#for gif-ing lately

[curly-daily]

ten minutes late but HERE it is. my magnum opus. the only thing i've created

[taylorhawkins]

[duahauuoplanh]

Hot af Guwon heading to Sarang

[autistme]

can anybody tell me why god won't speak to me? why jesus never called on me to part the fucking seas?

[michyeosseo]

2022 creator wrap

favorite works

bringing back a love thyself tag thing-y from two years ago to fill up an otherwise empty yearend queue

january - all i ever wanted was a sister as far as i could remember. therefore, the way my brain has been wired... it’s no surprise to combine the jazzy vocals of luisa (from encanto) with chungmuro’s finest showing of sisterhood in recent memory. 

february - hongxue, my beloved. anita yuen hitting a corporate prick in the head, in cheongsam, is ~magnificent~ let’s not mince words. to my delight, i discovered she’s also been taking on roles checking the kissing women requirement all the way back to the early ‘90s. good for her.

march -  an entry for kww featuring kang malgeum. have you ever been personally changed by the nation’s unni and her ghost smile or are you normal?

april - moran × oksun. i even assigned the invu album to their dynamic only to be immeasurably disappointed.

may/june - here’s the latest in the never-ending law of the lady shoutouts. i was provided, bombarded even, with so much jiejie crush material. (warning: wetv subtitles were just a grade above machine translation.) xu jie assuming the role of chen ran’s baby daddy – putting their “partnership” full circle – i dunno where to begin to thank cdramas for them.

july - it is Not Perfect nor was it archived here but ‘twas my humble offering for queen moon’s birthday [ofc it was going to be a sehwa fancam to the kpop milf anthem wooah hip].

august - do mob bosses gently ask to have dinners with their indentured servants? as per the miniature hell in my head, chairwoman kang insook certainly seems convinced that’s how it works with her secretary kim yoonjae. and if my takeaway from that terrible movie is a positive reception of the dismembered wrist marked with her tattoo and totes not leaving her for dead, so be it.

december - meet jin hwayoung, the youngest daughter of a conglomerate. fashionista, my meow meow, achieved having a purse-carrying malewife. (the last bit representing actual affection is very notable, considering everyone else in show-window marriages.) dad, ily, but we both know why i picked this drama up. long after the faux chaebol revenge fades from the limelight, the general public will continue to owe kim shinrok for refusing her talent to be boxed as merely garnish/‘only daughter amongst many sons’ and for her commitment to having maximum fun on set for us. give her a worthy slice-of-life next.

if you’ve read up to this point, i just want to express my sincere thanks for following me/my crazed hyperfixations ♡ 

sideblog stuff under the cut

special mention

this is the (half-)year i kinda leaned into vidding. with encouragement from dear friends, here are some archived because twtr video compression is absolute dogshit fruits of those late nights. i wanna try to do more next year, maybe revisit old ideas, while not abandoning my main bread and butter, gifs. here’s to hoping the quality of the two modes of output will be honed closer.

feeling each other’s ribs that are protruding

ok i lied, i’m not a ‘little bit’ in love with gwendoline christie; i want to sell my soul to her

[aurorawritestoescape]

AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

Tag list:@milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild

Tagging lovelies who showed interest in the wip post🌸 @604to647 @fruityreads @joelmillerisapunk @corazondebeskar @janaispunk @bubble-pop-eclectic

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[share-the-damn-bed]

This is so sweet!! 🥹🥹🥹 I too wish there were more Jancy gif makers (there could never be enough!!) If anyone is at all interested in learning how to make gifs/tips on gifs I created this tutorial on how to make gif sets for free (without photoshop or downloading programs) a few years back.

If anyone is looking to advance their gif making skills but are struggling with photoshop or just want to learn new techniques, please reach out as I have a bunch saved and would love to learn some new stuff myself.

I wish there were more jancy gif makers I would do it if I could 😔 anyways thank you @share-the-damn-bed you make the best jancy gifs ❤️

[darsynia]

Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | Ro Roll | Part II

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job. 

