#gotta appreciate irony when it pops up! you never know when it's coming for you

[idoodlestuffsometimes]

The folks fell down the family ancestry rabbit hole this weekend due to sudden maybe cousin(??) and anyway, feels extremely ironic to find out after a year of Brother's Keeper that we're apparently descended from one of two orphan brothers in early american history lmao wtf

[maxmiz]

Okay, If Max were to propose Mariam on her 23rd birthday, what would it be like? Please write something on this, I am eagerly waiting to see this content written by you.

Firstly, thank you much for the ask @velox-the-knight. I thought I’d do one better and write a short one shot fanfic on this. But I’ve tweaked the facts a little. I’ve made it so that they’re both 28 (23 feels a bit too early for someone like Max to marry idk?) and I’ve not made it on her birthday. But I’ll hope you’ll like this!

Also tagging @stroblitzfalborg, @bakutenmayhem @araingirl @midnightstarr8 @gingericywolf @luxahheart @dangpanterita @turquoisewisteria @tshjortile @hiwataris-bitch and anyone else who would like some Max/Mariam content. Feedback is appreciated from anyone who likes Max/Mariam in the fandom! (This is a hurriedly written short fic, so it may not be great lol)

FAIRYTALE

The path to the dojo was covered in chrysanthemums and a young, blithe man strolled down the road, inhaling the fresh scent of spring into his lungs in the hopes that it would inspire him to finally pop the big question. The golden strands of his hair mirrored the bright beams of the radiant sun above, and twenty-eight-year-old Max Mizuhara strode into his best friend’s house with every ounce of his courage tucked away in a little black box in his pocket. Today was the day that he would ask her to marry him.

The familiar, idyllic setting of Takao’s house greeted him at the entrance and comforted him as he tried to pull himself together and calm his nerves. The oddly mature words of wisdom of his precocious younger sister, Charlotte, surfaced in his mind – if you know she’s the one, then she is. If she’s not, you can move on to other things. Like buying me a Playstation.

His eyes scanned the dojo. He half hoped that Daichi would not spring out of some corner with a bowl of soup in his hand and ruin the bouquet of wild flowers that Max was carrying, by tripping and falling over some rock as usual. Max’s mother, Judy, had not appreciated Daichi’s clumsiness when he had all but destroyed her immaculate designer pantsuit by spilling a drink on it by accident.

I can’t believe that I brought flowers, he thought to himself amused. Max had never really been the flowers-and-chocolates type of boyfriend. Romantic gifts were more of Rei and Takao’s domain. Mariam and Max had always had a jovial, easy-going relationship. They did many things together – from trekking to mountaintops and sleeping under the stars together, to skydiving and dancing at carnivals to which Raul and Julia often invited them. But romantic cliches had never been something that either of them was particularly fond of.

Growing up with parents who rarely lived in the same city, Max had never had the occasion to watch any romance blossom between them. Family dinners were often a cold affair, with his mother being an emotionally distant workaholic and his father being in blissful denial about the crumbling state of their marriage. Even as things had improved between his parents after he had won his first world championship, Max’s faith in romance and marriage had forever been marred by the shadow of his childhood in a dead home.

Yet, here he was, ready to ask the love of his life to marry him, with flowers no less. The irony was not lost upon him.

Oddly, it was his two friends Kai and Hiromi who had suggested that he take flowers with him as he proposed to her. Max could swear he almost choked on his drink as he heard those words leave Kai’s mouth. It made him wonder if, in private, Kai had actually ever given his nature-loving boyfriend Brooklyn any flowers. The thought of a romantic Kai seemed almost as inconceivable to him as the thought of Yuri and Takao’s errant brother Hitoshi hooking up. But stranger things had happened in their world – Balkov becoming a reality show star, for one. He certainly gave the Kardashians some stiff competition in the vanity department. Yuri almost retched at seeing Balkov’s vainglorious Instagram account.

Chuckling, Max looked down at his bouquet as the memory of his last conversation with his friends popped up in his mind.

“You listen to me Maximilian Mizuhara…”

“Actually, it’s just Max,” said Max, cutting her short, meekly.

