#downloaded it the second i could because holy shit man. i am NOT losing this again

[linneastarron]

boyboy west coast fans we somehow stay winning

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam.  A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27​ . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n   |  Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around?  somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

 ---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite! 

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

[sailorbellewrites]

No Limit

characters— seokjin x reader (ft. members of bts)

summary— you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

information— one shot. bakery!au. features less puns than you would think. i am still very new to writing smut, so be kind in that regard. if this gets a lot of love, might be continued in the future.

warnings—adult language; smut; mild violence; awkward situations; super hopeless seokjin.

no limit—

So it starts like this:

Jungkook has been talking about his older sister moving to Seoul for a couple of weeks now and Seokjin doesn’t really believe him because in the 2 years that he’s known the college senior, he’s never mentioned having a sister, just an older brother. The young man only has pictures of his mom hung up in his apartment and all requests to see what the girl looks like have been met with a stern shake of his head. Taehyung has never seen the girl either, says Jungkook doesn’t like to talk about her and he doesn’t know why. He’s heard the girl over the phone though and says she sounds, “cute.” And while Namjoon is certainly right in saying it would be weird for Jungkook to make up having a sister, Seokjin thinks Jungkook is just a weird enough person to do it.

“She’s coming today, hyung,” Jungkook says one Wednesday afternoon, too much energy radiating off of him. He’s dressed much nicer that normal, no holes in his jeans and a long sleeved shirt covering most of his tattoos. He even got a haircut, something he hadn’t had in a while. Jungkook can’t stand still, constantly wiping down the counters and rearranging the cupcakes in the display case. Seokjin gets so sick of his constant movement that he sends him to the kitchen to knead dough. “Okay, but hyung, if she comes in you have to let me know.”

“I don’t know what she looks like.”

He sighs deep, the sound almost morphing into a whine. “She’s probably gonna be wearing something bright or she’ll just ask for me! Seokjin please!”

“Fine, fine. Now get to the back, you’re making everyone uncomfortable. You’re gonna make me go outta business.”

When you walk in wearing a bright red coat, Seokjin doesn’t make the connection. You look around the shop for a bit and Seokjin is stunned because goddamn you’re beautiful. It’s like a movie, the white lights of the shop forming a halo around you and everything slows to a crawl. You make it to the register, eyes widening at the chocolate donut pyramid displayed behind Seokjin and he knows he’s fucked. “Hi,” you say and, yup, Seokjin is super fucked.

“I... Hi-I mean… Welcome to Baking News! How can I bake your day?” And the recovery isn’t as smooth as he would have liked it to be, but you still laugh way too hard at the puns and his heart swells.

“You’re funny,” you state earnestly. “I’m actually not here to buy anything, though. I’m looking for my brother.”

“Your brother?” Seokjin asks dumbfounded, because he would definitely know if anybody worked for him that looked like you.

“Yeah! He’s tall and skinny. Oh and he has really big teeth. He kind of looks like a rabbit when he smiles.” All of the air leaves Seokjin’s lungs because there is no fucking way you are Jeon Jungkook’s sister. You guys look nothing alike—hell, it’s questionable if you're even from Korea, that’s how different you look. But then Jungkook comes scrambling out of the kitchen and over the counter screaming “Noona!” like he’s a character in a goddamn cartoon. And you wrap yourself around him like a python, hugging him so tight that his face turns red. “There’s my bunny boy,” you squeal and Jungkook plants a big sloppy kiss on your cheek and—

“Holy shit, he does have a sister.”

.

.

Okay, so you’re not Jungkook’s real sister. He’s just weirdly obsessed with you and keeps calling you his sister, but you’re not his sister. At least that’s the conclusion Seokjin comes up with because you don’t have the same surname and you don’t look alike and you tell him that you haven’t lived in Korea in over five years. You share that tidbit of information over coffee two weeks after your arrival, pink scarf wrapped gently around your neck in a way that Seokjin deems more flattering than it should be. You share a lot of information with him in the time that you’ve been back, always coming into the bakery to get the first sugary treat you can get your hands on.

“Bunny boy tells me you make the best lattes this side of Seoul,” you tell him one rainy Thursday morning, leaned up against the counter. The bakery is empty except for you two, the usual morning rush having filtered out quickly due to the inclemete weather. Seokjin snorts because you always call Jungkook ‘bunny boy,’ even on days like today when he’s not here and it’s so cute the way the words come out of your mouth. They tumble out so effortlessly, whereas Seokjin can’t go two minutes without stuttering over himself while talking to you. So he just snorts because it’s easier to make sounds than it is to form words when you’re staring up at him like he’s the most interesting man in the world. “Is it true, Jinnie?”

“Jinnie?” He asks incredulously, because you’ve never called him anything other than Seokjin.

“Cute name for a cute boy,” you say with a shrug, as if it’s obvious. It’s not 

His mouth is moving before he can stop it. “Cute? You think I’m cute? Just cute?”

“Yeah, why?” You chirp out with a sly smirk. Seokjin’s heart stops—but his mouth does not.

“I’ll have you know, I’m not just cute. I’m handsome. In fact, I’m one of the most handsome men in the world. Have you ever seen a face more handsome than mine? More beautiful than mine? I know you lived abroad for a while and have seen a lot of attractive men walking around, but I promise you that this face right here is better. This face should be on billboards all over the world.” This isn’t the first time that Seokjin’s gone off on this tangent, of course. Everyone has heard it before, taking the comedy bravado for what it is and laughing him off. But when he says it to you, it feels like he’s marketing himself. He doesn’t want you to laugh him off. He wants you to believe him.

Your head lolls to the side as he speaks, as though you are fully taking his words into consideration, and when he finishes, you grin. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, Mr. Worldwide Handsome, do you really make the best lattes?” And Seokjin’s heart starts to constrict because even though your tone is teasing, your eyes are so sincere. He nods. You laugh. He’s fucked.

But he’s even more fucked because he can’t act on his attraction. Jungkook is scarily protective of you. He always seems to know where you are and who you’re with. He glares at any guy who looks at you for more than 10 seconds and shoves his hoodies over you if you’re showing too much skin. You mention downloading Tinder one Wednesday evening and the younger man nearly passes out. However, everyone’s accusations of him having a crush on you were met with immediate disgust because you’re his “sister.” In fact, he claimed on multiple occasions that you were the most despicable human being he’s ever met. “I pray that whoever I end up with is the exact opposite of my sister,” he mumbled one Sunday afternoon, frosting cupcakes in the kitchen. “She’s so fucking annoying. She doesn’t listen to anyone, no matter what they say. I don’t see how anyone could be attracted to her.”

“Ah, I don’t know man, I think she’s pretty cute.” Taehyung responded in jest, setting the completed cupcakes on a display pan.

“Stay the hell away from my sister you creep.” Jungkook all but growled out.

“Wow, the baby sounds serious,” Seokjin stated incredulously. “I didn’t know you could care about anyone other than yourself.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook replied, slightly embarrassed at being called out yet again for his so called selfish behavior. “She may be the worst woman I know, but she’s still my sister. I gotta make sure she’s well taken care of.”

“And you think I won’t do that?” Taehyung asked with faux shock. “I’m hurt.”

“Not a single one of you are good enough for my sister. She needs a doctor or a lawyer or someone super rich who can take care of her so she never has to work again. You guys all suck.” He stands up straight to admire his work before stating, with a frightening amount of cool, “If any of you guys tried it with her, I would kill you with my bare hands.”

So Seokjin tries his best to stay away from you. He attempts to keep his banter light, lessen his affection. He hopes to himself that you lose interest in the bakery, in the coffee, in him, but it’s difficult. You’re so easy to talk to. You think he’s funny, cracking up at all of his puns to the point of tears. When he winks at you, you smile so wide that he thinks your face might break. He falls harder for you every day.

It’s you that makes the first move though. It’s a balmy Friday night when you stalk in. Thirty minutes before closing, the bakery is empty except for two struggling rappers who loaded up on the discounted pastries that would otherwise get thrown away. You’re dressed up more than he’s ever seen you before, so much so that you look out of place standing next to the pastel pink sign touting the new peanut butter tira-miss-yous in your purple dress. “Well if it isn’t my favorite customer. What are you doing here so late at night?” Seokjin asks as you continue towards the counter.

“Bad date.” You mutter, before surprising Seokjin by pulling yourself up on top of the counter.

“Hey, who said you could sit up here? Didn’t anyone raise you with respect? That’s filthy! My sweets go up here.”

“I’m sweeter,” You quip and Seokjin chokes. You shift your body to face him a bit more. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Y-you—you can’t—Jungkook was right, you are disgusting.” He manages to stutter out, mind reeling at the thought of how sweet you actually were. “I have to clean that now. Get down.”

You ignore his request. “A pretty girl throws herself on a table in front of you talking about how sweet she is and you’re worried about cleanliness? Taehyung was right, you really are hopeless.”

He blanches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh, unmoving. “So bunny boy sets me up on this date right? He says it’s with one of his good friends who really inspires him. Someone that has helped him out a lot. I get excited because I think that it’s you. I mean, you literally gave him a job. How much more help can he get from one person? So I get all dressed up and ready to go only to have someone else show up at my door. And don’t get me wrong, the guy was attractive but he wasn’t you. He didn’t even make a single pun the entire time when there were plenty of opportunities to do so. He was so boring, Jinnie. Like, what do business lawyers really do anyways? The guy told me he hoped I had a good time, but I didn’t. So I decided to come here looking for an actual good time.”

“I… what?” Seokjin asks, unable to accept what you were implying.

“Oh my god, hyung, she likes you!” One of the rappers screams out from his table near the window. “Stop being dense.”

“I’m not—” Seokjin begins to yell back, but you cut him off.

“Jin, would you like to see a movie with me tomorrow night?”

When he looks at you, he sees a hopeful expression. He imagines closing up the bakery early and walking with you to the movie theater. He imagines what kind of snacks you’ll like and wonders if you’ll share them with him. He imagines wrapping his arm around you and how well you’d fit next to him. He imagines pressing his lips against yours in the dark, tongues wrestling against each other as his hands traveled down your body. He gulps. “Uh… yeah. I’d really like that.”

.

.

Seokjin’s not good at being in a relationship. He’s had a lot of toxic relationships in the past, with a lot of cheating and mental stress. He’s spent the last three years filling the void with a lot of meaningless sex. On more than one occasion, former friends with benefits came storming into the bakery to scold him for his lack of commitment. He focused on himself a lot; on getting through culinary school, on perfecting his skills in the oven, on opening his own shop. He tells you as much on the fourth date, hand wrapped tightly around your own as you walk through a flower garden. You listen intently, nodding your head and adding “ohs” and “ahs” when appropriate. Then you sit him on a bench and kiss him hard, tongue dragging against the roof of his mouth before whispering against his lips, “I don’t care. I like you anyway.” 

Seokjin is happy with you. He smiles for no reason during the day, sings louder in the kitchen when frosting cakes, cusses less when the chocolate doesn’t temper or the cookies burn. He feels lighter, knowing that come closing time he can be wrapped up in you. His friends notice too. Namjoon teases him about how much more cheerful he is, while Taehyung and Jungkook pry for more information. He offers them none, much to their chagrin. He wants to keep you to himself, afraid that if the others find out, they’ll ruin it for him. Especially Jungkook—though he thinks about the other man’s disapproval less and less as he spends more and more time with you.

The relationship progresses slowly. You go on a lot of dates, whispering in the back of movie theaters and stealing small kisses on street corners. Seokjin likes to hold your hand. He marvels at the way it fits in his own, how easily you are able to slide your finger through his as you talk about work or travel or a memory from your childhood. Seokjin likes to hear you laugh. You think he’s the funniest person you’ve ever met. He’s gone through a rolodex of puns to try and hear the bubbling sound that spills out of you. You laughed the hardest on the 7th date, plastic gun slipping from your grip at an arcade, when Seokjin tells you he wrote a dessertation on Sweetzerland in culinary school. You hug him tight, face pressed against his chest as you continue to giggle at his words. He thinks you fit well there.

You don’t sleep together until three months in—an eternity for Seokjin. He’s never had to wait that long, but he finds it hard to argue when you whisper, “not tonight,” in his ear. He always agrees, calming himself enough to make it through the rest of the date. He ends up jacking off to thoughts of how you taste in the shower. You’re the biggest tease when it comes to that—your taste. The casualness with which you insist that you are sweeter than any dessert he’s ever made always leaves him drooling. Eating girls out was never his favorite sexual act, but he thinks you’ll change that. 

“You can’t—you can’t just say those sort of things!” He yelled at you once, during your tenth date at a sushi restaurant. The waiter threw him a dirty look, as did a much younger couple seated next to you. He’s always louder than he needs to be, but you’re the only person he’s dated who never complained. Instead, you rolled your eyes at him and swallow your food.

“Why not?”

“We’re in public.”

“I didn’t say anything bad.”

“Don’t lie. Don’t pretend that you’re innocent! I can hear you. I have perfect hearing. Doctor’s everywhere are impressed by it. You can’t get those filthy words past me.” He berated, making you giggle.

You slid your hand over the table to grab his, kissing the back of it gently. He can’t help but blush. “Don’t be silly, Jin. I never said what part of me tastes better than strawberries, just that some part of me does.”

“Which part then?”

“Why? You want to try it for yourself?” He threw his head back with an annoyed groan at your words, making you laugh even louder. The couple shushed you both, yet again, shaking their heads as though you two are the immature ones in that situation.

When it finally does happen, much like the first date, it’s on your terms. You’re sitting in his apartment, legs thrown over his lap as you listen to him complain about a mom who ordered a cake of a whale for her son’s 8th birthday only to show up expecting a Beluga whale and not a Killer whale like Taehyung had decorated. Suddenly you sit up, arms coming out to grab Seokjin’s face as you set a soft kiss on his lips. Then a second. Then a third. With the fourth, you up the intensity by slipping your tongue into his mouth. He shuffles his body slowly between your legs, refusing to let your lips part as he hovers on top of you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down as you grind your center directly where his dick sits in his jeans. 

These types of makeout sessions have happened before; often right before you need to catch the train or bus back home. You always pull away after 15 minutes or so; that’s why Seokjin freezes when you whisper against his lips, “Do you wanna taste me?” He can’t formulate words. He’s thought about this moment for weeks now; planned a response for everything you could possibly say, but he’s coming up short. He’s sure he looks crazy, eyes bulging from his head. “Jinnie, say something.”

“A-are you… are you serious?” He manages to stutter out.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Oh my god, take off your pants right now,” he yells in excitement, sitting up on his knees. Your laughter rips through the air as he fumbles with the button of your jeans, shaky hands pulling them down your thighs until they get caught at your knees. He huffs in annoyance, lifting your legs himself to get the now offensive fabric away from you. As soon as the jeans hit the floor, Seokjin drops down to his stomach between your thighs. You open your legs with a content sigh, making him wonder if you’ve been waiting for this moment as long as he has. He drags his lips lightly over your thighs before placing a kiss on the crotch of your panties. You shudder. He chuckles. “Promise you’re as sweet as candy?” He asks, voice unintentionally deepening as he comes closer to his target. 

“Pinky swear,” you whisper. Taking this as his cue to move forward, Seokjin’s fingers gently ghost over the black fabric of your underwear before pulling the crotch to the side and exposing your core to the cool air. He takes in the fluid shapes and subtle wetness already gathering on your folds in awe, shocking himself with all the ways he could still find you beautiful. Closing the last bit of distance between you, he takes a tentative lick from the bottom of your slit to the top, the firm tip of his tongue pressing against your clit in the process. The action causes you to rock up, hands settling at the top of his head. “Fuck,” you whisper gently, the breathy sound going straight to his cock. He repeats the act once more, though this time his lips around your tender bud and he gives it a light suck. Your fingers thread through his hair tightly, guttural moan exiting your throat. Pride swells in Seokjin’s chest—he’s the reason you’re making those sounds.

“Jesus babe,” he murmurs, leaving open mouthed kisses on your thigh, “you’re even sweeter than candy.” You let an amused breath at his words, any laughter that would have bubbled up dying as those kisses reached your lower lips. “Can I take these off?” Seokjin asks, pulling further at your panties.

“Please.” With a bit more confidence than before, he moves to take your panties off completely. As he settles back down between your thighs, he sneaks a peek at you. You’ve relaxed back down on the couch, head leaned back on the armrest although your eyes never leave him. “Jin, please,” you whimper. Your words spur him on and he dives face first in your pussy, tongue working itself deep in and around your core. Soft whimpers turn to loud moans as he continues, only motivating him further. The need to make you cum becomes his only goal. “Fuck Jin, so goo—oh!” You moan out, jumping in shock when you feel his thick finger press against your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks, lifting his head up for confirmation that he can continue. With your rapid nods, he presses his index finger into you, sighing as he feels warm walls flutter and constrict around him. Then, as if another force has taken over his body, Seokjin surges his whole body forward to kiss you while he thrusts his finger at a steady pace. You readily welcome his lips against your own, not minding the taste of yourself against his tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Do you—fuck you are tight—baby… think you can cum like this?” He asks between kisses, your hips starting to buck into his hand. You mumble out an affirmative, pressing yourself closer to him.

He loses track of himself in the moment, one finger becoming two, thumb circling your clit, lips sucking bruises into your neck as you start to make desperate pleas in his ear for more, more, more. You give no warning when your orgasm hits you, just tensing up against him as your walls clamp down hard against his fingers. He litters your face with small pecks as he works you through it, fingers slowing only when he feels you begin to come down from your high.

“Jesus Jin, you’re really good at that,” you remark in a small voice as he removes his fingers from inside you, aftershocks continuing to rock your body.

He can’t help the cheshire grin that settles onto his face as he lifts himself off of you to get a good look at your fucked out form; your eyes are so dilated that they are nearly black, sweat sits at the edge of your scalp and brows, and your shirt is bunched up around your chest. He wants to kiss you again, wants to feel your legs wrapped around his waist, wants to feel everything you have to give and then some. “Baby,” he starts, suddenly feeling constricted by all the clothes he is wearing and how hot the room has gotten, “I could eat your pussy for hours on end, but I am so fucking hard right now. Please don’t leave me hanging.”

“Fuck that’s hot… do you have a condom?”

“Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom right now, come on!” Seokjin shouts, jumping up and pulling you off the couch with him, leading you through the short hallway to where he sleeps nightly. It’s a flurry of movement between the both of you, hands making bold passes over newly uncovered body parts as all remaining forms of clothing are removed. He lets an uncharacteristically animalistic growl when you finally wrap a hand around dick, moving it up and down at a near glacial pace. “Faster,” he finds himself begging, breathing harder when you comply with his request. He lets it go on for a while further before he gently pushes you on your back underneath him, hand digging in the drawer of his bedside table as he searches for the pack of condoms he knows is there. However, his movements stop and his mind goes blank when he feels you reach a hand for his cock again and grind his sensitive tip between your still soaked lips. He’s reeling, knowing he could slip right in if he wanted to, if you let him, despite how irresponsible it would be.

“Seokjin, condom! Hurry up!” You whine out, as if seeing his internal dilemma. Your other hand claws at his chest to further get his attention, snapping him out of his reverie and back into action.

When he finally locates a condom, he’s nearly rabid. He tears at the package and slips it on with such roughness that a small part of him worries he might break it. The bigger part of him, however, is focused on how delicious you look underneath him and how delicious your pussy will feel around him. He lets out a small huff when he finally gets the condom on, lining himself up with your entrance. He wants to take his time, wants to tease you a bit, but it takes one drag of the head of his cock against your slit for him to forget about all of that. He pushes inside of you slowly, warm walls clenching around him when he’s fully seated inside of you. 