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby. 

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.  

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust. 

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

Part 2

[dakotalun]

You Belong With Me | Eddie Munson

pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie is hung up on Chrissy Cunningham, but there's someone who's available that would love to be his.

warnings: none

word count: 2.6k

a/n: Taylor really has me in a chokehold with this song!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie Munson is not known for his ways with the ladies. He leaves that to Harrington, but he can’t deny the fact that he’s got his eyes set on one girl in particular, and wishes it were him and not Harrington who could get the girls. Sadly that’s not the case plus she’s already dating someone, the captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver. Eddie knows he’ll probably never have a chance with her but that doesn’t stop him from sneaking into the games to watch her cheer.

And you are with him every step of the way, even if it does hurt you to see him this way. You’ve been in love with Eddie since you met him. He was the first person to talk to you at school, and he even lived a few trailers down from you so it made the friendship easy. You and he were basically glued at the hip.

So when he told you about his feeling for Chrissy Cunningham a few years ago you were hurt but put on a good face and tried to be supportive. There were a few times when Eddie would think he had a chance with her; only for her to not even bat an eye in his direction. It hurt him, though he wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone but you.

You’ve kept your feelings for him bottled up and hidden in the dark corner of your heart, knowing they’ll probably live there until you die. That’s what made tonight so fucking hard. He’s on your bed, lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. Chrissy had bumped into him today on her way to class, like the literal chest-to-chest, books, and papers falling everywhere type of bump.

Eddie claims it was just out of a movie. He was quick to help her pick them up and when he handed them back to her their hands touched for a split second. No more than .5 seconds to be exact. And of course, being his best friend he had to tell you about it immediately.

So now he’s here telling you all the details about it, again. Both of you are sitting on your bed, your legs draped over Eddie’s chest. You’ve been flipping through a random magazine your mom kept in the living room just nodding and “mhmm”ing ever since her name came out of his mouth. It’s not like you hated Chrissy, she was a nice girl. You just hated the fact that she took up more of Eddie’s mind than you did. She always has.

“The way her eyes sparkled under the lights it was, Jesus Christ, it was like magic,” You held back the urge to roll your eyes at his comment, “Then when she thanked me and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, dude I swear I almost fell out then and there. Hearing her talk directly to me, I almost got a boner.”

“Gross dude!” You shove him in the side with your foot, “I do not want to hear about your boners for Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Y’can’t deny love, babe,” The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, “And I do love her.”

“Even though you’ve barely spoken two words to her since you met, yeah right.”

Eddie sits up on his elbows to look at you, “It’s true sweetheart, I’m in love. I’ll get her soon, you just wait and see.” He lies back down bringing his hands behind his head, his muscles flexing in the process. You stare at him, the way he’s so relaxed with you, so at ease. It’s always been this way and you wouldn’t change it for the world, you just wish he was thinking about you at the moment.

“Alright whatever,” You close the magazine, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of your desk, “It’s late and I’m getting tired. I’mma take a shower then head to bed. You staying over?” You remove your legs from Eddie’s chest, he doesn’t even hear you, being too lost in thought.

“Hello? Earth to Eddie. You there?” You wave your hand in front of his face, snapping to get his attention.

“Huh?” He looks over at you, slightly confused on how you’re now on the other side of him.

“I said I’m gonna take a shower then head to bed, you gonna stay or no?”

“Oh uh nah, I gotta check in with Wayne. Make sure he hasn’t set the trailer on fire and all,” He gets up from the bed, pulling his jacket and shoes on before heading out your bedroom.

“Alright, well see you tomorrow then,” You walk him to the front door, leaning against the kitchen counter as he checks his phone, “7am?”

“Like always,” He winks at you before heading out. You stand there for a moment looking at the place he just was. Wondering how someone like him would ever pine for a girl like Chrissy.

You shake the thoughts from your head then go take a shower, hoping to wash away the thoughts of Eddie and both of your clearly one sided loves.

---

“Oh come on, no way dude,” Mike is yelling at Dustin about some weird sci-fi movie.

