pulling her with him. It’s not that they couldn’t beat these guys to a pulp. It’s not that Smoke wouldn’t normally make a huge display or ridicule arseholes like this. This is purely about didactics.

“The fuck did you call us, brat?”, roars severely underweight Batman whose fake abs hang on his thin frame sadly.

“I’m sorry you missed out on so much necessary education”, Charlie shoots back, cheeks reddening in anger, and then Smoke guides her through the sliding doors into the Tesco’s. “Wow, those idiots are dumb. They don’t even know what hetero means, that’s ridiculous, they thought it was an insult or something, how can you -”

“Charlie.” Smoke stops, regarding her calmly and waiting until she deflates.

“I know, dad. Pick my battles. But I get so bloody annoyed at guys like them. Bloody Niall is almost as bad, you didn’t see his face when I introduced Mark. Tosser.” Smoke is still looking at her, a fond smile on his lips which only grows when she rolls her eyes and stomps off. “Walk away, I know. Not worth my time and efforts, I won’t change their minds anyway, no need to force a confrontation, blah blah. I know.”

Mute’s heart continues melting when Smoke just laughs and captures his daughter in a hug to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Now all you gotta do is translate your knowledge into actions, sweetie. And Niall is someone whose opinion you can influence – you’re friends with him after all. Those lads outside? Worthless. They won’t listen.”

“I guess.” She doesn’t seem appeased but at least she’s not stewing anymore. While they scour the aisles for the unhealthiest breakfast they can find (Smoke insisted on a full English), she turns to Mute, curious. “Did you have to deal with crap like that a lot?”

“I won’t lie, outfits like this increase the frequency drastically.” She snorts yet seems to understand it’s a topic on which he’d rather not elaborate – in time, she’s become adept at reading him and leaving him alone if he’s slightly uncomfortable. It’s just one of the many reasons why he likes her so much.

If he’s honest, he’s on Charlie’s side, but fully understands where Smoke is coming from: she’s a teenager and while she’s capable of defending herself, a bunch of drunken men is too much for her to take on. Despite her tough attitude, she hasn’t developed a skin thick enough to not let hateful comments get to her either, and Smoke would rather she get angry than be riddled with self-doubts.

Regardless. If it was for Mute, he’d at the very least have given them a show for free. Just out of spite. Spite is a great motivator.

“You go get the eggs, we’ll fetch some toast”, Smoke suddenly decides and directs Charlie to the back of the store while dragging Mute with him to the front, ignoring his weak protests.

“We have more than enough toast”, Mute gets out just before he’s dragged past the bread aisle and pressed against the glass front, warm lips capturing his and a tongue pushing its way inside his mouth immediately. He’s always ready to make out with his boyfriend, no matter how little sleep they’ve gotten, no matter whether his dress is riding up and clearly exposing Smoke groping his arse, no matter whether anyone can see them, but this comes a little unexpected.

Then he understands. Anyone can see them. And so he starts kissing back with the appropriate enthusiasm.

Both of them are grinning when they separate, and maybe they’re overdoing it a little with Mute slapping Smoke’s arse so loudly it actually echoes and Smoke blowing the stupefied blokes outside a kiss, but neither of them care.

“You’re the most hypocritical dad I know”, Mute mutters as they hurry back to reduce suspicion, “and somehow she still turned out fine.”

“And you are the second best dad I know.”

“After yourself?” Smoke wordlessly beams at him. “Of course after yourself. Why did I even ask.”

.

By the time they’re leaving, the drunkards have disappeared and Charlie seems to have forgotten all about them anyway, bragging about how she managed to win a bet against Niall about how many marshmallows they could fit in their mouths. As Smoke is returning their cart and leaves them to put their groceries in the car, Mute can’t help but reference the earlier topic: “Be prepared if you actually want to confront him about his views, Charl. He might not take it well.”

“Oh I kinda expect him to go mental. But that’s okay. I’ll just date his sister.” And a wink conveys that this is meant to be a secret between the two of them, for now.

Mute just shakes his head. He could’ve met Charlie on her own, without ever knowing who she is, and he would’ve guessed her to be related to Smoke in some way. Like father, like daughter.

Not that he’s complaining. In fact, he’s looking forward to making breakfast with his two favourite people in the world. He’d just… prefer to get changed beforehand.

[killian-whump]

Colin the Shots - Enchanted!

We’re gonna do things a little differently this time around! We’re going to go with a multiple choice ballot, instead of open-ended betting. Also, since Colin will be attending TWO days of the convention, you’ll have TWICE the chances to get points (wait, we’re keeping score? news to me!). Let’s go!

A. What hairstyle will Colin be sporting at Enchanted?

the usual one <3

Superman hai- NEXT QUESTION PLEASE

something different, and he’ll say it’s for a job

something different, and he won’t say it’s for a job

B. What kind of facial hair will Colin have at Enchanted?

none! he’ll be clean-shaven

stubble - not clean-shaven, but not the usual beard

the usual beard (aka the perfect amount of facial hair <3)

something totally unusual, probably for a job

C. What sort of shirt will Colin wear at Enchanted?

t-shirt

button-down shirt (open over a tee, or closed)

henley / polo / jersey / sweater / etc

puffy shirt

D. What sort of pants will Colin wear at Enchanted?

jeans

slacks

leather pants

pants? who needs pants?

E. What type of shoes will Colin wear at Enchanted?

sneakers / trainers

leather boots

those brown suede boots

sandals with socks on (no, please no)

F. Speaking of socks...

they’ll be plain, solid-colored ones

they’ll be fun socks, but we won’t make out what’s on them

they’ll be fun socks, and he’ll show us / tell us about them

I’m new here, what’s all this about socks?

Bonus Question: Will he wear something from Rogers’ closet?

G. Will he tell us anything about his upcoming projects?

yes! he’ll tell us about something new!

yes, but it won’t be anything we don’t already know about

sort of, he’ll tease us with hints that might be new info...

NEXT QUESTION, PLEASE

H. Will he mention that one blooper (you know the one)?

yes, but only in response to a related question

yes, he’ll find some way to mention it

no, it’s not going to come up at all

he’ll re-enact it onstage with handmade puppets

I. Will Colin troll us somehow before the weekend’s over?

yes

yeah

you bet

also yes, but with a “but” added on to look thoughtful

J. Will Colin troll his co-stars sometime during the weekend?

yes, all of them, all weekend long

that’s it, there is no second option; you only get the one

Here’s how to play!!! Just reply to or reblog this post with your answers (or send them to me privately via message box or ask box) and you’ll be part of the game! Then follow along this weekend to see if your guesses are correct! If you guess the most things right, you’ll win fabulous prizes! earn the admiration of everyone and the right to claim yourself a Colin Psychic!

[jaeminlore]

Do You Wanna Dance? | Jaemin

summary: do you wanna dance? hold my hand? words: 3k category: lifeguard!jaemin, fluff, slight angst a/n: this one isn't too bad. also... i love jaemin

You love vacationing in Salos. Granted, this is your first time, but you can't think of anywhere better to spend a month before heading back to New York. You love the sun, the clear air, the sand, the water, and most importantly — the view.

More specifically, the extremely cute boy who perches on the lifeguard stand every morning in front of the resort. Your favorite pastime is sitting in your rented beach chair, getting a tan and watching the already-tanned boy do his job ever-so-cutely.

His name is Jaemin, and you only know this because every morning he does his rounds of making sure guests have paid for their rented chairs and umbrellas. And every morning, around nine, he walks over in his stark red board shorts, with that silver whistle thumping against his lean chest and a voice so deep it makes your toes curl into the sand.

It doesn't help that he's warm, in every sense of the word. He radiates positive energy, and always has a new compliment to give to you or your family. At first, you thought his flattery was the only reason you developed such a crush on the boy. But as the days pass, you realize that can't be true. Because you're mesmerized by his actions and absolutely captivated with the way he talks to the resort guests.

Around noon, an older college student will take his place.

There have mornings when you thought about following him. However stalker-ish it may sound, you're positive he must have an interesting and exciting life. Someone like him, with an award-winning smile and a bright personality, has to.

It's the second Monday of your vacation, when your mother casually mentions that the three of you are from New York.

