#but yeah I can’t just chuck them I have to recycle them

[aliosne]

ADHDcore is clearing your bedside table at 1:30am after ??? months, including clearing half the OTC meds you own, a dozen candies you don’t like that are covered in dust, and like ten unopened pieces of mail

[kirby-the-gorb]

reply roundup!

I guess vaguely once a month is just how these things work now, I do try to read everyone's tags and replies and stuff but a lot of them I just don't really have anything to reply with sorry! as always I appreciate the supportive words and well wishes and stuff <3

I also love the trifurcation of responses to [go to bed]: one group of people is like "yeah u right I sleep now thanks", one is like "sorry but I can't", and one is just like "no! I refuse!!!" lol

I did get two different "posts that have 10k to me" tags though, on [one] that actually passed 10k and [another] that is still barely triple digits and will probably stay there XD

anyway [chess kirb] was on the radar which is neat

also my birthday is this weekend :)

oh yeah and reminder that I also have a craft blog @sleepy-princess-craftery

on [the last roundup] @sacrasm said: oh the clonk'd is just my queued post tag! thr other one is self explanatory he is little he is pink and i affectionately call things freak sometimes (in combination with other words)

ohhhh that makes sense lol it was the clonk'd that I was baffled by thank you for explaining -u-

on [drowsy] @ceylonsilvergirl said: being laid up sick or injured is terrible, but I think we also need to acknowledge that it’s also boring as hell. can’t do anything fun. boring boring boring

it is!!! it's so boring!!! especially since I'm already baseline sick all the time so I have less options to start with, so to do even less than that is literally nothing!

anonymous asked: Gwah being sick sucks. I wish immune system upon you!

thank you! (I think I actually need less immune system? on account of the immune disorder. but either way I do not have an active infection anymore 👍)

on [tumble] @chefwhatnot said: get chucked idiot

where's that post like "'get (blank)ed idiot' is the funniest joke" cuz they're right

on [mask] @macro-microcosm said: glad you're feeling better! i agree that we should all still be masking up, it bothers me soooo much to see that so many people have stopped

like honestly, scientifically speaking it is way more effective and more accessible than just leaning on vaccines, and it protects people from all kinds of stuff not just covid! but nobody wants to wear masks and even people who think they're being cautious just want to lean on vaccine requirements, which is doubly inaccessible for me personally and probably millions of other people :( stresses me out too.

anonymous asked: Magicking you up some new containers

thanks! they didn't have what I wanted at target but we got some usable stuff from daiso, so at least it's not all still shoved in a ziploc bag.

@thewizardgnome asked: But what if I say bye

I mean yeah you can do that too if you want I guess lol

on [paper] @breathelifeintothatsoul said: Cool! I've always wanted to try and make my own (recycled) paper one time

it's fun! there's a lot of extra steps you can add in if you want to, but the absolute basics of it is just dump a bunch of paper strips into a bin, fill it with water, wait until it breaks up enough for your liking, then dunk some kind of stiff screen into it (horizontally) so you can pull out even layers of pulp to dry somewhere.

on [paper] @hermitfox said: oooo making your own paper is do much fun, I have fond memories from kindergarten doing that. ... actually what stops me from doing that as an adult. I should make paper again

do recommend, making things is fun and also good for you :) also the paper pulp is very Texture (affectionate) (to me) (I'm sure to others it can be very Texture (derogatory) but I like it)

on [yarn] @ceylonsilvergirl said: I am very envy of people who can follow a pattern, I can’t do that. I can do a friend being like “Oh this next one is two one two one’’, i can’t translate abbreviations into an idea in my mind. give me a diagram instead

I'm the opposite tbh, I find the abbreviations really easy to follow but looking at a diagram for knitting and crochet just turns into like, visual noise if it's more complex than like, a single fan stitch or whatever.

@my-life-is-a-bad-sitcom asked: You’re Kirby’s are so cool and I love your art style. Honestly awesome. Giving you a standing ovation. 👍

thank you! I love to draw a little guy

anonymous asked: I saw you on tumblr radar just now!! congrats!! -@secondbeatsongs

woah thanks sbs!

@darkchaogarden-blog asked: Tumblr's doing that dumb thing it's been doing lately where I can't reblog anything, so I'll just write to you personally that your art is excellent! Have a good day!

that sounds like such an irritating bug but thank you! I hope you had a good day too whenever this was :)

on [chess] @shiinteractsif said: dudes at the search thingy image. congrats

oh cool I wondered where the radar posts showed up on mobile!

on [chair] @mads-is-tired said: i’ve never played a kirby game but i desperately want to BECAUSE LOOK AT HIM

honestly so valid, he's basically a character brand to me (like hello kitty or rilakkuma). I'm probably biased, but I feel like the best games to start with are either forgotten land (the one that came out on switch last year) or crystal shards (originally for the n64, also available through the nintendo online vc). I think they're the most visually appealing (aside from epic yarn which is not a mainline game) and while they reward exploration they're not as complex as some of the handheld titles to fully explore, nor are they as hand-holdy as some of the other console titles. a good middle ground of feeling like you did the thing, without being frustrating.

on [soup] @give-soup-please said: ME #soupblogging #fucking same

how delightful that this post managed to find you :) these tags make me happy whenever I think of them

on [soup] @lord-chiopet said: me too bud. you too op hope the weather approved

good news, the weather has improved :) now it is overcast and drizzly, my favorite!

on [chess] @wealmostaneckbeard said: Neither of them know how to play so they made up some rules...

what a cute idea! I hope they are having fun with their new game.

on [baseball] @hutbug said: the teal color is called northwest green and we still wear it all the time!! its beautiful u did an amazing job

thank you for the info! before this season I hadn't really had access to baseball for the past like 8 years or something and a lot has changed lol so I didn't really trust my memory

on [blue] @ceylonsilvergirl [added] "I CAN TRY AGAIN TOMORROW! Or next week! or next month..."

that really is the vibe lately huh.

anonymous asked: Your kirbys bring me daily serotonin

aww good!

[demie90s]

After You

College!Shuri x Black Female Reader

Part 1

Warnings: Light Cursing

Authors Note: I haven’t written in a year.

  ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

See here’s the thing.

There are multiple types of roommates.

For Example:

•The Ghost - You saw them on move-in day and his room is furnished, but they are literally never home.

• The Hermit - Unlike the ghost, you always know where to find the hermit in their room. It’s like they never leave home, even for class.

•The Neat Freak - Roommate thinks your room is a pigsty because you have one sock on the ground and an empty water bottle that isn’t placed in the recycling.

• The Slob - Literally never cleans up after their self and completely ignores the chore list that was agreed to by each roommate.

•The One With a Significant Other - Always together and if not they are most likely on the phone. They go to class together, eat together, study together, and sleep together

•The One With a Significant Other from High School - Same just Fucking weird.

•The Passive Aggressive - Any time there’s an issue that could easily be resolved with a simple face-to-face conversation, they choose to leave you a sticky note and reminder instead. They avoid face-to-face confrontation, but always seems to have something to complain about.

•The Partier - They constantly blast music, invite friends over and make silence a sacred thing you never see anymore.

•The Overly Attached - What you didn’t anticipate is that one of them would follow you everywhere and expect to be best friends forever.

•The Perfect Match - This roommate is quite hard to find; but once you find one, you’ll love them. They’re everything you’re looking for in a roommate. Honest, respectful and just a well-rounded person. If you meet the perfect roommate, try and stick with him for as long as possible, as they are a rare breed!

You get the point. But here we are. Hiding from mine in the fucking bathroom. 

You might be asking…

‘Why are we hiding in the bathroom?’

‘Is our roommate a damn Lion or Dinosaur?’

‘Are they threatening us?’

‘Or are the just overall bat shit crazy?’

No.

None of that.

Quite the opposite.

Now we have a right to say when our roommate is not a good roommate. But right now it’s the complete opposite. Because the roommate in question is The gotdamn Princess of Wakanda. 

How do I even?

Where do I even?

What do I even?

You know what fuck it.

Okay good talk ‘me’ I’m glad we both are on the same page.

Finally I look at my phone for the time and luckily I have only been in here for 5 minutes. I slowly reach for the knob and gain back courage. I mean she is still human. Just a very important, hot, smart,incredible human.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Backtrack

Casually laying in bed Y/n had no idea what was in store.

New E-mail From: Howard University

Click

Hello, Y/fn Y/ln

It's important that I reach you as soon as possible with details about your roommate request with the Howard University Housing Facility.

We have looked into numerous roommate applications and have found many matches for you.

However, we have learn that there’s an international student (Imani Harper) who has also gained a full academic scholarship as well. Being the the Hall you are staying in is only for Scholars and you are the only on not paired with a roommate yet we will be pairing you two up. Can’t wait to see you both.

Sincerely,

Harry Marido

Director of Admissions

Howard University

1730 Lanie Monroe Parkway

Washington , WA 52107 (Obviously fake)

Alrighty then so much for decorating her dorm to her liking.

We Back

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

‘Hey’ she says reaching her hand out for me to shake. ‘Wassup’ you say back saying calm and smiling a bit.

‘I am going to guess you know my name is not Imani Harper. Though many people have already figured that out. I still don’t know why I lied.’ She says shaking her head and chucking a bit.

‘Yeah.’ I say smiling back trying to hold my composure.

‘Well this is better at least I don’t have to go through the introductions.’ She says going back to unpack.

Now I know I handled it like a G but bitch my heart is doing all types of disrespectful flips.

‘Have you taken the tour yet? You know..the campus tour. I didn’t have time’ She asked.

Sitting on her bed looking at me with her elbows in her knees (y’all know THE LOOK). I looked for a while in awe just thinking about her her accent sounded making her smirk and laugh a bit shaking her head.

Her eye contact is just godly.

‘Uh yeah…you want me to give you one? I only remember some of it.’ I finally replied questionably because I didn’t know much as well being that I just arrived today.

‘Yes’ she said standing up put her hands behind her back tilting her head a bit. ‘Ight…yeah…let’s go’ I say heading towards to door only for her to reach around slightly touching my lower back and opening it.

‘After You’ She said still smirking.

Oh boy.

[jean-kayak]

Chapter 2

Summary: A relaxing summer after your second year of college sounds nice, until someone comes back and makes it anything but

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x black!fem!reader

Warnings: Eren being a HUGE fucking tease

Word Count: 1851

A/N: This is lowkey a filler chapter, kinda just something that advances the story, and heightens the tension. And I decided to start to posting on Tuesdays and Fridays bc this series is mad long lmao

Tags: @her-majesty-kiara​, @germfart3​, @styxtm​, @iwascrybaby​, @snkpaths, @prxttyguardian

Chapter Summary: You’re falling deeper and deeper into his spell

Your plans haven't been completely thwarted, you've hung out at Jean's house and haven't seen Eren since, so you feel a little bit better. You're at your house this time, the fans blowing on you as you both lay on the floor.

"Remind me why I keep letting you take me outside," you groan, the fans barely working to cool you down.

"Because you love me," he returns, and you shake your head as you roll over onto your back.

"No, that can't be it," you tease, squealing lightly when a pillow comes flying your way, putting your arms up to shield your face. You hear the front door open, but you don't move, letting your head rest against the cool wooden floor.

"Oh, no, the kids are dead," your mom jokes, and you and Jean both chuckle as you turn your head to look at her. "Sweetie, do you think you could help me with something outside real quick?"

You whine as you scrunch your nose. "But, Mom, it's hot," you complain, and she rolls her eyes before waving you off.

"Girl, come on, it won't take long." You groan but slowly start to get up anyway.

"Ha ha," you hear Jean laugh like a little kid, and you chuck the pillow at him as you scowl at him. You whine again when you feel the heat pounding at your skin, and you follow your mom towards one of her flower beds.

"Uh, Mom, those plants aren't going to survive," you tell her, feeling the humid air suffocating you as you wave a hand in front of your face in vain.

She laughs lightly before wiping her forehead, and she digs another hole. "They'll be fine, it's gonna get cooler." You raise your eyebrows at her words as you wait for her to tell you what to do. "I'm almost out of dirt, so I need you to get some from the garage."

You sigh heavily, but turn around anyway and make your way towards the garage. You grimace when the place is way hotter than the outside, and you look for the dirt and sighing when you find it, realizing you have to lift it. You squat down to pick it up, situating it until your arms are wrapped around it with it firmly placed against your chest.

As you walk out of the garage, you look to your left, and you instantly regret it. You don't even realize you've stopped in your tracks as your eyes land on Eren who's working on his truck. He looks up and makes eye contact with you, an easy smirk appearing across his face.

Before you can blink or do anything, he standing upright, slipping his t-shirt off quickly, shoving it in his back pocket before fixing his hair. You bite your lip to stop yourself from drooling which you know you were doing, and even from where you're standing, you can see his chiseled abs and defined back muscles shining in the sun rays with sweat, and he moves back to working on his car, his biceps flexing with every movement.

"Y/N!" You jump when you hear your name, expecting it to be your mom when you look around for the source, but you smile when you see Ymir walking up your driveway.

"Ymir, hey, how are you?" you ask, adjusting the bag of dirt in your arms that's slipping from the amount of sweat on your arms.

"Glad that school is over," she answers, stopping when she gets to you, and you scoff in agreement.

"I know that's right." She laughs with you before turning to where you were looking not too long ago.

"Holy shit, is that Eren Jaeger?" she asks in disbelief, and you smack her with the bag.

"Shut up! He can probably hear you," you scold, and you glance at him. "And yeah, it is."

"I thought he couldn't get any hotter," she comments, and you nod your head as you silently agree with her. "But he's not really my type," she finishes with a shrug, and you chuckle as you turn towards her.

"Yes, we know. Your type is Historia." You laugh again when she shoves at you before you both turn to walk back towards your mom.

You both hit it off pretty quickly when you met, and she was always someone you hung out with whenever Jean wasn't free. Even though you would trust her with your life, you never breathed a word to her about any of your interactions with Eren. Whenever she would ask, you'd give her meaningless or one-sentence answers. Jean finding out what happened back then was enough embarrassment for you.

"How ya doing, Mrs. L/N," Ymir greets, and your mom turns around, standing up quickly in surprise.

"Ymir, oh wow, it's been a while hasn't it?" she asks, resting her hands on her hips.

"It has, it's good to see you," she tells her, and your mom returns it, and Ymir asks what she's doing.

"Planting in the scorching heat of summer," you answer, and your mom rolls her eyes at you. "And now she's got me out here in the heat." She chuckles as she grabs the bag from you, and you wince when you feel how sore your muscles are from holding the dirt when you let them fall to your sides. "Why are you planting anyway?"

"Your father and I made a bet. He doesn't think that I'll be able to grow them," she explains as she gets back down on the ground to open the bag of dirt.

"Can Dad even keep plants alive?"

"You know, I asked him the same thing." You all share a laugh before you and Ymir head inside. Jean's still laying on the floor, but this time his head is turned as he scrolls through his phone. You hear them start talking as you go to get something to drink for you and Ymir.

You walk back into the living room, handing it to her as you find your original place on the floor, and the three of you catch up on what's happened over the course of your freshman and sophomore year, most of the conversation consisting of teasing Jean. You hear the door open, and your mom's complaining about the heat, but what she says after that makes you shoot your head up.

"Come on in, Eren, you've been out there for a while, you're always welcome."

"Thank you so much, Mrs. L/N." You sit up quickly, your eyes landing on a shirtless Eren standing in your foyer, shorts hanging so low on his hips that you're sure it should be a crime as he smirks at you.

"Y/N, why don't you get him some water while I got wash up?" You sit there for a second, dumbfounded before you move, not wanting to raise suspicion as your mom walks out of sight.

"And I still have to see you even when I'm not at home," Jean groans when you stand.

"Love you, too, bro," Eren jokes before following behind you. You open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and tossing it to him without looking at him. You hear snippets of the conversation between Ymir and Jean, thankful that they're not listening. "Thanks," he tells you, and you trail your eyes up his body, meeting that stupid smirk on his face as he screws the cap off.

He never takes his eyes off of yours, and you watch his Adam's apple bob, some of the water dripping down his face before you snap out of it. "You're, uh, welcome."

He smiles at you when he finishes the whole thing and tossing it into the recycling bin. "I really appreciate it," he says, walking towards you until your back hits the fridge, the cooling sensation not the only thing that causes you to shudder.

"It was no problem. Seriously." You want to push him back, but that would mean you would have to touch him, and every part of his torso is nothing but muscle, and you try to keep your gaze on his face and not his glistening skin.

"I feel like I should pay you back somehow," he starts, his voice dangerously low, and you grip the handles as you shrug.

"You don't have to do that. It's just water," you respond weakly, and he rests a hand flat against the fridge next to your head.

"But I want to," he pushes, and you shrug again as you try to find anything else to look at.

"What did you have in mind?" Your mind isn't even on the right track anymore, Eren is the only thing filling your senses.

He steps closer to you, letting his hand fall, his finger tracing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its path. "I've got a lot in mind."

"L-Like what?" You shouldn't be pushing him, you should be leaving, but he always manages to keep you frozen in place.

"For starters," he says, gripping your hip softly. "I'd pin you down and mark every inch of your skin so that everyone knows that you're mine."

You feel your head spinning, the dizzying feeling nearly making your legs go weak, and when he trails a finger up your neck, you look over his shoulder finding a spot on the wall to try and ground yourself. "Then what?"

He huffs softly as he grips your chin, making you look at him, and you don't fight it. "Then," he starts, leaning in closer. "I'd fuck you until you couldn't walk. Until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is my name."

Your eyes shut for a quick second as you bite your lip to muffle your whimper. "Just for a bottle of water?" you try to joke, but now you're breathing heavy, and the playful tone is overshadowed by lust, your core throbbing almost to the point of painful.

He tilts his head as he smirks at you. "Say it."

Your face scrunches slightly in confusion, but your voice is still wavering. "Say what?"

His response is a chuckle as he's backing away from you, and you grip the handles of the fridge until it hurts to keep yourself from pulling him back to you. "You'll say it eventually."

You don't really know what he's talking about, but he backs away from you to create enough distance that isn't questioning just as your mom comes into the kitchen. "Did you get him the water?" she asks, and you try to nod, but your brain is still foggy so it looks like you're malfunctioning, which you basically are.

