#best 3 star refrigerator

[proctocheck]

Purchase Hitachi's Best 3 Star Refrigerators

The top 3 star refrigerators from Hitachi are the ideal cooling companion. This appliance's wealth of features guarantees top freshness, lots of storage, and energy economy. Your food stays fresher for longer thanks to Hitachi's renowned dependability and cutting-edge technology. Experience the best possible cooling. Please go to the website right now for further details.

[alizayildiz]

Announcement: I don’t know who sent me a request bc it was anonymous but girl if you see this I misse posting too. But my exams are over and I’m back on posting regularly. I have to write a few requests on Wattpad and I’ll upload them on tumblr too!

This one is especially made for you!

Summary: Kenan’s thinks you can’t come to watch his important football game due to both of y’all’s schedules. However you manage to surprise him.

„Miss Yildiz, what a beautiful surprise that you showed up" Coach Montella spoke as he pulled me into a hug.

I don't know since when but it's gotten into a habit that everyone calls me by Kenan's last name. Not that I mind it, I quite enjoy it and to be honest Kenan does too.

Yildiz.

"Well, I try my best to support you guys" I speak as Coach Montella and I walk towards the VIP Lounge of the Allianz Stadium in Berlin.

After the Turkish National Team won 3:1 against Georgia they now play against Czechia. Normally they would play against Portugal but something came up with them and now it's Turkey vs. Czechia.

And normally I would be in New York City right now having a photos shoot for Victoria's Secret. A massive brand with a good name.

But I decided to reschedule the photo shoot. It costed me many nerves and phone calls to reschedule it but in the end I managed to do so.

I wanted to support Kenan through this entire European championship and that didn't work from the beginning on.

Because I missed the opening match against Georgia, he even scored a goal. So now I try my best to make up for it.

Kenan has always been my biggest supporter at everything you do in life. So it's only fair that I'm his biggest supporter too.

As Coach Montella talks me through the details of  today's match I can't get my mind of the fact that Kenan's ex girlfriend Karlotta will be here too.

I absolutely despise that girl not only for what she has done to Kenan but also for that she has done to me.

„So five minutes before the game ends security will walke up with you to the pitch, is that alright ?" Montella speaks looking at me for an answer.

„Absolutely, yes, thank you" I speak smiling at Kenan's coach before the man leaves.

As I walk around the VIP lounge I make myself comfortable, one hour until the game stars and two hours till the game ends.

My outfit was simple but yet elegant, knowing that Kenan prefers if I walk around more elegantly than slutty.

After plugging my phone into the charger I open my Spotify playlist, good thing that these VIP boxes are sound proof.

Not so sound proof when Kenan fucks me in here though...

Opening the refrigerator I pull out a redbull and wash myself some fruits like strawberries and cranberries.

After placing them nicely on a plate I walk to the couch and let myself fall on it.

Gosh, sitting feels good.

I grab my iPad from my handbag and start to work online.

~

As planned I got done with everything I had on my to do list for today.

As I stood up I looked down at the pitch, the Turkish National team singing their national anthem.

Kenan was the tallest player in the team, he was also starting in the first eleven lineup. After finishing singing they positioned them for team pictures.

In the first one Kenan had the post serious face ever, probably because he thinks I'm in New York and not here at his game.

The second picture turned out more motivated, still his smile dropped instantly as the cameras got away from his face.

The Czech people took their time with their national anthem as well as with taking pictures.

While Kenan positioned himself on the pitch the Czech players waved as fans.

Kenan made a quick prayer and so did Arda and Hakan.

All three of them praying for good luck on the match.

During their prayers the commentators of the match called up the line up from both teams. First Czechia then Turkey.

I looked at the big screen and let a a high pitched yell as I saw Kenan's name on it. The stadium loosing it too as soon as they saw him.

Kenan looked up to the VIP box where I was sitting every few minutes, before and during the match.

It's like he knows I'm here. I know that he possibly can't even see me from down there but my gut feeling tells me he does.

Kenan has this gift to spot me whenever I am, he just feels my presence.

As the referee whistled the first half of the game started. Clearly Turkey had more dominance.

In minute 25 Bariș Alper Yilmaz scored.

Two minutes later Kenan scored.

The stadium went loud fans jumped up and down yelling his name. Kenan held up both his hand and then placed on his heart. Dedicating his goal to the Turkish fans.

Clapping both of my hands together I smile down at the football field.

With that Kenan breaks Cristiano Ronaldo his record. What a great success he achieved for his career.

I pull out my phone making photos of the remarkable moment.

Then seven minutes after Kenan scored Arda scores.

3:0 it stands.

Turkish fans are going wild while Czech fans are watching their team loose.

Coach Montella jumps up exited and kisses each of the three guys on their heads, hugging each of them.

Fifteen more minutes pass and then the first half ends. 3:0 for Turkey.

~

"Miss Yildiz, it's time to head to the field" the security guard spoke as he pulled me out of my thoughts.

I sept half break arguing with Karlotta and how she should just leave me and Kenan alone because she and he are in the PAST.

But what if they aren't, and he just lies to me ?

I gather myself following the security guard.

4:0 for Turkey, Hakan scored a goal in the second half which is about to end in exactly five minutes.

As we passed trough different VIP boxes and different hallways I finally was on the pitch.

Behind the barrier but close enough.

And like always it didn't even took Kenan more than thirty seconds to spot me.

He was on the other end of the field and immediately came up running towards me.

The referee had whistled a minute ago so the match was over.

As the cameras focussed on Kenan running towards you fans and commentators applauded at the two of you.

Kenan was not wearing his jersey anymore he pulled it off himself as a form of celebration, so did the rest of the Turkish national team.

Jumping over the barrier he pulled you into his arms giving you thousands of kisses on your forehead.

"Kenan" I chuckled between laughs.

"Did you watch the whole match ?" He asks out of breath.

"Yes Baby, and I'm beyond proud of you" with that Kenan pulls you into a kiss.

I didn't care if he tastes like sweat or even smells like it I just wanted to feels his lips against mine.

The fans going crazy loud even congratulating Kenan on pulling such a beautiful girl like you.

Kenan he let go of you.

"I love you, that's the best surprise you could ever do for me" not even letting me time to respond he crashed his lips on mine again, depending the kiss.

One of his hands had a firm grip on my jaw while his other hand travelled down to my lower back.

Totally worth rescheduling my photoshoot.

Fans were busy taking photos of the two of you and so were you and Kenan.

He's the biggest golden retriever boyfriend ever so he absolutely adores posing for pictures with you.

As he gave you a kiss on your forehead you closed your eyes enjoying the moment.

What a luck that your camera went off in that exact minute. The most wholesome picture ever of the two of you just got made by your phone.

A jealous Karlotta standing in the crowd, eyeing the two of you.

[guess-that-ship]

The contestants for S13: Badly Describe Your Ship are finally here!

64 ships, badly described, are competing for the title of best ship this time. Who will come out on top? Only time will tell. Round 1 will start tomorrow at 9 PM EDT, with each poll lasting a week.

The list is pretty long, so I'll put it under the cut:

(note: any ship with * means the title was modified due to the original title containing identifying details)

He's Just Like Me Fr (derogatory)

Duet

Pandoras Awful little box

02/29

Haunted

Don’t pull the string

Apple Scruffs

Subterfuge

bisexual ex-cops

three and a half horns

Hateful Rivals

omg get a job

Awakened to Death

Gay (Straight) Robots

Ying and Yang

Torment Nexus Furries

Saxophone

well-thought out solution for a problem that is definitely real

35/46

World's chillest guy x serial overthinker

Is it gay to call your boss king?

wheat field under the summer sky

Family first, the world can burn

Forever Means Forever

Lemon Candy

Black and White

Goddess and Man

Royal Wanderings

Cannibalism as a metaphor for eating people

when the man-eating monsters are the least of your problems

Overalls

Pit trap partners

Sunrise Potato

Bouquet #51

Where's the pizza deliver guy?(in a homoerotic relationship)

Snuggle Bugs

They should NOT be at the club

New in Town

ghost fuckers 3

Cogs in the Wheel

world tour*

Mindfulness

Besties Around the Clock

Summer School and Illness

Coworkers With Detriments

weirdly neon

The Blue One and The Red One

Burning Stars

109*

LESBIANS IN LOVE

Heart's garden

Woops, accidental fucking

Jared 19 never learnt how to read

Autism in Space!

Gay Roommates*

Daddy Issues

Gay and gayer

human punching bags

I want to impress you/You already impressed me

Scary & Sweet

Birds of Paradise

Refrigerator Magnet

stop holding grudges challenge (difficulty impossible)

Golden

[fountainpenguin]

"Though we both know one day there'll be blood on the floor... but which one will betray the other more?" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Rated T - 6,900 words

50 Words of Dale and Vicky

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

🌃 City Lights AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

🎲 Randomlists.com's 50-word generator

50 scene snippets about two inseparable BFFs and a string of bad decisions. Predates lemon pit torture.

OR, Dale and Vicky were friends when they were kids.

(First 5 prompts under the cut)

50 Words of Dale and Vicky Friday August 14th, 1992 - Friday April 14th, 1995 Summer of the Pink Star - Spring of the Small Sunflower

1. Balance

Even Dad raised an eyebrow at the redhead who took the mutton bustin' like a piece of sticky tape. The sheep charged through the Dimmsdale Dimmadome's mucky arena, the girl thumping up and down on its back. With every second she clung, the crowd surged higher and higher with excitement- cheering already! Did she sew her sleeves to its wool or something? 6-year-old Dale, safe behind the chute fence, braced his arms a little straighter; craned his neck a little higher.