You're busy staring at the smear of sunscreen that Jaemin hasn't quite rubbed into his shoulder yet. Your arm twitches, instinct telling you to rub it in, but common sense reminds you of how dumb that plan is.

In the midst of your inner conflict, you realize Jaemin is talking to you.

His eyes twinkle, so much so that you'd bet he had real diamonds behind his pupils. "You've been to Broadway shows?"

"Of course," you say, finding strength somewhere in the way Jaemin is looking at you with utter fascination.

"My dream is to perform on Broadway. You should see my room, honestly, I've got so much memorabilia I bought off of Ebay, you'd think I was a season ticket holder."

You find yourself giggling, and Jaemin cocks his head to the side. "No siblings?"

"Just me."

"Friends?"

"Back home."

Jaemin tuts, much like a grandmother after finding out her grandchild has yet to eat any sweets. "Well that just won't do! Not on an island like this, where there's so much to see. You have to share it with friends, not with your parents. That's boring."

He cuts a quick, apologetic look to your parents and continues, "I have a few friends who work all around the boardwalk if you ever want to meet them. And every Friday, there's this bonfire all the kids throw on the beach. It's so much fun. We even go surfing at night sometimes."

Jaemin has this fascinating way of speaking, the kind that pulls you into a fantasy or a daydream and has you thinking so much about how you like his voice, that you end up forgetting to listen to it. It's addicting. "Tell you what, if you want to hang out, give me your number, and I'll text you when I'm off work. If you don't, just tell me and my feelings won't be hurt."

You believe him, but your entire body refuses to reject him, despite how awkward you assume this whole ordeal is going to go. "Okay. Give me your phone."

And that marks the beginning of a happy summer.

☼

When Jaemin meets you at the boardwalk later that evening, he's wearing jean shorts and a pink button down shirt. It has three top buttons undone and for a moment you let yourself stare at his collarbones more than socially acceptable.

You want to think he dressed up for you, but then your eyes pan down to the black crocs on his feet and you think it's a safe bet that he genuinely doesn't care what he looks like.

It kind of makes you like him more.

"So my friends, Jeno and Donghyuck, always hang out at this weird part of the beach. It's like the only strip of public property between the resort's private beach and the university's private beach, so it's barely used. There are these cute little caves too, and crabs scuttle around all the time. I think it's a Salos experience you need."

You nod, only because his large smile is paralyzing your vocal chords. It'd be a miracle if you talk to Jaemin at all during this little trek. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind.

He tells you about his day as the two of you walk down the boardwalk, towards the university. The tone in his voice is light and playful, and when you zone out, he brings you back to reality with a whine and a poke to your side. "You aren't listening to me."

"I am," you say. Because you are. You're listening to the way his voice reverberates against the ocean's breeze. You're taking note of how high his voice gets when he imitates his friends, and how drawn-out his syllables are when he's complaining. You want to tell him all of this, but it sounds strange, like you shouldn't be having these thoughts; not yet. Not so soon.

You walk in silence, only stopping when Jaemin does. "Hyuck hates my crocs."

You're glad he brought up his strange footwear, because it was beginning to feel like the elephant in the room. "Well, you have to admit they aren't fashion forward."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and places his hand on your shoulder. At first, you're startled, but then he bends down to take off his shoes and socks one by one. "And here I was thinking you would be an ally." He snorts and shakes his head, "Anyway, it's just down here."

You slip out of your sandals and follow him down a few wooden stairs until you're under the pier.

Jaemin was right. Under here, there seem to be cave structures, and little pools of water that the tide just couldn't reel back in. Sitting beside one of these pools are two boys, both strangely handsome, and part of you thinks there must be something in the water. Maybe you should drink more of it.

"Y/n, this is Jeno and this is Donghyuck. Guys, this is Y/n."

"Are you a guest at the resort?" The boy with a black rash guard on — Jeno — furrows his brows.

"Yeah, I'm here for a month."

Donghyuck hums. You get distracted by his red hair for a moment, mostly because it reminds you of The Little Mermaid. Then he says a few questionable words, "But Jaemin's never brought around a guest before. Strange."

Jaemin laughs a bit too loudly. "You know what's stranger? I wore my crocs with dinosaur socks."

"Jaemin, you're hopeless. You can't become a broadway star and wear crocs. You'll be bullied by your own costars." And just like that, the three boys forget about the previous conversation and launch into a heated debate about fashion.

So you, not wanting to miss out on any of the fun, jump in to defend Jaemin. But in the back of your mind, the knowledge that you're the first guest Jaemin's ever shown around sticks like a wad of chewing gum.

And that marks the beginning of a confusing summer.

☼

Jaemin's wearing sneakers today, and he says it's because it's his off day, and he can afford to take the extra time to lace up his shoes.

When you comment on how dramatic he is, you receive a serious reply, "I know it sounds dumb, but working two jobs makes it hard to brings sneakers around. I can go barefoot on duty, but then I need something to walk home in. You can understand where sneakers would get complicated since my feet are usually covered in sand.

His logic isn't flawed, until you remember the fact that he wore socks with his crocs, and that alone sounds harder than putting on any type of tennis shoe. Also, he could just rinse his feet and dry them off at the public shower.

But he isn't hurting anyone, so you forget about it. "You work two jobs, huh?"

Jaemin presses his lips together and nods. "The resort in the morning and the university in the evening. It's a simple-enough job, but it definitely takes up the majority of my weekdays. It pays really well, and I need that money for theatre school."

"What's your favorite play? Like, if you could be any character in any play at all, on broadway or off, which would you pick and why?"

Jaemin doesn't ponder for even a moment. "Marius from Les Mis."

"Why?"

"Because... I don't know, I feel like there's more to him than the story tells. Sure, he's so blinded by love he nearly forgets what he's fighting for, but then it twists, and he realizes his love is what he's fighting for. And if I were him for just a day, I'd want to show the audience that it isn't a bad thing to fall in love. It's okay to let happy, safe things consume you. That's what Marius did, and he survived."

You hum. "I never thought about it like that. To be honest, I think I would be Fantine. She really gave up everything for her daughter, and listening the raw emotion behind her song live is just... I don't know how to describe it, but it's something I'll never forget."

"Isn't the theatre magical?" Jaemin does a twirl as he walks, nearly tripling on a loose plank. "I love plays and how a story can be told on a stage. The thought of performing in front of such a big audience, embodying someone else completely, and telling their story with all the passion in your heart makes me long for it."

"Is there a theatre school here?"

"Yeah. It's pretty good, and scouts come around often. I wish I would've gotten accepted into Juilliard, but obviously that didn't happen. I think the officials just assume Salos isn't a real place."

"Na Jaemin, are you making excuses for not getting accepted?"

Jaemin giggles slightly and bumps his shoulder against yours. "Seriously, I sang Waving Through a Window and I don't think I've ever sang anything so nicely in my life. I should've gotten a callback or something."

"You're very sure of yourself. I like that." It comes out strangely, like you tried to take it back before you could even say it.

Jaemin seems appreciative nonetheless, and you happily listen to him talk about how hard it was to gain confidence.

And that marks the beginning of a friendly summer.

☼

For a week, it was acquaintanceship. For the next week, it was friendship. Now, it's something more: you're sure of it.

There's not a bone in your body that doesn't feel strongly about Jaemin, and you don't think you're crazy to assume he thinks the same way as you.

So far, you've spent nearly every day of your vacation with him, and on days the two of you couldn't meet up, he'd call you and the two of you would go on for hours about nothing in particular. It's ridiculous, if you're being honest. There's no logical reason why a boy you met two weeks ago should have such a large effect on you.

But he does, and you aren't sure how to ignore it. You aren't even sure you want to ignore it.

You aren't sure you can ignore it, not when Donghyuck has paid for two tickets on the ferris wheel. He shoves you and Jaemin into one of the colorful pods before the two of you can protest. And suddenly, it's just you and Jaemin, sitting across from each other.

Jaemin looks really pretty. You don't know how he could embody such a delicate word, but he does. He just looks ethereal, and with the sun shining through the pink-tinted windows of the pod, you think he looks even better than usual.

