#anyway. stop leaning into being a weirdo who never goes outside. its a bad look for all of us.

[lightyaoigami]

that post about tumblr knowing about the kendrick drake beef being like a remote siberian village is so annoying like i beg of people to find a personality other than being ignorant of major cultural touchstones

[clumsyclifford]

you read my mind (better to leave it unsaid)

(x)

here you go @cringeycal​ i hate you <3

read it here on ao3

-

Calum’s not tired enough for this time difference.

Sixteen hours is too many. One day is not enough time to adjust to a whole new circadian rhythm. Their 7pm concert is 11am to Calum, and by the time it’s over it’s smack-bang in the middle of the day in Calum’s brain, and the fact that it’s dark outside is really, really fucking him up.

“This is really, really fucking me up,” he mutters, pulling the curtains of his and Michael’s hotel room shut with a swish. 

“What is?” Michael’s voice echoes from the bathroom, where he’s brushing his teeth. It’s a strange choice, since Michael also brushed his teeth before the show and they haven’t eaten anything since then, but whatever. 

“The fact that it’s dark outside and I feel like it’s the middle of the afternoon,” Calum says. He pulls his cap off his head and throws it aside, ruffling up the matted hair underneath. It’s nice and air-conditioned in the room, and the sweat sticking Calum’s shirt to his chest from the show is starting to dry. It strikes Calum that he doesn’t need to be wearing his gross sweaty t-shirt anymore, so he pulls that off, too, and throws it in the general direction of the hat.

Michael makes a kind of humming noise. Calum can hear the sounds of a toothbrush, and takes no offence at Michael’s non-answer. He kicks off his jeans and flops back onto the bed, revelling in the cool air on his sticky skin for a minute before sliding off to put on some clothes.

Michael traipses out of the bathroom. He’s still in full show attire, and he’s wearing the camouflage baseball cap from before, a pastel galaxy of lavender hair sticking out underneath it. Calum likes this colour on Michael. A lot of the time Michael makes his bizarre hair colour look good, but this time, the hair colour looks good on its own, which is a refreshing change of pace. 

“You look tired,” Michael says.

Calum frowns. “I’m not. And no I don’t.”

“Fine, you look cosy.”

“That’s not the same thing at all.” The sweatpants and hoodie Calum have donned are cosy, but in his mind it’s still that lazy break between lunch and dinner where the only way to kill time is to play video games. He blinks owlishly at Michael. “You look…colourful.”

Michael snorts a laugh. The only colourful part of him is his hair; his attire is all-black, as usual, but Calum is pretty focused on the hair. Maybe the jet lag is getting to him more than he knows, because all Calum can think is that Michael looks yummy, deliciously kissable, and he wants to tangle his fingers in the lilac mess that is his hair and make it worse. 

“You look…like you’re plotting something evil,” Michael returns, strolling towards Calum. He grins. “Stop staring at me! What are you planning?”

“I may be delirious,” Calum solemnly informs him. “What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Michael says without checking. He steps even closer. “Stop staring, you weirdo.”

“Make me.”

“No offence, but you look like you might snap and go serial killer,” Michael says. “I’m not kissing you, crazy eyes.”

Calum blinks. His gaze refocuses, flitting around Michael’s face too quickly, like trying to calibrate himself. “What if I kissed you?”

Michael shifts his weight, barely a foot away, and smirks. “That’d be okay.”

“I would never snap and serial killer kill you,” Calum says, frowning as Michael’s words finally pierce the thick haze of jet lag clouding his mind. “If I killed you it would be deeply personal and I’d leave a note and everything.”

Michael bursts into laughter. “This is why I say you’re insane!”

“I’m not insane! I’m adorable.”

“Adorably insane.” Michael calms down and catches his breath. “Well? Are you gonna kiss me or—”

“Stop calling me insane and we’ll just see,” Calum says, except then he kisses Michael anyway because he’s tired of not kissing Michael and this argument is not worth the time they’re wasting not kissing.

Michael’s hands immediately find their way to Calum’s waist, pulling him closer so they’re flush against each other. In the stillness of the room, Calum’s own heartbeat is loud in his ears. He wonders if Michael can hear it, or feel it, or if he’d find it strange if he could. They’re just friends who kiss. There’s nothing strange about that.

Anyway, Calum’s a man on a mission, and his palms slide up Michael’s arms and shoulders, framing his face for a second, then continue around the back of his head to the unexpectedly soft strands of hair at the back. 

Victory.

Well, almost victory. His fingertips bump against the brim of the cap on Michael’s head, and Calum grabs the hat and tugs it off him. The gesture makes Michael choke on a laugh and pull away.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s in the way,” Calum insists, taking advantage of the pause to push Michael’s hair off his forehead. A blissful smile breaks across Michael’s face, but he shakes his head anyway like he has to at least pretend to mock every single thing Calum does.

“It’s part of my look,” he says. Calum drops the cap carelessly to the floor and wraps his arms around Michael’s neck.

“Don’t care,” he says airily. “My enjoyment of our kiss is more important than your aesthetic.”

Michael breathes a laugh. “Rude.”

“Rude of you to wear a hat and hide all this sexy hair.”

“Oh, I see. It’s all about the hair.”

“Yeah, duh.” Calum leans their foreheads together. “Pick a bad colour and this is over.”

“Better not pick a bad colour, then.”

Calum smiles. “Don’t think a bad colour exists for you,” he admits. And I don’t think anything could convince me to end this, no matter what I say.

Michael is quiet, watching him, and after a moment of silence he leans in to kiss Calum again, like it’s the only adequate reply he can come up with.

Calum threads his fingers through Michael’s lilac hair and imagines the colour staining his skin, leaving an amethyst residue on his fingertips. He drags his hands down to Michael’s face, imagines leaving a lavender trail, marking the trajectory of his touch. Smudging violet across Michael’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Michael doesn’t taste like lavender or lilac — he tastes like mint toothpaste — but the colours are so vivid behind Calum’s closed eyes that he can swear he can taste them on Michael’s tongue.

When Michael pulls away, Calum licks his lips and opens his eyes. He’s disappointed to find Michael looking like Michael, no extraneous hair dye anywhere, all pale and pink lips but no purple in sight beyond the disaster that is his hair.

“Um,” Calum says, catching up to his own train of thought. “I think I’m tired.”

“Wow,” Michael says. “Hard for me not to take that personally, Cal.”

Calum grins. He’s not sure if he’s tired so much as just ready to call it a night. Otherwise he risks ruining this perfect ending to their day. Any day that ends with kissing Michael can’t be that bad.

“Hey, I could keep going,” he says.

Michael shakes his head, then hesitates, then kisses Calum once more. It goes straight to Calum’s toes, to the tips of his fingers. Somehow, the last kiss is always the best one.

“Well I, for one, am fuckin’ beat,” Michael says when they’re separate again.

Calum resists every single urge to just keep kissing him. If it were up to him they’d never stop. The only reason he ever lets up is the promise that at least they’ll get to do it again the next day. Even now, with the post-show exhaustion catching up to him and Michael basically swaying where he stands — even now, he wants to steal one more, one for safekeeping, one to lock up in a memory box Just In Case.

That would be insane, though.

“We need to sleep,” Michael says. “Or at least I need to sleep.”

“Fine, I’ll sleep,” Calum says. “But dibs little spoon.”

Michael sighs. “Fine.”

Calum kisses his cheek, then leaps backwards and lands on the bed spread-eagle. He doesn’t even have a chance to readjust before Michael’s climbing on top of him like a baby goat or a particularly needy cat. “Oof,” Calum says. “Get off me, stupid.”