“I’m telling you Aliens is way better than Back To The Future! If you can’t see that then you have terrible taste in movies,” You laugh at the boys argument and look over at Eddie, who’s flipping through one of his D&D books. Probably planning for the next campaign.

You get up and walk over to him standing behind his seat. You lean over his shoulder to see what he’s writing, “Wha’cha doin’ over here?”

“Just trying to figure out what these idiots are gonna fight next. I need them to level up after this but nothing I find will give them enough XP,” He’s talking to himself mostly but you listen closely trying to help, even with your minimal knowledge of the game, “And I don’t wanna give them one hella over powered monster because I mean they’re good at the game and all, but they’d get absolutely pummeled trying to deal with a fucking high ass level monster.”

“Well what if you split them up,” You reach over him to point at his notebook, “Half the group can fight this one,” You point at one of the monsters written on Eddie’s notebook page, “Maybe make some traps and chests they can find to upgrade gear and get potions and shit, then the others could fight this one, but make it their choice to split up so they don’t suspect anything”

You point between the two monsters marked in Eddie's book, “That way they only have to split the XP between those groups, not the entire party. Granting more XP per player and they’ll be prepared for the boss fight afterward.”

You look over at him as he thinks about what you just said, “You know that just might work,” He leans forwards and starts frantically writing in the book, “Shit! That’s awesome, I could kiss you rn!”

You blush at his words, wishing he’d make them true. You lean back a little to hide your rapidly heating face from Eddie, but still standing behind him as you watch him work. It’s always been a thing you love, seeing how involved in D&D he got. The way he would just block out the entire world to focus on his campaigns. It was mesmerizing to watch.

There were very few things that could break his concentration; you, the idiot possé (Eddie’s nickname for the Hellfire Club, one he only uses with you around and of course) and Chrissy. It’s like Eddie was a search dog, always looking for her. Even if he was in deep with whatever was in front of him, he’d drop it and look at her, just like right now.

Chrissy was walking into the cafeteria linked up to Jason, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. You roll your eyes at their PDA, wishing they would just can it til the entire school wasn’t in the room with them. In .2 seconds Eddie’s head shoots up to look at her. The way his eyes light up and dilate pains you because you know it’ll only hurt him later when she rejects him.

He sits back in the chair, almost crushing your fingers before you retract them from the back. The pair walk across the lunch room, straight to their regualr spot with the rest of the stuck up rich bitches at the school.

You’ve never understood how Eddie fell in love with Chrissy. Sure he’s told you plenty of times it’s just that you never understood why he liked her. Yes she was beautiful, and popular, and rich, but she was the complete opposite of Eddie. She never wore black clothes, unless it was a fucking mini skirt. She didn’t listen to Ozzy, or Dio or even Sabbath, nor would she like it if she did. And finally she didn’t like D&D!

You on the other hand, were his perfect match. You weren’t popular, or conventionally beautiful and sure as hell weren’t rich. Come on as if a rich person would choose to live in a trailer park, and then there was the music taste. You loved Sabbath, Ozzy and Dio, you even listened to Def Leppard when you were with Eddie, because you know how much he loved them.

You’ve spent the last 8 years slowly becoming the girl of his dreams, not on purpose it’s just how you are, only for him to fall for the complete opposite of that. Pretending it doesn’t hurt is getting harder and harder everyday. But you’d rather keep it a secret than get rejected by the one person who you really trust.

---

A few days later, on Friday, you’re sitting on your bed reading a book when Eddie comes rushing into the trailer, not even bothering to knock, like always.

“Come to the basketball game with me.” It’s not a question, more of a demand. You normally would but after these past couple of days you just weren’t up for seeing him drool over Chrissy some more.

“No thanks. I’m good right here,” You say without even looking up from the book in your hands.

“Oh come on, please? It’ll be fun,” He walks closer to you, taking your book and tossing it to the side, “I promise.”

“No. Eddie-” You were now getting dragged from your warm bed by him.

