#anyways this is what i could come full on drunk a teehee

[on-a-lucky-tide]

teehee its my birthday buuuuuut i am here clawing for nikprice on the ground like a chicken. anyway i wonder how would a nikprice drunk confession go. i just love that trope to death lol

It's your birthday? Happy birthday, mate! A small gift...

Price gets a medal and then gets drunk at the after party. Nik is surprised to hear what he has to say. No one else - and I mean, no one else - is.

cw: alcohol, drunken kiss.

"I hate these bloody things," Price mumbled into his scotch, staring bleary-eyed at his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. His speech had been short, concise, and he had spent the majority of it talking about the bravery and dedication of his Task Force. The rest of 'em had prattled on for ages about themselves, preening their egos with the new metal on their chests.

"It is a party in your honour, captain. You did a brave thing. And," Nik leaned back to pluck a canapé from the tray of a passing waitress, "there is free food." He pulled the honey-soaked sausage off the cocktail stick and chucked it in the air, catching it in his open mouth, much to the consternation of a gaggle of RAF officers nearby.

None of them were brave enough to let Nikolai see or hear what they thought of him, because they had all heard enough whispers of his service record to steer well clear. Even top brass were scared enough of him to overlook his multiple active Interpol arrest warrants so that he could attend.

Price smiled as Nik chewed, clearly pleased with his feat of dexterity, and then proceeded to slosh his scotch all over himself as he leaned his elbow against the bar... but missed said bar by about an inch and a half. "Bollocks," he growled, as expensive alcohol soaked into the equally expensive wool of his number one uniform.

Nik chuckled, snatching up a handful of serviettes from the bar. "I am starting to think you are a lightweight," he said, swivelling around in his bar stool so that his knees bracketed Price's, a folded serviette pressed to Price's chest to soak out some of the scotch.

"'M not," Price... slurred, fuck, maybe he was. "You wearin' cologne?"

"Da, number one majesté impériale."

"Sounds posh," Price said, lifting his scotch for another swig.

"Hm, it is $215,000 a bottle."

Price choked on his drink, spluttering it back into the glass. "You spent nearly four times my salary on some cologne?" He wheezed.

"It is a special occasion."

"Bloody fucking christ, Nik. It's a medal ceremony, not a bloody coronation."

"It is more important to me," Nik said, "because it is you."

Price felt his cheeks and ears warm. It didn't help that Nik's big hands were still on his chest, careful to pluck away the stray fibres of serviette from where it clung to the damp wool. This close, Price couldn't help but stare.

Fuck, he was so... handsome.

Nik had made an effort to look, and smell, his best. In his expensive tailored three-piece, no tie, because... well, who would be brave enough to tell Nikolai to put on a fuckin' tie? The open top button gave Price a really good view of his chest hair peeking through at the top. Oh, fuckin'... Hot, it was hot in here. Damn uniform.

"Careful, captain, you will fall," Nik said softly, palm pressed to the centre of Price's chest. Price had been leaning forward. Leering. Oh, this was embarrassing. He cleared his throat, shuffled back, and beckoned the barman over for a refill.

Two more glasses, one of vodka and another of scotch, and Price chanced a glance over at Nik again. "Thanks... for, uh, coming to this. The boys like the schmoozin', Simon doesn't stay longer than the talks, don't blame him, but, I, uh..."

"You find it hard to navigate the politics because you are honest and they," Nik waved his hand vaguely around the room, "are not."

Price smiled faintly. "Yeah, guess so. Full of compliments today, Nik. Man might get the wrong idea."

"Or... the right idea."

Price froze with the glass halfway up to his mouth. Even through the drunken dog, he managed to parse the meaning behind that. In payment, however, his brain had decided to bury his entire knowledge of the English language, so all he could do was make a small noise in the back of his throat, which he smothered with a large mouthful of scotch.

Nik hadn't turned in his stool, his knees still spread wide either side of Price's, and Price wanted to shuffle a little closer. He wanted those hands back on his chest, and he wanted... Christ, he just wanted. He had wanted for a long fuckin' time.

"Here," Nik said, sliding a plate of sausages over to Price. "It will absorb some of the scotch."

"Urf, naw, can't stomach that shit..."

"Then we shall go elsewhere."

"Wot?"

"Come, captain. The sergeants left for the clubs ten minutes ago."

"They did? Bastards..."

"Da. I will get your coat."

The fresh evening air hit Price like a sledge hammer to the face, and he was pretty sure he would have fallen in the gutter without Nikolai to lean on. He was intimately aware of the strong arm around his waist, one of his hands clinging onto Nik's expensive wool coat as they staggered into the local Maccy D's for a Big Mac and chicken nugget share box.

Nik paid for it, flashing his most charming smile at the young girl behind the counter as he collected the highly decorated SAS captain from where he was clinging onto a nearby condiments bench for support, takeaway bag in hand.

They ended up sat on a bench by the Thames, dressed to the nines, Nik smelling of thousand dollar cologne as he wolfed down over-salted MacDonald's chips at Price's side, and Price couldn't stop staring at him.

Nik could be anywhere else. Anywhere. He could be partying with the wealthiest men and women in the world, walking among the elite, and yet here he was sitting in London eating shitty fast food with a drunk soldier. He chose Price every time. Every time. Price felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. "Nikolai..."

"Da, captain."

"I think I love you."

Nik grinned, huffing a soft chuckle. "Mmhm."

"No, no," Price swiped his beret off, which had somehow managed to cling onto his head while they had staggered through the mean streets of Westminster. "I... I'm serious. I... I love you. Have for, uh," he hiccuped, fucking hiccuped, tried to recover by puffing into his clenched fist, "...have for a while," he squeaked. Oh, fuck, was that indigestion?

Nik put his box of chicken nuggets aside and turned, arm draped over the back of the bench. He slid a gloved hand under Price's chin and turned his head up. Seconds later, they were kissing. Fucking... Nik's fucking lips were on Price's and, and...

Price hiccuped again.

Nik chuckled into his mouth, before drawing away to smooth his thumb through Price's beard. "This is not how I imagined it, but it is... somehow, right."

Price's face was bright red, he could feel it burning, and his eyes were wide. "You, uh... You..."

"For many, many years, solnyshko."

"We've... that's a... a long time." Price said softly.

"I am a patient man. And you are worth waiting for."

After that, Price didn't really recall much. The MacDonald's hit the deck and Price climbed Nikolai like a bloody tree. They ended up in his hotel room, with Nik's expensive suit and Price's (honestly, perhaps slightly less) expensive uniform on the floor. It might have gone further than boyish fumbling if Price hadn't fallen asleep face down in the pillows after saying he didn't want to take advantage of Nik in his current state. Nik had chuckled at that and laid down next to him, stroking his hair.