“Did I say that you could interrupt me?” growled Hiromi, rolling her eyes. “Now, as I was saying…you have to get her flowers! You can’t propose without flowers to a woman who has been raised in the mountains in the lap of nature. Back me up, Hiwatari!”

Kai put down his drink on the table and shrugged. “You heard the woman.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Max, surprised. “And what if she does not like flowers?”

“Then you can take off your clothes and hope that she forgets about the flowers when she sees you in your magnificent birthday suit,” said a drunk Takao, laughing at his own joke without a care in the world.

“Takao!” said Hiromi, smacking him lightly on his head.

“Ow, what was that for?” said Takao, crossly.

“Your jokes are getting worse every day. Soon you’ll give Ivan a run for his money and that is not a compliment. Ask Yuri and Boris. They had to make a jar specifically for him in which he has to drop a penny every time he makes a terrible joke. There was enough money in it by the end of the year for Yuri to buy Julia a gift pack from Victoria’s Secret and have money left over for Boris and Sergei to go drinking expensive wine at Ralf’s vineyard. Do you want me to make such a jar for you too?” said Hiromi, narrowing her eyes.

“If it helps get you your favorites from Victoria’s Secret, why not,” said Takao, playfully.

Hiromi blushed and pretended to text on her phone.

“Okayyyy, get a room you two,” said Rei, laughing.

“Alright, guys, can we deal with my problem before Mr. World Champion here starts his drunken monologue? Is it yay or nay on the flowers? Won’t it be too cliched for Mariam to appreciate?” said Max, frowning.

“Make it so that it isn’t,” said Kai, in a deep voice.

 Make it so that it isn’t. I hope I’m doing this right.

Max walked further into the dojo to see Mariam sitting on the porch, with her long blue strands of hair casually tied up on top of her head in a bun. She was dressed in a white shirt and red skirt, while a tattoo of Sharkrash on her smooth, porcelain skin glimmered under the light of the sun. Max gasped as he watched his beautiful girlfriend concentrate on the book that she was reading, one that Max instantly recognized as his favorite, personal copy of Bitches Gotta Beyblade. Ming Ming had written quite the tantalizing but wonderful biography of her life as a beyblading and singing sensation – and though Max had initially found her annoying during her BEGA days, he had come to admire her over the years. Juggling school and Beyblade while winning Grammys every year was no mean feat.

As Max stepped into the garden by the little pond, Mariam lifted her face from her book and looked at him with a smile on her face.

“Maxie. What’s up? Why are we meeting at the dojo when neither Takao nor grandpa are here? Feels a little weird,” said Mariam, suspiciously.

“Weird? Why is that? We’re always hanging out at the dojo on weekends,” said Max, hiding the bouquet behind his back.

“You know…like we’re trespassing or something while he’s not around,” said Mariam.

“Trespassing? Did your conscience prick you like this when you were stalking me day and night to seal my bit-beast?” teased Max.

“For the last time Max, I wasn’t stalking. I was just gathering intel,” said Mariam, feigning annoyance.

“Alright, Mata Hari, pipe down,” quipped Max. “Ozuma can’t hear you, you know. We both know that you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“Oh yeah, and who was the one putting on all the moves in a collapsing building? Seriously Max, who flirts when they’re almost about to get crushed by a building?” said Mariam, playfully.

“Guilty as charged, m’lady,” said Max, laughing.

Mariam uncrossed her legs and leaned against a wooden pillar casually. “What have you got behind you?”

A romantic cliché, that’s what.

“Hmm, let’s see,” said Max, pulling out the bouquet and presenting it to her.

“Flowers…” said Mariam, surprised.

“Not just any flowers,” said Max, handing her the bouquet.

Mariam looked more closely at the bouquet and Max could see her face lighting up.

“Orchids…from my village in the mountains…” said Mariam, looking touched.

Max knew that Mariam missed her village frequently. Even though she quite liked her life as a marine biologist, free from the shackles of her tribe’s strict and conservative rules, Max often found her wistfully longing for the mountains that she called her home. He knew that if flowers were the way to go, he would personally write to Yusuf and request him to send them to Japan, where he and Mariam were living temporarily after taking a sabbatical from their jobs in California.

“What…what’s the occasion?” said Mariam.

Oh boy, here goes.