It goes by faster than expected. Your body accepts him so easily, like it was made for him. You suck him back in each time he pulls out. You tilt your hips up when he begins to thrust harder, eyes rolling to the back of your head each time his hips meet your thighs. His hands roam the expanse of your body, gently squeezing areas that are softer than he expected and running blunt nails against your sternum before one of them snakes behind your neck and pulls you up to meet him for a sloppy kiss. It’s messy, more tongue than lips and it makes you clench even tighter than before. Seokjin’s not sure if you’re close, but he knows he damn sure is. 

“Honey I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.” He bites out, slowing down slightly as he lays you back down.

“Then cum,” you whimper back, though it sounds much more like an order. Hitching your legs up on his waist, Seokjin uses the last bit of energy he has to drill into you, chasing his orgasm until it crashes over him like a tidal wave. It’s the most pleasure he’s felt in months. All of his senses are overloaded as he cums, pressing deep inside of you. His hips stutter slightly as he milks himself to completion, feeling even more content when you run your fingers up and down his arms slowly. 

It’s that sweet gesture that brings him back down to earth. He takes his time removing himself from you, unsure if he wants to leave now that he knows exactly what you feel like. Placing your legs off of his hips and shuffling off of the bed to throw away the condom, he quickly returns and flops on his back next to you.

“We gotta—we have got to do that again.” Seokjin finally breathes out, heart still racing. You curl up beside him, skin sticking to his own in a way that disgusts him slightly; yet, he still pulls you closer. “I didn’t make you cum.”

“You made me cum once.”

“But not on my dick.”

“I still enjoyed myself.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s an honor thing. You have to cum on more than my fingers.”

“Like right now? Or—”

“Don’t joke like that. My dick can’t handle it.” You giggle at his words and he feels something rising up in his chest that he can’t identify. Despite hearing all of your moans, whimpers, and whines for the past hour, he still thinks your laughter is the best sound in the world. 

And later, when you start to drift off on his lap during a 90s movie marathon, Seokjin whispers promises into your skin that he’s never made before. You don’t say if you hear them, but relax further in his embrace.

.

.

“Oh this kid looks just like Jungkook.” Seokjin says one evening, sitting on the bed in your apartment. It’s the first time you’ve invited him in, having asked if he would spend the night because the bakery opens later on Saturdays and you want to sleep in with him. It’s such a cute request he can’t deny it. He thinks you’re so cute that it’s getting hard for him to deny you at all. He worries it will become a problem later, but he doesn’t dwell on it when your whole face lights up with happiness. Your apartment is quaint, with big white walls covered in pictures and knick knacks from your various adventures overseas. You float around the bedroom grabbing things for Seokjin—towels, extra pillows, a spare toothbrush—and laugh at him. “What’s so funny, huh?”

“That is Kook.”

“Really?” He takes the framed picture from your nightstand and looks at it more closely. It’s for sure you in the picture, just much younger. You sport messy hair and large t-shirt combo that would be embarrassing to most, but you’re holding on to a much smaller and skinnier kid with such excitement that it just reads as adorable. “Wow, you guys have really known each other for a long time.”

You let out an airy laugh of disbelief, placing the things on a chair placed in the corner of the room. “Since he was born.”

“Oh, so that’s why he calls you his sister,” Seokjin starts with a nod of understanding. “I thought he just had a crush on you or something. I didn’t realize that you’ve known him for so long. Your families must be really close right?”

You laugh again, but the tone is off. Seokjin catches it, but you’re crawling on the bed next to him and wrapping an arm around his back before he can question it. “Baby,” you start, voice light but edging on serious, “you know I’m actually bunny boy’s sister right? Like we’re really related. His family is my family.”

It’s a gut punch, hearing those words come out of your mouth. He isn’t sure how to process and he’s sure he looks like a fish as his mouth opens and closes as he tries to find something to say. He settles on, “What?”

“Jungkook is my little brother.”

“But you guys don’t even look alike.” He responds, feeling his brain short circuit. “You literally couldn’t be more different. And you guys don’t even have the same names. You can’t—it doesn’t…”

You sigh, unwrapping your arms from around him while shaking your head. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well for starters, we’re not blood related at all.”

“So you’re not siblings then?” Seokjin asks incredulously, because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Biologically no,” you stress, grabbing the picture out of his hands. There are red indentations on his palms from where he was squeezing it so tight. “But, legally speaking, we are siblings. All the paperwork I have will tell you I’m part of his family. But more than that, all of us were raised together as brother, brother, and sister.”

It really is a complicated story, Seokjin thinks as you explain your family history to him. Friends of friends, broken trust, being in the right place at the right time, and international trips brought you into the Jeon family. You never looked at Jungkook as anything other than family; Jungkook never knew you as anything other than his sister, biology be damned. “He never talked about you though,” Seokjin admits, head pounding from information overload. “Like ever. He only ever mentioned his—well your—brother.”  

You roll your eyes at this information, but don’t seem surprised. “He was mad at me for a long time. He thought it was stupid that I left to try and reconnect with my bio family. Do you know he can hold a grudge for a really long time? He wouldn’t answer my phone calls for a year after I first left.” You let out a small sigh, flopping back on your bed. “We only really just got back to a good place. I think that’s why he’s been so clingy lately.”

Seokjin squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. “Ugh, Kook is really gonna kill me,” He mumbles, laying down beside you. 

“Why would he do that?” You whisper, moving your body to curl into him. “He’s the reason I started dating you in the first place.”

“What are you even talking about?” Seokjin groans out. “Don’t say false things just to comfort me. It won’t work.”

“I’m serious. He’s like your biggest fan. He talks about you all the time. Hearing and seeing how much you cared for him meant a lot to me. It made me like you for more than just your looks. I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself in front of you so many times if I thought you were a bad guy.”

“Really?” 

“Really.”

Seokjin hums mindlessly, thoughts still a jumbled mess in his head from all the information he has received. One thing sticks out in his mind though. He turns his head to lay a soft peck on your forehead. “You know you never embarrassed yourself in front of me, right?”

“What are you talking about? I practically begged you to take me on a date.”

“You saved me from myself. I embarrassed myself way more. I could barely talk to you without becoming a mess and tripping over all my words.”

“I wouldn’t want you any other way. You’re my mess.”

“Oh my god, Jungkook was wrong. You’re the best woman in the whole wide world and you're all mine, mine, mine!”

.

.

“Kim Seokjin, you motherfucker—” Here’s the thing, Jungkook is Seokjin’s youngest friend. He plays the role of the baby well, to the point where Seokjin feels as though he’s raised him. It’s so easy to forget that Jungkook is not as young as he acts; he’s always so kind and affectionate. He’s also the hardest worker at the bakery, always coming in early and staying late to make sure everything is finished. However, the boy was so much stronger than he looked. He worked out 6 days a week for fun and described getting tattoos as a pleasurable experience. Of course he would be able to pick Seokjin up and pin him against the wall by his throat. 

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down!” Namjoon shouts, running up to try and pull the younger man away. Jungkook does not relent, fighting against his friend to continue to try and choke Seokjin. “Kook, listen man! This is not the way to handle this!”

“He fucked my sister!” He screams and the accusation sounds so much worse coming out of Jungkook’s mouth, especially because it’s true. Except there is so much more than fucking that’s going on, but he can’t get the words out of his mouth to say that through Jungkook’s yells. “Thought I wouldn’t find out? Thought she would keep it a secret?” He spits out, still struggling against Namjoon.

“It’s not like that—” Seokjin begins, voice smaller than he anticipated, but Jungkook cuts him off.

“Bullshit!” Jungkook screams, voice cracking with rage. “I know you. I know how you are. You think you can just use my sister to get off?”

Now it’s Seokjin’s turn to be angry, with the thought of anyone only being with you for your body making him see red. “Do you really think I’m like that? You really think that I would hurt her like that?”

“Never stopped you before,” Jungkook responds sarcastically. “What did the last girl say again? Jin just wants a human fucktoy.” Seokjin winces at the words he once found humorous. The girl, a pretty florist he met at a bar, came in with the intent to tear him to shreds. She was met with indifference and laughter. He never realized how quickly her words would come back to haunt him. “You think my sister is a human fucktoy? Is that what it is?”

“Shut up,” Seokjin barks out, unable to think of you in that way.

But Jungkook is no longer fighting against Namjoon, content with his words bringing the pain. “You’re not good enough for her. You’ll never be good enough for her. I’ll kill you before I ever let you treat my sister like one of your whores.” 

“That’s enough,” Namjoon orders, frustration painting his features. “This isn’t going to solve anything. Jungkook, you should leave.”

Jungkook scoffs, pushing Namjoon away from him. “You’re on his side,” he accuses, pain in his voice, “You think it’s okay that he’s fucking my sister.” 

“I don’t think anything,” Namjoon stresses. “But fighting in our place of business is not smart. People can hear us out there and whether you like it or not, your outburst is gonna affect more than just Jin. This can be dealt with later.”

Jungkook is quiet, though he trembles with anger. Seokjin wonders, briefly, if the man will swing on Namjoon. However, Jungkook just shakes his head and states, “Fuck your business. I quit.” 

.

.

“Are you going to fire him?” You ask over the phone that night, worry evident in your voice. You canceled your date upon finding out what your brother did. You told him good faith when he tried to set you up another date with a doctor he knew, hoping he would be happy for you. He was not. You said you had to talk to him, make sure you understood where he was coming from before you passed judgement. He was your brother after all.

Seokjin wants to laugh. He can’t. He’s miserable. He wants all of this to end, but he doesn’t want his relationship with you to end. He’s tired. “I can’t fire someone who quit.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s going to apologize to you.” 

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”

But two days later, he finds you standing at his apartment door, Jungkook behind you looking at the ceiling in avoidance. Seokjin fights against his urge to hug you, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and plant a wet kiss against the skin that leaves you squirming and pushing him away from being, “gross!” He stares at you silently, but you smile at him like nothing is wrong. “Can we come in?” You ask sweetly, stepping in at Seokjin’s nod. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch, making you scowl. You turn to face the man Seokjin now knows as your brother and snap, “Get in here right now.”

The man obeys you, stepping inside of the apartment and shutting the door behind him. No one makes a move. Seokjin wants to choke on the tension. Finally, Jungkook lets out a deep breath and states, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You say with a leading tone.

Jungkook clenches his fist, jaw tightening. “I’m sorry for choking you in the bakery. It was unprofessional of me to do so.”

“And?” You continue. Jungkook closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Jungkook!” You shout, causing the man to flinch, yet his silence continues. Seokjin watches in amazement as you reach your hand up to grab the younger boy’s ear and tug hard. Jungkook howls in pain, trying to pry your fingers away. You don’t let up. “I don’t care about your pride or your protection. You are going to apologize to Jin properly right now!” Jungkook whines loudly. You twist your fingers and the boy’s knees buckle. The scary beast who pinned Seokjin against the wall was gone. In his place was a child, weak and subdued. He wants to laugh, but doesn’t. He’s sure that if he does, it will come back to haunt him later.

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it.” Jungkook screams out. With a final pull, you let go. Jungkook rubs his ear lightly and huffs, glaring at you. You return his stare. With another sigh, he turns back to Seokjin and states, “I crossed the line. I shouldn’t have hit you or said those things. It was wrong… but—”

“No buts!” You shout out, hand reaching up again. Jungkook catches it and grasps it tightly in his own hand. He shushes you with a look that says more than Seokjin could ever guess. He drops your hand and you let it rest at your side with a sigh.

“Can you leave?” Jungkook asks you. “I just want to talk to him alone. I won’t—I will not put my hands on him. I promise.” There is a sincerity in his tone that Seokjin has not heard in a while. It gives him hope.

Your head rolls back and forth, as if weighing out your options before stating, “Ten minutes, Kook. You hear me? Ten. And if he tells me you so much as even threaten him, you’ll have a whole lot more to be worried about than your ear!” At his aggressive nod of understanding, you turn to Seokjin. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You state, before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. Seokjin notices the way Jungkook’s jaw tenses at the open display of affection. With one more stern look to your brother, you exit the apartment. 

There is a beat of silence before Seokjin suggests they sit down in the living room. It’s awkward. Jungkook has been in this room before, even passed out there a time or two; but he’s as stiff as a board when he sits on the couch. He refuses to look at Seokjin, eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him. His breaths are measured and he opens and closes his mouth a few times as he decides what to say. 

Finally, he speaks. “You don’t seem to understand that she’s my sister. My only sister, Jin.”

“I understand th—”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. I know I’m younger and you think I act like a kid, but I’m not. Not with her. I’ve spent my whole life protecting her. People always try to take advantage of her because… I don’t know. So many reasons.” Jungkook stops, struggling for words. He takes another deep breath and finally looks at Seokjin. “When we were younger, boys would bully her for being adopted. She would act like it didn’t bother her, but I could see that it did. I must have got into twenty fights making sure they kept their mouth shut when it came to her. After everyone, whether I won or lost, she would always be happier. And that was all that mattered. When she moved away I was so angry because who was going to protect her out there? Her bio family is shit. They never wanted anything to do with her. Then she started dating this guy who cheated on her and I couldn’t even get to him and I—” He stops again, having worked himself up. “I want her to be happy, okay? I don’t want her to be sad anymore.”

Seokjin is shocked. He’s never heard Jungkook speak so seriously and with so much passion. His eyes are glassy, tears clearly threatening to spill over. He looks ragged. There are dark circles under his eyes. He’s not even holding himself up properly anymore, body limp in the seat. It’s clear this has been weighing on the boy and Seokjin feels a wave of guilt wash over him. This isn’t what he wanted to happen at all. 

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin states, breaking the silence, “For not telling you. For letting it get this far. As your boss—no, as your friend, I should have let you know.” Jungkook nods, swiping at his eyes roughly. “I do… I do care about her a lot. I don’t look at her like… if I only wanted her for sex, I would have stayed away.”

“Do you… do you love her?”

“I…” Seokjin hesitates. He’s never thought about it really, loving you. He’s never even thought about love in general. For years, he didn’t think he was capable of loving someone romantically. But when he’s with you, everything feels like it’s in its proper place. “I think—I do. ” 

Jungkook hums in response, throwing his head back on the couch and really relaxing for the first time since he stepped through the door. “She loves you too,” Jungkook says as though it's a hard fact. Seokjin feels his throat tighten at his words. It’s been a long time since he’s been loved. “Like a lot. That’s the only reason I’m here… ”

“I won’t hurt her.” Seokjin says adamantly, hoping he sounds as sincere as he is. 

“You better not.” He mutters. There is another beat of silence before Jungkook meekly asks, “Can I get my job back?”

“Ask Namjoon.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

So it ends like this:

After many apologies, Jungkook gets his job back. He’s put on samples duty for a month, standing outside of the bakery with a new pun-filled sign wrapped around his neck everyday. He hates it, especially when you show up to snap a picture and post it on your Instagram. Namjoon reposts one of them on the Baking News SEOUL account and it becomes the most liked picture on the whole page. You and Seokjin howl with laughter when you see the numbers, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. He still doesn’t approve of the relationship—at least, not completely. He rolls his eyes every time he sees a kiss or a hug; he insists you don’t stay in the bakery long, shoving you out of the door after five minutes because he’s sick of seeing you flirting with his boss; he scoffs when you come in more dressed up than usual for date nights. Yet, he makes sure Seokjin knows what types of flowers you like getting on your birthday and what your ring size is, “because that’s information you’ll need sooner or later.”

On Sundays, Seokjin closes the bakery early and brings you to the kitchen. He stands behind you, hand on your hip as he instructs you on how to ice the practice cakes he baked for you earlier. He knows you won’t do it perfectly, knows you’ll eventually dip a finger in the frosting to try it for yourself, knows you’ll try to get him to do the same and put some on his face when he refuses. It might start a food fight that will take too long to clean up; might make him bend you over the counter and fuck you until your moans reverberate off of the walls. Regardless, it always ends with you kissing him all over his face, exchanging soft “I love yous” until you’re ready to go home. Seokjin thinks he’s okay with both scenarios; thinks he’ll be okay with both for a long time. 

[soriseerakyra]

Flight of Fancy -5- (Black!Batmom)

“You know we haven’t gone on that date yet.”

Perhaps if this had been the first time that he had said something like that to you would have been surprised. However, it had already been three months since you had come to work for him. More than enough time to get used to his advances. Not that they were unwelcome in the first place.

“We did go on a date,” you comment feeling a smile across your face, gaze trained on the screen in front of you. You were waiting for his X-rays come in.

“That’s how I started working here, remember?”

“Mr. Wayne,” you say in mock irritation, hands on your hips. “No one is demanding you to be the first human test subject.”

“The only test subject, unless you’ve found some mice running around here that I don’t know about.”

“Just the ones native to the Gotham underground,” you quip back. “And besides, if you’re so worried about not being able to feel your arms in the morning, find me someone that has much less to lose than the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company.”

“And have someone try and plant a spy and figure out what we’re doing, not a chance.”

“You brought me here to make experimental tech, and it sounds like you’re saying that anything I make you want me to try it out on you first.”

“I don’t sell anything that I wouldn’t use on myself first,” he says with a shrug.

“A wholesome business practice,” you say looking at him skeptically.

“What can I say, I’m a decent guy.”

“If that’s what you call it,” you say with a smirk as you focus on the screen in front of you. A download prompt had just appeared on the screen, his scans had just arrived.

“You know you don’t have to be here today; the test is tomorrow. I’m just going to be calibrating the machine to focus on any areas that look weaker than the rest on your X-Rays.”

He had been planted in one of the chairs in your workshop since you had arrived this morning, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was anxious about you seeing his X-Rays. That or he just wanted the chance to the pester you.

“And miss the chance to ask you to dinner, no way.”

Seemed like it was that latter.

“Maybe when this is done,” you say non-committally.

In truth, when you had agreed to date and work for him, you had meant it. And while you had been glad about the job, the space, the access, and the ability to limit that amount of people you encountered everyday had been wonderful; you had been hesitant to date him.

Not that you hadn’t wanted to, you looked forward to him coming down to visit you and the smiles he sent you were enough to send you to cloud nine. Still, you worried about what it would look like if you had agreed to go out with him. There was the age difference was bound to be an issue, but not the only one. Sure, the fact that you weren’t like the tall model thin girls that he usually dated, but there was alse the unfortunate reality of the scrutiny and vitriol that you would have to deal with because of your skin color. And to make matters worse, those worries came second to your other feeling, guilt.

You felt horribly guilty about what happened between you and Kenya. One of your oldest friends simply cut out of your life, like the two of you meant nothing to each other. While you would never feel bad about taking a job that would be, in the long run, better for you than any of the others had been, the way you left things off had been bad.

If you gave into Bruce, and dated him like he wanted, wouldn’t you just be proving Kenya’s point? She knew that he would be attracted to you, and she used that to her benefit and you were angry at her for it. And yet here you are, almost in the exact same postion that she had predicted that you be in, and yet you were fine with it. Perhaps agency was the issue, in this case you determined your fate while in the other, she held all the cards.

‘And I want to be in control for once,’ you think to yourself slightly bitter.

“That bad, huh?”

The questions startle you out of your thoughts and your left blinking, looking at your employer stupidly.

“Sorry?” You ask somewhat sheepishly.

“The scans,” he clarifies. “Sorry, just judging by the frown on your face I thought that the results came in.”

“Oh, right,” you say flashing him an apologetic smile. “I was lost in thought, sorry.”

Oh, and look, the X-Rays just downloaded from your computer, but that can’t be right.

“I think that they sent the wrong ones,” You mutter.

“Why do you say that?” He questions.

Your eyes flick over the screen of your computer, barely registering the fact that he had stood and was making his way over to your desk.