Price woke up in the morning with a sore head and a dry mouth, and found Nik sitting by the open window in a hotel dressing gown. "Nik, did I..."

"Nyet, captain. You were an absolute gentleman." Nik put the newspaper aside and took his glasses off, delivering the waiting pint of water and aspirin to Prices hands. "Do you... remember what you said?"

Price's cheeks reddened. "Yeah, look, I'll understand if--"

He didn't get to finish. Nik kissed him squarely on his stupid mouth, stroking a big palm through his hair. When he drew back, he hummed softly. "Drink that and then we will go to breakfast," he said, walking away. Price couldn't help but stare as the dressing gown slid down his broad back, revealing a full arse framed in black boxers. "And brush your teeth."

Price downed the water and staggered from beneath the duvet. He was ready to head down within ten minutes, desperate for a strong coffee and a greasy sarnie. Unfortunately, the rest of his task force, Los Vaqueros, Chimera, Laswell and a handful of her agents happened to be in the dining room already.

"Eyy, there he is!" Gaz called, toasting his mug of coffee.

Soap looked round, glanced at Nik and then back at Price. "Fuckin' finally."

Laswell rested her chin on her palm. "Bagged your man then, Nik. Well done."

Price blinked, squinting in the bright morning light. "So you all--"

Simon walked past, his plate heaped with bacon and eggs, and shoved a coffee into his captain's hand before patting his shoulder. "Yeah. Everyone did 'cept you."

Price looked at Nik for help, only to receive a shrug and a quirked eyebrow before Nik wandered off to the buffet.

"Bloody bastards," Price muttered, glancing at each triumphant face, thumbs up and smirk, before slumping into a nearby chair. Bloody. Bastards

[meowzfordayz]

staying in

Author’s Note: feeling cheesy and silly and lazy. ☺️😝🥱

staying in

Hashira x Reader, Kamaboko x Reader

Word Count: ~900

CW: mild sexual content

Song Inspo: Low Key by Russell Dickerson

~faqs~

An evening in consists of…

… almost getting scammed by an astrology website with Zenitsu, before finally agreeing that the free version is fine, and who believes in astrology anyway? Clearly, you’re made for each other (despite there being some ~areas of conflict between your charts). 

… board games with Inosuke until one of you rage quits, and the other has to convince them to: stop sulking in the bathroom, and play again. Who rage quits usually depends on the game, and you’re much better at goading him into another round than he is at bribing you.

… a quiet stroll out with Gyomei, so not exactly staying in, but still more peaceful and mindful than going to a bar or attending an event. He compares your presence to the radiant fullness of the moon, and you tuck a fallen flower behind his ear. “How do you know what the moon feels like?” He doesn’t quite know how to explain gentle, mystical tug of moonrise, so he settles for, “I can feel you, and that is more than enough.”

… cleaning and redecorating Kaburamura’s cage with Obanai. It’s a little gross, and a lot of a fun. From teasing him for his obvious doting, “Does Kaburamura really need six donut cozies?” to being flat out rejected, “Sooo that’s a no to body painting? It’s safe for humans! How could it not be safe for snakes?” You end up falling asleep as he dutifully photographs Kaburamura curled up on your shoulder #guess I’ll finish cleaning by myself.

… doing Tanjirou’s make up, and him doing yours. If you don’t own any make up, then you go on a field trip (minimal budget). You randomly pick themes (old fashioned via “from a hat” or modern via “app for raffle draw”), set a time limit, and then send photos of your final looks to your Hashira + Kamaboko group chat to decide on a winner.

… making the most outlandish cocktails (or mocktails) you can think of with Mitsuri. They have to be intricate, original, AND taste delicious (~just okay suffices too), or you put on a pair of socks. By the end of the evening, you’re drunk (or sugar high) as heck, and have at least four pairs of socks on.

… a project with Shinobu. Whether that’s tackling a Lego set, making candles, or deep cleaning a specific room (likely the kitchen or bathroom), the laughter is ever constant, frustration to be expected, and resulting pride and excitement at the final product a worthy reward — not to mention the way she kisses you afterward! *happy sigh*

… cooking with Kyojuro #bet you didn’t see that coming #sarcasm intended teehee. Sometimes it’s complicated, hours long endeavors; other times it’s spaghetti; and there’s always take out if your fancy Huntsman pie doesn’t go to plan. He’s almost unbearably efficient when it comes to cooking tidily, and chops vegetables so quickly that you just marvel at how his fingers are intact.

… watching a movie with Sanemi. This includes: ~arguing over which movie to watch for a solid hour (give or take), another twenty minutes for snack prep, and another half an hour to spontaneously design and build a pillow fort (for the optimal movie watching experience, of course). Even when it’s a movie he swears he despises, he’ll still stay awake through the whole damn thing because it matters to you, and you matter to him.

… creating scavenger hunts for each other with Muichiro. You roll dice to determine who gets to claim which room(s) and in what order, set up your hunts, and then hunt (duh)! Winner gets to choose dinner (or dessert if you already ate dinner), and loser gets to cook aforementioned dinner (or dessert). You usually win, but he notices when you begin making his clues easier, and promptly informs you that he’d rather lose honestly than win on Easy Mode. “Your happy noises whenever I feed you are prize enough for me.”

… planning your future with Giyuu. It’s easy to get caught up in the mayhem of Life™, so evenings in are a grounding, intimate opportunity to reconnect and recenter with him. From cuddling on the couch to dancing in the kitchen to watching the moon’s traverse through your favorite window, you discuss current stressors, recent successes, and your gratitude for each other. It may seem simple, but it’s the little things that fit most snugly in your hearts. “Where do you see us in a year? Five years? A decade?” you ask. His answer remains constant: “Together.”

… reading with Tengen. He’ll read to you, or you to him; you’ll share a book, or the couch, or the bed; and you alternate who gets up to brew more tea. If you prefer audio books, then he’ll occasionally eavesdrop, and when it’s your turn to be on tea duty, you more often than not return to a cute sticky note (with dramatic commentary regarding the chapter you’re on) bookmarking your page.

[ohlovxr]

rich step!daddy James who spends all his money of you!!

“‘re you sure, daddy?” you bit your lip as you played with the tag on the little dress, swaying on the balls of your feet in the dressing room.

“oh, baby, if there’s anything i want to spend money on, ‘s this dress and a thousand more just like ‘em.” he stepped forward and took you into his arms, running his hands down your back until they cupped your ass. he squeezed appreciatively, leaning down to press his lips to yours, humming into it before pulling away, “can’t wait to see you runnin’ around the house in this little thing.”

you give him a shy smile, shrugging before your eyes gleam ip at him mischievously. “then you better test it out before you buy it - make sure you can get me ready for you quick once you catch me.”