“Well…I don’t know how to do this…” mumbled Max, as he slipped his hand into his pocket.

Mariam watched him curiously as he pulled out a little black box.

“Oh…my…” said Mariam, intuitively, the minute that she laid her eyes on the box. “Are you asking me to…”

Max stared at Mariam, unsure about how to proceed with it. He stood quietly staring at her for a solid two minutes until Mariam said, “Uh…Max?”

Kneel, you moron. You can gawk at her later, thought Max as he mentally slapped himself, before going down on one knee.

“Mariam…I never thought that there’d come a day that I’d find myself asking you…or anyone, to marry me. I have never believed in fairytale endings or happily ever-afters. And I don’t believe that being with you is my fairytale ending, because nobody knows what the future holds. But you certainly are the beginning of my fairytale. Now I wish I had Rei’s eloquence to be able to come up with a romantic poem on the spot, but that’s not me. I’m all smiles and jokes and mustard on noodles and we have had always had an unconventional relationship. So, in the spirit of that…” said Max, opening the box, mid-sentence.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Much to Mariam’s surprise, Max pulled out a red, silken bandana from the box and tied it around her forehead.

“I could have got a ring…and I will after this, but I don’t do cliches. Now, I’m 14 years late, but here’s a long overdue replacement for the bandana you tied around my arm when I injured myself protecting you in that collapsing building. I’m tying this around your forehead as a promise to protect you for as long as I can, no matter how many buildings collapse on us and no matter what hurts me in the process. So…will you…marry me?” said Max.

Mariam gasped. She looked like someone had punched her in the gut.

“You know, Takao’s garden has just been hosed an hour ago. My jeans are getting soaked in the mud. Could you answer faster?” said Max, sheepishly.

“Well…yes, you idiot!” said Mariam, throwing her arms around Max and hugging him tenderly.

Kissing her softly on the cheek, Max pulled away and looked into her gorgeous green eyes. He had spent many a night looking into them, but this was the first time that he had seen a touch of vulnerability in them. If anything, her eyes looked even more beautiful now.

“Oh, that was so fucking cute, I’m going to faint!”

“Hell yeah, go Maxie!”

“Max, you dawg…”

Shocked, Max and Mariam looked to the left to see their friends peering at them from behind the dojo and giggling amongst themselves. Kai and Brooklyn did not seem to partake in their laughter, but smiled approvingly at him and Mariam.

“How long have you guys been there?” said Max, going red in the face.

“Long enough, buddy,” said Takao, bellowing with laughter.

“You promised you’d be out,” said Max, embarrassedly.

“And miss this? Never!” said Hiromi, slyly.

“Oh yeah, Kyouju even taped it,” said Rei, giving their bespectacled friend a nudge.

“It’s time for some celebration!” said Hiromi.

“Drinks in the garden?” said Takao.

“On it,” volunteered Brooklyn. Kai joined him to go into the house and fetch the celebratory champagne.

Max looked at his friends and then at Mariam, and smiled. He had finally found a sense of contentment that had eluded him for most of his life.

The beginning of a fairytale indeed.

[steve0discusses]

S4 Ep38: Awkward Hugs Episode

Remember how excited I was about the good storyboarder? Well this episode has the opposite of that. It looks a lot like they hit some sort of crunch and this entire episode got shipped to Singapore so that some other animation studio could deal with their problems. It’s got some jank.

And like listen, animation is hard, there’s a billion moving plates, there’s a lot of office politics and deadlines, this season in particular is very long and complicated, and I don’t know exactly what happened this episode, but it just...wow it’s a lot funny poorly animated moments and I was here for it.

So first off, Dartz died! I didn’t even cap it because it happened so quickly. He was standing there, a portal opened up, and then the Great Leviathan kind of munched him up in 3 frames of animation, and then dissolved away back into the portal. It was card shenanigans anyway, and I don’t go over card games here--just trust me he played cards, he lost, he died.

Once Dartz died, this happened, in the one place Roland thought he was safe.

Roland has spent a good amount of this time debating whether or not to go inside and now he’s got a situation. Is it safer in Soul Hut than...whatever this is?

I wouldn’t know either.

So he just decides to uh...look directly at it while everyone else deals with orb hell.

The three knights of Atlantis decide to revive the respective owners of their cards.