"She did. Thanks again," he tells you, flashing that smile that he always put on around your parents. "I think I'm gonna get back to work, but it was nice talking to you."

"You as well." He gives you one last look before he's walking out, and you drop your head as you try to make your breathing even again. "He's just such a gentleman, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he sure is."

|Chapter 1|Masterlist|Chapter 3|

Taglist: CLOSED

[lazuliquetzal]

Don't Take It Personally, Asshole!

@snowlikestardust

BY POPULAR REQUEST: This is a (cleaned up) version of an early draft of CH11 of AA Batteries, which is in Akira’s POV instead of Miyuki’s! You’ll probably recognize a lot of turns of phrase because I’m unoriginal and like, 80% of what I cut gets recycled. This scene got cut up and Frankensteined a LOT into later chapters haha.

So this takes place during the Yakushi practice match, right after Eijun throws wild and Miyuki talks to Kataoka about his inability to throw to the inside.

“Akira.” Akira stiffens and turns his gaze away from the mound. Coach is standing on the sidelines, and he makes a ‘come here’ gesture. Akira jogs over. He tries to ignore the flicker of hope in his chest, but he can’t stop the way his heart is pounding out of control, leaving him barely able to hear. “Coach,” Akira dips his head in respect and clenches his jaw. His eyes fix upon the ground below. “Can you fix this?” ‘This’ being the obvious — the fact that Eijun can’t throw to the inside. He looks back to the mound. Eijun is stiff and pale, his left hand clenching and unclenching in unconscious denial. He looks a little scared, yes, but mostly, he looks confused. And — this is the important thing — he hasn’t given up. This Eijun won’t shuffle back to the dugout, defeated. This Eijun will go down kicking and screaming. Eijun still wants to pitch. Maybe he can’t pitch. But he wants to. Yeah, Akira thinks. I’ll take those odds.

He looks back at the coach and nods his head.

Kataoka breaks his gaze and looks to the outfield. “Asou!”

Their left fielder jogs in, mouth pulled into a firm line.

“Miyuki, you’re playing left field. Akira, you’re in.”

You’re in.

The words echo around Akira’s brain. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

While Kataoka sorts out the substitution with the umpires, Akira exhales. He drops down onto the bench and adjusts the straps on his leg guards, making sure they’re not too tight or too loose. Beside him, Furuya hovers, eyes narrowed.

Are you going to be okay?

Akira nods.

The truth is: he’d thought about the Inajitsu thing for a long time. And after the initial anger and grief and shame, he’d come to the following conclusion:

Coach Kataoka was right. Akira probably would not have survived that inning.

It wasn’t nerves. Akira had never been nervous in his life.

(Okay, he had been nervous, of course he had. But not for a baseball game.)

And it wasn’t lack of skill or experience, though that probably played a big role in the coach’s decision.

(Okay, definitely played a big role in the coach’s decision. Let’s be honest: Akira was not the best catcher in the dugout that day.)

The truth is this: Akira was scared, too.

For good or ill, better or worse, Eijun and Akira have always fed off each other like a chemical reaction. If Eijun got excited, Akira got excited. If Akira got competitive, Eijun got competitive. Having them play while they were both out of their minds would not have ended well.

Today is a different story.

He’s not going to lie: it is weird seeing Eijun unable to pitch to the inside. It’s practically unthinkable. Eijun and Akira lived and died by the inside pitch. It pretty much defined their entire middle school career.

But right now? Akira’s not scared. And as long as he can hold onto that, he can fix this.

Kataoka gestures for him to get out on the field, and Akira steps out of the dugout.

“Do your best,” Miyuki says, from behind him.

Akira resists the urge to roll his eyes. As if I’d do anything less.

They split off: Miyuki to the outfield, and Akira to the mound. He jogs up to where Eijun is standing. When he arrives, he stops just an arm’s length away from his brother.

Eijun stares at him for a moment, and Akira stares back.

“Hey,” Akira says. “What sign does Miyuki-senpai use for the cutter kai?”

Eijun blinks, caught off guard by the question. He shakes his head and answers the question. “Ah, he uses a ‘four,’” he says, and he makes the sign with his hand.

“Cool,” Akira says. “I’m gonna use a seven.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Eijun makes a face. “You’re doing this just to be annoying, aren’t you.”

“Yep.”

“And even if I argue, you’re going to use it anyway.”

“Absolutely.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Great,” Akira says, in the flat voice that he knows Eijun finds irritating. “Good talk.”

He steps away and turns to the rest of the field. “So, uh, they’re probably gonna get a lot of hits,” Akira yells out. “Like, a lot. Sorry about the workout. Thanks for your cooperation.”

“You’re saying it wrong!” Eijun hisses at him. “And they are not gonna get a lot of hits!”

“I dunno, Ei,” Akira says, rolling his eyes. “You’re not exactly on top of your game, are you?”

“I’ll kick your ass if you make bad calls.”

“So shake them.” Akira glares at Eijun, daring him.

Eijun agitatedly waves his arms around. “You know I — ugh! Shut up! Get off my mound!”

Akira waves good-bye, as annoyingly as he can, and he walks down to home plate. He sketches a quick bow to the batter and the umpire, and then he crouches down.

The game resumes.

Akira takes a quick look around, the way Chris-senpai taught him to. The runners are at ease, barely paying attention to him. The guy on first base looks especially relaxed.

Hm. He’s never done a pickoff before. That would be pretty cool.

Akira turns his attention back to the mound, and he’s about to make a call —

And then he frowns.

He wants to tell Eijun to throw to the inside. And he knows, by the expression on his brother’s face, that it’s what Eijun wants to do, too.

But there’s something else in Eijun’s gaze. His eyes keep darting around — not to the runners, but to the batter.

Akira glances over at Todoroki Raichi. Yakushi’s monster first-year, a batter who can crush an ace in a single hit. Logic says to be careful; logic says to keep their guard up against the best batter in West Tokyo.

Well, fuck that, Akira decides. If Eijun really can’t pitch to the inside, then every batter might as well be Todoroki Raichi. It’s like middle school all over again.

He spreads his arms wide.

Eijun blinks.

Ignore him, Eijun. Just pitch whatever.

You’re joking, right?

Akira smirks. What, you think I can’t catch it?

Eijun sticks his tongue out — petty and dramatic as always. Akira rolls his eyes, and he knows that his brother can see it because he rolls his eyes back.

Eijun throws the ball.

It's instinctual, at this point, to move his feet and stretch his arm, catching the ball before it can fly out of reach. It slams into the back of his mitt, his vision tunnels — and before his brain can catch up with his body, he chucks the ball down to first base.

Wait, shit —

Thankfully, Zono-senpai catches the ball and tags out the runner. Pickoff.

"Out," says the umpire, looking just as surprised as Akira feels.

Holy crap! Akira thinks, in the safety of his own mind. That actually worked?

Zono tosses the ball back to Eijun, and then sends Akira a fiercely enraged expression.

Akira winces and ducks his head. He can hear Chris-senpai’s voice in his mind: baseball is a team sport.

Oops.

But they got the out, so at least he didn’t fuck up his very first play in the game.

Akira looks back to Eijun. Judging by the wild course of his last pitch, he’s still overly aware of the batter.

Akira spreads his arms, again.

Eijun grits his teeth. He steps onto the rubber and winds up.

It comes. Low. It hits dirt, and Akira stops it. Then he tosses it back.

Throw what you want.

“Are you leading me, or not?” Eijun yells, finally cracking.

“Depends!” Akira yells back.

Eijun crosses his arms. On what?

Akira mimes the motion of a ball hitting him in the face, and then flaps his hand around.

Eijun stares at him incredulously. Excuse me?

It’s a valid concern!

Eijun groans in frustration. I’m not gonna hit you in the face!

Aw, you do care! Akira grins and fires off a sarcastic thumbs up, just rile up his brother a little bit more.

It works, because Eijun’s eyes flash, bubbling up with barely contained fury.

Get mad. It’s better than being scared.

Eijun steps back onto the rubber and tightens his grip on the ball, daring Akira to make the call.

Akira places his mitt. Fastball to the outside.

Eijun throws. Todoroki swings. Foul.

Akira barely registers the hit — as soon as he realized it was a foul, he’d already started planning the next move. Another outside pitch, again, but a four-seamer this time.

Eijun throws.

Foul.

Okay, Akira thinks. He looks back at his brother and studies his expression.

He still looks annoyed and irritated. And even better — he’s not looking at Todoroki Raichi anymore.

Good.

He makes the call. And Eijun follows.

It’s like déjà vu, Akira thinks, as the ball makes its way toward him. A fastball to the inside corner, a sight he’s seen thousands of times. The batter tenses, squares his hips, and swings the bat.

Clang.

Like lightning, a sudden stab of oh shit flashes across Akira’s chest. That was a good hit — firm and loud and solid.

Oops, Akira thinks, as Todoroki takes off running and the runners start trickling in. In retrospect? It was probably obvious that they were gunning for an inside pitch. Most batters are pretty comfortable with the gambler’s fallacy —

Someone clicks their tongue, and Akira blinks, crashing back into the present. Eijun’s glaring at him, again.

Deal with that later, dumbass.

Akira rolls his eyes, but Eijun’s right. Unfortunately.

They’re in the middle of a game right now. He can reflect upon his baseball sins at two in the morning.

The moment the next batter steps up to the plate, Akira calls for another inside pitch. And Eijun delivers.

The ball slams into the back of his mitt, and it’s like a gear clicking into place. How long has it been since he caught for his brother outside of mandatory practice? How long has it been since they formed a battery on the field?

The familiar sensation doesn’t wipe away the anger, but it does drown it out. Who needs feelings? They have baseball.

“Nice pitch,” Akira calls out, and he tosses the ball back to the mound. Truce?

Eijun receives the toss. He nods and straightens his back. Truce.

The rest of their play time blurs by after that.

[chibistarlyte]

PROMPTS! “If you don’t dance with me right now I’m going to…. be…. upset.” TodoBaku 👀👀👀👀

thank youuuuu for the prompt ilu so much 💜💜💜💜

this ended up so much longer than i anticipated...almost 2k lmfao enjoyyyyyy

.

Katsuki had spent the majority of the evening by the punch table, using it as a safe haven of sorts to avoid getting dragged into conversations he didn't want to be part of. He hated social gatherings, especially ones where the point was to mingle and make connections and do all this shit that Katsuki really didn't care about. 

He hated that hero work also involved making nice with big bosses in the business. All the schmoozing and ass-kissing to get sponsors and shit was really not his style. Katsuki preferred to have his work in the field speak for itself, thank you very much.

He'd refilled his punch cup umpteen million times at this point, and yet he still ladled in more of the horribly sweet drink. It sloshed about and leaked over the rim of the clear plastic cup, some of the sticky juice getting all over his fingers.

"Shit," he swore, setting his cup down on the table and reaching for a napkin. He wiped as much of the juice off his fingers as he could, though there was some sticky residue left that probably wouldn't come off until he washed his hands.

"Are you making a mess over here?"

Katsuki could feel his lips already pursing in irritation. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to, and one glance over his shoulder confirmed his worst assumption. 

Fucking Todoroki Shouto, looking all prim and proper in his navy-colored suit, came up right next to Katsuki at the punch table. The half-n-half bastard had a knowing smirk that made Katsuki wanna punch his perfect face.

"Fuck off, you shithead," Katsuki grumbled, picking up his cup and turning to face Todoroki. "I'm busy."

"Busy avoiding everyone, I see," Todoroki answered flatly, grabbing a clean cup for himself and scooping some punch out of the bowl.

"Obviously it's not fucking working, since you're here annoying me to death," Katsuki said, even though out of every person present at this stupid gathering, he'd rather interact with Todoroki.

Which was saying a lot, since Katsuki couldn't stand the guy.

At least, that's what he'd been telling himself since they were fucking fifteen years old. 

"I needed a breather," Todoroki admitted, placing the ladle back in the bowl with a clink. He watched Katsuki as he sipped at his punch, the intensity in his mismatched eyes putting Katsuki on edge.

"What, can't breathe with your mouth against all those peoples' asses?" Katsuki asked, earning himself a choked laugh from Todoroki. The sound was enough to draw Katsuki’s own gaze to Todoroki, and his heart stopped when he saw the mirth on the other man's face.

Katsuki wanted to punch and kiss Todoroki in equal parts. Which was a major fucking problem.

"I've never been fond of kissing asses," Todoroki said with a nonchalant shrug, though the grin at Katsuki’s comment still hadn't left his mouth. "I watched too many people do it to my father, and I just find it stupid. I'd rather earn things on my own merit rather than using false flattery to impress people."

"You and me both," Katsuki snorted, taking a sip of his punch.

They stood together in a companionable enough silence, drinking their punch and watching people mill about the party. A few minutes later, though, the lights around the room dimmed. A rectangular area in the middle of the room was illuminated with spotlights in a rainbow of colors, and there was an echoing in the speakers as the DJ tapped the microphone. 

"Alright, everyone, now that we've had time for the business end of things, who's ready to actually party?" the DJ said into the microphone. Cheers echoed feebly around the room.

The DJ tapped some buttons on their laptop and an upbeat dance song started up over the speakers. "Get your dance on!" they urged the crowd, and sure enough, a few people stepped out onto the makeshift dance floor and began jamming to the music.

Katsuki groaned and clenched his fingers around his cup, causing it to crack around the rim a little. "Fucking great," he muttered, rolling his eyes. 

"What?" Todoroki asked, raising a snow white brow. "Don't like to dance?"

"What the fuck would ever give you the goddamn idea that I do?" Katsuki said.

Todoroki just shrugged, finishing off his punch and tossing his cup into a nearby recycling bin. "Well...would you like to?"

Katsuki squinted his eyes at Todoroki. "Like to what?"

"Dance with me," Todoroki said easily, far too easily for someone who seemed to have a death wish via explosions. 

"The fuck? No!" Katsuki yelled, swiping his arm in a motion that backed up his words. "Why the hell would I ever willingly go dance in front of all these fucking people, least of all with you?"

Todoroki just shrugged again, the bastard, and said, "I thought it would be fun."

"Go dance by your fucking self, then," Katsuki growled, gesturing to the dance floor.

"That kind of defeats the purpose of dancing, don't you think?" Todoroki asked, placing a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. It took everything Katsuki had not to flinch at the contact—not that it was unwelcome, but more so the idea of Todoroki touching him, even in the most innocent way, did weird things to his insides that he fucking hated. 

"Is there even a fucking purpose to dancing?" Katsuki countered.

"I suppose not…" Todoroki said. "But I still want to dance with you."

Katsuki was going to either faint or combust, neither option being ideal. 

"Fuck off," he growled without much heat, shrugging Todoroki’s hand off his shoulder. 

"Bakugou, if you don't dance with me right now, I'm going to...be...upset," Todoroki said flatly, but his eyes dared to look hopeful.

And that sealed Katsuki’s fate.

"Ugh, fucking fine," Katsuki said, downing the rest of his punch and chucking the cup in the recycling bin. "But only one dance."

"Perfect." Todoroki had a small smile, but that small smile lit up his entire face and Katsuki was really, really going to die right here and now.

He let Todoroki take his hand and pull him to the dance floor, where they found an empty spot near one of the back corners. Todoroki eased right into the beat of the pop song currently playing, nodding his head and popping his shoulders to the tempo. Katsuki, on the other hand, just stood there stupidly, not really knowing what to do. 

He glared at Todoroki, who just chuckled at him in return.

"Bakugou, just move to the beat, it's easy," Todoroki said, taking Katsuki’s hands in his own and swinging his arms from side to side. Katsuki immediately felt his palms sweat and prayed to whatever deity was listening that he wouldn't lose his cool and explode Todoroki’s arms off accidentally.

"This is so fucking stupid," Katsuki complained, if only to cover up his nervousness. 

"It's fun," Todoroki said, as if that statement alone would be enough to get Katsuki to change his opinion.

"Fun for you, maybe," Katsuki mumbled, tensing as Todoroki pulled himself closer to Katsuki.

The song ended and transitioned into something much softer and slower. Katsuki looked around at the other people on the dance floor, watching as they all paired up and stood close to one another. 

It was time for him to dip out. No fucking way he would be able to do a slow dance with Todoroki without making a fool of himself.

"Okay, that was your one dance," Katsuki said, yanking his hands out of Todoroki’s grasp. He immediately felt awful doing so, seeing a shadow of disappointment cross Todoroki’s face. 

"But you barely danced," Todoroki said with a frown. "I did all your dancing for you."

"Not my fault I can't fucking dance," Katsuki said, turning to leave. But he was stopped when Todoroki grabbed his hand.

"Please, Bakugou...one more dance?"

Todoroki’s voice alone was enough to crumble Katsuki’s resolve. Resigned, he sighed and turned back to Todoroki. He purposely did not look at the other man's face, afraid of what he'd see. "Fine. One more dance."

Katsuki practically felt the happiness radiating off of Todoroki when he agreed. A second later, Todoroki adjusted Katsuki’s hand in his grip and settled his other hand tenderly on Katsuki’s waist. Katsuki had to suppress a shiver at the touch.

"Put your hand on my shoulder, Bakugou," Todoroki instructed softly, and Katsuki complied.

Finally looking up at Todoroki, Katsuki felt his heart quicken at the sheer joy in those bi-colored eyes. To think that something as simple as agreeing to dance with Todoroki…

Katsuki let out an involuntary gasp as Todoroki pulled him slightly closer. The taller man swayed them both gently to the soft tune of the music, and just this once, Katsuki didn't mind Todoroki taking the lead. He followed more than willingly. 

The song came to an end faster than Katsuki expected. To his surprise, Todoroki hadn't let go of him, even as the next song started up. It was some sort of guided dance, where everyone gathered in lines and followed the prompts with specific dance moves.

"We should get out of the way," Katsuki said, his voice raspy for some fucking reason.

"Yeah," Todoroki agreed, still not letting go of Katsuki as he pulled them both off the dance floor and back to the punch table.

Katsuki looked at their still joined hands, clearing his throat loudly and praying Todoroki hadn't noticed the flush darkening his face. "Let go of my fucking hand," he grumbled, though he made no move to make Todoroki release him.