"Y/n, I know I have a wonderful profile but must you keep staring?"

You start and look away before Jaemin can catch the blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. "It's easy to get distracted with you."

"Why?"

Jaemin looks so genuinely confused that you have to burst into laughter. "Why? Because you're extremely handsome, and nice, and wonderful, and sometimes it takes me awhile to process all of that."

"Y/n, are you confessing to me?" Jaemin doesn't look smug, or flirty. He just looks happy, in the simplest sense. He looks joyful, maybe a little bashful.

It makes your stomach do a weird flip. "I guess so."

Jaemin suddenly looks jittery, like his excitement might suddenly burst the bright pink pod open. "Does that mean I can hold your hand when we get out?"

"Yes..?"

And so marks the beginning of a lovesick summer.

☼

"Do you hear music?"

You almost don't hear him, once again, but this time it's because he's holding your hand. With every brush of his thumb against your knuckles, you zone out. Just a bit. He's held your hand every day for nearly two weeks, and you want to say that you will never get used to the feeling, but that simply isn't true.

You're used to the feeling already. It feels perfect, like a missing puzzle piece finally sliding back into its slot. You're used to many things about Jaemin, like the way he always smells faintly of sunscreen, or the way his hair sticks up slightly in the back if he doesn't comb it when it's wet. You're used to him bursting out into song, even if it's hushed and quiet, just because he feels like it. You're used to his odd sense of style when it comes to shoes, and his even odder sense of mellowness when it comes to other's opinions. Except Hyuck's of course, but you've noticed Jaemin has a bit of a soft spot for the six boys who work at the boardwalk.

"What song is it?" You manage to say as Jaemin pulls you into one of the boardwalk's open restaurants. There's a live band inside, singing a mellow song you feel like you've heard before.

"I Like Me Better," Jaemin says quietly.

You look up at his face and notice how entranced he is in the music. "Do you wanna dance with me?"

Jaemin looks somber as he slides his hand across your side and rests it against the small of your back. You rest one of your hands on his shoulder. He gathers your free hand into his and presses them between the two of you, just where your hearts would meet.

The air around you is sweet as Jaemin sways you back and forth. His nose keeps brushing against your forehead, and the comfortable feeling of warmth that pools down to your fingertips makes you want to pause this night forever.

Jaemin sighs and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. "So you're leaving Saturday morning?"

"Yeah," you breathe, "we have tomorrow, if you want to go to the bonfire or something."

Jaemin's grip on your hand tightens for a moment. "Maybe we could go somewhere else instead. Somewhere where we can be alone."

And so marks the beginning of a heartbreaking summer.

☼

On your walk to the little hidden place under the pier, you think of how dumb you must be to fall in love over the course of a month. It's careless, reckless, absolutely idiotic, and yet you wouldn't change a thing about it.

Because Na Jaemin is one of those people you only have the chance of meeting once in your life. He's fleeting, like dew in midday, but he leaves his mark wherever he goes, and you can't help but feel a little thankful that you got to spend some time with him.

However selfish the motives, you hope Jaemin will become a broadway star soon, so that the two of you can cross paths again. Or perhaps, if you can save enough money, you could move down here.

But that all puts a hold on your life. And while Jaemin is everything to you right now, you know giving up your university of choice for him is a dumb move. So you don't do it.

But you want to. You really, really want to.

And when the two of you sit on the sand, shoes and jackets discarded somewhere along the way, Jaemin's lips meet yours. His fingers thread through your hair as he gently pushes you down until you're laying in the sand and he's hovering above you.

He places soft kisses on your lips; innocent, but the soft words of affection he squeezes inbetween each one make your toes curl into the sand once more.

There's sand in your hair, and your shirt, and your shorts, but with the attention Jaemin's giving you right now, you can't find it in yourself to care.

Jaemin's hands feel good on your waist, and his lips taste like honey. He's addicting in every way, and the thought of going without him for even a day makes you want to break down in tears.

But you don't. Not until Jaemin curls against you and falls asleep to the sound of the tide. And you, running your fingers through his hair, let out a choked sob. Because you know you're going to have to wake him up, and when you do, it'll officially be over.

You decide to rip the bandage off. "Jaemin, wake up."

And so marks the beginning of a lonely summer.

[cowboyguts-moved]

excuse me I would love for you to talk about Mickey having an obsession with dry humping and also talk to me more about irritable summer Mickey. Thanks.

Mickey dry humps because it’s blisteringly hot outside and he’s a lazy bastard! Reaching into his pants and jerking off is way too much effort and his limbs are like concrete blocks, he moves as slow as a slug in this kind of heat that seeps through the walls and makes it all muggy and nasty. Of course he’s not going to bother moving if he can help it. This means he lays on his belly with a pillow shoved beneath his pelvis, between his thighs, and he just gyrates his hips completely ass naked with all his blankets and clothes on the floor. This kind of build up he doesn’t feel too often caused by friction and nothing else, no real squeezing pressure just pure rutting, starts in his dick and balls and taint and honestly if he juts his hips enough, his ass too. And he really finds that he likes it and it kinda makes it hotter that he’s all slick with sweat and his dick aches and he’s all heavy and sore and ready to bust at any moment. his stomach clenching as he ruts desperately with his hands all curled in his sheets. its got his thighs trembling and everything to the point where he can’t hold himself up on his knees, he’s just lying down and writhing. and WOW if you had a view behind him his little shelf bubble butt just jiggling over his pillow and the back of his balls rubbing up along the soft cotton too and isnt that like the most wonderful thought. he comes hard and messy and his dicks all red and spent like it hurts just to press it on anything anymore like he lays around in the nude for at least another hour sweating and panting at the ceiling. but he can’t get enough because then, 

he’s dry humping absolutely uh everything because he reached a kind of strong pressure and pleasure shooting up dick he’s never had before so he’s straddling just about everything pants on or off. couch arms, cushions, wadding up shirts and grinding on them fast and frantic, full of little or long low growls. pressing up against hard WALLS and FLOORS this dudes crazy for humping everything like an animal in heat. he craves it. like stripping down and straddling everything he can and bouncing his ass against all pieces of furniture and you know, Ian, if he’s around. I bet he’ll just hump his leg or ian’s ass or his abs or something when he’s not up for that good penetration.

and whats with coming all over his room and living room he’s also extremely irritable and itchy and sweaty and exhausted and he Hate-Naps and Hate-Masturbates and gets in the shower with his cut off and boxers on so he can wear cold wet clothes around the house and he Hate-Spray-Washes the porch from dirt and bugs. like he stands out there in his socks and sandals and a sox hat and underwear and sprays the children passing by. and he doesn’t want to go outside for target practice so like in 5x08 he builds beer can pyramids and shoots those (with airsoft guns because our boy is Safe!) sometimes he shoots out the window towards the sun because that’s direct action. sometimes he shoots ian just because he opens his mouth to say whats up and holy fuck its hot who the fuck SPEAKS when its this hot??? take a pellet to the bicep. most days though, he eats ice out of plastic cups and drinks beer as he sweats through a tank on the couch and watches true crime shows while he makes ian sit as far away from his as possible because if he feels so much as a wave of his body heat he will kill him and replace his company with an ice sculpture made to look exactly like ian