“Technically, I think this counts as you being the little spoon,” Michael observes, which is absolutely not true and complete bullshit. 

Calum jerks his shoulder until he dislodges Michael from on top of him. “You’re still in your show clothes, you disgusting pig. Put on some pyjamas at least, Jesus Christ. I’m not cuddling with your sweaty arse.”

“Alright, fuck, chillax,” Michael huffs, clumsily stumbling off the bed and over to his suitcase. While he changes, Calum pushes the covers back and snuggles up underneath. It’s wonderfully warm with the blanket and the hoodie and everything. Calum sighs contentedly. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights,” he adds.

Michael finishes changing into sweats and a t-shirt and kills the lights. On his way back to the bed Calum hears him almost trip. “What the fuck is this?” Another pause. “Oh, it’s my hat.”

“Whoops,” says Calum. Michael finally returns to bed and crawls under the blanket where Calum’s made himself comfortable. “You looked pretty good in it. I just really— I wanted to touch your hair.”

Michael kind of laughs quietly. “And? How was it?”

“Delicious,” Calum hums. He grabs Michael’s hand and presses a kiss to his palm. “Very tasty. Would touch again.”

“You can’t— that doesn’t even—”

“Shh. Shhhhh. Just let it happen.”

Michael sighs. His arm wraps snugly around Calum’s waist, and Calum takes back his thoughts about jet lag. It doesn’t seem like such an issue anymore. “I love you, weirdo. Goodnight.”

“Love you too,” Calum says. He yawns, which leads to Michael yawning; they both giggle, but then silence descends, and Calum falls asleep surprisingly quickly after that, with Michael breathing in his ear.

[hargrove-mayfields]

A Stake of Holly in Her Heart Pt. 5

Pt. 1   Pt. 2    Pt. 3    Pt. 4  

Benny’s is nothing special, Max thinks as they pull up into the mostly empty parking lot, which is nothing but a slab of concrete without any lines painted on it.

From the outside, it looks like a dingy old diner with about the same charm as the middle school cafeteria. On the inside, well, it’s just a dingy old diner with the same charm as a school cafeteria, with its greasy tiled floors and stained up old walls painted a sickening baby blue.

It’s about as full as you’d expect a place like that to be on Christmas Day, as in, other than a handful of elderly customers on the stools at the counter, they are completely alone.

They sit down at a cracking booth by the window, which Max notes was probably last cleaned before she was even born, and an older woman approaches them with a menu.

Steve must know her, chats up a storm about the daily special and school, about life in general and the old owner of the place before ordering for the both of them, and all the while Max just sits back and watches.

Even after the waitress comes back with a pot of coffee, and the two slices of pie Steve promised, she stays leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, watching.

There’s a tension burning under her skin, and she wants nothing to do with the pleasantries. If they were here to talk, then talk they would.

Steve goes to say something between bites of sugar cream pie, an Indiana specialty apparently, but Max cuts him off, her tone harsh. “Why did you bring me here?”

He looks confused, looking up as her with a stupid look on his face. “We’re avoiding the Christmas party?”

“Oh, sure, so you’re totally not trying to lay your claim now that my brother’s not here to stop you, right?” That might’ve been a little mean, but she doesn’t really know what to think right now.

He takes her to a remote location on the very edge of town when she’s supposed to be with a crowd of people because, what did he say, he didn’t want her to deal with them right now? She thinks she has the right to be concerned.

“I-No, I’m not.” Steve sits up straight in his seat. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

She nods over-exaggeratedly. “Is that before or after you make your move?”

There’s a certain pleading tone in his voice, one that obviously means he doesn’t want Max to think poorly of him, as he says, “Max, really I’m not trying to be a weirdo, I just figured you’d want to talk about Billy.”

She would be lying if she said hearing his name doesn’t take the air right out of her lungs. If just for a moment, she’s frozen.

Because nobody actually says Billy’s name anymore, just things like ‘your step brother’ or ‘Neil’s boy’. Sometimes Hargrove, and maybe even William once or twice, but never Billy.

It takes some effort for her to muster up the will to keep arguing after that, but Max has a retort at the ready, once she evens her breaths and moves past the initial shock. “What’s there to talk about? Everyone’s already forgotten about him anyways.”

“I haven’t.” Steve looks her dead in the eye, the most serious she’s ever seen him outside of a life threatening situation. “Don’t think I ever will.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, well, negative sentiments don’t count for much either.”

Everyone knows things were a little rocky between Billy and Steve, so she’s expecting him to rub it in her face that her brother was a bad person who beat people up for fun, or whatever the general opinion of those who didn’t know him was.

But Steve shocks her again by saying, “I never said that.”

And it's so beyond frustrating, talking in circles with Steve, that Max decides to cut her losses. Bites her tongue and sinks further back in the pleather booth, casting her eyes down to show him that she’s done with this.

If she would’ve known he’d be this annoying, she would’ve just made him take her to the Wheeler’s and leave her alone for the rest of her life.

But he doesn’t get the message, though shes not sure if he’s even smart enough to, because he keeps talking. “Me and Billy, we didn’t- we were friends, in the end.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it from me, but we all, you know, like, feel pretty shitty after a, um, a personal loss like this.” The words come out slow as he tries to think of the best thing to say, and it’s her instinct to cut him off, but Max listens.

“E-Especially when it’s someone we care about so much.” There’s a focused sort of look on his face, like he’s trying to get Max to understand that there’s some reason behind what all he’s saying. “Just, what I’m trying to get at is that, I think I understand that in a way probably no one else in your life does.”

That sentence is what finally makes it click into place for Max, the reason why Steve won’t just get on with it and say what he means, the reason she’s even here in the first place.

Because Steve lost Billy too.

She realizes that they must have had a thing. The kind that was kept secret, unknown by anyone but maybe a select few for their safety. A thing not much at all unlike what she and Lucas have.

Of course she knew about Billy, about the ex-boyfriends in Cali and the fake girlfriend he acquired last spring around the same time a paternal rage-induced scar appeared in his eyebrow, but she never would’ve guessed that he he had someone, and especially not for that someone to be Steve Harrington.

The realization hits her like a freight train. A snotty, teary-eyed freight train.

Just knowing that he hadn’t been able to show up at Billy’s funeral, or grieve in public the loss that to him must have been earth-shattering, and that he even had to tell her in vague secrets about his relationship to her brother, her heart hurts incredibly for Steve, and she sheds a few silent tears for him

But then there’s this other feeling, this creeping warmth of something like relief deep inside Max. To know she wasn’t alone in her misery or her heartbreak, she feels seen for the very first time since they’d put Billy in the back of that ambulance.

All in one morning, she’d gone from feeling so iced out by her grief, the singular embodiment of mourning being orbited by the ignorant, the selfish, the cruel, and now there were at least two other people out there in the world who could share that pain with her.

Maybe Christmas wasn’t such a humbug after all.

To say that Max doesn’t know what to say now would be the understatement of the century. She’s totally floored, her mind still slowly trying to recuperate from the weight of what Steve just confessed to her.

Eventually she’s able to get her thoughts in order enough to ask, “How long were you guys, like, cool for?”

“He apologized in December.” Looking down into his mug, he takes a sip of coffee, reminding Max that hers is getting cold. “Two months later we were friends.”

She knows what that really means, that ‘friends’ meant he and Billy had started dating in February, and suddenly a couple of things start to come together.