[gojology]

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (1/2)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | i’m REPOSTING this because my already bruised ego absolutely rejects the fact that my writing got 33 notes, that, and i just don’t want to continue this if it doesn’t get any traction. i’m not good at nsfw, so i feel like if not a lotta people wanna read my work, why try hard on something i’m bad at? anyways, this whole club concept is totally from @/mystic-sky or skyfelt on ao3. pls check her out. if anything is inaccurate its prob bcuz the only reference i have is the club penguin dance club teehee. 

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | mentions of sex, drinking, you’re literally at a club.

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2847

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | You’re alone, at a bar, waiting for the end of the night to come. Then again this was bound to happen, as clubs weren’t really your thing, but promises of snacks and money from your friends were really what you came for. A mysterious, yet intriguing white haired man approaches you, and eventually he piques your interest. Little do you know, you had piqued his as well, and he’s having a hard time trying to hide it.

Bright, flickering vivid lights was all the human eye could see from where you were sitting.  You’re sitting at a bar, legs restless and rhythmically bumping against the table. You had come here for a “fun night”, even though they promptly ditched you for the lively dance floor afterwards, you assumed to pick up guys and have some encounters in the bedroom.  It wasn’t quite your thing though, well, you didn’t know yourself, you were far too shy to find out, though.  That’s how you found yourself alone, at a bar, completely sober.   Your friends pushed you, (which was a bit weird since they were no where near you now- so really now, what was the point?) luring you with yummy snacks and treats to come out of your house for once. Hesitantly agreeing, you didn’t expect to have them dress you up as well.   Fighting them off and running for the bedroom door, you hated the very idea of even interacting with anyone. Moaning and groaning like a child that you weren’t getting enough for going to a social event, and not wearing your beloved baggy hoodies and sweatpants.   “Okay, okay!” your friend stood up, hands above her. Shaking her head and letting out an exasperated sigh.   “We’ll add on a free dinner- on us.”   Raising an eyebrow, you scrolled through your phone. This wasn’t a bad deal, not at all. You decided to not reply, though.   “Ugh, (Y/N), Okay. A 50 DOLLAR GIFTCARD TO YOUR FAVORITE STORE. Do we have a deal?” Your friend blurted out, sitting down on her chair with a huff.   The girl clearly wanted you to go to the club.  You grinned evilly, realizing just how much you can get.   Of course, you wouldn’t spend the money without spoiling some of your girlies, but you had gotten even more then you asked for, and well- sure it was a bit mean, but you figured afterwards you could go out with them without the bargaining.   And so, facepalm after facepalm ensued, offering you more and more unnecessary amounts of money and food, you finally broke under the pressure of being a tad too mean. You weren’t planning on torturing your friends for life.   At that point, who could really resist?   Now, enthusiastic with your eyes only on the prize, you allowed yourself to be dressed up just this once. Your friends had whipped up the nicest outfit they could without it showing very much skin (per your request!).   Your friends had let you borrow a rather short white plaid skirt they had paired with a casual simple t-shirt. Slightly sheer, and a warm, yet soft cardigan that was kind of scratchy. Donning a pair of tights that you had picked yourself and your favorite pair of beaten up Doc Martens. You realize that it didn’t look half-bad on you.  For once, you thought you looked nice.   However, it seemed to pale in comparison with the scandalous outfits your friends seemed to prefer. Dresses hugging their curves, showing as much of their skin as possible without being full-blown naked, you wonder how one can hold so much self-confidence. But you ignore the feeling, repeating to yourself that you looked good in your own ways.  You wave for the bar tender, feeling a rush of self confidence as you glance down at your outfit. The rather disgruntled man eyes perked up at the request, rushing over.  “May I offer you something, ma’am?”  You gulp, the self confidence rapidly crashing back down, almost as soon as it had come up. You weren’t quite the drinker, and you weren’t looking to find if you were. Running a hand through your already tousled hair, you stutter out a short sentence.  “Can I have some.. Water? With, uh, ice.”  He nods, seemingly shocked that you weren’t ordering any alcoholic beverages before turning his back on you and quickly whipping up the rather simplistic drink. Well, then again, judging by the outfit, one glance would be enough to tell him that you were forced to come, or shy.    Shocked by how comprehensible you had been when speaking to him, your lips curve slightly into a warm smile. Working around your fear of talking to people in unusual places was good.   Handing the glass of water to you with cold fingertips, you nod back. Skimming his hand as you did so. You grimace, contact felt weird.   Taking a sip, you looked away and hoped not to make conversation.  You heard a rather loud laugh, which was an understatement, because you could hear it even through the mass of chatter and movement of the club.  Curious by who could possibly be louder than the sheer deafening cheers of a drunken crowd, you look towards the other direction, before setting your eyes on a ridiculously white haired man.  He was laughing again now, and your eyes immediately drift over to his very defined jawline. No wonder so many girls were around him, by the looks of it, he looked like a famous model.  His head high above all the females crowding around him, you notice the man next to him. A disgruntled, yet polite looking individual you assumed to be his friend sat next to him.   He was also towering over the women, nodding and smiling at the many girls tempting him with their bodies, but he seemed so clueless that you doubted he even had a clue of what was going on.   Fidgeting and playing with his hair, he was clad in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. The crowd of women around him wasn’t as large as the white haired man, you noted, but still large nonetheless.  “Oh, him?” the bartender blurted, you turn to face him again, cursing yourself for being so obvious in your endeavors.  Wiping a cocktail shaker down with a towel, he ducks his head, studying the remaining water droplets. You stare daggers at the bartender for interrupting your train of thought, before cursing yourself for being so mean.  “He’s a regular, gets drunk quite frequently, and he’s Prince Charming to the ladies.”  Rubbing the back of your head, you stare back at the bartender. Unsure what to make of his approach on conversation.  Reconsidering like the good person you are, you thought about how annoyed the guy got talking to a bunch of drunk college kids. He seemed like he had good intentions, and talking to someone that was sober was sure to be refreshing.  “Yeah, I can tell, the guy has a lot of girls around him. He looks really... Lively. To put it simply.”  The bartender laughed, relaxing himself as soon as he heard the friendly words leave your lips. He finished wiping down the cocktail shaker and proceeded to the neatly stacked cups which had just been washed.  “No, the guy’s just friendly. Real hit with the ladies, especially his.. Uh, physical attributes. See his friend over there? Lil bit more modest, he started coming here recently. Don’t let that good natured face fool you though, they’re both the same..”  You rolled your eyes, Typical. Taking the last few gulps of your water before you slammed it back down. The bartender took the cup, refilling it hastily and giving it back to you.  You heard several girls giggling, and you glanced back in the direction of the men. The long, raven haired man had his arms wrapped around dozen or more girls, swarming him as if he was a celebrity.  The bartender was right, he looked so bored when you had studied the two, but here he was now with the same army of girls heeding his every call.  That left the white haired man alone.  Shaking his head with a small chortle, he took another swig out of his drink before looking down at the empty glass, he stood up, and by God were those legs long, before walking to the empty stool next to you.  “Yo. Bartender. Refill?”  