So Pegasus just has to sit back, relax, and find some other unsuspecting orb person to share his fanfiction deep cuts with.

PS, that was not an exaggeration on the lazy PowerPoint spiral-in transition--this episode was a marvel of “Oh crap we ran out of time!” last-ditch effort animation and I approve.

(read more under the cut)

And if you thought they were done being orbs now that we’re on a physical mortal plane--nah.

This is the closest Pharoah and Yugi have ever gotten to a physical hug. Just throwing it out there that this is the only time they’ve touched in any way as two separate entities. Also--I like that this is the same way Yugi holds his necklace when he’s talking to Pharaoh. Cute little parallel there.

And as I mentioned, there were a lot of people just hugging it out as if it’s the last episode of the season. First off, one of the most huggy people on this show, which I’m still surprised is the Kaibas.

(he did legitimately pretend to be asleep by the way, because as he was spiraling out of hell he was like “whaoooahahhh”)

So I guess if Mokuba, Tristan, and Tea woke up without being orbs first, then that really does mean they never died 2 episodes ago.

Fine. This is fine. I’ll append my headcanon.

...so Dartz really was just so tired of them that he decided to make them take a nap, huh? That Mokuba was so annoying he was just like “I’m turning them off ok? Not like OFF off, not killing them or anything, that would be rude--I just don’t like small one.”

Meanwhile Tea has a Yugi appreciation moment where she’s reunited with her very confusing relationship. Which is how she likes it best. Undefined in nearly every sort of way. A relationship made entirely out of subtext.

(and honestly, relationships made entirely out of subtext is like 75% of the teen dating experience, which I may have mentioned before, but I do not remember if I have because 2020 has wiped my memory of just so many things.)

I vocally, out-loud, went “Ahhhh!” at the screen because I FORGOT how big his eyes are. They are so wild usually, but with the animation B-team at the helm, I was just not ready for the eyes to return. Yugi’s eyes are just...an abomination in every way and I forget when I see them consistently. I get used to them, I get over it...But when I go an entire season without these hell eyes staring directly at me every five seconds, then it’s like I’ve seen them for the first time.

I’m glad he’s back but man his eyes.

Those eyes.

Anyway, on for some more awkward hugs. First off, Yugi’s visceral reaction to his pretty-much-a-wife-at-this-point giving him a...hug?

(she’s kneeling, by the way. Bro mentioned that it looks like she picked him up and held him entirely by the neck--that would have been great, and I would never doubt Tea’s strength, but she had the decency not to do that.)

And then to Yugi’s just overall confusion to whatever Joey Wheeler defines as a hug.

I am 5 feet 0 inches tall, much like Yugi, and can confirm that yes, some people do hug me like this.

This type of hug should be illegal, it’s very disorienting.

Then, Yugi got to do what he does best.

The FIRST THING he does from coming back from death is immediately hold back information. Mm. Yugi at his finest.

At the point that you’d assume that someone in this room would indicate that maybe this hell vortex is like...a situation...Roland comes in the room screaming for Kaiba to come outside and tell him what the hell to do with his life.

So they go outside and the city of Atlantis is popping out of the sea and flying directly into the air--which...sure, it doesn’t really go in the air usually...but I’ll take it.

And in case you’re like...wait, I thought Atlantis was in California, not in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, don’t worry, it’ll get even more confusing later on.

Also, this happened.

Most of the human race freakin died so like...not sure what we should be concerned about here. Gotta get that one last guy in Florida to board up his house, I guess.

I like that Tea is contractually obligated to beg Yugi to stay behind so she doesn’t have to live without him when...it’s like...Tea, your relationship is already a big ass question mark, and Yugi actually dying did not even mean you were living without him. He’s been around this whole season as Pharaoh, my dude. You have the only boyfriend who will not only never officially date you but will also officially never go away.

So like...earlier in the season it was mentioned that Florida had the pieces of Atlantis shoved in a museum so like...is Atlantis off of Florida now? Because the Battle of Atlantis was in the Bay Area, and Dartz lives in San Francisco, and they went on a helicopter and flew out to the sea so...

We GOTTA be in the Pacific, right?