"Whoa… She's cruisin' like a roadrunner."

One flump of a small body later, the little girl went tumbling through the muck. But she won, of course (and scored the traditional belt buckle emblem plus a set of 4 family tickets to Wave 'N Rage to prove it). The girl cheered into Dad's microphone and jumped up and down. Watching some black-haired woman and a redheaded guy (who must be her two parents) fawn over her, Dale had to wonder… if she had any siblings.

That was wicked…

Her name was Vicky Aingeal. And he was about to be the best friend she never asked for.

2. Cattle

The next time he saw her, it was at the state fair. The scruffy scarlet ponytail hadn't changed. She wolfed down a funnel cake at a table, her parents to either side (and sharing their own). Powdered sugar smeared her lips and fingers. That stuff had to be so greasy… but it looked delicious. Dale, who had already been a Bright Young Man and a Very Well-Behaved Good Boy (semi-interchangeably) for the past 5 minutes while his dad talked about cows and bovine and steer and heifers with Mr. So-'N-So (Cue laughter; they were friends), decided he'd finished standing in the hot sun, bouncing on his toes. He darted his gaze between Vicky and the back of his dad's head. Another 20 seconds flickered by. This time, Dale's stomach even growled. And if that wasn't a sign, what was?

"Dad-"

Dad didn't stop talking, but he did move his hand to Dale's shoulder and gave a quiet squeeze. Not now, said the gesture, so Dale went quiet. He played with the big brim of his hat, staring at Vicky and her funnel cake until she stopped eating and raised her head. Their eyes flicked across each other. Dale jumped and glanced away. Back to the cattle. The Dimmadomes showed fat and healthy cows every year at… the cow-showing event. "Open dairy," Dad called it with his friends (SO awesome; all fancy). Dale never remembered the name except this time of year, but he definitely knew cows.

"Dad," Dale tried again. But dad kept talking, squeezing his arm again, so Dale went quiet for real and softly picked at his nose. The grown-ups talked cows, milk, and hormones… And when that all wrapped up, Doug scooped him up and set him on his hip in one shwoop.

"Now, what's all the fuss, son? What's got your knickknack paddy whacking?"

"Dad, I want a funnel cake."

Doug Dimmadome (owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome) threw an unreadable glance at the table where Vicky and her parents ate. It might've been unreadable because Dale was only 6. "Too risky, kiddo. It's probably got dairy. Now come on, son- You wanna lead the herd with me?"

3. Instrument

"Huh," was the first thing Vicky said when she came across the refrigerated butter sculpture. Seriously? Three giant cows playing in a band? "Pretty weird." It was a huge amount of butter and that was kinda impressive all in all, but… did it serve any purpose? It wouldn't last. Who would want to keep that thing cold for months? Even winter wouldn't get cold enough to not melt it. She looked for a price tag, a card- anything that indicated it might be for sale. Was this thing just donated? Free of charge? I wouldn't want it either, but that feels like a waste. I'm sure SOMEONE would buy it. Some kind of stupid, rich…

She was still there, leaning so close to the clear case, her nose could've touched the nearest instrument, when someone tapped her shoulder. She yelped, hit the case (with her face), and spun around. "Who-? … Oh." That weird kid who'd been staring at her while she ate lunch. When Vicky blinked at him, he pushed the brim of his big hat up with one thumb. He even smiled.

"I saw you at the mutton bustin'."

"The what?"

"You rode the sheep? Most people don't stay on that long."

"Oh, yeah. That sheep was a loser."

The kid blinked, like he actually cared about some random sheep's feelings or something. Honestly, with a name like mutton bustin', whoever was in charge of that thing probably cooked it up and ate it by now. "Well," said the kid, pretty slow on the word. He put out his hand. "I'm Dale… Donovan. And you're Vicky, right?"

"Uh, are you following me?"

4. Sheet

He showed her the chicken tent, the pigs, and the cattle (with their parents trailing behind, of course- Dad had a lot of business to talk and Vicky's parents didn't seem to mind he was there, even if Vicky still gave him weird sideways looks like she couldn't decide just what to make of him). But little by little… those shoulders that looked like tall fenceposts started coming down like a gate sinking underwater.

Then he showed her something super interesting over her shoulder while he tore down the sheet with the name Dimmadome scrawled across it. Look… Is it so wrong to want a friend who likes you without asking about your dad getting rich?

He ignored the confused looks the cows shot him as he bunched the paper in his hand.

5. Resonant

Y'know what? There was something REALLY funny about watching the awkward kid jump about 10 feet in the air (skeleton practically leaping from his skin) when a piercing whistle carried through the air.

"Th-that's my dad," Dale stuttered. "I have to go. Um. 'Bye."

Huh. So, did he not like to add the 'good' in 'good-bye' either? Maybe he's more self-aware of the crushing weight of existence than I thought. Not the worst quality in a friend.

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

[queerdiazs]

wip wednesday

i swear I SWEAR i’m making progress on all these fics but it’s very very slow <3 anyway have some eddie & marisol 34% into their breakup in burning house fic

“That was fun.”  Caught, Eddie turns on his heel. “Marisol,” he says, hot with blistering shame. He forgot his girlfriend was in the other room while he and Buck were arguing—she must’ve heard everything.  She presses her lips together in a tight, sour line. “Did you lie to me?” she asks. “When I asked if you and Buck were ever together?”  He laughs, an ugly noise that burns his throat and leaves a nasty taste on his tongue. He should’ve known—nobody brings out the best or the worst in him quite like Evan Buckley. This time, though, it isn’t only him who’s been burned.  “No,” he answers. “I didn’t. I swear.”  Marisol huffs. “You just want him.”  “Doesn’t matter now,” he says, too much of a coward to raise his head and meet her eyes. She deserves that, at the very least, but whatever bravery he held in his heart fled through the door Buck bolted out of. “He has Natalia.”  “No, he doesn’t,” she says. “You made sure of that tonight.”  Finally, he raises his head and looks at her. Marisol’s face is red with anger and sorrow; her big brown eyes are heavy with tears and the crooked, sardonic smile on her lips wobbles like she’s holding back tears. Eddie wishes he felt something at this moment other than sticky resignation. She deserves remorse; he can’t give it.  “Wow.” She laughs and reaches up quickly to wipe away a few tears. “I didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”  “I’m sorry.”  “You should be,” she insists, nose wrinkled in hurt and fury. “You should—you let me fall in love with you when you knew you were never going to feel the same. I thought we could have a life together, Eddie.”  Eddie averts his eyes, focusing on the photos taped to the refrigerator. There’s seven of them; Buck’s in four. His smile’s like Eddie’s personal north star, always leading him home. It’s a shame Marisol thought the two of them could have a life together when Eddie already has a life with Buck. 

tagged by @jeeyuns, @disasterbuckdiaz, @hippolotamus, and @eddiebabygirldiaz 🫶🏼

tagging @spagheddiediaz, @callmenewbie, @wikiangela, @thewolvesof1998, @theotherbuckley, @try-set-me-on-fire, @devirnis, @daffi-990, @fortheloveofbuddie, @heartshapedvows, @honestlydarkprincess, @ladydorian05, @loserdiaz, and @monsterrae1 if yall wanna share anything

[tunnelofdusk]

mdzs fic: wangxian, dark lan zhan, stalking, professor x student

wc: 1978

O how he loves you, darling boy. O how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back, the covers drawn around you in an act of faith against the night.

—

An air conditioner sputters incoherently as Wei Ying hunches over his laptop and pecks at the faded keyboard. Besides his laptop, a cracked smartphone lights up with a phone call set to speaker mode.

"Is that your air conditioner?" Jiang Yanli says worriedly.

"Yeah," Wei Ying says, "but it's fine. It does that all the time."

"Oh, A-Ying, I really think you should move back home."

Wei Ying laughs. "Jie, I think Yu-ayi has had enough of me! She even gave me a housewarming gift." It's true; an exorbitant metal contraption of a coffee maker takes up most of his kitchen counterspace. It's the nicest gift Yu-ayi has ever gotten him, considering the fact that she usually opts to just gift him money on special occasions. It's hush money, he had always joked even as his siblings would frown.

"Still, we live so close to your college; I don't see why you had to move out," Jiang Yanli frets. Her voice is sweet and Wei Ying smiles down at his laptop.

"It's part of the college experience!"

"Oh, A-Ying, you don't even have a roommate! I just don't think it's very safe for a young boy like you to be alone."

Wei Ying mouths "young boy" to himself and lets out a huff of laughter. "I'm 19, not 12. And jiejie, you're only 22!"

"Hmmm, I thought A-Ying was only 3…"

"A-Ying is only 3 when he wants jiejie's soup!"

Jiang Yanli giggles. "Even if my A-Ying is 3, 19, or 80, he can always have my soup."

Speaking of soup, Wei Ying flicks a glance at his steadily humming refrigerator where frozen containers on Yanli's soup reside. He's not ashamed to admit that that soup has been his primary source of sustenance as he battles past an ever-growing brigade of deadlines, exams, and presentations. He reassures Yanli when he confesses to as much. She continues to fret over him as he finishes off a paper until she finally concludes with an ominous warning that she's going to wrangle a family friend into checking up on him.

