#but those 2 messy dudes fail every time

[ikaijubluemyself]

I got to make Blackbeard Cupcakes with Samba Schutte and bemoment.us on Zoom. It was a blast. If you love Our Flag Means Death its totally worth it.

[cheezbites]

How COD Characters Would Text

✎: I’m such a slow writer/procrastinator so sorry for the slow posts. But I upload lots of skits and I know y’all love those !!😋

♡Summary: Headcanons of how COD characters would text.

Ghost

• He rarely replies to you or sees your messages, as for how you never see him texting you in the first place. (Or even using his phone for that matter). Every once in a blue moon, you would finally see a highlighted double check mark next to your messages.

• Has a black screen set as his profile picture.

• Leaves you on read and you took it personally, but he addresses your texts in real life since he finds the keyboard too confusing, and he doesn't have time to figure it out.

“I saw your text on the... Uh, ‘What App’, the meeting’s going to be at 2:30pm.”

Valeria

• Strictly sends voice notes; she also finds the keyboard too complicated. If she’s in an environment where she can’t send voice messages then she texts you back painstakingly slow, or she doesn’t bother trying.

• She adored calling you to hear your voice and have genuine conversations instead of staring at a screen and repeatedly tapping away. She also loved hearing about your day and what you were up to.

• Texts you at any time but mostly at night.

König

• Would only text you if you texted him; he has his notifications on for vital and crucial things but most importantly when you send him messages. Also a very messy typer, it would be impossible to not find a single typo.

• Has a cute stray cat he saw on a walk as his profile pic.

• König would frequently discover emojis; although you knew them all like the back of your hands you acted oblivious for him.

“🤪🤪 Did u kno this emoji existed?!”

“miawwww🙀!!! This emoji is very silly, we should use it more often.”

“🙈🙊🙈jajaja ich bin ein schüchterner Affe..”

Price

• Sends you corny facebook memes to start your day. You act as if you hated them and they're obnoxious but deep down you love when he sends them. You know it’s an ‘off day’ for him when you don’t receive one.

• He’s a massive punctuation enthusiast, and he doesn't type slow but not too fast despite his age.

“Good morning, how are you doing today?”

“Please ensure to drink lots of water, it’s going to be very hot later on.”

“Please don’t touch Simon’s sandwich in the fridge. He’s feeling very stubborn today.👍”

• Would make a group chat so the group can bond but half of you guys left over petty arguments and the other half are inactive.

• Him fishing on some boat as his profile picture.

Soap

• Has one of the default options as his profile picture. Or him posing with a rifle.

• Sends you memes you actually laugh at, they’re usually short videos. But then on the other hand, he sends you corny puns that you still find yourself laughing at:

Soap: “Y can’t scientist trust atoms?”

Y/N: “???? why”

Soap: “Cause they make up everything!”

Y/N: “hahahah soo funny dude😐”

And behind the screen you have the biggest shit-eating grin.

• Always double texts you, even if you say you’re busy and can’t take messages. Not even that, he’d triple text you because he can and nothing is stopping him.

• He’s on Do Not Disturb most of the time from all the spam emails he receives, mostly because he carelessly gave out his information to dodgy websites.

Gaz

• Over shares information so casually and then changes the subject, it honestly baffles you at times. To him, there's no such thing as TMI.

“Nearly got run over heading to the shops, but how are you?”

“There was a stabbing at the local chippy shop. What’s for dinner?”

“Just saw a homeless person buy drugs with money someone accidentally dropped. Fun day.”

• Texts you all the time, the moment you send him a message he opens it no matter what time it is or where he’s at.

• Has a selfie as his profile picture.

Alejandro

• Would try-hard being cool so he uses a shit ton of emojis in nearly every text, you can't help but laugh at his failed efforts. And expect lots of typos from him, too.

“Yo😁 any plans todsy🤔🤔??”

“Jow do I turn dowm the brightness.😎☀️”

• He only messages you in the afternoon, in the morning he's too occupied and at night he’s getting that beauty sleep.

• You’re like his tech assistant, always helping him with the simplest of things. This one time, he set his keyboard to another language and was only messaging in Arabic until you could help him set it back to English.

Rudy

• Spams you like it’s super urgent, only to say: “never mind, it’s not important” knowing damn well he had nothing to say in the first place.

“hello?!??!”

“pick up y/n, very important. asap!!!!!”

“are you dead? where are you.”

And once you do get back to him…

“nvm the issue was resolved.”

• Turned off auto capitalisation, but he’s still punctual every now and then. Never sends emojis.

• On that note, whenever you say “ur” he does that know-it-all thing which we all know and hate where he says “You’re*”.

Horangi

• A mix of voice notes and texts, he generally does not text whatsoever even if it’s urgent. If you wanted to reach him you had to do so face-to-face.

• He would leave you on read with no shame and forget what you even sent ten seconds later.

• Is committed to that default image as his profile picture, he knows how to change it but he can't be bothered and he doesn’t even know what to change it to.

Keegan

• When he sends voice notes he acts confused as to why you’d bookmark them. (Fully aware girls simp for his voice - it’s a massive ego boost at times).

• Calls you early in the morning, (really early). As he knows you inevitably snooze your alarm and stay in bed for ‘a few more minutes’ but you stay glued there until the afternoon. It’s a really efficient way of waking you up so you’re not complaining.

Masterlist

[miloscat]

[Review] Shadow the Hedgehog (GCN)

Sonic but with guns.

Sonic Team USA’s final game before returning to Japan was this title starring Sonic’s popular new rival character. It’s a very memetic game due to pushing the series in a slightly edgy direction with a rating one step higher than usual, with such content as Shadow wielding realistic guns and the cast uttering mild curses such as “damn”, “hell”, and “Maria”. But is there more to it than this?

One day Shadow is being a brooding moody dude, thinking about his amnesia, when suddenly aliens invade and start killing everyone. Because Shadow is such a cynical and apathetic cool guy he doesn’t care, until the leader of the alien Black Arms, Black Doom, promises him answers from his lost past. Now that it’s personal Shadow starts shooting people and grabbing Chaos Emeralds to do… something.

This is where the plot gets difficult to describe, as Shadow 05 (which is what I’m calling the game now, in the style of Sonic 06) has a branching structure. Each level has two or three separate objectives that will take you on a different course, giving different cutscenes and motivations for the edgy hedgehog. Edgehog. It all hinges around Shadow’s identity crisis which is a good hook for the character… one they already used in Heroes in fact. Shadow 05 replays and expands on those story beats while adding in a bunch of Sonic Adventure 2 follow-up. And aliens.

Is Shadow an alien? A robot? A failed science experiment? Does he want to protect the world, or destroy it? Ostensibly your actions determine the direction of the story, but the progression of the plot and Shadow’s arc are all over the place and thanks to the disjointed nature of the potential level order. The cutscenes often seem disconnected from what you’ve been doing, and Shadow will just get teleported somewhere so that the next level can start. There are ten different endings which amount to him basically saying one line differently, and because the path to get there is so complex there isn’t a consistent throughline so his motivation can seem to come from nowhere in these moments.

Despite story messiness, the prerendered cutscenes still look maybe the best in the whole series, except for Unleashed obviously. And even the in-engine ones look great too, with competent pacing and staging, and a full cast of professional voice actors for the first time, including Tails, now voiced by an adult! This is also the debut of Mike Pollock as Eggman who persist to this day and does an excellent job.

This step up in professionalism also comes with a technological advance. Heroes still looked like a Dreamcast game in many ways, while Shadow 05—despite being on the same consoles—feels truly next-gen (for the time). You know, whatever that means. Environments are detailed and busy, with pitched battles between the NPC factions playing out as you run through. Your interactions are complex but unusually for a Sonic game they also work reliably; much fewer missed light speed dashes this time around, for example.

Most levels play out in corridors, Shadow racing through them but often being interrupted. It can feel cramped due to narrow paths and debris clutter. The areas being filled with enemies to shoot and crates to break, on top of objectives which can demand slow and methodical hunting of particular objects or enemies, feels at odds with the standard fast-paced Sonic gameplay which the engine is still built around.

It helps that you can easily warp between checkpoints, a mechanic building on Charmy’s warp flowers in Heroes. This means if you miss something it’s trivial to go back and replay sections. Completing runs unlocks new guns in special crates, while really scouring a level can permanently get you keys. Find five keys for a particular level and a special door opens somewhere in the stage. The manual said these can contain warps or shortcuts but the only time I got all five was for the first level which you play through every run… you would think you could unlock a way to skip most of it but no, the door only contained a basic gun and a car, when there was already another car mere metres away. To say I was underwhelmed by this mechanic would be an understatement.

Having different objectives to complete within a level is a fun idea but in practice the action plays out mostly the same regardless, and if you're going for all ten endings like I did, you'll end up playing some levels the exact same way. Not to mention the bosses, which also get repeated across different branches, but worse there's only three final bosses between ten endings, and they're all stinkers. One of them is literally a slot machine on wheels that you have to chase around, it's shocking.

They try to vary things up in the levels which I appreciate. The vehicle sections aren't bad (and mostly optional), there's brief turret shooting bits, and rail shooter sequences that are a million times better than the ones in Sonic Adventure 1. You get decent grind rail parts complete with the JSRF-style tricking of Heroes but with better animation. While the shooting can feel a bit tacked on at times, there's a fair amount of weapon variety. Levels generally have some amount of branching, but two in particular have more sprawling open designs; these sadly don't work very well. In fact they're awful. Central City has you finding bombs within a strict time limit, and The Doom is just a maze of identical grey corridors. I tried to avoid them both after playing them once.

Within the 23 levels there's a good diversity of environments. Many of them are remixed from Adventure 2 and Heroes, which feel like fun callbacks that have been souped up. The Ark station for example feels more epic, whether you're flipping gravity, escorting Maria around in a flashback (even better, she's not in danger and you don't have to protect her), or falling through space as the structure collapses around you. Revisiting the Ark even lets them fill in lore gaps from SA2, like what is going on with the Artificial Chaos (there's also a fleeting line during the true final boss that explains how Shadow survived SA2's ending). The new biomes are even better, like a neon cyberspace, a fleet of ancient ruins animated into flying machines, or the creepy alien bio-base. Cool stuff.

Maybe my favourite feature is how the cast of Sonic characters have been integrated. In each level, Shadow has Black Doom talking in his ear telling him it's fun to do bad things, but also Sonic or one of his furry friends, or even Eggman, accompanies you. Also Espio is there sometimes. They'll tell you off for killing incapacitating the "good guys", act as your tutorialising Omochao figure, and just generally yuck it up with Shadow. Having a different buddy in almost every level who has their own stuff going on, helps you in battles, and lightens the tone a bit is a great use of the cast and a fun dynamic. The only downside is Big is nowhere to be seen. Boo.

When all you know about Shadow 05 is "lol guns" or "there are 326 possible progression permutations" it's easy to treat as a joke. But I didn't expect a "spinoff" to pay off story threads set up in the previous two games (I miss when Sonic games had continuity), or to integrate a huge array of gimmicks and mechanics mostly successfully. Or to be the most solidly built of the pre-Unleashed 3D games. Yes it's got its problems and messes, it's a 3D Sonic game. But Shadow 05 is not a spinoff, it's an essential game to this era. It may be my favourite of this era. And it definitely has the best vocal themes of the pre-Ohtani era in Almost Dead and Waking Up!

[theveryworstthing]

I Live.

Gonna give y’all a little life update copy-pasted from patreon since I’ve been gone for a thousand years. I don't really want to get deep into everything because sharing too many private details about my life/family on the internet feels a little icky even when people are nice but a quick rundown is:

1. My mom was helping my aunt through the legal proceedings of a messy divorce from her abusive ex husband and had to fly to her place like every 2 weeks. During her stays there she sensed something was wrong and after a few doctor's visits we found out that my aunt has early onset dementia. She's being taken care of by family and her shitty ex will never see her again if we have any say so but it's been Rough. She doesn't deserve this shit.

2. Surgery Bonanza! Mom has to get a giant mysterious fatty mass schlorped out of her back and my Grandma Lou' s thyroid gland went insaneo style and blew up into two huge masses that had to be cut out of her throat before they completely cut off her breathing. Then she had a bonus surgery to help with her failing eyesight. On the bright side, there was no cancer found in the weird lumps harvested from my kin.