[therecklesssfish]

a list of injuries

my ex-bff james bet twenty dollars in dimes that I couldn’t land a backflip on his trampoline but I drank three glasses of orange soda like shots of tequila & I smelled that seven o’clock west Boise smell of burnt pine needles & cigarette smoke & I WAS READY but james tried to destabilize me with a double bounce but despite all odds I LANDED THE BACKFLIP & DEMANDED ALL OF THE DIMES IN HIS PIGGY BANK but he told me he crossed his fingers & pushed me & I fell on a rusty metal spring that sliced through my pinky & I pushed him back because it hurt like heck & his mom came out & put neosporin on my pinky which looked like a FLAP OF HAM & to this day I never got my dimes & his mom told that I wouldn’t get hurt if I stopped provoking boys

my dad ties a knot in a rope as thick as my waist & hangs it from a rotting oak tree & my brother & i take turns hanging onto the rope while cackling like goblins with pine sap caked to our sunburnt feet as my dad swings us higher & higher until we say uncle but I promise never to say uncle & one day my dad throws all of his body weight into the rope & I am shrieking & laughing & my hands are sweaty so I have to yell UNCLE but my dad does not hear me thirty feet below & I fall & dislocate my ankle

idk if you have ever smelled the stench of the unburied but if you live in north end boise you can sometimes smell it wafting through the foothills while you are cooking dinner when I was eight my brother & I found this dying magpie while my parents were making pasta & we cared for it as the clouds gathered like bruises over the mountains & my brother convinced me that the bird spoke to him & asked for a proper burial I leave out clay pots for fairies to bathe in at night & do not question my brother in the slightest & I dress in my most serious black & pour stolen wine for the ceremony & when I try to pick up the magpie to put it in the dirt it bites my pinky & when it dies the clouds open up & the world smells of dirt & blood & pennies & I bury the bird while my brother eats pasta inside

sierra & I go on this ski trip to Sun Valley with our parents & their friends & one night we are out of our MINDS on this sugar high & we sneak out to this pool where there are these weird middle aged men with ski goggle sun burns drinking beer & the steam floats through the pine trees & over the moon drenched village like a giant breath & this guy stumbles over to us & throws snow on our heads & we aim snowballs like missiles & we are winning the war but they are staring at us & start throwing ice balls & my cheek gets cut open by a pine cone covered in ice & doesn’t heal until March

fourteen years ago my friends and I ate too many pop rocks on valentine’s day while we glued little hearts onto grocery bags sam & I decided to wage a pen war while our teacher ran out of the room & when he comes back we are covered in ink & glue & sugar everyone is silent & there is glue on the desk & I can’t stop laughing & he stares at the glue & says wipe that smirk off your face & slaps me & I run to the bathroom & find a tiny clear marble & stare & stare at it until my vision is blurry

I am nineteen & I see clearly when he spends seventeen minutes explaining why cultural appropriation doesn’t exist at Flying M over lattes I stare at the sock footed sandal wearing north end couples outside & wonder how they are still together & even though I am grateful that we break up I forget about that conversation & two weeks later we sprint through north end neighborhoods that smell like patchouli & lavender wafting from the foothills into yards & we sneak into the pool where we both work & there is comfort at the bottom of the swimming pool where we kiss & I am as silent as a closed box underwater as a destrung violent I hallucinate that we are back together but in the morning my wrists are covered in scars from climbing the fence

The scars on my wrists have almost healed in January when me & This Person Who Doesn't Matter & I are drunk and drive through northern Idaho to these hot springs & he says that it’s pointless unless we are naked & he bites my neck & I am no longer in my

body & over across the river there is a house with a christmas tree inside it & two people are sitting on a couch & I imagine that they are drinking green tea with exactly one sugar cube because they’ve lived together long enough to know each other’s tea habits & I don’t know if anyone else likes tea with as much sugar as I do & This Person Who Doesn’t Matter finishes & for days it looks as though someone smeared jam over my body when I was asleep

I am thirty seven & I am married & She and I are sitting on the roof overlooking the sea of lights & sound the smell of patchouli wafts up from a band playing outside of guidos & the scars on my wrist have faded I am no longer at the bottom of the pool & our legs dangle into the darkness & we kiss & drink mint tea with tons of sugar & with her I remain whole

[michelecrispychip]

Important question. Where do you think Michele and Emil shop for clothes?

OMG, this is important

I hope this answers your question!

Note: make sure to click each word with a link attached! (I also bolded them) They’re all different :)

Note 2: I copy and pasted from google drive, so if the formatting is weird then that’s why

So first we have to figure out what their usual styles are

Michele

It is canon that Sara helps Michele pick out some of his clothes, so surely his outfits consist of both her style and his own. He’s learned a lot from his sister and he actually does have a pretty good sense of style. In the show, he’s usually wearing his Italy jacket over his outfit, so unfortunately we can’t tell all that much what he wears. But one photo I do remember from the show is that Michele has this bomb ass coat:

Like?? That looks handsome af on him, i bet he has lots of coats

He is also seen wearing plain t-shirts, sometimes with jackets over them.

From just these, we can conclude that he looks hella fine in darker colors

Emil

I would say Emil’s style is pretty casual, even more so than Michele. He wears a lot of t-shirts/jackets and also some beach-y type stuff. (didn’t Kubo say that at some point? I thought I remembered a tweet about Emil liking beachwear, but I could be wrong)

So here are some examples of his outfits in the show. He clearly likes jackets/vests, and he looks hot af in them

Now that we know a little bit about their usual styles, it will be easier to figure out the kind of places they shop at/types of clothes they shop for!

There is actually this brand of Italian shoe that I could def see Michele wearing and also converting Emil to wearing: Supergas. They’re basically like tennis shoes except they’re a lot classier looking, but you can get fancier/more casual ones. They’re kind of like Converse, if you know what those are. (they are super comfy!)  So since Emil is the kind of guy to wear a lot of sandals, Michele would take him to get some Supergas.

Emil probably insists on getting some weird shoes like Birkenstocks or Crocs, and Michele is honestly so disappointed™ and he’s def not letting his man walk around like that.

So one of the stores they visit (probably online, unless they’re visiting a place with one of the stores) is the Superga store

And since Emil always has cold feet, they probably shop for funky socks for him!! (I def see his as a type to wear fun socks)

Michele subscribes to fashion magazines because Sara got him into them. A lot of them include super expensive brands (Gucci, Armani, etc.)

They don’t spend all their money on expensive clothes, but they both like to look nice, and sometimes they’ll get each other expensive things as gifts

Michele gets Emil an Armani leather jacket, as well as other jackets bc he looks nice af in them

I feel like Michele would have a thing for watches, so he’d probably splurge on a nice watch

Emil!!! Wearing!!! Rings!!! (besides his wedding ring, of course)

Michele looooves to pick out the cool shit for his man (he knows Emil doesn’t expect him to get him things all the time, but he can’t help it)

Emil actually has a harder time choosing things for Michele, because as we all know, Michele is a particular man, and he’s the one that knows more about fashion

Okay but EMIL BUYS MICHELE A SPEEDO!! He knows Michele would never buy one for himself, so…that happens (let’s be honest, we all want to see Mickey in a speedo)

But they go to the beach a lot, so it’s totally necessary!

One year for Christmas, Mickey and Emil buy each other new winter coats (M and E)

Michele also gets his man more sweatshirts! Plain or printed, they all look so nice on him (plus, since they’re a bigger size than his, Mickey can wear them if he wants hehehe)

Mickey thinks he is punny, so he gets Emil this

In return, Emil buys this for him, but Michele doesn’t get the meme (smh)

OH AND EMIL BUYS CLOTHES FOR THEIR DOG!! (But only things like sweatshirts and booties for when it’s cold out and such)

But also Halloween and Christmas outfits!! (Emil insists that Michele wears the spaghetti shirt he bought him so he and their dog match)

“Look, Mickey! His winter coat is kind of like yours!”

Emil also purchases new headphones for Mickey, since he only has one pair and he fears they’re going to break (he chose blue because he knows it’s one of Michele’s favorite colors)

I could go on and on about this, but I’m gonna cut it short here. Perhaps I’ll make another post like this since this one was super fun! I did a lot of research for this, ahahah. But for some reason I couldn’t find that many Czech fashion brands? I searched for a bit but couldn’t find much, so my apologies that most of brands I specifically named are Italian. 

Thank you sooo much for the ask! I hope this somewhat answered your question, and if it didn’t, I’m sorry and I hope you enjoyed this anyway.

 Have a great day!

[blackkatmagic]

Stray Dog 3/3

As fugitives from Soul Society, they don’t exactly have the chance to get out much. Which might be nice if Shinji was living with a harem of beautiful, busty, voracious women, but instead he’s stuck with seven of the weirdest, most aggravating morons this side of a mental ward.

Just one more thing to blame Aizen for, in the end.