"He's a professor of psychology at your college too," she explains.

Apparently Jiang-shushu had connected with him, a professor named Lan Zhan, at a charity gala. And apparently while Wei Ying has been gone out of the house, this Lan Zhan had been visiting the house often enough with Jiang-shushu to even have Yu-ayi charmed by him. Even Jiang Cheng reluctantly admits that he's okay enough when Wei Ying had texted him with a series of question marks ("?????? Who is Lan Zhan????? 囧 Am I being replaced?????").

After collecting all of that data, Wei Ying had immediately formed a mental image of this Lan Zhan: a man as old as Jiang-shushu but with inexplicably white hair and wireframe glasses on a round, wrinkled face. Maybe he had a little scholarly paunch from a life spent inside among books and artificial lights.

When this storied Lan Zhan finally comes to check up on Wei Ying, it is on the day that Wei Ying's air conditioner gives off its last sputter. No amount of "percussive maintenance" had helped repair it and the temperature in Wei Ying's apartment had steadily begun to rise, matching the muggy atmosphere outside. And so on that day, Wei Ying has long since stripped down to a pair of loose shorts. Sprawled across the floor like a salted fish, Wei Ying stares up at the mildewed ceiling of his apartment with a rare quiet of his mind. He counts the cracks in the ceiling like stars in the sky—endless.

Once, Jiang-shushu had tried to rope the whole family into yoga, meditation, and mindfulness, but Wei Ying had ended up falling asleep during the guided meditation. Jiang Cheng had, worryingly enough, looked like he had lost his soul, as if he had come out on the other side of some internal battle all the worse for it. Jiang Yanli had done her best to meditate. And Yu-ayi had somehow ended up angrier as if she had meditated into a pure state of rage.

A crisp double knock on wood resounds through the apartment and knocks Wei Ying out of his musings. With a grumble, Wei Ying shakes off his lethargy to open the door. The bolt chain clinks merrily as his hands fumble. Finally, he swings the door open and pauses in his own doorway, staring at the man before him. The man, who must be Lan Zhan, has sharp features (with only wrinkles near his golden eyes; he must be an eye smiler!) and broad shoulders with a lightly muscled body outlined in a suit. It's so hot that Wei Ying could cook an egg on his floor, and yet this Lan Zhan looks cool and unruffled in his three-piece suit.

"Jiejie didn't say she was sending a handsome laoshi my way," Wei Ying blurts out.

"Nevertheless, your sister sent me to check up on you," Lan Zhan says blandly. The deepness of his voice sends a thrill through Wei Ying; it must be envy.

Wei Ying laughs, short and quivering. He steps back from the doorway and beckons Lan Zhan inside with a fluttering hand. Lan Zhan's eyes flicker down to that hand and a little scoff escapes him. Wei Ying eyes him in return with some indignance. So stiff!

Wei Ying watches as Lan Zhan unbuttons his blazer and settles into Wei Ying's battered sofa (it came with the apartment!). It's a bit ruder than Wei Ying would have expected from a person who consorts with the Jiangs' ilk. Yet, Lan Zhan somehow transforms the sofa into something regal—something worthy of a man like Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan's posture is stiff and the commanding spread of his thighs makes Wei Ying swallow dryly. He looks away.

"Well," he croaks out, "you checked up on me. I'm still alive, haha…"

Lan Zhan stares directly into Wei Ying's eyes, mouth tugging downward as if to say, "You live like this?"

"Where is your shirt?" is all Lan Zhan says. His gaze is heavy, lingering on Wei Ying's torso and transmitting a chill down his spine.

"It's too hot for a shirt," Wei Ying says.

"Indecent," Lan Zhan intones.

Wei Ying rolls his eyes and he watches the way Lan Zhan's fists slightly crumple his suit pants.

"I will tell your sister that you are clearly better off at home," Lan Zhan says stiffly.

Dramatically, Wei Ying drops to his knees in front of Lan Zhan's spread legs. "C'mon, laoshi, there's no need to be so extreme! I'll even put a shirt on if it makes you more comfortable!" he exclaims. He had already endured Jiang Yanli's glossy eyes when he said he would be moving out with no plans of coming back. ("A-Ying wants to be independent," he had concluded babyishly as Jiang Yanli unwillingly snorted an inelegant laugh.)

A darkness eclipses the gold of Lan Zhan's eyes and Wei Ying leans back as Lan Zhan leans down ever so slightly.

"Pathetic," Lan Zhan intones.

囧 囧 囧 囧 囧 flashes in Wei Ying's mind. "Family friend"—well, Wei Ying supposes that he had never truly been considered part of the family, at least not in Yu-ayi's eyes or in society's eyes…

"Lan-laoshi, aren't you being too harsh?" Wei Ying wheedles. "Jiejie just wanted you to check in on me, not bully this poor undergrad! Aren't you a professor too! Hmph, is this how you treat your students?"

"None of my students would behave like this."

"So cruel to A-Ying!"

"…A-Ying?"

Wei Ying laughs awkwardly. Jiang Cheng would never let him live this down if he ever found out…

"A-Ying?"

"You—you can just ignore that, haha…It's just how me and jiejie joke…"

"I am not your jiejie."

And Wei Ying looks up, suddenly confronted with the bulge in front of him. Jiang Cheng always did say that his playfulness would likely be the end of him..

"Haha…right, you're definitely not my jiejie, Lan-laoshi," Wei Ying says as he scrambles to rise from the floor. The apartment has somehow got even more hotter; the summer heat coaxes a flush to rise from his bare torso and to crawl up his neck.

Abruptly, Lan Zhan stands up and Wei Ying loses his hard-won high ground. The scent of sandalwood engulfs Wei Ying and he cannot help his hitching breath as Lan Zhan draws close.

"Your hospitality and home leave much to be desired," Lan Zhan says archly.

And then he just leaves—shouldering past Wei Ying and swinging open the door with an enviable grace that leaves Wei Ying dry-mouthed. Wei Ying stands shirtless and still in the middle of his living room before he scrambles for his phone, digging into his deep pockets.

He texts Jiang Yanli the following messages in quick succession:

囧 jiejie, ignore whatever lan-laoshi says!!!

he is a liar!!!

he is mean!!! 囧

a-ying is innocent!!!

a-ying was unjustly abused!!! slandered!!! 囧

😭😭😭

After a few harrowing minutes, Jiang Yanli texts back:

???

All he said was that he would look after you.

What's wrong?

"Did he just insult me for no reason then?!" Wei Ying mutters to himself. He sends off a final message:

nvm, a-ying is ok :) <3

-

A week after Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan, Wei Ying's professor for Introduction to Abnormal Psychology abruptly withdraws from the university for a family emergency. Wei Ying had never thought that he would have to see Lan-laoshi outside the confines of his apartment since typically, Lan-laoshi only teaches grad classes. And yet—

"Sit down, A-Ying," Lan Zhan says as Wei Ying gapes at the crisply suited figure behind the podium. Although Lan Zhan's features remain static, there is something about the curve of his eyes that reminds Wei Ying of a falcon before a dive. Lan-laoshi must really like teaching…

"You know him?" Nie Huaisang whispers as paper flutters with opening notebooks around the hall.

"Family friend," Wei Ying says as he scrawls the date across notebook paper, already tearing at the perforated line.

—

“Will you tell your brother? Your sister?” Lan Zhan says in a low voice, eyes intent.

Wei Ying shakes his head in a sharp, jerking movement. His hands are unsteady and his fingers desperately grip the balcony railing.

“They have enough to worry about,” Wei Ying eventually says. His eyes skim the view below them—trees reaching into the air, poking through the fog. High up in the mountains, the air is different. It is crisp. He takes a deep breath in and then a deep breath out, banishing his anxiety.

His hands are still unsteady.

“Will you at least report it?” Lan Zhan says.

The warmth of Lan Zhan’s concern heats Wei Ying up. He thinks, I’m not alone. (He never is but he won’t realize this until the end.)

Wei Ying shakes his head again.

“You know the police never do anything about stalkers,” he says bitterly. He thinks about Xiao Xingchen—a short-lived reconnection of Wei Ying and his uncle. Song Lan still looks for Xiao Xingchen, and grief still deadens his face until he can only smile at his daughter.

“Mn.”

“Thank you,” Wei Ying says quietly. His breath mists white in the chill air. “For letting me stay with you…”

Lan Zhan’s mouth curves thinly. “Between you and me, there is no need for 'thank you',” he says. His voice is low and even, and Wei Ying leans into his steadiness.

It is frightening to be the victim of a stalker.

Wei Ying is lucky to have such a good friend.

[chaotictarlos]

tarlos fics by chaotictarlos

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

I know a lot of people are doing a rewatch soon so I thought I'd make a masterlist of my fics by season. These are only fics that go with episodes. If you want to read my other Tarlos fics you can check out my ao3: happygowriting

Season 1

the night we met || TK has finally said yes to being his boyfriend, to trying out the whole relationship thing ago. However, his happiness is short lived when he gets news about someone from his past.

Season 2

Mine || TK flirts with a bartender and Carlos takes him home to show him who’s boss.

Unprofessional || The morning before TK became Carlos’ “friend from work”.