Like the time when Billy had taken her into the city with promises of a shopping spree, but only bought a couple of little gifts and a bouquet of fancy roses that she never saw again. And the days when she’d wake up for school and he’d be missing because he spent the night somewhere without telling anybody, so Susan would have to drive her. Or when she would find him with things too expensive for his pool wages, like a new pair of ray bans, obvious gifts from the secret admirer.

It’s bittersweet, knowing it Steve was behind all of that.

Despite the tears welling up in her eyes, Max decides to try to crack a joke. “Does this mean you’re my brother in law now?”

Steve returns it by shrugging and saying, “I guess it does, shitbird.”

There is a moment where Max allows herself to laugh with Steve, her quiet giggle echoing in their empty little corner of the diner, but in her heart, she feels a pang of guilt when she looks to the booth in front of her, and thinks about how Billy should be there with them too, with his own slice of pie and a whole life ahead of him.

So Max sniffles, a gentle tear sliding down her cheek when she blinks, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Steve sighs heavily, and sets his cup down. “You don’t have a thing to be sorry for, Max.”

The tears make her voice wobbly, and it hardly comes out as she asks, “Don’t you miss him?”

“‘Course I do. All the time.” Steve says softly.

“Then I’m sorry.” Her bottom lip quivers, and she bites it to try to hold back the sob that comes after.

She can be grateful that Benny’s isn’t a very popular hangout spot these days, so that the only ones around to hear her crying are a couple of geezers whose hearing is probably too poor to notice anyways and Steve.

“Hey, don’t,” Steve starts to say, but his voice cracks, and there’s tears streaking his cheeks to match those on Max’s.

It’s probably good for them, crying it out over pie and coffee, and there’s something about the whole thing that just feels so right to Max, being able to talk with somebody who’s felt exactly what she’s been going through for these five grueling months of isolation.

To her, it feels like this is just where Billy would want her to be.

Eventually they get it out of their systems, crying until there are no tears left, and with a final dab at their eyes with wadded up printed napkins, they’re good to keep going.

Max is the first to strike the conversation back up, having noticed something particularly familiar about Steve’s denim vest. She has a sneaking suspicion it’s not too much unlike the jacket she’s wearing, in that both articles had at one point belonged to her brother.

She nods her head towards him. “Is that Billy’s?”

“What?” Steve looks down at himself like he’s completely forgotten what he’s wearing. “Oh, yeah. He forgot it at my place ages ago.”

She smiles to herself and says, “He did that a lot, forgot things.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” She nods assuredly and explains, “One time, he forgot to pick me up from school, and I didn’t have a bus pass so he had to drive all the way back and get me.”

“Sounds about like Billy.” There’s a warm smile spreading across Steve’s tear-stained face and an equally as warm chuckle. “You know I brought him here last year?”

Max raises an eyebrow and sips her coffee, but doesn’t say anything back. Steve continues in her place. “It was the night of the snowball, and, I’m sure you remember, his face was super messed up.”

“He wanted to talk, I told him we should come here, so we wouldn’t have to sit in his car.” Steve’s sort of staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “We sat at this booth, and that was when he apologized.”

He looks back at Max now to say, “He told me about you too. How last Christmas was different because he didn’t know how to make it up to you.”

“He really loved you, Max.” His voice is thick, like he might start crying again.

Hers is barely above a whisper as she returns the sentiment. “I’m not the only one.”

For the rest of the night until closing, they spent their time exchanging stories of their memories with Billy, of times when he’d made them happy that they felt inclined to share.

They talked about how clumsy he could be, how weird his sense of humor was, his favorite off the wall music, anything and everything that comes to mind that encapsulated the Billy they knew.

One thing they don’t feel the need bring up is abusive parents or accidents at the mall, because that’s not the Billy they want to remember him by. They just talk and talk until they felt as close to one another as they had been to her brother, to his lover.

Just before 10, being that they’re the only stragglers left and Benny’s is about to close, the woman from before who’d taken their orders shoos them out with her politest smile.

From behind the counter, she had watched very moment of their emotional exchange, and some of the cheer in her own heart had been awakened, so she sent them away with some more baked goods before closing up.

Steve takes the long way back to old Cherry Road, trying to stretch this out for as long as he can. They didn’t much talk about it, sure, but his knowledge of how things were in the Hargrove-Mayfield house was enough that he knows he doesn’t want to send Max back there, not yet.

There’s a comfortable silence settled over them in the front seat, no sound but tires on wet pavement and faint Christmas carols drifting quietly through the radio.

Everything they could’ve possibly needed or wanted to say had already been aired out at Benny’s, minus some of the less than subtle stories they didn’t think they should share, so they both just take the time to appreciate the peace.

He’s able to get Max another forty five minutes away from home, letting her settle down in her seat with the heat as high as it can go, taking her drearily down scenic routes and back alley ways, but he can’t delay it forever.

He wishes he could, that didn’t have to take her back there at all, but rather give her the same chance for her freedom from that house that he’d pleaded so desperately with Billy to take before it was too late, but that was a discussion he knew very well she wasn’t ready for.

They pull up outside of the house to see the lights still on, and Max gives him a weak smile before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

She shuts the door behind herself, but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t take any further steps to leave, and Steve doesn’t either.

Rolling down the bimmers window, Steve leans across the seat and says to her, “Listen, if you ever need anything at all just, please let me know. We can do this again anytime.”

She nods and stuffs her hands in her pockets, a look on her face like she’s deep in thought. Steve takes that as his cue that it’s time to leave.

One last smile, a “Merry Christmas, Max,” and he’s pulling away, leaving her to stand alone in the icy breeze.

Making sure he’s well and gone, the sight of his taillights no longer visible from where she's standing, Max takes the envelope that contains Maria’s card out of her pocket, rubbing her thumb over the back of the smooth red paper.

She doesn’t know why she kept it a secret. Of all people, Steve deserves to know, but she figures this is something she’s got to work through on her own.

The front door creaks open behind her, and Susan, dressed in a robe and with her hair up in curlers, calls her inside with scorn in her voice for being out so late.

But not even that can deflate the growing feeling in her chest, of camaraderie, of belonging, of having a friend worth more to her than her mothers bitterness could ever take away.

No, Max goes up the steps to meet her mother in the doorway not with fear or apprehension, but with a certain pride about her, one that might have even been compared to the very swagger that Billy would’ve carried himself with, were he the one to come home after his curfew to find Neil at the door.

Read also on ao3!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 2 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

It's not that Barry's keeping an eye out for the guy or anything, it's just that -

Okay, he's totally keeping an eye out.

Listen, Barry has never had any luck with dating. Zero. None. Zilch.

In high school he was so renowned for being a weirdo nerd that he barely even tried.

College was a giant series of dating catastrophes interspersed with a handful of friends-with-benefits relationships that were fun but not serious.

After college, if anything, his reputation as a weirdo got even more extreme.

(The supernatural events blog being his first Google hit probably doesn’t help, but how else was he supposed to get submissions to help him gather data on unusual events?)

Yes, he's aware that part of his consistent streak of epic dating fails is his overwhelming love for Iris. A large part of it, even; the people he went out with in an attempt not to think about her were usually able to figure out that he wasn't really present at their dates and dumped him in disgust.

At the time, he’d figured that his crappy love life was a worthwhile sacrifice to make for that one glorious day in the future that Iris would abruptly realize that Barry was everything she never knew she wanted.

But Iris is with Eddie now.

As in, seriously, in a way that’s different from before.

