#The Cool Kids sitcom

[youtwitinmyface]

Best TV Shows You've Never Watched: THE COOL KIDS

Best TV Shows You’ve Never Watched: THE COOL KIDS

[zivazivc]

do you think freesia and jd would ever get back together? or will they stay sort-of friends?

I'm not going to lie, I kinda like the idea of them starting to date again and seeing where it takes them. 🙈 freesia sneaked into my heart for some reason (she kind of started this new trend of mine where i make ocs that were created to be dicks and then me just getting protective of them and trying to reason out their awful behavior kasjsdj)

also their ship already has a #1 hater and #1 supporter, both of which are doing it for the wrong reasons...

[lunarharp]

post that reads like a mood swing

[rhobi]

makes a crossstitch pattern that says ‘remember to add tits, violence, and weird scary shit to all your stories’ to remind myself to never make any media for children

[airyairyaucontraire]

I might have said it before but I do like how in Pokémon Horizons Ikue Ohtani isn't just playing Pikachu with a hat on. Captain Pikachu has a distinct voice with gruffer tones than OG Pikachu, and it's generally more serious and less playful. Captain Pikachu doesn't fuck around.

[allylikethecat]

im OBSESSED with the allylore, you seem VERY cool

HAHAHAHAHA I'm so amused by the fact that y'all are calling it my lore and I am fully rolling with calling it Ally Lore. HOWEVER I am not cool in the slightest I am like the dorkiest person alive I just do everything with way too much enthusiasm (because life is more fun that way) and it comes off as confidence 😂 I am so flattered that you think I'm cool though 🥹 I'm really not but you made my entire day so thank you so very much! 🥰 I hope you are having the BEST Thursday ever and that you have a wonderful rest of your week!!

❤️Ally

[emeraldcity1900]

the history of animation in a nutshell

Early 1900s: hey what if comic strips could like move?

Late 1910s early 1920s hey what if we mashed this up with live action people?

late 1920s: hey what if this thing had sound?

Early to mid 1930s: hey what if this had people actually talking and also color?

late 1930s: hey you know that super cool movie that one lady animated with paper cut out silhouettes? What if we did that with painted cells? Would people even pay to see that? Never mind it turns out the answer is yes.

1940s: ah shit most of our animators got drafted and/or hate us now cause we weren’t paying them. IT’S PROPAGANDA TIME BABY. Also haha hitler got hit with a mallet and also the most racist depictions of Japanese people ever.

1950s to 1960s : oh what’s this newfangled thing? Television? What if you could air cartoons on it? Oh fuck no I ain’t paying that much to get the charecters to have different backgrounds and for the charecters to like, move fluidly. Also manga and anime are steadily growing more popular.

1970s: (Ralph Bakshi walks into a comics store and finds a furry comic) X rated animated movie? *cue the screams of mothers and their unsuspecting children now being introduced to the revolutionary idea that cartoons don’t equal kids stuff? WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?

1980s to 1990s: we can have full on animated Broadway musicals? Wait, what do you mean animated movies can count for the Oscar’s? What do you mean now they get their own catagory because the academy still thinks their for babies? Anime and manga are taking off in the west. SWEET JESUS WHAT DRUGS ARE THE JAPANESE ON SHOWING THIS SHIT TO KIDS. But also why is it so fucking good. Maybe some of these aren’t even meant for kids? Wait We can sell toys to kids with cartoons? Wait we can actually put effort into these cartoons on television? The fuck to you mean we can animate in 3D now? What do you mean we can have well animated, well written sitcom shows like the simpsons? What do you mean you can make cartoon charecters say fuck? What drugs are creators at Nickelodeon on? Do I even want to know?

2000s: oh my god, there is this one show that I really like cause it’s really well written and genuinely funny but I can’t talk about it because it’s animated and we all know cartoons are for babies right? Oh look it’s the transformers movie, look how far CGI has evolved so we can make the transformers in a movie.

2010s: holy shit I know these shows are for kids but they’re just well written and have so much meaningful things to say about the world. Wait, it’s cool to like cartoons now? They they have fandoms for this? Fuck yeah I’m in. (Enters one of the most notoriously toxic fandoms of all time) THEY HAVE GAY PEOPLE IN THESE SHOWS NOW? AND COMPLEX EMOTIONAL STORYTELLING? AND ADULT ANIMATED SHOWS CAN BE MORE THAN JUST SITCOMS WITH THE SAME JOKES AND STYLE? WHY IS IT THAT EVERY DISNEY CARTOON SINCE GRAVITY FALLS INCLUDE THINGS THAT GET MORE AND MORE FUCKED UP? WHY DO I FUCKING LOVE IT? WHY THE FUCK DID DISNEY DO THE OWL HOUSE DIRTY LIKE THAT?

2020s: I got this show I wanna pitch but it dosen’t fit into any box that the networks want and also I’m afraid that they’ll just randomly cancel it before I can finish the story I want to tell. Wait, I can just post the pilot on my YouTube channel, see if anybody actually likes this thing I made and just make the show independently? FUCK THE NETWORK! I AM THE NETWORK

[inkskinned]

they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.

but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.

you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.

you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.

you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.

it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."

in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.

someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.

you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).

you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)

and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this

but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.

you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 13

[chap twelve] | [all chapters here] | [chap fourteen]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers

a/n: We've got another chapter here that I absolutely love! Now that ice princess realizes what she's feeling, the shenanigans are that much more amusing~

wc: 7.2k

Chapter Thirteen

Come Monday morning, you were still struggling to grasp all the shit that had transpired over the weekend, the short two days of it feeling more like a lifetime. What should have just been a fun party led to a chaotic fight with your family, and that chaotic fight led you to realize that you had a god damn crush on Eddie that you had been trying to ignore for the past twelve fucking hours. And to top it all off, you still couldn’t remember most of Saturday night, leaving you with the sensation of lost time, with the vague feeling that you were forgetting something vital but not knowing what that could possibly be.

When you finally recognized what exactly you were feeling for Eddie - what you probably had been feeling the past week or so, despite your own obliviousness - you didn’t know what the hell to do with those feelings. You tried your best to play it cool as you and Eddie ate food and watched movies and shared his bed Sunday night, but you were certain he could see your hesitation, could feel your trepidation. It felt like a damn sitcom once you started thinking about it - you had to pretend you didn’t have a crush on the boy you were pretending to date. How much more ridiculous could it get?

You’d already decided there wasn’t a chance in hell you would tell Eddie about this. For starters, you weren’t sure if this was a real crush or if all the fake dating was getting to your head; you would be the person to start confusing fake feelings with real ones amidst all the shit you and Eddie had been through thus far.

And if that weren’t the case, you could simply be feeling this was because Eddie was nice to you - you’d never really felt this attracted to someone before, simply dating because it’s what was expected of you, so it could very well be due to Eddie’s kind nature. Niceties didn’t exactly come easy to you, your old friends, or any of your exes, so you couldn’t let yourself go and develop feelings for the first boy that was simply kind to you. You figured that’s just how he was, how he treated all his friends.

On top of that, you didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment of telling Eddie about this only for him to reject you. The two of you were such opposites, so very different, that it seemed unfathomable for Eddie to reciprocate your feelings - what interest would he have in you, a girl who was rude and impatient and bossy as all hell?