“Well, firstly, the folder says these are from six years ago,” you say looking at the date on the folder before opening one of the scans. “I really should be working with something more recent.”

“Hmm,” He’s standing behind you now looking at everything on your screen. “I have a feeling everything would be pretty much the same, just slightly worse.

“And second, holy shit,” you say, with wide eyes, gasping at the sight. “How are you standing right now?”

While you weren’t an expert at reading X-rays you knew enough to see the severe trauma that had been done to his body. And if you were right, judging by the callousing around his joints, this wasn’t the result of a horrible accident, but this was repeated trauma of years. And if these dates were right, there was not telling how bad a shape he was in currently.

“Is this a joke?” You ask spinning around in your chair to face him. “You’re about to keel over any second. Are these really yours? You don’t have to trick me if you want me to use the machine, I’ll do it if you want it that badly.”

He gives you a smile, “It’s not a trick, I’m pretty messed up.”

“What are you doing to yourself?” You question worriedly, your thoughts immediately going down a dark route.

“I like to mountain climb,” he says with a shrug, hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks, “I’m just not particularly good at it.”

“But this doesn-”

“Why are you so worried?” He questions with a smile. “This just means if you can fix this, you’re guaranteed to be a wealthy woman and a certified genius.”

“But-” you start anxiously.

“If it bothers you so much you should come with me to dinner tonight, you know just so you can be sure that I don’t pass out in the middle of the street.”

"Mr-"

“Bruce.”

“Bruce, sir, this is serious,” you say with slightly narrowed eyes. “You need to go to the doctor like now or something, I don’t know.”

“Let’s say it is serious,” he says the joking tone leaving his voice as he addresses your concern. “If I am about to ‘keel’ over like you say what could a doctor do for me at this point?”

“I- nothing,” you answer sadly.

“So what would be the point?” He asks.

“There wouldn’t be, I suppose,” you relent. “But you have to be and pain.”

“Luckily for me, I happen to know a genius that just so happens to have a device that could possibly make at least some of my problems go away.”

“Manageable,” you correct.

“Manageable,” he agrees.

Your eyes find themselves looking at the pale polished linoleum on the floor and your lip drawn in between your lips in uncertainty. On one hand, he was right, if everything went well tomorrow, you could really help him. On the other you were really thinking about calling Mr. Fox and having him help you drag the man to the hospital. Although would he really help you? If anyone knew Bruce it had to be him, right? So, there was a high probability that he already knew what kind of condition the man was in and thought the same way he did about it.

“Alright,” you say with a sigh. “But if this doesn’t work you have to find something that does.”

“I’m touched really-”

“Also, if you die, how will I get paid?”

He looks at you blankly for a moment as if trying to assess the seriousness of your comment, “You’re lucky I like you enough not to fire you.”

“You wouldn’t fire me until after we on a date.”

“What happened to the timid girl that I hired, I remember her being much more agreeable.”

“Well, when you have to beat an old man off with a stick every day, you tend not to feel as shy.”

“You’re killing me,” he says fight the smile from coming to his lips.

“Not as much as you’re killing yourself with your _‘mountain climbing’, _” you counter back arms crossing.

“I could take you, I think you might enjoy.”

“No thanks, I more of a dinner and a movie type of girl.”

“Good then I’ll pick you up tonight for dinner.”

“I didn’t agree to that,” you say with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t think we’ll have time for a movie though, since you know, tomorrow is a big day,” he says backing away from you and phonily checking his watch. "Hmm, maybe a party instead."

“Did you hear me? I didn’t say yes.”

“Though if we have a party I'll need a little more time to plan everything,” he says weighing the options with a furrowed brow.

“I can’t believe you,” you say feeling a relenting smile coming over your face. “Does the word 'no' even register in those ears of yours?”

He eyes you curiously for a moment, "I'm sorry I missed part of what you said. It must be my aging ears."

You can't stop the snort the nearly erupts out of you.

You meet his eyes once again, the casual intensity of his gaze made you flick your eyes away from his, but you manage a relenting nod at his suggestion. He made you nervous, the same way he did when the two of you first met. The thought of subjecting yourself to that torment, seemed like madness. You had been denying yourself something that you had wanted from the first time you met and now you were giving in. Was that really the smartest thing to do?

“Next Friday it is, then, ” he says with a smile.

“If it works,” you stipulate feeling a need to give yourself an out just in case you changed your mine.

“It will,” he promises, clearly having more confidence in your abilities than you did.

He tosses you a wave goodbye as he exits your isolated workshop.

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself.

What had you gotten yourself into?

"What if I kill him, Mr. Fox?" You ask the older man who is standing next to your console, hands positioned authoritatively behind his back. The both of you were watching your subject from the observation room.

Bruce lay on a medical table in what was sure to be a freezing room, only in his boxers.

This was it, the moment that all three f you had been waiting for, although Bruce probably more so out of the lot of you.

You were worried, for many more reasons than just your experiment. It seems Mr. Wayne was more than a little secretive. And while you were aware of that when you took the job, some of his precautions were starting to seem more than a little bit ridiculous. Trying to make sure that you could mitigate whatever horrible side effects that could happen, you had suggested the hiring of a few nurses and maybe an actual doctor, to watch over him and his vitals while the experiment.

He had refused. Reiterating that he had complete faith in your expertise.

'Doesn't meant that I won't accidentally kill you,' you had thought to yourself when he had flashed that winning smile of his that made you agree to all of his requests.

"It would be a problem if he doesn't survive," the older man eventually responds to your question with a chuckle. "Try not to kill him."

You knew he was joking and that he was jut trying to keep you loose, but it only made your shoulders tighten with more anxiety. Why did neither of them seem to see this as the big deal that this actually was? Why didn't they take the possibility of the horrible pain he was about to endure seriously? Sure, he probably wouldn't die, but he could be seriously hurt, you could render him immobile or worse. Seeing the brusies and scars on his body when he began undressing made you think that he was in worse condition then you could actually fathom.

Whit a shuddering breath you try to calm yourself down. If they weren't going to worry then there was no reason that you should.

"This is going to hurt, okay?" You call to your patient lying on the table in the other room. You wondered how your voice sounded coming through that speaker. You imagine it was robotic and cold, making the message you delivered even harder to digest than it already was.

Despite that, however, he leans up and flashes you a smile through the observation window.

"I've been through worse," he says with a mischievous glint in his eye. He must have been horrible to look after when he was a child.

"So you people keep telling me," you mutter to yourself turning your attention back to the knobs and switches in front of you.

You take a moment to center yourself and confront the reality of what is happening. Hovering a few feet of the man who was helping to finance your dream, is your prototype. Well, it's more than that now isn't it? It means much more.

Eight stainless steel mechanical appendages hang limply over the table, suspended by a long arm that goes from the table to your console that holds the medication that you would be pumping into the billionaire in front of you.

The medication: A concotion of manufactured stem cells, cortisone, and other regenerative properties. You were sure that it would help some, you just weren't sure how much. Not only did the damage that he suffers seem to be exceedingly extensive, but there was always the chance that he would react negatively to the new chemicals and fluid running through his system. You weren't sure how well he would be able to function if something like that should happen. There was also the possibility of rapid degeneration of the new cells in his body, meaning that he would have to constantly have to experience the trauma of the procedure if he wanted to retain the same level of functionality after an extended period of time.

In the bright room of your lab is perhaps what scared you most about the upcoming procedure. Attached to the spider like legs of your machine were eight large sterile needles that would be digging themselves into the space between his joints, injecting him with the concoction. He kept saying that he would able to handle whatever pain that you subjected him to, but you weren't completely sure that he understood exactly what all that entailed.

There is a clock in front of you and you watch it carefully. As soon as it reached 11, you would start the experiment and you would know if the life you had so carefully built up for yourself would come crashing down or not.

The ticking of the clock hits your ears like a hammer, and you feel your throat tighten with anxiety.

“We are beginning,” you say announcing he start of the experiment.

Your mind is whirring at with all the possible outcomes, and you barley register Mr. Fox’s “good luck” and the fatherly squeeze that warms your shoulder.

With a heavy sigh you type in a few commands to the monitor in front of your and execute the experiment. As the machine begins to whir to life in front of you, you find yourself grateful that you had the wherewithal to automate the program, you have now idea if you would be able to even man the controls if it was something that you had to do manually.

It doesn’t time take long from the arms to take their positions and begin the procedure that you had only seen in your mind’s eye up until that point. They move to align at his ankles, his knees, hips, and shoulders. You see the fluid flow from the console, feeling the syringes that each was holding. The covers that were keeping the needles clean are shed and they glint in the harsh white light with their sterile glory.

‘This is it,’ you think to yourself, biting your lip in anticipation. It occurs to you that perhaps you should offer some words of encouragement to your patient. Your eyes flash to his face and his eyes are closed and his body is completely relaxed, almost like he is in some sort of meditative state, clearly, he is more ready for this than you gave him credit for.

There is a ten second countdown that flashes in the corner of your screen. The needles are all hovering above their chosen targets. The AI would handle everything else, all you had to do now is watch.

As the number’s count down the needles a lowered down until they press against his skin, forming an area of depression. There is a slight hesitation in the machine as it waits for the clock to reach zero. When it does reach that fateful number, you find yourself having to swallow a gag as the flesh across his body is pierced. To your surprise the man doesn’t let out a grunt or even flinch when the needles enter his flesh. Clearly, whatever ever he had been doing to get his body in such a disastrous shape prepared him from the pain of the procedure.

Still, though, this is only the beginning.

You see, the moment that needles hit the target not only on the screen though, but also through the slightly convulsive flinch that runs through his body. They had hit the joints that they were supposed to be targeting.

There is a feral groan that rips itself from his throat next, and you only have to through a passing glance at the screen in front of you to know that the they are now digging through the damaged areas of his joints to find the optimal place to start injecting the fluid.

You can see the pain that is beginning to etch itself on his face. You feel slightly guilty because a part of you wants to mute the sounds coming from the room as the groans begin flowing from his mouth. While you knew the had pain had to get worse in order for him to get better, knowing that you were the one that was causing him that level of discomfort hurt your heart. You wanted to make him, and others, feel better not cause them pain.

You stop yourself, however, when you see the flexing of his hands and his toes. His body clearly, trying to adjust and fight through the pain.

“I know this is hard Mr. Way-, Bruce,” you say, speaking to him through the intercom, “But you are going to have to do your best not to move so they can have the best chance at to inject the medicine where it needs to go.”

At your voice he freezes, almost like he has been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Like he just remembered that he wasn’t completely alone. His eyes, still closed, seem to tighten. His hands ball into fists and then they fall limp, the same with the rest of his body. He relaxes and all traces of pain seem to fade as if he was never troubled to begin with.

_‘His force of will is amazing,’ _you think to yourself, more than impressed watching his heart rate calm down from its stress speed.

There is a clicking sound as the machine arms have locked into place, they have found their targets and are ready to begin. There is another countdown as the medication is primed and warmed in the machine, the fluid spinning rapidly in the syringes.

“So Bruce,” you start, pausing to make sure that the man is cognizant enough to hear you. He may be so focused on blocking out the pain that he might not register what you are saying to him. Luckily, you see him move his head in your direction, giving you the cue that he as listening to what you are saying to them. “We are about to inject you with the medication, it shouldn’t hurt any more than anything you have experienced already, but it’s going to feel… weird.”

“_‘Weird’ _she says,” he says scoffing slightly.

You can’t help the small smile that comes over your face, relieved that he is aware enough to respond, no matter how sarcastic it was.

“We are beginning,” you say once more as the countdown reached zero once more.

It starts. The fluid begins to be pumped into the man’s system.

He’s quiet at first, the only sign that he is feeling what’s happening a slight groan leaving his lips. His feet start to flex again before him regain control of them and forces them relax. And though you can plainly see that he is trying to control his body as best as he can, there are some things that lie beyond his control.

You see it first in the hands, the fists that are so badly trying not to rip out the needles that are inside of him, are turning red. In fact, all of his skin is turning a deep shade of crimson. There is a sweaty sheen that begins to encase his body and his mouth opens as he begins to pant, the heat rolling over him becoming more than uncomfortable.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Mr. Fox asks you curiously, but there no traces of panic in his voice. You doubt that you would know if he felt uncomfortable until it's too late though.

“The medication needed to be primed and activated for it to work,” you explain. “In order it for it it to activate it needed to be heated up. He feels hot, because the liquid is hot, as it begins to settle he should begin to cool back down.”

You manage to stop yourself from adding an “I hope” to the end of your sentence. There was no reason to doubt yourself now, it’s too far in for you to do anything but to ride the up and downs of the procedure.

Despite the boost of self-confidence that you just tried to inject yourself with in order to come yourself down, it is quickly outweighed by the dread that rolls over as the instruments of your console begin to blink red in warning.

Everything happens so quickly, you're surprised that you were able to keep your head from popping off.

As the alerts flash on the screen, mostly stating that his temperature was reaching critical levels, the man undergoing the procedure begins to thrash and groan uncomfortably, his body rising and arching of the bed.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself as you are forced to activate emergency restraints. Two halves of a large silver ring announce themselves with an aggressive whirring and a clanking sound as the connect over top of Bruce’s body. Once they connect, they slowly begin to press down to lock him in place, he begins to shake.

Panic consumes you as your eyes flash between to the screen and back to the man. There isn’t much left that needs to pump in and yet he is in so much pain. Should you stop? Would he want you to stop? Is it right for you to stop? Your finger hovers over a button to terminate the procedure and you feel yourself gulp as the idea of pressing it bounces back and forth between your mind. It’s then that you feel the familiar hand on your shoulder, another fatherly grip there to reassure you.

“Almost done, now,” Lucius says with a hum. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw a hint of worry flash in his eyes, but there is a confidence there that reassures you and you find yourself relaxing. You warned the man about what would happen, and he told you to continue. If he has that much faith in you, you should have faith in that he would be fine and pull through.

It’s an agonizing ten minutes, that feels like ten hours. The medicine emptied into him, the needles pause their movement, a pause given in an effort for the body to cool down and the patient to relax. He groans and twists as best he can for another five minutes, but soon, he falls quiet. His body falls still. The needles, pull back and the machine lifts back up moving back into a corner. The procedure had officially finished, and you’re pretty sure that you didn’t kill the billionaire that paid you to do it. You look at the monitor, his heartbeat is steady, and his temperature is slowly returning to normal.

“Bruce?” Your question was spoken through the intercom, he doesn’t respond and all you can see is the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

“I imagine he’s passed out,” Lucius says with a bit of a chuckle with his hand sliding into his pockets. His calm attitude makes you feel like that this is something that he’s dealt with before. What kind of people had you agreed to work for?

“I’ll come back in a few hours, I’m sure he’ll be awake then.”

“Wait your leaving?!” You balk at the older man looking at him with wide worried eyes. “What am I supposed to do about him? What if he’s got brain damage or he doesn’t wake up?”

The old man gives you a small knowing smile and it frankly pisses you off a little bit, why is it they have a habit of making your concerns seem trivial. “Trust me, he’ll be fine, he’s been through worse.”

“Been through worse than mountain climbing?” You question incredulously, arms crossing in irritation. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Mountain climbing, skydiving, base jumping,he’s adventurous”, he says making his way to elevate and summoning it. “Don’t worry, he’ll pull through. And I’m sure you’ll get a bonus for all your hard work.”

You're left alone both agitated and concerned, “Can’t get a bonus if he doesn’t wake up.”

You look back at the procedure room and feel guilt racking up in your chest. The medical instruments and restraints removed from the table, he looks like a cadaver. It didn’t help that the red flush is now gone from his body and he looks disturbingly pale under the harsh lights.

With careful steps, you rise from your desk and tiptoe over to the door separating you from him. With a sigh you resign yourself to the fact it’s your duty to care for him now. It really would have been so helpful if he had allowed you to hire a nurse or two.

You enter the room and immediately make your way to one of the cabinets to fetch a blanket to cover him. There would be no telling how long he'd sleep, but he didn’t have to be cold while he did it, conscious or not.

Draping his body in the blanket, you find yourself tucking him in like a mummy, the way that your mother used to when you complained about being cold. It always kept you warm, so it would do the same for him… right?

You feel a bit of relief wash over you when you look at his face. His pale visage was slowly starting to regain some color, the blue tips of his ears flushing pink as the body begins to acclimate his temperature once again.

For now, your experiment, it seems, is a success. You hadn’t killed your boss, hurray!

Looking at him he seems very much alive, although in a state that you had never seen him before. Unguarded. It’s a strange thing to see his face at rest. A part of you didn’t know it was possible. He usually kept a flirty smirk on his face, but the few times you had seen with anything but that look he had been sporting a heavy frown and furrowed brow. There was always something that seemed to nag you about him. While you enjoyed your time with him and loved your job, you were almost certain that the flirty banter and attitude he'd greet you with wasn't the real him. Perhaps that is why you denied his request for so long. If you had agreed to go out with him who would show up to that date? Bruce the flirt, or the man who let that angry frown form on his face when he thought no one was looking. You weren’t sure that you wanted much to do with either of those people.

Looking at him now though, he looked more real. You imagine it’s because when he’s like this he’s not in control and doesn’t have the ability to act in a way that he thinks he should.

Still, if he was awake, you would have liked that a whole lot more.

When he’s was as bundled up as you can possibly make him, you leave. Back to your observation room and sit and monitor his vitals and wait.

And Wait.

And Wait.

And…

Your neck hurts, it’s aching. Your thighs feel a little numb too, and your shoulders aren’t doing any better than the rest of you. Maybe if you roll around a bit you can get comfortable and go back to sleep.

Shifting your hip to the far side of your chair, you take some unwanted pressure off of your body and soon find yourself relaxing once again into a much needed slumber.

Well, you would have, but there is a deep chuckle bouncing around in your ears and you aren’t sure where it’s coming from.

Your eyes blink open slowly, they feel heavy and you knew you had been asleep for more than a few hours. Your vision is blurry at first, the shock of the white lights confusing their focus for a second and making you unsure of your surroundings. You were sure of one thing though, there was a tall figuring standing in front of you.

“Hello?” You question, voice heavy with sleep.

“Hello,” the deep voice almost coos at you amusedly.

You know that voice and that condensation.

“Bruce?!” You question sitting up straight in your chair, eyes suddenly as awake as the rest of you are.

There he is, standing tall and strong as if he hadn’t just gone through hell. There is a little bit of weary look about him, but he looks more than healthy. And judging by the smirk on the face, more than ready to get on your nerves.

“You’re okay,” you sigh out appraising him. Nothing looked broken or contorted, and he hadn’t grown and extra arm out his back.

“I think so,” he says, flexing his hands and rolling his wrists around. “A little sore, though.”

“You should feel like shit,” you say bluntly. “But in a few days, maybe a few hours even, you should start to notice a difference. And we should schedule a time for you to do follow up X-rays.”

He nods as if he’s listening to your advice, but you can tell he’s already fascinated with how his body feels. He rolls his shoulders back and you must stop yourself from staring at the tightening fabric of his back. He brings his hand up to his face and looks at the backs and the palms multiple times. You find yourself jumping slight surprise when quickly jab one of his arms out aggressively in what would have been a knockout punch if someone was on the other side. His mouth curls up as a satisfied smirk crosses his face.

“I think you just saved my life,” he says somewhat boyishly, a giddiness in his tone that you had never heard before. It leaves you slightly stunned.

“Were you trying to punch the mountains?” You ask slightly confused by the punch.

He gives you a deep, genuine belly laugh, and you feel a warmth spill over you when it happens. You’d like to hear him laugh like so much more.

He gathers himself with a calming sigh and gives you a rather affectionate look, “With this you’re going to change the world you know that?”