"O-Oh, sorry," Todoroki said, looking genuinely remorseful as he let go of Katsuki’s hand. 

"'S'fine," Katsuki said, shoving his sweaty hands into the pockets of his slacks. He gave Todoroki a sidelong glance and muttered, "Can't believe you conned me into two dances."

Todoroki let out a little laugh, much to Katsuki’s relief. "I can't believe it either, honestly. I didn't think you would."

"Then why'd you ask?" Katsuki asked, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline in surprise.

Todoroki gave him a disarming smile that made Kastuki’s go weak in the knees. "Because I wanted to," he said as conversationally as one would talk about the weather.

Katsuki snorted. "You fucking idiot," he said, affection bleeding into his voice against his will.

Todoroki chuckled. "An idiot who just wanted to dance with you," he amended, making Katsuki snort again.

Then, Todoroki leaned forward and gave Katsuki a shy kiss on the cheek. The gesture was over before Katsuki could even compute what had happened. As Todoroki pulled away, all Katsuki could do was blink repeatedly at the taller man in shock.

"Thanks for the dances, Bakugou," Todoroki said, giving Katsuki a small wave before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Katsuki let out the breath that had been sitting in his lungs for the last eternity or so, feeling himself go lightheaded. His hand instinctively reached up, fingers brushing his cheek where Todoroki’s lips had just been.

"Holy shit," Katsuki breathed out.

He needed some more punch.

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || fix his broken heart

mar. 2018. i realized today that i can’t always make jungkook happy. he has his own struggles too, and perhaps as a friend i can only ever stay beside him when he’s heartbroken. yet, i’m unsatisfied with that realization. i wish i could do more for him. 

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: angst

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mayhaps you use a bad word  👀

The first time you realized you loved him was also the first time you ever saw him cry.

Jungkook liked to be your resident tough guy. He always forced you to watch horror movies with him late at night simply because he liked remaining unperturbed as you shook in terror, him laughing whenever you covered your eyes in anticipation for the jumpscare as soon as the music cuts out. You knew well enough after years of this torture that dolls, children, and cheap housing signaled big demon energy. However, despite sitting through more horror flicks than the average person, you still keep your lamp light on for a good three nights afterwards—just in case. Jungkook loved teasing you with this information, but you were more concerned about the possibility that your best friend-turned-roommate was a demon himself. How else would he be able to watch nightmarish Annabelle movies without even flinching?

As hard-working and aspiring as he is, he also never breaks down when he misses a goal he’s set for himself. You’ve seen him shattered for underperforming in a class he was confident in, angry for not winning an important game on the university’s competitive e-sports team, and even depressed for a whole week after the audio file for one of his song covers vanished.

Not once did he shed tears.

Imagine your surprise then, when you find him sitting on the couch one afternoon with red-rimmed eyes and two empty beer cans on the table.

You don’t say anything at first. Gritting your teeth in anticipation of the unknown, you head into your room as if it were a regular day, hanging your tote bag on a hook near the door. Robotically, you wash your hands and tie up your hair in the bathroom. When you finish, you head back out to the living room again to confront him.

When you pick up the half-empty can hanging lifelessly in his hand, he doesn’t even look at you. Even when you chug down the remaining drink and chuck it in the recycling bin, he doesn’t acknowledge you. It’s only when you sit by his side, leaning your head against his shoulder to join him in staring at the wall, do the first words fall from his lips.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, considering the light taste of beer that lingers there. Beer wasn’t your thing, but you had to stop him from drinking so much.

“No. You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” you admit, pressing your cheek deeper into his oddly comfortable shoulder-- a given due to how diligently he works out recently. You can’t remember the last time you were this close to him, with the smell of his detergent so tantalizingly perceptible. It’s familiar in the way that you recognize it immediately as him, but foreign in that it’s rarely this upfront against your senses. He’s radiantly warm, but his frame is shaking as he tries to hold in his cold sadness.

With a shaky breath, he fiddles with the zipper of his windbreaker for a few seconds before choking, “Yuna’s been cheating on me.”

Eyes wide, the words catch in your throat. It almost feels as if your heart has fallen to the pit of your stomach at his confession. Cycling through confusion, anger, and hurt, all you can do is swallow thickly to counter the tightness growing in your throat. You wanted to cry, yet you felt selfish for wanting to do so. The pain you felt probably paled in comparison to what Jungkook’s experiencing. You knew that she was his first love, and when the kid loved he loved.  

A cold laugh expels out of your mouth in response to the absurdity of it all, and suddenly everything made sense. Of course the only way such a happy-go-lucky boy can be reduced to a tearful shell of himself is from the inside—from someone he trusted who ruined him. You think you hate Yuna, but you hate yourself more for being unable to do anything for him.

“Guk, that’s her fucking loss then.”

The words fall from your lips, heavy and full of spite. They taste bitter, and suddenly you wish you hadn’t finished that beer. Everything felt so wrong, the boy who deserved the world had his heart trampled on and you were stuck as the girl who couldn’t mend it for him. When he finally lets the dam break and begins crying again, the small sobs that wrack his chest almost splinter you in two. He tries to hide his face from you, and you instinctively reach out towards him. You hold him around his waist as he cries, your face buried in his left shoulder. Unwilling to speak further, you do the only thing you know how to. You wait for him.

It’s late in the evening when Jungkook finally talks to you again. He seems exhausted, his cheek pressing against the top of your head in defeat. With your chin perched on his shoulder, you bite your lip in contemplation. Plans form in your head, but you don’t ask for Jungkook’s input on them. You needed Yuna to know how disgustingly vile she was for choosing this avenue instead of simply ending things with him, because you were sure as hell Jungkook didn’t make it clear for her.

“Y/N?” his soft inquiry breaks you out of your thoughts.

Doing a little drumroll on his thigh with your pointer fingers, you hum in response, “Yeah?”

“Do you think she loved me?”

The question catches you off-guard. Yuna had been his first girlfriend, and he spent a lot more time away from the apartment after meeting her. You still saw him frequently enough, and from your experiences with her she genuinely appeared to enjoy Jungkook’s company. She did occasionally give him a hard time for living with you, but other than that the two of you respected the other as important figures of Jungkook’s life.

“She did. She loved you,” you admitted. Perhaps her love paled in comparison to the natural, compassionate affection he gave her, but you knew well-enough that anyone could tell the two had shared a mutual affinity for the other. You wonder if your answer was the one he wanted.

He seems to mull over this idea, his fingers wearing at a loose thread on the rips of his jeans. As he does this, you brush some of his hair away from his forehead. A few strands were stuck to his forehead dejectedly. His eyes are puffy with the amount of crying he’d done today and it takes you an extraordinary amount of willpower not to find Yuna and give her a piece of your mind then and there.

“I’m not okay,” he admits, and you can’t help but lift up his face to look at you directly.

“You don’t have to be.”

That night, he doesn’t want to sleep alone. He tugs at your wrist with an unspoken question and you knew you would stay with him until he could fall asleep. That was the type of relationship you held with him, knowing what the other needed before having to ask.

As you tuck him in bed, you turn off the lights except for a single desk lamp near his computer on the lowest brightness setting. You open the textbook for your Introduction to Marketing class and begin to read the latest chapter. Occasionally, you glance over at Jungkook to see how he’s faring. Thirty minutes pass and he’s still staring at the same spot on the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep?” you set your book down and ease off his gaming chair. Doing a few stretches as you approach the side of his bed, you plop down on the corner of the mattress and pinch his nose.

He grabs your hand off his nose and pulls you closer to him. Surprised but not uncomfortable, you let him guide your arm across his chest in an awkward half-hug. A dejected sigh comes from the poor boy, and you change your position to hold him better. You’re still laying atop his blankets, but you lie on your side and begin running your fingers through the locks of hair closest to you. He finally closes his eyes at your touch, and you wish you could smooth out the frowning corners of his lips.

Maybe the two of you were never actively aware of it, or even considered telling the other you loved them, but in that moment the words blossomed across your tongue. You wanted him to know that you loved him after all these years of watching him grow from a mischievous boy to a responsible man. You wanted him to know that it wasn’t his fault—that he couldn’t have done anything different to change the outcome. You wanted him to know that he deserved so much more than this.

You couldn’t say it though. Why couldn’t you say it?

In the midst of your thoughts, you fingers had stopped their ministrations in his hair. Jungkook takes note of this and turns to look you in the eyes. His cheeks are splotchy, the rims of his overworked eyes swollen from the abuse they’ve endured today. Even then, you couldn’t say those words.

“Thank you Y/N,” he gives you a smile he can barely muster, and you know he’s doing it to cheer you up.

You close your own eyes so you don’t have to look at his face any longer. It made you feel utterly useless and weak with swirling emotions you couldn’t pinpoint. It confused you and you hated feeling out of control.

If he kept caring for you, even while he suffered, you felt like you would say something…do something you shouldn’t.

You slip your hand under the blankets to grab his. When he gives your hand a squeeze, you know he believes that you’re doing this to comfort him. Instead, you know that you’re being selfish, holding onto him to ground yourself from doing something you couldn’t be responsible for.

Damn, you really are a fool.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

<< previous || masterlist || next >>

[gumnut-logic]

The dyin’ slob

This is @the-lady-razorsharp ‘s fault as she pointed a post out this morning.

Was called ‘Cruel to be kind’ but found a better title.

A little fluffy Virgil and Gordon. I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil hurried through post-flight. The rescue had been a simple one, fortunately. he had been able to manage it on his own and in the shortest time possible. There were matters at home he would be more comfortable seeing to in person.

Sure, there was nothing serious to be concerned about.

He told himself that as he lowered Two’s hatch and leapt onto the concrete hangar floor.

Really, it was only a flu.

One that had kept his helmet on the entire rescue. God forbid if he transmitted anything to people already in dire straits with their health.

Fortunately, standard procedure kept both him and their equipment bug free.

He still didn’t like it.

Removing his helmet was bliss itself as he strode into the lockers. A few breaths later he had his uniform, baldric and all, stashed what needed stashing and chucked the rest in the laundry.

The hot shower was absolute bliss.

So okay, there may be some aching muscles, but the exosuit had been needed. He could handle it.

He didn’t luxuriate in the water, he had more important things to attend to.

A towel and a loose jumpsuit later and he was padding barefoot up into the depths of the villa in search of the one brother who had been on his mind the entire rescue.

He found him in his bedroom.

The holoprojector was projecting some kind of fish and there was music blaring...well, it could be called music, he guessed. It sounded more like recycling bin lids being smashed together or that time Two had dropped that pod onto the hangar floor from twenty metres up.

His brother lay prone on his bed, eyes closed, brow wrinkled, skin pale.

Virgil fished the remote out of a limp hand and hit the kill switch.

The sudden silence was a blessing.

“Wha-?” Bleary eyes opened and sought out the cause. “Birg?” A slow blink. “Whatcha do that for? Pu’ it back on!” A hand flailed for the remote and missed.

“Gordon, you were told to rest.”

“Don’ wanna. Wanna die active.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’re not dying. You have the flu.”

“Dyin’. Tell Penny I love her.”

It was at this point Virgil realised the state of the room. “What the hell have you been doing?” There were food wrappers, crumbs and a smeared slice of cake on the bedcovers.

“Last meal. Wanna go out ‘appy.”

“If you’re eating, you’re on the mend.” Which was a good thing and had Virgil feeling immeasurably better, but his brother’s bed was a rubbish tip and definitely a health hazard. His fingers darted over the covers, nabbing wrappers and several empty crisp packets. “You are a slob.”

“I’m a dyin’ slob. I live an’ die true to my nature.”

“You can say that again.” Virgil grabbed a recycle bin and a pair of latex gloves and began shovelling crap off his brother’s bed.

“Hey, that was still goo’.”

Virgil eyed the half eaten pancake with congealed cream. “Perhaps, if you want to add food poisoning to your death certificate.” It was tossed into the bin. “Where did you get pancakes from anyway?”

“Stash. Emergency stash. I’ secret.” Gordon flopped in a dramatic way. Particularly dramatic since he was still lying down.

An arched eyebrow. “Sure.” But the next wrapper contained the remains of a stick of Blackpool Rock.

Virgil held it up, examining it. “Gordon, is this mine?”

Foggy brown eyes peered up at him. “Oh.”

“Gordon! Penny gave them to me.”

“But I wanted some.” It was such a whine, it was painful.

“Then why didn’t you ask her to get you some?”

The grump that appeared on his brother’s face was almost comical. It would be more comical if Virgil wasn’t holding back the urge to add strangulation to his brother’s supposed death certificate.

As it was, Gordon’s mumbled response was a clear indication that he had asked Penny for some Rock, but had been denied in some manner.

Hence the thievery.

Virgil sighed. “You could have ordered your own.”

“Not the same.”

“But stealing mine is?”

“You don’t mind. You’re a softy and I’m sick.” Yes, that was definitely a childish pout.

“I’m a softy, huh?” He must remember to disprove that allegation and seek the appropriate revenge.

After his brother was better.

Virgil sighed.

Gordon knew him far too well.

“You suck.”

“I’m dyin’ here.”

Virgil shoved a slice of cake in the bin, followed by three more empty crisp packets and a cookie wrapper. For god’s sake, the rescue had only taken him an hour. How much could one flu-ridden aquanaut eat?

There was raspberry jelly in a big blob sitting in a crease of doona fabric. For a split second, his mind registered it as blood and his heart skipped a beat.

“Gordon!”

“Wha-?”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wa’ accident.”

“You could have cleaned it up.”

“Can’t. Dyin’”

Oh, for crying out loud. “You’ll need to get out of bed and change the sheets.”

“Why?”

Virgil pulled back the edge of the doona to uncover his brother for some motivation only to find that a worm of spray cheese was curled up beside him.

“My god.”

“Wha-?”

“Gordon, get out of bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to change the sheets.”

“Why?”

“Because you are disgusting, that’s why.”

“Don’ wanna. Dyin’.”

Oh, he was getting closer to dying by the moment. Fratricide. Definitely fratricide.

“Move your ass or lose it.”

“No.”

“Gordon.”

“Let me die in peace.” And as if to prove the point, his brother coughed a little and then burst into a horrendous fit, possibly attempting to turn his lungs inside out.

Virgil’s heart softened as he held his little brother. “C’mon, Gordon, relax. Calm your breathing.”

Gordon let out a decidedly childish whimper and curled up under the rancid covers in a ball of misery.

Another attempt. “Let’s get you out of those bedclothes and into something clean. You will feel so much better.”

Gordon grunted. “Leeme ‘lone. Dyin’.”

Virgil straightened up, his back creaking. A sigh. Okay, they were going to have to do this the hard way.

Just like any mission, Virgil gathered his tools first. Fresh sheets, a spare doona, pillow and pillow case. He stacked them up in strategic positions beside his prone and still moaning brother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of bed, so I can change the sheets? You do realise I have a duty of care. One that means I have to make sure you don’t expire due to exposure to your own swill.”

“I’m not a pig.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

“You hur’ m’ feelings.”

“Too bad. Get out of bed.”

“No.”

“Gordon...”

“No. Lemme die in peace.”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

He didn’t give his brother a chance to question that before ripping off the disgusting doona and throwing it across the floor. Gordon yelped and curled up. He was only wearing pyjama shorts in typical Gordon fashion.

“Virgil!”

Without another word, he stripped the sheets from beneath his brother, whisking them away not unlike a magician removing a tablecloth from under fine china.

Gordon still yelped.

The pillow was chucked and with some determined aquanaut manipulation, the bottom sheet was replaced. Gordon squirmed under his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What needs to be done.”

The pillow was replaced and the new doona gently laid down.

Gordon grabbed at it as if it might suddenly disappear on him again.

“There, done. Please try to keep them clean this time otherwise I’ll do that all over again.”

“You are cruel.” Gordon glared a teary glare up at him.

Virgil grunted. “Yeah, well, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m dyin’. Give me a break.”

Virgil snorted and piled all the discarded bedclothes together and threw them down the laundry chute. He must remember to put in some serious germ killers in with that lot.

“Go to sleep, Gordon. You will feel better, I promise.”

“Hate you.” His little brother curled up into a ball of misery.

“Yeah, sure you do.” He couldn’t help himself, he reached out and brushed Gordon’s hair back from his forehead. He was a lot cooler than he had been earlier.

Thank god.

“You’re getting better. Get some sleep.”

Gordon mumbled something into the sheets and closed his eyes.

Virgil brushed his hair again, gently stroking his fingers against wavy strawberry blond.

He didn’t leave until his little brother’s breathing dropped into the regularity of sleep.

A small smile to himself and he headed towards the door.

Tripping on a stray soda can, he nearly fell flat on his face, barely catching himself on the edge of a desk.

His hand landed in something sticky.

Oh, god.

He bit back his brother’s name as he stalked out.

Disinfectant.

A hose.

Maybe Two’s water cannon.

Yes, his water cannon.

It would solve so many problems.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Problem Solved

Cassandra

Jae strolled onto the bridge, raised its right arm, shot the corporate woman with its energy weapon, and then collapsed. So did Tatiana, for obvious reasons.

Serenity politely informed me that the medical cubicle was spun up and ready, and it was a matter of deciding which of the three unconscious people in the room needed it the most. Thankfully, Kris revived enough to groan and start cursing — always a good sign — and the smart first-aid kit that normally hung out on the bridge rolled in his direction automatically.

I rushed over and kneeled beside him, knees slamming against the floor in my clumsy efforts to keep from accidentally jostling my second-in-command. “Oh deity, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he hissed. “She missed anything vital with that kick, but fuck!” He tried to look around without moving and then sighed. “What the fuck happened after I passed out?”

“Jae happened, mostly.”

It had been a blur. The corporate asshole took Kris out with a well-placed kick, grabbed the weapon he’d originally taken from her, and then leveled it at me. I had just enough time to raise my hands when the SecUnit shot her in the chest.  

I was already getting up when Kris asked, “Is it all right?”

Halfway across the room, I stoked the back of Jae’s hand. “The connection is still active, but it’s barely responding. I think its governor disabled it, but there’s so much extraneous data.” I turned to look at the construct. Sending it direct commands wasn’t working. “You’re going to be OK, Jae. I promise.”

“And the supervisor?” Kris wanted to know.