Sure, you’d caught him looking at your legs or your chest a couple of times, but considering that that’s how all boys have looked at you since puberty, you couldn’t take those moments into account - physical attractiveness was surely something Eddie wasn’t too concerned about, if his character was anything to go on.

And, shit, Eddie was so unlike anyone you’d previously been into, it almost felt crazy to even entertain the idea of liking him. This was nerdy, goofy, metalhead Eddie, the kid who was a terrible student, who dealt drugs, who spent hours playing silly board games that you couldn’t even begin to understand - how did all of that possibly come together to create a package that caught your attention? You hated to be shallow about it, but on paper this maybe-crush on Eddie shouldn’t have happened and couldn’t ever work.

So, no, you wouldn’t let him know about this ridiculous little crush of yours, because it would simply pass in time. You’d move on from it sooner or later, meaning there was no need to draw attention to it now. Give it a couple of weeks, and this whole silly thing would be forgotten - that was your mantra when you woke up far, far too early on Monday morning.

Why you were up before the fucking sun was beyond you - one minute, you were asleep like the dead, and then the next you were wide awake. You figured it must’ve been because you and Eddie spent the majority of Sunday sleeping, and now your body clock was completely out of whack. You begrudgingly sat up in bed - realizing with a blush that you and Eddie were practically on top of each other once again - and glanced over at the alarm clock. You groaned when you saw that it was just after five o’clock.

You rose to your feet and shuffled around the bed, remembering that you saw a pack of cigarettes somewhere on the nightstand. You felt around blindly until you had the box and a lighter in hand, tiptoeing to the door with a silent prayer that it wouldn’t creak and wake Eddie. As you closed it gently behind you, a deep exhale escaped you before you opened the door that led to the rickety little balcony attached to the house.

Of course, you weren’t expecting to see Wayne there with a cigarette of his own, his presence causing you to gasp and nearly jump. You seemed to have startled him a little as well, but he was much more calm in showing his surprise. For a couple awkward moments, you lingered in the open door, unsure of whether or not to give Eddie’s uncle space; but he nonchalantly waved his hand, a simple indicator to join him.

“He’s not up, is he?” Wayne asked, his voice gruff but kind. You shook your head, leaning on the arm of the worn-out couch while popping a cigarette between your lips, flicking the lighter until you could feel the nicotine in your mouth, “Nasty habit.”

Wayne’s eyes twinkled at his joke, the humor only emphasized by the deep drag he took from his cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile, amused by the fact that he could say that with a perfectly straight face - it was immediately obvious that he and Eddie were related.

You wrapped your arms around yourself while slowly blowing smoke between your lips - despite your sweater, you probably could have used at least one more layer to keep warm. October was always an unpredictable month for the weather in Hawkins - one day the sun would shine bright, the next you’d be freezing your ass off. Your eyes drifted across the quiet trailer park for a few beats before you looked at Wayne again.

“Not a habit I expected to pick up.” You answered conversationally, hoping he didn’t feel as awkward as you did - you weren’t really sure how to talk to the man who raised your fake boyfriend that you totally weren’t crushing on. Wayne hummed in response, allowing you to study him as he also looked around at the neighbor’s homes absentmindedly.

“Should we formally introduce ourselves, or would you prefer to stay strangers?” Again, you smiled at Wayne’s distinct personality, rough around the edges but so clearly kind at his core. Again, it reminded you of Eddie. His sense of humor was odd, but not off-putting to you - maybe that stemmed from your own habit of speaking plainly and from an emotional distance.

So, you gave Wayne your name and he returned the favor, nodding simply while dropping his cigarette butt in the nearby ashtray. He looked up at you with an expression that you’d seen on Eddie’s face before, which was nearly startling - his eyes were studious, as if he were trying to make sense of you, a stare that you were becoming all too familiar with. You could feel your neck warm a little as you waited for him to say something.

“Relax, kid,” He pointed lazily to the couch, which you still chose to lean against rather than sit on. So, you slowly settled yourself onto the cushion, trying to ignore the worn spring that poked at your back. Again, Wayne studied you for a moment longer, making you a little nervous under his stare, “You seem good for Ed.”

The simple statement took you aback, your brows going up in response, which must have amused Wayne if his faint smirk was anything to go on. You looked down while taking another deep drag, shaking your head a little, though not necessarily in disagreement. Really, you didn’t know why you shook your head. Maybe because you knew you and Eddie were bullshitting everyone, and getting a compliment of that sort from Wayne felt wrong; it made you all too aware of your deception.

He shrugged simply, looking back out at the horizon and the vague streams of sunlight that were just beginning to come up, “Suit yourself.”

“You’re probably the only person who sees it,” You responded smally, taking one last inhale from your cigarette. As if on cue, Wayne held the ashtray in your direction, and you put the cigarette out with a thankful look. It’s not as if you wanted to complain to Wayne, but the words just seemed to roll out of you with ease, “I knew people wouldn’t like me and Eddie dating, but I guess I never thought about just how terrible they’d all be… Or maybe it’s me, fuck if I know.”

You were tempted to grab another cigarette just so you could have something to do with your hands, but you settled for fidgeting with the lighter instead. Wayne turned his eyes back towards you for a brief moment, but the both of you continued to stare anywhere but at each other. It felt so damn odd to be here, sitting in silence with Eddie’s uncle with such ease - it should’ve been more awkward, you should’ve been more standoffish. But maybe after yesterday, your energy was too low to be worried about that sort of thing.

“So long as you’re not causing too much trouble, there’s no harm.” He answered simply, slouching a little in his fold out chair, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably, “You two’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure about that?” You couldn’t help but counter, although not argumentatively; no, you asked it because you simply didn’t believe it.

Wayne shrugged again, meeting your eyes, “That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you simply made a noncommittal face of agreement, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched more sun rays slowly shine in the sky. The two of you sat in a comfortable, companionable silence for a few minutes, although your mind was going a hundred miles an hour - you couldn’t help but find it odd how easy it was to exist in the same space as Wayne, a man that you literally just spoke to for the first time.

You were bombarded by thoughts of your own family and how damn different this was. Most days, it was impossible to even be in the same room as your father, whose domineering energy was oftentimes unbearable and irritating. Meanwhile the man who raised Eddie put you immediately at ease, had a relaxed energy that invited you to him. For a moment, you felt a flare of anger that you never got to have someone kind like this in your life, that your “idealistic family” was the exact opposite of such.

Wayne eventually rose to his feet, grunting a little as he looked down at you, “I got a long day ahead.”

You nodded, deciding to head back inside too; you’d been willing to fight the morning cold for the sake of sitting with Wayne, but if he was heading back inside you sure as hell weren’t going to stay out here. He held the door open for you, and you nodded in thanks while ducking back into the house, trying to make yourself small against the bedroom door so that you didn’t take up the cramped hallway space. As Wayne shut the door behind him, he gave you a kind little smile.

“Make sure he’s up at a decent time,” he pointed at Eddie’s closed door, “he can’t be missing any more school if he wants to graduate.”

You gave a short nod before opening the bedroom behind you, slipping inside as Wayne turned towards the restroom. Your eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, your feet sliding quietly across the floor to avoid tripping over anything and making more noise than necessary.