Barry squelches the thought that Eddie somehow swept in while Barry was asleep (in a coma, no less!) and took his girl, because it's not true: Barry never got up the nerve to ask Iris to be his girl, and there was no guarantee that she would've said yes anyway, and now she's with Eddie.

She's been with Eddie for months.

She’s happy with Eddie.

Happy in a way Barry’s never seen her be happy, a glow that lights her up from the inside every time she talks about Eddie, every time they’re together. It’s quieter, in some way, than she’s been with previous boyfriends, more settled, more secure – it’s not the cheerfulness of a new infatuation, but the foundation-deep joy that comes from a relationship that is just rock solid, built on a basis of mutual respect and love.

And the worst part is that, well, Eddie –

Barry likes Eddie.

Eddie’s a good guy. He’s friendly and he’s kind and he’s thoughtful and he’s head-over-heels in love with Iris, willing to do everything and anything just to see her happy. In short, he’s exactly the sort of person Barry would want to see dating his best friend, except for the fact that he’d kind of like to be dating her himself.

God, Barry still can't believe he listened to Joe's advice and confessed his feelings to Iris even after he knew all of the above.

Naturally, of course, with Barry’s luck, Barry managed to pick the worst possible moment for a confession. It seems that, in his advice to Barry to be open and honest with Iris about how Barry felt about her, all those words about how Barry would regret not laying out his feelings at least once to see if she felt the same way, Joe somehow forgot to mention that he was actively in the process of trying to break Eddie and Iris up.

Joe sometimes forgets details like that.

In all fairness, so does Iris; the West family doesn’t fight often, but when they do, it’s both vicious and ruthless and thoroughly and incredibly unkind to any poor outsider who happens to get caught in the middle of the meat grinder.

Usually Barry.

He’s way too familiar with the usual way it goes - Iris making a decision Joe doesn't like, Joe pushing back and insisting she change it, Iris getting angry and refusing, Joe actively trying to sabotage the project and/or guilt trip her into not doing it, Iris blowing up at him, and an eventual resolution where either Iris gives in and gives up on the project or she continues onwards and Joe pretends that he never opposed the idea in the first place and sometimes even that it'd actually been his idea all along.

That's the usual way of things, but sometimes it happens in reverse, too, with Joe making a decision that Iris doesn’t approve of and needing to defend it from Iris’ double-barreled attacks, which also consist of guilt trips and silent treatment and sometimes outright sabotage. In her own way, Iris is just as bull-headed and ruthless as her dad.

Barry loves them both dearly, he has since before they took him in after what happened to his mom and his dad, but the way they fight is easily his least favorite West family trait.

They almost always apologize for putting Barry in the middle of these fights after they’re done – Iris with words and hugs and ice cream, Joe with punches to the shoulder and an offer to buy him his favorite pizza accompanied by the unspoken offer to just forget it ever happened – but for all their apologies, they never exactly stop doing it.

Well, every family is dysfunctional in its own way. This way just happens to be the West family way.

So, you know, it’s not like Barry's not used to it.

Okay, maybe not this particular iteration of it, with Joe trying to order Iris to break up with Eddie, which was an incredibly stupid idea in the first place, and when that didn’t work (obviously), he went off and ordered Eddie to break up with Iris, which was (unsurprisingly) even less successful. And, according to Iris, when that didn’t work, Joe apparently then tried to sabotage their relationship by telling Eddie that he wasn't going to let Eddie do his job as long as he was with Iris because he might get hurt on the job and thus cause Iris pain - thereby subtly positioning Iris to take the blame for any failure of Eddie's career to progress.

To nobody’s surprise, except maybe Joe's, that didn't work any better than the rest of it had – Eddie just told him off and refused to accept such a ridiculous restriction from his senior partner, and naturally he also told Iris about it, and boy, oh, boy, was Iris unhappy when she found out about that.

But that’s not the point.

The point is, that Barry is generally used to this stuff happening.

He just wishes that he’d known that the argument was ongoing before he decided it was the right time to confess his feelings to Iris.

Because, of course, the second he did, she was instantly convinced that he'd taken Joe's side in trying to destroy her relationship with Eddie. He should have realized it was a bad time, but he'd been so busy with the stuff he’d been doing as the Streak that he'd missed the signs of an argument (both on her and on Joe) and, well, yeah.

Suffice to say his confession didn't go as well as he might've hoped.

He got shot down, and hard.

Brutally, brutally hard.

And the worst of it is, Iris is probably right, too.

Not in her (totally unnecessary) implications that he was only confessing now that she finally had a serious relationship with another guy because he was being stupidly possessive (it's not true - he's not Joe!), but in the fact that Barry was wrong to try to interfere.

Eddie's a good guy and he’s good for Iris.

The fact that Barry would kinda-sorta-maybe-definitely prefer that he was the one making Iris happy isn't the point.

The point is, Iris' relationship isn't about Barry.

The point is -

Okay, the point is that he got shot down and then Iris stormed out of Jitters and then he went to get another drink to soothe his aching heart with sugar and then, in his moment of need, he got hit on by the most beautiful man Barry has ever seen.

Listen, Barry's not really big on the whole sign-from-above "when fate closes a door it opens a window" sort of philosophy, but wow.

Barry's not saying that his thus far totally platonic interactions with Len are destiny's consolation prize for nearly fucking up his relationship with Iris (thank god for Caitlin's timely intervention, complete with her totally implausible invention of ‘lightning strike confusion’ and willingness to lie to someone while looking at them straight in the eye, because thanks to that Barry still has a best friend despite - direct quote - 'temporarily imitating an asshole Nice Guy', which, ouch), but, well, if it is, then hell yes Barry is okay with being consoled.

It doesn't make up for his epic failure with Iris, and the slow death of all those dreams he’s been nursing since he was a kid, of course, and Barry's not even sure he's really interested in a relationship right now, given the Streak stuff, much less a relationship with Len who he’s really only met for fifteen minute intervals while on coffee breaks, but all caveats aside -

Okay, for serious, it’s-Leonard-but-please-call-me-Len is just so unbelievably hot.

He’s got these amazing grey-blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut a man and close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair that makes a person want to run their hands over it, and that’s just his face, that’s not even accounting for those broad shoulders and leanly muscled arms and that trim little waist and legs that go on for days, even putting aside the crutch he usually leans on that somehow manages to give the guy a sort of innocent charm that abruptly gets shattered the second he flashes that roguish, mischievous smile of his –

…yeah.

Too long, didn’t read: Len is H-O-T hot.

So, yeah, maybe Barry's kinda keeping an eye out for him every time he goes to Jitters. He's only bumped into Len when he's doing coffee runs alone so far, and he's pretty sure Cisco and Caitlin think he's overstating the sheer hotness factor involved here. He'd love to have an opportunity to point Len out to them now that they're actually here with him for once so they can see that he is 100% not understating the situation here.

Of course, Joe is also meeting them today, since they're discussing one of the new metas on the loose, and if he points Len out to Cisco and Caitlin as "hot coffee guy" then Joe will also see, which - no.

For many, many reasons: no.

Anyway, it doesn't matter, since he doesn't see Len anywhere and when he glances over at his new favorite barista, Kendra, she shakes her head a little to confirm that Len isn't in right now and hasn't been in the last hour.

It's things like that that have earned her that spot as his favorite.

Also the fact that she whispered to Barry that Len was trying to get his attention, because otherwise Barry might have missed it (lost as he was in his own angst) and that right there would have been a tragedy.

"- you listening, Barry?"

"Uh, yeah," Barry lies, jerked out of his daydream. "Yeah, totally."