He’d managed to sit up some, and the first-aid kit was fussing over him. I really hoped a scan would confirm the ‘nothing vital damaged’ diagnosis because the last thing I needed was for my XO to pass out again, or worse.

“Conscious, I think.” I glanced in her direction and saw the burned clothes that barely covered her chest. “But I doubt she’ll be moving soon.”

Kris nodded and groaned again. “Disarm her first and then search her pockets. Then let’s restrain her so that this doesn’t happen again.”

“I think she needs medical attention.”

I really, really didn’t want to prioritize the corporate, not after the stunts she pulled, but she was human and I wasn’t a monster. Kris waved his hand to indicate reluctant agreement and pulled himself into a chair. He wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, even with the mobile MedSystem tool doing its best to relieve his pain.

I found the override in the woman’s pocket and chucked it into the recycler. Serenity didn’t have a fancy all-in-one device so I couldn’t do the same with the gun, not without possibly breaking something. So I shoved the damn thing into a cabinet and then hoisted the well-dressed corporate onto a gurney.

“Can Jae hear us?” Kris asked me.

“Probably.” My hands were shaking, and the rush of adrenaline had been replaced with overwhelming exhaustion. “It’s not dead or unconscious, but I can’t properly communicate with its governor without Serenity. It’s going to take me at least an hour to undo whatever the fuck it’s doing. Especially since the unit’s feed is disabled.”

“You take care of Tat, and I will keep SecUnit company until you return.” The man sighed like he was accepting the inevitable. “The faster we get her squared away, the faster we can take Jae and leave.”

“Do you think she was telling the truth? About what she can do?”

“I don’t know.” Kris frowned and looked at the communications panel next to him. A moment later, he let out a surprised laugh. “Shit, Cass, it warned the other ships. Impressively so, actually.” He grabbed an interactive interface and slipped it on. “I’m going to give them the rest of the details and ask them to take the injured human.”

I headed to Medical with the gurney in tow. “Never threaten my ship or crew again,” I told the unconscious woman. “The urge to throw you out an airlock… you have no idea.”

[popculturebuffet]

Jake Reviewcaps Stuff: X-Men Evolution: The X-Impulse

Two of the series most popular characters, and one of its’ more popular ships: Jean and Xavier try to lead kitty away from charming asshole Avalanche whose trying to use her for crimes, but have trouble due to having taken stupid pills before this episode. Meanwhile Kurt and Scotty follow Logan as he confronts Sabertooth for the first time and gets cars thrown at him. No really. Abusive Romance, Flying Cars, and probable Gilmore Girls refrences under the cut. 

So yeah i’m doing another one already. This pace MIGHT slow eventually, as I want to get through the show faster.. but this episode gave me a ton of material to work with so I wanted to strike while the iron was hot. So as I mentioned last time the show started with slowly shoveling characters in one at a time, giving each time for focus and to breathe a bit. So with Nightcrawler and Toad out of the way it’s time for Shadowcat and Avalanche.. who happen to be one of the biggest ships for this show.. and also one some don’t like. Me, i’ll form an opinon as I go as I don’t remmeber much of them together other than him trying to join the x-men in one episode, so we’ll see. For now it’s time for some X-Impulse. Wait isn’t impulse dc? Is there a marvel character named that too? 

Yup there is! Two in fact, but somehow one is x-men related. This is impulse a member of the Shiar imperial guard I entirely forgot about because there’s like 40 or 50 diffrent members and he’s not one of hte more promeinet ones. For those who’ve never heard of these guys there the elite superpowered muscle for the Shiar Empire, an intergalactic empire whose former empress Charles Xavier dated for a while after dethroning her brother and who serve either as allies to our heroes or people for them to beat up depending on if someone sane is in charge that day or not, and who often have members killed to show off some new baddy, hence why there’s been three impulses apparently.

 Their based on the less military, more heroic and more fleshed out if still hugely sized,  legion of superheros from dc, which Guard co-creator David Cockrum was one of the  most famous artists for and originally actually CREATED Nightcrawler as a legionnaire, but he was rejected for being too demonic and thankfully recycled into the rougish religious elf we know today. The Guard were as far as I can tell made as a wink and a nod toward that and a gentle jab at the competition and is far from the first or last time either side would make characters based on the other side. I also bring up the Shiar because despite being a sizeable part of the X-Men mythos in the comics.. they’ve BARELY been used outside them. Cartoon wise only the 90′s series used them, though to be fair....

Given Evolution had both hinted at exterterstials apparently, and was planning on doing the Phoenix Saga in season 5, so they MIGHT have used them eventually, but I somehow doubt it and WOlverine and the X-Men didn’t live long enoguh to even consider it. As for the movies they were considered too ungrounded for them and thus were basically exiled from appearing on film for 20 years. Now the Shi’ar aren’t perfect characters, the fact before he took the throne himself Gladiator would just obey whatever assshole took the reigns due to some misguided loyalty didn’t help, but they could be used intrestingly and the guard are at least intresting in a fight, so it is a shame they couldn’t be used till recently and hopefully with the fox merger the mcu will put them to use at some point. Also for those curious if they showed up in any other cartoons.. nope. According to wikipedia, their mentioned in Avengers; Earth’s Mighteist Heroes (Which will also be covered here some day) and Legion (probably too though also probably not episode by episode if I do), and show up in two of the video games, with Ultimate Alliance being the biggest role outside of the 90′s cartoon from the looks of it, having the well, alliance, head to shiar space to get the mkrann crystal and battle with the guard and deathbird. Anyway, i’ve spent enough time on this weird sidebar, let’s get on with the actual episode!  We open with a pretty good scene. We meet Kitty Pryde, your average teen whose having a weird flying nightmare.. emphasis on weird as it is a bit wonky, but the idea is fine enough.. as is the result where she finds herself having fallen to the basement and FELT it, her panicked parents coming down and Kitty only being able to sob about having fell, her mom putting it off to sleepwalking.. until her dad notices her pillow and blanket fused into the celing above, which only makes the poor girl more upset. It’s a good, tense scene and a reminder that wether your mutant powers are benign or not.. having them awaken can still be traumatic as hell, and uses this world NOT having them be a public concern well: Kitty has NO IDEA what’s happening to her, no one to turn to and is understandabily terrified. For all she knows her body is breaking down and she might not be tangible again, not an unresonable fear given her comics counterpart once ended up in that very situation due to taking some heavy damage in battle from an energy charged harpoon.. from a guy named harpoon because even Claremont had an off day with names sometimes. My point is it’s a very good scene. Naturally Charles notices from cerebro.. and with a weird computer thing that somehow fully researchs who she is because tha’ts not creepy, but It is somewhat understandable. Cue the credits.  We then get a REALLY pointless throwaway scene with Kurt, now having’ been at school for long enough to be late several times apparently, late again and running into Mystique, in her guise as principal before Scott thankfully rescues him. Why Mystique is confronting her son like this I dunno, but what I really don’t is why this scene is here at all. It could’ve easily been replaced with a throaway line about Charles only wanting to have one student miss midterms or not wanting to arouse too much suspcion with the facultiy by taking too many of the kids out of school. Instead we just get this scene to establish their home. And yes they could’ve just needed to fill out the episode.. but there’s plenty of ways, that i’ll mention later, this minute of screentime could’ve been used better and we really didn’t need a whole scene of them to set up that they’d be home for their subplot this episode.  Back in scene’s that actually matter, Kitty is trying to sneak off to school but her mom stops her, with her family apparently having agreed to keep her home but Kitty just wants some normalcy and her family won’t even talk about it, so her mom relucntantly agrees. I can’t blame Kitty: even if it’s a terrible idea to go to school while she has no idea what’s happening to her and can’t control it as far as she knows.. she’s also a scared kid whose body is changing in ways she can’t fully grasp, and unlike puberty, which mutation is a mild metaphor for, there’s no deep years of study on it or how it changes a body: she has no idea what’s going on and just wants to grasp onto SOMETHING normal while she’s clearly not. It’s some well done character stuff.  Meanwhile  Jean and Chuck are on their way to what i’m assuming is that same old place, sweet home Chicago since that’s where Kitty is from in the comics and they had to fly there anyway. Jean questions why her.. out of the three junior x-men so far she’s the least intresting. Charles explains he thinks she can reach Kitty which.. makes some sense. Jean is uber popular at school, easy to get along with and endlessly nice, so she’s a good choice. Another likely part of it, and why not scott, is scott’s powers: it’s a lot easier to sell her parents on powers doing good with someone who can lift objects versus someone whose constantly cursed to never open his eyes, and this way kurt has his buddy back home so he dosen’t feel lonely his first time without his new dad. Now granted I question why STORM didn’t come with them, as she seems like a good choice and it’d be a nice nod to her bond with kitty in the comics, but I suspect it was simply easier to just have two x-men to focus on. Maybe she was busy getting Evan for two episodes down the line...

So then we get.. Charles being really, REALLY dumb.. like out of character dumb. See in the comics when the X-Men came to recurit kitty, they all came in civlian clothes, though ironically Jean wasn’t with them for the initial meeting because even more ironically she, Scott and Kurt were split off into their own group to try and recruit Dazzler, and Charles was nice and polite about it and promoted the school as well. a school. Granted Kitty’s parents didn’t know about her phasing here and Emma Frost was also trying to recurit kitty for HER school for gifted youngsters.. but still, there’s NO reason for Charles not to use that sort of pitch to get into the door, especially since as we learn in the scene after this Kitty’s a straight A student, retaining her deep intelgence from the comics, so there’s an easy foot in the door before he drops the mutant part in. Instead he just casually mentions he tracked her that he’s diffrent and comes off really fucking creepy and naturally they say fuck no to that. LIke.. how do they know he’s not with the goverment or forming a teen militia or just a pedophile who happens to be a mutant.. they do not and their already scared. So chuck gets a well earned door to the face. And thus I get to introduce a new running gag: The Chuck, you Blockhead, Count,. Now granted the obvious name may be the xavier is a jerk count, which i’ll probably also do but that’s more for being an asshole, like he often is due to poor writing or currently pragmatisim in the comic. No no this is for when Chuck is just out an out an idiot. Plus I love a good Charlie Brown refence so Chuck,  You Blockhead Count: 2 It’s at 2 since we also have last episode where Toad showed up with his own uniform, and attacked kurt.. and Charles did nothing and questioned nothing about that. And now I mentioned that other count Xavier is Jerk Count: 1 The Scott thing is more in character but for having his test be.. have a grown woman chase a teenager with Lightning. Storm was involved too but I doubt she’ll be an asshole as much so she’s safe for now. So having throughly botched it Xavier decides to have them split up, gang: Xavier will go to social services to find out more about lance since he’s an orphan, while Jean will infiltrate the school. Now while watching this I questioned why no one in school at all questioned a random teenager they never met roaming the halls.. but odds are jean just used her telepathy to either make anyone who saw her think she belonged there or masked her self from them seeing her, the latter being a signiture move of both jean and her teen self brought to the present because complicated bollocks, so fair enough. I also thought charles was just fucking off but accoridng to the wiki he was at social services, so he avoids another count and was doing something useful, checking on lance before he tries to offer him a spot: both to make sure he’s a good fit after last week’s debacle and figure out the best course to legaly take the boy in if so, and if not knowing charles still find the kid a home anyway because even if he’s not x-man yet, he’s still a child in need asshole or not and Charles is a good man. Such a good man he had to be told 9 timelines ended in utter disaster and ruin for mutantkind for him to even humor breaking from his dream according to recent comics, and according to Moira’s notes STILL took a good 15 years in universe of attempted genoicdes , 1 actual genocide and his people being reduced to a nub to finally cave and even THEN he admits he still loves humanity and wants them to be better. While I did put up an xavier is a jerk count just now at his best Charles Xavier is a good if flawed man who, while prone to ocasionally making utterly terrible decisions, loves both humans and mutants and just wants peace in our time and only created the x-men to foster it.  Meanwhile back at the ranch her mansion, Logan.. senses sabertooth.. I mean even with Logan’s adept sense of smell, I question how he could smell him over the exaust of Sabertooth’s goofy metalic penis, aka his own motorcycle, but it IS part of his mutant powers. Either that or they just have a magic force bond like Rey and Kylo Ren in the sequel trilogy.. minus the sexual tension and forced face turn for the latter.. maybe just minus the forced face turn. So Logan prepares to go fight his rival, and suits up for the first time. and while it’s in a black void for.. some reason it looks REALLY badass and really gives gravatas to seeing wolverine in costume for the first time. And since he’s one of ONLY two looks to look at this episode, since Kitty and Lance don’t get their uniforms this episode, let’s talk about it. 

I fucking love it. Like Kurt’s it’s basically his comic’s costume but slightly modified.. but unlike Kurt it’s a diffrent costume than last time, going with his cool brown look that he wore for quite some time in the comics, though made a bit more orange. However it honestly STILL looks fantastic and I get wanting to go with a color that’s a bit more eyepopping in the more muted tones of Evolution. It just looks fantastic and i’ts nice to see a cartoon use an alternate costume for a character as their main look.   Logan passes a returning from school Scott and Kurt, who decide to follow him and after debating which car, Scott gestures them to his.. which is scott’s sports car from bot the previous series and the comics. Why a 17 year old has this, I can only assume because Chuck is a really good dad, really rich.. and likely knows having a bunch of teenagers around means if one of them DOSEN’T have hteir own car they’ll be borrowing his rolls royce all the time and this way he can have his nights after training free to smoke a blunt with logan while they watch the next generation and eat a pile of cheeseburgers the children dropped off while crusing around out of his lack of hair, you know why you give your teenager a car in the first place. 

Anyways while Kurt and Scott buddy up and go on an excellent adventure, with Kurt even bamfing inside and god I love this dynamic. So fucking adorable. But anyways while that’s going on, Kitty is at school being mocked by two alpha bitches for being sad despite her grades then is shoved in a locker. When then meet Lance, soon to be known as avalanche and the other mutant at school who decides to graffito tag the place.. in the laziest but somehow still coolest way possible by just taking his spray can and spraing one long streak along the lockers. Not as neat as doing an actual tag but it does more petty dumbfuckery faster so fair play to him.  Kitty begs him to let her out.. before her powers trigger again. She tries denying it when he comments on them being cool.. before he shows off his own, making the earth move under his feet, though not the sky tumbling down a tumbling down.. that’s Storm’s job. It shakes the lockers and Kitty rather than be impressed, runs like hell. But yeah, I get the feeling, even with him having evil plans for her right after.. that he does feel some attraction to her here. And as I made clear i’ts not shipping goggles.. the way he acts.. he’s elated to meet someone else with powers, to after likely being pinballed around foster care and treated like shit by his piers over it and then finding out he has a special power but is still seen as a weirdo even by his minons.. he’s elated. It’s what draws him to her: that for once he’s NOT alone, and there’s someone else to revel in the sheer power and joy he feels using his powers and even though she runs he vows he’s gonan rock her world.  Since we’re where a commerical break would be, I figure now’s a good time to talk about Lance. In the comics he had a diffrent name entirely, and avalanche was more of a one note villian who later became a retired bar owner. Here he takes bits, the long metal hair and love of his powers, from Rictor, a more heroic mutant in the comics who only started out doing crimes because he was forced to and quickly joined the original x-men’s class of mutants the x-terminators before joining the new mutants and later x-force. He’s also , as you probably know, one fo the x-men’s most prominent gay mutants, but while hinted at in comics made before this series was fully canonized years after, and like iceman who came out even later, there was no way of knowing that at the time, so it made since to use him as partial template here. It also makes sense not to use the rictor name as while it makes more sense given the earthquake motif, Avalanche is an actual villian.. and you know the obvious fact that Lance is white and Julio Richter.. is not.  Granted they COULD’VE made him latino, and used sunspot for spike to ballnce it out representation wise, but this was the early 2000′s and they cared about as much for repesentation as Jeph Loeb does. Hopefully Rictor gets an adpatation at some point outside of Logan, but I get why not here. 

On with the show. Kitty shows up late for track due to thing one and thing two, and has to run first and trips, while on the nearbye rooftops Lance and his two goons try to break into the administration building to get test answers. They don’t as Lance notices an alarm, and while one of his goons asks why he dosen’t just quake a hole in, Lance points out the obvious: If there’s obvious tampering they’ll just change the test answers.. and since he knows about kitty now, he has a better way and when questioned rather than explain her powers, he just shakes rattles and rolls. He also makes one of Kitty’s bullies trip but it only scares her further. I”m getting. serious heathers vibes here jesus.. I mean Lance isn’t nearly as bad as Jason Dean but still jesus. I need to listen to more of that musical good stuff. 

Kitty retreats from her admierer/stalker to teh autitorim, where Jean finds her.. given Jean again slipped in here without no o ne noticing and no one came after kitty , i’m thinking she use her telepathy to mask anyone from seeing Kitty come in and seeing Jean at all so she could talk in private. Granted Lance shows up right after, but odds are Jean didn’t notice him and thus didn’t think to shield him and probably isn’t up to Charles level where he can create a psychic blindspot in an entire crowd. Anyways Jean tries to comfort kitty who’s still angsting about her powers and again hard to blame her when the only other mutant she’s met is a budding psychopath whose idea of a romantic gesture is injuring one of her enmiies for her. Jean does try to calm her down, first showing she’s a mutant and admitting she was freaked out too when she got her powers.. and given most depcitions of jean getting her powers are far from plesant that tracks. She does however make the mistake of telling Kitty, already figuring this is some sort of trick and jean will throw a puppy across the room to also try and get in her pants or something, that she’s a telepath and Kitty screams at her to get out of her head. Jean truly is taking after her mentor in thef ucking up department. Lance then shows up as I mentioned earlier, and tells Jean to backoff and that’ she’s mine and you get it. Oh and as a side note Jean DOES admit to having read Kitty’s mind so she CAN read minds, and likely has gotten a surface level look of duncan’s thoughts which I feel go a little something like this mnus the actual context of when the song’s going on. 

Lance then finds kitty, whose changed into her regular outift and promises not to use his powers this time, admitting he too felt lost and scared, and wants to help her take control and help her.. and while it is partly for his own petty scheme.. I do genuinely think he means part of that, that he does genuinely wnat her and want someone like him by his side.. it’s just in his warped head doing crime and whatever he wants is the right thing to do, that control means using this power to knock down whoever’s in your way and TAKE what you deserve. 