“Were you talking to Wayne?” Eddie’s voice startled you from the dark, a surprised sound escaping you as you shot a look in his direction. Your ears warmed as your heart beat just a little faster, something that made you immediately want to kick yourself - you don’t like Eddie, you reminded yourself on repeat.

Your eyes had adjusted enough that you could see the outline of Eddie’s silhouette propped up on one elbow in bed. Your voice was quiet with your response, “Yeah.”

Eddie hummed, much in that same way that you heard Wayne do earlier, which caused you to smile to yourself. You glanced at the alarm clock near him as you stood near the bed.

“He said you can’t miss school, so you should probably take me home.” Even without being able to see Eddie’s face, it’s as if you could feel the concern settling in there. Going out on a limb, you added, “Don’t give me that look.”

“You can’t even see my face!” Eddie’s ruffled voice was laced with humor.

“I don’t need to see it to know you’re pitying me.” You laughed a little, but were surprised by Eddie’s hand grabbing your forearm; you hadn’t realized you were close enough for him to touch you, and it sent a jolt through your body.

“I’m not,” You knew he was leveling you with a serious stare, “Just… worried, considering yesterday.”

Your brows turned down, “The longer I avoid them, the worse it’ll get; I wanna piss them off, but not so bad that they start plotting my murder.”

“Why not just wait? We’ll go to school, then you can deal with them later.” Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened for a brief moment before he released you.

You laughed smally, “Well, considering my outfit choices are either ‘teenage boy’s dirty pajamas’ or ‘Saturday night hooker,’ I’d rather go home and change first.”

Eddie scoffed but nonetheless laughed with you; you thought you heard him grumble “Saturday night hooker” to himself, but you couldn’t be sure, as at the same moment he kicked off the bedsheets and stumbled over to open the curtains. You both cringed a little, the sun now high enough in the sky for its light to come through the window. You watched as Eddie yawned and stretched, first twisting his back before raising his arms above his head. Seeing a sliver of skin at his waist, you quickly diverted your gaze, not wanting to be caught staring as your ears grew hot. In a measly effort to distract yourself, you began to collect what few belongings you had lying around the room.

“If it makes you feel better, my dad’ll already be gone by the time we get there,” You started, glancing back towards Eddie, your eyes briefly looking him up and down, “And you can come in with me - that’ll keep my mom from acting hysterical.”

A slight laugh escaped him, “You sure I won’t cause the hysterics?”

You shrugged as you two turned back towards one another, “I guess we’ll see.”

Eddie looked to be in consideration of something for a beat before accepting your response, “Right. Gimme ten minutes.”

The trek to your house was passed in relative ease - with how much he chauffeured you around these days, you figured you probably owed Eddie quite a lot of gas money.

At the house, you two didn’t even cross paths with your mother, who was cooped up in the master suite the entire time - she probably didn’t even know you and Eddie were there, too busy fussing with her extensive morning routine. You tried to freshen up as quickly as possible, fussing with your hair, reapplying makeup, choosing a new outfit. 

All the while, Eddie studied your room, looking to be in total disbelief at how much space you had - your room was double the size of his, you had a walk-in closet, and your own en suite bathroom. You were beginning to feel self-conscious, guilty at how much excessive space you had compared to what little he had in his own home.

When you finally exited the bathroom, you found Eddie studying your VHS collection that lined nearly an entire bookshelf. You wondered if he was impressed by the assortment or if he was resentful of how much you had. Aside from the shelf of movies, little of your personality was truly conveyed in your bedroom - your mother was too fussy about the house to allow you to completely make the space your own. Yes, you had your trophies and medals on display, you had framed photos from your childhood placed sparingly about, you had pretty pastel throw pillows and decor, but otherwise the room was nearly clinical in appearance. Again, you felt sheepish about what Eddie’s impression of it might be.

You led Eddie back out of the house just as quickly as you’d led him in, unwilling to hang around longer than necessary. And, much to your surprise, you two actually made it to school with just a few minutes to spare. You nearly, impulsive leaned in to hug Eddie goodbye, but caught yourself mid-movement, awkwardly spinning around to rush off towards your first period class. You hoped he didn’t clock what you nearly did, and you also hoped the embarrassment didn’t alight your face once you caught yourself and ran off. You did not like Eddie, you reminded yourself yet again.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

As the lunch bell rang out, you quickly scooped your belongings off the lab table you shared with a fellow student, retreating from the classroom without stealing a glance back. All throughout fourth period, you caught Duncan shooting loathsome looks your way, and considering how your weekend had gone, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with him.

You figured he had one of two reasons to be pissy with you: the most likely reason was, of course, the fact that someone slashed his tires homecoming night. That someone was you, but you sure as hell weren’t about to confirm that for him.

The second, and less likely, reason was that you and Eddie actually won homecoming king and queen; apparently, everyone in this school had a shitty enough sense of humor to latch onto that miserable joke.

You found out during second period as you mindlessly streaked watercolors across paper, letting the paint bleed and puddle together. At the work station closest to you was Chrissy, who seemed to be just as mindlessly focusing on whatever she was doing; she was interrupted by a fellow cheerleader, who was being far from subtle when she asked “so, Chrissy, what do you think of the little ice princess over there beating you out for the crown?”

It was clear that the girl was trying to start something, so you simply shot her the coldest glare you could muster; you unintentionally caught Chrissy’s eyes a moment later, and to your surprise she appeared somewhat apologetic. As the second cheerleader walked away, you “accidentally” knocked over your cup of filthy paint water, trying not to relish in the way the girl squealed as it splashed down the length of her leg. You thought you may have seen Chrissy smirk, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

So, knowing that Duncan surely wanted to confront you about something, you hightailed it out of class, doing your best to try and avoid him. You’d had enough confrontation the past weekend to last you at least the next month.

Of course, your running off didn’t dissuade Duncan in the slightest; he caught up to you quickly and roughly grabbed your shoulder, trying to spin you around. Without a second thought, you aggressively smacked his hand, causing him to exclaim with pain while pulling back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You bite, turning your fiery glare onto Duncan, crossing your arms and jutting your hip with all the attitude you could muster. From the look on his face, you knew he was too worked up for something as simple as homecoming - this was most definitely about his car.

A mean scoff sounded in his throat, his tone accusatory as packs of students parted around you two in the migration to the cafeteria, “Were you the one that messed with my car?”

You gave Duncan an innocent look of confusion, although you weren’t overly concerned with it being all that convincing - if your eyes glittered with amusement, then so be it.

“What are you talking about?” You had to fight back the beguiled grin that dared to cross your lips - that would’ve been as good as admitting you were guilty, and you weren’t about to do that. No, you’d just mock him with your eyes, taunt him with your words.

Duncan gave you a mean, challenging glare, eyes narrowing as he took a step towards you. Squaring your shoulders, you refused to move an inch, planting yourself firmly - this boy didn’t scare you in the slightest, no matter how hard he tried, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your response was clipped as the both of you glared daggers, neither of you willing to back down to the other.

“So, your dumb boyfriend, then?” Duncan grinned cruelly, as if Eddie was just a joke to him; your jaw clenched harder, your heart skipping as the need to defend him arose. You took a moment to collect yourself, however, knowing that you couldn’t fly off the handle and accidentally say something you’d regret.

“I don’t know what you think Eddie did, but leave him the hell alone.” Your tone was low and serious as you took a couple slow, taunting steps back, preparing to end this face off before it could continue.