3. My cat developed a weird lump full of cancer. I spotted a small lump on his right back leg over a month ago and after begging his former vet for an appointment sooner than 2 weeks away we finally got him in. Within seconds she said that it was probably cancer and that if it is he probably won't survive the treatment for it because he's 15 so do I really want to know? Because if I know then maybe I'll want to treat this expensive thing  but if I wanted to let it ride it might be easier I guess? Because letting my weird little son die without trying to save him or give him proper end of life care is cool as long as it's cheaper and I don't have to think about it as much???? This was before any sort of intensive check on him or the tumor was done btw. The little dude was pretty much either a dead man walking or he had some mysterious swelling that time would take care of as far as she was concerned. Either way there was the vibe that she kind of wrote him off.

I ordered tests for him anyway, waited 2 weeks to get inconclusive answers, ordered an x-ray (which should have been done with the other test but whatever), waited a week and a half to learn that yeah, he probably does have cancer maybe and thank god it's not spreading too fast because uh oh! It's been almost a month and that bad boy has been growing this whole time!!!! Also it took weeks for them to bother scheduling any kind of re-check. At this point they say that there's nothing they can do and offer to get me in contact with what seems to be the only animal cancer specialist around. Who's like 2 and a half hours away. And has a crazy wait list. Did I mention that Coup hates being stuck in his carrier and will stress out and cry constantly every time he's forced to travel anywhere? So after reaching out to friends and family I found another much closer vet who could give me a second opinion first and thank god I found that place because not only did they actually judge him by his actual level of health instead of just his age when it comes to treatment (besides the cancer Coup is healthy as an ox, stellar scores in bloodwork and overall cat-ness, vet said that judging from his behavior/usage of the leg that we're probably more concerned about the situation than he is) but they also had a treatment plan rolled out and ready by the end of the visit. The boy is almost done with his chemo injections now and even though the shrinking is slow he's still in great health so we're daring to dream.

Fuck The Haters.

Other things happened but I don't want to talk about those things. The bottom line is that I'm not juggling a hell schedule or crying every day now so I want to get back in the drawing saddle. Thanks again to everyone on patreon who stuck around and basically threw their money in this mysterious pit, Y'all helped pay my bills when I was literally too mentally wrecked to work. And thanks to everyone else who sent me random good vibes, hoped I was okay, said nice things about my art, and were generally pretty cool even though I fled social media. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[hello-nichya-here]

Can you shortly explain why you think that Aang sparing Ozai's life was the right way to 'end the conflict'? Thanks

"Shortly" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Anon, have you met me?

1) IT'S AANG - Aang tried to be friends with Zuko the very second he did something good for him FOR SELFISH REASONS and then refused to let him freeze to death right after the fucker kidnaped him, he was terrified of firebending because he accidentally lightly burned Katara and then vowed to never use it again, didn't hate Teo's dad despite the fact that he was making weapons for the Fire Nation (he kind of had no choice, but still, YIKES), hated going into the Avatar state because he wasn't in control of his own actions, tried to reason with that Earth Kingdom dude who was literally about to bury Katara alive, had a friendly conversation with Iroh and asked his advice even though the guy spent all of book one trying to help Zuko capture him, had no animosity towards the guy that tried to start a fight with him at school, still believed that Sozin had good in him just like everyone despite knowing that the guy killed his past incarnation and commited genocide against his people, befriend Zuko despite him being Ozai's son AND having tried to capture him AND having betrayed him AND sent an assassin after him, and in the Southern Raiders he explictly brought up the fact that he forgave the sandbenders for stealing Appa AND the Fire Nation for the genocide of his people when trying to talk Katara out of killing her mother's murderer. Aang being willing to try to reason with Ozai AND spare his life even after the fucker still insisted on being trash isn't a "cop-out" so the protagonist won't have to kill, it's literally just Aang being Aang.

2) Killing Ozai Would Prove Him (And Sozin) Right - During the big epic battle in the finale, Ozai stated the obvious: he doesn't believe the Air-nomads were worthy of having ever existed because they were "weak" for refusing to kill. Solving the war through pacifism essentially proves him wrong and makes it very clear that the air-nomads, their culture, their values, and their teachings were just as important to the world as all the other nations (including the Fire Nation). Sometimes violence and even taking lives is necessary, but that doesn't mean these are the ONLY solutions to everything ever - even to a literal war.

3) Aang Suffered Enough - Aang was excluded by the other kids when it was revealed that he was the Avatar, lost all of his loved ones except for Appa and Bumi (who were both kidnapped), had to deal with the trauma of knowing he was the last of his people, had to deal with the guilt of having "failed" the world and "allowed" the genocide of his people, the war, and the demise of the dragons to happen (those things were in no way his fault), had to readjust to a living in a completely different world, saw all of his friends nearly die a bunch of times, was kidnapped weekly, almost died a bunch of times, did die once, and had to deal with the pressure of being the last hope for the world even though he is just a deeply traumatized 12-year-old. Do we really need to add "Had to kill a man despite being just a kid AND having been taught/expected to be a pacifist his whole life?" (I know there's no way people didn't die on situations like when he merged with the ocean spirit, but there's a difference between "Accidentally, involuntarely caused someone's death" and "Intentionally killed someone" even if it's in self-defense/justified)

4) Killing Ozai Could Make Him A Martyr - The Fire Nation is far from being a fair society. It is built around the idea of becoming more powerful no matter the cost, and the Fire Lord is basically seen as a God that decides what is right or wrong. Pretty much everyone is collectively surrendering to the natural weakness of every firebender: letting fire consume and destroy everything. Ozai dying in battle against the Avatar of all people CAN be told as a story about a messianic figure punishing a wicked man... but it can also be "The Fire Lord that died for his nation and was so strong only the Avatar could defeat him!" Ozai being just some guy wasting away in prison takes away that image of a man that has absolute power. Which brings us to my last point...

5) Ozai Would Prefer Death Over Losing His Bending - He would especially hate being alive just because the last airbender decided to go for some cruel mercy and let him spend the rest of his life knowing his "failure" of a son "stole" his crown (add in Azula finding happiness and cutting him off from her life and I'll be able to sleep at night)

The energybending thing WAS rushed and the "doubt" of whether Aang really would kill Ozai was dragged on for too long, but Aang sparing his life is the ONLY thing that makes sense, both thematically and considering the characters involved.

[bodyswapmischief]

Andrew sat on the couch looking at his phone. He browsed through his feed, when suddenly he felt his dick become erect. Which wasn't strange for your average 23 year old man.

Andrew looked up and saw his friend Andy on the otherside of the room. So, he just ignored his boner. He couldn't just whip out and jack off infront of his friend. Besides, ignoring his hard 2 inch boner wasn't a hard thing to do.

Moments passed and the pain began to get harder to ignore. Without looking, he tried to get into a comfortable position. That's when he felt something warm and long press against his leg.

It caught him off guard and he jump a bit. The swift movement caused his pants to tightly squeeze his dick and he moaned in pain.

Finally, Andrew looked down and saw what was going on. His heart raced, as he pushed a snake like bulge in his pants going down his leg. With each poke, he moan out in pleasure. Finally, it was confirmed in his mind; his dick had become a thick 8 inch monster.

Instinctively, he placed a pillow over his new giant buldge. He looked over at his friend who seemed oblivious. Without making a scene, he tried ot get up. But, the pant fabric painfully squeezed his dick and balls. He yelp in pain and, quickly, sat back down.

Andy started walking towards Andrew. A smile was on his face. "So, it's finally kicking in." Andy said as he looked at Andrew's crotch. Andy started unzipping his pants.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Andrew shouted. But before he could look away, he saw a familiar sight hanging from his friends body. There was no mistake. Andrew's small dick was now attached to his friends body. "You might as well take off your pants. It not like I haven't seen my own dick before." Andy said.

Then it hit Andrew. The bulge in his pants was similar to the few times he caught Andy with a boner. He sighed to get over the awkwardness and whipped it out. Revealing a dick he only saw the outlines of, through shorts. As it stood erect, he was happy to be free from the pain created from his tight pants.

"What the fuck is going on" Andrew said puzzled.

"I'm giving you my dick for the day. After you told me you haven't had sex because you're embarrassed of your dick size, I knew I had to help out my bro." Andy answered.

"What! This is fucking crazy. You probably should just undo whatever you did..." Andrew begin to worry.

"Dude, relax! Come on. I've been pretending to be you on multiple dating apps and I set up a day of sex for you. Who knows, if this goes well maybe I'll let you borrow my dick again.

"I don't know. This all seems to weird." Andrew said, still questioning everything.

"Stopping doing that! Stop and just enjoy it. Most guys would be thrilled to magically have an 8 in cock placed between their legs. Come on, this will give you the confidence boost I know you need."

"Yeah, I know your right. I'm actually kind of grateful and surprised you care this much... But, I haven't had sex. I don't know how to use this." Andrew said grabbing his new junk.

"Then fuck me bro. You know I've had a crush on you. Now, I can live my fantasy of you fucking me. Think of it as a payment for letting you borrow my dick," Andy saw the hesitation in Andrew's face. "Look, I know your straight. But don't think of it like that. Your using my own dick to fuck me. There's nothing gay about that right!? Besides it'll give you the practice you need for all the sex you'll have today."

Andy bent over to reveal his tight asshole. Andrew's new 8 inch dick got hard. Everything about this situation scream wrong. But, he knew he couldn't let an opportunity like this pass. He wanted to finally expirence sex. He'll just think of banging his buddy as a learning opportunity so, he be able to please all those ladies booked up.

Andrew drew in a deep breath and let his instincts take over. He walked over to Andy. "Can I put it in?" He asked.

"Dude look at me I'm ready to receive. You don't have to ask." Andy said annoyed .

Andrew slowly put his dick in his friends ass. They both gasp in pleasure. Finally all 8 inches squeeze into Andy's ass. "Okay, I'm in. Are you okay does it feel good." Andrew ask.

"Fuck yeah dude. Now pull it out a bit and stick it back in. And that's basically fucking." Andy responded. Slowly Andrew pulled out and and even slower he pushed it back in.

"Hold on dude." Andy sighs. "What! Is something wrong. Am I hurting you." Andrew ask. "No bro, your going so slowly. Pick up the speed."

Andrew start going a bit faster, in and out. Andy started moaning in pleasure. "There you go. Uh... uh... fuck ...yes keep going."

Andrew loved the feeling as his dick sled against the walls of his friends asshole. He started feeling this new power deep in his body grow. He felt more confident with each thrust. And; with that increase in confidence, he was becoming more aggressive. "Fuck yeah, take it bitch." He yelled out as he picked up speed, going faster and faster. He began letting out loud raoring moans.

"Ugh.. uh ...uh... uh slow ....uh down." Andy moaned out. "No bitch, you're fucking taking it." Andrew shouted back. They both scream out in an orgasmic climax as Andrew's dick released a full load of cum into Andy's ass.

Andrew quickly whipped out his dick from Andy's ass, causing Andy to yell out. As soon as all 8 inches were out, Andrew tossed Andy to the side like a used toy. Andrew began staring at himself in the mirror. Flexing and playing with the monster of a dick between his legs.

Andy was left on the bed catching his breath. He looked at Andrew, checking himself out. He was happy to see Andrew enjoying himself. But with each passing second, he felt more insecure of having his naked body exposed on the bed. He look at Andrew and was intimidated by there new cock size differences. He quickly began covering himself up.

At this point Andy knew something was wrong with the spell. He want to recommend swapping their cock sizes back to normal but he was worried how Andrew would respond. He didn't want to make his friend angry.

Before, Andy could stir up the last shreds of confidence left in his body. Andrew started getting dressed. "Thanks bro, I'm gonna fuck the shit out of these bitches. Oh and I don't know how you did this but yeah, I think we both agree that this should be permanent now, don't we."

Andy could clearly feel that both of their personalities were changing. He looked at the new strength Andrew's already strong body had seemed to gain. He seemed more manly and more attractive. Andy was beyond intimidated. In fact his small 2 iches was starting to get hard again.

Andrew stood aggressively staring at Andy, waiting for a response. His python hanging out in the open. Andy was starting to feel afraid of what Andrew would do if he said no. So, Andrew just nodded his head in agreement.

"Good, I liked that answer." Andrew responded. "I think you just earned a round two, after I come back from fucking all these sluts you lined up for me. It feel like this dick still wants to be a part of you . But, it doesn't seem to mind that the only way that going happen now is by being shoved in your ass."

As Andrew left, Andy tried to fight these new feelings that were flooding his mind. He ran to his room to see where the spell went wrong. And, his heart sank as he realized he failed to read the full spell.