“Come on please! It’ll only be for a little bit. Just a quick pop in and pop out. Not that big of a deal,” He had your wrists in a death grip, “We can smoke afterwards, and you won’t even have to pay me for it.”

“I don’t pay for it anyways,” You mumble under your breath. You’re getting more annoyed with him asking now.

“True but-”

“But nothing Eddie,” You look him dead in the eyes, “I don’t want to go to the stupid basketball game just so that you can drool over Chrissy Fucking Cunningham! You can go,” You rip your hands away from him, “But leave me out of it!”

He looks stunned that you just spoke to him that way. You two have fought in the past but it was always solved with the promise of a smoke after whatever stupid thing you were arguing about. He’d never seen you this mad before.

Eddie’s been talking about Chrissy all week and you’ve had enough. After their little run in you just couldn’t take his obsession anymore, everytime he’d start to talk about her you’d change the subject.

“Okay then,” You can hear the pain and betrayal in his voice, “Fine. Stay here see if I care,” Then he leaves. He didn’t even say goodbye, he just left.

You knew you came off harsh but you’re tired of seeing the man you love fawn over someone who barely knows he exists.

You flop back onto your bed and curl into your blankets. You hate being mean, especially to Eddie, but you really weren’t in the mood to see him drooling over Chrissy. You never were, you were typically better at hiding it though. Which only made this worse.

Eddie stomps to his van, slamming the door when he gets inside. What the hell was that about?! She never acts this way. Maybe shes on her period or something. Eddie didn’t feel like thinking about this anymore so he starts his car and speeds off towards the high school.

You lay there in your bed, trying to figure out a way to apologize to Eddie later on, you don’t wanna just leave things here, you love him too much and you can’t fathom the thought of him being mad at you over something this small. 

You think about all the possible things Eddie loves when you hear a knock on your front door. You climb out of bed and throw a blanket around yourself. You walk slowly to the door, worried it might be Eddie coming back to yell at you or something. You open the door and come face to face with your mom.

“Mom wha-”

“Left my key card, I can’t seem to do anything right this morning,” She walks over to the couch and starts rummaging through the cushions to find her card, “Is Eddie here? I didn’t see his van outside.”

You lean up against the counter, watching your mother search frantically, “No he just left, we sorta got into a fight and then he stormed out.”

Your mom pops up from behind the couch, “Wait what? But y’all never fight. What happened?”

You sigh and start picking at your fingers, a nervous habit you have, “Well he wants to go to the basketball game tonight but I’m just not feeling up to it but when I told him it came off a little harsh.”

Your mom stops her search by the couch and moves towards her bedroom, flinging blankets and pillows all over the room, “Well maybe just tell him that you didn’t mean for it to come out so strongly, but you just don’t feel up for these basketball games anymore!” She yells from her room “But remember you gotta do what feels right I mean- OH YES!!” Your mom rushes out of her bedroom, key card in hand.

“I would if he didn’t seem so pissed at me because of it. I mean I love Eddie, but this obsession with Chrissy is just too much.”

“Wait. This is about a girl?”

Your face drops at the realization of your words. You’re mom knows that you and Eddie aren’t dating but she’s always thought that maybe there was a chance at some point, this just opens up a new problem.

“Maybe…”

“Oh sweetie,” Your mom walks over to you and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Eddie and you have been best friends forever, don’t let a girl come between that.”

You nod at her words, “I know. I know, it’s just he’s so obsessed with her and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m gonna give you some advice that I was given, girlfriends and boyfriends come and go but this,” She motions between you and the direction of Eddie’s trailer, “This is forever. You can’t let this crush get in the way of that, got it?”

“Got it,” Your mom pulls you into a hug, squeezing tightly, “Did you steal that advice from Friends?”

“Maybe but it fits. Now I’ve gotta get back to work, be back later,” Kissing the top of your head and grabbing her things your mom heads out the door, “I love you!”

You smile at yourself as you head back to your room. Maybe your mom was right, maybe you should just stick this through until either he gets rejected and gives up or somehow finally gets Chrissy. You look at your phone on the nightstand, knowing what you need to do next.