Sometimes, when he cannot physically withstand another sandal to the head or another dirty manga abandoned on the couch or another bout of Rose humming or Kensei and Mashiro squabbling or anything without unleashing his inner Hollow on the lot of them, Shinji will have just enough of an attack of stupid not to give a shit anymore. Aizen or Soul Society or whatever—by that point he’ll freaking welcome them with open arms. So he’ll leave. Just up and walk out, and the first time he did it he freaked out the rest enough that they were on their best behavior for months afterwards, never mind that he’d never made it further than the nearest bar to get plastered.

Unfortunately, that effect seems to have degraded with time. Now he’s lucky if they even give him a few hours of peace when he gets back. But, well, sometimes an hour’s better than nothing.

Shinji always makes sure it’s fairly dramatic, too, his departure. Lots of screaming “good riddance!” and slamming doors with inhuman strength and such. This one’s no different, and he stalks away from their base with his long coat flaring out behind him, the memory of seven startled faces barely enough to begin wearing away at his murderous edges.

He ends up in a lounge a few hours later, like he always does once his temper cools enough that he can start to feel sorry for himself. It’s a tiny little hole in the wall, just enough upscale edge to make it a certain shade of gloomy that appeals to Shinji's sense of aesthetics, and while it’s not the cheapest place in Karakura it’s definitely what he needs.

This time, when he walks in still mildly seething and halfway wishing for a Menos or something to brutally slaughter—which is an improvement to wanting to slaughter his fellow Vizards—the bar is practically empty, the tables scattered around the floor unfilled. There's a woman seated at the far end of the bar, giving off such clear fuck-off vibes that Shinji doesn’t even bother giving her more than half a glance, but otherwise there are no customers.

There's a new bartender, too, and Shinji wonders with faint amusement if that’s got something to do with the deadness.

Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s barely four o’clock on a Monday.

Still, the guy’s cute, though with the tattoos and scars he looks a little out of place in his neat bartender’s uniform—more like he should be in some back-alley joint with bouncers and regular fights and a baseball bat behind the counter, rather than a lounge like this. Spiky dark hair and tanned skin and lots of sleek muscles, and yeah, Shinji is more than appreciative of the eye candy, his bad mood quickly falling away in the face of it. Because chicks are great, and boobs will never get old, but there's something to be said for pinning another guy down and making him scream.

“Good afternoon,” the guy says, putting down the glass he’s polishing and giving Shinji a faint smile. There are slight lines around his storm-grey eyes, almost wariness, but maybe Shinji's reading too much into things. “What’s your poison?”

For half a second, Shinji debates ordering a Blow Job or a Screaming Orgasm just to see the man’s reaction, but regretfully decides he’s not in quite that sort of mood and instead offers, “You any good at a Lemon Drop Martini?”

That earns him a flash of teeth as the man grins and turns away. “You wearing socks? ‘Cause I guarantee I can knock ‘em off.”

I bet you can, Shinji thinks admiringly, studying the very, very nice curve of the man’s ass as he turns away. But it’s a bit too early to be scaring the guy away, so he goes with, “I’ll hold you to that. But you look new. Something happen to Hayato?”

The strong shoulders, barely hidden by the white shirt and vest, lift in a quick shrug as the man tilts the tumbler and deftly pours it into a glass, garnishing it with a twist of lemon before he slides it over to Shinji. “He got married and decided to get a real job. I'm Shuuhei.”

Shinji takes a sip, eyes closed to savor it. Sweet, sour, bite. Just the way he likes it. But that opening’s too good not to take, and he gives the man—Shuuhei—a quick grin. “An’ I'm Shinji. So this isn't your real job, then? Got something on the side?”

A sideways glance from beneath dark lashes almost catches him by surprise, since the guy’s barely looked at him twice, but it’s strangely appealing when coupled with those sharp-stark scars and the blue stripe of that tattoo. “Yeah,” Shuuhei says dryly. “I try and save the world whenever I'm not mixing drinks for stuck-up assholes.”

Shinji barks out his first genuine laugh in what feels like a god-damned age, grinning widely as he takes a generous sip of martini. “Oh? I can see the spandex thing working for you, definitely, but I’ll admit you didn’t strike me as the type.”

Shuuhei grins back, a little wry but mostly amused. “Well,” he says easily, “not every superhero fights out in the open. I like to think I'm more of a back-alley-deals kind of guy. Stop the megalomaniac from the shadows and all that.”

Something twists in Shinji's chest, bitter and bracing, and he tosses back the rest of his drink to cover his grimace. “Takes all types,” he agrees, and tries not to think how very much his situation fits that simple summary.

“Another?” Shuuhei asks, already snagging his glass.

By now, Shinji's more than ready to throw caution to the wind. The guy seems open enough not to take a swing at him, at least. Summoning up his best flirtatious grin, he drops his elbows on the smooth wood of the bar and leans forward, like it’s a secret. “And if I asked for a Screaming Orgasm?” he questions, voice just above a purr.

Shuuhei meets his eyes for three long heartbeats, expression unreadable, and then one corner of his mouth curls up in amusement. “I’d say my shift’s over at six,” he answers, and that flare of heat in his eyes is somewhere between challenge and anticipation. An answering heat curls in Shinji's stomach, and he wants.

Then Shuuhei gives him a full-on smile, bright and a little wicked, and lowers his voice to add, “Beyond that, I really hope you like to top. I think I could use a screaming orgasm of my own after today.”

Shinji's mouth goes dry, a vision of acres of golden skin spread out beneath him flashing before his eyes, and he has to think of Hiyori’s screeching to keep from embarrassing himself.

“Yeah,” he says, and it’s a fucking miracle that his voice comes out steady. “I think we’ll be able to work something out.”

Shinji wakes up alone in the hotel room with bright sunlight falling over him, warm and well-rested and totally at peace with every damn thing in the universe. It’s been years since he last got laid, and every single bit of tension that’s been coiling through his body is gone, eased away by a really fucking awesome night.

And, yeah, it might be nicer if Shuuhei was still here, ready for a final round of morning sex, but Shinji can't bring himself to mind the other man’s absence too much. It was a one-night thing, and both of them knew that going in. Shinji's in no place to be making commitments, not to anything aside from tearing Aizen down and grinding him into the mud. And, regardless of looks that should be able to get him laid without effort, Shinji got the impression that Shuuhei was just as in need of a release of tension as Shinji himself.

He rolls over in the bed, enjoying the stretch and pull of muscles that haven’t been put to good use in far too long, and grins to himself. Yeah. No penny-dreadful romance novel plots here, but it was still one fucking awesome night, excuse the pun, and he’s content with that.

There's a note on the nightstand beside him, a scrap of hotel stationary scrawled in a ridiculously neat, precise hand.

Sorry, had to go to my other job. I’ll buy you a drink next time you come in to make up for the lack of morning-after sex.

–Shuuhei

Great minds think alike, apparently. Shinji decides that a drink with a hot guy sounds very nice indeed, already planning a time to sneak out of the base to take Shuuhei up on it as he hauls himself into the shower. A quick scrub, a cup of fancy coffee from the upscale place down the street, and he saunters deeper into Karakura, deciding to let the other Vizards stew for a bit longer. The bastards can take it, after all, and Shinji's going to milk this not-an-actual-clusterfuck of a day for all it’s worth before he has to go back to the loony bin.

Well, that particular loony bin, he acknowledges, seeing as his feet are headed towards Urahara’s store. But Urahara’s usually up for a spar at the very least, and Shinji could use some downtime. With the others, sparring is training for taking on Aizen, and Shinji doesn’t want to think about that bastard for at least another few hours.

With a peaceful sigh, he rounds the corner and strides into the courtyard in front of the store, waving a lazy greeting to the little girl sweeping. “Yo, Ururu-chan.”

“Hirako-san,” the girl mumbles, blushing. “Boss is inside, if you're looking for him.”

Shinji nods and heads up the steps without hesitating, though he keeps his easy swagger. No point in rushing, after all. “Kisuke?” he calls, poking his head around shelves and stacks.

“Shinji,” the scientist responds cheerfully from about three and a half inches behind him, making him all but jump out of his skin. That earns him a fan-flutter and a very wide, badly hidden smirk. “Oh my. Jumpy, are we?”

Shinji scowls at him, but can't force himself to hold it for long. In the end, he settles for rolling his eyes and reaching out, smacking that stupid bucket-hat down a little further over the younger man’s eyes. “Whatever, ya sneaky freak,” he huffs. “Any news?”