“Well, there are still a few kinks to work out,” you say, averting your eyes feeling heat scorch your cheeks.

“Don’t do that, you’re brilliant,” he reemphasizes earnestly. And you wish you could stop your heart from beating so fast, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. This time, though, you decide to take the compliment in full.

“Thanks.”

“I’m still throwing that party by the way.”

’Shit’

[achieveandhunt]

live typing extra life 2019

part 2

warning: this was a mistake and i’m in the grapes

this starts right at Facilities vs AH. link to first post

let’s fuck some shit up babEY

oh what the fuck they’re playing a prerecorded video

last year was a fuckin doozy, nobody forget that

“legends of the under achiever” i didn’t know someone wrote my biography

why do i hear geoff screaming “FIVE FUCKIN FOUR” in my head, like in the legends of the hidden temple minecraft videos

jeremy looks. so dead inside on this fine november evening

ryan buzzing while they’re trying to explain the rules

my video quality went down so much that i thought i was watching someone playing roblox for a second

ryan “salty mother fucker” haywood has made a lovely appearance. he’s my favorite

michael and lindsay looking so domestic makes me so happy,, they’re my parents

someone donated under the name “ryan goes feral” uh??? yeah? you say that like it’s a bad thing??

oH FUCK MICHAEL GO DRIVE WIN PLEASE

jeremy HAS BROKEN OUT THE GLASSES SHIT’S SERIOUS

NO THEY’RE LOSING GOD DAMMIT

ʳʸᵃⁿ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ, ᵠᵘᶦᵉᵗˡʸ: ʰᵉˡᵖ

JEREMY IT’S TIME TO TEST OUT THAT NONEXISTENT GAG REFLEX AND SWALLOW THE OPPONENT’S CONTROLLER

oh nvm they’re winning again lmao

OH FUCK thEYRE LOSING

oh nvm

OH FUCK

oh nvm they unplugged his contoller lol

OH FUCKING TH EY LOST MICHAEL JONES MY HEART IS BROKEN

the amount of people watching has gone up from 32k to 40k in the past fifteen minutes

michael “hurry up you dumb cunts” jones

“oh don’t worry about destroying our cabinet, it’s essentially matchsticks”

“how are you feeling john? are you ready for this?” “MM M M Mmm mM”

TEAM NICE DYNAMITE IS NEXT AND IM READY FOR PERMANENTLY RINGING EARS FROM ALL THE LEET DONATIONS

oH god here we go

“hopefully they haven’t been saving them all day” oh honey. you’ve got a big storm coming

if xavier slaps gavin i think gav might go up in a puff of smoke

i did the math, they went up 45k+ within five minutes of team nice dynamite showing up on stream

GAVIN AND MICHAEL ARE GOING TO DIE

THERE’S GONNA BE A MOONBALL SIZED HOLE IN GAVIN’S CHEST

ryan and lindsay both donating a grand during this segment... so good

the day gavin free successfully gets a tattoo is the day i drop dead

lindsay saying she didn’t want the TND tattoo on michael but she agreed because gav is michael’s boi :((( 

i’m too sleep deprived for this i might cry

oh god michael’s punching the floor

i’m too sober for this

EIGHTY EIGHT LEET DONATIONS IN TWENTY MINUTES HOLY FUCJKIGN SHIT YOU GUYS ARE GONNA BE THROWING MOONBALLS FOR FUCKIN SIX YEARS

on a sentimental note- i love how much collective love we have for gav and michael,, they deserve it all

milk boarded has some not-so-great connotations attached to it

gavin “the bullshit bitch” free

a mark nutt reference?? in my 2019 extra life????

this just in: sarah is going to obliterate gavin

oh. oh my god. that was the sound of a wet fish smacking a wall

why is jeremy the liquor goblin walking like a crab that has a bird attached to its back??? see: flapping arms

that beer and milk concoction... gag

“drink that milk yard”

“YOU GOT MY TOES MILKY”

no. nO MICHAEL NO YOUR INTESTINES NOO

michael “the milk’s in my brain” jones

“stop pouring it on people!” “iT’S HARD DICKHEAD”

lindsay is now. taking a milk shower

*caiti brings a small roll of paper towels* *gavin gently places a single paper towel on the massive puddle of milk*

no LINDSAY NO THINK OF THE CHILDREN

gavin: this has gotten way out of hand. she’s... she’s swimming in an inch of milk! everyone knows you should swim in at least two!!

the fajita seasoning will solve everythinG everyone calm down

fiona: yeah this is my first extra life. jack: and what were you expecting? fiona: this. exactly this.

ah yes. the bunny suits have arrived and michael is ready to tackle gavin

aaaand here comes the AH fanfic. it can only get worse from here so buckle up fuckos

“holy fuckeroni”

“re-reanimated trevor”

michael is so fucking smashed and god i wish that was me

“cum-ductor”

fiona “this is a white man” nova

“bone-ating” *leet donation* *leet donation* 

“ready set blow” made me genuinely bust a lung laughing

aaaand michael’s licking the floor which is to be expected

jeremy “i’m gonna actually harm you” dooley

IF ONE MORE PERSON BRINGS UP RANCH IM GOING TO WALK TO AUSTIN AND PROJECTILE VOMIT ON THE OFF TOPIC SET

no JEREMY NO YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE I THOUGHT YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS GET OFF THE F  L O O R

don’t get close ups on jeremy’s tongue. don’t do that to me. i don’t want nightmares

“fuck root” “let’s just fucking fuck”

1 2 3 CONSENT

michael has gone full gerkie

alfredo’s look when larry is reading the part about trevor choking him is how i feel about everything that’s happened in the past twenty minutes

almost 300k in less than an hour 

fiona saying “i don’t want this” overlaying michael humping a trash can

“TAKE THE TACO CHAD”

aaaand michael’s in the trash can

nO why is there a triangle is this a POETRY READING ALL OF A SUDDEN

oh thank god it’s over

OH FUCK THERE’S A N EPILOGUE

aaand trevor’s dead again. poor treyco

DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS DUSK BOYS EVERYONE PUT A CUP IN YOUR PANTS

people singing along... what goes on

why am i downloading this fuckin song asap

jeremy turning his phone flashlight on and waving it like he’s at a concert god dammit i love these people so much

those are my BOYS

oh my gosh they’re still singing the song. why is my heart so happy from this i need to get slapped

“come on you’ve never been waterboarded before gavin?”

everyone standing in a circle shining their flashlights at gavin

someone surprise them and instead of a moonball just yeet a whole gallon of milk at them

actually, on second thought, no

OH god GavIN Is GOING to Die 

gavin “i forgot to breathe” free

several milk explosions

gavin “my brain is cold” free

michael has milk dripping from his ears

i’m about to pass out i don’t know what’s happening

michael is in the grapes right now man

how many moonballs? oh, only 107. :)

i’m not writing this part- you guys have to watch the moonball segment yourself, if you didn’t watch it live!

team nice dynamite finishes up with over 300k!! holy shit, that’s so cool! this community is awesome

werewolf is up next!

xavier is such a gentleman can we keep him

alfredo: *chooses to kill miles* trevor in the audience: *silently freaking out*

xavier is about ruin another man on stream

miles has no self preservation instinct

barbara is now smelling fiona

this just in: i love alfredo and 100% would have done the same thing

trevor running up to film alfredo getting smacked. what an icon

alfredo SCREAMING oh my god i felt it in my soul

the high-five of the backs in solidarity of intense pain

miles choosing alfredo is so fucking good

and also, i feel so bad 

his heart might shoot out of his asshole this time guys

oh NOOO HE’s so bruised :(((( fredo nooo :((

oh my god it’s gotten to the usual point in the stream where you start to question whether someone is going to die this time

rip blaine but at least i think he can take the hit

he can but ouch it still hurts me 

barbara “i’m participating in the game” dunkleman

yo miles might win this game

the crowd when someone needs to shoot barb: TREVOR TREVOR TREVOR! trevor, with the strength of a thousand suns: N O

people are now chanting about shooting an unprotected trevor. the man already died once this stream god dammit

alfredo is about to throw hands for fiona

that’s a big F in the chat for miles, but his loss is well deserved

xavier’s hands could serve as a defibrillator

alfredo showed jeremy his chest and jeremy shied away as if he was looking at the sun

 --- i’m taking another break to finish an assignment---

i’m barely alive and it’s ready set show time 

oh god please no more shock collars

i’m so fucking tiiiiredd please take thge res t of this post  wigth  a grain of salt lbecasue i can hardly type at this ponitn 

“do you want to control the shock collars” “will there be repercussions” “no” “fuck yeah i’ll do it then”

“smother the children. steal the baby” “DONT STEAL THE BABY TREVOR”

lunging forward “s c a r e  t h e  b a b y” “OKAY I’M PASSING THIS ONE”

“you can’t bake popcorn????” jeremy hits the floor

alec and matt clearly = dream team

oh thasnk god the shock collars are on their arms now i was stressed out for chris earlier

this stream does not promote recreational nyquil usage 

i don’t even know how to explain the pure insanity of what ready set show has become

alec has become this whole segment

i would write more but i have no thoughts because my brain doesn’t work

larry “makes people fuck other people besides their wife” insert last name that my brain can’t come up with

anyways. marbles

oh. no marbles

i’ve blacked out idk what happened during backwardz compatible

i mean i was awake but does that really mean anything at this point

SPPOKU PSOOKY SPPOKKKY SPOOOKY !!! FUCL YEAH 

cole is so good during this segment

oh so many 1337s right away 

the real scariest thing during the segment: being genuine

oH my god the scream being pitched up. i have fucking dogs outside of my house now

i don’t fuck w/ ghosts no thank you

“aba-jail” wow if u guys weren’t gonna get haunted before you will now

okay i’m about to pass out i have to take a nap

oH fucking I SLEPT until thirty minutes before the en d  fuck

conclusion: this community is incredible and raised an unimaginable amount of money for charity. the fact that rooster teeth does this every year is awesome, and honestly, it makes me feel hopeful in times when things aren’t so great. so yeah! for the kids & stuff 

[hookedontaronfics]

Honky Dancer series - Chapter 2

Chapter title: Contracts and options Read the previous installment here: Chapter 1 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Slight cursing A/N: I hope you love the drama in this chapter as much as I loved writing it! More mature themes will develop, so be warned! Enjoy! X

My alarm went off far too early because I had spent most of the night tossing and turning with both nerves and excitement over my audition. I felt I had done well and made an impression; I knew I had worked my butt off, not only during the audition itself but also just to get there in the first place. I was tired enough to stop at Notes Coffee Roasters and pick up an iced latte, figuring I could spare the calories, on my way to my 6 a.m. aerobics class. I truly loved teaching but if there was one class I would gladly give up it would be aerobics; who in their right mind wanted to get up before the sun did just to sweat for 45 minutes? I was never awake enough for the cheeriness of my suburban football-mom students.

I’m pretty sure I sipped half of my latte down in one pull and groaned against the subsequent brain freeze as I opened up the studio. It took everything in me to summon up the energy to get through aerobics without shouting my instructions in a bitchy manner, and I was positively exhausted by the time I made it through conditioning, beginning basics, intermediate amateur, and one of my personal favorites, toddler tap. I mean, there was very little actual tapping going on, but the students always made up for it in the cuteness factor.

I eagerly checked my phone when I went on break but I hadn’t received the call I’d been hoping for. Mads and I quickly walked to our favorite lunch hideout, a place called Hemsley + Hemsley inside the Selfridges. I ordered my go-to cold-pressed green juice and we decided to share the orange-blossom-infused yogurt and honey-filled chestnut crepe.

“Any news?” Madison asked me as we tucked into our food and juices.

“Not yet. It’s killing me,” I admitted.

“So tell me, how did it go? You’ve got to fill me in!” she grinned. I told her all about the process and how I’d made some friends and hoped we all got in together before she asked me point blank if I’d run into anyone famous while at Paramount. My face flushed but before I could tell her about Taron my phone rang.

“It’s them!” I hissed at Mads in excitement, before picking up the call. “Hello?” I said, probably sounding way too eager.

“Hello love,” an incredibly familiar voice said on the other end, and I fairly choked on my pressed juice.

“Hi, hey,” I said, trying to recover. “Um … What do I owe this pleasure?” I asked awkwardly, and Taron just chuckled on the other end.

“I wanted to personally deliver the news myself that you’ve been selected as one of our dancers. So congratulations, love. I hope you’re very pleased, as I am,” he said with a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, I mouthed to Mads as she squealed in her seat, unaware of who exactly I was talking to.

“I ...yes, of course I’m incredibly excited,” I laughed after I managed to recover my composure. “I just wouldn’t have expected Paramount to make you their errand boy,” I teased. Mads gave me a funny look, desperate to know what was happening.

This earned a hearty laugh from Taron on the other end. “I asked to deliver the news personally,” he grinned. “You are, after all, my favorite dancer.”

“That’s entirely too kind of you to say,” I said, taken aback.

“Well I did sit through 40 solos just for the privilege to watch you dance so I feel I have a right to make that assessment,” he said lightly.

“Oh my God, I don’t deserve for you to think that,” I replied.

“Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” he said gently before clearing his throat. “So you can stop by the studios at your convenience today to fill out the contract and hopefully that will be amenable.”

“Good, of course,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with work.”

“Perfect. See you then,” he said nonchalantly. I wasn’t sure whether he actually meant that or it was just a standard thing to have said, but we took our good-byes and I sat there in dumbfounded silence until Mads couldn’t take it anymore.

“What is all of this?” she asked, making a circular motion in the air around my face, which was probably as red as a robin’s breast.

“I was getting to that part,” I laughed, hiding my face behind my hands for a second. “I ran into the film’s lead, Taron, when I was at auditions yesterday. Well, he actually opened a door into me, and I fell and it was spectacularly embarrassing,” I admitted with a laugh. “But somehow that possessed him to watch us all dance… Out of pity? I don’t know,” I shrugged as the incredulous look just grew on Madison’s face the more I rambled. “So anyway, he just called me to tell me I was cast as a dancer so... I’m in!” I squealed at that.

“Taron didn’t watch your ass dance out of sympathy, are you crazy?” Madison giggled. “He’s probably fancying you,” she said with a smirk, and I shook my head.

“No no no, we’re not even going there. Me, dancer. Him, actor. That’s like different species and different species don’t mix,” I laughed, as Madison threw an orange slice at me.

“You are so daft!” she laughed. “How can you not see when a boy likes you? You with your gorgeous strawberry-blonde locks and blue eyes and freckles. It’s disgusting, really. I just look like the boring brown blah ugly duckling next to you,” she said a bit wistfully, chin in her hand.

“Oh come on, Mads, you’re gorgeous. And it’s not like I exactly know how to pick ’em, considering Zayn and all,” I sighed, referring to my ex.

“Yes well, the world isn’t full of Zayns. He’s extra special,” she said, stabbing a bit of crepe with extra gusto and poking it in her mouth.

“If by extra special you mean extra wanker, then yeah,” I said, shaking my head as we both just giggled.

“Well I’m sure Taron’s not like that at all,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t watched every YouTube interview out there,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “He seems incredibly sweet to people,” she pointed out. Leave it to my best friend to be obsessed with him; I had tried my hardest to convince her to audition with me but she said her skills outside of ballet were rusty at best and she would be just be embarrassing herself. I appreciated her teasing me about it though; I couldn’t deny Taron was handsome, though I didn’t exactly download every picture to my phone.

“He’s very nice, I can already tell that. And maybe he even thinks I’m pretty, sure. But we’re only co-cast members, you know, and I’ll just be in the background. He’s really the star. Besides, he doesn’t even know me. Not like we had a chat or anything. He had to call me by my bib number first, after all,” I laughed.

“Just never say never, Juliette. Life can surprise you,” Madison grinned at me. But I had already had plenty of surprises in my life, and I was ready to be done with that. We finished our lunch and made it back for afternoon classes; thankfully I only had two more to get through before I could head over to Paramount. I was absolutely knackered by the time I packed up my dance bag and pulled sweats on over my leotard and tights. I waved to Madison as I passed her classroom and she gave me a thumbs up before I headed to the tube station, responding to a few texts from my ex and feeling once again annoyed at his lack of responsibility. You see, I had to stay in contact with him because we both had one shared thing in common: A certain precocious 7-year-old daughter named Clara.

<You promised me you’d be able to watch her while I’m in rehearsals. I really need you to step up. This isn’t negotiable and mummy can’t watch her all the time either.> I texted back, sighing slightly to myself.

I knew relying on Zayn had been a bad idea to begin with, as he’d never proven himself mature enough to handle being a father in any regular capacity. He’d do well for a couple months and then fall off the map again, drinking and losing his job and couch-surfing with friends. But for Clara to not know her father had made me feel like a terrible person, so every time he came around promising that he’d cleaned up I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I hardly knew what it was to not be disappointed in a man any more.

<I know, and I will. It’s just for tonight, Letty, we have these tickets…>

<Yeah and those excuses don’t cut it, Zayn. It’s always excuses. Your daughter is more important than some show. She needs a father so I can stop explaining at school why this completely bright student has behavioral issues. But you would know that if you were involved.> I rubbed my temple, annoyed and too exhausted to have this fight all over again.

<You’re absolutely right, actually. I’ll cancel the plans and try to sell the tickets. Sorry to bother you.> He texted back, and I groaned slightly. Of course now I felt like the asshole, and it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy time with my daughter.

<I appreciate the offer, I do. But you should go. Just drop Clara off with my mum and I’ll get her on my way home. But I need you to pick her up first thing in the morning for school and don’t be late this time.>

<You’re an absolute saint, Letty> He sent back, making me cringe at the pet name he had given me that now left a bad taste in my mouth. I sighed and texted my mum a head’s up about the change in plans, grateful for everything she had done for me and Clara over the years. I don’t know what I would have done without her help, to be sure. Being a single mum had proven incredibly challenging and I wasn’t sure how I would have been able to afford child care and rent on my meager paychecks. I probably would have had to give up dance but my mum knew how important that dream had always been for me. I had more stability now then when I was performing, but that didn’t mean the challenge to give Clara a stable life didn’t remain.

I was lost in thought by the time I arrived at Paramount, but I tried to put all of that aside so I could focus on the task at hand. I’d also received a steady stream of excited texts from Leah, Pietre, Dennis and Markus; all five of us had made it onto the cast and it felt like a bit of a celebration. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going but helpful signs had been posted about on the walls, so I followed the giant black arrows through the maze of halls until I arrived at a lobby, where a couple other dancers were sat waiting.

“Juliette!” someone called my name. I spied Markus against the wall, waving at me and I happily jogged over to sit next to him as he moved his bag out of the way. “I saved you a seat,” he said, flashing me a grin of exceptionally perfect, white teeth. While we chatted about our mutual love of ballet and our tragic falls from grace [Markus, too, had experienced a career-ending injury] as principals, I noticed up-close that his eyes were a lovely shade of pale grey. I’d never quite seen eyes like that before, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit mesmerized by both his gaze and his instant charm. It was nice to feel like someone was on my level and could understand what I’d fought through to get here. Other dancers came and went, and when Markus was finally called back to the office I texted Madison furiously about him, unashamedly giggly about it.

<Does someone have a bit of a crush or what?> Madison teased me lightly.

<You don’t get it, he’s rather dishy and so charming and suave. And he gets me.> I wrote back.

<Yeah and what about Taron?> Mads asked.