Note: If the two affected by the spell commit intercourse their personalities will change depending on the roles they played in said intercorse. Also, as long as the spell last they will be bonded by sexual interest with each other.

Andy realized what he did. By helping Andrew and guiding him what to do. Andy turned Andrew into a dominant, aggressive, sexual beast. He on the other hand had become submissive and caring to Andrew's every need.

Even now with the spell infront of him, he couldn't get himself to recite the reversal spell. It would go against the helpful, submissive, caring attitude towards Andrew that he now felt and acted out during sex with him.

In fact having this spell around was just a threat to Andrew's new happiness. So, Andy tore it up and flushed it down the toilet. The last piece of who he used to be screamed out in horror.

He looked around the apartment. He knew it would be to messy for his Andrew. He need to make sure his Andrew was happy and pleased when he got back home. And, after all that sex he was gonna do, his Andrew was going need some nourishment when he got back home.

As Andy cooked and clean, he could only smile thinking about how happy he was going to make his Andrew. Being a cum dump for him wouldn't be so bad. Yeah, it sucked, that he had to share his Andrew with a constant parade of sluts. But, what would one expect being in a relationship with a man as attractive and manly as his Andrew. And, at the end of they day, Andy knew his man would always come home. After all, his Andrew couldn't resist his nice ass. It was a weird relationship but, it worked for them.

[low-budget-korra]

Why gay Mako is one of TLOK best Headcanon

First of all, he never really liked Asami. He thought she was gorgeous as he should but if you re-watch Book1 you will realize that he never really cared about her, he never had feelings for her. And why? Because he was in love of Korra, every time he seemed to care about Asami like when he said "I'm with Asami" or when he got mad when Korra was suspicious over Hiroshi, it was all about Korra and never Asami. It was all Korra being teasing, jealous, immature over his relationship but never really about Asami.

Mako only went to comfort his girlfriend after Asami realized her father was trash, after Korra tells him to. He also was way more worried about Korra disappearance that he ever was with Asami emotional well-being after all the shit from book 1

But then why he dated Asami? Two reasons

1.Hiroshi was sponsoring the team so i imagine he felt that he should retribute that in a way. Asami was beautiful , rich, and femme(this info is important) so date her wouldn't be that hard. And why he must felt like he should repay her and Hiroshi like that? Boy grew up in the streets, nothing comes for free there.

2. This scene.

In this scene we can see that even though he really has some interest in Korra he doesn't feel like invest in that, even knowing she also shares his interests, because in his words "she is more like a pal" So the fact that Korra ain't femme and don't perform femininity in the way society expects, in the way Asami does, is a real obstacle for him to finally admit his feelings for Korra.

And wtf is that?

Now, this is the interesting part. What If Mako was gay or bi, and didn't accept himself - i also imagine that the streets was ruthless and he had to be all macho and shit- and that's why he feared about what people would thought if he dated some more masculine girl. Let's not forget that he also performs some type of hypermasculinity, something his brother doesn't feel the need to and Bolin is straight, like, really straight. Bolin is the type of cool, sensitive and harmless straight dude that mostly only exist in media. And is funny because, cuz of that people assume he is the gay brother. Careful with those stereotypes fellas. Moving on

Because in our world, when people are in closet and don't except themselves, some of them shares this type of mindset - that comes from the fear of being spotted as gay and all the consequences that comes with it. Let's not also forget that words like "who is the man/woman in the relationship?" And "You like woman/man, so why are you dating a person who behave and dresses like the opposite sex should?" Sadly still exists.

So with that we can say that Mako could have some internalized homophobia and didn't accept himself. And that could go with him being gay or bi. But here is why I think he is gay and not bi: The fail of the relationship with Korra

In theory, after he accepted this part of himself, who feels attracted by the somewhat masculine. The relationship with Korra should just grow stronger and healthier (just like Korrasami when they acknowledge and accept their feelings for each other) but it didn't. And why is that? Because in book2 he didn't care. He was with Korra but he didn't really care about the stuff that was going on with her, he was more focused on other things, on himself and his career

Okay but until that can just be life pulling them a part. But remember when i said that he care way more about Korra disappearance in Book 1 than he ever cared about Asami in that season? When he acted exactly like that again? When people kidnapped Prince Wu. Hella sus

But what about the scene in book 2 where he said we wish him and Korra didn't have broken up? Well, because the end of that relationship would be the second relationship with woman that had fail and a turning point, a no return for him and the relationship he had with both of them and that's scary. And even though it was all messy, i have no doubt that he loved and care for both Korra and Asami, just not in the straight way, you know what i mean.

So my theory and headcanon is: Mako is Gay. He had a difficult time trying to accept this part of himself and did what was expected of him as a man. He slowly started to accept this part of himself to the point where his relationship with Korra wasn't good or usefully anymore, it was going nowhere because it was one sided. So they broke up and of course he was awkward when he was with Asami and Korra because of all that happened in book 1 and 2, and after all the year - the 3 years where, as far as we know, he did nothing but take care of Wu - i think he was fully aware and accept his sexuality and i think Wu may had help cuz c'mon, Wu is all over the place, he is loud about his feminine side and makes no apologies about it. That may have made Mako realized it was okay for him to be gay, and all that.

Ps: But he could be bi tho, i just think it fits more him being gay. Anyway, is just a headcanon

[brinconvenient]

Green Egg and Fam

You know what? I'm just gonna go ahead and do this...

So a few years back, I was talking to another trans woman who is very familiar with the DC Universe and we were trying to figure out who is Actually An Egg, and after a few suggestions back and forth, I galaxy-brained the answer. She heartily agreed and we talked about it a bit: 1. Artsy 2. Serial Monogamist who is a Relationship Disaster (Big "Do I want to Be With Her, or Be Her?" energy) 3. Becomes best friends with every ex-girlfriend 4. Noted Respecter of Women in Very Terrible and Awkward Ways 5. Chronically allergic to self-reflection and introspection, but also addicted to it in much the same way lactose intolerant people talk about how they can't give up cheese. 6. Just a complete and Utter Messy Agent of Chaos. 7. All too willing to adopt Other People's Expectations and internalize them as a Sacred Duty. 8. Just constantly Marked By Tragedy - both external and self-created.

It's Kyle Rayner, kids.

Torchbearer,

Honor Lantern,

Erstwhile Ion/avatar of the power of will

Kyle "I will be the Last of the Green Lanterns and yet keep trying to ressurect this entire Corps of Space Cops that I didn't even know existed until some Blue Dude showed up to give me jewelry and I guess marry me into the Corps? Because I guess that's just my job now and that will become my whole personality" Rayner.

After the conversation, this - the only fanfic I have literally ever written popped out of my head fully formed. It's intended to really be Chapter 1 of Several which are basically conversations between Kyle and one Ex-Girlfriend per chapter as Kyle finally accepts herself and transitions.

Eventually she reveals that the name "Ion" comes from her real name "ImOgeN" because she read Nevada and Was Impacted and she's just that extra.

But, honestly, despite getting started on the Alex chapter ages ago, I never have drawn the energy to go back and finish and/or write more, so I'm just gonna share the first chapter of what I am calling:

"Green Egg and Fam"

Putting the actual content behind the Read More because I've already rambled too long.

“It’s just exhausting, you know? Every few years it seems like I have to pick up the pieces of my life, my memory, my self and figure out who the hell I am! Every time I get a handle on things, someone or something comes along and shakes up the snow globe,y’know? I’ve tried to talk to Diana about it and, like, she’s compassionate and cares and offers sympathy, but most of the time, my whole relationship with her is just one more flake in the globe and I never know who we’re going to be to each other. Somehow, though, you’re always my favorite ex-boyfriend. It’s weird, right?”

Kyle patted Donna’s arm reassuringly. He glanced from Donna’s face to the view over Lake Michigan. There was no more beautiful view of the lakeshore than the roof of the John Hancock Building. He could just about make out the lights of the small shore towns across the lake in Michigan, and he could see the industrial Indiana towns along the round tip of the lake.

“I’m not positive I like that descriptor of our relationship, but I am happy to be some kind of constant for you,” he said with a rueful smile. “Donna, you are one of my dearest friends and I always want to be here for you. I know you didn’t need my help with Dr. Psycho here, but I’m glad I was Earthside to help you out anyway.”

They’d taken the diminutive psychic menace to the Chicago Special Crimes Unit, who had training and facilities for telepaths and telekinetics. They found this perch when Donna said she just needed a little bit to settle down before heading back to the Titans Tower in New York.

“No, I had him just about handled - a Lasso of Persuasion is pretty useful, after all - but I’m glad you swung through, all the same,” Donna said. “I’m glad to have a friend here. Psycho was really messing with my head this time. He kept dredging through my memory, pulling out bits and pieces of lives lived and people lost. He made me relive the loss of Terry and Robert and Jenny, over and over, replayed the tortures of Dark Angel, dragged me through that whole mess with the Titans of Myth, and I’m actually not sure which of any of those actually happened in this reality anymore.”

Donna’s breath was getting ragged and tears were falling down her face, twinkling in the moonlight.

“You told me about Terry and the kids when we were dating, so since I still remember them, they must still have existed and they still loved you and you still got to love them. I’m a little fuzzy on the Titans of Myth, so I can’t be sure about that stuff. But you’re here now and that’s what’s important right now. Just take a sec to enjoy this moment, this view, this night and see how you feel, ok?” he said.

They sat in the quiet, next to each other, watching the waves reflect and distort the moonbeams. Donna’s breathing calmed down and she straightened her back, half a head taller than Kyle even while sitting.

“Thank you, Kyle. I’ll be ok now, I think. I appreciate you listening. You have a good heart. If you’d only learn to actually fight without that ring, you’d make a pretty decent Amazon. Well … if you weren’t a man, of course.”

Kyle coughed and thanked the stars that Donna couldn’t see him blush. Suddenly Kyle felt like there was lava beneath his skin and he couldn’t sit comfortably.

He didn’t want Donna to catch on, so he stifled his squirming and whipped up a quick construct of a miniature green Kyle in an Amazonian uniform, breastplate, Spartan skirt and calf boots. For added effect he made sure to widen his shoulders and used Hal Jordan as a reference for a jaw far more square than Kyle’s real life chin.

“I’m not sure I can pull off the uniform. Guess I’ll stick with green and black for now. Ha!” he said. He hoped it didn't sound as forced as it felt.

“Oh I don’t know. You’ve got great legs, Kyle! Maybe you should start wearing shorts when in uniform. Besides, you had those over-the-knee boots for the longest time. I think you’d be just fine!” Donna said, laughing.

“Give me a hug, Dick just texted me to meet him in Blüdhaven. Take care and fly safe back to Oa!” she said.

After a quick, warm embrace, she turned eastward and flew off over the lake. Kyle watched her fly out of sight. He looked down and saw little Amazon Kyle, slowly spinning in the air. He drew the construct up to eye level and returned the shoulders and jaw back to his more slender and softer reality. It didn’t look that bad actually.

He’d been trying to make Donna smile, and deflect from … something before, so he exaggerated those features to highlight the incongruence, but he didn’t hate this more realistic image.

He continue to finesse the construct’s features. Like most artists, he never really considered a piece finished, he just stopped working on it. He smoothed the musculature, narrowed the shoulders a little further, pulled the hips out just a bit more, and left the waist alone. The ersatz Kyle’s face got softer still, the brow less pronounced, the nose narrower, the chin just a bit more rounded. He watched the chest muscles soften and breasts form to fill out the breastplate better.

Finally, he lengthened the construct’s hair to shoulder length, adding some wave and curls like Donna’s somehow-always-perfect hair.

And there she was. The woman who’d been haunting Kyle’s dreams as long as he could remember. Slowly spinning in the air was a woman who could easily have been Kyle’s sister, wearing Amazonian garb (or at least what he remembered from seeing Donna’s while they were dating so many years ago).

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he started fiddling with the image, and he didn’t know how long he’d spent staring at the final form. Sister. Yeah, right.

With an angry wave he flashed his hand through the construct, dissolving and dispersing the light particles that he’d given form. He hastily looked around the roof to make sure no one had seen him or, specifically, seen the construct. The burning sensation of shame returned instantly and he immediately flew into the sky until the buildings looked like so many light-speckled building blocks.

He took himself through a calming exercise he learned from Kilowog to help him center himself and sling his ring “like he wasn’t a complete Poozer and deserved to wear it.” Kilowog had no appreciation for just how hard it was for other people to feel calm when he was around. Still, Kyle found it helped when the pink giant wasn’t breathing down his neck.