The bartender set down the cup he was scrubbing down, rummaging his hands through various shelfs, filled with various drinks and add-ons, before taking the mysterious man’s glass.  Curious, you take a small peek at the man, almost jumping back when he was staring unflinching at you, too. Taking this as an invitation to gape at such an incredibly well-fit body. Your eyes stare up at what you could; starting with his collarbones.  Paired deliciously with a simple gold chain, you had to admit, it was a good touch. The simplicity of the chain was enough for you to gape dumbly at anything else that was interesting, and was left dumbfounded by the sheer hotness of... Well, him, and those incredibly prominent collarbones.  You look downwards, and he’s wearing a black, simple t-shirt. Not a wrinkle, nor specks of lint in sight.  Well toned arms, and incredibly strong looking ones at that rested idly against his sides. An expensive watch glinted in the light.  He hadn’t quite said anything yet, so you look down even more without hesitation. Almost like you couldn’t control yourself.   Tucking his shirt in neatly was his belt, you could easily tell it was a high-end brand. Casual, wide flared black jeans, the guy really loved black you noted. The accessories made up for it though, various chains were lazily thrown in, and it made the outfit so much more hotter, especially on him.  “My eyes are up here, girly.”  Feeling your cheeks become full to the brim with warmth, your hands fumble about, words formulating at the tip of your tongue to apologize profusely, you look up.  Circular black shades concealed the white haired man’s eyes, and your heart pounds more. Something about him was so intriguing.  About to blurt out nonsense about actually being very interested at a wall, he held his palm up, a large toothy grin gracing his features.  “It’s okay, I’m into hot chicks ogling me. Especially hot chicks with cute outfits.”  Everything on your mind was suddenly wiped clean, you open your mouth before closing, unsure about what to say.  He thought you were hot?   He thought your outfit was cute?  He laughs, and you snap out of your daze. Muttering a quick thanks when the bartender handed his rather sugary exotic drink to him.  “Saw you looking at me earlier, sweetcheeks.” he hums before tipping the glassware near his glossy lips, sipping the drink, looking down at you as he did.  “No, I think you saw wrong... Are you blind?” you asked, still recovering from the compliments you hadn’t ever received in your life prior to this strange encounter. Desperate to get out of the advancingly awkward conversation, you had never been placed in such a weird setting.  He snorts, taking another deep sip of his drink.  “Nah. People think that, though. People think I’m... Old, for some reason?”  “Hm, I wonder why.” replying sarcastically, you felt yourself jolt up, a mix of uneasiness and excitement bubbling up inside of you. By your experience and tips from your friends, these type of guys seemed to like sassy, teasing girls.  Whipping out your phone from your bag, you try to appear casual, even though your excitement was starting to die down by his silence, turning into dread.  Whistling, trying to look like you didn’t have a care in the world, you physically wince as you realize how stupid you potentially look. Wondering what your friends would say about such an attractive guy seemingly hitting on you, then again, they didn’t seem to really care.  No new notifications, and no familiar faces running up to you with open, friendly arms.  He chuckles again. “I like your style, missy. You come here alone? That’s a shame, pretty girls like you deserve to have someone to come with.”  You look down, struggling to contain the growing smile. Doing a small little victory dance in your head as you realize that he had literally stated that he liked your style.   “I did come with someone, my friends.”  “Where’s your friends?” he inquired.  “Partying at the dance floor, flirting with guys probably.” you nonchalantly reply, struggling to hold your tone, but even then it wavered. You didn’t get hit on often, and when you did they were there to help you.  “That makes two of us, my friend Geto pulled all my chicks, and my pussy for tonight.”  He said it so nonchalantly, you almost spat out your water.  “What are you here for? Some good dick?” he shifted his arm to rest against the table, his hand against his head, lazily looking at you.  You study his figure once more, ignoring his previous question. He looked like he came straight out of a magazine, or a movie. Broad, yet strong looking shoulders.  He looked straight up fake.  He towered over you, and you estimated that he was over 6 foot. His hair seemed soft, and manageable, and so, so fun to play with. A Deep, yet playful voice that would probably make everyone within a 6 mile radius instantly melt.  “Hm, cute. I like straight-forward girls.” he poked fun at you, grinning carelessly.  “I’m not being straightforward in any shape or form, what do you mean?” you flutter your eyelashes innocently at him, knowing damn well what he meant.  “You’re fucking studying me like a textbook before finals.”  “You still haven’t told me your name!” you shot back without thinking, you didn’t want to be caught doing something so scandalous. He winked, you took this as a sign of him following suit.  “That’s what makes it fun, baby.”  “Here, lets trade.”   You had decided that you really liked his style, after letting you off the hook so easily like that. He was shrouded in a cloak of mystery, and you found it hot. That, or maybe he wanted to just fuck around and have one night-stands, which wasn’t your style at all, but you still wanted to see where this would go.  “Tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine. Fair right?”  He stroked his chin with his unoccupied arm, contorting his face and making you giggle a little, even though it wasn’t very funny. With him, you felt like you could strangely be yourself.  “Hmmmmm....” stroking his chin more, he began to pick up and sip his beverage as if it was a tea cup, holding opposite ends of each other and deeply drinking. He set the cup down.  “Nope.”  Exasperated, you slam your cup down.  “That aside, let’s get back to the point!,” he leaned closer into you, smiling a little as you jumped back. Your confidence when you talked with him had dissolved into thin air.  “You’re really cute.”  Frozen in place, you gawk back at him.    He was straightforward, no doubt it, but you didn’t think he was this straightforward. Most men you knew played a game of cat and mouse, only if you caught them you were rewarded.  Opening and closing your mouth, no sound came out. He snorts, taking another sip and waving the bartender to come back, who was now washing cups awkwardly on the other side of the bar.   You almost pitied the bartender, the guy had ordered so many refills at this point, you wouldn’t be dumb to assume he was either a raging alcoholic or another dumb college kid.  “Refill, again.”   The bartender nodded solemnly in reply, swiftly taking the cup. You realize how overworked the poor guy was, wondering how many refills the mysterious white haired man had gotten before you had even step foot in the vicinity.  “I’d love to take you to the bedroom, baby.” he nods as the bartender returns, sipping and looking back down at you.   You bolted upwards, cursing as you realize you’re slouching, not very attractive. The straightforwardness from him was, though. No doubt it, but you were really not looking to break your heart over a fuckboy.  “Uh, um.”  He tips your chin upward, and your heart leaps out of your throat. There was something so undeniably attractive about this act, maybe it was the way he knew how to make you into pudding, or maybe it was the aura of dominance.   Haughtiness literally radiated off of him, as if he knew he could pull a girl in under 1 minute. Well, then again, he probably did know.  Fuck, what were you thinking, this was a complete stranger that could probably pull chicks more attractive then you, times 100.  “Aw, shy? Cute. Don’t worry, you’re intriguing, and if you’re bad at sex, not to worry. I’ll do it all, and I’m good. Maybe give you a few lessons here and there.” he chirped, tilting his head, curiosity evident.   “But, it’s all up to you, sugar. I’m not trying to force you into this.” the man added.   He did seem hot, and this was really a one-in-a-million chance. No one had really looked at you that way at the level of attractiveness that he had. You didn’t want to regret anything, and getting out of your shell was good right?   What could go wrong?   “...I wouldn’t mind.”   A crooked smirk spread across his face.   “I’ll call an Uber.”