Jean instead phones xavier and both agree that if lance fully gets his hooks in her they might never reach her and Xavier tells him to stay on her and that she can overcome lance as an obstacle.. and then bemoans that some obastacles are more annoying than others as the social services building has a large stone staircas,e a nice quip and they beat the ulitmate universe to that joke by a few years. 

Meanwhile our two best buds track Wolvie to a car park because fuck if I know why he decided to make his stand there. Probably because the writers had a cool action scene in mind as we’ll see, but it still comes off dumb though given how every other x-man has been acting this episode it tracks. Anyway Sabertooth strolls up on his demonic wang-shang-a-lang, 

Seriously I mocked it before but it bears repeating. While Wolvie has a normal looking, if still badass, bike Sabertooth’s.. looks like something Skeltor would ride after he man. It Looks like warlock is horribly stucki n the form of a motorcycle. It looks like the kind of bike on some random asshole the bikers from sons of anarchy would beat up forposing. It looks like he stole it from the biker mice from mars. It looks like the polution from it’s exaust alone is the reason big bird die. it looks like Creed just brought it off the joker and remonded it. It looks like something the battletoads bought and regretted. It looks like ghost rider’s first trike. it looks like Tooth lost his dick in a horrible acciden tand is compensating with theree metalic ones. It looks like something the BAND creed sold to victor creed here. It looks.. bad is what i’m saying.  As for his actual outfit.. it’s okay,b asically his movie outfit with osme of the skin missing. That look isn’t my faviorite of his but it works to sell him as a savage monster and fits good with the more tactical less comic booky looks of this shows costumes. 

Creed, the man not the band though  he does look like the lead singer of creed, charges at Logan who simply pops his wheel while tooth falls off the roof.. and then the most rediculous and awesome part of the episode starts.... right after Scott’s car gets hit with the bike because what else did he think was going to happen when the fighting started.  Sabertooth , who apparently has really good super strength in this universe, starts CHUCKING CARS UP THROUGH THE ROOF OF THE CAR PARK UP AT LOGAN. Points to the team while the setting for this fight is nonseical, it is WORTH IT for this, with great action as Logan dodges the cars bursting through the roof. it’s rediclous, over the top.. and UTTERLY spectacular and not just in a so bad it’s good way. Logan eventually slips through a car hole, a sentence i’d never thought i’d say mostly becasue that’s the moe syslack approved term for garages but it works well here too, and into the garage before sabertooth RAMS him with a car, ranting about it’s their “destiny” only one is left. Which seems like some weird “applying highlander logic to former goverment weapon mutants’ bollocks, but instead is foreshadowing for the end of the season. Nice touch. Scott and Kurt arrive, in uniform since even if he’s a bit more personably here, Scott still is no dummy, and they sucessfully save Logan, whose pissy about it because it was his buisness and all, but Kurt thinks he secretly loves them and Scott sarcastically agrees. Not a bad subplot and it makes up for a weird choice of battleground on logan’s cart iwth utter insanity. Fun stuff.  Back at not so fun stuff, Kitty finds lance outside the office and takes him up on his offer, and he admits they ARE outsiders, there is something wrong with them.. but instead of moping about it, they can do something about it and revel in it. It really ties into Lance as a character: He’s probably felt, due to being an oprhan and not having a stable home life likely buffeted around foster care and acting out as a result, that he really is an outsider and his powers not only proved it.. but finally gave him POWER over all the people that cast him out. The power to take what he wanted and return what he got. The power to move you. He finally had power and he was going to make them pay for making him feel like he had none and wants Kitty to join him. And for a moment it works, kitty joyfully breaking in with him and actually enjoying her powers for the first time. Meanwhile kitty’s parents showed up, Jean having called them and somehow got them to listen.. and this is what I meant by that one minute earlier. We COULD have built up Kitty’s parents guilt and fear by having Charles approach them again.. and with them panicked over her not returning from school, have him explain what happened and help her father see how wrong he’d been to hide from it or had her argue with her dad then storm out. Instead they just show up here for the first time in almost 20 minutes so we could get a filler scene of kurt being late. 

Anyways inside Lance steals the answers and Kitty is horrified to find out that “Gasp” the juvinele delinquent who hurt someone to impress her is doing BAD THINGS. Lance tries to change her grades but she refuses.. and then Jean and the Prydes show up, with Kitty’s dad admitting he was wrong, he shouldn’t of hid fro her power and shoudl’ve been a better parent.. better than her comics dad who got in bed with gangsters i’ll give him that. But Lance not wanting to loose his new sorta girlfriend knocks a bookcase on kitty and abusively tries to drag her with him.. while jean says if you go with him now, her powers will be a curse like she thought earlier... even though Kitty’s pretty terrified of lance right now and dosen’t actually want to go with him.  it comes off like this bit from final space played entirely seriously

So yeah apparently I need this too...: God Dammit Jean Count: 3 The other two are for the telepath thing earlier and the duncan thing last episode. And given the duncan thing is going to be going on till season 3 yeah i’ll need this. I’ll probably also need a WHAT DOES SHE SEE HIM HIM COUNT, but i’m playing that one by ear. But yeah kitty does the obvious and breaks it off and phases out and Lance takes it well.. by trying to destory the entire school.. my god this really is heathers! Did .. did lance kill some popular kids before this? I have questions. Jean struggles to hold things up and worries about kitty, who falls under some ruble but charles assures her to focus: She can do this.. and as we seen Chuck likely sensed kitty who phases out and reuintes with her parents before rescuing them all. Kitty realizes her powers are a gift after all and says the x-men have her best intrest and heart and Charles finally decides to have an actual discussion with the prydes which had he had one might’ve helped this episode go faster.  We then end on Lance, angry and hurt starring into the distance, when Mistque approaches in her principal disguise, saying there may be an opening for her and transforms ending with a great line “I have much to teach you, my avalanche”. Which ihs a better code name than Rictor when put like that credit where it’s do. And we’re out. Final Thoughts:  This one was a bit of a step down as you could tell: The main core of Lance and Kitty IS really strong, being a good way to breifly touch on toxic relationships. If this gets better in season 2 I have no idea but it’s a compelling dynamic here, with Kitty being terrified of her power while Lance loves his and both are what prop this episode up alongside the fun car park fight and great dynamic with Kurt and Scott. HOwever what drags the episode down is EVERYONE but Kitty and Lance, who act in character, and Scott and Kurt, who had no idea logan was going into combat and were just curious what their cool teacher was up to acts like a fucking moron: Logan, rather than pick a fighting ground where he has an advantage chooses one where sabertooth can easily use stealth and gives him an opening too as well as a garage full of weapons that nearly ends him, Xavier decides just randomly revealing he knows where they live wiill impress scared parents, Jean decides telling someone she’s in their head is a great idea, Kitty’s parents think not talking about the thing tht just happened will make it disappear, which is at least realistic if nothing else, and Sabertooth thought that was a valid choice for a motorcycle. The climax is good but feels unearned and overall this episode could've neen fantstic but is bogged down by bits of stupid, but is still enjoyable thanks to it’s emotional core. Next time, whenever that is, another popular charcter arrives as we go Rogue. Until then, follow for more reviews, like this if you enjoyed it, send asks iwth suggestions for more shows and episodes to cover and until then, stay safe and stay mutant and proud. 

[kutemouse]

Never Really Over

Disclaimers: I made and edited the above gif myself. That’s why I’ve used the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use, just please give me credit for the edit! I used some of the lines from Katy Perry’s lyrics to inspire and write this, but they belong to Katy.

So this imagine was inspired by the Katy Perry song “Never Really Over,” which, when I heard it for the first time, reminded me of the way my bias works. Yes, I am a Taehyung bias, but every two weeks or so, one of the other members of BTS wrecks me, and I mean WRECKS me to the point where I think, “This is it. This is when I change my bias.” But then Taehyung does something or posts a picture, and I instantly zip right back to him. I’ve been this way since I started stanning BTS, idk why, low-key, I think I’m secretly an OT7 fan.

Age Recommendation: 16+

Warnings: Sweeeeaaaaars (like always), ANGST with a happy ending, Taehyung being a sweetie-pie, no smut, might make a part two with smut idk, honestly, I hope this makes you laugh more than anything.

Word Count: 2,187

Summary: It had been two years since you broke up with Taehyung, and you were finally at the point where he stopped randomly popping into your head. But that didn’t stop him from randomly popping up on your social media, wrecking you into oblivion, and making you do stupid things.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Oh no. Not again. I’m not falling into this rabbit hole again, not today, not ever. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again, that I’d draw the line and never think of you again, and I did. Or so I thought.

I tentatively scrolled down my feed back to the video of you singing your heart out to a sea of adoring fans, feeling a twinge in my chest as your voice reverberated throughout the stadium. How I missed that deep rumble, the one that drew me out of sleep each morning with a chuckle and a kiss.

Shaking my head, I attempted to push all thoughts of you out of my head. I didn’t miss you. I didn’t miss anything about you, no-siree, I was over you. Ugh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t even go on the internet without seeing you. I was losing it.

“Fuck this,” I thought, standing up from the bench and heading towards my favorite cafe. The bell over the door tinkled, bringing a memory to the forefront of my mind.

We sat in the booth in the far corner so we could have as much privacy as the cafe would allow. “It’s happening, jagiya,” he murmured, taking my hand. “I’m going on tour. I won’t be back for nearly a year.”

“I know,” I muttered in reply, looking down at my lap. I couldn’t be angry, hell, I couldn’t even be sad. We both knew this was coming. Ever since BTS’s popularity shot through the roof, he’s been getting more and more busy, constantly at practice, song-writing, or travelling.

“Hey, we can make this work,” he said, his voice soothing over the pain I was beginning to feel. “I’ll always come back to you, jagi.”

He reached over and grasped my cup, taking a sip from it before squinching his eyes up cutely. I laughed and playfully grabbed for it back. “Hey, that���s mine!”

“I don’t even know how you can drink this,” he said, still grimacing. “Coffee is so bitter.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” I said, giggling.

“Miss?”

A voice brought me back to reality, and I blinked a couple times before looking at the barista. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

She gave me an amused smile. “I asked what you’d like to order.”

“Oh, uh… Hmmm, an iced Americano for today, thanks.”

“You got it. I’ll have it ready in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

I paid then sat down in a booth to wait, fiddling with my phone. My finger touched the fingerprint pad, powering on my screen to show that video once more. Cursing, I closed the app and jammed the thing back into my pocket.

“Miss? Your Americano is ready.”

I stood and took the cup from the girl, walking quickly back outside and sitting down on the bench again. I just couldn’t escape you. It’s like no matter what I did, you were there. You were always there… and not just because your face covered the internet the way clouds covered the earth. You were always in the back of my mind.

I felt my self-control slowly trickling away as I drew my phone out of my pocket, clicked it on, and opened a new message, typing in your name as the recipient. I never deleted your number, scared of breaking the last possible tie I had to you.

Ugh, no, stop. It’s done. It’s been done for two years now. I left my phone in my lap, trying and failing to concentrate on drinking my coffee instead. We parted amicably, with both of us acknowledging that our relationship was over due to you not being able to be the boyfriend I needed. Still, for weeks after we separated, I couldn’t help jumping every time someone knocked at my door, thinking it was you, or stopping guys on the street who even slightly resembled you. That had all faded away, though, so why were my nerves on fire once more?

Our relationship was terrible, or at least it was towards the end. You were constantly gone, and didn’t have time to call or video-chat me. You had to send me text messages on the down-low, scared your company would find out about us and force us apart, or that delulu fangirls would find out about me and come after me. We only spent time together twice in the last six months of our relationship, and I was beginning to get sick of explaining to my friends and interested guys why I was unavailable to date. The second time I saw you, you came over to my apartment wearing a mask, sunglasses, and a baseball cap.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically as he shed his disguise. “I had to circle the block a couple times… make sure I wasn’t followed.”

I threw my hands up. “This is insane!”

“What is?”

“This! This relationship! Taehyung, I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t normal!”

His mouth dropped open at my proclamation. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest and turning away.

Taehyung grasped my arms with his large, soft hands. “Please,” he said, his voice cracking. “Let’s just talk about this.”

And talk we did. For hours. And we both came to the same conclusion: That our relationship was no longer working and in order for us to both be happy, we needed to let each other go. I reached up and touched my lips, remember the way you kissed me for the last time. Hard and deep, with both large hands on either side of my face, you kissed me until my heart broke cleanly in two.

Yet, even after all the pain I went through, I was surprised to find myself missing you even weeks after our break-up. Yeah, we were a mess, but it was the best mess I’d ever been in. By the time I figured out that life with you in it, as seldom as that actually was, was still better than life without you entirely, it was too late. You had moved on, and were becoming one of the biggest names in k-pop, no, in the world, ever. I had moved on, too… or so I thought.

Sure, I dated other guys. I even had a relationship that lasted a good six months… but none of it ever felt right. I broke up with the guy after he hinted he wanted to move in together, realizing it would never feel right no matter how much I tried to force it.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and clicked it open, staring at your name at the top of the text. What would happen if I just sent a simple, “Hey?” I let myself indulge in my imagination, thinking about the way you’d ecstatically respond, instantly sparking a conversation and lighting up my deadened heart. After a few days of texting, you’d ask to video chat, and I’d see the face that cracked my heart and soul into pieces, but this time, you were intent on mending all that. You’d come over just like old times, and we’d spend night after night together, intertwined so close we practically become one… But then you’ll leave. Again. Work will call, or your manager, or one of the other members, and you’ll leave spouting useless apologies and empty promises. Then I’ll have to get over you again.

Draw the line, I told myself. Draw it. No more. Yet even as I was thinking it, the side of me that missed you put a toe over that line, inching towards completely diving headfirst into the shit show I knew we’d forever be.

I opened the social media app again and watched that video of you singing for the third time. “Fuck it,” I thought, switching back to my messaging app and typing out a message.

Me: Hey. Just caught myself thinking about you and wondered how you’ve been. I miss you.

I stared at it for a good thirty seconds, my thumb hovering over the send button the entire time. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed down, slowly opening them to see the circle going ‘round and ‘round, trying to send.

Wait, no. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t trip up after two whole years. I frantically tapped on the message, trying to delete it, but then the dreaded check mark appeared. Sent.

“Fuck!” I cried out, startling the closest passerby.

“Sorry,” I muttered, looking down at my lap, my cheeks flooding with warmth. How the hell had you trickled back in? I drew that line, I did, I did, but now I’d tripped up. I sipped from my coffee cup, keeping my eyes on my phone screen the entire time. Nothing. You were probably busy. Hell, you’d probably changed your number for all I knew.

With that thought comforting me, I threw my cup into the nearest recycling bin and began the five-minute trek back to my apartment. I spent the rest of the day distracting myself with studying, my fingers hovering over my phone every now and then, tempted to check it. At around the same time the sun was going down, my phone finally beeped and I snatched it up.

Damn. It was just my classmate asking a question about the essay we were assigned. I rolled my eyes and chucked my phone somewhere on the floor before flopping backwards on my bed. It was over. Has been for quite some time. I didn’t know why I expected anything more.

My phone beeped again, and I sat up so fast I made myself dizzy. It beeped again, and I yeeted myself off the bed and frantically began searching through the ocean of clothes that littered my floor. Shit, where did that damn thing go? I hadn’t chucked it that far, had I?

I dug through the random piles of my belongings, making even more of a mess as I hunted my phone down. It started ringing, and I whirled around at the sound, seeing my screen shine through a random tank top. I stumbled towards it, hands outstretched, and grabbed at it, the phone slipping through my hands like soap and falling back to the floor.

“FUCK!” I yelled out just before a knock at my door made me whip my head around.

Leaving the damn phone, I stumbled out of my bedroom and towards my front door, taking a second to run a hand through my curls in an attempt to smooth them down, before I whipped open the door.

My mouth dropped open in a gasp, eyes widening as I took you in, one hand still holding the phone to your ear, the other shoved sheepishly in your jean pocket. “Hi,” was all you said. Mouth still open like a gaping fish, I wordlessly stepped aside to let you in.

Closing the door behind you, I finally managed to get some words out. “How… Wait, why…?”

You chuckled, the buttery-smooth deep bass of your voice causing tingles to break out all over my body. “I got your text, Y/n.”

“Wait, was that… that was you calling?” I asked, my voice coming out strained. “Sorry I didn’t pick up, I was-”

“It’s fine,” you said, waving my apology off. “I know you’re probably busy… and honestly, I don’t know why I’m here other than the fact that I…”

You trailed off, and I swallowed, anticipating the dreaded words. You were here because you needed to remind me that we were done. That there was nothing between us anymore. That you had a girlfriend.

“That I… Well, that I miss you too.”

For the second time that evening, my mouth dropped open. “You what?” I squeaked.

You chuckled once more, but this time, you had a trace of uneasiness in your chocolate-brown eyes. “I miss you, you dork.”

I didn’t bother trying to speak anymore, I just acted. I rushed towards you, grabbing both of your cheeks, and kissed you with everything I had. You grunted in surprise before grabbing me by the waist, steadying both of our stances, and moving your lips around mine, fully kissing me back. The second we separated, you drew me back in, even going so far as to swipe a mischievous tongue over my bottom lip, causing me to groan in pleasure.

We finally pulled apart, panting a little, your eyes bright, a wide smile on your face. “It’s been two whole years, though,” I said.

“Yeah, and the entire time, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind,” you murmured, peppering light kisses along my cheek. “I won’t let you get away this time.”

I sighed and curled up against your chest, once again falling hard for the way my head seemed to fit perfectly in the crook of your neck, and the way your hands seemed to meld with my love handles. It was like we were made for each other.

Well then. I thought we were done, but I guess it’s never really over, is it?

[hilllsnholland]

Paper Airplanes

Pairing: College!Tom x College!Y/N

Wc: 2kish 

Warnings: swearing and tooth-rotting fluff :) 

Summary: You know all those cliches in movies? yeah well, this oneshot is full of them. So...check yes Juliet? 