“My will is strong enough to carry the torch for the entire Green Lantern Corps, I can stop these feelings. I can make all of these thoughts go away. I can stop this. I’ve got too much responsibility to keep indulging this … this nonsense” he thought, trying to ignore the sting of the tears fighting their way free to fall down his face, ignore the pain in his heart.

“I don’t want to lose my friends - what would Donna say? Would she think I was a pervert, or making fun of her somehow? I definitely don’t want to lose Hal’s and the guys’ respect. I don’t want to lose my whole life just because I’m some kind of freak. Get it together, Rayner. No one else is feeling sorry for themselves because they don’t fit in.”

He pulled a hand down his face and pointed his right fist with it’s gaudy, shining green ring on the middle finger toward the Milky Way and flew into space. He hoped the cold solitude of the transluminal conduits would help him regain his composure before he faced Guy, Hal, John and Kilowog for the Honor Lantern meeting. For the millionth time, he wished he could just be more like them, have just a sliver of their easy and effortless masculinity. They made it look so simple.

“Bet they don’t spend half their life trying to figure out what is wrong with them,” he thought. He tried so hard not to envy them, but it was really hard sometimes.

Especially nights like tonight where his resolve had failed him yet again and he gave in to his most hidden thoughts. He entered the transluminal conduit between Saturn and Jupiter and closed his eyes.

He traveled faster than light, but it still took time to reach Oa, so he tried to sleep and hoped that his dreams wouldn’t betray him again.

[blackandmatte]

Psst, wanna read some Amillow angst w/ some slight Willumity?

Amity and Luz were pulled out of Willow's mind. The warmth inside Amity's heart felt like fire as she saw Willow sleeping there. Sure, they fixed the issue, but guilt still weighed heavily.

Luz looked around at the messy living room, "What happened here? What did you guys do with Gus?" Luz yelled.

"The kid's fine," Eda huffed walking to her nest, "He's just dead to us." She left the room with King in tow.

"Those... are very mixed messages." Luz noted before turning her attention to the sleeping girl.

Willow stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She yawned and sat up straight trying to remember what just happened.

"Willow!" Luz gasped, "Do you know who I am?" She desperately begged.

"Um, a friendly scarecrow?" She furrowed her brows.

Before the two could react Willow giggled, "Nah, I'm just messin'! I remember everything." She laughed.

"She's back folks!" Luz announced throwing herself into Willow's arms, "My girl's back!" She snuggled into the embrace.

"I'm gonna hug you so hard, you'll never forget me again!" Luz gripped tighter.

Luz looked up to see Amity wave shyly before heading to the door. When she opened the door to leave, it made enough noise to grab Willow's attention.

"Amity," Willow called out, "I remember what you did too!"

The girl cursed herself for not leaving faster. After so much Willow drama, she was ashamed to face the real one. She hesitantly turned around.

"I wanted to say thank you." Willow smiled causing Amity to blush.

"It was my fault anyway." Amity looked at the floor.

"And thank you for fixing it." Willow clasped her hands around Luz's, almost as if silently asking for support.

Luz decided to be there and squeezed her hands reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, Willow." Amity felt her breath hitch sharply.

"I forgive you." Willow inhaled sharply, "I can't say we'll ever be friends again though." She looked off to the side.

"What do you mean?" Luz asked. She wanted her 2 friends to get together, not further apart. "I thought you weren't mad anymore!"

Willow sighed sadly, "I'm not mad. I'm just done." Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes before being forced back down.

"Done?" Luz was in disbelief, "What do you mean done?" She moved to stand in front of Willow.

"I forgive her but we won't be friends. I'm not sure if we ever will be again." She explained.

"Why? You know, if you're doing it out of spite-" Luz was cut off.

"Luz!" Willow looked disappointed, "You should know that I'm not spiteful. Nothing I feel is spite or any type of anger!"

"I'm just... done." She sat down.

"I'm just so sorry." Amity hands trembled while regret filled her lungs, "I know I was a terrible person but I— I can change!" She defended.

"You can. I mean, you have changed since meeting Luz. I just... I just can't bring myself to ever trust you again." She tried to get rid of tears, this time failing.

"Is there something I forgot to do? Something I forgot to apologize for? I know I caused years of suffering and I'm sorry for that! I know I ignored you and-"

"Amity, you don't need to apologize for every single thing. I forgave you for all of it." Willow stopped her. She didn't want every sad thing that ever happened on display.

"Then why?" Amity couldn't focus on what attitude she wanted to maintain but desperation and hurt started to seep through. "Please don't punish me! Do you wanna hit me? Release all the rage from when we were kids, I won't stop you! I won't even fight back!" She held her arms up.

Willow got off the couch and Luz quickly blocked her path.

"Fighting won't solve anything!" Luz begged, holding her friend's arm.

"I know." Willow removed her arm from Luz's grip. "Amity." Willow sniffed, walking to the girl.

Amity braced herself before feeling a setting warmth on her body. Willow was hugging her. The two girls squeezed each other; tears running down their faces freely.

"I'm sorry Amity, but I can't do this to myself." She whispered.

Willow was the first to let go, Amity was very hesitant.

"I can make it up to you!" Amity cried into Willow's cowl. "I-If you'd just let me—"

"Please don't make this harder than it already is." Willow's voice vibrated with a soothing sorrow.

They both heard sniffles from the other side of the room. The two looked up, of course Luz was crying; she always does.

The door suddenly flew open with Gus shutting it behind him frantically. All 3 girls paused, watching him.

"Uh," Luz tried to wipe away tears, "Gus, are you ok?" She attempted to appear normal.

"I, uh—" he breathed heavily.

"Little dude?" The Owl screeched from outside.

"You went with Hooty?" Luz asked dumbfounded.

"It was a good idea at the time!" He felt the door shake.

Gus looked at the mess from earlier, then the two witches standing together. He started to process the tone of the room, seeing semi-dried tears on all their faces.

"I'm sorry, was this a bad time?" He felt the door behind him wobble once again.

"No!" Willow quickly straightened her posture, dusting off her clothes. "No, we were just— I mean, I'm getting ready to go. Did you wanna walk me?" Her voice shook.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah! We can go. I- I'll wait out there!" He sighed and begrudgingly opened the door, subjecting himself to the screeching tube.

"The things I do for love." He mumbled causing the 3 to chuckle slightly.

Willow stepped away from Amity, staring down at her boots.

"Are you really sure about this?" Luz walked over, grabbing both of their shoulders. "Maybe you need some time to think— I know it's still fresh now and—"

"Luz." Amity woefully sighed, "She's sure."

"Like I said, I truly am sorry. I understand your position." Amity balled her fists. "I just—" she felt a sharp prick in her throat. The words felt like they were gonna be vomit.

She suddenly wrapped her arms around the girl's waist, burying her face deep into the crook of her neck. She was met with the scent of fresh flowers. Something Willow always smelled like, even as kids. Her face grew warm and wet from the influx of tears pooling on Willow's clothes.

She felt Willow's arm around her neck and a hand rubbing the back of her head. That only caused Amity to cry harder.

"It feels like I just got you back and I'm losing you again." She sobbed quietly.

Now they both felt Luz joining in and squeezing them. She was sniffling harshly, trying to keep snot in her nose.

"I will always be here. Waiting for you to change your mind." Amity weakly snuggled into Willow's arms.

"Guyyyys!" Luz cried.

Willow nodded, "Goodbye, Amity."

Willow hesitated to break the hug. She kissed Amity's forehead and then Luz's before wiping her tears. She waved and went to the door to walk with Gus. As she closed the door behind her Amity fell to her knees. She sobbed harshly into her hands before Luz kneeled next to her, rubbing her back.

[meetmeinthematinee]

Anything But Red: Serve and Service Part 2  John Wick x Fem!Reader

A/N: A ridiculously long time ago I got a request from @cynic-spirit​ for a pt 2 to Serve and Service. I hope that you enjoy this long, long, long awaited story even though I did change things a teeny bit from your request. 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, a guy too forward on hitting on someone, mild swears? Do I need to warn for fluff? It’s just fluff mostly. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit.” You muttered as you leaned forward and pressed your fingers into your forehead.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again, John?”

“Your super worried but suffer in silence thing.” John said as he gently pulled you back against the chair and worked his fingers into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You relaxed into his touch and let out a sigh.

“I thought that was YOUR thing.”

“Suppose so. It’s your thing too.” John said pointedly.

His hands stilled their soothing motions and you finally relented. 

“The barback just quit. Without notice.”

“Steve?” 

“Mmhmm. I don’t even know what we’re going to do. It's Saturday for fucks sake. I mean--I…”

“You mean you wish you had a really strong guy that takes direction well and can work tonight?” John said as he resumed working each and every knot out of your shoulders. 

“Exactly. Wait. What?”

“I’m saying I’m happy to help out in the restaurant tonight.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

-------------------------------------------

John wiped the bar down. The cloth slid along the polished wood surface in his large hand. It was hard to not get caught up in watching him move. The way his rolled up shirt sleeves allowed you to see his forearms flexing as he lifted the trays of clean glasses. The way his shirt drew tight across his muscled back as he slid the wine glasses into the rack above the bar. The bulge of his biceps as he heaved the beer kegs into place. Your attention was always split twenty different ways when you were in the restaurant but your eyes were always drawn back to him tonight.

In the turnover between the 2nd and 3rd seatings of the night you had time to check in with him out in the alley where he’d asked you out all those years ago. “I think you might be the best barback we’ve ever had.” 

“It’s because I want to impress the boss.”

“Oh--she’s impressed. And grateful. Very grateful.” You said as you worked your hands into his back pockets. 

He shrugged and smiled sheepishly. John never knew what to do with your compliments but that never stopped you from giving them freely. 

He leaned down and kissed you. Capturing your lower lip softly between his teeth and humming lowly before letting you go again.

“Alright. We better get back in there.”

“Yes, chef!” He answered as he held the door open for you.

You made your way through the buzzing dining room, stopping at a few tables to say hello to some familiar faces before you checked in with your front of house staff. This time of the evening was your favourite. The worst of the rush was behind you and on a good night the kitchen had settled into a comfortable rhythm. After the host ran over the state of the bookings with you you migrated over to the bar. 

“How’s working the bar with John?” You asked Janice. You always could trust her judgement -- she’d been less than thrilled with the work ethic of your last barback and had said as much -- but before you even had a chance to let him go he’d quit on you.

“I’m not just saying this because you’re married to him -- I’d be overjoyed if you could find someone who works like he does.” She said with a wide smile. 

“That’s a tall order.” You replied. “But I found you--so I think it’s doable. I’m hoping he’s ok with filling in until I find someone.”

You both looked down to the other end of the bar where John was busily prepping lemons and limes for garnish. 

“Looks like he might be ok with that.” Janice said before she got back to work making the next round of orders for a table. 

You were making your way back to the kitchen when someone got your attention. 

“‘Scuse me -- you’re the chef here right?” A blond middle aged man said, grabbing you by the wrist as you made your way past him at the bar. You steeled yourself for what you knew was coming and smiled politely at him while gently attempting to pull out of his grasp. “Yes, this is my restaurant.” 

“You should let go of her buddy.” John said without looking up from where he was slicing citrus across from the man.

“Oh, yeah sorry.” He said as he dropped his hand from your wrist. 

“He’s a bit rude, hmm? Anyway.” You semi-tuned out the man in front of you and your eyes kept drifting over to John. 

“I wouldn’t say he’s rude. He’s new. A great hire I think.”

“A woman like you doesn’t need to have someone speak on your behalf.”

You smiled cooly. “I don’t think that was his intent.”

“Anyways, I was going to say a gorgeous woman like you should have a night off once in a while. I’d like to help you unwind sometime.”

You inwardly cringed. Thinking and there it is to yourself. This happened every once in a while and you always hated it.

“Usually I save my time off for my husband.”

“I don’t see a ring.” The man answered, his ruddy face showing exactly how many glasses of wine he’d had. 

You glanced again at John and his mouth was drawn into a tight line, one palm planted firmly on the burnished wood of the bar. 

“I’m a chef. I don’t wear it when I’m working. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Aside from you?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, aside from me.”

“Maybe another glass of red.”

“One red.” You called to Janice and she grimaced when she saw who you were pointing at. 

“Enjoy the rest of your night. I have to go.” You said as you walked away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, mouthy.”