[lynenspray]

wenjoy 03 part 2

*set in the cheating!wenjoy universe

prompt: how about irene coming home while joy is over, and joy has to hide and watch while irene fucks wendy

a/n: good idea!!! but was this the scenario u expected? teehee. wonder if we should make irene g!p too,,,, hMMMM

(HARD WARNING: dubious consent)

---

let you in my bed

*wenjoy 03 part 2, set between the prequel and part 1

(wenjoy gp!joy wenrene voyeurism)

"had a drunk night out, lost my apartment keys. won't you be a friendly neighbor, pretty please?" joy sing-songed. 

wendy scrunched her nose as she moved aside. "poetic. so impressive," she deadpanned. the living room was immediately plagued by the stench of the woman she welcomed inside; it was like someone spilled an entire bottle of whiskey on her. god, at least when wendy was in the same situation, she had the decency to drink fruity cocktails--none of that dirty old man kind of shit joy apparently preferred. 

wendy closed the door and checked the clock. it was midnight. irene would be coming home soon. 

can't do anything frisky with joy, unfortunately--not that she wasn't interested in sex with a tipsy joy. she was rough when sober, so how much more while drunk off alcohol?

they'd have to try it. just not right now. irene was on her way home.

next time. 

"take the couch."

joy groaned as she made her way through the apartment. "I don't fit on your goddamned excuse of a couch," she laughed, falling back on the mentioned furniture anyway, taking the smell of alcohol with her. "you guys are tiny and so is your stupid sofa." she spread her arms atop the backrest, showing that she was right. she wouldn't fit on this thing--not without getting neck and back pains for days, though it wasn't like it was meant for more than two people in the first place. 

wendy crossed her arms. "then take the floor."

"how hospitable. the rumours are true--you really are the kindest angel in this building."

the blonde scoffed, face flushing. she was right on that count. if irene witnessed just how mean wendy could be to joy, completely unprovoked (at least in her view), well... she didn't want to give her girlfriend that impression. 

"what do you want me to do, then?" 

joy grinned. "you tell me."

"the toilet."

she was probably going to puke her guts out in the middle of the day anyway, may as well save her the trip. it would be perfectly reasonable for wendy to suggest that. 

"that's comfortable," joy replied, sarcastic. 

wendy pinched the bridge of her nose. "the hallway."

"clever." 

fine. she couldn't kick her out when she just let her in. but then that would only leave--

no. 

no way. 

was she suggesting that joy sleep in their bed? 

wendy glared. "fine, then I'll take the stupid sofa, you guys take the bed." joy and irene could sleep beside each other--it wasn't like they were strangers. the three of them had had pleasant interactions before, but they were always outside the bedroom; casual conversation at the elevator lobby, joy helping them out that time their sink was acting up, wendy walking into irene and joy having a conversation about fabric scents in the communal laundry room, wendy offering extra servings of food she'd made. they were civil--even friends. not that close, but they were getting there. 

especially after that blowjob in joy's kitchen. that moment the woman finally fucked wendy raw in her bed. that one time they--

wendy cleared her throat. stop thinking about that. 

across from her, joy looked even more tickled silly by the suggestion of the smaller woman, cheeks rosy and skin red from the whiskey, smile as wide as it's ever been. "I wonder if you'd be fine with it sleeping in a couch that's fresh with puke on it."

wendy felt dread spike through her. "don't you dare..." she trailed off, already imagining the hell irene would give her if joy made any mark at all on their furniture.

the woman only smirked and raised her index finger in front of her, before proceeding to open her mouth and place it on her tongue, slowly sucking on it and--

wendy felt a heat boil in her tummy; a slick wet feeling slip out of her and soak her panties. fuck, joy was too hot for her own good. 

the blonde grabbed the taller's wrist before she could go any deeper, breathing heavily from the rush of heat in her pussy. "are you fucking crazy?" 

joy wasn't even resisting her hold. she still look relaxed while seated, other arm not moving an inch. the only difference was that she had a smirk on instead of a wide smile. 

"crazy for you, sweetheart," she gave her an air kiss as wendy tried pull away, disgusted. joy was so full of herself on a regular day, and it turned out that she was even worse while shit faced. tsk.

the taller and much stronger woman only had to jerk her arm once for wendy to fall right on her lap, though, thighs over her legs and chest to chest.

"is irene around?"

"on her way home."

joy hummed, staring at wendy's lips with glazed eyes, licking her own. "I miss this pussy of yours."

wendy gasped when she felt a hand on the base of her spine, pulling her closer, letting their crotches meet. joy was already hard--it wasn't obvious from the baggy jeans she wore, but now wendy's center was right against it, rocking back and forth almost against her will. how could she stop when joy's hips fit so neatly between her thighs? 

"it missed you too," wendy whined when she adjusted her pelvis and the peak of joy's buldge hit her clit. "oh fuckkkkkk," she whimpered, ready to give it all, ready to cum right here on top of the woman if she'd let her.

of course joy didn't.

the younger woman pushed her off with a chuckle as wendy bit back a cry. god fucking dammit.

"wash your face--you're redder than me right now."

the smaller woman moved without further complaint. it really wouldn't be good for irene to be suspicious in any way, and wendy's flushed face would be like being caught red handed. she arrived at the bathroom sink and splashed cold water. focus. focus. don't get caught.

the main door opened just as she came back into the living area, joy splayed on the couch as if she stumbled her way to it. what an actress.

"ah, wendy, you're still up?" irene whispered, removing her shoes by the entryway.

"yeah, take a look at who came in." wendy whispered back as they approached the couch. 

"oh."

stay cool as a cucumber, wendy. "she was really drunk, and apparently lost her keys."

irene frowned, crossing her arms as she observed their guest. "yeah, I can smell it in the air."