Anyway, it could be that they’re worried it’ll hit the East Coast of Japan--which, yes--it would. That would also be way more pertinent to our cast of people who live in Japan, it’s just that if you’re doing a show in English that takes place in the USA and you say the “East Coast” it only means New York.

I don’t think the translation team got the memo, it was a very weird line.

Tea wishes Yugi luck instead of Pharaoh for once, and Yugi was like “I don’t know why you want to talk to me instead of the version of me with the fine ass.” and his confusion was kind of cute, but they didn’t actually go into any more deets than this.

Valon and Mai were almost making out with each other’s dead body like ten episodes ago, so maybe the team felt like they had enough practice to maybe almost approach something happening with their flagship couple? Almost.

But also...Yugi just has no idea that a few days ago Tea was trying to get Pharaoh to talk to her on a Caltrain by talking about wearing little swimsuits on a Florida beach date, and then Pharaoh got so upset he went to the tiny area between trains and started sobbing while punching a wall. Yugi doesn’t know this. I don’t think anyone will ever tell him.

And like...will anyone tell Yugi that Pharaoh woke up in Tea’s bed? Like no one, right? Like no one even knows that happened? The irony of how cautious Yugi is with this relationship after Pharaoh was just slicing and dicing for this entire season is great. It’s also probably unintentional, but I can still laugh at it.

Anyway, inside soul hut, Yugi got a little lost, and then his puzzle started glowing and brought him to the Macguffins from last season. Would have been really inconvenient if these got doused in the sea, honestly, and I don’t think the Ishtars would have appreciated it.

Also, this puzzle sensor would have been really, really useful in S2.

Meanwhile, I think Seto and Joey just stared at this glowy gate of hell thing being all “Do you know what this is, Kaiba? I was dead” and Kaiba being all “Hell if I know, I was also dead, I don’t know what this thing is.” And Joey being like “Well Yugi doesn’t know what it is, he was also dead.” and Kaiba being like “The only one of us alive was the dead guy who lives in Yugi’s imagination?”

And then Joey being like “Also, where the hell are we?”

So, frustrated that this obvious trap was simply too confounding, Dartz decides to explain to our dumb as hell cast what a “door” is.

Where we can then admire the sights of Atlantis! Which is mostly brick buildings and giant gates with snakes on them.

Also it would just be COVERED in dead fish but we’re gonna skip that and save it for what would be an extremely ill-fated Netflix live-action series that they will probably eventually make of Season 4. Netflix can’t help itself, you know it can’t. This is a spicy series. It would be terrible in gritty live action. Make it happen, Netflix.

I feel like the artist was trying desperately to fix Joey’s bangs and I feel that on an emotional level. We all want to fix Joey’s bangs. Why did they stop at Joey?

They find Dartz in some weird Gazebo which...OK. It was a whole lot of weird concept art that I didn’t cap because it’s like...nothing is terrifying about a Gazebo...

I straight up don’t understand Atlantis culture.

So, Dartz decided that he could just...use himself to raise the Great Leviathan. He had only one more soul he needed, and he was just as powerful as Yami--so lets just do it, lets just raise the snake!

MAN I just realized what a euphemism this season is.

Good job, Dartz.

Course this is how he spun his story to us, but he seemed pretty surprised when the Great Leviathan gobbled him up in the first 10 minutes of the episode.

But this is the story Dartz is sticking to. He, himself, will raise the Leviathan, himself, and he is very happy with his decision that he made all by himself. I mean, Dartz has been alive for 10,000 years, and maybe he got bored of immortality.

Dartz could have done this from day 1.

What’s up, Sephiroth? Nice little uh final fantasy thing we’re doing with this lizard’s face. I really can’t unsee these uneven man boobs (like what is that angle?) but it’s fine. Dartz doesn’t need hands or...legs...he’s a dragon now, like he can just bite stuff and fly around and stuff. Can’t be that bad.

But for reals, what is the dragon’s angle here?

what is it gonna DO?

Like after everyone’s dead. Is it just gonna...float around? Fly around outer space? Enjoy the sunrise?

Like what do dragons...DO?

Anyway, I’m sure we’ll never get the answer on why the Leviathan wanted to leave the core of the Earth so stinkin bad, but maybe--just maybe--this season might actually end next episode? Maybe?