Season 3

I'll be missing you || It’s been months since they’ve seen each other but the holidays have TK feeling lonely and needing Carlos. Even as he tries not to, he craves his touch and company.

back to you || 107 days since he had felt Carlos’s arms wrapped around him and it killed him every day he went without it. He missed the smell of Carlos’ cologne and how it always lingered after they hugged. He missed the feeling of Carlos kissing him awake, the way “good morning” always sounded extra special when it was coming from a sleep Carlos. He missed the way Carlos would make him feel safe and secure after a bad call. The way Carlos would look at him, soft eyes seeing right through him. But most of all he missed how he felt when he was with Carlos and how the world was made of colors again. Because without Carlos everything was gray and TK was just barely hanging on.

the one I want || TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

be okay || Carlos hears that there was a shooting with the 126 involved but doesn’t know TK’s okay

down to clown || TK makes it up to Carlos for bringing home a lizard.

A thousand times yes || TK and Carlos celebrate their engagement.

You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces || An exploration of emotions. The Breakup Era from Carlos' POV

Season 4

where do we go from here? - TK POV Coda || TK finds out Carlos' secret and they talk about it

how did we (i) get here? - Carlos Begins || A look at Carlos, from when he was younger to present. Or, in which I meant to write a Carlos POV Coda and wrote a Carlos begins and so much more.

And in your hands, is all of me - the parts I never let you have - Carlos POV Coda || Carlos has a secret he needs to tell TK, and it's killing him to get it out. Sequel to how did we (i) get here? Carlos POV coda to 4 x 01

All Night Long || TK has some feelings about seeing Carlos in plaid.

Waiting up for you || After the 126 gang goes home, TK waits up for Carlos who never comes home.

do you still want me like i want you? || TK can't get Carlos words out of his head. He can't help but feel maybe this is all a mistake and that Carlos is regretting saying yes to him.

"It's yours" || “TK,” he says softly. The two syllables of his name falling from Carlos’ lips is enough to get TK to move his feet and push into the room. Carlos reaches out and TK immediately grabs onto his hand, clinging to it desperately. When he feels Carlos’ warm skin under his, he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.

Let me be your shoulder || Carlos struggles to let TK help.

beneath your hands, i come apart || TK gets his dessert and shows Carlos how much he loves him.

in the quiet with you || “We had the craziest call tonight,” TK says as he sets the table for dinner, freshly clean from his shower. “What was it about?” Carlos asks where he’s finishing up at the stove, dinner almost ready. “This man came in with his wife on a refrigerator dolly, hanging upside down, claiming that if she’s not upside down then she dies.” TK chuckles slightly, still amazed at the memory, setting out the various sauces and toppings for the tacos that Carlos has made.

you're all i need || TK and Carlos finally get a night to themselves to reconnect and relax after some hectic wedding planning.

these moments with you || A soft moment between TK and Carlos

off duty || Carlos is at home when he hears about an ambulance exploding.

after gala fun || Carlos and TK have some fun after the gala

Dreamy Officer Reyes and his Nincompoop || Carlos and TK have some roleplay fun.

A future without you is no future at all || Carlos and TK talk again later that night about kids and Carlos tells TK more about the fears that he has.

Lost in You || TK comes home making wife jokes and Carlos reminds him who he belongs to.

Pudding Punishment || Carlos faces some fun consequences to stealing the pudding.

after work conversations || Carlos ices TK's face while they talk about their day.

in sickness and in health || All Carlos has ever wanted is to love TK and live a life by his side, now that's threatened by yet another thing that he can't control.

Words left unsaid || Carlos deals with his grief after his father's funeral

Vacation Eyes || TK and Carlos start their honeymoon.

The Loft || TK and Carlos decide that they're going to stay home for their honeymoon instead of going someplace else.

[sweetbottletops]

My Star / My Rock

Aya facing away to make Koga more comfortable and in turn lets herself become completely vulnerable. Peak trope. Right up there with aquarium dates. Perfect.

ch. 71

Koga not a top confirmed.

For real though, Koga wanting Aya to be up on the stage, on her level, vs down with the masses is a look into her view on their relationship.

Everything is reminding me of their refrigerator talk earlier. Aya taking the methodical route, consulting Kanna, counting the texts, spending the whole school year studying Koga... vs Koga making abrupt leaps along the way. Only this time she believed they were working parallel towards that big purchase. Aya let her know she had figured it her out with that note and was going to wait for her to leap.

Aya's botched formalness when nervous and Koga's self deprecation. Neither has it more together than the other in this.

This isn't their shoujo vision/glasses version of each other. They are both visibly nervous, Koga's usual eye bags have eye bags, Aya's hair is on the flat side...

There is no gap anymore.

They pinky held before they held hands. Now they're pressed flush against their backs to sing before they've hugged. Normal stuff.

It's a different relationship than the oshi, stars in her eyes, shoujo vision version Aya started out having. She's thought through the hard parts too. On level with Kanna. But she's made her own choices and she isn't going to wait without communication. Not the hands off adoration one would have towards their oshi.

(Thank goodness it was a note and not origami. I was questioning myself for a moment.)

Way back Koga thought she was so invisible she'd become a one hit wonder in Aya's memory at best, but now Aya's the reason she might have the courage to be onstage and visible to everyone doing the thing she's chosen. But most importantly this is the ultimate blending of their shared playlists. A song written for one person.

We are likely reaching the end of volume 2 very soon and this chapter was a rare direct continuation from the other one. I wonder if we'll continue with her playing the song, or jump to her a reveal of her performing it at a live house in front of everyone. I can't see this ending without a live show of some kind, but maybe that's just me and my infatuation with that early pre-manga image.

I'm not sure if Agu's planning a volume 3 or ending things, but it feels like a real build up either way.

[icallhimjoey]

For your consideration, darling:

Anything with being in the rain with Joey.

Relaxing bathtub moment with Joey.

Dancing in the refrigerator light.

Y/n and Joe are bestfriend, but he secretly has a crush on you since forever, one day y/n's boyfriend impregnants her but he just running from responsibility. And then there is Joe motherfucking Quinn who offers himself to be the father of that child.

Any situation that's so James Bond-ish, ofc y/n as a Bond girl.

sending in 5 ideas so there's a bigger chance of an idea to wake itself up in the back of my head and claw its way to the forefront is a fantastic concept, i love it! i went with number 3! Wordcount: 1.4K

---

Sway With Me

It took maybe thirty seconds for it to register within him. Thirty seconds for Joe to suddenly feel the cold of the room he was in, to pull the duvet up closer, to swipe an arm across an empty mattress that left him confused, because, you'd only just been there, hadn't you? And you'd said something too, Joe knew it. Surely, he hadn't been dreaming, but, if that was the case, then where were you now?

It was still pitch black behind the curtains, not even close to early morning hours and Joe could feel the exhaustion in his bones. His dreams pulled at his consciousness, willing him back into bizarre landscapes where your face hovered somewhere amongst the stars, and you whispered something about pain. Was that what had happened? Had you gotten up because you were in pain?

Joe called out for you, but the strength his body had to muster up to get any sound out faltered, and the sounds escaping Joe were not much more than heavy breaths that articulated the plosives of your name.

Joe shivered, rolled himself up in the covers more, half his face hidden by its soft, quilted fabric and tried his best to drift back to sleep because that's all his body seemed to want from him. But then you took too long, and Joe's limbs were cold which turned into all his mind could focus on. Cold legs, cold arms, cold hands, cold heart. Joe understood it was more emotional than physical; the need to feel you under his touch, to have you in the bed beside him, to listen to your breathing, to feed off of your body heat. You'd always tell him he was like a furnace, but Joe knew it was only that way because you lit the fire that warmed him up from the inside out.

Giving you another minute, because maybe you were just in the bathroom, he opened one squinty eye to the emptiness of the room, blinking into focus to really confirm he was alone. His face crinkled into a puzzled frown as he pulled himself into a sitting position, his arms doing most of the work, his hands sinking into the mattress to push himself up. He stilled himself and focussed on noise, feeling the muscles around his ears tighten, and then he heard it. The faint sound of the refrigerator door rubbers as they pulled away from the cold metal as the door opened.

With a soft groan, Joe swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for a throw blanket down the bottom of it. Getting up, he flung the blanket around his shoulders in a bid to bring some of the warmth that was left in the bed with him to meet you in the kitchen. For all the actions that didn't need sight, Joe kept his eyes closed and only allowed himself small peeks through narrowed eyes to make sure he didn't run into doors or walls.

Upon your sight, Joe's shoulders relaxed on an exhale. There you were, illuminated by the blue refrigerator light, just as he predicted.

Still, upon Joe seeing you, you almost caught him off balance. You were wearing one of Joe's T-shirts, an extra old one he had pictures of himself wearing at 17, and he could feel his heart swell at the memory of your face any time you'd put it on. You'd always take a minute to inhale the fabric of the collar, swearing that no matter how many times it would be washed, Joe's scent would linger and you loved it. You could swim and would happily drown in all things Joe, and you had never hidden that from him.

Joe's T-shirt hung dishevelled off your weary figure as you stood with your back towards Joe, your messy hair all tangled up from losing your scrunchie in your sleep. As he carried heavy footsteps towards you with painful hips that took a minute to adjust to moving his body around, he heard you twist a lid back onto a jar and place it back onto one of the glass shelves.

“You sneaking olives again?” he croaked, voice sounding so fatigued, it almost rang painful.