There were many things on your to-do list today. Homework, filing papers, possibly getting lunch if you had time (which you did not). On your long list of things, getting hit in the eye with a paper airplane was not one of them. Your hand went up to feel the sensitive hit while the projectile fell into your lap. Luckily it didn’t hit your actual cornea, just the lid, but fuck that hurt. You looked around the office/lounge area to see who was the assailant, only to see Tom. 

“For fuck sakes Tom,” You whine and throw the plane back at him. 

“Sorry love, I just wanted your attention.” He laughs and picks the plane right out of the sky. “Need someone to keep your company?” 

He signaled to the very barren student lounge/event office space that you were currently in charge of. You had taken the job as a ‘student event assistant’ last semester, which basically meant you made posters for Uni events, in charge of student activity sign-ups, paperwork, and most important taking ID pictures. It was a very laidback job though, your desk sitting in the student lounge which was usually quiet. Most of your time was consumed getting homework done or watching Hulu. 

“As long as nothing else comes at my face,” 

“I can’t-“

“Holland, I swear to God.” You narrow your eyes and he laughs. 

“You know me too well Y/N,” 

Tom says as he knocks on the locked door of your desk area. Your desk was positioned in a smaller office room that was open to the lounge. It was easy access for you to talk to other students or for others to ask questions. Mainly it was a nuisance to walk around your desk and through the door, but you dealt with it. Tom grabbed a chair next to your desk and leaned back, feet propped up on your physics textbook as he relaxed. 

You rolled your eyes, shifting his feet off your books and placing them on the free area next to them. It took some time to get used to Tom’s pestering nature, but after meeting him last semester it became a fond friendship. Tom had come to the event office to ask if he could publish posters for his brother’s movie festival. You agreed and he went straight to playfully flirt with you. Nothing had happened though, which you were trying to not mind. Although his presence made your heart thump and palms sweat, you didn’t want to jump into some puppy dog love. 

“Who do you have for physics?” 

“Watanabe,” 

“Yikes. Good luck with that babes,” Tom flips through the book and raises his brow at you. “So, what time are you off?” 

You turn your clock towards you and saw it was 4:15. Forty-five minutes until freedom, and by that you mean watching your shows while eating pizza bites. 

“I get off at five,” You spin in your chair and Tom stops you with his foot. 

“You got plans?” 

“Do I ever?” 

Tom snickers and moves your chair between his legs, your feet bouncing off his. He bites his lip and looks beyond you. For a second you thought you were going to explode. Was Tom going to ask you out? Not only would that complete every dream and wish you’ve had ever, that would also give you something to do besides self-indulge. Tom stands up suddenly and looks down at you with that shit-eating grin he always has. 

“Can you retake my ID picture?” 

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows and Tom shrugs. 

“I lost my ID. Help a boy out,” He whines while grabbing the sides of your face. “I’ll make it worth your wild.” 

You feign a sighed ‘fine’ as you turn on the ID machine. Tom hops over the waist height counter and stands in front of the small white backdrop. You spin your seat around and play with the settings until it’s not a fuzzy mess of Tom’s face. 

“Hold on,” Tom fumbles with his pockets until he pulls out a pair of circular black glasses. 

Fuck, as if he couldn’t get any cuter. Your face is flushed as he adjusts them on his face. The frames are big but they make his brown eyes sparkle behind the glass. No way could they be real, he’s just toying with you at this point. Tom rubs his lips together, sliding his tongue between the pink lines and smirking at you. He knows he looks like a whole meal. Your mind wanders. It’s getting really hot all of sudden. Now all you can think of is how his glasses would look perched upon your-

“Nose?” 

“Huh?” 

“I said, do these glasses look too big for my nose?” Tom squints his eyes at you and you laugh off the lustful thoughts. 

“No, no you look good. Why do you want to wear glasses in your ID though?” 

“I want to look studious,” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

A flat ‘hmph’ leaves your lips as you raise three fingers in the air. Tom relaxes and shines that perfect smile towards the camera lens. You count down and click the camera to snap the most perfect photo you’ve ever seen. Tom can’t take a bad picture, can he? This sappy crush you have is becoming a little obsessive because now you can’t stop staring at his beautiful face. The machine chucks out the new ID and you hand it to him. 

“Picture perfect,” He muses and pulls out his wallet. “I also wanted to wear the glasses to see you get all red,” 

Your chair spins in his direction and you throw a pen at him. It misses by an inch, flying past his ear as he laughs at you. Tom leans on the counter, picking the paper airplane that he threw before. He plays with it, moving the nose across the desk until it’s running past your hand that’s sitting on the computer keys. He pretends to trace your hand with the makeshift toy, humming to himself. 

“So we’re going to go eat after or?” Tom hums with that stupid twinkle in his eye. 

“Sure, you want to go to the usual?” 

Main Street. It was a small, hole in the wall place in the downtown district near the Uni. They had the best sandwiches. Tom brought you there one evening after a job fair at school. You remembered it so vividly, down to where he carved your name into the window sill by your signature spot. Tom nods and drops the paper airplane back on the desk. He has been so fixated on that damn toy since he walked in here. It was close to driving you mad. 

“Are you going to recycle that or?” 

“Please. Y/N, I’ve been waiting for you to open the airplane since I got here.” Tom states in almost a watery tone. He was pleading to you with his eyes. “I’m dying here Y/N,” 

Tom was riled up, now pacing back and forth in front of you. No wonder he was acting so strange, whatever was in the airplane had him going crazy. His excitement, or dread, was causing his mood shifts which were more than usual. You grab the airplane and unraveled it from its original form. Every unfolded layer made you nervous. What the hell did he put in here that’s making him so jumpy? You see words appear on the page and with one final crease, it shows a small note. 

Dear Y/N, 

Be my girlfriend and fly away with me? 

At the bottom of the page it has two large boxes with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ written next to them. Tom’s signature was below that, his bubbly and perfect handwriting made it official. You didn’t respond. Was this a joke? Like, was Tom Holland really asking you out with a note? 

“Are you serious?” You laugh 

Tom doesn’t react. He’s biting down on his lip and waiting for you to give him a real answer. His palms are sweating. This was the only way he could find the words to say anything. He was a little oblivious, he needed to see it in writing because words made him lost. You look at him and he seems to be getting disheartened. 

“Tom-“

“Hey it’s okay,” Tom grabs the paper and tries to stuff it into his pocket. 

“Tom-“

“No, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,” 

Tom grabs his stuff quickly and rushes out the door. You stood there feeling stupid. You laughed at him for Christ sakes! But in your defense, it seemed like a joke Tom would make. His face though, you saw the crushed look upon his face. He was gutted. You look to the clock, 4:45. Fuck it. Executive order, you were done with work and now you had to make things right. 

__

Tom sat in the dimly lit restaurant, stirring a cup of tea with a little wooden stick. His heart felt heavy, his mind was cluttered with antagonizing thoughts. He felt stupid. After days, maybe weeks, of trying to say something to Y/N, he wrote a stupid fucking note? What kind of grade school shit is that? Tom didn’t even touch his sandwich. He felt physically ill. 

His fingers brush over your name that was carved into the window sill. God, it took forever to write it into the wood. He tried a pen, knife, and keys. Took all of dinner but it happened. Your name forever carved into one of his favorite places. Tom couldn’t be mad at you. Your name sparked that light feeling in his chest. Like his heart was flying. It was dumb though, a stupid puppy dog crush. His eyes fixated on his uneaten food until something poked his nose. It didn’t hurt but it was blunt, something scratchy. A poorly made paper airplane fell on top of his Mediterranean sandwich. He looks up and sees you standing there, hands behind your back like you’ve done something wrong. 

“Y/N, you don’t-“ 

“Come on Tom, open it.” You whine and take the seat in front of him. “I’m dying here,” You mimic. 

Tom gulps hard, opening the airplane folds nervously. You were not a master of paper folding at all. The nose of your airplane was bent before it hit Tom’s nose and the creases were all wrong. But it got to its destination and that’s all that mattered. Tom unfolded it and saw your beautiful handwriting scribbled across the paper. 

Dear Tom, 

Sorry for being an ass. Do you forgive me? (Checking yes means you’re my boyfriend so choose carefully) 

Tom scans the bottom where there are two boxes. Both had the word ‘yes’ next to them, leading him with no ultimatum. He laughs, grabbing his pen and creating a new box. You sit back, still unsure if he was mad that you disregarded his note from before. Tom turns the note around and you see the new box says, ‘Definitely you div’. 

“So I’m the div huh?” You giggle while leaning close over the table. “You’re the one using primary school ways to win my heart,” 

“It worked didn’t it?” Tom wiggles an eyebrow at you, his lips looking delectable. 

“Why don’t you come over here and see,” 

Tom lifts himself slightly out of the chair to meet your lips. His one hand cupped your cheek while the other moved across your carved name on the window sill. You were trying to not completely burst into a fit of laughter. You were out of this world happy, even it was full of cliches. But maybe that was the thing about puppy love. It’s pure and full of gestures of admiration. All reservations aside, you were now falling fast into that ‘puppy dog love’. 

Tom’s lips are better than you could ever imagine. It was the thing you see in movies, that true love’s kiss or whatever. It felt right? It felt better than right, it felt like the most amazing thing you could besides looking at Tom’s beautiful face. And boy, did he feel the same way. All those days worrying about what to say paid off. He finally got to kiss the girl of his dreams. Your cute little gasps against his lips. The way your hand carresses his so softly. This was better than any dream he ever had. 

“Worked pretty well, huh?” Tom leans his forehead against yours, pecking smaller kisses to your lips. 

“Shut it Holland,” You kiss him again. “Don’t make me write a breakup airplane,” 

[purplesurveys]

1068

What internet browser do you use?  Chrome. It’s what I’m used to, but I also think it looks the cleanest among the other available browsers.

What brand water do you drink? (Smart Water, Dasani, etc) I never reach for imported water brands like Evian because what is the point?? The local bottled water brands we have like Summit and Absolute work fine and already do a great job of quenching my thirst.

Do you have a job? Yes and I go back tomorrow and I’m cringing thinking about it. I love my job, but I wish it wasn’t so mercilessly hectic for 9 straight hours, 5 days a week. I like to think that I was hired right at the start of all the simultaneous Christmas campaigns of our clients which is why everything seemed busy; so I’m hoping the workload will start to die down a little bit now that all the holidays are over.

Are you full-time or part-time? Full-time.

Are you watching TV right now?  Nope. I was watching on YouTube earlier, but I decided to focus on this.

Or are you listening to music? No. It’s silent here in the living room, just the way I want it to currently be.

Would you go to jail for 3 years for $1,000,000? I don’t think that’s enough money for a dare that big.

When's your birthday?  April 21st.

Thoughts on kids?  I’m a lot less idealistic about them now. I used to want kids with my only formula being “I’ll do the exact opposite of what my mom did with me.” but I realized it’s so much more complicated than that. Raising a kid/kids is a whole damn job in itself and I see that with how my cousins of the same age, but from different families, have been acting. My cousins from one family are really spoiled and entitled, and I can’t last in a room with them for more than a minute; but my cousins in another family are so ridiculously well-behaved I can’t even start to fathom how respectful and kind they are. That observation has scared me away from kids in the meantime, because I still have to figure out how to not fuck such a responsibility up.

Worst punishment you've ever received by your parents?  The worst thing they ever did was take away my laptop privileges for an indefinite period when I was 11, when they caught me being a dumbass on social media and cursing all over the place. It’s a reasonable punishment per se, but that was also a time when the internet was starting to become a resource and requirement for homework and school projects; so my parents didn’t know how many things I failed to submit because they didn’t allow me on the internet.

Are you the type who is completely against abortion? I am pro-choice and pro-pregnant people should be allowed to make decisions about their own bodies. I don’t like the idea of abortion, but I’ve always believed people should have access to resources to learn more about it, to a healthy culture that embraces it as an option, and to actual facilities that will enable them to receive one if the need be.

Have you ever read a book that actually changed your outlook on life? No, I don’t think so. Not yet at least.

Does your favorite flower hold any meaning to you? Peonies don’t mean anything in particular. I just think they look pretty.

What would you do if your favorite animal became endangered?  I can’t imagine dogs ever getting endangered, but hypothetically I’d be crushed. I’d do the same thing I would do with other endangered animals, which is to spread the word about their situation and what can be done to save them from getting even fewer in number.

Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette?  No. I never cared for makeup. I’m turning 23 and still don’t feel the need to invest in it...should I be worried?

Do you own a tripod for your camera? We used to, but I have not seen it in a long time.

Are your nails always painted?  They never are.

What's one thing you've had a toxic reaction to? A breakup. < This was true for me too, at least for a time. Another one would be the barbecue that my uncle bought for a family gathering once that was definitely contaminated with something...shit gave me food poisoning at 3 AM and made me think my half-naked self was going to die right then and there in the bathroom.

Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for?  We only ever decorate for Christmas, so I guess it wins by default.

Were you popular in school? By the second half of high school I was hanging out with the popular groups and getting invited to popular kid things, but I never wanted to claim to be popular myself. I still liked letting my friends take the spotlight.

Are there any foods that often give you heartburn or indigestion?  Is there something you intend to buy in the near future?  Is anyone in your family artistically talented? What about musically? What cute behaviors or characteristics does/do your pet(s) have?  What's the screensaver on your computer?  Crossing these out as I believe this survey is a shuffle of questions from many different surveys...? and I have already answered these five in a past survey I recently finished.

What’s the sexiest thing about a guy? I don’t really care for guys, I think... I still haven’t made up my mind about them yet, but all I know is I definitely have not felt seriously attracted to any irl man my whole life.

What’s the sexiest thing about a girl?  THIGHS

Who were you with at midnight on January 1, 2021?  Who was the last person to send you a message on social media?  ^ What qualities does this person have, that you appreciate? What was the last thing that caused you to scowl, or frown?  Have you smiled at any point during the last hour?  What was the last thing you consulted Google for? So, did anyone send you a "Happy New Year" message when midnight hit? When was the last time you were on a carousel?  What is the closest you have ever been to an elephant? Have you ever played Halo?  Have you ever read a National Geographic magazine?  When was the last time you had a pillow fight?  Name somebody who you think deserves more respect: In your own words, define what the word sexy means.  What is the most popular tourist attraction where you live?  Without looking - do you know what brand your underwear is? Are you any good at volleyball?  Have you ever had a water balloon fight?  Same situation as above. What an interesting order of questions, hehe. Still having fun with this though!

Do you think some babies are ugly?  Newborns are super wrinkly and make the strangest facial expressions from time to time. That won’t stop me from cooing at them, though.

Don’t you miss Chuck E. Cheese? I’ve never been there. Is it like a standard birthday party events place for kids?

Do you think Fall Out Boy is gonna be a classic band, like Queen or AC/DC? In time, maybe. 

Do you love stuff-crusted pizza?  Yessssss.

Do you apply lotion after you bathe? I don’t, but I should probably pick it up as a habit seeing how dry my skin can get.

What’s your favorite color? Pastel pink. < Same!

Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Gabie.

Has a YouTube video of yours ever gotten over 10,000 views? I’ve never even posted a video on YouTube.

Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? Not my spot of choice, so maybe not.

Do you like Robert Frost poems?  I’m only familiar with one and I’m having a little trouble remembering it rn haha.

Do you go to church every Sunday?  We used to go to church, yeah; back when it was okay to. Our local church has allowed face-to-face masses again (but with very limited attendees) but my mom has preferred for us to stay home, so for the last few months we’ve been watching livestreams of Sunday mass every week.

Have you ever been in a relationship on-and-off for more than a year?  I would say Gab and I were on-and-off, but it went on a lot longer than a year. The total time would amount to six years.

If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. Or modeling, if I could only pull it off.

What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? I seriously don’t care. I skip out on bras all the time because I honestly personally don’t need them, and everyone should be allowed to feel and act the same way.

What is the last thing you tried on in a store? I never do this. Even before Covid, I’ve felt iffy about trying clothes that many others have already put on and were probably not washed 100% well. I’d rather get something, try it on at home, decide if it’s a good fit or not, and then return it ASAP if it ends up being the latter.

Is sleeping naked more comfortable than in clothes?  My mom doesn’t knock so I’ve always been scared to try sleeping naked (and she also throws a fit if she catches me locking my door, which is like - then why did you even buy a doorknob with a lock??), but I definitely see the appeal.

Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone?  Yes for the more part lmao, but I don’t know if I’ve ever made out in a dream.

Do you feel as though you have a good memory, or are you forgetful at times? Do you feel that your short-term memory or long-term memory is better? Have you ever had a concussion or some other sort of brain injury before?  Do you have any sort of mental illnesses or disorders? What do they involve?  What’s the longest that your hair has ever been? How about the shortest? When is the last time that you got it cut? What are some ways that you style your hair? Do you use any sorts of products in it?  Who was the last person to truly get on your nerves? What do you think caused you to feel that way? 

Do you recycle? Is this through choice or do you live somewhere where it’s compulsory? Through choice. Waste management is sadly not much of a priority here, if at all.

Do you prefer plain, carbonated, or flavored water? Do you think you drink enough water throughout the day?  I have never tried the latter two. Water has always been tasteless and plain to me, and I never understood the point of customizing something that’s meant to be tasteless and uncarbonated. There are days where I’m able to have several glasses and other days where I unconsciously skip out on water until dinner.

Have you ever needed to call the police, ambulance, or fire department? Fortunately I’ve never had to call any of these.

When was the last time you visited the library? What was the purpose of your visit? I wasssssss maybe having something printed? If it wasn’t that, I was probably returning a book.

Do you see a lot of wild animals where you live? Are any of them dangerous? None of that here, especially since I live in the city. A sighting of a wild animal outside of a zoo or eco-park would definitely make national news, like that time an ostrich was seen running around a private village many months ago.

Aside from when you were born, have you ever had to stay the night in the hospital? Yep, from a dengue scare that turned out to be just a simple low platelet count.

Have you ever experienced a panic attack?  Yes, but they are extremely rare. The last time I had one was maybe two or three years ago. Unfortunately I think all my panic attacks were caused by and involved my mom.

Would you ever want to go into the medical profession? Was your answer different pre-COVID?  For a time, when I was hating journalism in college, I was daydreaming about the idea of shifting to biology and making the drastic swerve to med school. But I knew a love of memorizing and biology topics won’t be enough for me to be successful in the medical field, so I quickly shot the idea down.