<What about him? He’s nice to me, nothing more.>

<Yeah sure. But don’t give me any more of that “He’s an actor and would NEVER notice a dancer like me” bullshit because I’m not buying it.>

<Besides, if Taron’s here I haven’t seen him. And what am I supposed to do anyway, hang them up next to each other side-by-side and compare their traits?>

<Just don’t be blind to what could be good for you, that’s all.>

<AND Clara. Don’t forget, this is a packaged deal.> I wrote back, smiling as my mum sent me a sweet Snapchat of my daughter playing piano. She finished the song and, beaming into the camera, smiled, waved and announced that she was going to be as good as Elton some day, which made me laugh softly. I’m glad my mum and I had passed down our impeccable taste in music already to my daughter; it was so much better than the trash punk her father listened to.

I happened to look up just then and saw Taron leaning into the lobby from the doorway, clearly searching for someone, and his face brightened as soon as he spotted me. He strode in and despite the obvious gasps of recognition from the other dancers there, he beelined straight for me. I was both flattered and embarrassed about that fact, all too aware of the jealous expressions tossed my way.

“You made it!” Taron grinned at me, as if he’d been worried I would have decided against this whole thing.

“Of course,” I laughed, adjusting in my seat at the same time he surprised me with a hug so I nearly knocked my head into his teeth. “Shit, sorry,” I apologized but he must have found my awkwardness amusing because he laughed and shrugged it off.

“Continuing that klutzy streak I see?” he teased, raising a characteristic eyebrow at me.

“Always,” I said with a laugh. “Truly don’t know how I stay employed at the dance studio, to be honest,” I continued the rolling joke.

“Oh, do you teach?” he asked, earnestly curious in me.

“Yeah, mostly young kids,” I smiled at that. “I really do love it, getting to inspire the next generation of dancers.”

“I can see that,” he studied me for a moment, and I had to look away from the intensity of his green eyes. “You always seem so passionate about it, I can’t imagine that not translating to every area of your life.”

I was about to respond but just then Markus returned and somehow seemed to have a double-take when he noticed Taron sitting in his vacated seat next to me. He came over to me and, right in front of Taron, told me he looked forward to dancing alongside me and then point-blank asked me if I wanted to get drinks with him some time. I felt absolutely flustered at his offer and managed to stammer out a ‘yes, sure, love to’ before Markus leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“Cheerio,” he smiled to me, flicking the tip of my nose lightly before sweeping out of the room.

“Well that was a production, wasn’t it,” Taron remarked, the buzz of something low in his voice.

“Mmm, dancers are dramatic,” I tried to laugh, but Taron was no longer smiling.

“Tell me about it, love, I’m an actor. I get being dramatic but that was something else,” he replied, giving me a slight chill down my back, but I had absolutely no time to react because my name was called then.

“I should … get in there,” I said softly, as Taron rearranged his expression and put a smile on his face. If I hadn’t been so focused on him I might have lost the nuance of that.

“Of course you should,” he replied with a nod. I got up and walked into the office, Taron’s steely gaze following after me. I did my best to focus on the contract terms and everything that would be required of me as I signed form after nondisclosure form, but something had just happened back there that I was having trouble deciphering. I figured I should probably run it by Mads because she seemed to have a knack for understanding people. I was still distracted by the time I finished the paperwork and was handed a stack of information and rehearsal schedules, and so when I exited the lobby and turned the corner I ran straight into Taron, managing to drop my stack of papers all over the hallway floor.

“Jesus Churchill Jones, what are you doing here?” I asked in surprise, as Taron crouched down and picked up my papers for me.

“I thought I’d walk you out, if that was alright?” he asked. “I know you were weirded out earlier and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, if a little miffed,” I shrugged as we started walking back through the labyrinth of halls toward the exit, Taron still carrying my papers. I realized that I was just inherently trusting Taron to lead the way, figuring he already knew the place like the back of his hand.

“It just seemed a bit possessive to me, the way that dancer acted toward you,” Taron tried to explain.

“Possessive? How?” I laughed lightly at that. “Markus and I got on quite well before you showed up.”

“But that’s exactly it. He shouldn’t have felt threatened by me at all. I’ve just seen it before,” he said, his eyes trained on the floor. But then he reached out for my hand and stopped me, turning me to face him. “I’m saying this completely as a friend, just be careful with him.” There was something so deeply vulnerable in the way that Taron was looking at me that I felt I had to take what he said seriously. I couldn’t detect any ulterior motives there, so I filed the warning away in my mind and half-wondered if Taron could sense my weakness for men who seemed so polished on the outside but could secretly be snakes.

“I’ll be careful,” I said, as much to make Taron feel better as to remind myself. We continued walking, as I asked how things were going with him. He filled me in on everything he had to accomplish as filming neared, learning the piano, working new arrangements of the music, and all of the pre-production work that had to happen. It really kind of amazed me how dedicated he was to the project, and even more so how highly he spoke of Elton himself.

“Well, I should stop boring you,” Taron chuckled as we arrived at the exit doors, but I shook my head.

“You’re absolutely not a bore. I’m sure I could listen to you talk about it for hours on end,” I smiled genuinely at that.

“If we both weren’t so busy, maybe I’d ask a certain dancer to have dinner with me some time so then I could truly bore her for hours,” he said with a wink, his demeanor completely changed from earlier. He was at once adorably flirtatious with me, and I couldn’t help but swoon slightly.

“Maybe she might just say she’d love to,” I grinned back. He fished a pen out of his pocket and scrawled his phone number across the top of the stack of papers before handing them to me.

“We’ll plan it… eventually,” he grinned before giving me the “call me” gesture and making me laugh.

I took my leave, Taron holding the door for me as the perfect gentleman he was and waving to me long after I’d hurried down the street. I felt my heart warring inside of me a bit, and I had no idea what I was supposed to think. With these thoughts burning into my soul, I took the train across London to pick up my sweet daughter. At least I still had that to look forward to, I thought as I made sure to transfer Taron’s number into my phone before I forgot or misplaced it.

<Hey, it’s me, your favorite dancer!> I sent a quick text, just so he had my number as well and definitely not expecting the immediate reply I got back.

<And saved. If you send me a pic I’ll add it to your profile.> My stomach suddenly lit on fire with nerves at that, for no bloody reason at all. I had all of my contacts with photos, so it only made sense that Taron might as well. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the request but the idea of sending him my face made me feel some kind of way. I swiped through my pictures, most of them stupid selfies, but I finally decided on the professional headshot I’d had taken for the audition. I felt it showed the best of me, and I looked half-decent enough, dare I say pretty. The photographer had at least had the sense to focus on one of my best features; my blue eyes stood out like sapphires.

Taron immediately sent me back one of his own, a decidedly more personal shot but he looked gorgeous none-the-less. I attached the photo to his profile and then stashed my phone for a moment, needing to focus on my daughter as I hopped off the train at my stop and dashed for my mum’s house. I let myself in and found them in the kitchen, my daughter drawing a picture that she immediately abandoned as soon as she saw me.

“Mummy’s here!” she squealed, running into my waiting arms and hugging me tightly. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, my darling,” I said, running my fingers through her tangled bright red curls; where she got that color was beyond me, but I loved it. “How was school?” I asked.

“A bit of a bore, really. Teacher says I’m too smart for my class,” she added importantly.

“Hmm, well, hopefully you didn’t sass her too much,” I sighed, giving my mum a knowing glance.

“I didn’t!” she said, putting her little hands on her hips.

“I’ll have to have a talk with your school when I can fit it in about moving you a grade, but otherwise I guess you’ll just have to pretend to not be bored, Clara-bean,” I said with a laugh. “Don’t want all the other students to think you’re a know-it-all.”

“They already think that, mum,” she said dramatically, to which my mum shook her head.

“Perhaps you ought to put her in the performing arts academy instead,” she pointed out as I bit my thumb in thought.

“You’ve got a fair point, mum,” I smiled. “Thanks for watching her, again. I’d say I owe you but at this point the debt is quite unpayable.”

“Oh hush now, Juliette. I will never turn down time with my grand,” she said, giving Clara a hug and helping her clean up her mess on the kitchen table while I took a chance to use the toilet.

<Mads… I’ve got to phone you as soon as I get Clara down to sleep tonight!> I fired off a quick text.

<Oohh did something happen?> she asked immediately.

<You could say that. Things have got a fair bit confusing.> She sent back a couple emojis and question marks and I sighed. <It’s too long to type out. Just have your phone on you.>

<Forget phoning me, I’ll bring the wine. 8:30 okay?>

<God I love you. See you then.> I finished my business in the toilet and made sure my daughter had all of her things before we took the tube back to our home. I made dinner, we took Troy out for his evening walk, and soon I was getting my daughter bathed and brushed and ready for bed. I read her a small story and tucked her in, kissing her forehead sweetly as she hugged her plushie unicorn to her. I couldn’t help wishing that I wasn’t the only one bidding her sweet dreams and turning off the light; what I wouldn’t give to have a man in the picture who wanted to be there for us both. But that felt as much a fantasy as the unicorns I’d just finished reading about.

I checked my phone and had a couple missed texts from Markus, just sweet messages making sure I’d made it in for the night. I texted back in affirmation and wondered if Taron had totally missed the mark; I hadn’t gotten any weird vibe from Markus until I ended up between them both.

I had just gotten the dishes cleaned up and put away when Mads rang. I popped open the door and let her in; she was carrying three bottles of wine, which made me laugh. There was no way we were going to drink that much; we both had early classes to teach in the morning. Still, I retrieved a bottle opener and glasses and we popped each of them open, having a sip and agreeing that the moscato was the best option.

“So tell me!” she said, sitting cross-legged on the couch and sipping her wine as I did my best to retell the whole scenario, her eyes growing wide and then wider after I told her I now had Taron’s number too.

“They had a mental cockfight over you,” Madison giggled over her glass of wine.

“What? You’re insane, no. No… right?” I said. “No…that’s crazy,” I added for good measure. 

“To be fair, it sounds like this Markus started it,” she smirked. “But Taron totally dished.”

“Ugh, English please,” I sighed.

“They both like you and tried to outdo each other,” she rolled her eyes. “I can practically see the puffed-up chests now.”

“Stop,” I laughed, throwing a cork at her and making her squeal. “That is not how it went down. Taron was trying to warn me, as a friend.”

“As a future person who wants to get in your pants,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

“Mads, you’re making me mental!” I said, tossing the rest of my wine back and nearly choking as the liquor hit my throat. “It wasn’t like that with him. You didn’t see the way he was trying to look out for me.”

“In all seriousness, babes, I think you should really consider your options here.”

“My options. You say that like I have them, like I could just choose,” I said with a huff.

“Well they both asked you out, didn’t they?” she grinned, not remotely fazed by my tone. “See who impresses you more. That’s what I would do.”

“Date two guys at once?” I laughed, shaking my head. “Isn’t that a bit scandalous? I don’t wish to shame my mum.”

“It’s only dating if you call it that,” she smirked lightly.

“Oh Mads, you’re devious, aren’t you,” I said, shaking my head.

“Just live a little, Juliette. You’ve been banging on about how awful Zayn is for 6 years now. You might as well try and move on.” I couldn’t deny that she had a point there. Maybe the distraction would be a good thing.

“And what about Clara?” I asked softly. “I have to consider her.”

“She will be fine. Kids are resilient and adaptable, far more than we are. And as far as Markus or Taron are concerned, cross that bridge when it comes, you know? Just start from the beginning. Go to drinks, go to dinner. Have some fun. The good Queen herself knows you need it.”

We talked and drank some more, far more than we should have, and Madison ended up crashing on my couch because she was too wine-sick to get herself home. But I truly didn’t mind; it wasn’t our first and wouldn’t be our last late-night chat, and Clara considered her an auntie. I gently pulled a blanket around her snoozing form and made sure she was comfortable before shutting the lights off, a small headache beginning to throb. I got myself ready and changed into jammies before crawling in under the covers, bumping my phone slightly and causing the screen to illuminate. I had a text from Taron waiting, his face smiling out at me. I quickly opened it, my heart beating a tiny bit faster as I tried to focus my drunken, exhausted eyes enough to read the text.

<Get ready to dance, love. It’s going to be a wild ride. Sweet dreams.>

“Holy. Shit,” I breathed out loud, closing my eyes and totally unable to process what he meant. But oh, was I thrilled. A part of me felt more alive and excited than I had in probably ten years, when boys still meant adventure and romance and sex and love and sunsets on the beach and drinking too much and making out in the backseat and all of those magical things I felt I had given up on. To feel that breathless anticipation again made my world shift on its axis. The problem, of course, was that I wasn’t exactly sure who had caused that shift.

Find out who Juliette might choose in Chapter 3 Here!

[just--another--daydreamer]

Admiration

Thor x male reader

Fandom: Thor (movies) Genre: Fluff Requested (by @wsvie-13 ): Hello!!! I really adore your writing and I saw that your requests were open 💖 if it’s no trouble, could you please do a male reader insert with Thor where the reader works as a programmer and hacker for Tony Stark and helps out at the Avengers compound sometimes. So like MR is just this huuuuge fan of Thor’s and just completely freaks out when he sees him for the first time- oof please and thank you 💛💖 Warning: Anxiety, Awkwardness Words: 1.4k Author's Note: I’ve got the feeling that this is really weird

Requests are closed!

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The only reason you had gotten that job as a hacker at the Avengers headquarters was, that you had hacked yourself into Tony Stark’s computer and put your name onto the list with potential candidates for the job. Just a day later, some men in suits and sunglasses knocked on your door and you thought it was the FBI trying to arrest you, but instead they told you, that they worked for Tony Stark, and that the genius had been so impressed with what you did, that you got the job.

Three years of being employee of the year later, you still walked to the Avengers compound with a huge smile on your face. Work was fun, you had befriended Tony Stark, there was always something new to happen, but the best thing was working for the Avengers from time to time. You weren’t really an agent for SHIELD, but because SHIELD didn’t have any good programmers and hackers around, you stepped in sometimes.

Sitting on your chair in a safe house, opening doors from your desk to help the Avengers through a building occupied by the enemy and downloading secret files from miles away made you feel important and needed. You knew, that for this job, the Avengers had to trust you, and you trusted them to save your ass when you needed them to.

The only Avenger you had never met before was the god of thunder, Thor. It was sad, because he had been your favourite Avenger ever since you found out that the god was actually real and out there.

Seeing footage of him fighting battles, smiling his bright smile at the camera and literally anything else about him caused you to start crushing on him hard. He was perfect boyfriend material. But he was so untouchable. While you brought pizza to your workplace, Thor grabbed his hammer and killed some alien-zombies. While you fell asleep after watching Netflix for too long, Thor travelled from planet to planet in mere seconds.

It was frustrating, but you tried to treat Thor like any other of your celebrity crushes: It’ll go away.

But it didn’t.

So when Tony came into your office one morning, saying, “Thor will be visiting from Asgard tomorrow” to you, you couldn’t be happier.

You couldn’t wait to come to work the next day.

Taking the train home, you couldn’t help smiling at every single stranger. You couldn’t help being extra friendly to the owner of the small coffee shop where you always got a hot drink on your way home. But most importantly you couldn’t help thinking about Thor the whole time.

You made up about a million scenarios about how your meeting could go. Did Thor really look that handsome in real life? Probably. Would he talk to you? Probably not, though. And that was what made you a little sad. You would be so close to a literal god (who was also the person you had had a crush on for the longest time), but he wouldn’t even notice you. Tony would never introduce you to Thor saying, “he has been employee of the year every year since he has started working here”, and Thor would never get onto one knee, proposing to you right there and then. No wonder you were single when that was your number one fantasy.

Anxiety chased you through the rest of the day, making you a little numb with racing thoughts about the god of thunder and not being able to meet him, even when he was so near.

Coming to work the next day wasn’t too fun either. You fell into your chair and started your computer, dark circles under your eyes from drowning your feelings for the most handsome Avenger in ice cream and Netflix.

Your computer started and you were greeted by the default desktop every employee in the tower had. You opened your emails and started working.

Concentrating on what you had to do was hard. Your thoughts kept going back to Thor’s visit, so you forced yourself to concentrate.

By the time your break had started, you had only finished a forth of what you were supposed to do that day. Walking down the hallway that led to the huge cafeteria, you closed your eyes, telling yourself you had to focus as soon as you got back to work. Too fixated on clearing your mind, you didn’t look where you were going, and accidentally bumped into someone, but before you could fall back and to the ground (because damn, that person was as strong and tall as a wall), two large hands grabbed your shoulders to keep you on your feet.

Slowly looking up at the person, you first noticed the neat button-up shirt covering the man’s upper body and couldn’t help but stare at that one button that looked like it was having trouble to keep the shirt closed over the incredibly broad chest.

“I- I am so sorry,” you managed to say while your eyes trailed over the man’s arms and up to his face. It took you a few seconds to recognize the person in front of you, probably because he wasn’t dressed in his usual attire. Gulping, you took a few steps back as you stared at him in awe.

“You should look where you are going, we don’t want that you actually fall the next time.” You were sure that you were staring at him weirdly, but the man didn’t seem to mind – he probably got stares like that the whole time.

“Thor?” You choked out, suddenly losing the ability to speak. “Yes.” His lips curled into a smile as he looked you up and down.

“Holy shit.” You shook your head. “It’s an honour to meet you. I’m a big fan, really admire you.” You tried something like bowing in front of him, but the awkward look on Thor’s face made you stop.

“I’m a big fan,” you said instead. “I can tell.” He smiled brightly. His eyes wandered to your nametag. “Y/N,” he muttered to himself, before looking at you again. “Tony wanted to introduce us to each other.” He shrugged and chuckled. “But I guess you were too fast at meeting me.”

You looked at the god with big eyes. “He wanted to introduce us?” “Yeah. He said that you are an important part of the team.”

Your thoughts started racing again. Not because of anxiety, but because Thor was standing in front of you. And he knew you. Because Tony had told him about you. That was officially the best day of your life.

“Wow,” you laughed.

“Where were you heading? I’m not good with the directions in the tower,” Thor changed the subject quickly.

“I was about to get some food,” you retorted.

“What about we go get food and talk a bit over lunch?” It took you a moment to process what Thor just said, and you were at loss of words again, so you simply nodded. Thor gave you his biggest smile that let his eyes shine so brightly your heart melted. He started walking into what he suspected to be the right direction and you followed him.

After you got your food, you sat down with Thor on the other side of the table. A few agents and people from different parts of the tower stared at you, but you did your best at ignoring them.

“If I understood Tony right, you work with computers. He mentioned that you are one of his best,” Thor said casually, but you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You scratched the back of your head as you looked down at your meal. “I’m pretty good.” That earned you a grin from Thor.

“It’s a shame that we’ve never gotten to work with each other yet.” You only choked on your food and nodded frantically. “I’d love to see your workplace later,” Thor continued, ignoring your coughing. “Maybe you can teach me about some stuff, like emails, so I can send you those when I’m back in Asgard.” You struggled for air and when you could finally breath again, you smiled. “Yeah, I can totally do that.” “Or you could teach me how to use a cell phone, so we can talk some time,” he suggested and winked at you, almost sending you back to coughing with his flirtatiousness. “Of course, Thor.” That satisfied the god. “You know what I noticed?” You questioned. “I think that the admiration is mutual.”