[for-a-longlongtime]

On Dieter, Goya's Black Paintings, and Pedro on Talk Art 

Alright y'all, it's Saturday evening, I have nothing better to do (I actually do but I don't feel like it), so welcome to my mini TED Talk about 'how to pay too much fucking attention to the Pedro cinematic universe'. None of this is new, and maybe everybody already knew about this, but I didn't... so here's a nerdy tangent courtesy of googling/wikipedia-ing.

I was reading a Dieter!fic (this one right here by @chaoticgeminate - go read her writing!) earlier today, which refers to the 'Saturn Devouring His Son' painting - that giant mural Dieter is working on in The Bubble:

(his brush isn't even touching the wall tho, ha)

The original 'Saturn' by Goya

The fic mentioned its part of 'The Black Paintings', so I got curious and started googling. I'm no art major or expert, so please allow me to just paraphraze the Wikipedia page. 'Saturn' is part of a group of 14 Goya paintings that are called Pinturas Negras/The Black Paintings. They "portray intense, haunting themes, reflective of both his fear of insanity and his bleak outlook on humanity" --this was late in Goya's life, and was connected to several illnesses he had experienced (and the fear of relapsing) and political turmoil in Spain at the time (post-Napolean war, changing Spanish government, etc.

Trivia fact 1: Goya actually made these paintings right on the walls of the Quinta del Sordo (so-called Deaf Man's villa) where he was staying -- so I love that Apatow had Dieter also paint right on the walls.

Trivia fact 2: while Goya was living in this villa, he actually became gravely ill (again) - not by a pandemic obviously, but it's hard to not link that loosely to the COVID period. He had never intended for these 'Black Paintings' to become public; "these paintings are as close to being hermetically private as any that have ever been produced in the history of Western art" (the murals were eventually transfered to canvas by other folks once he had moved out of the villa). Switching back to The Bubble -- I love how the tragic influence of Goya's illness(es) and art/things 'made at home away from the world, not intended for an audience' (so obviously, in a bubble) has that connection to the COVID experience and how many folks were suddenly homebound, along with the burden of illness in many ways (lord knows this all did a serious number on our mental health). In the movie, Dieter and the others do not want to go into isolation again, but that solitude is what eventually led him to painting on the walls in his room. This is not a 'grand discovery' of any kind, but I got a kick out of the parellels once I read up on it - and honestly makes me appreciate the movie a bit more, haha.

Not happy about another quarantine period.

Alright, more hyperfocusing after the cut:

Some googling led me to a post from last year by @nicolethered (gifs in this post are hers), and she included screencaps of the walls of Dieter's room (during that drug scene), which I hadn't even noticed while watching the movie. Upon taking a closer look, I noticed they're outtakes from other pieces of Goya's Black Paintings! I thought that was really cool, they sure worked on the details with that set (there's one more that's shown in a different shot but I can't exactly figure out which outtake that is):

First one is a mirror image from Two Old Men Eating Soup and the second one is basically Satan aka 'The Great He-Goat' from the Witches' Sabbath painting. Which IMO makes for fucking hilarious perfection a.k.a. trivia fact 3 -- because we all know about Dieter and his little emotional support goat, LOL. Excellent connection.

*insert sound bit from Hot Ones interview* : "Just let me love you!"

Anywaaay there's more. The Bubble was shot during Feb 22, 2021 to April 16, 2021, right? Pedro has spoken about how his input in shaping Dieter was mostly regarding his outfits (the Crocs, the robe, etc). But then I suddenly remember the Talk Art interview he had done in 2018, and how he namechecks 'The Dog' by Goya - and lo, guess which painting is actually part of the 14 Black Paintings? Yeap - the dog! So I checked the podcast and he was asked, 'if you could be any painting, what painting would you be?' by Russell. Here is the painting, and below it is what he said on Talk Art:

'The Drowning Dog' by Goya

"I think… it's a Goya. Yeah, old school. I think it's called 'Dog Buried in Sand' or something like that. It's so… I remember feeling it was such a visual representation of helplessness, in such a… come on, let's all admit that helplessness is a very recurring feeling for many of us, you know what I mean? When it comes to so many things. I guess… I was in Spain, in Madrid, and I was 20. And I went to the Goya museum. What's interesting about it is that the head of the dog is really quite small and sort of adorable, it looks like a stray mutt, and the painting - if I can remember it correctly - is very rectangular. There's so much above him, like the world just seems so big. It's quite incredible, isn't it? I know it's really sad, and sort of dark, and maybe I really like enjoy perceiving myself like..." (He gets interrupted by Russell, and then continues;) "Yeah, he's certainly not dying, it's sort of - it's a moment", (then interrupts himself with;) "Maybe he's totally dying, there's no way that dog is getting out of that. That dog is SO fucked. Anyway, that's the painting that represents my life". (All three of them burst out into laughing.)

If you're still reading this - I am impressed with your dedication to my silly little post, haha. Anyway, I just thought it was so striking that there basically is a straight line from the painting he mentioned in Talk Art to what Dieter is painting in the Bubble. Makes me wonder if perhaps he - or even Russell/Robert - had any input in that part of Dieter's backstory.

Thank you for attending my TED Talk on artistic analysis of Dieter Bravo during COVID, we now resume your regularly scheduled program for Saturday night. 🤪

(Have I been smoking because a local dispensary actually had 'Mando' bud? I sure as fuck have and I blame that for this post.)

[ehh-is-the-name]

II 18 AM I RIGHT FOLKS????

OH MY FCJING GODD, I didn't visit this site for like 4 days just to not get spoiled and that was THE CORRECT DECISION!!!

WE STAY WINNING!!!! TAKE MY VIDEO AND GIFS!!!!

First of all, let's just all take a minute to appreciate the best part <3

There was the pg line later, and I really don't blame them. I mean... come on now this felt graphic. It's literally like if someones guts was splayed across the ground after an explosion. I love it but holy shit. Anyway my favourite gif on my PC:

Him getting his comeuppance is what I needed. I can die peacefully now <3

At the same time, I really can't get over this-

I mean, just look at the way he's staring- He definitely wants a bite.

= - - =

Now that I got that out of my system let me start from the top.

I can't be the only one to think that he might've been thinking about... Ya know. Let's just say season 1 finale-ing it again once he realised that Cobs wasn't holding him. Though that might be projection, he was probably just looking at everything truly being gone.

THIS SCENE ACTUALLY GAVE ME CHILLS. MePhone was so silent for every part up to this, hearing him sound absolutely petrified to the cut to the stabbing is ACTUALLY terrifying. God, it was like the suitcase being torn in half scene except real-

The abusive alcoholic father memes were right.

^ Quite literally my reaction to the first half of the ep today. Literally guess he's really good at hitting. Cobs can't swing a sword (thank god) but apparently, he can hit hard enough to fucking shatter glass in one hit.

This one too... Bro's cared about them so much and I can't with this shit man- I FUCKING CAN'T!!! LITERALLY MAKING SURE NOBODY COULD DIE OVER THIS SHIT AGAIN-

I actually can't y'all. I finished this ep like 4 hours ago and I still can't unhear or unsee these scenes.

"I made you so I can unmake you"??? "I desurve this"????? "You wanted my approval but I didn't care if you lived or died"!!! HOLY FUCKIN SHIT-

Sure, I could pull a book outta Cobs' and be like "lol he's dead who cares about a dead man" but DAWGS I can't stop thinking about the layers of trauma literally everyone's going to deal with specifically mephone because I'm a mephone head, sorry not sorry at all. In the span of a day, he watched everyone he cared about die, come back to life, his brother die, his abuser die, and move on from the reminder of his abuser (inanimate insanity). Like that's a lot to happen in a day guys. That's A FUCKTON to happen in a day. BOX IS ALIVE TOO- LIKE C'MON THiS IS CUFKCING CRASZY.