Before you could answer, Joe’s body curled around yours, his chest firmly pressed against your back, knees finding the backs of yours and his chin placed heavily onto your shoulder. He effectively hid you inside his throw blanket, capturing you in there with him. You grinned at being caught, hand still on the small glass jar, taking it back out to open it again because Joe definitely wanted a few, you knew. Judging by the humming that sounded loud in your ear, you were right.

"Did I wake you?" you whispered as you hand fed Joe a pimiento stuffed olive over your shoulder. "I was very quiet." you smiled, your eyes puffy with sleep still.

"You were keeping me warm," Joe tightened his grip on you when a squinty eye noticed the painkillers and glass of water on the counter next to him before opening his mouth for another little snack. You fished another from the jar, reaching in deep, and when your fingers held it out for him, Joe enclosed his lips around their tips, suckling the brine off them. Joe was cute, and to let him know you thought so, you pushed your temple against whatever part of his head it could reach, making Joe hum in response.

You went through the motions of closing the jar and placing it back into the fridge once again, but before you reached to close the door, you felt Joe move. Slowly swaying from left to right, mostly in his upper body, and it pulled you along with him. You turned your head to catch as much of his face you could, but only managed to see that Joe's eyes were still closed. You turned further and fully twisted in his arms, prompting Joe to let go of you only for a second, holding out his arms and in turn the blanket that he was still holding onto. You snuck your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek into his chest and let Joe hug you back into his blanket, the fleece fabric now almost entirely engulfing you.

"How many painkillers did you take?" Joe barely even whispered, and continued his swaying motions which, in the states you were in, felt hypnotizing, like you were in a trance.

"Two," you spoke into the fabric of Joe's T-shirt, and it was so soft and muffled, you thought Joe couldn't possibly have heard it.

"Head?" but Joe had heard it, and you gave a tiny nod.

For a minute, you stood there, swaying in front of an open kitchen door, your face hidden from it's bright light with no real reason to be there still. Maybe it was the sleep in both your bodies that just focused on the sweet tenderness of the moment instead of the rational thoughts that murmured for you to make your way back to bed and back to sleep. With every back and forth, you feared it'd be the last one, because at this point, Joe was holding you up as much as he was holding you pressed up against him, and it was the safest little cocoon that could make you cry if you thought about it too long.

"Come on," Joe broke the silence, and you felt the cold air of the room reach your back when Joe used an arm to close the refrigerator, leaving you in a darkness your eyes had to get used to again. You took another turn in Joe's arms and let him guide you back to your bedroom, and you realised the painkillers had kicked in already. The headache that had awoken you felt far away from you, and curling back up in bed with Joe felt heavenly.

You'd been sensible and had laid down on your side of the bed on your side, ready to drift off to sleep again, entirely unsure of how much more time the night held for you. But Joe didn't like your sensibility and reached for your arms to pull you over to his side of the bed, making you scoot into him as he did the same.

Arms tangled, legs braided and torso's pressed together, you melted into one. You pressed a soft kiss into the part of Joe in front of your face, your lips landing in between his collarbones. Joe shifted a little, and you felt him kiss you back, pressing plush soft lips on your forehead near your hairline before sleep overtook you all together.

-----

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @dirtyeddietini @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland - add yourself

[kikuism]

mid-year book wrapup!

i've read 24 books so far. i'm reading much slower than i was last year and that's fine with me, i feel like i can actually remember each book i read this year much better.

1) best book i've read so far:

the best books i've read so far are definitely poor things and the library at mount char. for poor things, i totally wasn't expecting to even read very much at all after giving the intro a quick skim....and before i knew it i'd read half the book in one go. it was such a wonderful surprise. i couldn't put it down if i tried. very clever and outrageously funny—biggest surprise of the year for me and i'm very pleased; i'd go so far as to say it's one of my new favorites.

the library at mount char gripped me from start to finish, an andrenaline fueled absurd ride that's tons of fun and which you need to go into blind—reading this deep in the throes of a cold only enhanced the experience. i love a fucked up story!

2) best sequel i've read so far:

i haven't read any sequels so far!

3) new release i haven't read yet but want to:

there are many! here are some—

4) most anticipated release for the second half of the year:

5) biggest disappointment:

ok i am exaggerating a little in regards to the last one but let me explain—

before the coffee gets cold: the biggest disappointment for sure. i wasn't expecting it to be a new fave or anything but i was sure i was going to find this charming and heartbreaking the way so many others did but i just couldn't care for it. i found the execution awkward and clunky which really affected my immersion. it was just so painfully meh.

the secret book of flora lea: didn't go into this with any sort of expectations tbh but considering the subject matter and setting i thought it was going to be at least a little better than it actually was. alas the WW2 englad setting wasn't enough to save this. like it actually makes me mad how stupid and silly the dialogue got toward the end, and don't even talk about the coincidences that wrapped everything up, how convenient *throws refrigerator across the room* at least the descriptions were quite beautiful

the heart's invisible furies: ok now this i admit i went into with some raised expectations bc 1) the goodreads rating, so many people can't be wrong surely? and more importantly 2) this is an epic historical coming of age story set in ireland like hello it was made for me? if anyone was supposed to love this it was me if any book was supposed to be my favorite read of the year it was supposed to be this one but alas. i refuse to repeat the paragraphs i wrote for my goodreads review but my problem was that the balance between comedy and tragedy was handled poorly. any emotional scene was quickly and bizarrely undercut with some poor attempt at humor that made the experience so jarring. and the comedy was so cartoonish that it almost felt satirical but no i was supposed to take all that seriously? and 600 pages of cyril misunderstanding conversations got real tiring after a while it had me gritting and grinding my teeth. this isn't to say there was nothing good about it—i enjoyed the depiction of ireland in the 50s as a complete and complex society filled with all sorts of people just trying to live their lives under the rule of the church. there were one or two moments that made me tear up, and i actually quite enjoyed the first bit with cyril's mother. but ultimately i had way more complaints than praises. this just proves to me that a really good multigenerational story is a feat only few can accomplish (the dutch house ann patchett you will always be famous). sometimes i feel crazy scrolling through all the five star reviews for this book like am i delusional?? did i miss something?? but i stand by my thoughts. and i will say that's a killer title!

6) biggest surprise:

i said it already but poor things! especially since i was adamant on watching the movie blind. but it was available on libby which surprised me a lot bc i expected a huge waiting list at the time, so i borrowed it just for fun and told myself i was just going to read the introduction. it ended up becoming one of my top reads of the year.

and okay fine, the will of the many—i am grudgingly impressed how i couldn't stop reading it, since it's received a stupid amount of hype and it's written by a white man hgkshfhd it was a matter of pride for me

7) favorite new author:

i haven't felt that way about any of the authors i've read so far tbh!

8) newest favorite character:

i don't have one hgkshfj for some reason it's really really really hard for me to have a new favorite Book character. usually what happens is that i like a character and find them engaging (like bella from poor things, or danny and maeve from the dutch house) but to reach Favorite status is a feat that only few books manage. the only series in the last few years that has managed to do that is the locked tomb, what a strong cast of characters wow! it's such a skill to pull off.

9) a book that made me cry:

none of the books i've read so far have made me cry!

10) a book that made me happy:

probably poor things! it's not exactly a feel good cozy book but i had such a a good time with it and i laughed a lot

11) what book(s) do you need to read by the end of the year?

reached the image limit but here are some books i would like to read by the end of the year:

the lion women of tehran

the fifth season

a sorceress comes to call

the night ends with fire

intermezzo

the infernal devices (don't @ me i've been in a situationship with these books since high school....i still haven't read them but everyone says the love triangle in them is off the walls and after watching challengers it made me really want to experience another real love triangle so maybe....maybe this is the year i'll finally pick up clockwork angel)

i tag @schech @matchas @sailermoon @silouvertongues and anyone else who wants to share what they've been reading!

[signor-signor]

The (Presumed) Plot of Season 3

From time to time, I’ve been contemplating the story arc of Season 3 based on the information I gathered. While neither Craig McCracken nor the people who worked with him have the courage to tells us all about it, I was able to put all the pieces together.

Star Force Enforcement Force - a team of space cops who are likely a threat worse than Dominator (who’s relegated to a “delightfully petty” role)

The Star Nomad - a ship that used to carry the hooded refugees in The Secret Planet, was given an “Electric Mayhem” style makeover, and planned to take any remaining refugees back to their home planets

Wander, Sylvia, Hater, and Peepers start teaming up more because they’re aboard the aforementioned Star Nomad (Hater would have to share a room with Wander)

The space ape from the end tag, likely to be Hater’s previous best friend, also planned to have a big role

Borrowing the following formula used for Season 2’s story arc…

The Greater Hater - a new villain shows up and the main four find said villain to be more powerful and more evil than Lord Hater.

Filler episodes - Usual shenanigans, but with some episodes focused on Hater getting back to the top of the villain leaderboard.

The Battle Royale - Wander learns about Dominator’s true gender and tries to get her and Hater together by putting a “ring of invincibility” in a spot where many villains fight over it, and Hater eventually falls head over heels in love with Dominator.

Filler episodes - Some of them have Hater finding often futile ways to show his affections for Dominator, and it becomes apparent that Dominator is destroying planets.

My Fair Hatey - In this musical episode, while Sylvia and Peepers go freeze the core of Dominator’s ship, Hater, having been taught by Wander how to talk to Dominator properly, gains the confidence to ask questions focused entirely on Dominator, only to be turned down, learn the horrible truth about her, and take a vow to save the galaxy so he can conquer it later.