Tag lists (open):

General tag list: @idjitsam

General male reader tag list: @spnfanboy777   @skidaddle-skid @lemoncholychronicles @hxmmebot @mcuvenom @rxvenclxw-hunter @gracereplies-notinuse @maximum-fander @pilgrim-to-rome @panicatthewhoz @steelescliff  @inhumanshadows

[sylvies-chen]

My farewell to the Avengers...  (CONTAINS SPOILERS)

I needed to write this because I felt so emotional after watching Endgame and I felt like I could express my thoughts and feelings better in writing, so here I go. Wish me luck, you can damn well bet I’m going to cry while writing this. (Sidenote: I’m very dramatic in this lol)

In 2011, I downloaded and watched the first Thor movie on my iPod 4 (just to paint thay picture for you), and I instantly fell in love with superheroes. I had mainly watched it because I was bored, but by the time Mjölnir flew out of the ground into Thor’s hands and he regained his powers, I found myself cheering. Maybe the younger version of me somehow knew that Marvel would end up impacting my life forever, or maybe I just had a really big celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth. Or both. Either way, I wanted more. I wanted to experience what I felt when I watched that movie again. So I asked my dad, and he set up Iron Man on my TV and played it. The next week, I requested Iron Man 2. He put it on an watched me watch it. I wanted the third one and was disappointed to find out that I would have to wait for another two years until the next Iron Man movie was released. In the meantime, I was introduced to all of the other movies as well as comic books by my father and my brother, and eventually became even bigger of a diehard fan than they were. I watched all of the movies that came out in theatres: The Avengers,  Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor: Dark Worlds Avengers Age of Ultron, Ant-Man, all versions of Spiderman, etc. 

On April 27th, 2018, I watched Avengers Infinity War. Did it break me? Yes. Did I walk out of the movie theatre staring into space not talking to anyone and being in denial while my parents looked at me very worriedly? Hell yes. But to me, it wasn’t so bad. It was painful, especially the part where Peter faded away (I cried obviously), but I knew they would fix it. They were making Avengers Endgame. It would be okay. Peter would come back and so would Gamora and Dr. Strange and T’Challa and Groot and Bucky and Loki, and everything would be okay. 

I go into Endgame today expecting to cry the same amount that I did during Infinity War. Which was a fair amount. Within the first ten minutes of the movie, I was already emotional with Tony and Steve’s tension and Tony having to grieve Peter’s death, but I generally was able to keep it together. I even laughed and smiled when Tony checked out Steve’s ass made that joke about Steve’s ass.

We’re well into the movie. The battle against Thanos isn’t going so well, but then something happens. Steve is able to pick up Mjölnir. Thor says “I knew it”. It’s EPIC and amazing. The very same thing that had happened to Thor in 2011 had happened to Captain America now. Especially since they teased it in AOU with the game of “Who can pick up Thor’s hammer”, I was even more stoked. But what happened next was something I never could have prepared for. The moment where everyone comes through the portals and unites. We see Wanda, Peter, T’Challa, Okoye, Valkyrie, Dr. Strange, Quill, Drax, Mantis, thousands and thousands of others ready to fight. Captain America is at the front. Steve, is at the front. As humanity is ready to fight for their lives, he says the words: “Avengers... assemble.” 

I lost it. I mean, right then and there in the theatre, I started bawling bittersweetly because holy shit. This is it. I had become so used to having another movie to look forward to, another show to watch or a book to read, So comfortable with the absurd notion that the Avengers arc would continue for years and years to come. It had gone on for years, but it only felt like seconds to me. And now the final fight had come. That was the moment I had realized it was the end, and I couldn’t help but cry and cry and cry. I was with my friends and we held eachother’s hands as we sobbed, and squealed, and smiled, and cried some more, all at once. Tony and Peter reunite. That sent me crying again. Wanda, Valkyrie, Captain Marvel, Okoye, and all the other badass women surrounding Peter and protecting the glove, beautiful, badass, empowering. Crying again. Peter and Pepper losing Tony and little Morgan Stark having no father to love x 3000. Sobbing. It was the end. It was moving, perfectly imperfect, joyful, heartbreaking, and it was beautiful. 

It was really bittersweet, because these characters meant so much to me. I grew up with them, they matured and developed along with me, and the more layers I saw in each superhero, the more beautiful I found them. I love finding the beauty in things, and there was never a shortage of things to see beauty in when it came to Marvel and the Avengers. Stan Lee’s geniality and creativity. Steve’s unwavering need to put others before himself. Carol Danvers ability to get back up every damn time after being put down. Peter’s young heart yearning so badly to help make a difference in the world. Thor’s strength to accept his losses and let his grief make him stronger. The entirety of Tony Stark’s character. Beauty. Not just because of their indestructable moments, the ones where they send the bad guys flying into the wall without breaking a sweat. They were beautiful because of their moments of vulnerability. Peter showing that he’s afraid. Natasha recognizing how much the family that she’s made with the Avengers means to her. Tony letting Steve know how hurt and angry he felt after the events of Civil War. They aren’t perfect, they’re vulnerable and human, and that was the most beautiful part about them. So naturally, when it all came to an end, I was inconsolable and filled with tears. I know now though that this is not the end. Because Marvel isn’t just a story, it isn’t just one person (although I’d like to think Tony Stark is the king of Marvel lmao). Marvel, the Avengers, whatever you want to call it, it is a concept. The same can apply to anything you really love. It lives in you forever. Marvel is me in my uncle’s basement browsing through the giant wooden chest filled with comics. It is whenever I go on Netflix and rewatch Thor: Ragnarok to cheer myself up after a shitty day. It’s hearing something on TV, or seeing something on the street that reminds me of the heroes that changed my life. It’s rewatching DVDs of the first Iron Man movie on a rainy day after soccer practice gets cancelled. Marvel was, and is, a way for me to escape reality sometimes and let myself believe there are grown ass people in costumes who will protect me from the evil forces out there. It is a safe place for those who are willing to give the characters a chance. 

If there were any way for any cast members lf the movie to read this, I hope they do. I hope they find joy and satisfaction in the many ways Marvel’s Avengers has made my world better. These characters, these stories, they were my childhood. They will forever hold the most special place in my heart. I am so sad and happy at the same time, but most of all, I am extremely thankful that I had the opportunity to grow up in this era. To grow up in a generation as lucky as this one. Other generations will never know the feeling of anticipation for the Avengers: Endgame to come out, or the excitement of finding out that Loki is getting his own show. Thank you Marvel, thank you Avengers, thank you villains, even, for over ten years of love, patience, pain, and superhero action sequences. I am a better person for it. So farewell to you all, and as your beloved creator said... 

Excelsior. 

[space-age-bachelor]

Instead of Flying Off, He’ll Stay

Rafael Barba/Dominick “Sonny” Carisi Jr.

Sonny's life was not a Hallmark movie. He just had to get Barba to fall in love with him before Christmas Eve.

Thanks to @me-ladie for beta reading 

For @richardgoranski for being an incredible friend and being there for me

[AO3]

Rafael Barba loved Christmas. It had always been a family holiday to him, not the commercialized monstrosity that it had become. He’d never really gotten the concept of Santa Claus, so he never sent a list or went to Macy’s. But every year on Christmas Eve, after his mother read him Twas the Night Before Christmas , he would stare out the window at the direction he believed to be North and make a wish.

It had been years since he had done that and it was a little less than a month away from Christmas and carols had been playing in all of the stores he passed on the walk home from his mother’s Thanksgiving dinner. He’d stopped believing in Santa when he was eleven and his knees cracked when he lowered himself to the floor, still he faced North and hoped for a Christmas miracle.

He couldn’t spend Christmas alone for another year. He didn’t want to go to bed eight thirty watching old claymation movies while his coworkers thought he was off on some extravagant get away. He wanted someone to whisper “Merry Christmas” to over mugs of hot chocolate and kiss under the mistletoe, he’d always wanted to do that.

Once he thought his symbolic wish out thoroughly, he stood and chuckled to himself. The whole exercise had been ridiculous, but part of him deep down still believed in magic. It allowed him to sleep a little easier and wake up a little lighter.

The day after Thanksgiving was always spent decorating for Christmas. Bella would pull out the boxes she had in storage (this year, in her attic since she and Tommy decided to bite the bullet and get a real house), and Sonny would always end up doing most of the actual decorating. It was his burden to bear, being the only one who could string lights with a swish of his wrist.

“Bella,” he glared at her as he pulled out the seventh new pack of lights from her shopping bag, “I can’t do this. Not alone without drawing any attention to myself.” He let them all fall into his lap, “Do you have to be seen from space? Afraid Dad won’t be able to find your new roof?”

She rolled her eyes and pulled up a pinterest board on her iPad, scrolling through pages upon pages of our door light design and “the perfect Christmas lawn.” They all looked like something out of that dumb live action Grinch movie.

“I wanna beat that bitch Cynthia. She thinks she’s so much better because her precious Annabell was born in wedlock,” She flipped her hair and added a snooty voice before breaking into a groan. “She doesn’t even realize her perfect Carl is cheating on her with Todd from the school board.”

“That’s the Christmas spirit.” He sighed, not actually caring. That bitch had insulted his niece and made his sister feel inadequate, they were going to crush her. “Alright but, I can’t do all of this my way without being seen. It’s not like I can kill your street lights and with this many lights someone is bound to see me. Even at 3 am.”

They had a small staring contest. Bella matching his gaze with everything she had.

He blinked first.

A blinding grin spread across her face. “So when are we gonna start Nicky?” She winked at the nickname, the one that made him sound like some younger version of their father. “I’ve got the decorations, you’ve got that Christmas magic. Let’s kick a soccer mom’s zumba tight ass.”

“I’ll do it, but only the second floor. Everything else outside is done by hand.” He dropped all of the lights back into the plastic bag. “And you have to listen to me bitch about Dad for as long as I want.”

She clapped excitedly. She was a gossip by nature and Sonny had just offered her exactly what she wanted. He didn’t mind as long as she wasn’t going to try and convince him to do her whole yard. “Great! You can finally tell me what the Big Man said last night. I haven't seen you that upset since Queens SVU.”

Sonny’s mood darkened, he hadn’t planned on bringing that up. He was just going to go on about how their father saw his work and even his law degree as a waist and a distraction. It should have been obvious that Bella would want to know why he ducked out of Thanksgiving before the dessert had even touched the table.

“While we do the interior. It’s Gabby’s first Christmas in the new house and I wanna make it special.” Bella opened the first bin and Sonny got to work.

Decorating was an art that Sonny considered himself particularly gifted at, it came with the territory of who he was. When stringing lights was as easy as tracing the square of Bella’s kitchen window, it was hard not to be an expert.

He could lose himself in the feeling of it. A flick of his wrist and a garland covered the arch between the dining room and living room. It sent his heart racing, as if there was electricity flowing through him and extending out to the decorations. They were just an extension of himself.

Bella kept warning him to take it easy not go so fast. She only knew how drained he used to get after half an hour of this, but after last night he could do the whole house without breaking a sweat. It made the rush he got feel cheapened somehow. He just hoped he’d be able to enjoy the place, gleaming like the city skyline, after he got everything off his chest.

“Looks great, Sonny.” She squeezed his arm and pressed a cup of freshly made hot chocolate into his hands. “Don’t worry about the rest right now. Come on and sit down.”

She gently guided him over to the couch and practically pushed him down onto it. “I don’t want you passing out before we get some proper storytelling going.”

“I don’t pass out-”

“Please,” She scoffed setting herself down next to him, “You always act like you just gave blood. ‘Oh,’” She moaned doing a terrible impression of him even though they had the same accent. “‘Just let me sit here and eat my cookie and drink my apple juice. I’m so weak.’”

It got a chuckle out of him, “Well, no more of that, I’m getting stronger-” He froze. Two days ago, it had just been a nice thing that he couldn’t explain. He winced at his own slip.

“Sonny, what’s wrong?” She grabbed his shoulder, suddenly concerned.

“It’s not your fault. It’s just…” He sighed, he really did want to talk about this. He was having a hard time dealing with it on his own and needed the support. It was just difficult to say. “Dad wants to retire after this year.”

Her eyes widened. It would’ve been comical under different circumstances. “Holy shit, you… he needs you to…” She took a deep swig of her hot chocolate, “Shit.”

He nodded and took his own sip, not having anything to really say to it.

“Alright, alright...alright, tell me exactly what he said.”

“He didn’t say much, just asked me to take over next Christmas.” He shrugged, “I tried to tell him I didn’t want to, but he gave me that whole ‘first son’ thing-- which is bullshit by the way, if Jenny McCarthy could do it--”

She raised a hand to stop it. “T, Gigi, and I all don’t want anything to do with it. So that wouldn’t matter. Dad would cave if we would.”

“I know.” Another sip of cocoa. “I wish you did because he tore my life apart. I have one friend, I’m not content with my job, I haven’t dated anyone in almost five years. I just stood there as he laid out why nobody would really miss me if I picked up and left.”

“I’d miss you.”

He smiled softly, “Thanks, Bells, but you could still visit. The only person who sorta counts is Amanda and Dad would rather I tell her than force him to work another year.”

She flopped backwards so she was staring up at the ceiling, “Mr. Tradition probably thinks you two are going to get together.”

Sonny was silent for a long time, running through all the ways to phrase his next sentence. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes when he finally decided on what to say. “That was actually my only way out of it. Dad says he’ll back off if I can have a stable relationship by Christmas. Then leaving wouldn’t just be my decision.”

“You can’t just get a girl pregnant.”

A laugh was startled out of him, “Nope, still gay and still single.”

Her “scheme smirk” was firmly in place when she sprung back up, “Well, you’re already in love with someone. So you just have until Christmas to get Mr. Barba to fall in love with you.”

“I’m not in love with Barba.” The redness of his cheeks didn’t help the lie. “Besides, we’re not that kind of close and I’m not convinced that he doesn’t hate me. You don’t go from that to love in a month.”

She swatted his arm. “He doesn’t hate you. It’s impossible to hate you. Plus, you can just use your Christmas powers to charm him.” She wiggled her fingers in his face, barely containing her laughter.

“You know, it doesn't work like that.” He insisted, retaliating as if they still were children and pinning her back on the couch. “You really think Barba’s my best bet?”

She shrugged as well as she could, “You’re gay and your only friend is a girl. I mean, unless you wanna download Grindr and try your luck.”

“Hey, Barba,” Sonny kept rubbing his hands on his pants or the bottom of his jacket. He was nervous sweating and on the off chance he had to actually touch the other man, he wanted them to be at least somewhat dry. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

The prosecutor stopped, but looked more confused than anything else, “Depends upon what you’re suggesting.”

“I have a new recipe I wanna test out.” He was lying. That was a flat out lie, but he wasn’t brave enough to just ask him out. “So dinner tomorrow night?”

“So, I your new Guinea Pig?” The corner of his mouth quirked up, “Alright, I could be ready by eight.”

Sonny didn’t react for a moment before a smile split his face. He hadn’t expected this to work. “Perfect! I’ll have time to make dessert as well.”

He nodded, “I’ll see you then, Carisi.” With that, he turned and left.

Sonny half stumbled back to his desk, causing Amanda to raise an eyebrow, “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.” He said, trying not to turn back and watch the door Barba just left through. Now he just had to figure out which recipe Barba would like the best.

“So you need me to watch Holly for just no reason?” Amanda loved watching Holly. Sure, she was huge and drooled all over the furniture, but she was sweet and was glad to just be a pillow or space heater, “Are you sure there isn’t a reason?”

He sighed, if his plan worked out he’d have to tell her at some point. “I have a date and I don’t want Holly getting over excited and scare him away.” She was the sweetest, but she got over enthusiastic when new people came over. “A lot went into this.”

She arched an eyebrow, “Really? Anyone I know? Because the only person I’ve seen you fawn over is-” Her mouth fell open in realization. “No….You finally asked Barba out? And you’re skipping straight to bringing him home?”

“Oh my god,” He groaned, the noise drawing his dog over to rest her head on his lap. “I’m making him dinner, and I’m not even sure he realized that I was asking him on a date. He might be straight.”

“He’s just as smitten as you are and just as bad at hiding it.” She said moving closer so they both had access to Holly.

They sat there for some time, ABC Family playing through a rotation of Christmas movies that seemed to be compose of Elf and Christmas Vacation, exclusively. Right before Clark Griswold officially lost it, Amanda passed out using Holly’s stomach as a pillow. Sonny had done it enough times to admit that it was one of the reasons he had gotten a Newfoundland. Of course, once Amanda was finally asleep at a reasonable time, Jesse started crying.

She raised her head slightly before dropping it back down, “She wants her Uncle Sonny.”

He laughed and went to go take care of his goddaughter. “Hey, Baby.” He cooed bending down to lift her.

His heart always melted when he held her, her little hands clutching at the collar of his shirt. He wanted to have that with his own kids at some point with a child of his own. Barba probably wouldn’t want kids, he didn’t seem like the type. But they’d cross that bridge if they ever actually made it there.

Jesse’s crying wouldn’t subside, so he pulled out a little trick he would do for Gabby when ever she got fussy.

He felt the familiar spark in his fingertips and the energy that flooded his chest making him feel whole and energized. He pulled a stuffed puppy out from behind his back.

They toy whined at Jesse and licked the tear tracks that stained her cheeks until the wailing turned into giggling and squeals of glee. The magic to create the little puppy might have given him a rush of joy, but he sound of Jesse’s laughter overwhelmed him with happiness.

“Sonny, how do you always-”

He dropped the toy when he heard Amanda’s voice. It immediately tried to get back up, scratching at his leg with blue cotton paws and yipping at him to demand attention. Without even thinking he snapped his fingers and it fell limp as if it were always just a normal plushie.

Her eyes were bugging out of her skull as she stared down at the offending object. Most people, well adults, didn’t react well when confronted with magic. They lacked the imagination to really comprehend what was happening and lashed out at him because of it. He just hoped Amanda would at least hear him out-

“I fucking knew it!” She cheered and his mind went blank. “You’re too good with kids, and you’re ridiculously lucky, and you know things about people that you couldn’t possibly know, and your cookies.”

He nodded, slowly coming back to himself, “Uh, yeah, my cookies are magic.” It came with the territory of being who he was. He put Jesse back into her crib, leaning down to pick up her new toy. Once she was tucked in, he snapped again and the puppy yawned, padding over and curling up against her side. It would help sooth her if she woke up again.

He turned back to Amanda, “Come on, I’ll explain everything.”

Amanda took it well, after she laughed at the fact that Sonny’s future hinged on whether or not he could get Barba to fall in love with him by Christmas, and admit it. He could worry about the actual admission later, his first goal was to get Barba to agree to a second date.

He wished his particular brand of magic applied to any kind of food. Sure his desserts were always perfect no matter what they were, so he had that going for him, but for an average everyday dinner, he had to rely on his own talent and experience. His own skill wasn’t something to be scoffed at though, so he thought it would be okay.

Barba had never had his cooking anyway, so if he was having an off day he could impress him even more next time. The dessert was all he really needed to get to phase two of Bella’s plan.

“So what are we having?” Barba had come straight from work but he immediately took off his jacket. It made him look softer, and comfortable in Sonny’s home. “I haven’t eaten in hours so it had better be good.”

He laughed leading him through to the kitchen, “It’s nothing special, just a new kind of pizza dough I’d been meaning to try and sugar cookies with a new flavor of icing.” It was nice finishing up dinner and being able to look over to the island to see Barba sitting there.

“I didn’t realize dessert was going to be cookies. I would’ve made this my cheat day.”

Sonny rolled his eyes, “Eating healthy keeps you fit, eating well keeps you sane.” He pulled out the wine, “Have some cookies and don’t worry about a diet, which you don’t need by the way.”

“Dinner and compliments? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was a date.”

His heart dropped to his feet. He knew this was a possibility, but that didn’t stop his disappointment from showing, or Barba’s surprise at seeing it. This had always been the hard part when he imagined this scenario in his head, having to explain what had been lost in translation.

“Oh, I thought this was just a friendly dinner.” Barba was flushed and started messing with his tie. He only did that when he was nervous. “I know you do things like this with Liv and Amanda. So I assumed…”

“No, it’s fine.” He forced a smile and continued setting the table. The cheerful Christmas plates didn’t do much for his mood though. “We’re friends, right? This could just be a fun friend dinner. That is,” he took a deep breath and a leap of faith, “if you want it to be.”