I don't even know what to say about this scene, I just really like it. Maybe it's 'cause he pulled out his kernels. Moving on.

This scene fuckin' gets me- His fuckin' "THEY'RE STILL ALIVE????" Will always get me. Maybe it's 'cause of all the talk of them being dead it just gets me that he got to know that they weren't, and that they didn't die <3

Top 10 scenes that make me glad Cobs exploded. I can't believe he fucking died for our sins (I'm still coping).

THE WAY HE WAS WITH MEPAD BEFORE HE WOKE UP </3 I can't believe they fucking killed him after showing this in the beginning.

That transition from early s2 to late s2 style was phenomenal, but just look at the scene- MePhone essentially talking to a brick wall about the show is killing me. MePhone probably felt more close to MePad than MePad did about him. I say that but I'm not saying MePad didn't care about him on some level. But y'all know. Also not overlooking the "Enhancing Obedience Emulation" installation either. I guess that's what makes him dying for our sins more meaningful. I can't believe he's fucking dead,.

Close to lastly 'cause I'm runing out of imgs in this post and I want to look through the tag now, I'M SO HAPPY TOILET'S ALIVE!!! ANd apparently not made by Mephone? Like MePad was talking about toilet when he showed up and idk- maybe I gotta watch that scene over again- Idon't know y'all. I'm feeling so many things this series finale.

OH OH AND THE SCENE WITH BOT'S LEGS AND FAN GOING "This is gonna be a whole thing, isn't it" WITH BOW IN THE FOREGROUND. IT FUCKING BETTER BE!!!! I NEED THEM TO TALK!!! PLEASE!

Oh and actual last thing, I actually SCREAMED when 3gs came on screen here.

Everything about this scene. There were many objects being mirrored, like Box and Suitcase, but 3gs and Mephone being face to face with breaks made the title click. They've always been mirrors of each other and I didn't even realise it. They're both free and it's genuinely beautiful. I hope the demolish Meeple as an act of freeing everyone there. I want the metags free, I want mecintosh free, everyone. Very glad 4s still exists inside of Mephone, it was so nice to see him, but I really want everyone to be free. Can't believe Mepad fuckin' died for our sins.... Everyone grew in someway or another, I think.

All in all, I'm just glad the corn man's dead <3

I didn't make popcorn but he did burn!!

Happy inanimate insanity y'all! We've made it to the end of an era <3

[iguessitsjustme]

I Saw You In My Dream Ep 3&4 Thoughts

It is so hot and I am so tired but that will not stop me from my liveblog. I can probably only watch one episode but maaaaybe I can squeeze in two. *eats donut* Let’s go. Under the cut:

A trigger warning before the episode? Honestly that’s amazing. More shows do this please and thank.

Noisy neighbors go AWAY. It’s too hot to be noisy.

I am not a fan of Pan. If she’s only doing this because she wants to become famous like…that’s fine but that’s not gonna work out for her. She needs to be doing it for the love of it. Also her desire to be famous is stronger than her feelings for her boyfriend? She should have broken up with him long ago. Yu deserves better. He will get better. But something is definitely rubbing me the wrong way about her deciding to go on a dating reality show while she has a boyfriend, definitely before talking to him about it, simply because she wants to be famous.

This is so unbearably cute actually and it also doesn’t make me feel particularly sleepy AT ALL. Nope. No siree. Not me. Nope.

IT GOT CUTER WIHGKJDHGKJFHKGJH. Someone please tell me this moment has been giffed. I need it.

What is the age difference here? Because I do love a good age difference.

Now WHOMST is this random badminton player and WHAT will be the outcome of him hitting Ai with a birdie?

YU IS PEELING THE SHRIMP. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. YU IS PEELING THE SHRIMP FOR AI.

Oh no oh poor baby Ing. This hurts so deliciously. Pine away, my friend, pine away. Yo will be yours eventually.

Yeah Pan is actually the worst. She can go away now.