Agreeably, Kisuke readjusts his beloved hat and turns, leading the way towards the dining room. “Ah, not much, I'm afraid. Things have been rather quiet of late. There’ll be a new shinigami stationed here soon, but she’s unseated and nothing to worry about.”

About to respond, Shinji pauses. There's…reiatsu in the air, a reiatsu he’s not familiar with, and while he hardly thinks Kisuke is going to betray them after so much time—

“Urahara-san, where do you want these? Back in the storeroom?”

That voice is entirely familiar and just as wholly unexpected, making Shinji falter even as a head of spiky black hair appears around the corner, half-concealed by a precarious stack of boxes. The arms he can see are strong and corded, the skin honey-colored and smooth where it isn't lightly scarred, and intimately familiar.

“Shuuhei-kun?” Shinji blurts in absolute shock, because this is the man he fucked into a mattress last night, only with the addition of enough reiatsu to leave him at the lower end of captain-class and a katana slung diagonally across his back.

The man pauses, then carefully sets the boxes down and stands up, grey eyes meeting Shinji's with muted surprise.

“…Oh,” Shuuhei says after a moment. “Shinji-san.”

“How interesting,” Kisuke coos, flitting around the two of them with a bright, knowing smile. “You’re acquainted with my new part-timer, Shinji?”

Biblically, Shinji wants to say, but he’s tactful enough to settle on a simple nod. No need to give Kisuke any more ammunition than he can dig up on his own, after all.

“Urahara-san,” Shuuhei says after a long moment of fairly awkward silence. He gives the shopkeeper a quick, meaningful glance and Kisuke’s eyes narrow beneath the shadow of his hat.

“Do you think that’s really such a good idea, Hisagi-kun?” he asks, and there's very little that annoys Shinji more than being left out of the loop. He fixes both of them with a hard stare, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an expectant eyebrow.

Shuuhei, of course, meets his stare dead-on—even knowing him less than twenty-four hours, Shinji can tell he’s not the type to be easily cowed by anything. But the younger man inclines his head regardless, as though Shinji's just won some sort of battle, and steps back. “I'm sure,” he tells the shopkeeper. “Sorry, Urahara-san. We’ll be using your training ground, if that’s all right.”

“Certainly, certainly. Take all the time you need, Hisagi-kun.” Sharp grey eyes stay on them as Shuuhei leads the way down the hall, and Shinji spares Kisuke one last glance—narrow, warning, because Shuuhei is obviously a shinigami or something very much like it, is obviously well-acquainted with the shopkeeper beyond just working for him, and Shinji's going to be having words with Kisuke about keeping important things from him—before following him.

As soon as Shinji's feet hit dirt, he turns to look at Shuuhei, and is almost startled to see the younger man dip into a deep bow, the kind of gesture that no one’s directed at Shinji since the whole disaster with Aizen. It’s…strange, seeing it again.

“Hisagi Shuuhei, former lieutenant of the Ninth Division, under Tousen Kaname,” Shuuhei says formally, straightening up and meeting Shinji's eyes again, firm but faintly apologetic. “I'm sorry for misleading you, Captain Hirako.”

“…Ninth,” Shinji says after a beat, his gaze settling on the pair of numbers inked into Shuuhei's skin. He’s seen them before, every time Kensei has taken his shirt off, but he’d dismissed it as coincidence. A mistake, obviously. “I should have realized.”

The brunet blinks, one hand rising to touch his cheek, and then he smiles a touch wryly. “Oh, right. Not my subtlest decision, I guess, but for the record I wasn’t drunk and I've yet to regret it. Captain Muguruma saved my life the same day he…disappeared. But he inspired me to join the Gotei 13 about fifty years ago, where I heard about what had happened. It was just…something I couldn’t let go of, especially since I started having suspicions about Tousen, Ichimaru, and Aizen. So I left, and eventually found Urahara. He filled me in.”

Shinji's not a fool. He can tell there's far more to the story than those five sentences let on. It’s been almost a hundred years since their exile, after all, and fifty years are a long time to spend alone and hunting. Shinji knows that better than most. And to leave the Gotei 13 on a hunch? To abandon everything so simply for the sake of a man Shuuhei only met once? That’s…

Shinji can't tell if it’s absolutely flat-out moronic or the noblest damn thing he’s ever heard. Maybe a bit of both, honestly.

“I take it you're in on Kisuke’s plans?” he asks with a faint sigh. Yet another life upended that he’s more than happy to blame on Aizen.

Shuuhei nods, grey eyes going sharp and hard, like honed steel. “I am. Shiba Kaien knows my location and what’s going on, and he’s been helping me sneak in and out of Soul Society when necessary. Urahara-san is to going to use that as a backup plan, and I've agreed.”

“Knowing Aizen, we’ll need a backup plan for that, too,” Shinji huffs. He eyes the former lieutenant, the easy way he carries himself, and remembers the sword callouses on his hands. For a moment he wavers, but then, with a faint sigh, he gives in to his curiosity. “Feel up to a spar? That’s what I was coming here for, but after a hundred years I'm tired of kickin’ Kisuke’s ass all the time. Want a turn?”

Shuuhei smiles. It’s definitely not a nice expression.

The sword comes out.

“Let’s see if I can't kick yours first.”

Shinji grins right back, pops a soul pill, and steps out of his body as it falls away. “Now we’re talkin’, kid. How about you put your money where your mouth is?”

Shuuhei flips his zanpakuto around, catches it deftly, and growls, “Hado 58: Tenran.”

Sakanade comes to Shinji's hand like an old friend, and he laughs even as the hurricane comes right for him. This will be fun.

When he wanders back to base some time in the early evening, it’s deathly silent within. Shinji steps through the barrier, brows rising when he sees all seven Vizards sprawled out in the main room. 

Almost instantly, Hiyori bolts to her feet, screeching, “You stupid baldy, where the hell have you been?!”

“Worried, Hiyori-chan?” Shinji asks blithely, pretending not to see the way seven pairs of eyes are studying him for any sign of injury as he hangs his coat up. “Sorry, got distracted over at Kisuke’s or I woulda been back a couple hours ago. Nothing happened.”

That doesn’t quite get a sigh of relief, but Lisa immediately gets up from the couch and wanders away, and Love isn't far behind. Rose takes one more look at Shinji and heads for the kitchen, presumably to start dinner, and tows Hiyori—screeching and snarling, of course—along with him.

About to retreat to his room, Shinji pauses. Kensei is still on the couch, magazine propped open on one bent knee, and Shinji is…curious.

“Oi, Kensei,” he says, and the silver-haired man looks up, pierced brow rising. Shinji thinks about Shuuhei with his tattoos and has to smother a grin. They're more alike than one would think, apparently.

“Yeah?” Kensei asks disinterestedly, attention still mostly on the magazine.

“You remember what happened the day before you disappeared? Back then?”

That gets him Kensei's full attention instantly. After all, it’s an unspoken rule that they don’t talk about the past, especially not the past that close to their unwilling transformation. But apparently there's still enough relief hanging around at Shinji not having abandoned their sorry asses to get him an answer, because Kensei snorts.

“Of course,” he scoffs. “Last time anything was even vaguely normal, wasn’t it? We had a patrol, me an’ Mashiro and some of the Ninth’s upper seats, looking into those disappearances. There was…” He pauses, eyes going faintly distant, and one side of his mouth quirks up. “A Hollow, outside of a little shit-hole town. Big and ugly. And a kid, this little brat who couldn’t stop crying. Big eyes, hair like a black porcupine got stuck to his head. I told him to quit crying and be happy he was still alive. Wonder if it worked.” Kensei pauses again, looking away, and then shakes his head. “Kid’s probably not even alive anymore, damn it,” he mutters, and there's a regretful sort of anger in his voice—something Shinji's more than familiar with.

Shinji wants to correct Kensei, tell him that he’s wrong and that crying kid is actually schlepping boxes for Kisuke right this minute, as powerful as a captain and able to give Shinji a workout in a spar. But Shuuhei already asked him to keep his presence a secret, so he holds his tongue. “Ah,” he says instead, and heads for his room, lifting a hand in a halfhearted wave. “Thanks, Kensei.”