A slow smile spread across the prosecutors face as he reached for his glass, “No, I think this would be the perfect first date. I mean, as long as those cookies are as good as Liv says they are.”

“Oh, trust me, they’re better.”

“Sonny, this is great!” Bella cheered, the shrill voice loud enough that Holly was reacting to it from across the room. “I need you to tell me everything about that date. You made him cookies, right? Exploit your gifts.”

“He liked the cookies.” he rolled his eyes resisting the urge to laugh. “We’re actually going out again tonight, taking Holly for a W-A-L-K in that park around the corner. Seemed like a romantic thing to do.” Of course, that left him sifting through winter coats and scarfs trying to figure out what pair would look the best while keeping him warm.

She sighed dreamily, “That’s straight out of a movie. It’s gonna snow right?”

“Check the weather app.”

He knew that she was glaring at her wall. She always hated when he said things like that. “You know what I mean. A light flurry while walking through the park, it’s a Hallmark movie.”

“This whole thing is a Hallmark movie.” He ran a hand down his face and finally decided on a not too heavy black pea coat, shorter than the one that he wore for work most days, with a red wool scarf that Gina had knit him a few years ago. “That means it has a happy ending, right?”

“Of course! I was talking with Amanda earlier,” He didn’t exactly regret introducing the two of them, but it was worrying that his sister and his best friend gossiped about him. “She said you two are adorable together at work, and I know you fall fast. If he’s like you, this will be fine.”

He waited until only a minute before Barba-no, Rafael- to get there before grabbing Holly’s leash and the collar. “A week and a half is fast. Especially since this is only our second actual date. We’re always so busy that working lunches are all we’re able to do.”

“Alright, then make it count. I’m not losing you because of this.”

“It’ll be fine, Bells. Besides, it would take a lot more than moving to get rid of me.” He laughed to try and calm her down. It wasn’t time to give up hope. “No I’ve got to go, Rafael’s here.”

After a quick goodbye, he grabbed Holly and opened the door. “Hey.”

Rafael smiled at him for a moment, before his attention shifted to the beast at Sonny’s side. “Wow, when you said you had a big dog, I was expecting a golden retriever or border collie.” He still bent down allowing Holly to sniff and lick his hand before he buried it in her long fur.

“No, they’re more medium. Besides, Holly’s sweeter than any of them.” Sonny was beaming as well, glad that his girl wasn’t going to be a problem. “Just wait until you see her in the snow. It’s her favorite thing.”

“I bet.” He stood back up and held out his hand to Sonny, “Ready to go.”

They made it to the park in only a few minutes and Sonny could hear Rafael’s breath catch when he saw the start of the path. It was an idyllic scene with old fashioned street lamps and trees wrapped in Christmas lights. The only thing missing was the snow.

“This is beautiful.” He whispered, his hand tightening around Sonny’s. “How long is the path?”

“As long as you want it to be,” He said with a slight smirk, “but I do have a destination in mind.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. In fact the conversation started up again with discussing how many strands of lights there had to be in the park and whether or not that was a good use of power and taxpayer money. Sonny was convinced that he was only playing devil’s advocate when he claimed that Christmas lights were not worth the money they cost.

The conversation never stalled or slowed, showing Sonny just how easy it was to be around Rafael. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before. So he led them in circles for almost half an hour before finally ending up at his favorite spot in the park.

The lights thinned as they drew nearer, but Rafael was too focused on him to notice. It was flattering, even though the actual spot was more than enough to pull his attention away from him.

One tree stood in the middle of a plaza with a single bench at the base of it. It was a nice space all year round, but during december it was gorgeous. It was done up like a proper christmas tree with tinsel and ornaments of gold spheres and tiny wooden toys. The arms of the bench were even wrapped in silver and gold garlands.

“Do you wanna sit?” He turned to Rafael, admiring how the light danced off of his eyes as he stared at the spectacle.

“Yeah, will Holly be fine with taking a break?” It took him a second to drag his eyes away which was both adorable and incredibly validating.

He looked down at his feet where Holly had already laid down, “I think she’ll be okay.”

The bench was cold, but it was offset by the heat radiating from where Rafael’s leg pressed against his. He wanted to wrap an arm around his shoulders, but he’d wait until he shivered or gave some other indication that he was cold.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” He chuckled, gesturing to the candy cane pin that Sonny had honestly forgotten about. It was probably still there from last year.

“My whole family really gets into it and have for my whole life. It’s just a part of the year.” He shrugged, “Just a heads up, If you don’t like Christmas, my family isn’t gonna like you.”

Their shoulders bumped gently, “Then we’re fine. I’ll admit that I’m not as festive as you are. Maybe I could get one of those Christmas Tree ties.” He chuckled at his own joke, barely hiding the lift in the corners of his mouth. It was incredibly endearing.

“That would be adorable.” Sonny admitted, finally giving in and pulling Rafael closer.

He looked increible under the lights of the tree. Multicolored flecks dotted his cheeks and made the green of his eyes practically glow. Looking into those eyes, happiness filled his heart and he knew exactly how to let it out.

It happened in the blink of an eye. All of the joy he felt well up in his chest and the moment he released it, the first snowflake fell, a light flurry that completed the whole scene and made an already incredible night perfect.

Rafael looked up at the sky, pure wonderment and awe gracing his features. He was beautiful and incredible and, God, Sonny loved him.

His eyes widened as he came to the realization. Sure, he wanted to fall in love with him, but to actually feel the emotion flooding through his whole body, to know for certain from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, it changed the way he saw everything. It sent a thought directly to the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t say “I love you” first. He couldn’t pressure Rafael into saying it back or leave it hanging over him if he didn’t feel the same way.

“What are you thinking?”

Sonny smiled brighter than he had in years, “You’re beautiful.” He whispered and kissed him, something he had wanted to do since they met.

The next day, Sonny dragged Amanda into an empty interrogation room the first chance that he got. He was freaking out. He’d already called Bella who suggested he invite Rafael to spend Christmas Eve at her place. That way, their father could see that Sonny loved the ADA, even if they hadn’t said it yet. However Sonny didn’t know what would happen if he brought Rafael into that mess of a party.

“But you said the date went well. Also, you made it snow?” she whistled. “That’s straight out of one of those movies you like so much.”

“I’m a walking cliche, sue me.” He rolled his eyes before getting back to business, “But that’s the sort of thing I’m talking about. Our family dinners are times when I don’t have to hide anything about myself and it’s nice. I can cook the way I want and when I make a strange comment or know something no one told me, no one questions it. I just don’t want to do something like I did with the toy and Rafael to freak out.

“It would just be so difficult to share things like that with him….It’s freaky and abnormal.” He collapsed into one of the chairs, “Sometimes I wonder if any of this is even worth it. It’s not gonna end well.”

She recoiled in shock but quickly recovered and laid a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. “Hey, you told me that you love him, right? You’re just too afraid to say it.”

“I wouldn’t put it that-”

“Yes or no, Dominick.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I love him.” That he was sure of, it was why he couldn’t lose him.

She held out her hands like that was enough of an answer. She then sighed as if he was an idiot. “If you don’t bring him and trust him with this, then you’re putting a wall between you guys and not even giving him the chance to love the real you. You’re self-sabotaging without even meaning to.”

He knew she was right, even though he didn’t want to admit it. “I’ll invite him,” was all he could say, but she knew that she’d won.

He caught up with Rafael after court later that day. It was a solid win, which went a long way to easing Sonny’s nerves over the whole thing. At least he was in a good mood. “Hey, Rafael, I was wondering if you wanted to spend Christmas Eve with my family and I. It’s my sisters and my parents, so nothing too big.” He smiled brightly, “But I’d love to have you there.”

The bright spirit collapsed, darkening his expression into almost a glare, but he why would he have been glaring. “I didn’t think you’d want me there.” His jaw was clenched tightly, “I figured it wasn’t worth it to continue this.”

Sonny fought a losing battle to not let his hurt show. He recognized those words. They were his own and Rafael was throwing them back in his face. “So, you heard?” There really was nothing left to say, if he really felt that way.

“Of course I heard, you left the door open.” He pulled his eyes away from him and stared at the ground, “And you’re right. It’s abnormal….We should just call it off now since it’s obviously not going to go anywhere.”

Sonny nodded even though his heart was breaking. There wasn’t much of a fight when what’s wrong is who you are. “For what it’s worth, you’re incredible.”

Rafael just turned and walked away, leaving Sonny standing alone in the hallway and effectively sealing his fate.

Amanda was a mom to a child who probably wouldn’t remember what she was doing most of the time. Jesse was only two, and that meant, she was going to take that shift on Christmas Eve and then go home to eggnog with her sister. It was almost a vindictive pleasure that she got from breaking the mommy-rules like that.

But all of that joy came crashing down when she crashed into Barba. Sonny been particularly closed liped to her for the past few days, but she hadn’t anticipated this being the reason behind the silence. “You should be at Bella’s,” was all she could say because if he wasn’t at Bella’s then Sonny wouldn’t be staying in New York.

“No, Sonny made his views on our relationship quite clear and we decided to end it.”

Her jaw dropped, “Really, what did he say?” She didn’t think a declaration of love would end with breaking up, and there hadn’t been enough time for him to regress back into self-doubt.

“Nothing you hadn’t already heard.”

Oh, shit. She hadn’t closed the door all the way.

“Barba,” she leveled a glare with him, “I don’t know how much you heard from us the other day, but what Sonny told me was that he was afraid you’d think he was too strange for you to stay with him and that he should just break it off before you could decide to leave him.” Her words hit him hard, it was written all over his face.

“If you love him or even care about him, you have to go to Bella’s now and fix this.” Or he’d never get the chance to.

He gave her a sharp nod and started towards the door. He only made it a few steps before breaking into a run.

“I sometimes forget what he’s really like.” Gina broke the silence that had fallen over the room and drawing everyone’s eyes away from the fireplace, “I have to say, he really has mastered the cheerful backhand. The movies never get that right.”

Teresa laughed, “I think Tim Allen did it the best, but his sarcasm was too blatant.”

“Tim Allen also didn’t destroy my life.” Sonny mumbled, standing up and leaving the room. Gabby was still having fun. She loved seeing her grandfather and Sonny wasn’t going to let his mood bring hers down.

He stood in the kitchen and poured himself a spiked eggnog. It didn’t take long for Bella to find him. “So, it didn’t work with Rafael? I’m sorry, Sonny. He made you happy.” She said that like it was the most important part of their relationship, not that if Rafael had been there he’d have been able to keep his job and life. She was right.

“He overheard the truth and didn’t take it well.” He said with a shrugged, “That was sort of a deal breaker.”

“Well, his loss.” She reached from behind her back and pulled out a Santa hat. With a sad smile she stood on her toes and placed it on his head. “You’re a fucking catch and you made it snow for him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

He wrapped her into a brotherly bear hug. “Can you tell him that? I just...I was getting ready to actually tell him. I didn’t want him out of the loop around you guys.”

She squeezed him tightly before letting go. “He doesn’t deserve to know everything. I know you loved him, but if he was worth your time, he would be here.”

Almost like clockwork, there was a loud banging on the front door.

“You don’t think.”

Sonny shook his head and wet to the front door, “I swear to god, my life is not a Hallmark movie.”

Of course, he was still surprised to see and out of breath Rafael standing on the other side. He held up a hand when Sonny opened his mouth and launched into a probably planned speech. “The other day was all a misunderstanding. I didn’t hear the important part of what you said, and even if I had, I should have given you a chance to explain.

“I don’t care what your secret is, I promise you I can take it. I just thought that you thought we were too difficult and strange, but you are,” He took a deep breath, “You are incredible and so wonderful and you don’t have to let me inside, but I just couldn’t go another minute without telling you that I love you.”

“I can stay.” He said. Sonny’s mind went blank the moment he hear those words. Rafael was in front of him saying that he loved him and Sonny loved him back. Without even thinking about it, he pulled him in for a kiss, pausing briefly after a moment to stare at the gorgeous man in front of him

“Wait a second,” Rafael pushed him back a bit, just enough that Sonny couldn’t lean in for another kiss. “You were going to leave?”

He took a deep breath and Rafael’s hands, “My father’s Santa Claus and if I hadn’t found someone that I loved to tie me here, I was going to have to take over for him.”

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, “You love me?”

“Yeah, I love you.”

“Your father is Santa Claus?”

“Yes, he is.”

He nodded “That conversation with Rollins makes a lot more sense now.” His gaze was soft when he came back from the shock, “It still doesn’t matter. Just that does explain how everything was always perfect.”

Sonny raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t told him about the magic yet, “How?”

“I asked your dad for someone to spend Christmas with me.” He pulled Sonny against his chest, “I guess he got my wish.”

“Well then, Merry Christmas, Rafael.”

“Merry Christmas, Sonny.”

[lilietsblog]

Strike Witches episode 1: first impression

so im gonna try strike witches: the unknown anime i chose to not familiarize myself with the premise beyond 'something like fighter pilots i think?' that i picked up by osmosis

oh hey look a discarded doll. def war is hell vibes here

cant say im a fan of the visuals from the first several seconds, the color scheme and everything seems kinda bland? the only reason im making this observation is bc i had to pause to let it load tho

oh look Very Noticable CGI

(i have a headache and am vaguely nauseous and basically am Very Cranky as a result)

man, there aren't even characters yet. it's been almost two minuets and there still aren't people for me to relate too that's a crime by which i dont mean that literally but just 'this might not be the thing i want to watch right now'

oh hey monsters okay this is better than just straight up war is hell between humans omfg in 1939 subtle 'we wanna play with ww2 era toys but without bringing up the fact japan was on the side of nazi germany' i assume sure im onboard if thats the premise

magitech??? magitech!!!

that's. their legs. in those things. are they evoking Baba Yaga and her travels in a stupa bc thats okay panty shots i think imma quit at the end of this episode

oh i. just realized this is the movie that actually makes it a bit better and gives me more hope lets try the actual first episode first

ok the first shot is of the sky and not a discarded doll that's already better

holy shit whatever this video player is it allows to load external captions from pc or url. technology progresses at an incredible pace

i love that the fighter planes are clearly shown attacking the vortex first 9u9

opening has so many girls wearing shoes but no pants. im just. this entire device's entire point is clearly to fanservice that does not mean this is bad character-wise yet ofc. i watched and liked fucking rosario+vampire. this show has a chance yet. lets see what its got

the op song is nice its also very straightforward about aesthetic of this show being 'girls without pants in absolutely non-sexual situaitons' and i can respect that

and oh look it actually does start with characters interacting right after exposition that's what im talking about

okay so now might be a good time to mention that the first context i heard of strike witches was uh. misogynist porn. like the kind that doesnt go for 'look at these relatable characters being kinky' but for 'consider: what if powerful girls got hurt instead'. so thats the context in my brain and i want to fucking overwrite it

military uniforms+panties are definitely an aesthetic and im incredibly amused by it okay every single girl here doesnt wear pants sure that actually looks like a swimsuit rather than panties and thats nice

also they are characterizing the protagonist! like i know thats not much to ask for but im going into this straight off blogging about madoka and this is just such a relief! she is kind and brave and plucky and talks gently to a scared kitten and I love her also she Does Not Think Things Through shes like the typical shonen protagonist but a girl. im in

Yoshika her name is Yoshika

and her motivation is her dad but eh sure whatever I kind of like the touch of 'it was classified military information' not sure why

theres nothing about Yoshika that qualifies her other than her personality and magic powers huh

yep thats a swimsuit aww shes a healer!

I love that the military observers rush to help as soon as they see something is off theres work and then theres helping emergencies

oh!!!! her mom and grandma are around!!! and teaching her!!! im happy!!!

Yoshika why is all that a 'but' to 'you should learn to control your power' i dont think there was any subtext of 'you shouldnt even try' there? or was it? maybe i should just trust her for now

awww Yoshika actually doesn't want to go to war <3 but this woman thinks she will because she wants to help people and she'll help people the most there I I like this ;~; I'm so happy I like this I love Yoshika's 'fuck war' instinct I love her drive to help everyone and in fact the trope of magical healer almost killing themselves to help a patient (despite it being professionally inadvisable) is actually the thing i made my very first rp character sooo :> you know. stuff something is fishy about that letter. its no coincidence it was sent just now... I love Sakamoto and her A+ social skills HA HA HA HA HA also huh... she's not in on whatever's up with that letter

Yoshika so uh alright she'll take her without enlisting her huh interesting but uh what about school I guess military and witches can override all that and it kind of makes sense to me thematically

'Britannia' gee how familiar that name sounds and i dont mean geographically

so hm could Yoshika be a military doctor without actually enlisting? how do the formalities work there i like that Sakamoto doesnt question her dislike of all things military like its unexpected but mostly bc Sakamoto's got a one track mind that has a hard time expecting anything other than what she wants to happen and beyond that its like 'sure ok a conscientous objector got it' even though its weird how there would be conscientous objectors to fighting MONSTERS its not like theres an alternative to not fight I mean also clearly Yoshika is a kid and theres room left for that in other characters' treatment of her opinions and I love that they dont get Offended that she doesn't understand and Have Proper Respect well Sakamoto doesn't at least not sure about how other people will react

man that raccoon on the road sure was convenient though. like i first thought it was Sakamoto's deliberate tactic to gauge Yoshiko's powers. she was opening her eye to i guess do just that visually and then the raccoon appeared and it just felt very natural that one follows from the other? is this foreshadowing or are the writers of this anime just unfamiliar with the concept of 'subtle' i dont mind if its the latter tbh

(im writing a ton of reflection bc the episode broke after i tried to rewind a little and i decided to download it after all, and its doing that)

so far, this show seeems nicely straightforward and fast paced. like, really straightforward. yoshiko's introduction? saving a kitten. making a ww2 era anime without difficult shit? monsters attacked in 1939. motivations and revelations are handled with all the subtlety of a hammer to the face, from the raccoon to the letter. even fanservice has the same charming quality that makes me actually be okay with the entire point of their outfits being gratuitous panty shots. making sense and having pretense is for the weak. this anime knows what it wants to be and is going straight for that. i respect that approach

also its p clear that what it wants is to be character driven and its been Delivering on that since its only half episode one and i already Love two characters personally and also some supporting cast (Yoshiko's entire family)

and like you know that in some other show GASP MIGHT MY DAD BE STILL ALIVE would be a reveal saved for like. the halfway point. but here its literally the starting point spurring everything into action bc all other motivation was just too slow to get the character where she was supposed to go. good job yo

there's this trope where the main character doesn't want to go into the main conflict (Refusal of the Call)... and very often it's handled by either 1) letting them wallow until everything goes to shit showing how wrong they were or 2) immediately conveniently wrecking everything so they have no choice now I uh. am really glad this show went a different way if just joining the conflict isnt a good enough motivation GET A BETTER ONE and IT DOESNT HAVE TO BE ANGST (and it doesn't have to be romance, either!!! why are those two the only things writers seem to be able to think of jfc)

...okay I was more like two thirds through the episode rather than half but my points stand

okay so I think what just happened was Yoshiko realized the parallel between herself and her dad leaving and got scared and her response was to comfort other people and I love that <3

I love that Sakamoto doesn't have a doubt in her mind that Yoshiko isn't going to be useless and will definitely help and also comes to her to discuss this explicitly <3

man I love Sakamoto and her absolute lack of social graces and sense of when enough is enough

and the fact that Yoshiko is working chores now and seems to enjoy it too <3

and it's when it's established that she's part of the team that Sakamoto starts showing off <3 she clearly has a dedicated well thought out campaign of convincing Yoshiko going on and its borne out not of manipulation but of clear conviction that she is right and she just has to show the girl what she doesnt know yet <3

ahaha of course showing off worked <3

so I paused and imma make a bet with myself on whether Sakamoto is going to tell her 'if you liked that you can join' right now or leave that unsaid subtly my bet is that she is, bc subtlety is an entirely foreign concept to this wonderful human being, and if i lose im going to make my bed right now not even waiting for the end of the episode let's see

oh she starts with education huh, this is not widely known? i had no idea anyway lets see if she says the thing

I love that it's her dad and it's this kind thing of 'this is what he said he was going to do, and he did' <3

huh so that was slightly more subtlety than I expected, she offered her to try them rather than trying to recruit her directly so I lost the bet gotta go make the bed now

BAM DONE YAY GOOD SELF CARE

hey more main characters!!!! I love all of you already!!! you have personality and discuss things that make sense!!! including their outfits!!! I love them!!!! the parasol girl is my favorite but also the tiny girl and the red-haired girl they are all my favorites!!!

omfg a month of travel and half a day early Yoshiko gets impatient I love her

YOU ARE A NONCOMBATANT she said with the steely confidence of a commanding officer <3

I love so much that Sakamoto respects Yoshiko's boundaries re: fighting???