In the next moment, though, Amelia and a couple of Duncan’s friends appeared nearby, clearly en route to meet him; a part of you wondered if they knew he planned on confronting you like this. Seeing the intent in their faces, you rolled your mean eyes, turning to walk away because you just knew this shit was about to get worse.

“Hey, homecoming queen, where you running off to?” Amelia’s sing-song taunting grated at you, and you shot a vicious glare back over your shoulder.

“Anywhere but here, runner-up.” You gave her an impudent smile as you continued to walk away. But you could hear them following just a step behind you, which is exactly what you had expected of them; you used to be one of these kids, after all, so you knew all of their tricks.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.” Amelia’s voice trailed behind you as an annoyed sigh left your mouth. You continued forward, hoping that your posture appeared completely unbothered, even as the look on your face showed otherwise. The group continued to talk to your back, and you fought hard to keep your mouth wired shut, refusing to respond to their incessant taunting.

You rounded a corner as they determinedly followed after you, and when you nearly walked right into Eddie, a sense of relief washed over you; he must have been on his way to meet you, considering this direction was opposite of the cafeteria. He looked startled and then amused to bump into you, until the group of assholes rounded the corner as well, causing his expression to quickly falter. The two of you shared a tired, fed up look - yesterday was one problem, today was another, and it left you wondering if these annoyances would only continue.

“Would you look at that - just the guy I wanted to talk to.” Duncan greeted with cruel, false friendliness. Without ever having come to a full stop, you grabbed Eddie’s hand and yanked him along with you, forcing him to stumble over his feet before meeting your pace as you continued retreating from this bullshit confrontation, “Oh, come on, wait; I just wanna talk.”

“Piss off, he didn't do shit.” You responded harshly, staring ahead with a wicked glare, although you knew walking away wouldn’t stop them from taunting you. You've seen enough of these antagonistic conversations before to know exactly what to expect - they’d find a way to corner you, mock and belittle you, and then once they were satisfied with your misery, they’d laugh and leave as if nothing happened. You loathed to think that you were once friends with these people, that you were once as nasty as them, and so you were determined to not let this crap happen to you and Eddie.

“The hell are you running for?” Amelia continued with a hint of aggression in her tone. Her hand fell roughly onto your shoulder, manicured nails digging into your skin, “What, are you feeling guilty about something?”

Just like with Duncan, you swatted Amelia’s hand but refused to stop for her, your angered glare deepening as you resisted the temptation to look back at her. You couldn’t give her that satisfaction. But, as you expected, Amelia didn’t like being brushed off, so in retaliation she gave Eddie’s back an unexpected shove, causing you both to stumble a little.

And that was the exact switch that she needed to flip, because without a second thought you whipped around to confront her, tugging your hand out of Eddie’s so you could jab a finger at Amelia. As your energy boiled red hot, you could see her torn between satisfaction and fear.

“Don’t fucking start with me.” You threatened as she matched your glare with her own. All the boys stood back, creating a pseudo-fighting ring around you and Amelia as you both waited for the other’s next move.

“Or what?” She taunted as you arched your brow challengingly; your jaw was clenched so tight that your teeth nearly hurt. When you didn’t grace her with a response, Amelia rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion, “Geez, you’re so tempermental these days, it's ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is the fact that you won’t just leave us alone.” You looked around the group harshly, your glower darkening on Duncan before you returned your cruel gaze to Amelia, “I’m not gonna take your shit, so stop trying to intimidate me.”

Again, she rolled her eyes, this time with a condescending smirk, “I don’t need to intimidate you; it’s more fun to get a rise out of you, anyway.” When your face tightened with annoyance, she added with satisfaction, “See? Even that got to you, you make it so easy.”

You resisted the urge to insult her or smack her, resisted the temptation to spew terrible things in her face - you couldn’t take anymore fighting right now, and you couldn’t give her any of the satisfaction that would come with your retaliating. So, you took a couple steady breaths through your nose, your eyes flaring with intensity before you calmed down.

“Whatever.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back towards Eddie, ready to lead him away from this group of bullies.

“Do you even realize how damn transparent you two are?” Amelia prodded again. You wished you were stubborn enough to just walk away, but you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder; her expression was smug, arms crossed with a sassy attitude, “Some of us have started placing bets on when you’ll finally give this up.”

She got you going again whether you liked it or not, and so you mirrored Amelia’s posture as she looked cruelly between you and Eddie, “Give what up?”

“You’re clearly faking this whole thing.” Your surprised, affronted expression only seemed to amuse her, egging her on even as you tried to control the nervous beating of your heart, “You and Munson? Do you think any of us have been buying this? This whole thing between you too is so fake, it's almost sad.”

Putting on a brave, confident face, you bit back with malice, “Really, you think we’re faking all of this? Shows how much you know.”

“Please, I’ve known you since grade school.” Amelia took a challenging step towards you, eyes alight with spite, “You hate being touched, you’ve told me as much - wouldn’t even let Duncan hold your hand or hug you most of the time. But you cling to this freak as if you’re obsessed with him? It's performative.”

You were about to retaliate, but Amelia was just a little faster and a little louder as she continued over you, bulldozing through whatever you may have wanted to say.

“And don’t get me started on the stupid little face Munson makes at you, like he’s asking for permission to do something or that he needs approval of what he says. I don’t know why, but you put him up to this - I can read you better than anyone else.”

A worried part of you knew that, in some ways, Amelia was right - you two had spent so many years by each other’s sides, and had done just about everything together since you were five or six years old. The rapid dissolution of your friendship didn’t mean that you two would simply forget everything about one another - how could you forget the time Amelia stayed up late in the night to help you with a school project, how could she forget the time you instigated a fight with a boy who rejected her?

Hell, you and Amelia had spent more time with each other than either of you had spent with Janet, having sleepovers without her or going to movies and not telling her. At one time, you two were practically attached at the hip, doing nearly everything together from the ages of ten to thirteen.

So, if anyone was going to see through your lie, it would be Amelia - it didn’t matter just how good a liar you were, Amelia knew how you ticked. And, apparently, she’d been paying a lot of attention to you and Eddie, probably trying to catch you two in a lie.

But, then again, if she knew this was fake, why didn’t she say something about it sooner? Was she simply watching and waiting in amusement, anticipating when you’d give up the act? Or was she using this lie of yours to her advantage somehow? Better yet, was she the one lying to you right now, saying anything just to get a reaction from you?

As your angry eyes bounced around Amelia’s face in search of the truth, your expression only darkened, feeling fired up and eager to fight. When she simply raised a mocking eyebrow - daring you to prove her wrong - your stubbornness flared to the point that your fiery frustration boiled back down to icy contempt. 

Without a moment of hesitation, you gave her a smart look, your tone condescending and cold, accentuated by a mean smirk, “Well, how about you try reading this, you jealous bitch.”

With a flip of your hair you marched back towards Eddie, completely blind to the potential repercussions of what you were about to do. Your determined eyes met his confused ones, but you didn’t take a moment to second guess yourself as you threw your arms around his neck, knotting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. For a split second, you could see the alarmed realization in Eddie’s face, but just as quickly you were drawing that handsome face down towards yours.