"sorry you came home to this."

irene blinked before looking at her. "I'll consider anywhere with anything in it a home, so long as it has you."

wendy chuckled. irene was so straightforward about her feelings--it was one of the things wendy loved about her. she was reliable, kind to a fault, really funny when she was in a mood--and most of all, honest. too bad she ended up with wendy. 

"why don't we get some rest?" 

the blonde moved over to turn the lights off, but irene stopped her. "she doesn't look comfortable. the couch is too small."

wendy raised a hand to place against her chin, pretending to think, when inside she was trying to hold in her laughter. joy was a lot more in tune with irene than she'd ever expected. she read wendy's girlfriend like a book. 

"you're right. why don't we bring her to bed, I'll take the couch?" 

irene shook her head. "the cushions already probably smell like alcohol. the bed is big enough for three. I'll go get changed--try to wake her up?" 

"come here," wendy gestured for her to come closer, pulling the woman into her space until they were almost hugging, hands around each others' waists. "why are you such a good person? it makes me love you even more."

irene breathed out a chuckle. "I'm only nice around other people because you are. I don't want to give a bad impression if you ever want to be friends with them."

"you think I want to be friends with joy?"

"aren't you already?"

wendy hummed, thinking of joy's dick in her mouth, in her pussy, in her hand. yeah, those count as friendly interactions. "yes, I think we're good friends, actually."

"I can tell you two get along. I'm glad, because she seems like a nice girl. as long as you two play nice."

wendy laughed.

"I don't want to have to scare her off if she hurts your feelings."

wendy really really liked getting hurt, actually, albeit physically. but the threat was real. irene would raze the ground for her. it made her swoon. what a charmer. 

she glanced at the couch. nothing like that annoying giant.

irene kissed her cheek before letting go, making her way to their bathroom to get ready for bed.

wendy kneeled by the sofa and tugged on a small handful of silky black hair. "wake up. you got your wish."

joy opened an eye, and wendy could tell she was on the verge of bursting out laughing. "you guys are so cute. it almost makes me want to vomit from the sugar rush."

the blonde stood and pulled at an arm, trying her best to haul her off the couch. "just get to bed already," she huffed.

"thank you for the generous offer," joy snickered, standing to put an arm over wendy's shoulders, leaning half her weight on her. "you really are heavensent."

wendy felt her eye twitch as they moved to the bedroom. their apartment wasn't huge, but it had a room, unlike joy's, and there was no fake kitchen island made of a flimsy table with a microwave on top and a fruit bowl with phallic looking fruits on it. 

also, of course, they had a couch. not that it was apparently of much use besides having sex on.

joy laid down on irene's side of the bed, an arm over her eyes to block out the lamp light. wendy stared at joy's figure. irene was right--the bed was big enough for three. with irene and wendy both being fond of sleeping until noon, it made sense. space to both cuddle when it was too cold and untangle their limbs from each other when it got too warm.

wendy let her eyes wander over the woman's body--her cropped tight shirt hugging her breasts in all the right ways and teasing her with a view of joy's flat stomach. the thick, baggy jeans, hung low and showing a sliver of her hipbones. 

damn. if only irene wasn't here.

"let's at least get you in some more comfortable clothes," wendy whispered, hearing the shower turn off. irene could come in any second. "help me out." she expertly unbuttoned joy's jeans and tugged them when the woman raised her hips.

of course she had a hard on.

wendy chuckled. "you horndog." she patted the buldge quickly, aware of their predicament.

"are you any better?" joy smirked, eyes still hidden behind an arm.

of course not.

wendy practically felt a flood gush out of her at the sight of joy in their bed. they hadn't done it here, not yet, but the sight of joy on their bed, in only a shirt and some boxer briefs, tainting their bedroom, cumming in her on their shared bed, making her all hers as she laid face down on irene's side, seeing irene's books on the nightstand, smelling irene's scent on the pillow. fuck.

"I'm good," wendy replied nonchalantly. it wasn't like joy could see her blush, anyway. she grabbed the end of the sheets and pulled up the covers until joy's waist just as irene walked in and turned the lamp off. 

they laid joy on her side, facing the center of the bed, and then placed a pillow in front of her.

"I'll stay in the middle," irene announced, puffing up her pillow and getting on the mattress.

wendy slipped in on her other side. "are you sure, babe? it's kind of my fault she's here at all."

irene stared at her, eyes as hard as steel, gaze sharp enough to cut through wendy if she disagreed. ah, there it is. wendy felt the heat in her navel burn even more. fuck, irene was so hot when she was possessive. if only she was like this more often during their intimate moments. 

the older woman wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer, sparking a gasp out of wendy when a thigh slotted in between her own two, almost touching her where she needed attention the most. 

"I'm sure."

she bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying not to whine or move. oh god, she needed friction, even just a little bit. she shifted her leg in a pretense of adjusting herself when really she just wanted a small taste of irene's skin on her. just--fuck. just a little bit. she can fall asleep after this.

she shifted a bit more, her heat grinding on irene's thigh, and couldn't hold back a tiny whimper.

oops. fuck.

"what are you doing?"

wendy opened her eyes to see irene staring at her in bewilderment, unaware that wendy could get so desperate.

"sorry," wendy whispered. "I just--I'm a bit frustrated."

she faced irene's stare head on, lying to her face. she was incredibly frustrated, not just a bit, especially with joy's cock so near her but off limits. the thought of being in the same bed, not allowed to have joy when she was usually making wendy all hers--it drove her kind of crazy. not to mention that irene was right here, in her arms, unaware of exactly what was going through her mind.

"I'm too tired to leave the bed."

wendy whined, but ultimately nodded. of course. she didn't expect any less, but...

"then let's--um," she whispered, "let's stay here. please? just a little bit, I promise I'll stay quiet."

irene gave her a look. "joy is right behind me."

wendy let out an annoyed sigh. fuck. "she's drunk, babe. out like a light. please, please," she started to beg, slowly grinding her hips onto irene's thigh, letting her feel her soaked panties. "if she wakes up we can just tell her it was her imagination, she's drunk after all. pretty please? unnie?"

she heard irene hiss our a breath. hah, she was so funny with her unnie kink. so easy.

wendy shifted, closer, closer, and raised her head so she could place her lips right above irene's sensitive ear. "unnie," she whispered breathily, then focused her gaze on the person on the other side of the bed, joy's features glowing in the pale moonlight, the luscious lips, the sharp line of her nose--

the open eyes, staring right back at her.

fuck. oh fuck.

"unnie--please," she begged, eyes on joy, gaze on her twitching hand on the pillow between wendy's girlfriend and her fucking--what? fuck buddy?

irene toom that moment to hook a finger on the waistband of her shorts, pulling them and her underwear down, wendy shifting her lower body so they could easily slip off. she was soaking wet.

she kept her head atop irene's, lips still on her ear, delivering kittenish licks on the shell of it as she moved to wrap her arms around irene's neck, joy watching her all the while.

irene pulled on the covers on their side, and joy was quick to do the same, hiding the sound of her shifting through wendy's soft whimpers.