"Uh-huh," Cisco says, but he's grinning. "Sure you were."

Barry rolls his eyes at him. "What were you saying, then?"

"Just that it's nice to have a week free of new metas for once, that's all. Oh, and then I said something about purple spiders from Mars to see if you were paying attention."

Of course he did.

Cisco's so much fun.

"I wonder if Barry drifting off has anything to do with his abilities," Caitlin muses. "I mean, Barry, you run much faster, and that means your reflexes have to be a lot faster to compensate - maybe you're drifting because you're incorporating information faster..?"

"Oooorrrr maybe I'm just daydreaming," Barry suggests quickly, hoping to stave off another round of testing. Ugh, testing. Though to be fair, he did agree to STAR Labs testing him to try to design ways to help people in exchange for their help with the Streak (what an awful name) stuff...

Of course, other than Caitlin, they've mostly ended up focusing on Speedster (no, that's worse) stuff instead, even Dr. Wells...

On second thought, Barry really hopes "the Flash" will end up sticking as his official superhero name. That sounds pretty cool. Like, comics Flash Gordon kind of cool.

He wishes he could be as cool as Flash Gordon.

"Hey, Joe!" Cisco says, waving, and Barry looks up with a smile.

A smile that quickly fades when he sees the expression on Joe's face, a familiar mulish expression that comes complete with the figurative thundering storm-clouds over his head.

(God, it’s a good thing Joe isn’t a meta.)

"Did something happen?" Barry demands immediately. "Is Iris okay?"

"Is it another meta?" Cisco asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no, don't worry about it," Joe says, waving a hand. "Nothing's up. No new metas, and Iris is fine - though she's still writing that Streak-Flash blog; Barry, didn't I tell you to talk about that with her?"

"I did," Barry says. He has. Both as Barry and as the Streak-now-Flash. "It didn't work."

"Try again," Joe suggests. "I don't want her involved in all this meta business, you know that."

"I know, I know..."

Maybe Barry could hint to her about how he prefers the new nickname while he's at it.

Besides, Iris seems a lot more into the Streak (ugh, he really hates that name) than she is into boring old Barry Allen, so maybe he could...

She's still dating Eddie, though. And damnit, Barry likes Eddie.

It would probably be just as wrong to hit on Iris in his superhero disguise as it would be to do it as Barry.

Ugh, how did getting superpowers make his life so much more complicated?

"Why do you look so pissy, then, if nothing's happening?" Cisco asks.

Joe levels him with a look. "Pissy?"

"I mean, uh -" Cisco stutters, then gives up and takes refuge in his iced coffee, which he's slurping through a straw.

"You know what he means, Joe," Barry says. Joe's not really that annoyed at Cisco for the comment, he just likes to tease; it’s just that when Joe’s in a bad mood, it’s hard to tell when he’s teasing. His eyes don’t crinkle up the way they usually do. "If nothing’s going on, what's got you so angry?"

"Even Cisco and I can tell that you're upset about something," Caitlin points out.

"Nah, it's nothing," Joe says, but he settles into his seat and takes a long sip from the coffee Barry set aside for him. "Just the pest problem we’ve got at work."

"We - do?" Barry says, blinking. He hasn't heard anything like that, and usually they post the vermin notices everywhere. He'll have to prepare his lab – being up in the building’s equivalent to the attic makes him even more vulnerable. "Like, are we talking rats or cockroaches or-?"

Joe starts laughing.

Oh, he was being figurative.

Thanks, Joe. Barry would never have guessed that, given that the CCPD has gotten fumigated at least twice since Barry started working there.

At least his mistake put Joe in a better mood.

"No, no," Joe says, wiping his eyes. "Not that type of pest. Well, maybe; I could see my way to calling it a rat problem. Anyway, no, what I meant was, we've got this crazy new IA guy, Captain Cold -"

"Captain Cold?" Cisco asks. "Wow. Epic name."

"What's IA?" Caitlin asks.

"Internal Affairs," Barry supplies. "Also known as Internal Investigations, sometimes. They investigate complaints made against cops."

"Like I said," Joe says, good mood fading. "It’s a rat problem. These guys go after other cops, good cops, and tear them down over one little mistake, leaving us short-handed and thinking more about sticking to every little rule in the book than about doing our jobs when we should all be focused on dealing with the actual bad guys -"

"That's a little unfair," Barry protests, even though he knows from experience that he's never going to win this particular argument. "There are bad cops out there, Joe, you know that. Remember Dibny?"

"Dibny?" Cisco asks.

Barry can feel himself getting angry all over again, which is stupid, because it's been at least a year or two since the whole thing happened, and yet...

"Ralph Dibny was a cop Barry took a dislike to just when he was first starting out," Joe is explaining. "He wasn't really all that good at his job, so Barry never much liked him, and then Barry caught him taking some shortcuts and reacted badly -"

"Joe!" Barry exclaims. "That's not what happened!"

"What did happen, then?" Caitlin asks.

"Dibny planted evidence," Barry says. The memory of it still makes his hackles go up; he'd been so angry at the time. He still is, actually, but it'd been a brand new type of awful back then. When he'd first joined the force, he'd had such an idealized view of the justice system and of the work cops did in particular: rooting out injustice, stopping crime, finding the truth and freeing the innocently incarcerated, getting bad people off the streets and into rehabilitation programs, the works.

And then along came Dibny, with his smug smirk and his boasting and lust for glory -

"He was investigating a murder, a woman that got stabbed," Barry continues. "He thought the husband did it, everyone thought the husband did it, he was a real scumbag, but unfortunately there was no proof that the guy was involved. At least, there was no proof until Dibny found a knife with the husband's fingerprints on it. The second that happened, of course, he was treated like a hero for finally nailing the guy."

"Let me guess," Cisco said. "Not the real knife?"

"I tested it and it didn't match up," Barry confirms. "Different blade, different handle - there was no way it could've been the murder weapon, and the way Dibny went about the whole thing made it clear that it wasn't an innocent accident. He'd planted it deliberately to try to frame the guy –"

“Given Barry’s history with the whole mom and pop stabbing thing, Barry blew up,” Joe says, shaking his head a little. He hadn’t approved at the time; he’d thought Barry was sticking his nose in where it wasn’t needed, that Barry should have left it to IA to handle, if it was handled at all, but Barry had persisted. “He even testified against Dibny.”

“He deserved it,” Barry says firmly.

“But it did mean that a murderer walked free.”

“We never had solid evidence that Reagan killed his wife,” Barry snaps. “That’s the whole point. Dibny could have been framing an innocent man based on nothing but his own assumption that the guy was guilty. Whether Regan's a murderer is still unknown, but with Dibny we knew beyond any doubt that he broke the law.”

That’d been the moment when Barry realized that freeing his dad wasn’t just a matter of finding the Man in Yellow, but also of proving it. The CCPD had assumed that Barry’s dad had killed his mom because it was the easiest assumption, because they'd never believed Barry's stories of the Man in Yellow, but just because it was easy didn’t mean it was right.

And, yeah, sure, a few of the cops (most of the cops) had given Barry the cold shoulder for a while until Joe had explained the thing with Barry’s dad, replacing at least some of the glares with looks of sympathy (pity, really), and, yeah, maybe some of the friction he still has with a whole bunch of them might be from that rather than from the whole punctuality thing (and, uh, the bad social skills thing, too) that he usually blames it on, but whatever.

Barry’s still sure he did the right thing.