Your lips crashed together like rocky waves, noses bumping and teeth practically clashing; the kiss was sloppy and haphazard, the farthest thing from hot, and yet your entire body pulsed along with the excited leap of your heart. Eddie went rigid against you as if in alarm, and so you kissed him encouragingly, as if silently insisting that he get it together. When you tightened your grip on his hair and pressed your body flush against his, you could feel Eddie’s shoulders relax, could feel the exact moment that he gave himself over to you.

Once Eddie’s lips moved wantonly against yours, sparks flew through your entire being, your heart drumming aggressively in your chest as heat pooled in your center. In sync, you and Eddie melted together, a lithe arm snaking around your waist and pressing firmly against the small of your back; the flex of his fingers along your spine sent another surge through your body, a satisfied sigh daring to escape you.

God, you felt fucking weak in the knees, like a melting puddle in Eddie’s arms; as if to keep yourself upright, you cling to him even tighter, your lips suddenly full of a hungry, desperate fervor. Eddie’s kiss was inexperienced and tentative, and yet you found him utterly intoxicating, his mouth tasting malted and smoky as if he’d recently had a cigarette.

You were consumed by the moment, forgetting yourself as your tongue teased at Eddie’s lower lip; perhaps for the best, it caused him to hesitate, even as you felt him gasp against your lips. For a moment, he pinned you tighter against him before bringing the heated kiss to an end, pulling back with a deep breath as he watched you through his lashes.

Short breaths caused your chest to press against Eddie’s in a way that you tried to ignore, your hooded eyes staring at the shiny tint of your gloss that had transferred to his full lips. Electricity coursed through you, your body sensitive and heated as you finally met Eddie’s attentive, fraught gaze; as you stared, your mind was too frazzled to even think straight.

As if he could tell you were reeling, Eddie composed himself to the best of his ability, taking a step back, but keeping his hand securely on your back as if to keep you upright. Coming back to yourself, you blinked and attempted to correct your expression, nearly too embarrassed to look back at the group that was surely ogling the two of you.

In an effort to appear entirely unaffected, you brushed your hair back from your face and huffed as you met Amelia’s eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were still probably large with surprise, but you attempted to give her a smart, mean look; your voice was weaker than you would have liked as you asked accusatory, “You perverts enjoy that?”

Eddie, too, tried to put up a calm and collected front, using his hand on your back to guide you in the opposite direction of your former friends. While flipping the bird over his shoulder, he attempted to give them a self-satisfied grin, although to you it was so clearly false. Much like you, his tone wasn’t entirely convincing, “Go find someone else to torment.”

As the two of you continued down the hall, you found yourself momentarily hypnotized by Eddie’s features, mesmerized by each tiny detail of his eyes, his mouth, his skin. When he looked forward again, you quickly scrubbed away the look of uncertain elation on your face, forcing yourself to put on an impassive expression. As you stared mindlessly ahead, you had to resist the temptation to press your fingertips to your swollen lips, trying not to be so damn in awe of the fact that you kissed Eddie.

The trek to the cafeteria was passed in total silence, as if neither of you knew how to strike up a conversation after that; your cheeks were warm as you kept stealing glances up at Eddie, who faced forward as if determined not to meet your eyes. The kiss played in your head over and over again as if it were a goddamn movie, the reel on a loop as you thought about his musky scent engulfing you, his wild hair tickling your face, his dexterous hand holding you close.

You could feel heat rising all the way up your neck and ears now, causing you to nearly giggle as you suppressed a grin. You thought you may have caught Eddie glancing at you, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to check in case you two met eyes - that would most certainly make you laugh like a schoolgirl, and you were not about to do that.

You were at odds with yourself - your silly, childish side was practically fawning over the damned kiss, meanwhile your colder, more adamant side tried to shove the giddiness down. You were supposed to be moving on from this crush on Eddie, not making it worse. You shouldn’t have been stupid, you shouldn’t have kissed him, but you got caught up in the heat of the moment, allowing your pride to outweigh your head.

But, shit, that kiss was too good, and you just knew you’d be thinking about it for the rest of the week. You were an absolute idiot for kissing Eddie like that, and you wanted to kick yourself for it. You had to wonder what the hell Eddie was thinking, what the hell he’d say about this later; you both clearly figured that now wasn’t the time, hence your silence, although you feared the inevitable discussion that would come from this.

With each glance you stole up at Eddie’s annoyingly attractive face, you grew more and more worried that maybe you upset him by doing that. Unfortunately for you, now was one of the few times he seemed guarded, because you couldn’t read his straight expression in the slightest. You figured he must’ve understood why you kissed him, but you also suspected that it made him uncomfortable, even as he kissed you back just to appease the onlookers.

You already knew Eddie was a good actor, always putting on a performance for whoever was around even if they were his friends, so his ability to seamlessly slide into the kiss was terribly convincing. In that way, you were lucky, because neither of you looked stupid in front of your attempted bullies. But not so luckily for you, that kiss was far too enticing, as your heart still beat rapidly in your chest and your head was still fuzzy with confusion.

As you two entered the cafeteria and Eddie threw up that easy, joyful smile that often rested across his lips, it reaffirmed that, yes, he was acting, doing exactly the thing you asked him to in this little game of make-believe. You were almost mesmerized by how easily he played his part, guiding you through the lunch line and then to your table, tugging your chair closer to his so he could rest his knee against yours or throw his arm over your shoulder.

It went from being mesmerizing to annoying, because how could he so seamlessly put on these fronts when you were still struggling to regain your composure? How could he laugh and tell stories while his hand was on your thigh and making your entire body feel static? God, it was almost pathetic how worked up you’d gotten, and you just prayed that no one drew attention to it.

As lunch went on and Eddie kept everyone entertained, something began to nag at you that you couldn’t quite place, like a pressure at the back of your skull trying to remind you of something. All throughout the hour, the nagging grew as the kiss played through your mind again and again, even as you tried to think about literally anything else.

While trying to place what was worrying at your mind, you traced your finger lightly along your lower lip, back and forth in an unconscious motion that you weren’t aware of until your gaze flicked over to Eddie. His eyes were locked onto your lips, even as he spoke to the rest of the group, though his speech seemed to slow a little. You quickly dropped your hand into your lap, your body tightening nervously.

You realized that what you felt was a sense of familiarity, that there was an incomplete memory in your head on the verge of coming back to the surface. It was almost as if… kissing Eddie reminded you of something else, recalled another moment in some way. As you lingered on this, it almost seemed as if you already knew his musky scent, his plush lips, his lingering touch. But that was crazy - why would any of those things be familiar to you?

Had the kiss with Eddie simply been similar to a kiss you’d had with someone in the past? Perhaps you were confusing moments, befuddling sensations, because you most certainly hadn’t kissed Eddie before. Nothing about this should have stirred some kind of half-remembered moment, yet, you couldn’t just shake off that peculiar feeling.

You’ve never kissed Eddie prior to today, that couldn’t have happened, so why were you somehow under the impression that you had? When would you have done something that ridiculous and bold and thoughtless?

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks - the hours lost to your mind, waking up in the van, Eddie’s nerves throughout the morning.

Did you kiss him at the party?

With an anxious skip of your heart, your apprehensive gaze flicked back over to Eddie, who was caught up in telling a new story that you hadn’t been listening to you. You drank in his features with a mixture of desire and dread, torn between the two parts of yourself. You couldn’t have kissed him at the party, right? Even if you were drunk off your ass, that seemed like the kind of thing you wouldn’t so easily forget. But you had forgotten so much of that night, had a gap in your memory the size of a canyon… anything could have happened in those however-many hours that slipped by you.