Where you live, are people paying attention to whatever restrictions are in place to help control COVID? Many? People are definitely following and have been obedient with protocol in different places. Some cities are also still strict with maintaining their checkpoints and banning tourists from entering their area just yet. It’s the government that hasn’t really been making the effort to put measures to contain the virus.

Do you get a real or artificial Christmas tree?  Artificial. I don’t know if getting real trees for Christmas trees is a thing here.

What’s your favourite type/flavor of popcorn?  Cheddar cheese.

Do you drink oat milk? Nopes. I’d like to try it just to say that I have (and I might end up loving it too), but I have yet to look up what foods or drinks it works best with.

Do you love thrifting?  Sure, sometimes I get good finds from it.

Do you consider using only lowercase letters your aesthetic?  Sometimes I’ll use it in a Powerpoint or a tweet, but I wouldn’t say it’s an aesthetic that defines me as a person.

Do you say “mood?”  Too much.

Do you own fairy lights?  No. I wanted those before, but I’m not so sure if I still do now.

Do you own glass straws because the metal ones kind of gross you out because you can’t tell if they are clean or not? I don’t own glass straws. Most places have changed their cups into a design that you can sip directly from, anyway.

Have you made a TikTok? No, don’t care.

Do you own airpods?  No, but would like a pair.

Are you afraid of Mercury in retrograde? I really don’t care.

Do you make life choices based on astrology?  No, I don’t believe in it. It scares me how much some people rely on it and use it as an actual moral compass or judgment system. It doesn’t harm anyone so I never actively speak out against astrology, but it scares me nonetheless.

How many pairs of converse shoes do you own?  One pair. I used to own another one, but my mom threw it out several years ago.

Number of jeans in your closet:  I would say like 10-12.

What accent do you have?  Philippine English/Americanized Filipino, I guess.

Do you have a big butt? I’d say it’s decently-sized.

Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? Yeah, before.

Have you graduated?  Both high school and college, yup.

Rihanna or Lady GaGa?  I like Rihanna’s music more, but I love Gaga’s outfits, concepts, and stage presence more. Do you use fake eyelashes?  No. I had to use them twice, but I’d never seek them out on my own.

Which was the last book that really captivated you? It’s been a while since I encountered a book like this.

What makeup brands do you use?  I don’t use makeup.

[fortheheavenssake]

Love and Humour (LH) Anon

*** all submitted by Love and Humour (LH) Anon to @skippyv20. (much ❤️ ❤️ & 😆 😆, enjoy)

April 10, 2020

Dear Skippy, made with Love and Humour, not a grain of truth (or insight) in sight.

Meghan Markle has a ‘spring in her step’ after leaving the UK (Credit: Daily Mail)

ROYALTEE COMMUNICATIONS

Friday 28th March 2020

The Duchess of Sussex Podiatry Update

The Duchess of Sussex would like to thank the global public for the warm wishes received from 9 people. Follow up bunion surgery was a success and High Royaltee Heels (HRH) are once again allowed to be worn.

In addition, High Royaltee Heels (HRH) will be featured in strictly unlimited Splash News paparazzi images as The Duchess adjusts to life queuing for essentials such as scented soya candles, AA batteries for Darren Doll and chia seed salad dressing. Please be assured that the Duchess of Sussex has a new spring in her step as she steps springingly into spring.

Royal snub: Real reason Meghan Markle and Harry silent in wake of Queen’s historic speech (Credit: Express UK)

Our favourite two tone, tone deaf, mood trampler has been hard at work for at least 3 hours in the last month supporting the work of HMTQ, as promised via her exit from the BRF.

The dust mites had barely settled on her calligraphy pen before Scooby arrived home with an ink refill for her to get going. Unfortunately for Scooby the stationary shop had run out of royal blue glitter ink and his mistress was not happy with the shade of ‘peasant noir’ he chose instead. She chucked a cup of tea in his general direction and used half the ink to decorate his top lip with a Poirot-esque facial appendage. Thus whipped into quiet submission to seek permanent ink removal techniques she was in a position to impart some wisdom to HMTQ.

It was a frantic, boots to the ground, empowering, enlightening and de-gassing few hours for MM. The ink flowed across the paper as it was traced from a calligraphy A-Z underneath, the wine glass circles made pretty patterns on the pages, the phone rang once but it was only that chap from the council rejecting the petition for a Princess of Sussex. At the conclusion of this time, MM grinned with purple stained teeth satisfaction at the soggy 30 page tome. This was to be just another notch in her legacy - the Queens speech, at a time of crisis, calligraphically curated by Meghan Markle, HRH, Duchess of Sussex, Princess of Sussex. The speech was sent off toot-sweet to HMTQ.

A royal source has leaked that it is very hard to know the level of adulation to come. LG has indicated in his proof of receipt letter that a special recording of the speech will be sent to MM after its broadcast on the 14th May. She will look forward to commenting on her role in curating the speech at that time. Until then, MM wishes her privacy to be respected and has no comment to make.

Royal reading inspiration: Kate, Meghan and Camilla’s favourite books to entertain you during lockdown (Credit: Hello Magazine)

<excerpt from article for brevity>

Meghan:

Trinny and Suzanna - How to dress for your body shape (brick on sticks edition)

“My best dearest friend and confidant, the Countess of Wessex, was engaged by HMTQ to advise me on dress protocol and general demeanour in the BRF, I haven’t looked at it yet because I don’t need advice”

Jamie Oliver - Pukka Tukka

“This title grabbed my attention from the outset. I haven’t opened it yet but think it will have overly invaluable advice on how to tuck your moon bump into your knickers. I don’t wear knickers and, after one incident that I totally got away with, my moon bumps now have reinforced crotch straps so I will not need to read this book.”

John Campbell -The Iron Lady: Margaret Thatcher, from Grocer’s Daughter to Prime Minister

“I love this book because the title is nice and the photo on the cover is in black and white. My US team are reading it for me and writing a similar story ‘The Tungsten Tank, from Lighting Directors Daughter to … well something, they haven’t worked out the narrative yet.”

Lindsay Jill Roth - What Pretty Girls Are Made Of

“This is actually the best book in the world. I haven’t read it but the launch party was cray-zee. When you buy it via any outlet, be sure to include the promotional code ‘HRHMM’ so that you get a special marked up price with proceeds going to my charitable foundation xx”

Thank you so much. We need laughter especially in these times. Prayers, love, support and laughter…is what will carry us through….love this! 🙏🏻❤️❤️❤️😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

——————

April 15

Dear Skippy, a riddle interpretation made with love and humour in celebration of MM Anon returning. So wonderful MM Anon, thank you. Skippy, Thank You for being your usual wonderful self, and keeping that door open. This interpretation contains no truth and only fun. LH Anon

doctor gone batty………

Actual Dr Jane Goodall interview

“My colleagues at the Royal Society for the Protection of Bats were delighted with the arrival of a rare male bat pup. Like all pups born at the Royal Society HQ, he was named after a member of the BRF, this one was dubbed Prince Harry.”

“Since his release into the wild, Prince Harry is finding life outside of the Royal Society challenging. He is sighted almost daily near the Royal Society HQ and doesn’t seem to have yet ‘flown the nest’ so to speak.”

“Night tracking indicates that there is a recently acquired spouse on the scene who has restricted his hunting abilities. We are concerned that he has lost weight.”

“The spouse displays desperate flirtation and attraction techniques but all indications to date show that Prince Harry does not want his offspring to grow up like that, in the wild.”

“We have to bring him back into the fold of the Royal Society for this rare breeding line to continue.”

LA for dummies ………

INTERNAL MEMO - Sunshine Sachs LA Office

Action with urgency

Contact Splash News, advise client has received parcel previously delayed in UK under non-essential freight notice. Call time on location 1100 hours.

Contact Meghans Mirror, advise client will be dressed in Dorias hand me down yoga-wear (details to come). Pitch as ‘recycling clothes’ and tell them to get A into G with sourcing designer samples, it has been months now.

Contact upmarket baby shop, advise client will return goods, including feature baby pacifier for full refund after images published.

Contact Archewell Foundation, advise client appearance fee from shop is to be publicised as donation following boom in sales

All invoices and timesheet hours are to include the job code reference ‘MM042 - Dummy for her dummy’

Doctors Within Borders ……… social insistence …………

Following the epic success of her voiceover in ‘Elephants Without Borders’, PH has been caught out again pitching his wife’s talent in the hopes of furthering her A List career. In a phone call to the BBC investigative branch he was insistent that her expertise and contacts could be used in the planned documentary ‘Doctors With no Borders’. The documentary, conceptualised by writers who hang out on certain Tumblr blogs, focuses on medical professionals who have been paid off to endorse medical fiction. In regards to the segment about surrogacy cover ups PH was to have said “Oh yeah, she’s invested. I mean interested.”

hugs not bugs………

“I was just cruising around, enjoying the musty odour of the building. I’m attracted to sparkly things so went to check out this headpiece, worst luck, it was cubic zirconia not real diamonds. Then it happened, I flew a little lower towards the face. I still have bad dreams about that close up view. I was trying to get away and she kept waving her hand around, it was like she was trying to catch and cuddle me against my wishes.”

Fly remembers the wedding of MM and PH

absolutely isolated

The new TV series, funded by O, features MM, a heavy-drinking, drug-abusing PR pawn who spends her time failing to lose weight and chasing bizarre fads in a desperate attempt to stay young and “hip”.

MM is joined by magazine fashion director JM, whose drug abuse, alcohol consumption and desperate promiscuity far eclipse MM’s.

MM is reliant upon the support of her half sister SM, an aspiring writer whose constant care of her immature sister has left her a bitter cynic.

The series also stars DR in a supporting role as MM’s dotty, sarcastic and often thieving mother who appears, usually in the background, in nearly all of the episodes.

Scooby as MM’s utterly brainless personal assistant also features in many of the episodes.

Only review

“I give this one star because it is real reality TV. I can’t give it anything more than that as the storyline is blatantly ripped off from Ab Fab. The title is a highly offensive play-on-words amid a global pandemic, but I guess it shows the same sensitivity as writing motivational messages on bananas for ladies of the night”

Kate. ……… “ not a whisper ma’am ……… St George’s chapel of course!!……………

Jeopardy MM Edition!?!

Answer: Kate

Question: Whose husband does MM most want?

Answer: Shout

Question: What initiative did MM try to hijack during her time in the BRF?

Answer: St George’s Chapel

Question: Where was MM when she realised that her game was up?

Oh thank you! Such fun! You are brilliant! We need the laughs for sure!😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

——————

May 10

Dear Skippy, a riddle interpretation made with Love and Humour. No truth, no seriousness, not a speck of speculation, just some ramblings to maybe lighten the mood for some today. Thank you MM Anon for the fodder! LH Anon :)

MM ANON ……… Rachel 43………… archificial 15 months ……… The high value real estate world is buzzing with speculation today after information was publicly sought to identify a tenant who has abandoned several properties, leaving hundreds of thousands of dollars in rent arrears. Multiple properties have been affected in locations such as Vancouver Island, LA and Malibu. The only clue, common to all properties, is a wall size chart, mounted by the door in the kitchen. There are two markings on these charts, both at 1.68m tall these are labeled ‘Rachel, 43’ and ‘Archificial, 15 months’.

hospitality will become inhospitable ………… the R factor ………… MM has announced her new super smart communications team, herself and a cabbage.

In unrelated news, a new book will be hitting the shelves this summer.

‘Finding a Freeloader’ is an R18 biopic, written by royal reporter Omid Scobie. “With unique access and written without the participation of of MM who lived under Scobies couch for 18 months, Finding a Freeloader is an honest, up-close, and disarming portrait of a cash-strapped, internet obsessed, and fat headed ex royal who is unafraid to break with tradition, determined to create a new path in the largest spotlight possible, and dedicated to building a legacy that will make a profound stain on the world.” reads an excerpts from the summary of the book.

“Henry, don’t do that”. …… Whispers from royal aides have let us know that HMTQ gave PH a ticking off inside the Windsor Castle bolthole they are residing. Apparently he was tinkering with a 3M home printer, wrapping it up to send over to MM. HMTQ is said to have right royally disagreed with sending her presents.

return to school??? …………… no guidelines …………… If you are at home and bored you can train online as a counsellor. Today I feel ________.

If you are at home and bored you can plaster a wall to make it look like your hubbys house. Today I feel ____smart_____

If you are at home and bored you can play with zoom video filters. Today I feel ___airbrushed_____.

If you are at home and bored you can read a book to your child. Today I feel ____damp____.

If you are at home and bored you can take the neighbours dog for a walk with an actor. Today I feel ____thrivin_____.

be alert,the country needs lerts………… MM and JM are hard at it again, drumming up business opportunities to stimulate their personal economies during these trying times. The newest initiative is bumper stickers. Chuck one on your car, slogan up your stroller, pimp your private jet, heck if you want to really get on board, slap a bumper on your moon bump and wiggle wobble that tum up to your audience!

A slight hiccup has delayed production of the stickers, the 3M home printer seems to have a malfunction which drops a letter from some words. Until this issue is remedied, the motivational bumper stickers will be available for a discount price of $143 + p&p

“Money can’t buy rust”

“The sign of a beautiful person is that they always see beauty in oters”

“The key to success is to tart”

risk assessment!!! ………… an issue of safety ………… it’s the economy,stupid!! ………… Very exciting news came for MM via a low rent TV shopping channel!! She has been asked to front one whole segment, approximately 19 minutes long for their buy 3 get 11 free homeware extravaganza! She is so excited, knowing that this is just one step from Oprahs couch, a short leap away from becoming the next Shakespeare, a stones throw from presidency! A minion provided all the information needed over the phone, he unfortunately had a small speech impediment but this didn’t stop MM from listening intently to the bits of the conversation that interested her.

It was a busy preparation day. MM mused what to film. The minion had mentioned that a whisk assessment would be a good idea in the current covid climate but what whisks had to do with a virus she wasn’t sure. She settled on making a homemade wedding cake. JM emailed the recipe for the one she made the day before MMs wedding, Archie took the car and collected 3 whisks, Doria converted her basement to a kitchen studio, TM dropped off some lights, Scoobie cried and did her makeup, MA took the dogs for a walk and SS called about her outstanding bills.

And all was ready.

Whisk One 0/10 - basic egg whisk

MM could not get it out of the hard plastic packaging and was unable to test it.

Whisk Two 0/10 - fancy dough whisk

MM forgot to buy ingredients and was unable to test it. By the time Archie returned from shopping she had left the premises to pap walk.

Whisk Three 0/10 - electric whisk

MMs wig was caught in the blades of the whisk.

The segment was cancelled.

test, Trace and isolate. ………… a silver lining 🌈🌈 Sugars are calling MM a silver lining in this pandemic as she continues to translate official advice into a format that they understand. With new guidelines announced overnight, MM has been burning the midnight oil to get a new video out for them. Offical transcript below, video will be emailed via offical spokesperson once heavy doctoring is complete.

MM: Government guidelines show that we need to follow these simple 3 steps - Test, Trace, Isolate - to help in the fight against covid-19. I love to shorten things, I make things so much more relatable. Did you know that I call my husband ‘H’? No? Well I do and he is my husband and me and him are together and have a kid OK. Anyway, back to this virus, Test, Trace, Isolate! To make it easier for people to remember I have shortened the steps, T - T - I or as I like to call them ’TTI’s’. My titties are now trademarked and copyrighted so spread the word and lets get the use of them bankrolling some money in for me! Stay safe and follow my titties everyone, they are magical!

MA: Bravo!

Oh thank you so much! Much needed laughs today! Such a joy! You always brighten Mr. Skippy’s and my day! We love these. Thank you!😊❤️❤️❤️❤️😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

——————

July 9

Dear Skippy, here is an MM Anon interpretation made up with Love and Humour and plenty of un-reality. All entertainment with no truth here. Thank you so much Skippy and MM Anon for the fun :) Much happiness to everyone here, LH Anon

girl up the creek………hostage man. ………… half free meal………… drug exposure …………… … Meghan Markle and Michelle Obama Are Joining Forces - Both women are set to speak at a gender equality summit later this month.

MM, currently the Duchess of Sussex and former HRH, will feature in a video possibly made by her and unrelated to any content provided by MO in a groundbreaking word salad covered in a virtual salad dressing of topics

How to carve your own canoe paddle from dead wood

Creating the ultimate free loaded captive environment for spouses in a long distance situation

Debunking the myth: There is no such thing as a free lunch, you can have your coke and eat it too

Scrub the internet 101: The chemical way

staff redundancy at HMTQ …………… HMTQ has announced plans for several staff redundancies, to be actioned between now and the end of this year. These include, but are not limited to, LG, PH and the entire ’Sussex’ household support. When questioned about the redundancies, the royal spokesperson refused to be drawn as to reasons or whether the staff would be re-deployed to other roles. In an unguarded moment the spokesperson was heard to mutter ‘tick tock, boom’ leading to speculation that the scheduled maintenance of royal clocks and cannons was a preoccupation.

boarding rules …………… most popular royal ……………… They grow up so fast! Archie Darren Doll off to boarding school. MM has had this important decision underway for a long time. Shunning the ‘toxic environments’ that exist in royal educational circles, she is delighted and certain that this will be the most popular decision she has made yet. The boarding space has been booked since before Darrens conception at $30 per month (reduced to $0 a month for patrons) at the ‘prestigious Mayhew’ outfit.

mines a cider……… In breaking news, PW enjoys cider and chips in Norfolk pub beer garden. In unrelated news, MM has added another topic to her gender equality seminar

Brewing alcohol in lockdown; the perfect gift for the family member you want to have

( where’s pg 💜💜) …………… Scoobie has not seen MM in person for many days now, she refuses point blank to emerge from under his couch in daylight. Shrieking sounds have been heard in the dead of the night, marks on the walls indicate someone with a greasy wig is repeatedly banging their head, the recycling bin is mysteriously filling up with wine bottles and some weirdo called Marcus keeps leaving voicemail messages on the landline phone about paying a debt. It must have been a week ago when Scoobs found a post-it note on the kitchen table when he woke one morning. It was very cryptic,

‘Get onto the panda, find PG, source W Cream, doc bill unpaid”

He is having difficulty working it out but is keeping himself, boots on the ground, busy trying, he went to the zoo but it was closed because of covid-19

In unrelated community news,

Toys R Us have issued a trespass notice to a member of the public for refusing to pay for a soft animal toy after it was soiled by a customer repeatedly sitting on top of it and taking selfies.