“Excuse me?” John said.

“Is she really married? I feel like that’s a line. She seemed really into me.”

“You think so?” 

“Definitely.” The man said before he took a big swig of his wine. 

“Then you should go for it. I mean, I’m new here--I don’t know much about her personal life. Give it a shot.” John said as he ignored the laugh coming from behind him. 

“Why’s she laughing?” The blond asked about Janice who was pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Trying and failing to suppress her laughter.

“Beats me. Women, you know?” John said with a shrug.

“Fair enough.” 

“Do you want me to ask her to come back? Any man would be lucky to be with her. Happy to help a guy out.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

John headed back toward the kitchen. A wicked grin on his face as soon as his back was turned to the semi-drunk louse.

He came back with a folded napkin and set it down on the bar in front of the man. 

“What’s it say?”

“I don’t read things not meant for me.”

“Huh. You know, you’re not a bad guy. Sorry I called you rude earlier.”

“Don’t mention it.” John said as he went back to putting away glasses. 

“Looks like I was right! See ya later!” 

“Later.” 

Janice never brought up what happened to the man for the rest of the night. They were hit by a sudden rush of customers and everyone was too busy to wonder about where that awful man had gone to. 

You came out for one last round of checking in on customers and stopped at the bar when you saw the creepy man from before was gone. “Uh, thank god that guy’s gone. He was way too handsy and way too creepy.” You said to Janice--who suddenly broke into laughter.

Your host came through on their way to leave for the night. 

“Are you talking about that weird blond man?” They asked.

“Yeah -- he was hitting on Chef here right in front of John.”

“Oh. OH! That makes so much sense now. That dude came back and tried to get in again and he was ranting and raving about being tricked and falling into the alleyway. He just seemed really drunk so I refused him entry.”

All eyes turned to John who was quietly wiping down the bar. 

“John?” You asked cautiously.

“Hmm?”

“Did you toss that man into the alley?”

“No. But I did write a note that suggested you’d be waiting for him through the door by the washroom....”

Janice slapped John on the arm. “YOU DIDN’T! I wouldn’t have pegged you as the jealous type.” 

“Listen, I’m not going to let some creep stay here and bother everyone, let alone my wife. I heard the way he was bothering you all night and then he escalated things to getting handsy. I didn’t want there to be a big scene. I just…...helped him out the door a little.”

“Well, next time maybe just let me know when you’re going to help someone out the back door again so I don’t bear the brunt of that messiness, John.” The host said with an exasperated but amused sigh. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Soon it was just you and John. He was straightening up the bar, making sure everything was clean and ready to go for tomorrow. You fished around in your pocket, frantically as always, before your fingers closed on the familiar smooth, cool metal. You carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. 

“Do you want a drink before we head upstairs?” John asked with a gentle grin. His eyes scanned down and caught the way the light glinted off your wedding band. He never tired of seeing that on you. The sign that you were a matched set. 

You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather head upstairs and unwind with something on the couch with you.”

“What do you want to drink?” He asked as he guided you to the exit with his hand on your lower back.

“I think….anything but red.”

------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-------------------------------

Thanks for reading!

Next up I have a Bill & Ted fic on the burner and I have another long, long, long ago request I’m chipping away at. My requests are closed so even though it’s incredibly flattering to be asked to write something I’m not able to take on any right now. 

I’m also forgoing the whole taglist thing now -- not because I don’t love you my ever generous and kind readers--but because they don’t even work half the time. 

Hope that you’re all holding up as ok as you can be during this incredibly bonkers time. 

xoxo

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Three (Bad Ideas) - Part 2/3

Jensen Ackles x Jared Padalecki (pre-J2 x reader)

Word Count: ~3470

Warnings: It’s not super explicit, it doesn’t get much farther than some groping and grinding on-camera, but there’s some decidedly adult content here. 

A/N: The second part of the prequel to Everything. The first part is right over here. All my gratitude to @fangirlxwritesx67​ for the reading and encouragement, as always, and also for the J2 spamming esp. possessive!Jensen. 

“What, like, hot alien threesome?” Jensen laughs. 

“All those different species, with like. Droids. And fuckin’... Wookiees and shit.” Jared tries to make a Wookiee noise but he’s giggling too hard to get it out. In his defense, it’s two in the morning and he’s very drunk. 

“Hutt porn?”

“Hentai with actual tentacles! I mean, come on, you could scroll through category menus for hours.” 

Jensen snorts and shakes his head. “I always thought the green chick was hot.” 

“The twi’lek! Fuck yeah.” 

“You are such a dork,” Jensen laughs. He goes to elbow Jared, but Jared dodges, stumbles, and almost walks into a streetlamp. 

“Dude,” he splutters. “Dude, fuck, can you imagine… holy shit! If somebody liked to be choked, and -” 

“Hate to break it to you, but that barely counts as kinky in this universe,” Jensen says, with a wicked grin. 

Jared’s brain stores that away with a neon sign saying we are going to think about this later! but manages not to short out completely. 

“No, no, you know how Darth Vader -“ Jared stops in the middle of the sidewalk, mimicking the Force-choking gesture, trying to imitate a stern Vader-y expression and failing miserably. He clutches his stomach, wheezing with laughter. 

“Such a dork,” Jensen repeats, trying to hold back his laughter. “Get your ass moving, I’m fuckin’ freezing.” 

Jared falls back into step. “Your fault you’re already dressed for Austin.” 

“Vancouver in April might as well be Hoth,” Jensen says, and Jared cracks up all over again. 

“Who’s the dork now? I’m rubbing off on you!” he crows, and immediately adds, “That’s what she said.” 

Jensen huffs, mock-exasperated, but he sneaks a sideways look at Jared, grinning. 

One second they’re walking side by side, and the next, Jensen’s grabbing him, hand tight on Jared’s wrist as he crowds right into Jared’s space. Jared steps back instinctively, almost stumbles, but Jensen just follows, walking him backward with this wild-eyed intensity on his face. 

Jared’s back hits a cold brick wall. Jensen’s mouth is hot and desperate when it collides with his. 

The kiss is clumsy and messy and perfect, and it’s like Jared’s brain gets stuck in a loop: what, what, what, because they’re kissing, and he’s paralyzed by the shock for a long frozen moment while his stomach lurches and his heart pounds and his head spins. Then Jensen’s teeth catch on his lip, stinging in a way that sends electricity skittering along his synapses, jolting him back into the moment like a fucking AED. 

Jensen’s kissing him like he wants to devour him, sucking and biting like he could eat Jared alive, and Jared’s stomach flips with every ruthless drag of his teeth, every deep lush lick, every new brush of those pillowy lips. Jared pulls him in close and kisses him back with everything he’s got. 

Jensen slides both hands into Jared’s hair, strong fingers twining through the strands and tugging sharply just as his leg shoves up between Jared’s, and Jared lets out this ragged, needy moan, the most ridiculously slutty noise that’s ever escaped his lips. He should be embarrassed by how fucking desperate he sounds, but Jensen’s hips jerk forward, grinding up against him as he hisses out an answering curse. If Jared wasn’t being shoved up against the wall he’d probably fall the fuck down with the way his knees turn to jelly. 

Jensen pulls away. Before Jared’s brain can catch up with his body, he’s swaying forward in an attempt to follow his mouth. 

“Yeah?” Jensen growls. His voice is even deeper than usual, a barely-there rumble, and Jared shivers. 

Jared doesn’t know what the fucking question is, but he manages, “Yes.” 

There’s one more searing kiss, teeth and blistering heat, and then Jensen’s grabbing his wrist and tugging him away from the wall and down the quiet sidewalk. Jared feels like his muscles aren’t quite working right, floppy and uncoordinated as he staggers after Jensen. 

He can still feel the residual heat of Jensen’s body all down his front, and the Vancouver night feels even colder in the wake of all that fiery pressure. His lips are bruised and puffy. His skin is jumping with… god, he doesn’t even know what to call it: disbelief, lust, wonder, need, shock, too fucking much all at once, more than Jared can take. 

He sneaks a quick look at Jensen, and Jensen’s staring right back at him, eyes smoldering as he looks up through his lashes. He flicks his tongue out over his red, swollen lower lip and shoots Jared a little half-smile, and Jared has to stop again to reel Jensen in and kiss that smile until Jensen’s gasping against his mouth. 

“Bed,” Jensen says roughly. “I need to get you in a bed right fucking now.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Bed.” 

“You sure about this?” Jensen asks. He’s staring at Jared’s mouth again. 

Jared’s not sure what to say to that. Instead of admitting that no, he’s not sure about anything, and in fact he’s scared out of his damn mind, and this is probably a bad idea, he just ducks his head to kiss Jensen again.   

*

Jared’s spent so many hours reliving the feel of Jensen’s mouth against his, Jensen’s skin under his hands, Jensen’s low moan and shuddery sigh… there’s a million and one fragments of visceral gut-punch memory embedded in his nerve endings from the night Jared got drugged. 

He’s gotten better at pushing them away. At first it was every time, every time he got too close, every time he smelled Jensen; a feverish flash of sensation would hit him hard and fast. Now the memories mostly come out at night, when he’s alone. They’re still almost too intense to bear. 

It’s surreal, the way those memories pale in comparison to the real thing. 

Jensen’s on top of him, hips twisting, and they’re both hard in their jeans; they haven’t managed to stop touching long enough to get their clothes off, and the drag of too-rough denim-on-denim friction is driving Jared insane. The little growl in the back of Jensen’s throat is the same. The incredible mix of grace and aggression in the way he moves is the same. The way he makes Jared feel is the same: this all-consuming need through his body, fierce and dizzying, like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin. 

He blamed it on the drugs, the electricity and mind-melting heat of the first time. He convinced himself that it was partly in his head, that it was the chemicals: the perfection of it, the way they slotted together like they were made for each other, the way every goddamn touch felt like a revelation. 

He was wrong on all counts. He feels drugged all over again. 

Jensen sits back on his heels abruptly, tugging his shirt over his head. Jared can barely take his eyes off the freckles and the muscles and the fucking hipbones long enough to deal with his own shirt, but it’s worth it when he pulls Jensen down again and feels all that smooth bare skin on his. 

Jared rakes his nails down Jensen’s shoulder blades and then flattens his hands on Jensen’s back to squeeze him closer, arching up, rolling his hips. Jensen pulls back just long enough to inhale, quick and sharp. 

“Sure about this?” Jared asks breathlessly. He’s not sure what he’ll do if Jensen says no, but he feels like he should ask. 

Jensen doesn’t answer. He ducks right back down, sinking his teeth into the spot under Jared’s ear that makes him whine and twitch. 

Jensen’s hand curls around the other side of his neck, thumb fitting right under the line of his jaw and forcing his head back, exposing his throat and leaving him at the mercy of Jensen’s mouth. Jensen’s tongue swirls over the skin he just bit, soothing the sting with a soft tickling lick, before nibbling the same spot again, gentler this time. Jared already feels strung-tight and shaky. 

He can feel how hard Jensen is, stiff heat straining against the front of his jeans, but Jensen’s taking his time. His fingers press harder, holding Jared down, holding him in place, and the pressure of his hand is doing devastating, crazy-making things to Jared’s insides. He nips and sucks and works sensitive patches of skin between his teeth until Jared’s twisting and gasping under him. 

Jared bucks up, frustrated, and grits out, “Please.” 

The way Jensen groans, low and helpless, might be the hottest thing Jared’s ever heard. He grinds down again, so fucking good Jared’s eyes roll back in his head, and then he finally pulls away, fingers sliding up from Jared’s neck to grip his hair instead. 

Jared blinks up at him. Even after all these years, he can’t believe it, sometimes; Jensen’s too beautiful to be real. He’s even more beautiful now, hair sticking up, lips swollen, looking down at Jared with his pupils blown and his cheeks flushed, something like surprise in his eyes. Jared’s too stunned to even wonder what his own face must look like. 

“Tell me what you want,” Jensen whispers. His voice is a barely-there rasp, steely and dark, and it makes Jared want to get on his knees, spread his legs, beg for anything and everything Jensen might choose to do to him. 

“You,” he manages. It’s always been the truth. 

*

Jared makes it less than forty-eight hours before he snaps. He’s in the car before he can think about it, driving the familiar roads to Jensen’s house on autopilot. 

He almost turns right around when he pulls into the driveway. The reality of what he’s doing sets in, and it’s so huge and overwhelming that there’s this rushing in his ears and this wheezing in his lungs and everything else fades away for a moment. He parks and leans forward, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his forehead on them. He tries to breathe. 