Levitating food ball? Is this a dream? What’s happening. I’m here for it.

Oh it WAS a dream. Less fun but okay.

Well this liveblog was short and I gotta watch episode 4 tonight because I don’t think I’ll be able to watch tomorrow so I’m just gonna jump right in. I probably won’t say much because I am so tired but I wouldn’t be able to sleep after that cliffhanger. You get it.

These two are too cute for their own good. Ai is so, so worried but refuses to admit it and Yu will just tease him about it forever.

Yeah. This is the face of a man in love. In love with Ai. Can’t believe that his wildest dreams are seemingly coming true. Because Ai worries about him. And jumps into the sea after him. And won’t go home unless he goes home. And has been so incredibly clingy lately. Yeah Yu is in love and nothing this show says or does (even giving Yu an ex) will convince me that Yu hasn’t had a crush on Ai for years.

Does the levitating mean it’s a dream that’s not going to happen? Or if it happens it’s not gonna be exactly how Ai dreams it?

Yo definitely knows something about Yu’s feelings the way he keeps hinting at those two but Ai is just starting to get feelings of his own so Yo has to be making his assumptions purely based on Yu, right?

Oh man I want to keep watching. But that’s not a good idea. I need to go to bed at some point. But this show is really hitting all the spots for me I think.

[heynowisavedyouright]

a thing about the fir$t double gif from today

$tarting panel 9 , with 10 being empty and 11 $kipped ( unle$$ that one wa$ a glitch on my $ide that happened when converting the wepb file into a gif ) , we $ee mikoto $peak a character per panel

や // てやるよお

Ya // te yaru yo o

" do $omething $omething $omething " . google tran$late $pit$ out " let$ do thi$ " however

remind$ you of another quote doe$nt it

omae no tame ni yatte yaru yo

^ de$cription of double . end of the quote and the fir$t character . id gue$$ the la$t panel i$ where he $tart$ to $ay the full phra$e from the $tart , a $ort of a " ill do thi$ , for your $ake ill do thi$ " kind of phra$ing

[onewinged-sephiroth]

will you be gif-ing more first soldier sephiroth? 🥺

YES I WILL!💜

Been busy with other stuff lately 😭

[idristardis]

I'm (Kinda) Back!!

*slowly opens door and sticks head through*

Hey guys!! Don't know if anyone I knew is still around here, as I literally haven't posted anything at all in two years (and probably longer for actual fic/gifs). I've been lurking occasionally, and clearing bots out of my followers, but other than that, I know I've been MIA.

But, late to the party though I am, I did hear about the recent canceling of NCIS:LA (booo!!) and am finally, after five years, catching up from where I left off**. I doubt I'll make it all the way to the current episodes by the time things end (I'm just finishing Season 9 now) but it feels good to see those familiar faces on my screen again...it's really like picking up with old friends, in a way.

I'll try to be around a bit more here and there as the final season unfolds (though with two jobs and a hectic schedule, I make no promises), but it's good to be back here too...as I try to remember/relearn how this hellsite we all love functions.

So...hey there, I've missed you all!!

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

**I stopped watching five years ago, not because of any issue with the show, but because I moved and my life circumstances completely shifted. Writing time went down to about zero percent and while I still longed to watch the show in a way that would let me really delve deep and analyze it so that I could then fic it, I just didn't have the time...so I kept DVR-ing it, thinking "I'll get back to it, I will, I will..." and life kept carrying on, and then my DVR deleted a couple of the seasons, and I nearly gave up...but I've been re-recording all reruns I can find of Seasons 9-13 and slooowly getting caught up. I'm not waiting to watch it in that deep dive way anymore....though that doesn't mean I won't fic it...but again, no promises. I'm just trying to get caught up because I missed enjoying the show for the show's sake.

[kim-ruzek]

I'm low-key obsessed with gif-ing at the moment which is all well and good, that's fine, I'm having fun but also now I am also low-key worried about myself because it's late and I'm not only gif-ing but I'm making hollyoaks gifs like this is when I know it's crossed over into an obsession