Staring at Eddie’s lips, a wave of nerves crashed over you, and you had to force yourself to look elsewhere. If you did kiss him, why wouldn’t he have brought it up? Why wouldn’t he have asked about it? You must have made him uncomfortable, must have done something that he didn’t like, and he’d rather ignore it than ever address it again. And like an idiot, you kissed him again today, which probably did nothing to make Eddie feel any easier around you.

That was all the confirmation you needed to decide that you could never tell Eddie about this crush of yours - if he liked you in that same way, you would have already known about it. He would have mentioned that supposed first kiss, right? But because he hadn’t, you knew it wasn’t a subject he wanted to address.

And, so, this kiss wouldn’t be discussed either, you decided. You could ignore the butterflies in your stomach for Eddie’s sake, you could go on pretending that everything was perfectly fine between the two of you. You had to pretend.

With a dejected slump of your shoulders, you crossed your arms and slouched; Eddie’s hand still rested easily atop your thigh, and the way you lulled in the seat caused his fingertips to brush under your skirt a little, sending a bawdy jolt up through your center. You stole a timid glance at him from the corner of your eyes, watching as he realized his hand was higher on your leg before he pulled it back with a start.

There was no way Eddie liked you back, and you sighed to yourself, already missing his warm skin against yours.

.

.

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie

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@mewchiili @miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu

@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola

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@stormgrl19 @swiftsgirlfriend @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

[kandlewick]

as someone who is much too old to be enjoying classes with a bunch of teenagers, the thought of being summoned by the carriage as a full grown "i literally dropped out of college please don't give me grades or I'll cry" adult is such a funny idea. like, no ill definitely take that custodian job that you offered a child, Crowley. give me that full room and board. you're not too proud to live in a ramshackle house that comes with a free cat roommate. that sounds fantastic.

being actual nrc staff sounds like so much fun. these guys are quirky and weird but they're all so unique that you can't help but enjoy each of them. Crowley may be sort of useless but like, his heart(?) is kinda maybe in the right place. Crewel might gives you nervous hives because he's sooooo pretty and that thing he throws around makes your skin crawl but like... he's cool. Trein may appear to be a hardass (and he is) but unlike everyone ELSE on campus, he's genuinely not a bad guy. he's pretty nice for being an old man. he's got loving daughters and a cat and YOU have fake adoption papers. Vargas is. Vargas. you have to admire a man in his adult years that keeps up with his training. back in your world you were nothing more than a couch potato but look at you now. you can run a mile without collapsing in a puddle of sweat. he means well when he forces you to eat eggs with him. and then there's Sam. man what a cool dude. you're the first one he comes to when he needs a helping hand and he pays you so well for what little you do. he's a real brother in arms in this capitalistic society. easy on the eyes too.

but anyways!! these kids need actually good direct adult influences which you could totalllyy provide. you know those sitcoms with the words of wisdom from that weird guy that's on the other side of the fence? yeah that sounds like fun. you could totally pull that off. 1

you need money cause Crowley forget your paycheck? hey, azul. adults have different labor laws so that means you can work past 10 during the week days AND can operate a ladder and box cutter. you wanna hire us sooooo bad it makes azul look stupid.

also lilia gets another cooky adult to hang out. it's a win, win. let's raise a pet rock together or something. give silver a brother.

[todayontumblr]

Tuesday, September 26.

Flula Borg presents: '90s nostalgia.

The 90s, we knew them well; 'twas the one decade to rule them all. The Simpsons was as good as it has ever been. Princess Diana stole our hearts. For reasons still unclear, our species decided to clone a sheep, whom we christened Dolly. Bill Clinton was out and about. Kids and adults alike would escape reality for the havens of the Super Nintendo, PlayStation, Nintendo 64, or Game Boy Color. The McMansion became a mainstay of American architecture. The Cool S reigned supreme.

Generation X were able to enjoy the cultural fruits of rave, grunge, Britpop, hip hop, drum and bass, and Eurodance. And it was a golden era, perhaps the golden era, of the sitcom: The Fresh Prince, Cheers, Seinfeld, Family Matters, Married... with Children. These were days to kick back in an armchair, complete with a built-in refrigerator, and watch and watch every last hour of the finest television our species has to offer. It was a tall ask, but someone had to do it.

Fortunately, that man is very tall, German, and very funny. His name is #flula borg. You know him, more likely than not. And he has most graciously plucked some achingly 90s delights from the dashboard, for your viewing pleasure. 

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Do you have any headcannons for the paradise lost gang? I'm dying for more of my healers.

Paradise Lost is my favorite set of character, of course I have hcs about them. My beloved disfunctional sitcom family that's somehow a hospital <3

Paradise Lost hcs

Everyone in Paradise Lost is on something. There's no way Morax can be so chill without some weed in his system

The only Paradise Lost citizen that graduated high-school was Bathin and he left

Lucifer was born in his 30s, he was born with a doctorate in every major

Becoming a citizen in Paradise Lost is almost impossible. Both Lucifer and Gamigin need to give you a vibe check and you have to learn healing magic.

Since Paradise Lost was founded after Lilith's disapearance, there are no native Paradise Lost citizens, the closest being Gamigin and Jjok

During Sundays where nobody in Paradise Lost works, each of the nobles has to come up with a fun family activity.

Be it board-games, movie marathons, walks through the forest, anything, they have to all do it together during Sunday

Lucifer has a picture of God or Jesus in every room of his castle because he is a true Orthodox Christian

Even though Lucifer has his own room in his own castle, he preferes sleeping in Gamigin's bed with him. He likes cuddling with the young dragon

Marbas is allowed untied whenever he's not dealing with patients, but he sometimes keeps the restraints on even when he's off duty

Lucifer sees everyone else as being beneath him, but he cares for them like they were children or pets

Lucifer never goes to meetings with the other kings because he doesn't like how often they happen and how little is actually done with them.

Morax has a facebook account where he posts low quality edits of him and the other people in Paradise Lost. They always get one like and it's from Lucifer.

Marbas has a brick phone because it's the only one he can't break with his bare hands. He sometimes calls his 'friends' from other regions with it, but he has no phone attiquit. He would call someone and just ask them for stuff with no hello, no small talk, no nothing

Buer is the best with phones in the whole country. He also didn't pass 5th grade tech lessons about how to make a folder on Windows. He has what used to be the latest phone model when he left Tartaros, but he only uses it to call patients.

Gamigin doesn't have a phone and Lucifer prohibited him from touching the internet. But Lucifer does give Gamigin his phone to play on during breaks or stuff

Lucifer has a fancy phone that he only uses to like Morax's posts on facebook and ignore the mail the kings give him

Depending on the type of meeting and the availability of his staff he will either take Gamigin or Morax with him during diplomatic travels.

He takes Gamigin most of the time, but if the subject is mainly about the atrocities of war he brings Morax. Morax is an airhead with no self preservation, he's used to seing people dying left and right in gruesome manners, but Lucifer would prefere to protect Gamigin from the sort of trauma

Everyone in Paradise Lost is devoted to Lucifer, but Gamigin fluctuates between "wow, he's so cool, I need to impress him" and "my king can beat your king in a fist fight"

Gamigin's also the noble that Lucifer spoils the most. He lets Gamigin do basicly what he wants around the country and he even lets him touch his angelic body.