Gonna see if I can catch an earlier flight. Just need to think.

Sorry.  

He woke up alone two days ago, and he’s read the note so many times since that it’s like those three sentences are just on a constant loop in the back of his head. He’s not sure he can face Jensen right now; hearing the words in person might just kill him. It was bad enough the first time. 

Don’t worry about it. What are brothers for? 

But at least that time there was an excuse. Jared could write off all his neediness, all his desperation, on drug-induced temporary insanity. 

Jensen must’ve just figured there was nothing wrong with a casual fuck. They were drunk, they were horny, they’d done it before, might as well. But then he’d seen the way Jared looked at him, and he must have finally realized. He panicked; that’s the only explanation Jared can think of. 

Jared knows himself. He knows that everything he feels shows in his expression, clear as fucking day, and if he didn’t have so much practice hiding that particular emotion, Jensen probably would’ve noticed a long time ago. Jared let his guard down that night, drunk, in the heat of the moment. Jensen must’ve seen it plastered all over his face. 

Thing is, though, Jared couldn’t live without his best friend. Doesn’t matter that he’s in love with Jensen. Doesn’t matter how he feels. The simple fact is, even if it’s never anything more than friendship, Jared needs Jensen in his life. If he screwed that up because of his stupid inconvenient feelings, if he really did scare Jensen away this time… well, he can’t think about that. That train of thought leads to cold sweats and sheer panic. 

Jared sits up. He grips the steering wheel, white-knuckled, then releases it, stretching out his fingers as he sighs. He looks guiltily at his hands. He stopped biting his fingernails a long time ago, but right now his nails are gnawed to the quick and his cuticles are edged with scabs. 

It’s eating him up inside. He feels raw and achy and shredded, and he needs to just bite the bullet and hear the words so that he can apologize. He has a whole speech planned out. Then maybe they can just go have a beer or something and it’ll all go back to normal. It has to go back to normal. 

Fuck. 

He grabs his phone and texts before he can think too hard about it: Can we talk? 

Jared sits up and looks at himself in the rearview mirror quickly. His eyes, sunken in bruised purple-blue rings, are puffy and red-rimmed. His hair is a greasy fucking mess, tangled where it peeks out from under his beanie. He looks like absolute shit. Doesn’t matter; Jensen’s seen him at his worst, and his looks aren’t really the point right now. 

His phone buzzes and Jared’s stomach lurches. 

Yes. I’ll come over. 

Jared almost chokes on his borderline-hysterical giggle. He gets out of the car, texting as he walks to the front door. 

Um okay but I’m maybe in your driveway?

He steels himself with a deep breath. The door swings open before he can knock. 

Unlike Jared, Jensen doesn’t usually wear his emotions on his face. It took time and trust before Jared could read the little nuances of his expressions, and he knew, even then, that it was just as much Jensen letting him in as Jared figuring him out. 

Now, though, Jensen might as well be a fucking billboard. He looks terrified and desperate and hopeful, and there’s something tender and familiar shining in his eyes. He looks just like Jared feels. 

Jared had a whole fucking speech planned, and he can’t remember a single word of it. He blinks, paralyzed, before taking one hesitant step forward. 

They both move at once, abrupt and clumsy, crashing into each other so hard it knocks the air from Jared’s lungs, and if he thought Jensen kissed him hungrily before, he’s starving now, teeth clashing and tongue plunging in deep, with this deep, gorgeous whine in the back of his throat when Jared just parts his lips and lets him take what he needs. 

Neither of them bother asking this time. They’re sure. 

*

It’s a bad idea and Jared knows it, even as he hauls Jensen in by the belt loops, but this is the longest he’s gone without kissing Jensen since they got together. He’s pretty sure he’s going to lose his goddamn mind before they make it to the last panel of the day. They’re near the green room in a relatively secluded little nook of the hallway, so at least there’s no danger of fans spotting them, but someone from the cast or Creation staff could walk by. It’s a stupid risk. 

They still haven’t told anybody. They want to try to keep it from the press, at first, for the sake of privacy, and there’s going to be a shitstorm of epic proportions when the fans find out, but they don’t have any illusions about being able to hide it from anybody involved in the show. Still, they wanted to at least tell the important people on their own terms, Singer and Speight and the ones whose opinions actually matter, before it gets out. They’d be assholes to let their friends hear it third-hand through the production gossip grapevine. 

But he’s not thinking about any of that. He’s not thinking at all, really. It’s the first time in over a week that Jared’s had to hold back, to be careful about how and when and where he touches Jensen, and it’s driving him a little bit crazy. 

Jensen’s feeling the same way, if the way he returns the kiss is any indication. He makes a rough, eager sound in the back of his throat and tucks his fingers into Jared’s back pockets, squeezing his ass and rocking up against him, before sliding his hands under the hem of Jared’s shirt to splay over his lower back and pull him closer. Jared runs his hands up Jensen’s arms, gripping his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex under his fingers. 

They break apart just an inch, enough to breathe, both of them panting, noses still brushing. Jared knows they should stop before they get caught, but he can’t bring himself to put any real space between their bodies. 

“Can’t fuckin’ wait to have you to myself again,” Jensen growls, and he pushes up on his tiptoes, lips right against Jared’s ear as he whispers, “Gonna bend you over the desk and make you watch in the mirror. Should see how pretty you look when I get my fingers in you.” 

Jared lets out a frustrated grunt, cock twitching as Jensen nips his earlobe. 

“You’re killing me,” he mutters. 

Jensen kisses him again, gentler this time, but it makes Jared shiver with the strain of holding back. 

Blame Jensen and his mouth for the way Jared’s so lost he doesn’t hear the door handle right across the hallway. He’s not sure what Jensen’s excuse is. 

He practically bites through Jensen’s lip with surprise when he hears the quick little gasp. Jensen stumbles back hurriedly, wiping his mouth, eyes huge in a way that would look comical if Jared didn’t feel icy all over with panic. 

“Oh thank fuck,” he breathes, when he sees who it is. He’s so relieved that it takes him a second to process the expression on her face; she’s bright red, looking down at her feet, flushing and avoiding eye contact instead of giving them shit about it like he would’ve expected. 

“Sorry,” she squeaks. “I’ll just… yeah. Give you some privacy.” 

She’s already bolting when Jared finds his voice again. 

“Wait,” he manages, and she grimaces as she turns to face them again. 

“We haven’t told anyone,” Jensen says. 

“Secret’s safe with me,” she says, with a too-bright smile, before she’s whirling around and rushing down the hall. 

Jared stares after her, puzzled, and more than a little disappointed. 

“What was that about?” he wonders out loud. “If it was anyone else I’d assume homophobic freakout, but…” 

“You really can’t figure out why she might not want to see you kissing someone?” Jensen asks sharply. His lips are swollen, red and shiny and distracting as hell. 

Jared’s heart is still pounding with the leftover adrenaline. He shakes his head, feeling slow and stupid. 

Jensen sighs. “Never mind.” 

“I should talk to her,” Jared says unhappily. “I… I missed her. I didn’t think -” 

Something that looks like hurt flashes through Jensen’s eyes. “We gotta get to the next panel. I’m sure you’ll see her tonight.” 

“Right. You’re right. Okay.” Jared runs his fingers through his hair and tucks it behind his ears. He feels fidgety and strange. 

Jensen grabs him, lightning-fast, and captures his mouth in one last kiss.

“Mine,” he whispers. 

“Yours,” Jared agrees softly. 

*

After the panel, Jared finds her right behind the stage, sitting cross-legged in the corner and rolling a water bottle between her palms, deep in thought. When he drops to the floor and sits next to her, nudging her with one elbow, she smiles at him warmly. There’s no trace of the awkwardness from earlier. The knot of anxiety in Jared’s chest loosens slightly. 

“When?” is all she says. 

“Hooked up again the night we wrapped, pulled our heads out of our asses two days later,” Jared says, grinning down at his lap. “You okay?” 

“Just surprised me, that’s all,” she says, studiously avoiding eye contact again. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird about it. Just felt bad interrupting.” 

“Missed you,” Jared says, honestly, and tilts over to rest his cheek on top of her head. She twists around and gives him a sideways hug, squeezing hard, and Jared feels a weight lifting from his shoulders. 

“Missed you too,” she whispers. “Happy for you.” 

*

She’s so soft under his hands. She melts into him and the kiss stretches like taffy, slow and sweet. He runs his hands up and down her sides, feeling how warm she is, and slides his palms down to cup her ass. 

“This is a bad idea,” she whispers, and then Jensen’s staring back at him, eyes flashing, furious. 

Jared wakes up, wrapped around Jensen under the thick hotel comforter, rock-hard and panting. Guilt twists in his stomach. He feels feverish with it, hot and cold all over. 

Jared lets out a shaky sigh, hips rocking forward ever so slightly; he can’t help himself. Jensen stirs and hums contentedly, squirming back against him. 

Jensen’s all he’s wanted for so fucking long. There’s something wrong with him, thinking about someone else when he has this. 

“Good dream?” Jensen whispers, his voice gravelly with sleep. 

“Yeah.”  

“What was it about?”

“You,” Jared lies. 

.

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Next part HERE. 

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If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message here! 

[allicekitty13]

In 1987 Jasper and Alice meet at the local country club. With all the cards stacked against them can they find their way to happiness? 

Read On Ao3

Read On FFN

                     Let em' say we're crazy, I don't care about that.                  Put your hand in my hand baby, don't ever look back.                              Let the world around us, just fall apart.                       Baby, we can make it if we're heart to heart.

"Don't you have a shift today Whitlock?" The voice rousing Jasper from his sleep was accompanied by a dirty shirt being thrown at his head. The man opened one eye squinting against the bright sunshine currently streaming through his window to look at his best friend Peter leaning against the doorframe of his currently open bedroom door.

"Pete," The twenty-one year old groaned. "The fuck did we do last night?" Jasper remembered they'd decided to go out. He remembered Peter and Charlotte going off to do god knows what. Well, the man had a pretty good idea of what but preferred not to think about it. He definitely remembered the line of shots he'd done with his favorite bartender, Mara. But anything after his seventh Alabama Slammer was either extremely fuzzy or a black spot in his memory entirely. Judging by the way his head was pounding, the sick feeling in his stomach, and the intense craving for a nice greasy burger from McDonald's, it was really no wonder why he struggled to recall the events.

"We got drunk." Peter shrugged. "You know, like we do every Friday. But really man, you gotta get up. It's after noon."

"Haven't you any sympathy for the hungover?" Jasper rolled over as he spoke to lay on his stomach wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep the condition off. Maybe to venture to the living room couch at some point and watch re-runs of sitcoms from the 70's on the sole TV in the apartment.  

"Not when I know you have to be at work in an hour. Rent doesn't pay itself, dude." With that, Peter left his friend alone to the misery of a bad hangover. Daring to open one eye, flinching at the still too bright sun, Jasper spared a glance to the digital radio/alarm clock sitting on the messy bedside table next to him. Although blurry, he could faintly make out the time of 2:13pm. That information caused him to awaken, fully sobering up in an instant.

Peter was right; he did in fact, have a shift soon. In approximately forty-five minutes soon. He would have to skip a shower, something his co-workers wouldn't be too happy about operating in such close quarters without air conditioning. That was nothing compared to the fancy customers he served at the country club who didn't exactly need an excuse to complain. Luckily it was Saturday afternoon, and most of his interactions would involve nothing more than shoving cans of Coors or Tab into coolers for the members to take out to the tennis courts or golf course.

Jasper threw on the polo style shirt he kept around specifically for the stuffy dress code required at the establishment and his cleanest, least beaten up pair of jeans. He quickly brushed his teeth and hopped into his beat-up 75' Gremlin hoping to make the thirty-minute journey in twenty.

Fate, as always, wasn't in the man's favor and he ended up being late. Only by about five minutes, but the glare Angela shot him when he finally arrived to take over the bar caused Jasper to feel as though he'd shown up hours tardier than expected. Once the irritated Angela rushed off to god knows where Jasper busied himself with making sure glasses were clean and everything well stocked for when the night shift arrived in five hours.

Of course, Angela being exceptionally organized and great at her job had, as usual, left very little for Jasper to actually take care of. He often wondered why she spent her time working at the club rather than going to college, but at the end of the day, they weren't really friends. The way Jasper saw it, her personal life was none of his business. If she didn't want to share, he wasn't going to ask. So with everything taken care of, the man figured he might as well venture over to the kitchen for a chat with the equally bored cook Emmett.