Kensei says something, asks a question, but Shinji is out of hearing before he even gets halfway through, and closes his door firmly. With a tired sigh, he flops onto his bed, stretching out on his back and pressing his palms over his eyes.

One more thing Aizen ruined, he thinks, feeling that familiar, seething fury rise in his chest. Kensei coulda seen the kid grow up to be something great, if we’d stayed. Shuuhei coulda grown up with his hero pushing him to be even stronger. Hell, kid’s strong anyway. Maybe he woulda been a captain by now. Who knows what woulda happened if Aizen’d never crawled out from under his rock.

Who knows.

[swearronchanel]

Who let me watch 5.06?

I should be doing an assignment that’s due tomorrow but ya know due tomorrow means do tomorrow. Lol I know I should be ashamed to be a procrastinator but university has ruined me anyway. I’m tired from literally going to one lecture haha, but in any event I’ve been rewatching mad men for the who knows what time but I thought I’d take a break from all that and watch an episode of CtM & @flyingnonny inspired me to do a reaction post so why not? I decided on 5.06 since last Sunday’s episode reminded us of that camping trip 😂😂  here goes nothing.. 

*skips intro bc I’m impatient*

Cute community moment ☺️

TRIXIE😍 slaying my life

Shelagh looks so good too 😍 and Angela melting my heart!

Why is shelagh forever wearing cardigans? I like cardigans every now and then but all the time, really?

Everyone is sitting outside, Trixie is in a sleeveless dress, as is Barbara, so it has to be warm?? take it off Shelagh

She’s still my bby though even if I don’t always agree with her fashion choices

what gross vejo pinching Trixie’s ass? That’s not ok

And Babs too lmao, creepy old man, die

Shelagh saying “hello dear” aw

But this is like the only interaction between Shelagh and Trixie & that does not suffice !!

ALL I WANT IS FOR THEM TO HAVE AN ACTUAL FRIENDSHIP IDC HOW MANY TIMES IVE SAID IT I REALLY Want it😭😭💕💕 my two fav bbys

I HAVE EVEN GIVEN REASONS WHY & I CAN GIVE THEM AGAIN ***        1) Why not?? Shelagh has like no real friends besides her husband and sort of Sister Julienne?                                                 

 2) just please, because I’m asking nicely                                                     3) When Shelagh was Sister Bernadette she was often friendly/ in the gossip and conversation with the nurses & remember that one time Trixie grabbed her to come listen to Jenny’s phone conversation?               

4) Trixie was the only one besides Sister Julienne to visit her in the sanatorium. That has to count for something!                                             5) They’ve both been on the show since day 1 & have known each other the longest (besides the nuns) why wouldn’t they be friends or least actually speak to each other?

Aye this is the lady who’s fake pregnant

Shelagh wearing earrings though >> here for it

Sorry there will be a lot of gushing over Shelagh and Trixie

And also I WANT TRIXIE’S HOOP EARRINGS SO BAD, where can I find them??

And how do I get her clothes and figure and her everything lol?

PHYLLIS ! My champion

“Would it have killed you to sit down for five minutes and eat the whole thing!” I LOVE HER, SHE IS A GEM, A HERO, A BADASS & IM NOT READY FOR SUNDAY. IM GOING TO BAWL WITH AND FOR HER

she deserves the best

I think this is the only time I’ve ever heard Trixie address Shelagh by her first name?? a prob.

They need to interact more 😭💔💕😍 I will stop saying it when I’m dead even then I’ll prob say it

Actually when I think of it no one ever calls Shelagh by her first name besides obviously Patrick? And Sister Julienne

#MoreShelaghAndTheOtherNursesInteracting2k17aka1962

And I need at least two seconds of them dotting on pregnant Shelagh

Helen looks so good like goals

“I threatened to put one man over my knee but that only encouraged him” HA IM DEAD NO KINK SHAME

I think there’s been a similar joke before but fuck it it’s still funny to me

But seriously everyone loves Trixie lol how could you not though?

Hey Pats, it’s been a while

Lol omg Tim in that uniform.. Not the best costume 😂😂

Never seen Whistle Down the Wind

But you see, Tom and Babs making out as usual, I’m not knocking it lol but this is why Sister J told her to chill when they went to South Africa😂

also lowkey jealous bc Jack Ashton is handsome af and that could’ve been me but it’s all good. He and Helen are adorable together and I’m here for it x10000

Omg I forgot this lady got assaulted

Oh shit I just remembered this is the episode where sister MC is attacked FUCK WHY DID I WATCH THIS

she can’t report it bc she’d get arrested for soliciting wtf

But remember Shelagh wore the headbands in like series 3 (so glad she stopped I was not here for it)? They must’ve gave them to Babs lol

I forgot Trixie didn’t tell the nurses about AA yet

But she looks gorgeous as ever, even with her mascara running

Lowkey nauseas looking at all that fish ugh. Funny becuase they put a grocery store that has a fish market on the block up from where I live in NYC and I hate it  

I forgot about Peter lol and he was in an episode this series whoops

LIKE WHERE’S YOUR WIFE LOL, *I know, too busy for this, I don’t think she’d fit in the series anymore anyway*

Sister Mary Cynthia 😰❣️

Lol she doesn’t sing loud enough ??

Sister Julienne is so cute when she smiles but don’t forget she’s a badass

REMEMBER THE AGGRESSIVE JACKET FLAP BC OF THE IRRITATING SISTER URSULA

How did this girl hide her pregnancy though?

And did her brothers just not realize she was pregnant and the mother wasn’t?

Oh jeez my cousin was a colic-y baby and my parents kept him like 3 days a week when I was in high school & it was a nightmare. I didn’t sleep for so long

Dont get me wrong I love babies. But when they scream when I’m trying to sleep, nope. Return to sender.

Shelagh is so excited about camping it’s the purest and most adorable thing 😭😭And I like her shirt  

Shelagh made Tim copy the napkin folding from a magazine, SHE IS A GEM

“We never have serviettes on a weeknight” wtf did they just not use napkins every day? I’m confused Lmaoo. What am I missing here 😂omg that reminds me of one of the times my family and I went on a cruise (2006, hella long time ago already wow?? 11 yrs yikes) and my brother & cousin were late to dinner and lied to my mom & aunt saying they were at a “napkin folding class” & my family deadass believed it up until 2 years ago😂

Shelagh’s accent is so cute. I’ve said that many times but it’s so sweet. But again why do we just have to accept she’s Scottish with no context as to how/why she came to England? Like I’m sure there were convents in Scotland. I dont even care that much I just will forever be curious as to why it seems she had no life before she got married lol? Like they don’t ever bring up the fact she was a nun, but ok maybe she feels awkward talking about it but what about before? 

They’re so excited it’s so precious, protect this family 😂😭💕💕

Sister MJ is fasting lol I should try it😂

Omg another dumb story, I didn’t realize today is Ash Wednesday and was hella confused seeing some people with ash on their forehead 😂😂 I should give up something for lent but idk what, we shall see. My mom gave up carbs last year & I died bc I lived at home and ate what she cooked and almost all my fav foods are carbs😂

Shelagh referred to Patsy as Patsy, I’ve only ever heard her say Nurse Mount??

lol Tim you’re what 14? you know damn well those arent* bullet holes

at least he has some of his innocence still. I didn’t @ 14

Sometimes I forget I’m gonna be 19 this year wtf. I’ve accidentally told people I’m 16 before and had to correct myself 😂😂

Patrick is excited about this holiday, boy you don’t know what’s coming 😂

HE’S GONNA ATTACK THE LADY WITH A BABY I FORGOT THAT TOO WTF

I wanna fight him

Diane’s anemic ? Or her mum is just assuming

SHELAGH IN HER CAMPING OUTFIT!! The hair scarf and trousers !! I’m so here for it 😍😭

I want to see her in another pair!! yes lets get it 1962. Probably not likely this series but hopefully next series!! Ah can’t wait

Shit this series is almost over 💔💔 but omg 1963 gonna be lit as well?!