Whenever there's a long ride from Paradise Lost to a different country, Lucifer sits Gamigin on his lap and let's him sleep there. If anyone speaks louder than a whisper, Lucifer will glare them down.

Gamigin is the favorite kid and by a lot

It's bordering on platonic yandere, but we'll keep it light for this post (unless you want some darker stuff, feel free to ask 👀)

I've said this before and I'll say it again: there is no official uniform in Paradise Lost, Marbas just hates Buer in particular (and he wants to rip the clothes off him)

Lucifer has a photo album of all the memories he had with his brothers. There are some photos with Gabriel, Michael and Raphael in there as well

[lives-in-midgard]

🎄Beautiful Miracle🎄

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Summary: When your car breaks down in a small village you luckily find a bakery to stay in.

Word Count: 1095

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic for my Christmas special hosted by the lovely @buckys-wintersoldier. I hope you like it! 💗

Dividers made by @saradika 💗

Prompt 1: Bakery AU

Masterlist | Fluffcember Masterlist

It’s the first day of December and it has just started snowing. You were driving through a small village you had never been to before when suddenly your car broke down in the middle of the road. You were just able to pull over to park your car in an empty parking lot. You tried to start the car again, but it didn’t work.

“Noo, that can’t happen now. Not now when it’s so cold outside.” You said to yourself. After another try, you decided to call a car service station. They told you that it would take an hour or more for them to get here. So, you decided to take your bag, get out of your car, and look for somewhere to stay. You took a few steps and then saw that there was a small bakery.

Maximoff’s Sweets

You smiled and opened the door to the bakery. The air was filled with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. Everything was decorated with Christmas decoration and a Christmas carol was playing. You walked around and noticed that this place looks really cozy and beautiful. You couldn’t see the owner of this shop, but you could hear someone singing.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly.” You heard the soft voice more clearly now and had to smile. Then a door opened and a beautiful young woman with red hair walked out of a room from the back. She had a plate with cookies in her hand and immediately smiled when she saw you.

“Hello and welcome to my bakery.” The owner smiled at you and placed the cookies in an empty spot.

“Hi, this is a really wonderful place here.” You confessed and looked around and then back at her.

“Thank you. This really means a lot to me. Especially because it’s my first Christmas here.”

“Oh, congrats on that.” You said and the woman had to chuckle. She looked so beautiful and lovely.

“What can I offer you?” She asked and you looked at it all deliciously.

“Umm, I’m not sure. This looks all so delicious, what would you recommend?” You asked her nervously.

“How about these cinnamon rolls? They are really good and a new recipe I tried.” She pointed to the cinnamon rolls, and you nodded.

“Sounds good. I’ll take this and a coffee please.” You answered and Ms. Maximoff turned around to make you a coffee. She put the dessert and coffee on a plate and then walked with you to a table. You sat down and she placed everything in front of you.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked shyly.

“Of course not.”

“Okay, great, because my new cookies just came out of the oven and need time to cool. I’ll be with you in a moment.” She went back, made herself a cup of coffee and then came back to you. She sat down across from you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I‘m Wanda Maximoff.”

“Hi Wanda, I‘m Y/N.“

“So, what brought you to my bakery?” Wanda asked and you told her the story of your car and how you luckily found her warm and cozy bakery. Wanda listened intently as the two of you drank your coffee and ate your dessert.

“Wow, that tasted so good.” You complimented her after eating the cinnamon roll.

“Thank you, love.” You blushed and looked out the window for a second and saw that it started to snow more.

“What do you like to do when you’re not at this wonderful bakery?” You asked Wanda as you looked back at her.

“Well, I love spending time with my brother and some friends, I love finding new recipes for all kind of stuff, and oh I really enjoy watching sitcoms.”

“Sounds really cool. What’s your favorite sitcom?”

“The Dick Van Dyke Show. I loved it when I was a kid and I still do.” Wanda told you.

“And what do you like to do when your car doesn’t break down in front of a bakery?” Wanda asked and you had to chuckle at her question. You told her about your hobbies and talked for a while until you got a message on your phone.

“Sorry.” You apologized and looked at your phone.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled when you saw the message from the car service station.

“What’s wrong?” Wanda asked.

“It’s the car service station. It will take them a few hours to get here because of the snow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but hey, you’re lucky you ended up here.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You smiled at her. A few minutes passed before Wanda said something again.

“Hey, I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears.”

“If you're interested, maybe you could help me with some cookies.”

“Yeah, sounds great.” You said and Wanda smiled happily. She showed you the kitchen where she makes all her desserts. Wanda then gave you an apron and you tied your hair into a ponytail. Then she showed you the recipe and started to put everything you needed on the table. You had fun helping Wanda bake the cookies and when you were done you put them in the oven and Wanda gave you a cup of hot chocolate. You stood next to her and talked for a few minutes until Wanda got the idea to decorate the cookies she had baked before you arrived. When you were almost finished, you received a message that the car service station will be here soon.

Wanda decided to give you some cookies and when you wanted to pay, she said that wasn’t necessary. You insisted that you wanted to pay, but Wanda was a little more stubborn than you, so she won. You put your jacket on and were a little sad to leave now, but you know where this bakery is so you could come back anytime.

“Goodbye, Wanda.” You said before opening the door.

“Wait.” Wanda shouted and ran towards you. You turned around and looked at her confused.

“I really enjoyed this afternoon with you and thought you might like to meet me again.” Wanda asked.

“I also really enjoyed it. I can give you my phone number, so you can text me.” Wanda nodded with a smile, and you gave her your phone number.

“See you soon, Wanda.” You said before walking out.

“See you soon. “You walked out with a smile, happy that your car broke down here and not somewhere else. Otherwise, you probably would never have met Wanda.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @yelenasdiary | @youralphawolf72 | @severelyuniquereview | @mrs-bucky-barnes-73

[beautification-tales]

The Bunny

A caption Tale

Barbara was smiling as took photos in her bunny costume. “Do you think the kids will like these photos Luke?” She asked her friend and photographer. He looked at her through the camera lens and nodded with a grin. “They're going to love them. You're a natural with those rabbit ears!”

Barbara smiled knowing that her first grade students would get a kick from seeing their teacher dressed as a bunny for Easter. Luke continued to snap photos completely bored. He agreed so quickly when Barbara asked for his assistance with taking photos. He honestly thought Barbara was flirting with him when she said. “I bought a new costume and I need you to take pictures.”

But here he was, lying on the floor with a camera pointed at Barbara, who was frolicking around with the same enthusiasm as a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t help but feel like he was in a sitcom episode. He quickly closed his eyes and imagined her in a different kind of bunny costume.

“Alright, let’s try some action shots!” Barbara exclaimed, hopping towards him. Luke snapped away, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand. Luke aimed his camera as he felt his dreams shoot at her. The flash was like a strobe light in a disco,

capturing Barbara’s laughter and the twirl of her fluffy tail.