Jasper liked the slightly older man; he was a pretty solid dude. Emmett was trying to save up enough money to buy his girlfriend, Rosalie, an engagement ring. So a few months ago picked up a side gig working at the club as a fry cook. Emmett was hard-working, funny, and one of the most genuine people Jasper had ever met. They'd butted heads at first, having vastly different upbringing and thus outlooks on life. Still, over the past few months of working together at the establishment, Jasper found himself looking forward to Saturday shifts exclusively for their engaging talks.

Once he'd double checked to make sure there were no more menial tasks to take care of, Jasper swaggered into the kitchen and plopped upon an empty counter, ignoring the way his friend shook his head at the antics. They had a usual back and forth. Emmett warning the other man that if their boss were to walk in, not only would Jasper receive yet another meaningless warning about cutting his hair. Both parties would be lectured on how inappropriate it was for anyone, let alone an employee, to be acting so unprofessional in the workplace.

Of course, Jasper being reckless had received countless amounts of these warnings. The truth of the matter was that employees were hard to keep. High schoolers could only work so many hours, and most adults willing to take on such a job were quickly worn by the entitled attitude the customer's attracted to such an establishment possessed. Needless to say, turnover rates were high. Management couldn't afford to lose anyone for something like a haircut or unconventional seating choices.

So, as always, Jasper kept his place on the counter, chatting with Emmett about their respective weeks. Rosalie had recently taken a job at The Gap for an excuse to spend more time at the mall that her father couldn't argue with. Emmett had needed to replace yet another part on his frequently failing vehicle setting him back yet again on those engagement ring plans. And Jasper's band had finally scored an opening gig at one of the better-known bars in the area. Sure it wasn't headlining, but for the unknown musician, it was a big deal.

After just short of an hour of conversation, Jasper was in the middle of excitedly going rambling about his dreams of getting away from the California suburbs. Of how he wanted to pack up and head down to Los Angeles and the fabled Sunset Strip, when the bell at the bar counter rang, signaling a customer was waiting for his presence.

What he expected was another irritated woman, upset that she'd had to wait more than thirty seconds for another Tab. Possibly even a man who would chastise him because he paid hundreds of dollars for his families club membership. A fact that the members assumed meant they should somehow receive instant service. What he hadn't anticipated was the absolute goddess waiting patiently at the counter.

She was short, with permed chin-length black hair that she teased her fingers through as she leaned against the counter, talking animatedly with a younger girl. When he stepped behind the bar, she looked over at him with a bright, breathtaking smile. The girl uttered only four words, "Two Coke Classics, please." in her high pitched musical voice.  They were spoken pleasantly, and her attention had been redirected to him entirely, in stark contrast to what he was used to. Typically customers would bark their orders in the mans' general direction before immediately resuming conversing with their companions.

It could have been the breath of fresh air that her attitude brought. Potentially the reason may have been how entirely simple Jasper found it to get lost in her clear blue eyes. In either instance, Jasper must have stood frozen, staring for too long as the girl frowned slightly, her eyes glancing up at the nametag clipped to his shirt collar. "Jasper?" She spoke again, concern lacing her words rather than annoyance.

His name on her lips sparked him into action, "My apologies, ma'am." He finally spoke, reaching into the belly cooler behind him for her order with butterflies beginning to swarm in his stomach.

[writing-fool]

gryffindor!seungcheol

(This is a female version, because it includes Head Boy and Head Girl moments. If you wish for me to make a gender-neutral or male one, please don’t hesitate to ask)

Alright.

This pal, Seungcheolie, is a total Gryffindor

Like I’m talking, poster-child Gryffindor, courageous, extremely kind, a great leader figure. This boi is a Gryffindor seventh year AND Head Boy (because the teachers love him)

Friends with Jeonghan, the Slytherin prefect and ppl used to not understand why because Jeonghan’s a total pranker and Cheolie looks so straight-laced but oH BOI can this kid surprise people

Has snuck into the kitchen to steal biscuits, without consequences because hE’s HeAd bOY

Doesn’t cheat for any tests tho cuz he IS kinda straight-laced

Does everything for his 12 best friends (and kids because he’s SUCH A DAD), especially for Jeonghan because Han’s a lazy bum

Also the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Chaser, cuz he’s not necessarily fast on his broom (hence why he’s not a seeker) but his aim is great

Also practices a ton after class, because once Seungcheol wants something, he works so incredibly hard for it

His pep talks are so, so good

Younger Gryffindors (and kids from other Houses) look up to this guy because he honestly is one of the most reliable students ever and he’ll always solve the problem either with his own power, or with the help of his amazing friends

Once, when Chan was still a little first year, he was bullied by a first year Ravenclaw, and Coups sat the guy down, gave him a good scolding, and for the rest of the year, the dude was surprisingly nice to Chan (turns out, he was kinda jealous of Chan’s flying skills)

His grades are mehh, he passes with the help of Wonwoo and Joshua (and also Mingyu, who surprisingly has a knack for Potions) and usually gets an P if he does fail

He’s not dumb AT ALL, just can’t write long essays for the life of him and honestly doesn’t value grades all that much

He’s somehow very good at Care of Magical Creatures and was good Muggle Studies (a subject which he dropped because he’s a half-blood, and that just doesn’t make sense)

Seungcheol gets to know you in second year, because you’re his partner in Herbology

And while he is a decent student…well, he hasn’t got the patience to deal with,,plants for Merlin’s sake

You, a fellow young Gryffindor with whom Cheolie hasn’t spoken with yet because the gap between your teeth is really frickin adorable and omg you’re actually really good at Herbology and you’re cute but also girls wth

You’re well…a total wild card. Unpredictable, fiery and uncontrollable. But you’re surprisingly gentle when you have to be, so you and Seungcheol quickly become friends after that Herbology class.

Cheol tries out for the Quidditch team that same year, and he gets in immediately

You’re ‘recruited’ in third year when one of the previous Beaters graduates and well…let’s say the Cap back then saw your potential when you broke Anthony Wilson’s nose because he slapped your ass. Sorry not sorry.

Anyways, moving on,,,

You and Seungcheol are pretty close, like not best best friends (because jeez 12 ain’t enough?) but you speak every day and you lean on him a liiiiiiittle too closely whenever you two are in the common room at night

Because he can’t really sleep because of the stress he has sometimes, taking care of his kids and all (doting father y’all) and you join him sometimes

Over the years you’ve grown into a comfortable rhythm of lulling each other to sleep in comfortable silence in the common room

The first time you woke up in each other’s arms was….well…//blush//

Because he is your friend but he is also really handsome and his lips are so close and he’s cute when he’s sleeping no don’t touch his hair and oh dear why are you still lying in his arms get out get OUT

But you get used to the limbo of flirting and touching casually to the point where you instinctively cuddle up to him by the fireplace at night and he strokes your hair

You accidentally did it around his and your friends once because…he might’ve been the only one you pay attention to in the room ooOOH do you have a crush

So now the school ships it because Vernon, bless his heart, can’t keep his mouth shut

And you like him, you realise that in like, fifth year you smart cookie, awww but you don’t want to lose the comfort of having him around and hugging you like his

And Cheolie’s got a big, fat crush on you too

Because he’s been watching you on the sidelines, growing up into this really wonderful, sunny person with some baggage and way too much care for him and your other friends

It doesn’t help that you’re stunning, gorgeous and have you seen her on the Quidditch field when she swings the bat with so much precision and-

Jeonghan and Jihoon: choke him with a pillow because he’s a SAP but it’s kinda cute

So y’all start dating…eventually, somewhere in sixth year. Like, you guys are celebrating after finallyyyy winning a Quidditch match against Slytherin (suck that, Wen Junhui)

And you and Seungcheol end up drinking a liiiiiittle too much Firewhiskey

Not to the point of being drunk, but like, to the point where y’all just a lil too honest drink responsibly babies

It’s pretty spontaneous tbh, like you end up celebrating and hugging and next thing you know you’re sitting in a corner with him by the window

Sighing and leaning your head back to feel the cool touch of glass

“I like this,” you whisper.

“Mhhmm…I like you.”

Cue double, triple take because wHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

And Coups is just like “No, I-I didn’t mean it?” but then suddenly you become visibly disappointed and he’s like OKAY MAYBE SHE LIKES ME OKAY WHAT 

And you’re just kinda flipping your shit because you don’t know what he wants but you’re really close to confessing 

You don’t notice you actually kinda start hyperventilating

Now Seungcheol is panicking too because he doesn’t know why you’re panicking and ohmygod what why hoooow

But he kinda is too tipsy to think so he just trusts his instincts and kisses you to calm you down 

And you’re too surprised to kiss back and I’m sorry to say it,,,,but that was not the best first kiss

Like full-on smooch, smack, poof, grab the face kiss that lasts 1 second

But after the initial surprise you’re feeling a bit more bold and calm how do those emotions work together? Honey don’t ask 

So you start kissing him whilst smiling into it, and this time, yess so nice

You guys kiss for another 2 minutes, at which point the crowd has turned their attention to OH MERLIN IS THAT CAPTAIN SEUNGCHEOL AND OUR BEATER?

You get shy and hide in his chest while he spins his back to the rest of the room, shielding you but also pressing you against the window

And you start giggling, because it’s kinda funny

He giggles with you because have you heard her giggle it’s adorable

You guys are unofficially dating after that evening, but Seungcheol asks you on a proper date to Hogsmeade two weeks later

Back to 7th year…you guys are Head Boy and Head Girl

Even though the other Houses are kinda salty that it’s two Gryffindors AGAIN, they have to admit you guys make a cute couple and really good Head Boy and Girl

So, y’know “Actually, good for them.” -random Ravenclaw, not pressured by Jeonghan to support y’all or anything. Nope. 

Coups tends to ruffle your hair a lot, and backhugs as a surprise

“Cheol, my bird’s nest really doesn’t need to be made extra messy you idiiiiot!”

“I’m your idiot” winks 

“Yes and that makes it worse.” So you pummel him with a pillow

Backhugs and cuddles are still your thing

The sofa by the fireplace in the Common Room is your Spot™, but at least now you don’t have to hide anymore

Younger kids walking past “Oh Merlin’s pants look at them they’re so cute…I want a romance like that.”

Older students just grill y’all like oooOOoOohHhhhh

“Watch it, or you’re gonna get detention” is usually Coups’ joking reaction

While you just go *middle fingers up* and cuddle deeper into his chest

You help him with Herbology, even now, and your rewards are kisses

Really, you two are role-models for everyone at school, both as people and as a happy love story. 

One down, 12 to go…fuck why did I pick SVT to write for?

Hope it’s to everyone’s liking, please reblog, like, comment, follow, whatever if you enjoyed the weird headcanon. Jeonghan’s up next!

Yours,

-Rémy

[ssaalexblake]

doctor\master\1-10

I’m just gonna do 13 and dhawan, easier. 

1) who can outdrink the other? Well, 13 can out drink him because Her coping mechanisms are apparently the time lord equivalent of vodka in a water bottle,  whereas his involve murder. So the doctor. She’s built up more of a tolerance. He’s horrified but also... dude... ur not innocent here. Then he drinks a lot to try and be less of a lightweight than her and fails miserably. 

2) who says “I love you” more? Neither of them. They get mad at themselves if they think it. The Denial is Strong in these ones. He just continues to murder anybody who has wronged her (has Nothing to do with her At All) and she continues to walk around like a live wire when anything to do with him is concerned to prove you know... she Doesn’t Care. *insert sure jan meme here*. 

3) who has trouble sleeping alone? I think they both just have trouble sleeping in general??? She works herself to exhaustion and he sometimes just lays on the most inconvenient space on the floor and stares into space till he falls asleep from boredom. Again, they need a space therapist, but no therapist deserves That, so... 

4) who swears more? I honestly don’t see these two swearing??? 12 and missy yeah... but i just don’t see it. He might let out the odd curse but not super often. 

5) who does more of the housework? They are both awful, disorganized and messy. By default he does b/c he doesn’t like the privilege of having Dirt on the bed sheets b/c she was experimenting (or worse, snacking), so he mostly just cleans up the most inconvenient of her messes. The plus side of having infinite rooms is, well... you can just move to a different one instead of tidying. 

6) who forgets their anniversary? the doctor. The master remembers every single significant date and even has the adjustments for different calendars worked out. I mean, he rarely actually Does anything about any of those dates except cause extra havoc because he’s pissed she forgot, but hey. It’s not like she ever realises Why he picks those days to be worse. 