Filler episodes - Mostly finding ways to stop Dominator, on whom Hater no longer has a crush.

The End of the Galaxy - Dominator destroyed every planet but one - a secret planet found by Wander and Sylvia earlier in the season, and the friends they made are gathered there finding a way to stop her. Meanwhile, Hater learns of the planet’s whereabouts and tries to beat Dominator to it. He eventually triumphs and Dominator loses her powers, bots, and ship. It’s the end of the old galaxy, but it’s also the beginning of a new galaxy. Hater has a newfound respect from the galaxy’s residents, but he’s still cuckoo for conquering.

…I came up with a format that ties up all the S3-related elements. What you’ll be seeing are made-up tentpole episode titles.

The Great Journey Home - Without her powers, Dominator is easily captured by a team of space cops (SFEF). Meanwhile, Wander, Sylvia, and their friends give an airship a makeover to take everyone home, and because the Skullship is out of fuel, Hater, Peepers, and the Watchdogs join them on the journey. SFEF, having spotted and picked up a primate in a space suit with newly acquired electrical powers, come along, prompting Hater and Peepers to hide aboard the Star Nomad.

Filler episodes - Many refugees are being dropped off at their planets, and Hater continues to keep himself hidden. One episode might be about the villains on Suburbon V.

The Villain Roundup - With the electric ape in their roster, SFEF become successful at capturing the other villains to turn them good against their will. Wander, who “only present[s] the positive path” and “[doesn’t] force [others] to follow it,” decides to rescue said villains (except Dominator) and let them turn good on their own.

Filler episodes - More refugees are returned and some villains get their chance to shine (e.g. Sourdough being wrapped up in a convenience store refrigerator plotting revenge against Wander). SFEF, of course, keep going about their usual business (like how Dominator went about her business destroying planets).

The Dawn of Hater - The story of how Hater became an electrical skeleton man when he got separated from the space ape and how he recruited Peepers and the Watchdogs for his army. Hater demands SFEF to hand the ape to him, but they won’t do that unless someone takes the ape’s place. At that point, Peepers makes a sacrifice and does so (the start of the Peepers-centric arc). I think that’s when Barry would get his status quo change.

Filler episodes - Even more refugees are returned, Hater warms up to Wander as a friend thanks to the space ape, more villains begin taking the path of righteousness, Peepers becomes uneasy working with SFEF as Dominator keeps figuring out how to escape.

The Star Nomad Legacy (the REAL series finale, maybe the hour long) - Practically all the refugees are returned home. With no other villains to reform by force, SFEF proceed to give Dominator a taste of her own proverbial medicine, but not before Peepers quits working for them and rushes back to Wander, Sylvia, Hater, and the others and tell them what the cops are doing. The Skullship is refueled and, influenced by Wander’s teachings, everyone, including the newly reformed villains, free Dominator from SFEF. SFEF eventually come to understand that taking away someone’s freedom is no way to make them go straight. Although Dominator still has a little ways to go before turning to the good side, Wander is confident that the galaxy is now peaceful, and an extended reprise of “If You Wander Over Yonder” is sung.

Wow, I think I’m beginning to write like a writer for WOY. It probably takes a dedicated fan to come up with content like this. The crew “like[s] the story too much to blow it on a Tumblr post.” I, on the other hand, like the hints and details enough to form the story on Tumblr post. The plot isn’t official, it’s just an educated guess. Let’s see what you fans come up with based on the findings.

By the way, do you notice I have the S3 premiere titled “The Great Journey Home”? The other season premieres have the word ‘great’ in some form.

[proctocheck]

Purchase Best 3 Star Refrigerators from Hitachi

Discover the perfect cooling companion with Hitachi's best 3 star refrigerators. This feature-packed appliance ensures optimal freshness, ample storage, and energy efficiency. With Hitachi's renowned reliability and cutting-edge technology, your food stays fresher for longer. Experience quality cooling at its finest. For more information please visit the website now.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Five Star Friendship Pairing : Platonic Mingyu, Jun, Seokmin, and Joshua x F!Reader TW : none really ; chaotic crack ; cute though ; reader has a cold ; Word Count : 2.1k Request : @jcngh0-hq : so just imagine, being friends with svt and having a cooking battle with the chefs of the group ( i know mingyu is in it but idk the rest fkfhfkf ) maybe just a cute && crack oneshot skshdkdj A/N : The absolute RESEARCH I did in regards to their cooking skills, my computer FBI agent is probably very confused as to why I'm looking this stuff up at 3:30am xD But this idea is so cute, and I'm gonna put my own little spin on it, I hope you don't mind, but it'll definitely be cute and like 99.9% crackish!!

The best part about being friends with a majority of the members of Seventeen was the fact that they brought excitement into your life. Even when you weren’t there to experience it for yourself, you could always live through them, through the stories they told you, through the pictures they sent you, through the videos you got of them on stage in sold out venues. They were living the dream, and you were vicariously living it through them. 

What was even better though was being able to hang out with them whenever you all were able to see each other, and while it wasn’t often, the guys tried their best to make sure to see you at least once a month. This month was no different, except the fact that you had fallen ill, and the monthly movie night that had been scheduled weeks in advance had to be called off. 

“Can’t make it tonight guys, I’m sorry :(( Seems like the stupid cold that’s been going around finally caught me.” You texted into the groupchat, watching as a bunch of circles appeared under your message to show that it had been seen, and then in a matter of seconds, the text bubbles appeared. The only ones who weren’t writing back were Joshua, Jun, Mingyu and Seokmin. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N will be feeling better in no time. I’ll make her some of my homemade stew that I learned from my mom and take it over there. She’ll be ready for the movie by tomorrow night!” Seokmin announced after reading the message, already getting up and going into the kitchen, pulling out a multitude of pots, pans, and bowls, moving around the center island like a tornado as he got everything he needed. 

Mingyu scoffed, his pride evident in the intake of breath as he shoved aside everything that Seokmin had just pulled out. “Absolutely not. We all know she likes my cooking way better anyway. Plus, she needs something that’ll fill her stomach well so she doesn’t have to get up and get anything else to eat for the rest of the day.” He was already shuffling through the refrigerator, lining his arms with a multitude of ingredients that he’d need to make you the meal he had in mind, only for Jun to come up beside him and start pulling out his own ingredients. 

“I’ll make her dumplings. She really liked the dumplings I made for her last time she was here.” He said nonchalantly, as if he were completely oblivious to the bickering that was now going on between the two younger guys. “We need a bigger kitchen.” He mumbled to himself as he eyed the small bit of counter space that was left for him to prepare the food. 

“You all really think she’d be in the mood to eat foods like that? What she needs is a nice soup, maybe chicken noodle soup? I can make that for her. She’ll love it.” Joshua chimed in, making his way around the three men who were trying their best to focus on the individual meals that they were trying their best to make in the limited space they all had, and Joshua knew that he’d have to work in the same conditions, but he was trying his best to think positively, about the way you’d react to seeing the home cooked meal that he was going to bring you. 

The rest of the members all watched with amusement as the four guys zipped around the kitchen, knocking into each other and earning mumbled curses in response. “Today on Four Dudes All Trying To Impress One Girl…” Jeonghan teased as he held up his phone, pretending to record the guys, his not so quiet giggling only becoming louder when the four of them all stopped and sent glares towards the older member. “Let’s get a look at what the guys are cooking today for our sick bestie.” 

“You better not come over here! Don’t breathe on Y/N’s food! It needs to be pure!” Seokmin whined, practically throwing his entire body over the ingredients he had been preparing. “Seriously! You’re going to ruin it!” 

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, moving over to Mingyu who initially seemed unbothered by Jeonghans sudden proximity to the food he was making, but when his eyes raised from the steak he was seasoning they were lowered and dark, cursing him with his pupils. “If any particles of your breath land on this steak, I’m gonna have to start over, and I’ll never cook for you again.” He practically growled as he pulled the cutting board closer to himself, the wooden slab practically hanging over the edge of the counter. 

“Are you sending the video to Y/N?” Jun asked, not even looking up from the dumplings as Jeonghan moved over to him. It took everything for Jeonghan not to laugh at the question since he hadn’t been recording at all, but he nodded his head, panning the camera to Juns face and pretending to zoom in. “Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re in the mood for dumplings, I’m making them for you so you’ll feel better.” The tip of his tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he tried to make every dumpling look perfect. “Okay, thanks Jeonghan… I need to focus now…” 

Jeonghan snorted quietly as he nodded his head, moving over to Joshua who was boiling the broth. “Don’t even.” Joshua said flatly, glaring at Jeonghan out of the corner of his eye. “This is supposed to be a surprise, and if you record it and show her, it won’t be a surprise. Back up.” 

Everyone but Jun was acting like this was life or death, and to them, this was the most important thing they’d ever do, but to Jeonghan and the rest of the guys in the room, this was peak comedy, top notch humor. They were competing, and even though the four of them would swear up and down that this wasn’t a competition at all, the others knew better, and it was obvious from the moment they ran into the kitchen, they all wanted you to think that they were the best. 