“To be fair, we’re doing a bit of law-breaking ourselves,” Cisco points out. “Being a superhero vigilante isn’t exactly legal, you know.”

"It's not the same," Barry says, but he frowns.

It is different. Isn't it?

“Barry's right. At least we know for sure that the metas we fight against are doing bad things,” Caitlin says. “And it’s not like we can just leave this up to the police: with his powers, Barry’s the only one who can stop them.”

Very true. That helps put Barry's mind at ease.

“The most important thing is to get these guys off the streets so they’re not hurting anyone else,” Joe agrees. “That's why you guys set up the Accelerator prison, right? To keep them from hurting anyone else? That’s a good thing in my book."

"Yeah," Barry says. "And to rehabilitate them."

Well, they maybe haven’t done all that much of that yet, but they're going to – Dr. Wells said –

"Anyway," Joe says, interrupting Barry's train of thought. "This whole thing’s not really a big deal, but it does mean we all need to walk a little more carefully until this Captain Cold guy –”

“God I love that name,” Cisco mutters.

“– gets tired of his most recent vendetta and moves onto harassing a different precinct.”

“Do you know who he’s after now?” Caitlin asks.

“No clue,” Joe says. “That’s why everyone’s got to be careful; this guy has a rep for being going after anyone who gets on his bad side. Doesn't matter how long you've been with the department or how much good you've done, once you're on his shit list, you're going down. He took down fifty guys in one massive sting his very first month in the job -"

“In one month?” Cisco exclaims, clearly impressed. “How?”

“Apparently, before he became Head of IA, he’d been working undercover or something,” Joe says with a shrug. “And while he was spying, he took the time to record some shady exchanges while he was doing it - and then turned them all in.”

“What, all at once?”

“Yeah. From what I hear, this guy got his promotion while still in his hospital bed, then checked out AMA the next day to wheel himself into the DA’s office and drop a pile of fully written case folders on their desks, demanding they investigate all of them at the same time –”

“Wait,” Caitlin says, “if he went straight from the hospital to the DA’s office, where’d he get the folders?”

“That’s not the point. The point is, losing fifty guys at once like that - especially without any consideration as to if there were valid reasons for them to be making those deals - has been killer on everyone’s workload. We’re all going crazy, the streets are under-policed, and does he care? No. He’s nowhere near done yet.”

"Why haven't I heard about this guy?" Barry asks.

Joe gives him a look.

"...what?"

"That would involve actually being in the office sometime, Bar."

"...oh, right. I've been busy."

"With Streak stuff," Joe agrees.

"With Flash stuff, please, Joe," Barry says, pained.

"Seriously," Cisco agrees. "The Flash is a much better name. Have you hinted about calling yourself the Flash to Iris? Her blog is, like, metahuman gossip central; it could probably popularize it -"

Barry starts nodding before he realizes that Joe is glaring.

"- but obviously that's not going to be an issue because she's totally going to stop writing it any day now because it's way too dangerous?" Cisco adds very quickly.

"Why'd you end that with a question," Joe growls.

"Uh, I mean - I - uh -"

Barry starts laughing, and Joe's stern face dissolves into a wry grin.

"Don't let him scare you," Barry advises a very relieved looking Cisco. If Joe wasn't here, he'd add that Iris doesn't listen to anyone anyway, but Joe hasn't entirely accepted that yet, and there's no point in starting a real argument.

Barry prefers to avoid confrontation whenever possible.

Cisco's phone buzzes.

"Oh, hey, guys, Wells has some news for us," he says, reading the text. "Let's head back to STAR Labs."

They all pack up their stuff and start heading out the door while Barry goes and throws out all the trash (he has no idea how he keeps ending up with all the chores, even when he does them at boring old regular speed). He’s just tossed it and turned to start following them when he sees Len come in through the other door, leaning heavily on his crutch as usual.

Barry hesitates, torn between going over to say hello and finding out what news Wells has for them. If it's something relating to another one of the many dangerous metas they suspect are out there, then he has a moral obligation to put that ahead of personal things. But if it’s just more testing, well...

Len sees him and smiles. Not a big smile; Len doesn't do those, just a little lift of his lips and a crinkling of his eyes that makes him look happy to see Barry, and yowza, Barry keeps forgetting how freaking hot Len is. Rather, he remembers, oh does he remember, it’s just that he keeps convincing himself that no one who smiles at him like that could possibly be that hot, and then he sees Len and nope, the guy really is every bit as hot as he'd thought.

Okay, maybe just a quick chat.

He speed-walks (he doesn't dare go faster than that until he's figured out how not to go lightning every time he tries to run) over to Len.

"Uh, hi," he says.

Wow. Uncool, Barry.

"Barry," Len says, still smiling that tiny little smile. "You coming or going?"

"Going, unfortunately," Barry says, and means it. "My friends - we've got a thing -"

"I've got a thing myself, so I wouldn’t be able to stick around anyway," Len says. "But while I have you, maybe you can help me resolve a problem."

"Sure, anything," Barry says.

"I had plans for a business dinner this Friday evening, but the guy in question ended up having to cancel on short notice," Len says, and Barry's heart starts going a mile a minute. "My secretary tells me that the reservations are non-refundable, and rather expensive."

Barry nods mutely. Is Len asking him out?! He's not prepared for this. It's too soon! He hasn't even figured out his position vis-à-vis the Flash and Iris and everything yet?

"Unfortunately, all of my friends are also busy that day," Len continues. "I don't suppose you'd be free to go with me...? Just to get to know each other a bit better, of course; it’s pretty hard to get acquainted via five minute chats over coffee."

"Of course," Barry echoes. So, basically, as friends? He can do friends. He can totally do friends. And from friends...well, he can worry about the rest later. He beams. "Yes, of course. I'd be happy to."

"Excellent," Len drawls, looking pleased. "Meet here and head over around seven? It ain't far, even for me."

"Absolutely!" Barry says, then notices Caitlin lingering by the door, looking for him. "Uh, but for now -"

He lifts a hand in an apologetic wave, and Len dips his head a little, waving back - half "good to see you", half "go on then, I'll catch you another time" - before executing a perfect turn on his crutch to catch the barista just as someone tries to steal his place in line while he's distracted.

Len is so damn cool.

Barry sighs and heads out the door.

"Is that Cool Coffee Guy?" Caitlin, the only one who lingered behind long enough to see their interaction, asks.

"Yeah," Barry says. "That's him."

"Nice."

Barry grins at her. It's good to have friends. "I told you. And it’s Hot Coffee Guy."

Grinning back, she nudges his shoulder a little. "Nuh-uh. That guy might be pretty, but he’s way too cool to be hot. You should go for it."

"Really?" he asks. "Even with the whole, you know, thing?"

"I don't know if you mean your abilities or your crush on Iris, but either way, yes," Caitlin says firmly. She smiles wistfully. "It's important not to let your work become everything to you, no matter how important it is. Ronnie taught me that."

"Don't forget that that lesson applies to you, too," Barry tells her. He's still honored that she chose to share her memories of her late fiancé with him. "C'mon, after we do whatever it is that Wells wants us for today, we'll go out for ice cream, you and me and Cisco." He can't imagine Wells going, no matter how nice the man is. He's a very private person. "How's that sound?"

"Could be nice," Caitlin allows, then smiles mischievously. "But first you have to ask out Cool Coffee Guy. Deal?"

"Deal," Barry says with a smirk. "And now you have no choice but to go get ice cream with us, because Cool Coffee Guy just asked me to go to dinner with him on Friday."

"He did? That's great!"