OMG THE ENDING SONG I LOVE IT

I love the upbeat and airy tone this show manages to have despite the premise??? like I had trepidations at the start bc I dislike doom&gloom-heaviness of 'war is hell' narratives and I'm not a WW2 affictionado. but instead of shiny boom boom toys and angst it's all character adorableness and so much sky??? even the lack of pants ends up feeling like freedom this is the anime we all deserve

[survivorinternational]

Episode 2 - "I couldn't believe I heard God wrong the third time" - Sluggy

Jacob: I have no idea for the video Me: I have an idea Jacob: its shit oh okay... give us a better idea before you shut mine down would you? 

So for the past 2 days ever since we won the reward challenge and got the chance to get a clue to the hidden immunity idol, the info had been passed around among everyone in the tribe that it was on the beach. I was waiting for the next opportunity to search for the idol because I know everyone's gonna go for it, and today I was busy beforehand and couldn't search for it until 4 hours after the challenge. But the first day I came here God told me specifically it was at the beach and in the headlands, it just wasn't on the cliff. So i go there and search and search and i cant find it, and im about to give up... 

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...and something falls on my lap, I open it up and here it is. The hidden immunity idol. I couldn't believe I heard God wrong the third time. HAHA! I'm so grateful for this. After all the Asians having idols in the psst seasons of survivor man. 

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So this sucks but I have to keep this idol as hidden as possible even from my closest allies. It's gonna be a big target on my back and if its possible i dont want to use it all the way until the final time I can use it. So even though Michael and Jacob asked about it, I couldn't tell him and err I don't want to lie anymore so it's definitely tough :( Whatever it is I have to keep humble and continue to stay under the radar. 

This challenge will take a lot of confidence which I completely lack but I will do my best and everything what I am asked to. I am kinda pressuring Vilma into being the director/editor of this since I know she is into stuff like this but I might have put too much pressure. Will try to work something out better in that regard. 

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Ginger's constant bullying of the ghost of Emils will get him into deep shit.

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This challenge has been a real coller coaster for me. I hate filming myself in videos but seeing the confidence Vilma (and others) have is really inspiring. We are doing "Toy" by Netta which is a pretty fun song to lipsync to. I am not the best but I am having fun with it and getting some exercise in the meanwhile. I will still undoubtebly hate any of my bits but at least I have the courage to participate and do my best. 

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About hour of recording myself. I shall not edit it from a cringy mess into a slightly less cringy mess. Wish me luck.

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I do not know if it is because I am slightly slick but I am editing my clips into a more coherent structure and my stomach genuinely hurts from cringe

A week in and I received my 1st message from Dean/Dylan :D how lucky. I also have slightly more newfound time coming up in the next few days so I can spend more time building trust with Tyler, Stephen and Dean/Dylan

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I just saw Tyler's part in the music video. How can 1 man be that hot. Like wtf did he do to get those kinds of genetics. I'm so fucking jealous rn. This confessional will contain no actual substance, just me shit posting about how fuxking AWESTRUCK I am at this man. Go to 2:15 of our music video to see... Damn! 

Right so this day was um interesting. I highly doubt i'll cover all the boring ass t but watevs. Ok SO, we had our first cheeky little game talk with Michael who much to my recent surprise is like 33 years old. pop off grandpa. Love him tho. So we had a fun little chat about who we liked, highkey like Stephan the most but didnt want to say that cause he had already said Stephan seems distant, so i pretended i was chill with other people just to be fun :). ANYWAY, he wants to create a majority with Jacob and Dean but honestly like no, those kids r the REAL crackheads. I want to work with Sluggy and Stephan so it was a tee bit awkie for me. But i smiled and waved anyway cause thats ALL im good at. If Michael was to try and create a majority with those 4 i'd highkey flip 🤭. Dean was just... how to put this... slop, and im not having slop in my house MY APOLOGIES. While planning for the challenge he was annoying and then throughout the challenge he was annoying. OK SO i am NOT mean and this challenge is clearly AWKWARD for everyone and everyone is being out there BUT deans video... like i used two seconds of it. Im sorry my love i dont know how to introduce that pillow possession story line into the video... . I think half way through he needed a nap? and started having night terrors, geez i hope he's ok. RIGHT anyway. I finished the video, i hope my editing and also telling everyone that they're part was really helpful and easily the best will grant me safety regardless! O also Jacob told me the idol clue BUT i dont know whether to believe it or not   :((( so he says its at the beach, im like well what was the actual clue? was it cryptic? then he said 'you inhaled smoke and it was hidden there' wtf u mean THAT was the clue. Absolutely not, get that SLOP out of MY face. RIGHT but i looked at the beach anyway to NO PREVAIL. Michael and Jacob both told me where they looked tho ;) Throwback to last confessional where i didnt think i was making an in roads with people, well i THINK i could be much better off now! Jacob says he only really talks to Stephan which is GOOD because i want Dean out and i thought he was close to dean. Also Jacob starting having game talk to me which was a HOOT because i thought he DIDNT like me. obviously my piercing eyes got the better of him. Im close with Stephan, Jacob, Michael and the singaporian one. OOPS thats all of the tribe but Dean. I've been whip whop wheaving my way through these relationships as best i can and forcing myself onto people without them realising. All i need is 1 or 2 STRONG connections and ill smile :) O also Jacob said i was hot and asked if i was single! LOVELY, amazing LOVE compliments, will use this child if need be but if he's trying to use me, sucks for him because im self conscious and DONT believe his compliments anyway. I THINK im setting myself up in a mildly good position, just gonna be more pal'y. I hope people LIKE me. 

We gave our best but our Basic White Boy music video is totally gonna lose, and I’m taking some responsibility for that too. I knew we should’ve chosen something gayer.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KBaGOCmiwLknXyQoaaeyqZ0isdVOFUV2/view here are my clips :eyes:

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I am not saying I am aiming for it, but I am totally aiming for most confessionals. So fun story here. Whole summer not a single time I was bitten by a mosquito. Then this survivor starts. What is survivor known for? Tropical islands with mosquitos and such. So I was riding my bicycle yesterday and sat on a bench for a bit to rest up. 5 minutes. I sat for 5 minutes on this damn bench. 7 mosquito bites all on my legs, 3-4 split. I was fuming. Apparently that opened the pandora's box of mosquitos because I have been bitten 4 more times since them. I am full of hate. In other news: http://prntscr.com/od5qry This is really nice to see. Vilma's the best <3

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I CAN'T STOP TYPING IN ALL CAPS OUR VIDEO IS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT

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my life is now a meme 

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oh wait it already was

CURRENTLY FREAKING OUT BECAUSE!!!!!!!!! IM EDITING THE MUSIC VIDEO BUT LIKE I HAVE SUCH LIMITED TIME!!!!! I ALSO HAVE TO BE FORTY FIVE MINUTES AWAY FROM MY CURRENT LOCATION IN AN HOUR AND THAT MAKES I ONLY HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES TO EDIT WHICH I DEFINITELY CANNOT FINISH IN TIME. ALSO HAVING HUGE FUCKING PROBLEMS BECAUSE MY OLD METHOD OF DOWNLOADING VIDEOS IS NOT WORKING!!!!!!!!!!! AND IM REALLY FREAKING OUT ABOUT IT LOL SO IM SCREEN RECORDING OUR VIDEOS BUT I ALSO DON'T HAVE THE ACTUAL AUDIO FOR AMERICAN BOY AND IM STRUGGLING TO DOWNLOAD IT I MIGHT NEED TO BUY IT ON MY PHONE LIKE FUCK FJLKDJASLKFAJDSKL THIS IS SO DIFFICULT AND IM TRYING TO KEEP IT TO MYSELF INSTEAD OF WORRYING MY TRIBE MATES BUT OMG WHY I HATE MY LIFE 

I feel so guilty that I didn’t help my tribe with this challenge, I really hope we win! If we don’t win honestly I will probably just tell them all they can vote me off- I hate to go without a fight but they all participated in the video and I feel like it would be the fair thing to do. Hopefully we don’t have to worry about that and my tribe wins!

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Me putting my life on the line for my TRIBE? Must be the drugs this is not really in my character but I feel really bad and want them all to thrive

I spent my entire day doing that music video and I'm gonna cry if we lose and go to tribal again ughhhhhhhhhh. I really tried my best and am super proud of my tribe mates too they did a great job. I really like the video.

Yes! Another win for Ala Mai! I'm loving this tribe and loving this game! I want to get to the merge with as many of my tribe mates as possible because we all have very similar timezones so I need that in my game. 

I am so happy we won the challenge ! I offered the Toy idea but then couldn't participate myself because of real life reasons ugh. My tribe tho did an AMAZING JOB and Im glad we chose Netta 

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Ok so just now I have realized these are not the during-game published confessionals. So I'm gonna confess: I was so fucking nervous not to be able to participate in the video challenge. I wanted to take part and it's risking eviction if we lose. On the other hand, I kinda knew I would be fine even if we lost. First, I offered the song for the tribe. Second, my alliance with Vilma and Veni is controlling the tribe, I have Clash from the side and we got majority. So I'd probs be fine anyway. Glad we won tho ! 

Uh I’ve been so busy for the past few days I can’t socialise and am very worried 

Day 4: Video editing challenge. This will be fun. Make a music video. Tribe chat is just going in circles with choosing a song. Song is finally chosen, Lonely Dance. Its a strange song, would have prefered something more campy or darker but oh well. I dont have time to do a video edit, i also want to take a back seat of this challenge. Searched for idol, No luck but i now have a good list of where to look narrowed down to 3 locations. Think im going to trust Tyler more. 

http://prntscr.com/odkz7k

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idk if i made a confessional about this but holy shit Lord is in this 

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I realise I spam so many messages to people at once. Shoutout to Vilma for always replying (although slowly) to every single one

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Quiet day today, barely spoke to people. Please no swap.

Well I'm sad to go to tribal this early, but it's probably needed. I didn't like my participation in this challenge but I was really short on time, it sucks but oh well, at least Ruthie told us to vote her and hopefully it isn't a hard vote 

Whew! Thank god we won immunity. I honestly think we tried so hard so it felt nice to be recognised for that (and by we I mean those of us who actually helped out with the challenge......). Vilma worries me a bit. I really like her and she gives off a great energy but I feel like she could use that to lead a big alliance further down the line. I definitely won't be targeting her anytime soon and hopefully I can get in that alliance at some point, but she's someone to keep an eye on.

Hello this round was boring we had shitty judges yet again woo we lost immunity woo now we have to look like bad people and vote ruthie out because shes sacrificing herself woo

WE WON!!!!!! NO TRIBAL!!!!! FUCK YESSSS And the judges were so nice to me I legit almost cried I love everyone ughhhh my heart Music video challenges are so amazing I don't care if what placement I get anymore we made that video and that's all I care about really I hope we're swapping soon! 

Okay so whew I had tribal for this game and I was nommed in a BB game so it's been a busy day today! I thought I might play my idol no matter what tonight, but Ruthie has been going through some stuff and volunteered to be voted out. Unfortunately it is uneventful for the viewers and for the hosts but I hope it is nice and easy and I can save my idol for later. Also, tribe swap anyone? Idk I haven't really clicked with anyone yet...Wow my social game sucks I'm sorry hosts, give me comps I can win, ty.

[unicornninjabitch]

Me to my therapist: No I’ve been doing really well :)

Me to strangers on the internet who dont give a fuck: Yo guess who’s having a depressive episode?! It’s me bitches

Here’s a secret, I’m a shitty person. I’ve hurt people that no amount of apologies could help. I wish I could’ve ended somethings on better terms than I did and I wish I could erase myself from some people’s lives cause all I did was fuck them over. I know this and I like to think if given the opportunity I could give them the apology they deserve cause, believe it or not, I’m a fucking disaster. I don’t want to sound like an Edgelord™, but I really am a fucking mess. I could blame the childhood I had or my own issues and you know those might be part of it, but I also know I’m basically always smashing my self-destruct button. I know I run from good things cause for so long my life motto was “Leave before you’re left” cause everyone left. My dad, uncles, aunts, cousins, best friends, my mom, exes, everyone left me behind at some point. For years I refused to call anyone my best friend because they all disappeared. Hell one of them left cause I didn’t have feelings for him and I blamed my fucking self. I told myself for months “If you just pretended you could’ve liked him” like that would be fair to either of us. For fucks sake even my middle school relationships I ended when they were good because I was terrified I’d get hurt. The only relationship I didn’t fucking run from was the one where I got cheated on like 3 times cause I was a dumbass freshman who thought some boy really changed for me. For gods sake I still get put on edge when people say nice things about me cause for so long nice things always came with a but or some kinda favor that needed to get done. I don't even ask my family to help me with a bunch of things cause that meant I owed them and owing people was a place I didn’t ever want to be (especially financially)

I think what it comes down to might be I’m scared to let myself be happy cause being happy was always followed by something terrible following it like if I stay alone and depressed then I can’t ever be let down. I know that’s a terrible way to approach life and it’s not healthy and I wish I could say I’m working on it, but I don’t know how to take that out of me. I think I’ve always been that way though, well at least a good portion of my life. I thought being abandoned was normal, but then I had friends and they would talk about their families. Their families were fucking great, they had their parents and the biggest complaint was their curfew or how they always had to sit down together to eat and a HUGE part of me kinda hated them. They had no idea what I would have gave for that, for a happy family, a normal family that were there for each other and consistent, for parents who didn’t start screaming the second they made eye contact. Here they were with the nerve to complain and I know I didn’t know everything about their home lives but it didn’t stop me from being angry or sad or deflecting every question about my family. And this shit all went down before my depression really started up can you believe that?! Like at least 2 years before and it just got fucking worse. I got sadder and angrier as the years went on cause my parents fought more (and i swore a divorce wouldve helped this but nope) and they still complained about curfews and sleepovers and dinners and what was baby Alex up to? Baby Alex was trying to keep a broken house from completely shattering and working and playing the messenger and being the middle man and parenting and being too grown up for a fucking 12 year old, so I stayed away from everyone and I delt with everything by taking it on myself. It wasn’t good, I’d hit myself and skip meals thinking if I got skinny I’d be pretty and refusing to sleep and cutting up my wrist and I probably did other dumb shit too.

Man and 8th grade was just the start of my eating issues, actually maybe it was 4th, but whatever. Okay so the 4th grade parts more one kid called me fat so I swore off breakfast and to this day I can’t eat till I’ve been awake for at least 2 hours. Then 8th grade there were days I’d only eat chips for lunch, but 9th grade was by far the worst. Okay 9th grade picture this you’ve been called fat since basically 4th grade and a lot of your 8th grade year your dad keeps saying “Oh you should eat better. You need to be more active” shit like that and you keep going on “family diets” plus the everyday self hate of being a teenager and society's beauty standards you cant meet. One day in the beginning of 9th grade I was really hating my body so I decided I’d go on a diet, so of course I downloaded an app and stared at pictures of skinny people with hip bones poking out and thigh gaps. However this app wasn’t worried about exercise or healthy food, but instead just calorie intake (see the problem already?) I thought if I keep the calorie intake below what the app says I lose more weight and faster. My daily eating schedule was a 90 calorie gatorade, half of a pb&j, half a carton of chocolate milk, and the smallest portion of dinner I could get (sometime with lunch I’d eat exctly 6 fries), but I mostly drank diet green tea and ice water. Each week I gave myself one “cheat day” where I ate whatever the fuck I wanted, but even then I tried to limit myself. I got called anorexic a lot at lunch because of how carefully I cut my food and pushed the remainder away from me. It was mostly kids joking and I mostly laughed it off or flipped them off cause I didn’t care they were joking. Until one day a friend offered me half his gatorade, so I took it drank some and put into the app how much I drank to which he said “Holy shit you really count your calories?” so I shrugged him off just like so what it’s not like I’m doing anything dangerous. Now mind you somedays my calorie intake was down to like 500 and the average for me at that time was like 1000 maybe (i dont remember its been a long time but it wasnt healthy). What stopped this you ask? Well I was talking to my mom one day and I was proud cause I lost like 15 pounds and a friends mom noticed (she asked if I was sick) and I noticed and I was just really proud, but my mom just said I was like obsessed, which looking back I was but at that time I was so pissed cause I didnt think I was. Then I stopped for a little, but it started up once I noticed I was gaining weight back. Then my mom had a miscarriage and got really depressed so she stayed with her boyfriend at the time who lived like 6 hours away. Food became like a huge thing, I ate a lot of junk food everyday cause I felt guilty. At that time me and my mom were butting heads a lot for whatever reasons and I was in the room with her when she learned the baby’s heartbeat stopped. I of course told her I was okay and didnt cry cause I wanted to be strong for her since she wa a mess, but I was like totally numb inside and totally blamed myself. (Now I logically know it wasnt my fault but I still feel like it was somehow if that makes sense?) Now my moms gone for the first time in my life, I’m with my dad who at this point I still can’t stand, my brothers are fighting a lot, I’m still distancing myself from friends, I’m dating a total douchebag, and it was just a lot for me, so I just constantly comfort ate cause I didn’t know how to talk about these issues to anyone.

Now back track to me saying I’m s hitty person, I was dating this guy and I loved him, I really dd, but I was scared. My last relationship was awful and bad and no one deserves that kind of relationship, but nonetheless I start dating this guy and it wasn’t healthy, I dont think. We were on and off for a while,I picked fights cause I was always told fightings normal in relationships, but we didn’t ever fight and I thought relationship fights were screaming and crying and slamming doors and shit like that cause that’s all I knew. Eventually we were together straight for about 6 months (I think all together it was about 9 months) and they were good for the most part, we may have moved too fast and planned forever too soon, but we were happy and didn’t care cause we loved each other. Then we broke up for good and I regretted it for a long time and we still talked convinced we could be friends after swearing we’d get married and other shit, but it didn’t work that way, so after about a year of us talking to each other scared to let go and move on and shit we finally said what we’re doing isnt good and we have to go separate ways. I was still miserable for awhile cause a part of me still loved him and maybe a part of me always will, but we unfollowed each other on everything and I think for myself I blocked him to make sure I didn’t do anything dumb.

After I like healed or whatever I dated this girl, she was fucking awesome, cute as hell, funny, just great and we were together not long but I had strong feelngs for her, but the Gender Crisis™ came and I didn’t know how to tell her what was going on so I told her I had some shit to figure out and we broke up and I immediately blocked her everywhere cause I didn’t want to hurt her like I did with that guy,and maybe it was dumb to do it that way, but I didn’t know how else to do it.

The moral of this is I’m awful, I do this shit at least once every summer, and idk how to talk about my issues in any other way than to word vomit to strangers on the internet.