Like the space race started/orbiting the earth, Kennedy’s assassination .. wait never mind lol I’m thinking of American History moments. but still a lot of it was crazy world news so maybe it’s mentioned?? first bond film came out in'63, petition for Tim to go take Susan whatever from around the corner to see it since we know he liked the novels

Lots of famous films came out in ‘63 so there’s gotta be some reference.

Fun fact: I love pop culture references in period drama bc I’m lame jk I’m majoring in education (to teach history)

Old news but still relevant: Phyllis’s turn on: Rolodex systems 📇

“CRANE, as in the wading bird or industry lifting equipment, whichever you prefer” LOVE U PHYLLIS, YOU CORRECT HIM

PHYLLIS’S FACE WHEN GODFREY SUGGESTS SHE CAME OUT OF RETIREMENT, IM DEAD

“I shall consider retirement when I’m at the appropriate age”  IM LAUGHING SO HARD, FUCK YEA PHYLLIS. I LOVE HER SO MUCH, LINDA BASSET IS ON THE LIST WITH LAURA AND HELEN OF PEOPLE WHO COULD PUCH ME IN THE FACE AND I’D THANK

LOL SHELAGH JUST STANDING AWKWARDLY LISTENING TO THIS CONVERSATION

“Buenos vacaciones”  I NEED MORE PHYLLIS WORKING ON HER SPANISH I LOVE IT, Ella es oro.

lol the roof rack, bet it was Phyllis’s they borrowed when they moved

PHYLLIS’S FACE OF DISGUST WHEN DR GODFREY SMILES AT HER IS ME ALWAYS

LOL THE THE NURSES & SISTER WINIFRED DYING OVER PATRICK’S SHORTS (EVen though sister W “swears she’s not looking”)

I THINK THE SOCKS AND WHITE DAD SANDALS ARE MORE AMUSING 😂😂

Poor Judith💔

It’s a vicious attack Sister J! But you don’t know it yet so I get u

Here comes summer..😂

SETTING UP IN THE POURING RAIN LOL

Shelagh and Angela being adorable !!

Tim and Patrick proud that  they set the tents up & boom it falls 😂 which is symbolic for me taking exams, I think I did well or at least decent on them and then I find out I failed by like 5 points

Nonnatus table scenes <3 😭

”I’ve seen more dangerous marshmallow bunnies“ lmao Pats this is a serious moment I shouldn’t laugh

Shelagh took off her glasses 😉😏 but fr how is Laura Main so perfect

Patrick put scotch in its lit, pass it over😏

Lol Shelagh drinking is a strange thought but I’m so here for it. Nuns can’t drink right? Idk. Imagine her drinking alcohol for the first time and just getting drunk 😂 we know Patrick and Tim are lightweights getting drunk off one beer so I assume shelagh would too😂

Damn it Patrick, you spilled your cup. Furthermore proving you’re a disaster 😭

LMAO SHELAGH’s “WTF” FACE WHEN SHE ASKS PATRICK WHAT HE’S THINKING ABOUT AND HE SAID THE ULCER CLINIC

LIKE C'MON PATRICK YOU KNOW WHERE SHELAGH WAS TRYNA GO WITH THAT😂

“And if you don’t mind my saying so, you’re not exactly Cliff Richards yourself” SHELAGH 😂😂 another great line of hers, love it

I love their playful banter lol we need more of that 😂 but lets be real series 6 has had some of the greatest Shelagh and Patrick moments so I can’t complain 😭😍

Peter and Barbara is such a unusual dynamic haha

“How is chummy?” Wait does Babs even know Chummy? I don’t even remember if they met tbh

But for real Shelagh did you really think Patrick would just forget about work completely ??

Lol Angela crying because she is petrified of squirrels😂😂and Shelagh running to her is so cute.

Why didn’t she just get rid of the *creepy* squirrel nutkin book? it seemed like they still had it in series 6 haha

rice pudding is I think the same as aroz con leche, lol it’s gross sorry

Diane’s water broke oh shit

the Turners all in the tent playing I spy bc it’s raining haha

I went camping for the first and last time this past summer w/ my sister in laws & her friends, it was awful 😂😂 I got like 100 mosquito bites that became welts, i literally slept in the car the second night & it was mid July fairly south of east coast aka it was humid and sticky af , there were wild horses that walked around..Thank God they brought alcohol cause it was a nightmare I don’t wanna remember 😂😂

ANGELA IS SO CUTE UGH & ANOTHER GREAT SHELAGH FACE😂

lol yes go to a hotel, should’ve done that from the get

So what exactly does Fred run? some civil defense thing?

She’s in labor and can’t even scream omg, I’m screaming

“They are often incorrect in their opinion” Sister MJ is a gem. I want someone to look at me the way Sister MJ looks at cake and the television

Phyllis yelling at Dr Godfrey😂

PATS’S FACE OF DISGUST IS ALSO ME

HOW DO THESE WOMEN GIVE BIRTH STANDING/SITTING UP?? AHHHH

There you are Beatrix, it’s been a while

Patsy being suspicious with the card game line lol. but when is Trixie going to find out about Patsy and Delia?

SHE RIPPED OUT HER WOMB?! WTF OMG IM SCREAMING

THIS HURTS TO WATCH AHH

Trixie and Sister MC to the rescue but omg this is wild I forgot

Fred wtf you can’t be sneaking up like that

DONT LEAVE SISTER MC ALONE TRIXIE

NOO, IM NOT PREPARED FOR THIS

“There are flowers on the table, and feathers in these pillows, that’s all the nature I need to get back to” I feel you Patrick lol, I like nature but not camping

Lol remember Shelagh’s old nightgown? ah I don’t miss it. The bri nylon is such a look™ & obviously has magically powers i.e this miraculous conception.

“..or they’ve been mulled to death by squirrels” IM DEAD HAHA THAT WAS A GOOD DAD JOKE, NICE ONE PATRICK

aw the baby is so precious

Why is the operating room/being in surgery called theatre in the U.K.?? and why is the doctor’s office/practice called the surgery? so many questions from a confused American..

Sister MC by the docks😭💔 she was just chillin with God and THIS HORRIBLE MAN RUINS EVERYTHING WTF UGH

Oh no

SISTER MC JUST UNCONSCIOUS ON THE DOCKS WTF IM CRYING WHY WOULD HURT HER

Patrick even if you were there she wouldn’t have called you, don’t blame urself

it’s not your arrogance sister MC!!

“don’t you even say the word fault, do you hear me, I won’t allow it” 😭💔 it’s NOT your fault sister MC 😰

I forgot how upset/hurt this episode makes me

“The worst thing is that I actually stopped to pray…” my heart hurts

You can’t even blame her for being angry😪

Judith you’re not a bad mother!! This isn’t your fault either

Sister MJ IN THE BATHROOM WITH HER😢😢💔💔 I’m c r y i n

I SAID PROTECT THEM AT ALL COSTS WHY DID THEY HURT ME LIKE THIS

Everyone so quiet at the table..

ILL FOREVER BE PROUD OF HOW BRAVE SISTER MC IS FOR SPEAKING UP FOR HER AND THE OTHER VICTIMS💖😭💔

Russian prison tats??

“I thought at first it was a test of faith, but it was a test of strength. I can bear more than I ever though I could and I can bear it for others because my strength is a gift, from him..” brb sobbing

I feel so bad for Mrs Hills bc I understand she thought she was doing the right thing and was trying to protect her daughter from the stigma & judgment from having a baby born outta wedlock 😭

But damn she almost killed her & now she can’t have any more kids

“I’m a mum, mum” Aw

lol I want children (obviously not anytime soon) but if I do Ima be shook for the rest of my life. Like my kids will  be like grown & I’ll still wake up like wtf I had them?  Lmaoo

SHELAGH’S GREY DRESS >>😍

Patrick jumping on the bed was cute lol

The Turners being cute and an unrealistically perfect family together as usual

Trixie 😍off to her AA💕

“I think it’s about time I came clean..”

Im so proud of her omg. She’s come so far in 6 series 😭💖💖😭

And Patsy and Delia are supportive yess👏🏼

“New truths were being spoken at Nonnatus house, but some remained concealed. While one voice rose, striving to erase its agony in song.”

Thanks Vanessa,, The End 😭