"Well, as friends," Barry amends.

"Still great," Catilin says, linking arms with him. "Though I'm not sure that entirely counts -"

"Awww, c’mon, Caitlin -"

"But I guess I'll count it anyway," she finishes, smiling. "Now let's catch up with the others."

Barry grins. "In a flash."

[pomegranctes]

u could stop at 5 or 6 stores... or jus 1

vesper ophelia reeve !

this is vesper my mc’freakin BABY.......

hayley law fc whom is not a tragic ass shit full of teenage angst despite that bein my speciality bcos i lov torturing my chars xDD

was raised by two hippie, nirvana searching, lush loving moms who cherished and loved vesper after finding her abandoned in a stroller at stanley park </3

despite being adopted and left on a huge fricken island she really doesn’t feel any resentment towards her birth parents ? she jus p much feels indifferent like isn’t in any rush to meet them and is jus content with where she is rn so don’t count on any philo soul searching

so like i said her moms were hella hippie and vegan and socialist and true believers in becoming one with the world, saving it, etc like they were jus super passionate bout making everything a better place and after adopting vesper that need only intensified as they wanted the best for their lil girl<3

like her parents, she grew up super healthy and earth loving and all-in-all an advocate for peace on earth and all this

it was NAWT easy to make friends tho bcos she was always the weird girl who only ever had thrift shop clothes ( before it became a #trend and was jus a sign of how broke u were xDD ) and never wore makeup but being the toughie she is, she stuck through it without complaint

she still shops at the thrift store tho bcos capitalism

attempted to have a rebellious teen stage after watching thirteen and took up smoking, ate some meat, pierced her nose, and did all this stupid stuff to fit in with everybody else but knew it wasn’t her crowd so she gave that up pretty quick and chalked it up to a learning experience

after graduating, with a heavy heart she said good bye to her moms and took off her london to study environmental law and she says it’s to save the bees and all this and convinces herself that’s why but she’s got an ulterior motive which p much just to have a mc’blast in london but her whole “i am above insouciance, all for the greater good, etc” mindset makes her feel almost guilty about it

since being in london tho she’s seen some things, learned some things, is p much now realizing that wanting to have fun for herself without the whole vegan guilt catching up to her isn’t that bad??? she knows that u gotta put urself first huns Xx

has a bubbly and approachable exterior but lowkey inside she still gets self conches about being the weird girl and will have these bouts where she doubts every fricken friendship she’s ever had

loves trying new things all the time and even if that restaurant you ate at last week gave you the shits but the food was good she’ll take the risk of food poisoning just to have that experience

is hella quirky but not in a bella thorne licking gregg skulkin way more in a hippie who listens to the weirdest music and loves orange pulp

works as a radio host for imperial college where she talks philosophy, feminism, and plays indie rock trash

leeder matheus sousa !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zU13Ql0HRJc

i was not memeing around when i said that i was gonna make a rudy cult leader muse after watching that vid

his name is leeder but prefers people calling him leeds bcos even he can see the disgustign pun

grew up in vegas to some major gambling parents who ran off to sin city for a good time but got caught up in the fancy lights and found that they jus couldn’t leave ? eventually got knocked up and had leeder and would you know it, he was named after a slot machine

his life fluctuated from dinners at upscale restaurants to panhandling outside a casino and p much grew up having to take care of himself all the time what with his parents gone all the fricken time wasting their money

he tried confronting them about it once but things got out of hand too quickly and he ran away from home for a week but his parents hardly noticed his absence the times that they were home and just figured he was in his room or at a friend’s

at 15 he knew he had no savings or anything, he figured as much with his parents, so ever since his first job he started saving up whatever money he could in some last ditch self preservation

at 17 now he runs away just to see what would happen and he isn’t that shocked when there’s no milk carton portraits and no breaking news stories about a missing kid in vegas but some small part of him still held out that hope and was resentful for it

that stunt hella shaped him and hardened him and ever since then, he grew up bitter and spiteful and is p much hella self preserved and will almost always do whatever is best for himself even if other peepz are collateral

so anyway at 22 he basically formed his own cult :P he would scout and pick up these lost runaways and tell them all about “finding themselves” and all this load of bs and got them to believe they were leaving behind their old messy lives in favour of a sort of paradise which was p much just them being high off their minds a good amount of the time and strumming some shit music around a bonfire while they slept in tents outside his own decked out bungalo

so yea he got this cult going and on the low was dealing w some hella drugs and trafficking p much anything and everything and then disater strikes, shit hits the fan, there’s people after him, the whole lot which drove him to leave the country and come to london, hence why he’s here now :P

he still got some connections so he used those and got back into the whole drug thing and is now jus trynna find some new recruits to join his cult ( plot idea mayhaps :P )

hudson kirk schrader !

nickname is schrader but feel free 2 call him hudson, he jus goes w the flow :P

honestly been watching too much fricken workaholics

he’s deadass 100% blake and so catch me copying and pasting his bio

a hella burnout who faked some bullshit illness he searched up on wikipedia and got a medical marijuana lisence for it. how he pulled it off exactly is still unknown, even to himself ( believe it or not, he was high when he did it )

grew up in rancho cucamonga his whole life and the only time he saw outside of it was the one roadtrip he took to los angeles but he surprisingly hated it and he says its bcos the city is too big but he knows it’s bcos some guy he met at the beach called his sandals ugly and people laughed

his parents divorced when he was like 9 so he’s got two younger half siblings but he only sees them like once a month. he doesn’t mind though, they’re all p close and there’s not some family vendetta or anything lolz his parents still get along and all that

despite being stuck there though, he made the most of his small city life and grew up with a positive outlook on everything like u really cannot catch him thinking the glass is half empty

lives for the weekends. only works as a telemarketer/salesperson and yea it’s a shit job with no time off and a poor salary but does he care ? as long as it’s enough to keep living, he’s content

diet p much consists of cheap beer and delivery pizza. ihop breakfasts when he’s feeling rich or p much jus craving pancakes at 3am

took a stripper class one time for the sicc experience but he tells everyone it was to look at half naked peepz

can and will shove an entire party platter of sliced salamis that fell on the floor into his mouth if it means he’ll make some money off of it, even if it’s only $5 bcos hey, that can at least cover his tab at the bowling alley

he's the guy at the party who makes a massive cheese and cracker sandwich called the eliminator

enjoys pitting people against each other but not in a shit ass annoying naslund way or a devil reincarnate lourdes way more in a “hey what’ll happen if i do this” knowing dam well what will happen but going for it anyways

strange personality makes him interesting and fun 2 hang with but also a lil bit misunderstood bcos he jus trynna b himself </3

is a good friend who’s willing to take risks and try new things and he’ll trick u into joining him for a night you’ll never forget mostly bcos of the tattoo and the scar and the croatian wife u now have

a weirdo w self confidence who can pick up on that rude thing u said about his mom but spends too long thinking of a slick comeback and by the time he figures it out the conversation has already taken four different turns

understands human psyche and knows that u lose a woman when u forget 2 cherish her but honestly he’s always there if u need a pal to lean on and he will do anything in his power 2 make sure ur okay

spends his off time people watching on top of his house. deadass has got lawn chairs, a cooler, and everything set up on there and even after breaking his collorbone when he fell off, he refuses to listen to the safety concerns of his neighbours and p much the general public

truly has no story for how he got to london, jus decided to pick up and leave one day and is p much living the same life he lived in america but different setting :P

[frostednipz4bts]

Give Me Suga 1-11

I really did not want to walk into that meeting after what just took place with Tae. I didn’t want to face Jungkook. I guess because I have such strong feelings for Jungkook. He should know by now that this is what I have to do. Please everyone. I walked in behind Tae trying to hide behind him. I sat in the chair towards the back behind everyone. I forgot I had my panties balled up in my hand. What the hell....  I thought. At this point I really didn’t care. I had a hell of a morning.. hell of an afternoon... and now with Tae. No telling what else was coming my way. The guys were the only ones in the room so far... except missing Jin. I stood up and put my panties back on. Jimin turned around because he heard me moving around... “YAH - Y/n, what are you doing?!” I could hear him whisper “damnnnn”  “Jimin, sorry.. I had to put my panties back on. Is that a problem?” “Um - no .. no problem.” Jimin was blushing licking his lips. These guys are some horn dogs thats for sure.