Barbara began to feel extremely hot. It was as if the flash poured heat upon her as her bunny costume felt like a sauna. “Hey Luke can I lower my zipper a bit? The suit feels a bit warm.” Luke nodded, trying to keep his cool. The costume was a bit too tight, and Barbara felt like she was suffocating. She reached behind her neck and with a quick zip, the costume loosened, allowing a gust of cool air to hit her skin. The relief was instant.

The heat increased as Luke continued to snap photos. “I feel a bit woozy.” Barbara said as she stumbled trying to find balance on her heels. “Wait… when was I wearing heels?” She looked down to find that she had on black stiletto heels on her feet. The room spun and she reached out for something to hold onto.

Her hand grazed a table and she looked up to see her lips had plumped as her cheekbones became more prominent. The heat became unbearable as she lowered the zipper revealing her enlarging breasts. Barbara looked down to see that under her costume was a tight black leotard. It clung to her body like a second skin, highlighting every curve and contour. She gasped as the reality set in. The bow tie sat rested on her neck. The pink bunny suit fell at her feet. A new pair of black bunny ears sat on her head as her hair became long and luscious.

Her eyes widened and she began to panic, her heart racing as the fabric of the leotard grew tighter and tighter. “What’s happening?” She shrieked. Luke looked up from his camera, his jaw dropping at the transformation. He enjoyed seeing his dreams become reality. The room grew brighter, and Barbara could feel the fabric squeezing her tighter with each flash of the camera. She looked down again and noticed her waist was now cinched in and her hips had widened dramatically.

Luke smiled as he grabbed at his crotch. “Now this is a photo shoot!” Luke continued to take photos as Barbara felt her body move into sensual poses. “What did you do to me?” Barbara asked unable to control her body as every flash of light made her feel warmer.

“It’s all in the camera, baby!” Luke said, his voice deep and hypnotic. Barbara looked into the camera and felt a strange compulsion to obey his every command. She could feel the camera lens caressing her, moving with her every move, capturing every inch of her new form.

“Why does this feel so good?” Barbara thought to herself as she struck pose after pose, her body moving in ways she never knew it could. The leotard was stretching and molding to her new form, accentuating every curve and leaving nothing to the imagination. She felt a strange mix of fear and excitement as she looked down at her new body. Her once plain Jane look had been replaced by the image of a bombshell bunny, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of power from it.

“Mmm let’s take some photos outside Luke baby.” Barbara’s voice had a new seductive lilt to it. Her eyes were glazed over as she followed the instructions of the camera lens, her body moving in a way that was both mesmerizing and unfamiliar to her. Luke nodded eagerly, his mind racing with the possibilities of the new direction this photoshoot was taking.

“Sure thing Babs!”

[vintagetvstars]

Ted Bessell Vs. Dick Van Dyke

Propaganda

Ted Bessell - (That Girl, It's a Man's World) - He was so cute as Marlo Thomas's awkward, perpetually cock-blocked by network censors, boyfriend on That Girl. Also good in It's a Man's World, a one season wonder that was one of television's first attempts at a found family show, about three 20-something men raising a kid on a houseboat.

Dick Van Dyke - (The Dick Van Dyke Show, Diagnosis: Murder, The Carol Burnett Show) - First of all he’s a hilarious comic: he has impeccable comedic timing and his physical comedy talent remains one of the best of all time. Second of all he can dance AND sing AND act— truly a renaissance man. (He is one Oscar away from an EGOT, which is very cool!) Also, those eyes and dimples? There’s a reason he’s so shippable with everyone from Julie Andrews to Mary Tyler Moore: he’s a certified cutie! His looks combined with his talents and personality definitely make him THE hottest vintage TV man.

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Ted Bessell:

Dick Van Dyke:

That twinkle! The physical humor! The wholesomeness! I love this man!

Rob Petrie (his character on the Dick Van Dyke Show) is one of the few good sitcom husbands. he's good at his job, he talks issues out with his wife and stands by her, and he's genuinely very funny and lovable. and that's not even getting into how brilliant his physical comedy is

His smile is charming his swag is unparalleled he plays a devoted tv husband and there’s nothing hotter than making me laugh

more like dilf van dyke am i right

[haveyouanytime]

obsessed with ur rust domestic blurb we need more of that vibe

another blurb for old dog rust :3 | cw: implied age gap (reader 18+), smoking cigarettes, literally all about cigarettes, very short :( and not proofread ... living life on the edge

Rust hated that you smoked. It was a social habit you formed back in high school from sneaking out during lunch, wanting to be cool with the other kids that dreamed of leaving Alaska right out of graduation. However, once you got into a relationship with Rust, smoking became almost a constant thing. 

It started off with sharing cigarettes. You’d go out with him for dinner, finding yourself outside and leaning against the brick wall with the Louisiana air murkily settling over you. You’d look up at Rust as he lit his cigarette, watching with a doe-eyed look as if he had put the moon in the sky. He took a deep puff, exhaling with a quiet groan and pushing the plume of smoke out into the muggy air. 

“Can I have some?” You softly ask, your smaller hand reaching out for it. With a chuckle and a small shrug, he hands you the cigarette. 

You take a drag like how your friends taught you in high school, but the accidental tolerance break made the tickle of the strong nicotine too much to handle. You coughed out, your eyes scrunching shut with the unfamiliar tickle in the back of your throat. 

You hear Rust chuckle, his hand moving to rub a circle onto your back. “Not too much now, baby.” You cough, still holding the cigarette as your other hand moves to push at his chest to wordlessly tell him not to laugh. 

Then, you started smoking by yourself. Rust had forgotten his cigarettes at home during one of his shifts at the bar, and your curiosity got the best of you. You coughed again but slowly worked past it, thinking of seventeen-year-old you who could smoke two without even coughing. As it finished, a strange sense of accomplishment came over you, and you didn’t mind it too bad. 

He noticed you’d started to smoke more often, and he felt like he had corrupted you in some way. That guilt had always been a small manifestation deep within him, starting just as your older boyfriend in Alaska. Now he had taken you all the way to Louisiana and got you fixed on cigarettes. 

“You should quit.” He grunts one night, watching as you roll over in bed. The covers hid your exposed body as you grabbed your pack from your nightstand. 

“You first.” You answer, lighting the cigarette with his own that dangled between his own lips. He could admit he hated that he got you to start smoking, but nothing sparked fire in his loins like when you’d lean in, kissing the tips of your cigarettes together to light them. 

After your own budding addiction, Rust became notorious for stealing your cigarettes. The pack in your purse would disappear, and you’d see Rust with a new pack despite never taking the time to stop by the store. Even if you tied your ribbons around them or hid them in your nightstand drawer, you’d find them in the pockets of Rust’s jeans. 

What frustrated you the most, however, was the one’s he’d steal straight from your lips. 

You’d be lounging at home, slowly and carefully applying a bold red to your fingernails. You were taking drags with the cigarette that sat between your lips, the TV playing an old sitcom as background noise. Suddenly, long fingers would appear in your eyesight, snatching the cigarette from between your lips.

“Hey!” You whine, turning to look at him as he stands behind the couch. With a smirk, he looks down at you, taking a long drag of the cigarette he thieved from your own mouth. 

“That has my lipstick on it.” You pout, pointing at the ring of red on the cigarette where Rust’s lips pursed. 

“Baby, I’ve had your lipstick on more parts of me than I can tell.” He drawled back with a raise of his brow. He took a drag of the cigarette, chuckling as he caught the pillow you threw at him.