Will I actually finish this season in 2020! I might! Y’all I MIGHT!

And for anyone reading these for the first time, here’s a link to read these in chrono order

[floralseokjin]

PBN drabble | Yoongi hangs out with Jimin and Jungkook (somewhere in between #2 and #4)

wordcount; 1.7k

“You’re shit at this,” Yoongi scoffed, watching Jungkook’s character get shot up on the screen for the third time. 

The screen went black and then there it was, ‘game over’ just rubbing salt into the wound. Jungkook yelled throwing himself back into the chair before shooting Yoongi a glare. “Why don’t you have a turn then, big man?” 

Yoongi ignored the sniggers from Jimin who was sat next to him and grinned. Usually that shit would’ve riled him up, but his mood had been perkier than usual lately.  Hanging out with tweedledee and tweedledum was something he’d actually chosen to do tonight instead of being forced to join in like Saturday nights usually entailed. Even if all three of them were squashed in front of Jimin’s monitor like a trio of sardines. Like he said, he was happier lately, it made him more social. But it also helped that you were busy tonight and he was bored without you… but so what. 

“Fine.” Yoongi grabbed the controller from Jungkook’s hand and got to work. It was a lot harder than he thought. Games had never really been his forte. He’d never wasted his time with them, not like Jimin and Jungkook who seemed to live their life around them. 

“Why are we so lucky to be graced with your presence anyway?” Jungkook probed. 

At that exact moment, Yoongi died. Embarrassingly quicker than Jungkook had. “Motherfucker!” He cursed, flinging the controller to the desk. It was a stupid game anyway. 

“_____ must be busy,” he heard Jimin say then. 

Yoongi froze, turning to his friend. “How do you know her name?” 

“Who’s that?” Jungkook asked, extremely interested. 

“Jimin,” Yoongi repeated. “How do you know her name?” He definitely hadn’t told him about you. It was done of his business and why would he care? Yoongi had no interest in who Jimin was fucking, but mainly, and most importantly, it was supposed to be a secret. It wasn’t like you guys had decided it, but it made sense, and besides, Yoongi had his reasons. Jimin didn’t know about his unrequited feelings, but his other friends did. Seokjin, Hoseok. It wouldn’t end well if they found out. He knew it. 

“Relax,” Jimin chuckled. “I’ve heard you moan it enough times over the past couple of weeks. You’re fucking gross.” 

Yoongi felt his face burn and he lowered his head to hide it. He hated feeling embarrassed. It was humiliating. 

“Woah, hold up,’ Jungkook whined. “Guys, c’mon don’t leave me out. What are you on about?” 

“Nothing, Yoongi’s just getting lucky almost every night that’s all.” Jimin teased, punching Yoongi’s shoulder. 

Yoongi eased. This didn’t matter. Jimin was just messing around with him. No need to take it so seriously. “At least someone is,” he shot back. Actually, Yoongi wouldn’t really call it ‘getting lucky.’ Deep down he knew he was making a mistake. It wouldn’t be long before things went terribly wrong. 

“Fuck, I can’t hang out for like two weeks because of finals and I miss it all.” Jungkook continued to pout like some big kid. “Who is she? What did you call her again?” 

“_____.” Jimin said with a slight moan, mimicking him, Yoongi guessed. 

Jungkook repeated your name. Yoongi kind of hated the way he pronounced it. It sounded wrong coming from his mouth. From Yoongi’s it was another story.  “Do I know her?” 

“Probably not.” He was getting uncomfortable again. All this attention wasn’t appreciated. 

“So what, you have a girlfriend now?” Jungkook paused to scoff. “She’s brave.” 

“She’s not his girlfriend,” Jimin laughed. That stung a little bit. Yoongi was thick skinned but he was weak when it came to you. Especially after all the times he’d spent inside you… 

“It’s gotta be just sex. I haven’t even seen so much as a pair of shoes from her. My guess is she’s embarrassed to be fucking him. Doesn’t want to he seen” 

Yoongi listened in mild amusement. For all he knew Jimin could be right. Maybe you were embarrassed to be fucking him. He’d never now. 