I looked over at Tae and he was smirking at me. I looked over at Jungkook and he was staring at me with a blank stare. As if he really wanted to cuss someone out. I knew it probably would make him mad, but I had to do what Tae wanted to do. I remembered Soowa saying that if I denied any of the guys requests they had the right to report me ... 3 strikes and I’m out.

“I’m sorry...” I mouthed to Jungkook. All he could do was turn around as if he ignored me. It kind of made me upset to see him mad at me. Heck, I didn’t even know if he was or not. 

Jin finally arrived with Soowa right behind him.  Soowa started,” Ok listen up.. we have this fundraiser starting tomorrow evening. They want us to be there at 11 am for sound checks and practices. It doesn’t start til around 7 pm though. We will leave from here at 10 am. RM, is your ankle doing okay from the other day? We need to have Dr. Wu check it out again to make sure you can still put pressure on it. Y/n, can also massage it for you since she went to school for massage therapy. Am I right Y/n?” I was still staring at the back of Jungkooks head not even listening to half the stuff he was saying. I snapped out of it when Jungkook turned around to look at me. “I’m sorry... yes I will do that,” I spoke up. I don’t even know what I was agreeing to but I did not feel like getting yelled at. I looked over at Jungkook again and he looked like a sad puppy. I do know I don’t want to risk this job. Especially over a guy.  Soowa continued,” Ok - great! Now Y/n I need you to take some documents to the sister branch of BigHit. Its about 15 mins away from here. You can take my bus card for faster traveling.” He hands me his card.  “감사합니다,” I said. He looked at me wide eyed and gave me a thumbs up.  I start to head out the lobby when I feel someone grab my shoulder.. I was thinking...Great what does he want now.. thinking it was Tae or Jungkook. To my surprise it was Yoongi.  “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” he said. “I still have these papers I have to take for Soowa... Since I passed out earlier I never got to drop these off.” “Lets take my bike instead of the bus... There are a lot of weirdos on the bus and you going alone isn’t an answer” Yoongi seemed emotionless, but I feel like deep down he cares. I followed him to his bike. I thought he meant like a bicycle, but he meant a motorcycle. I stood there wondering how was I suppose to sit on this... “Um - How am I suppose to sit on this? Side ways or hike my skirt up like this?” I threw my leg over and pulled my skirt up to see his reaction. He almost tripped over the parking spot block which made me laugh.  “Y/n, don’t do that please. Just sit like that but.. don’t pull it up any more.” He gets on and tells me to hold on tight. I slowly put my arms under his jacket to clasp my hands together. I felt like someone was watching us. I looked around with this big helmet on and as we were riding off I saw Jungkook. Is he getting jealous? We arrived at BigHit branch... Yoongi gets off the bike and helps me off. I straighten my skirt up and take the papers inside. I guess hes going to wait outside on the bike. I turned to catch him watching me walk up the stairs. I thought it was funny... tough guy Yoongi checking me out.  I walk in and was greeted by several people at the front desk. Who caught my eye was this handsome guy. I walked towards him instead of the women motioning me over to them. “You speak English?,” I asked. “As a matter of fact I do, Hi. I’m JB. What can I do for you?” “I needed to drop these papers off for Soowa.” “Ahhh, yes okay. We were expecting them. I hate that the computers at both branches are messed up. Let me get these copied and you can go on your way... just follow me.” I looked back at Yoongi and he was watching me carefully. I followed JB to the back office. I notice Yoongi stand up off his bike probably curious as to where we were going. What is he doing? “So how long have you worked for BigHit,” JB asked. “I just started like last week. I’m a personal assistant for BTS as of right now. If in a year they like my progress then I can stay. Which I wouldn’t mind staying....” I was rambling on to JB about everything until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and it was Yoongi still had his helmet on.  “Yoongi, what are you doing?,” I said. “Yoongi, as in Suga?,” JB asked. “Yeah, he brought me here... he was suppose to wait outside,” I said glaring at him through his helmet. I know he saw me give him the look. “Y/n, I was just making sure you weren’t being bothered... I will be outside.” JB thanked me and gave me his number in case Soowa had more papers... that all I had to do was take a picture of the paper and text it to him. Seemed easier than having to travel there. I walked out to Yoongi waiting on his bike. He had his arms crossed and helmet still on. What is going on in his mind of his. He turned to see it was me standing there and he opened up his visor on his helmet.  “Get on I’m taking you somewhere for a few...” he said. I got on and we rode for a good 15 mins to this open area showing the tops of Korea. 

“WOW Its beautiful!” I said jumping off his bike to take a better look. Yoongi actually smiled as he saw me excitedly taking pictures.  “Yeah, its not as beautiful as my view though.” Yoongi was leaning against the railing staring at me.

 I felt my face get red. I didn’t think Yoongi even liked me at all. I took a few more pictures and walked towards him. “What did you mean by that?” I asked him while adjusting my skirt. “Y/n, we all know you have feelings for Jungkook. We also know you have a job to tend to. We all want a part of what you are giving. I’m sure you know we talk about everything that goes on with all the guys. You’re the top subject to talk about. You have this way with every guy that’s around you. Its like they fall for you the second they lay eyes on you. I’m usually the tough guy in the group but I have to admit I also find you attractive. Maybe its stress and you’re here to help us with that.... so what I’m trying to ask is...” As he was rambling on I walked up to him and got face to face with him.  “Yoongi, you want me to help you relieve stress don’t you?” He stood there speechless as I was slowly moving my hands from his sides up to his chest to his neck. He slowly nodded his head yes as I started to unbuckle his belt. I looked up and he had his eyes closed. Hes so fucking cute. I start to unbutton his pants and he stops me. “Wait, we are in public Y/n. What if someone sees us?” “Its okay. Nobody will come up here. If they do we will hear them anyways.” He nodded and closed his eyes again. I pull his pants down and start to massage his dick over his underwear. He started squirming against the railing. I could tell he was enjoying it so I moved his underwear down and licked the top of his dick. I heard him exhale and inhale out of pleasure. “Y/n, stop teasing me.....” I started licking from the balls to the tip and taking it all in. He took his one hand that wasn’t supporting him against the railing and pushing my head down harder. I was gagging at the fact so much slobber was dripping down. He still had his eyes closed enjoying his treat. He finally looked down at me and he about lost it. “Fuck, Y/n. I’m about to cum... open your mouth.” I did just that and he got it all in my mouth. Some on my face and clothes. It was a mess. “Yoooongi, you got it all over me LOL!” I was laughing so hard. “Y/n, omg my bad. You may need to clean up before coming back to work. I will drop you off at your apartment.” We hop on his bike and rush to my place. I hurry inside and change. Goodness what will happen next ?!?!