“Would you move?!” Seokmin groaned as he tried to move his own pot onto the stove, only to be blocked by Joshua who managed to take up the entire space just to watch the broth boil. “Come on!” He whined, trying to nudge Joshua over with his shoulder only to be pushed back, causing a bit of the stew to spill over the edge of the massive pot, Seokmins loud gasp resonating throughout not only the kitchen, but the rest of the dorm. 

“You guys shouldn’t be fighting around fire…” Jun mumbled as he continued to perfect his dumplings, earning a grunt of agreement from Mingyu. “And you all need to move so I can cook these…” He added, causing Joshua and Seokmin to whip around to look at him in shock. “The dumplings shouldn’t take long, I just need some space.” 

“Do you guys really think she’s gonna eat all of that?” Minghao questioned from the couch, trying to keep the smile of enjoyment from spreading across his face. There was something comical about watching them compete like this. “She’ll probably only be able to eat the first meal that comes to her.” It was like adding fuel to the already raging fire, and his words seemed to flick some sort of switch inside of them, their already rushed movement becoming faster and more chaotic as they started to look at this as not only a competition, but a race on top of it all. 

“You guys can watch the movie without me… Or maybe we can still watch it together if we can screen share?” You texted in the groupchat, still laying in your bed. The only reason you had even got up at all was to grab a water bottle and a cold rag to place over your forehead when you felt yourself beginning to burn up. 

“Nah, we’re saving the movie for when you’re better. And no screen sharing, we need you to get your rest.” Soonyoung texted back, and you watched as an ambush of text agreements flooded your phone screen, causing you to chuckle weakly which quickly turned into a coughing fit. 

“Was that you coughing?” The first text from Mingyu of the day had you slightly sitting up, confused about how he would have even known, and you scrolled up a little in your messages to make sure you hadn’t sent a voice recording by accident. 

“Of course it was her coughing. She’s sick, babo.” The response from Joshua had you laughing for a second before your eyes narrowed at the screen. “Where is Jun?”

“Front door.” Was all Jun had responded with and you were both confused and concerned as you started to kick the blankets from around your legs to get up. “How do I get in without making her get up?” He texted again, and your eyes flew open as you read it over to yourself. Were they talking about you? Were they at your front door? 

“We’re probably setting her phone off so much! How is this supposed to be a surprise when we’re literally typing this all out in the groupchat that she’s in?” Seokmin finally wrote, and you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, getting a head rush from the sudden sitting position after having been laying for a better portion of the day. 

“Just kick the door in?” Mingyu texted, and then another flood of texts poured in, the rest of the guys text screaming at the four of them to not kick the door in, a mixture of undoubtedly baffled curses and exclamations of disbelief added in. 

You rushed out of the bed, hoping to save your door from the idea that Mingyu had, draping your blanket over your shoulders and practically running to the door, throwing it open and seeing the four guys standing there, balancing plates of food in one hand while their other hands were holding their phones. “What are you guys doing?” You asked, looking between all of them. “You’re all gonna get sick if you’re around me.” 

Seokmin shook his head, stepping forward and walking straight into your apartment, placing the large bowl he had been carrying down on the counter. “Don’t worry about it. If we get sick, you can just make us some food and take care of us.” 

Your mouth fell open as the other three men walked in after Seokmin, placing their plates and bowls besides his on the counter. “Uh… I… Well… I mean… Guuuys!!” You whined, following them over to the counter and pulling back the plastic lids and tinfoil that was used to cover the meals that had been prepared. “Did you make all this?” You asked, looking up at them as they proudly nodded. “You didn’t have to do this, I was just gonna have some ramen…” 

Mingyu made an overly dramatic sound of disgust as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you towards the couch. “You need real food to feel better. So just take a seat and I’ll heat up what I made you and then we can watch a movie here.” 

The other three began to bicker disagreements, grabbing their plates and trying to fight their way to the microwave, wanting to get their food in before anyone else. “Take turns.” You groaned, dropping down on the couch and wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, shaking your head as let out a small giggle. “I’ll eat all of it, so it doesn’t matter who heats theirs up first.” 

Joshua let out a loud hmph as he took the opportunity to slip his bowl in the microwave when everyone else was looking in your direction. “I get to sit next to you during the movie though. It’s my turn!” He announced, and that began the next session of bickering, another competition. 

They were the bestest friends that you could have asked for, and as you craned your neck to watch them in the kitchen behind you, a small smile stretched across your lips. Mingyu and Seokmin were holding Joshua back as he tried to get to the living room first, while Jun acted completely oblivious, heating up the dumplings in the microwave and watching them turn on the plate. You were lucky to call them your friends, your best friends. You were lucky to have them in your life. They brought you entertainment, joy, happiness, whether it was through pictures, videos, phone calls, texts, or watching them goof off in your kitchen, bickering about who got to sit next to you. They had managed to make you feel better, and it wasn’t the food that they made or the quickness in which they got it to you, it was their presence alone that had you feeling healthy, rested and renewed. They were what you needed. 

[theawkwardterrier]

Bake On: A Jamie/Claire Wednesday100 story

Week 1: Cake

Jamie gets his signature - Mam's snow cake - into the oven before he takes a moment to truly size up the competition.

There's the usual crop of grannies and older gents and young mum types, a smarmy-looking middle-aged man Jamie instantly dislikes, a willowy girl he smiles at because she's trembling with nerves, a hulking, wildly bearded lad with an accent Jamie can't place (Welsh?), and then, down in the front corner, far from his back row...

He watches her for so long that he has to rely on the technical and showstopper to make up for his overdone cake.

Week 2: Biscuits

There were many things that Claire considered before entering the competition: that her self-taught skills wouldn't hold up, that she didn't have the sorts of stories and traditions needed for the signatures, that she wouldn't be able to balance it all with her usual work schedule.

She hadn't thought that she'd need to remind herself to focus each time her ears detected a Scottish accent at the back of the tent, or that, after her Kingston biscuits came first in the technical, she'd think about his grin and the light touch of his foot against hers the entire drive home.

Week 3: Bread

"The best simit I've had was off splintery carts pushed by old men who would have considered you mad for criticizing the sesame seeds' evenness."

Jamie looks up from messaging Jenny to find Claire beside him. He'd been trying to stop reexamining his near elimination today. Now he smiles without thought.

"Well, Sassenach, I'll be back next week. That's what matters."

"I suppose that's true." She smiles back, cheeks rosy and rounded, before adding, "You're taking the train, aren't you? I can drive you to the station."

It's an easy walk. The choice to ride with her is even easier.

Week 4: Pie

"Will London surgeon Claire's use of herbs finally win her the title of star baker?"

Her held breath becomes a laugh. She sets down the knife she had been using to carve her pastry top, looking over to him leaning on her bench.

"It might, especially if freelance translator Jamie doesn't get back and give her some competition."

He flashes a grin. "Canna have that. My case is done cooling besides."

She watches him walk away, then resumes, her hands steadier now. She wonders whether he could have possibly noticed her doubts from the back. No, she decides. A coincidence.

Week 5: Pastry

He doesn't notice how long they've been talking until Claire shivers in the midnight chill. It seemingly doesn't register with her - she simply crosses her arms and continues speaking about her patients - but he wants to tuck her against himself, offering his warmth.

Her expression is vivid, and he hates cutting her off (although he'd have hated interrupting her while discussing their fellow contestants, London versus Edinburgh, or today's lunchtime sandwiches). Still, he checks his watch, yawns, says, "Christ, it's that late? We'd better get in if we want to be awake for the showstopper," and sees her safely sheltered.

Week 6: Chocolate

It's meltingly hot in the tent, and everyone's rushing about. Claire's behind on her own bake, and so nearly doesn't notice the cheesecake sitting out at the edge of one of the vacant benches, matching the description Jamie gave of the one he was planning while they'd baked together over the phone this week. Her eyes narrow, and she looks around.

Frank looks back, then immediately glances away.

She places Jamie's cake back into the refrigerator. There isn't time for revenge now, but they can plan together later.

In the meantime, beating Frank will be sweet in its own way.

Week 7: Puddings

"Didna ken this would be the week where I'd remember them so much," Jamie says that night, knowing that she hears him despite his quiet words.

He supposes he should feel embarrassed, tearing up over a batch of clootie dumplings, but he remembers Mam helping him tie the cloth, remembers Da ruffling his hair and Willie saying with his mouth full, "They're good, Jamie!"

And Claire doesn't make him feel foolish, simply places her hand over his, saying, "I don't think there's a wrong time to remember the people you love," so he doesn't feel alone there in the dark.

Week 8: Tarts

She's smiling with satisfaction for the first bit of the drive, star baker title finally achieved and her place in the semi-final assured. It's only as she's shaking her head for her own foolishness at wanting to call Jamie to celebrate when she's barely left him (and knows that he had work to take care of on the train ride home besides) that she realizes what this means.

They've both shown their skill and she's confident in their chances of making it through next week. But even so, even if they get into the finale together, their weekends are numbered.

Week 9: Patisserie

The tension in Jamie's shoulders has nothing to do with two days fussing with choux pastry, or the pressure of next week's final, and everything to do with the countable hours he has left with Claire.

They stand talking in the car park long after the others have packed up and left, after he's missed his train, and he wonders if she might feel the same. Regardless, more time with her doesn't seem like a chance he can miss.

At the next pause, he breathes and asks, "Might ye—Will ye come have dinner with me, Claire?" and watches her smile.