7) who steals the duvet in their sleep? Both. She does it by accident while totally konked out. He does it on purpose while perfectly awake. They drive each other up a wall. Yelling is involved. Sleeping is not had. 

8) who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring? Both tho... they tend to weaponise it. If the other one has annoyed them they’ll wait till the other falls asleep, park their head right next to their ear to go to sleep themselves and... yeah. Sleep still not had. 

(7&8 end in them shagging b/c it’s either That or murdering each other and honestly??? dealing with each other’s post regeneration bullshit post murder is too much Work)

9) who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them? they both insist it’s the other. He calls her companions stray animals and insists her keeping them around as friends is like having a goldfish in a bowl (because they’re normally as thick as the fish Anyway), and in retaliation he keeps on picking up cute fluffy killing machines on random planets and insisting they keep them to annoy her. Without fail, this ends on whatever he picked up trying to eat his toes while he sleeps. 

10) who usually makes dinner? The Master... There is less chance of them being poisoned from his food that he sometimes actively doses with noxious chemicals purposefully for the lols, than of her trying to properly cook something nice and having a disaster. She made them sick with toast. It was just bread and nutella. She didn’t even bake the bread. He’s still half convinced it was a legitimate murder attempt. It wasn’t... She’s That bad. 

[rikerxworf]

for the otp ask pls answer them all

this is the first ask I got for this meme and it’s honestly giving me life you guys;;

1.       Who laughs at their own joke and who deadpans at the joke?

Will definitely laughs at his own jokes, and he will not stop just because Worf won’t react to them and would just stare back – that’ll only make Will laugh even more. As soon as he looks around though (and realizes that in fact NO ONE laughed), he might shut his mouth and look down lol.

2.       If they had a secret handshake, how would it go?

A Klingon one, maybe! Like the Qapla’ greeting just one each other’s shoulder instead of their own. Or just a really low high five, like super casual, maybe even without looking at each other, that’d be cool as well.

3.       It’s movie night, what movies are they gonna watch together?

The classics. Disney movies because Will loves them, and Worf learns to appreciate them over time. War movies, but those with hyper homoerotic subtext (I imagine those must be all over Klingon cinema lol). Queer cinema in general. The stuff Worf can get overly invested in lol

4.       It’s time to name their pet they adopted together, who gets to name it? How do they come to this decision?

Worf comes up with a name so great Will just says yes. He’ll probably choose something with an elaborate meaning. (Even though the name is already short, Will finds a way to construct a diminutive.) The Real Question is, what kind of pet would they adopt? Not a cat, I presume. A dog, rather. A big, ugly, dangerous-looking Klingon beast. Maybe. Like a warrior sehlat that everybody is afraid of, and then Will comes in like “Aren’t you a good boy??? Who’s a good boy???? You’re a good boy!!!” and it would whine like a puppy lol.

5.       Who would they love to go on a double date with?

Will would love a double date with just about anyone, simply because he likes double dates so much. Worf probably needs some persuasion, but he too would go on a double date with Geordi/Data or Deanna/one of her many girlfriends, if the location is to his taste. However, both Will and Worf draw a line when it comes to Lwaxana Troi, who is the greatest fan of double dates in the quadrant.

6.       Who wakes the other up in the morning? How do they wake them up?

I don’t think either of them has a problem getting up early in the morning, first of all. Worf gets up earlier because he wants to train on the holodeck before duty. When he comes back, he wakes Will with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When they are on vacation, say on Risa, Will gets up first to prepare breakfast. He goes to wake up Worf with a cup of coffee in his hands and whispers his name before he sits down on the edge of the bed. Once Worf is awake, Will gives him a kiss. (I’m getting soft just imagining this y’all)

7.       How do they celebrate Halloween?

To Will, it is just another opportunity to dress up like a slut and eat candy. Worf dresses up with a little accessory. They prepare sweets for the ship’s kids who do trick or treat, which is the quiet part of the evening. Once Alexander is in bed, they go to Ten Forward to celebrate with the other officers. Will gets very drunk. And flirty. Worf doesn’t mind, of course.

8.       Who is more likely to call their partner ‘dude’?

Will lol. Probably when Worf does some disgusting Klingon ritual that even Will can’t look at.

9.       During a thunderstorm how do they react? Is one scared? Do they both love it? Do they take pictures?

Both are fans of thunderstorms! Maybe in Klingon culture, a thunderstorm means that the Heavens are having some warrior’s party or something. It’s loud, it’s messy, it’s raw nature, that’s why Worf stands by the window and stares with a wide smile. Will does too. However, I’m playing with another idea: that he’s scared/nervous/concerned, and Worf needs to do some comforting – but that’s just my voracity for H/C speaking. Oh, another idea: Worf insists on going outside to experience the storm as intensely as possible, and Will worryingly recites thunderbolt protection rules in the hopes that Worf doesn’t get himself killed lol

10.   Who would looking lovingly at their partner and call them ‘idiot’?

Worf definitely has some gentle expressions going on from time to time, but Will is this pair’s Heart Eyes Department, so he’d stare lovingly at Worf, who is I don’t know, trying to brush his teeth or so, failing, and then say ‘idiot’ with a soft chuckle. And then he’d help him, of course ♡

11.   It’s time to get groceries, who likes to look at everything and who just wants to power through and get everything done so they can go back home?

I can imagine either version! Will being so enthusiastic about cooking that he’d check every shelf they pass, and Worf just clutching the (hover) shopping cart, praying that it’s over soon. Or, the other way around: Will has his quick shopping routine but can’t get anything done in time because Worf is so fascinated by everything they walk past on the market.

12.   Who is more likely to make a mess in the kitchen?

Worf. When Will cooks, it’s mostly orderly and not that much to clean up. But Worf – let’s just say Klingon kitchens are something else. Plus Worf doesn’t know shit about cooking because he’s so used to replicators. When he does try to cook (maybe to do Will a favor?), he not only messes up the kitchen, but also himself – face full of flour and apron bespattered with sauce, eyes wide – and Will finds him helpless like that, only to smile at him gently and help him clean up. And help him cook as well, think standing behind Worf and coordinating his hands while burying his nose in long curly hair~ uwu

13.   Who likes to try to prank their partner?

Definitely Will. Surprise parties, surprise kisses, lame joke items, lying (“Nope, no idea where your hairband is…”), but it’s never something serious or overly elaborate like those fake youtube pranks.

14.   When scrolling on their phone, who is more likely to show their partner a cute picture/video of an animal?

For cute animals, it’s Will showing them to Worf: “Aw, look, a bunny! Look at its tiny eyes and the fluffy ears! Look!!!” For dangerous/awesome animals, it’s Worf: “Have you ever seen a creature this majestic? Look at its eyes. The eyes of a warrior – a pause – The bunny is nice as well.”

15.   Who causes the tomfoolery and who has to try and stop the tomfoolery?

Will may cause deliberate tomfoolery. If at all, Worf is more of an involuntary troublemaker with the best intensions, whereas Will can be quite mischievous from time to time, I imagine. Although it’s all in good fun, things can take a turn for the worse when in combination with his clumsiness.

[syryns]

Do it dude venting makes you feel better

[warning: a lot of use of the f bomb in this, I also talk about self harm and a lot of depressing stuff :) I'm f*cking fine]

Ok I'm gonna vent. This isn't what this ask was originally telling me to vent about but hey, venting. And probably no one will read it but that's fine cause it isn't necessarily meant for anyone but me to read anyway.

Why is everything, every single thing, not as good as I hope. And why do I let myself hope, even when I know my hopes are far fetched and my expectations should be much lower.

Now, I know I've got a lot going for me. I have a good relationship with my family, though not super healthy, but fun. I have two good jobs, even if I fall asleep at one, and the other is so socially exhausting that I dread shifts a week before they happen. Yeah I'm overworking myself but I have things to show for it so that makes it kind of worth it. Sidenote though, I have discovered that the more consecutively I work for longer hours, the more of a bitch I become; I found myself hating people who I don't hate now that I've had some time to relax, I was so mad at everything and I wish I could apologize but I don't think people would get what I was trying to say.

Anyway, I don't have a lot to complain about apart from mental illness, trauma from grade school, and a lack of a love life. I feel bad for even being upset most of the time because I don't know what the hell I'm upset about. However, I'm not venting about that really, I'm going to vent about the fact that nothing ever fucking works out for me. Nothing has ever fucking worked out except for those things that I can't complain about. From an outside perspective it'd be: has a nice family, lives in a good home albeit messy, financially stable, good friends, physically healthy besides bad diet and little physical activity. That's great. It's great. But maybe the fucking reason I am not a hundredth as ambitious as my sisters is because not a single fucking one of my hopes has ever stuck.

When I was in elementary school, I made a little owl figurine in class. I was so proud of it, and I loved it, and I proceeded to show my mom and watch her throw it into the back of our family van to be crushed and forgotten, but not forgotten by me. When I was in middle school, my favorite magazine was looking for girls my age in my state to be in the next issue and my mom told me the deadline to enter was 2 months after what it was and I was heartbroken that I didn't even get to try, but I told my mom it was ok and that it wasn't that important anyway. I wanted to enter a drawing into a contest and when I showed my parents, they laughed at it because I'd misspelled a word, at that point it was in marker and too late to fix, so I didn't enter at all. I could go on forever about grade school ones, let's just say, I never won, and I never got on the fucking honor roll like my sisters, and I never got recognized for the things I was proud of, and I never got to leave the little box that my anxiety and family and school and world had put me in. So great. But I was a kiiiid, it's not like it really mattereddd! It's not like I was so scarred by my drawings being torn up in front of me that I became better at art just to get recognized and then have everyone think art was the only possible thing I could ever be successful in right? Or I was so insecure about my poor spelling that to this day I have to look up how to spell words that I already know how to spell to write something in my journal that no one will ever fucking read because "what it?" right? Right? I couldn't have been that influenced? And it definitely couldn't be more than just those two fucking things!

And it didn't get any fucking better after that. I went to a school with a major I don't want with no fucking plan and no idea what I was even doing there. I didn't want to be there At All. Only there because it's what my sisters did and what I was supposed to do. I failed every fucking one of my classes. Did fucking drugs. Got physically used by the person I liked. Got emotionally drained and used as a pack mule by one of my first roommates. Had to wake up every five fucking minutes on weekend nights for my next roommate so they wouldn't choke on their vomit in their sleep from getting too wasted. Dropped out before the semester even ended because it was either that or I'd be suspended for my fucking grades; which is a stupid fucking thing to do to a fucking kid, does any one person on the face of this Earth actually realize how much I was ready to throw myself out of my dorm window every night for an entire fucking month? And why did everyone try to brush it off when I wanted to talk about it? I digress.

Things were bleak, if I'm being honest, I don't think it's gotten any better, I've just gotten better at fucking dealing with it. I don't get a job until I was 18 and I didn't get my license until I was 20. Thing I wanted when I was 16, but couldn't get because not a single person of authority in my life believed in me :) and they'll say I was lazy, they'll say it was my anxiety holding me back, but then... Why didn't anyone help me? If I was that anxious, why didn't anyone help? If I was that lazy, why didn't any question why I had no motivation and no goals and no dreams? Because they wanted me to be independent? Well, I want my time back for all of it that was wasted growing up slowly only to learn that no one that is supposed to help is going to and the only people I could actually depend on are the people who depend on me just as much. I'm so tired of being the shut-in "artist" my mom wants me to be what I don't like art half as much as she wants me to. I'm tired of being the quirky daughter who just hasn't gotten her footing yet. I'm tired of my sisters thinking they are helping me by telling me to do everything they they would do in my situation because that's not me. I don't want to move to New York with you, I don't want to be a daycare provider my while life when I don't like little kids that much, and I certainly don't want to plan out my next 20 years of schooling to do something I will probably hate! I'm tired of being talked for by my family to everyone who wants to know what I'm doing. I'm not fucking fine. I'm managing. I'm not fucking losing it. I'm surviving. I thought I'd be dead by now in the serious sense and every hour I wonder why I haven't ending it already because I don't feel like I'm supposed to be here anymore. I feel like a waste of oxygen.

Ok it's been an hour since I started writing this and I have to work tomorrow. This started as me trying to say that I want my 21st birthday to be better than, my other birthdays, which won't even be hard to do, but I know it won't be a good birthday anyway.

Goodnight.