Numerous police have been approached in recent days by a male of indeterminable age who has requested a ride on top of their vehicle. None agreed. A referral is pending for his psychiatric assessment

The local supermarket has placed a ‘2 per customer limit’ on teabags after an unidentified customer purchased their entire stock of the popular brand PG Tips

The Department of Conservation has issued a public statement that threats to sue have been made against them, which will be rigorously defended. It is said that a concerned member of the public has accused them of having an unpaid invoice for ‘humanitarian work’ carried out in a secret place at an undetermined time.

”it’s Balmoral Philip, but not as we know it) …… out of his Depp-th… Due to a confidential threat to the family, HMTQ has beefed up surveillance and security at most royal properties of late. PP and HMTQ enjoy tapping into the new systems and are taking great pleasure in observing the nightly actions of one individual via underwater CCTV footage. He slinks out to the edge of the lake in darkness, wearing jandals, jeans and an open necked shirt. Each night he tries to scuba dive his way into the estate. Encountering steel mesh each night, it is only a matter of time until he tries to breach the area where PP commissioned his sign ‘Bog Off MA, we have your f***ing picture’.

“ more 🎼Braziiiiil🎼…………… Spanish flu?? ……… 🎼we’re all going on a summer holiday 🎼 HMTQs favourite ‘for fun Phillip’ insect infiltration agent has been dispatched to LA. Layovers for wing rest were authorised in Spain and Brazil. Fly is reported to have arrived safely with only a minor cold due to flying at altitude. Mission: ultimate MM annoyance for summer months.

Oh oh….my sides! Oh you are too funny! Omg! My pups are looking at me like they must call woof-woof-woof…..Mr. Skippy begging me to stop reading….half rolling on the ground…..daughter and SonIL asking if we need an ambulance……such great fun….oh…and cat screaming he called for one! Thank you so much! You made my night! Love to you!😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

—————

[dannifielding]

Bright Eyes Snippet #???

Currently stuck with Amelia in Season 14. Enjoy under the cut.

Castiel sat down across from Sam as he hung up the phone, looking worse for wear as he held a bottle of beer up to his head. “Who was that?” he asked.

“Uh, Ketch. He’s in London searching for the Newton-Dee Hyperbolic Pulse Generator.”

Cas frowned. “The what?”

“It’s-It’s the magic egg that kicked Lucifer out of the president. I thought we could use it on Michael, but Ketch can’t find it. So that’s another dead end, which is just awesome.”

He was surrounded by books and lore, obviously still trying to find anything that could get Michael out of Dean. Castiel couldn’t blame him, but the concern he felt didn’t abate. “Sam, are you alright?”

The younger Winchester let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been better,” he replied. “I’ve been worse.” He took a look at the angel, who was still sporting wounds from the beating the demons had given him. “What about you?”

“I’m-I’m just sorry,” he replied. “I should never have gone to those demons.”

“Cas, I—” Sam started before shooting him a reassuring smile. “I don’t blame you. Honestly, I wish I’d thought of it first. If it meant finding Dean I’d-I’d work with…” He shook his head, not liking where his train of thought was leading him. “I’d do anything.”

Cas nodded along and, for a moment, they both sat in silence. “How is Amy doing?” he asked.

Sam shifted in his seat as he thought on the blonde woman. “Concerningly well,” he replied. “She’s been helping out all over the joint. She made dinner for everyone yesterday. She even sat down with Maggie to show her how to hack into the traffic cams so we would have more people able to help if we needed it.”

“Has she left the bunker?”

“Not yet.”

Cas looked down at his hands and saw the cuts on them. “That might not be a bad thing.”

“Yeah, that’s my thought as well,” Sam agreed. When he had gone to pick Jack and Amy up from the church, she had not been in the best state. Jack had explained the wound in her chest, and she had been a rather distant from everyone for the first night. He suspected she was wallowing in her own denial, he just hoped they found Dean before it broke.

He straightened slightly, forcing his worry down as Jack stepped into the library. “Hey, how’s it going?” he greeting, alerting Cas to his presence as well.

Jack came to a stop at the end of the table, standing a little awkwardly. “I’m fine,” he repeated yet again, almost sounding as if he meant it. “Amy told me to come tell you that she’s about to tidy your room, and if you want to hide your ‘special interest’ magazines, you’d better come do it now.” He frowned. “I’m not sure what ‘special interest’ magazines are, but she wouldn’t explain and just told me to tell you.”

“Tidy my…” Sam started, sending Cas a look. He looked just as confused as he felt, so they both stood up. “Yeah, come on,” he instructed Jack. “Why is she cleaning my room?”

“She’s cleaning everyone’s room,” he explained. Sure enough, as they reached the hallway where the bunkrooms started, there were small bags lining the wall outside both Jack’s and Cas’s room. Amelia was stood by Sam’s door, hair pulled back with a box of cleaning supplies by her feet. She smiled at them all as they appeared.

“Hey, I knew I was right,” she crowed. “You getting lonely at night, Sammy?”

“What? No!” he replied defensively and her smirk said that was the exact reaction she was expecting. “What are you doing?”

“Well, tomorrow is laundry day,” she replied. “And all the hunters here means that we’re drinking our way through Kansas, I’m thinking I might need to head to the recycling center as well. So, I thought that I would do a bit of tidying so I can get everything together and not have to make multiple trips.”

“Well, then,” he said as he opened his door onto his immaculate bedroom. “There’s nothing for you here, then.”

She actually frowned at how clean he was. “Eugh, Sam, what do you do in here that means you’re this clean?” she asked. “It’s not right.”

“There’s nothing- I’m not—” he stuttered out. She just shot him a look before pulling his door shut.

“I’m disappointed in you, Sam,” she continued. “Well, Jack is going to help me with the rest.” This seemed news to Jack, but all of them knew better than to argue with her. “You all may as well help as well.”

Of course, the next room she stopped at was Dean’s. She hesitated for a moment but then opened it. She saw the difference between the two men’s rooms and immediately felt more at ease. “See? This is how a bedroom should look.”

She pulled her phone out and flicked her music on. “Right, rubbish first, then recycling. Clothes and bedding last. And this,” she pulled a pair of gloves out of the box and handed them to Sam. “Is for anything you cannot identify.”

“You know, he spent ages setting up this room,” Sam pointed out as she began to bob her head to the music. “It’s like he just gave up.”

“Yeah, well, what do you expect?” she retorted. “When I was six years old I broke my leg. I was running from my brother and his friends.”

She shoved some cleaning supplies at Cas and nudged him towards the bathroom. “And tasted the sweet perfume of the mountain grass I rolled down. I was younger then. Take me back to when I…”

I found my heart and broke it here. Made friends and lost them through the years. And I've not seen the roaring fields in so long, I know I've grown. But I can't wait to go home.

Cas, dutifully, took the cleaning suppliers and headed into Dean’s bathroom to clean up. Sam leant against the door as Amelia continued to sing to herself as she started to pick up the wrappers from around Dean’s bed.

“Fifteen years old and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. Running from the law through the backfields and getting drunk with my friends,” she continued happily. “Had my first kiss on a Friday night. I don't reckon that I did it right.” She shot Sam a look that suggested that she was much better than the song was giving her credit for. “I was younger then. Take me back to when we found weekend jobs, when we got paid.” She walked over with an empty bottle that she’d found underneath Dean’s bed. “We'd buy cheap spirits and drink them straight. Me and my friends have not thrown up in so long. Oh, how we've grown. But I can't wait to go home.”

She placed it into a recycling bag then grabbed Sam’s hands. “I'm on my way. Driving at 90 down those country lanes. Singing to ‘Tiny Dancer’.” She grinned, making him dance with her. He half-humoured her for a moment then sent her over to Jack, who was happy to be silly with her. It was nice that, even though Dean and Michael were always at the forefront of their mind, that something as simple as Amy and Jack dancing whilst cleaning could bring a little bit of happiness into their lives.

He could tell Cas agreed as he stopped in the doorway to watch them, a fond smile on his face. She laughed as Jack spun her away from him and she chucked her arms out. “And I miss the way you make me feel, and it's real. We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill. Over the castle on the hill.”

She motioned to Jack to take off the sheets with a flick of her hand. She headed to Dean’s desk, where she began wiping it down. “One friend left to sell clothes. One works down by the coast. One had two kids but lives alone. One's brother overdosed.” She turned around and looked out at them all. “One's already on his second wife. One's just barely getting by. But these people raised me and I can't wait to go home.”

She started to walk over to Sam, but paused when she caught the sight of herself in the mirror. She started to fluff her hair. “And I’m on my way. I still remember those old country lanes.” She reached out, grabbing the door of the mirrored cabinet. “When we did not know the answers.”

No one saw it coming. Her face contorted as she ripped it off from the hinges and flung it across the room. She turned to the desk she had just tidied and swept everything off it, sending pictures and lore books everywhere. The tidied room exploded into chaos as she screamed.

Sam darted forward and wrapped her up in his arms and she broke down, sobbing hard and heavy as her denial broke and they both fell to the floor. He held her close, rocking his friend, shushing her as she shook. His own tears welled up and he pressed a kiss to her hair. Bobby and Mary quickly appeared in the doorway, alert at the sudden noise. Jack didn’t know what to do but stand awkwardly. Castiel hadn’t reacted fast enough, and so he stood watch as two of the most important people in his life fell under the heartbreak of losing Dean Winchester.

“Over the castle on the hill.”

[gumnut-logic]

Planes, Custard Tarts & Frog Cakes

Title: Planes, Custard Tarts & Frog Cakes

Authors: @i-am-chidorixblossom​  & @gumnut-logic​

11 Mar 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes the coercion has to be subtle. Scott can, on occasion, be exactly that.

Word count: 1692

Spoilers & warnings: None

Timeline: Whenever

Author’s note: Gumnut and ChidoriXblossom accidently role played a fic. This is the result.

Disclaimer: Ours? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“Damn it, Virg, sit down!”

“I’m fine, Scott.  There’s work to be done.”

“It can wait.”

“It doesn’t need to.  I can manage.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “But you don’t have to. Give your body a chance to heal, for goodness sake. What is the hurry?”

A scowl.  “There isn’t one.  But I’m bored and I’ve got the time.  Might as well use it and take some of the pressure off Brains.”

Scott threw up his hands. “Do I have to make it an order?”

The faintest twitch of a smirk touched Virgil’s lips.  “You can try, but seeing as I’m off duty, technically I don’t have to follow it.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “So, if I was the one running around in a sling, I could do whatever I wanted just because I was bored?”

Virgil let out a short sigh and turned back to his toolbox.  “Considering all the stupid stunts you pull you can’t judge.”  He frowned.  “And I’m not ‘running around’.  I’d just rather be doing something useful than sitting wasting the day away.”

Scott looked away a second only to return his focus to Virgil a moment later. “Okay, sure, but something less physical?” He grabbed for an example. “What about your painting? This is an opportunity to spend some decent time in the studio. Something a little less strenuous than working in the hangars.”

It was Virgil’s turn to roll his eyes.  He appreciated what his brother was trying to do, he really did.  He just didn’t have the patience for it right now.  Pain always made him cranky and Scott was starting to push his buttons.

“It doesn’t work like that. I have to be in the right frame of mind to paint.”  The tension from their argument was starting to make his shoulder ache.  Virgil downed his tool and had a tentative rub at the suffering joint.  “Look, can we not fight about this?  I’m really not in the mood.”

Scott fell quiet a moment, but his eyes did not leave his brother. “What are you planning to do?”

Virgil turned to face him and leaned back against his box.  “Painkillers are wearing off.  I’ll take a break if you relax and stop worrying.”  It was a compromise.  Scott could take it or leave it.

Blue flickered. “Join me in the lounge?”

Virgil relented. “Fine.  Just for a little while though.”

Scott didn’t grin, but he did reach out and squeeze Virgil’s undamaged shoulder gently. “C’mon, I’ll even let you have the remote.” With a bit of luck a fresh dose of painkillers would have Virgil snoozing against his shoulder on the couch.

That got a slight smile out of the younger brother.  “Wow, I feel spoiled.  Gordon never got that.”

The tension eased from his shoulders but the pain remained, and Virgil walked in step with his big brother over to the elevator and back up to the villa.

When they reached the comms room, Scott grabbed the remote, almost chucked it to his brother, before realising exactly what he was doing, and handed it over instead. “Got your pills?”

“They’re with the first aid kit in the kitchen cabinet.  I need to take them with food.”  A thought suddenly crossed his mind.  “I think there are some goodies left over that Kayo brought from that bakery in Adelaide.”

Scott stared a moment. “The Balfours? You mean they survived Gordon and Alan? How did you manage that?” He waved his brother towards the couch. “You sit. I’ll grab. Find us something to watch.”

With a chuckle Virgil did as he was told.  He stole a few extra cushions from the other sofas and got himself settled comfortably. His shoulder was still protesting at the movement, but other than a faint hiss through his teeth he stayed quiet. No sense in worrying Scott more than he was already.

Scott trotted downstairs to the kitchen and got his hands on the necessary pills before throwing open the refrigerator and basically pulling everything out of it, including what had to be the remains of two-week-old Chinese takeaway. Ugh, Gordon was disgusting. It hit the recycling bin with a thud. But yes, right at the very back in a bag labelled coolant tubes in Virgil’s calligraphic handwriting, he found two custard tarts and two cakes in the shape of frogs. Placing them carefully on the counter, he threw everything back into the fridge and grabbing his bounty, bounded back up the stairs.

Virgil had found something to watch by that point, a show featuring vintage aircraft with the presenter getting a tour of a hangar full of them over in the States.  Scott liked anything to do with planes and it was interesting from an engineering standpoint for Virgil, so it was a win win. He wasn’t in the mood for a movie, wanting to get back to work after this little break.  Better to avoid getting tied into a three-hour blockbuster.

When Scott joined him on the sofa Virgil grinned at the paper bakery bag.  So, his little trick had worked, huh?  Excellent.  “I call dibs on the green one.”

Scott raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You’re welcome to it.” He held out the painkillers as he sat down beside his brother. “Take your drugs.” He stared at the holoprojector. “Is that a P51 Mustang?”

Virgil accepted the pills and popped a few into his mouth, swallowing them down quickly before he reached for his green cake.  “P-51D, yeah. This guy has just finished restoring it apparently.  I think they’re going to show the test flight later.”  He bit into his cake and resisted the urge to groan.  Damn, they always tasted so good.  Perfect way to mask the slightly icky aftertaste of those awful painkillers.

Scott absentmindedly grabbed a custard tart. “You think we’ve got room for one of those in the hangars?”

Virgil eyed him curiously. “I’m sure I could make space near Two. Why?  You wanting to try your hand at restoration?”

“No, just want to fly one.”

Virgil shook his head fondly.  “Thought so. I’ll see what I can do about making enough space.”  He finished his cake and then slouched back a little on the sofa.  Spending time like this with Scott when he wasn’t stressing and giving himself grey hairs was one of Virgil’s favourite pastimes.  It was rare these days for the two of them to get enough downtime to just chill and hang out.  The world had such high demands for them.

Scott slouched a little himself as the documentary wandered through the history of the plane and its contribution to WWII. He liked its lines. It had a vague echo of his ‘bird in its silhouette. “Would you be interested in restoring one?”

Virgil shrugged with his one good shoulder, head resting against the back of the sofa.  “Wouldn’t say no.  It’s a piece of history that deserves to be remembered.”  He turned a little towards his brother.  “But it would mean I’m down in the hangar even more, and you just dragged me out of there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Not right now. Sometime in the future.” He shifted where he sat. “I just thought it might be something we could do together. You know, for fun.” Now why did he suddenly feel awkward?

Virgil smiled and nudged him gently.  “I’m winding you up.  It does sound like fun.”  He turned back to the holoprojector and relaxed.  Stifled a yawn.  Was he really that tired or was it just the painkillers starting to kick in?  Virgil didn’t want to sleep.

“You gonna eat your tart? Now it is out of the bag, it is fair game for the others. John’s down tomorrow and you know what he’s like with free reign of the refrigerator.” Full belly, painkillers, his brother didn’t stand a chance.

A heavy hand rubbed at Virgil’s face, mussing the front of his hair a little.  “Nah, I’m good.  He’s welcome to it.”  He’d actually had a decent breakfast this morning and the frog cake had been a special treat.  The tart would just be greed.  “I want to get back to work shortly.  If I eat too much, I’ll feel sick.”

He shifted a little, more towards Scott, taking a bit more pressure off his bad shoulder.  The gravitational pull of the sofa and his brother’s shoulder was getting closer without Virgil even realising.

Of course, that was the very moment the documentary came to an end, but Virgil had obviously started the projector up on his own account, because the autoplay switched over to something musical. A piano began to play. Scott went from mental cursing to a hesitant hope within seconds. His eyes darted surreptitiously in his brother’s direction in the hope he would stay put.

If it was a battle of wills between staying awake and falling asleep, it was obvious which side was winning.  Virgil’s eyes were drooping to half-mast now, the remote in his good hand nearest Scott slowly slipping from his grasp.  The meds were heavy duty, quick to take down the normally strong and stubborn Tracy before he could put up much of a fight.  The music floating through the air helped too, as did the warmth emanating from Scott when Virgil’s head finally came down completely onto his shoulder. Just as predicted.  A minute later and he was out, body grasping the chance to rest and heal with the quieting of an overactive mind.  A faint mumble, wordless and without meaning, then nothing but deep steady breaths.

Scott couldn’t help but smile. Gentle fingers caught the remote before it could hit the floor, the volume dropped just a little before he placed it on the side table. A glance at his sleeping brother, another smile as Scott shifted just enough to get comfortable for a long haul. He grabbed his tablet, sent John a quick text with details to warn all other family members off the comms room unless there was an emergency and opened up the paperwork he had been avoiding for the last week. As Virgil began to snore, Scott just smiled more.

-o-o-o-

FIN.