Week 10: Final

The contestants carry their showstoppers to the waiting crowd of loved ones. In classic British fashion, the finale fete is chill and rainy; the camera catches Claire carefully keeping her hair out of her icing.

"Christ, I'd forgotten what the damp did to that curlywig o' yers."

Claire elbows him from her spot beneath his arm, although she is laughing along. "Hush and watch. We're about to lose in front of the entire country, after all."

"True enough. Still, I think we won more than that cake stand o' Glenna's," he says.

By the way she kisses him, she agrees.

[catofoldstones]

I really fucking love The Bear, actually. I loved seeing Ritchie peel mushrooms with the head chef of a 3-star Michelin restaurant. Ritchie driving and singing along to love story. Him staging. Actually his whole character arc. Sydney joining work at the beef because Carmy made her the best meal of her life (and he doesn’t even know it). Carmy leaving the best restaurant in the world to work at this rundown one because his brother left him that. Carmy finding out that Michael wanted to franchise the restaurant with him and wanted to keep it a surprise and that’s why he was keeping Carmy at an arm’s distance. Nat joining the restaurant because she loves her brothers. Nat telling Carmy first about her pregnancy and telling him that no one else knows. Carmy, Nat & Syd actually turning it into a franchise. Them sending their cooks to culinary school and Marcus especially to Copenhagen. Syd wanting Tina as her sous and trusting her the most. Carmy not being able to see Syd in distress and building a non-verbal form of communication with her, despite being raised in an uncommunicative and abusive household, growing up feeling unloved. Nat deciding to be a mother and have a baby despite having a mother like Donna (& still choosing to believe in her). Carmy hugging Syd after the fire inspection and getting her a custom monogrammed chef’s coat. Everybody telling Ritchie he looks good after he starts wearing suits and no one making fun of him. Carmy thinking of Syd during his nervous breakdown and that calming him down. Ritchie apologising to Nat and her accepting. Carmy screaming to get Syd when he gets stuck in the refrigerator because he trusts her the most. Ritchie calming down Syd when everything goes haywire at the restaurant and helping her shoulder responsibilities to a smooth run. I am not okay.

[sisterspooky1013]

The Wonder That’s Keeping the Stars Apart, Chapter 2/3

Rated Teen | Read it here on AO3

He doesn’t move in the twenty-plus minutes that Scully is in the bathroom. He stays rooted to the very spot she left him, one hand resting on the countertop for balance as he listens to her muffled sobs through the door.

His mind runs over and over through an endless loop, wondering if he should have told her in another way, should have told her sooner, shouldn’t have told her at all. He considers knocking, considers leaving, considers calling her mother, but he does none of these things. He just stands there, waiting for some indication as to what she needs from him.

Without warning, the door snaps open and she walks out, head bowed. He watches as she returns to the kitchen and picks up her abandoned glass, sucking down the remains in three gulps before she pours another. She isn’t looking at him, but he can see that her eyes are red and swollen, the skin on her cheeks mottled and damp. In solidarity, he picks up his own glass and swallows it down, and she wordlessly refills it.

“I want to know everything,” she says suddenly, her voice hoarse. “Every detail. All of it.”

“Of course,” he says reluctantly, aware of the fact that he won’t be able to answer many, much less all, of her questions. “Can we—do you want to sit down?”

They move to the couch, and over the course of an hour he tells her about the fertility clinic, the multiple Kurt Crawfords, the refrigerator full of vials of ova. He tells her about having them tested, and breaks her heart again when he shares the news that they weren’t viable. He watches her move through grief, anger, despondency and back again. And when he’s told her everything, when she has asked all her questions and he has answered as many of them as he can, she lays her head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling for a very long time.

He watches the side of her face, the proud bridge of her nose and the occasional quiver of her bottom lip as she tries not to start crying again. He thinks of her small and sunken in the hospital, and her final-hour attempts to ensure that he would be okay without her. He wonders how she can still believe in a God who would put her through this, who would save her from one atrocity only to hurl another at her.

To ease his own mind, he imagines her on a sandy beach, her toes peeking out from beneath the shade of a giant umbrella to feel the warmth of the sun. He imagines a life for her where her biggest worries are getting her children into the best schools and finding the right treatments for her patients. He wishes her away even as he shudders at the thought of never knowing her, and so he moves on to imagining a version of himself who would be worthy of being her mate.

“They took them all, didn’t they?” she says, snapping him out of his daydream.

“All of what?” he clarifies, shifting his body to face hers more fully.

“My ova. They didn’t leave any,” she says somberly.

Mulder shakes his head and sighs.

“I don’t know. I wish I did, I’m sorry.”

“It’s a logical assumption,” she continues, “given that the other abductees were being seen for fertility treatment. They would have needed them all to come to the same clinic, otherwise it would have been discovered that the women had no ova—”

Her voice catches and she closes her mouth, pulling in a deep breath through her nose.

“That does seem logical,” he says. After a brief pause he adds, “But I don’t think you should come to any conclusions just yet. You won’t know for sure until you see your doctor.”

Now Scully shakes her head, rolling it from side to side against the back of the couch.

“I’ve known something was wrong, Mulder. I’ve known since my abduction. Things have never been the same…”

Instinctively, her hand settles over her lower belly. Platitudes spring forward in his mind, one after another, and he stuffs them down. The urge to placate her is strong, but his desire to be what she needs is stronger, and she doesn’t need him to deny her her own reality.

Silence stretches on, the sounds of her kitchen clock and unattended car alarm marking the passing of time. Mulder leans forward and retrieves his glass, grimacing as he swallows the last of the amber liquid that has become room temperature. He can admit that he’s grateful to have the edge taken off this entire conversation.

Scully rolls her head to the side and considers him. Her eyes are just slightly glassy, though dry, and he has the thought that she’s actually taking this quite well.

“I’m sorry you had to hold onto that for so long,” she says tenderly, and he’s struck by her show of compassion for him during what is inarguably very much about her. “That must have been difficult.”

Mulder purses his lips and shakes his head.

“I should have told you sooner. I’m just glad I got the chance to tell you. I’m glad you’re still here to hear it,” he says genuinely, and is delighted when a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

He scoots closer to her and lifts his arm, and she burrows into his side with an exhausted sigh. Her head lands on the front of his shoulder, and he presses his nose into her hair and breathes her in deep, flowery shampoo and the musk of oil on her scalp. He rubs her upper arm with his free hand and feels her relax against him.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says, though there is just a hint of a question in his tone.

“Yeah,” she agrees unconfidently.

After a moment she tilts her face up, bringing her nose inches from his cheek. She reaches up and strokes the side of his face, scraping the pads of her fingers over the stubble of his incoming beard with an audible scritch.

“Thank you,” she says, the warmth of her whisky soaked breath tickling his nose, “for being such a good friend to me.”

She’s wrong, so wrong. He’s not a good friend. If not for him, she wouldn’t need a friend to usher her through all these horrible events. If not for him, she’d still have other friends to lean on.

Gently, she tilts his face toward hers, and his heart leaps as he realizes what she’s doing. She pauses briefly to meet his eyes and, apparently seeing no reason not to continue, she arches her neck up and kisses him again.

It’s so much different than the first time. Her lips are salted with tears and her tongue is smoky with liquor when it slides over his. There’s something desperate in her kiss, something needy, as she straightens up and faces him more fully for a better angle. She is sitting, and then kneeling on the cushion beside him, and then she climbs into his lap. He touches her hips, not daring to go any higher or lower, and gets lost in the wet heat of her mouth. He kisses her to soothe her, and to love her, and to apologize for all the ways he’s hurt her. He kisses her because he wants to, because he’s been wanting to for years. It’s only when her hands run down his torso, when her fingers dip under the waist of his jeans, that he realizes that maybe she is kissing him for reasons that she will later regret.

“Hey,” he says urgently, covering her hands with his. “Maybe we should slow down for a minute.”

“I don’t want to slow down,” she mumbles into his mouth, flexing her hips and pressing her hot center against his erection through both their pants.

He suppresses a groan and grabs her hands, pulling them away. Scully sits back and looks at him, perplexed.

“I don’t want to—” he starts, then changes course. “You’re upset, Scully.”

She stares at him for a beat.

“I’m not doing this because I’m upset,” she says, a little angrily.

“You’ve been drinking, and you just got some really heavy news…” he tries again, and she gapes at him before she abruptly stands and moves to sit on the couch beside him, leaving his lap cold and his dick hard. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” he elaborates, shifting to face her. Scully stares at the fireplace, her chest heaving. He sees fresh tears gathering along her lower lashline and he scrambles for the right thing to say. “I care about you, I don’t want you to feel like I took advantage—”

“Stop!” she snaps, lifting both hands and resting her fingertips on her temples, which partially obscures her face. “Just….stop telling me what I need.” He waits in stunned silence as she breathes heavily and stares straight ahead, her eyes hidden behind her hand. He’s startled when she stands and wheels around to look at him, a wounded and furious expression on her face. “If you don’t want this, just say that. I’m a big girl, Mulder, I can handle rejection,” she spits at him, and he opens his mouth to correct her but she cuts him off. “But don’t sit here and tell me it’s for my own good. Don’t convince yourself that you’re doing me some chivalrous favor by deciding what I should and shouldn’t do with my own damn body. I don’t need you to protect me from myself.”

He stares at her, stupidly, and after a beat she turns on her heel and walks into the bedroom, slamming the door loudly behind her.

Tagging @today-in-fic