"touch me, please."

she lifted her leg, the cold bite of the evening contrasting dramatically with irene's warm hand on her center. she teased her, rubbing at her clit, spreading her slick around, almost touching her hole but not quite.

"unnie," wendy whined, bucking her hips to subtly try and catch those playful fingers. "please."

across from her, joy lifted a finger to press against her own smirking lips, telling her to be quiet. then, she pulled her pajamas down an inch, reaching for her cock and positioning it so the tip was the only thing past the waistband.

oh fuck, she was so fucking hot. this entire thing was. wendy lifted her leg higher and bucked her hips faster, until irene gave in an gave her what she wanted--what she'd been begging for. those small, but strong fingers gently slipped past her hole and entered her, and wendy covered her own mouth with a hand to stop her from groaning aloud, letting irene fuck her harder, fuck her deeper. those hands were sinful, from the very tips of her fingers inside her to the knuckles that slammed into her, wanted to push past her entrance too, wanting to be in her, wanting to fuck her silly. oh god, oh god.

fuck. 

wendy keened onto irene as she watched joy lick her index finger and bring it down to her crotch, rubbing at her own tip, dragging the pad of her finger against the lining of her cock, precum dripping out as she caught them with her digit.

wendy was rutting against irene now, a little harshly, and irene slipped another finger in her, stretching her pleasantly, getting deeper, almost hitting that spot.

"more, more, unnie," wendy whined, feeling her whole body heat up, kissing irene's ear. "I'll be quiet."

"good girl."

wendy closed her eyes with a gasp as irene slipped another digit inside her, stretching her hole, quim spreading all over her thighs. she was a good girl, she was quiet in irene's arms, holding back her moans and groans, but she was also so, so bad--fucking herself onto her girlfriend as she stared at someone else, wanted longer fingers who could fuck her deeper, someone who would be rougher, tip her past her breaking point until she was nothing but a slut used for pleasure.

she opened her eyes just as she was about to reach her peak, irene's fingers moving inside her like they belonged there, joy holding her down with her gaze alone, those eyes, that smirk. oh god, fuck fuck fuck.

"that's it, baby. come for unnie," irene hissed in her ear, and wendy felt herself burst. 

her entire body was now moving against irene as she came, the delicious waves of pleasure washing over her, her hot breath puffing out of her. she went almost delirious, and joy kept watching, kept looking, until she twitched too, hand on her own cock, cumming the same time. 

her seed spilled into her hand, and she wiped them across the underside of her shirt. something in wendy snapped at the sight, at the feeling of irene continuing to fuck her, and she came another time, her hips wildly rutting, no shame now. she opened her mouth and held her tongue out, asking, begging--

"what a good girl," irene whispered in her ear.

no, no, she was a naughty, naughty girl. and joy was the only one who knew. 

the taller woman dragged a finger against her own stomach, picking up some cum, and held it near wendy's face, coming closer until wendy grabbed it with her free hand and placed it on her tongue so she could taste her, that cum she missed, that cum she could be fed with for days on end, not needing any other sustenance.

joy tasted salty, as always, and gooey because it was her seed--but also so fucking delicious. wendy pulled her hand more until she could swallow it down, knuckle deep.

do you miss me sucking you off?

joy responded with a bite to her lip as wendy came down from her orgasm, their locked gazes never breaking. she pulled her hand back and tucked her cock away as wendy let out a sigh, moving back to cuddle into irene as the older woman pulled the covers back up.

wendy nuzzled into irene's neck, tickling the older woman. "what about you?" she questioned her girlfriend, falling faster asleep as she spoke each word.

"next time," irene replied, kissing her forehead.

hm. next time.

wendy wondered who would get to use this bed in that next time scenario--if it would be irene and her or, if joy could get her way, the two of them instead. they'd just have to see. wendy kissed the skin in front of her, irene's sharp collarbone, and fell asleep in her girlfriend's arms, satisfied.

[katastrophe-s]

OC Interview

Tagged by @/kornyo teehee 💗

If you see this and feel like doing it, consider yourself tagged 💗

name ➔ Rolling her shoulders, she stretches her legs in front of her and crosses them at the ankle, “just Roach.”

are you single ➔ “…” 

are you happy ➔ “…”

are you angry ➔ “I’m certainly heading in that direction.” Followed by an admittedly impressive eye roll.

are your parents still married ➔ Sighing dramatically, she swings an arm over the back of her seat to recline, “no, don’t reckon. They’re still together as far as I know, but marriage was never on their agenda.”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “Ontario.”

hair ➔ A tilt of the head. “As in, the color? Do you have fucking eyes?”

eye color ➔ Another eye roll. Blows a strand of hair off her cheek lazily. “Pink like a flamingo. Dickhead.” You get the feeling she isn’t taking this very seriously.

mood ➔ “Bored shitless.”

gender ➔ She picks at the black lacquer on her nails, uncrosses her ankles, and adds nothing of further interest.

summer or winter ➔  “I suppose winter.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ "Yawn.”

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Nope. Next.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ Her gaze falls downcast, like she was somewhere else for a brief moment, before exhaling through her nose quietly. “A baseball bat, if I recall.”

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ She snickers at the thought,  but you’re not certain why exactly. “How about this – if you guess my answer correctly you win a gold star and a capri sun! Any takers? No? Shame.”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No – well, yes. Depends.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Fuck if I remember.” Her wrist rolls in a vague waving gesture, perhaps a little too defensively, and she looks away. “Probably. Who’s to say?”

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Another little laugh, as if she were sharing an inside joke with herself, and whispers, “millions, my dear. Millions.” 

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Tell you what I do have; a tally of all the windows I’ve smashed.” She’s clearly amused, smiling widely.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Eh, lust is too easy. Everyone picks that answer. Love is worth a bit of effort, in my opinion.”

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea, no sugar.”

cats or dogs ➔ So far this is the only question that seems to pique her interest even a little bit, and she scoots forward. “Cats,” she admits quietly.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A shrug, somewhat disappointed that the next question wasn’t about her pets. She twirls a white-blonde curl with her fingertips idly, “quality over quantity, no?”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “I’m charmed well enough to do anything if the company’s worth it.”

day or night ➔ “Night.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Guess.” 

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Gravity’s a family friend,” her smile is oddly off-putting in a way that’s difficult to pinpoint, “he would never let me fall.”

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ A slow upward twist of the mouth, “you could say that I’m a creature of desire, oui.” 

wanted to disappear ➔ “Who hasn’t?”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ She spits something under her breath before answering. “Eyes. Windows to the soul or whatever the hell they say. You can’t fake your eyeballs, unlike a smile. Not without a bit more of an effort, anyway.”

shorter or taller ➔ “You know what would be fun? This quiz, if I was blackout drunk and at least ten years younger.”

intelligence or attraction ➔ “No one’s gonna come up and fuck you just ‘cause you have a four digit IQ.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I should know.”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “I tend to walk into a room and marry the first person I lay my eyes on, actually. I’ve got such a long list of divorcees to wipe my ass on. Is that not a common phenomenon?” Her smile suggests she’s just teasing you now.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ “We did once, a long time ago. I don’t call home as often as I should these days.”

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ She giggles sweetly at this, swinging one leg over the other in a graceful sort of manner. “Do I look anything other than perfect to you? Of course not.”

have you ever ran away from home ➔ “It’s the last thing I did before I caught a cab out of there.” Her pale hair sways as she shakes her head at the memory, “motherfuckers.”

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Yes, but you only have three guesses as to where, precisely, I’ve been booted from. Make them count.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Bit counterintuitive to still be calling them friends if that were true, no?”

who is your best friend ➔ “Interesting. Do other people genuinely tell you the full names of their loved ones without concern? How novel.”

who knows everything about you ➔ “If you ever find out the answer to this one, give me a shout, yeah? Love to meet ‘em.”

[countessofsnark]

Snarky Recap - Thunderbirds Are Go: ‘Chaos - part two’

The One Where Chaos Meets Order.

Business as usual for International Rescue. But looks like the tinies are home alone, which leads to the following brilliant piece of dialogue:

Alan: ‘Did someone say space rescue? I’m on it!’

Gordon: ‘Actually, he just said situation.’

Alan: ‘Mmm, close enough. See you in space.’

I think someone ought to cut down on Alan’s daily sugar intake. *squint*

 But halfway through gear up, Big Bro announces that the GDF bot has the situation under control.

‘This is the most embarrassing moment of my life.’ Nah, could be worse. You could have been wearing your Spongebob Squarepants boxers. The ones you got from the kids’ section when Grandma wasn’t looking. But look at that poor pup’s face. My heart is breaking, yo.

Meanwhile, at the GDF facility, Captain Rigby’s patience has proven to be thinner than Mars’ atmosphere. He’s going to try and roast Havoc. Something is telling me that this is just what she’s been hoping for.

Just as Rigby goes full on bad cop mode, Havoc appears behind him, having deployed a hologram that’s sitting behind the table. A few seconds later, she effortlessly sprints past Rigby and the guard. TOLD YOU.

Back up on Thunderbird 5, John is spinning a hologram Earth with all the vigor of a drugged hamster. Poor Space Trash. 

That is... until he picks up an automated distress signal that could turn into a situation. Thank goodness for the high altitude civilian transfer station and its faulty rotor blades. International Rescue is go, fuckyeah!

Just as Scott is getting all excited about no longer being useless... oh never mind, bots on the way. Better luck next time, LOL.

Speaking of being employed, Kayo and Captain Rigby sure have their hands full with their escape prone prisoner. Havoc not only managed to trick her would-be interrogator, she also disables GDF ships and steals mysterious briefcases like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

IT’S HIGH NOON.

Captain Rigby feels confident that the power of numbers will see Havoc back in her cell.

‘Oh but you’ll have to do a better job searching me this time... soldier boy.’

SHOTS FIRED.

Never mind, Captain Rigby. Your former charge blows her way out of the prison, where her personal Uber is waiting to take her away. 

Rigby: ‘Can somebody please get me a plane?’

Have you tried contacting GDF customer service?

GO GET ‘EM KAYO. SLAY, MY QUEEN.

Meanwhile, on Tracy Island, Brains has figured out why the GDF are not being very active: they are caught in a feedback loop that freezes their decision making protocols. Time for the humans to step in!

If you don’t appreciate me at my...

..then you don’t deserve me at my...

Also, Alan’s response to Scott giving them the green light to go on a rescue is all kinds of effing precious.

SPACE NOODLE PUP PFFF *squish*

Kayo has intercepted the Chaos Cruiser. Havoc’s response is the need for speed.

‘They think they can go fast. How cute.’ NYOOOOOM.

Fuse launches some smart and stubborn rockets in Kayo’d direction but you’d have to try a lot harder to take down Thunderbird Shadow. 

Lady Penelope reports in, having a bit of a ‘situation’ of her own.

If that bot gets any closer I’m pretty sure it’s not the dog that’s gonna need rescuing, teehee.

Virgil, Gordon, and Scott, have arrived at the slanted civilian transfer station, ready to intervene.

Virgil: ‘Alright, I’m gonna try and get this thing horizontal again.’ That’s what she s-yeah, too easy, I know. *hangs head in shame*

Scott gets to try out a new toy called the Skypod...

...and Virgil is definitely joining Gordon’s enthusiasm regarding seeing that thing in action.

‘How come Scott gets all the best gear?’ Yep, TOTALLY not jealous.

When Virgil’s efforts to align the platform are failing, it’s Gordon’s turn to head out there. With a little help from his brother, who knows just how to motivate Squid Boy. 

All chase and no play make Fuse a dull boy. That is, until Havoc tells him to give her GDF loot a go. Which just happens to be a GDF rescue bot remote controller. Oh boy.

This guy is the Thunderbirds Are Go equivalent of every gaming lobby’s worst troll/tryhard.

Gordon is their first target, but no one messes with Squid Boy when Nanny!Virgil is around.

Oh, to make matters worse: these things are pretty tough to destroy or reprogram if you don’t have the right tools...

Poor MAX. Talk about most embarrassing moments...

Up in space, it is time for Alan to intervene before the suspended passenger cars are being crushed.

Alan: ‘Lemme see if I can... pull a few strings to help you out.’

Oh no, he didn’t.

Kayo can’t be fooled by an empty bridge. Or a sneaky hatch. Bye bye, controller. Look at all this badassery. We are not worthy.

The moment Virgil realized he should’ve brough his shades along for the ride. Poor lumberjack pup.

Kayo gracefully re-enters Thunderbird Shadow and proceeds to disable the malfunctioning bots, thus ending up saving the day like the badass queen she is.

Bots everywhere stop working on the spot. In some cases this leads to somewhat uncomfortable situations...

Is that an abstract painting up there or has Virgil drunk-painted a Google Maps search? Hmm. *squint*

And finally, the Hood meets up with his Chaos Crew. As expected, Havoc did get something far more precious out of her prison adventure: the Mechanic’s whereabouts. Has that poor fella not been through enough yet? SERIOUSLY.

Anyway - this episode definitely made for a great two-parter, but part two was far more entertaining if you ask me. We’ve got the rest of the season set up and I’m looking forward to both season arc and standalone episodes!