“I hear her enough though. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Jimin punched his shoulder again, like a proud father. Actually, Yoongi would agree with that. His greed when it came to you was insatiable. He was different when he was with you, inside of you… 

“Nice. Fuck buddies,” Jungkook grinned.  

“We’re not fuck buddies.” Yoongi corrected. “We’re…” He stopped. There was no way to describe it. What was he to you? Your rebound. What were you to him? He didn’t even want to think about that. 

“Thinking about it, I really think I know that name.” Jungkook ignored him anyway, still badgering on about your name. 

Jimin laughed. “Yeah, it’s a name, Kook, everyone’s heard thousands in their lifetime.” 

Jungkook shot him a look. “No, I mean, I know that name from around here. As in, I think I know her.” He turned to Yoongi. “Is she my age?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was getting dry. Why couldn’t they just stop fucking talking about you? “No. She’s around Jimin’s age.” 

“Oh my god, yes!” Jungkook shouted in excitement. Yoongi almost jumped. “I do know her! I mixed it up. It’s her brother who’s my age, Donghyuk!”

Yoongi was getting hot, uncomfortable. To add to it, he didn’t actually have a clue if Jungkook was right or not. He didn’t know if you had a brother, let alone what his name was. You didn’t talk about your lives that much… 

“We went to school together.” Jungkook continued. “I remember her because I–never mind.” 

“Do I know her?” Jimin asked. The game was long forgotten now. The screen was still black. The ‘game over’ now mocking Yoongi. 

“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugged. “You know Donghyuk, right?” He laughed suddenly. “Yeah, you do. Remember he’s the guy who got with Hannah right in front of you. That was so funny.” 

Jimin didn’t think so. He threw his slipper at his friend, who caught it perfectly. “Wait.” He suddenly remembered something. “If this is the same girl, I’m sure she had a boyfriend.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about her.” 

“I was good friends with her brother in high school.” 

“Whatever. Anyway, so she may have a boyfriend? That explains all the sneaking around. Girl’s got a guilty conscience.” 

Yoongi wasn’t listening to their conversation. Even though they had to talk over him, he was too busy spiralling. How the fuck did Jungkook know so much? What were the chances? One in a fucking million. He was that unlucky. 

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend.” He heard himself say. He needed to make that clear. You weren’t with Namjoon anymore. It was over. 

“Huh. Maybe they broke up then.” Jungkook looked puzzled. “I can’t remember his name. I know him from college. He was so cool and talented.” 

Yoongi fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, perfect Namjoon as always. Loved by everyone. Still loved by you… 

“Jesus, so you had a hard on for both of them.” They were still bickering, Yoongi thought to himself. Did they ever stop?

“Shut up.” Jungkook threw the slipper back. “Hang on, I have him on Facebook, maybe you know him too.” 

Yoongi felt sick. He knew he was about five seconds away from getting judged, getting caught, whatever you wanted to call it. Jimin knew who Namjoon was. He didn’t know why their friendship had broken down, but he knew it had. That was enough. He was going to put two and two together and make five. 

“Found him!” Jungkook exclaimed, holding out his phone to them. “Namjoon!” 

Done. It was fucking done. 

“Hold up.” Jimin looked confused, looking toward Yoongi. “Namjoon? As in Kim Namjoon?”

Jungkook replied even though the question was aimed at him.  “Yeah. So you know him?” 

“Yeah, I know him,” Jimin scoffed. “Yoongi does too. He’s his best friend. Of at least used to be.” 

Yoongi saw Jungkook’s eyes widen before he looked at the floor. His face was burning again. But not from embarrassment this time, just anger. Frustration. He felt mad. Mad at the world. Mad at his friends. Mad at Namjoon. Something dawned on him then… Should he feel mad at you? He didn’t know… 

“He hasn’t been my best friend for a long, long time.” 

“Is that why you’re sleeping with his girlfriend?” Jimin asked. 

“She’s not his girlfriend.” He didn’t owe Namjoon shit. He’d left you and broken your heart. 

“Whatever. Are you doing this to get back at him?” 

“No!” Jimin’s accusation pissed him off. See? He’d come up with five. “Why do you care anyway?” 

“I don’t. It’s just kind of a dicky thing to do if you’re using her like that.”

Yoongi chuckled at the irony. Who was using who? He didn’t know. “It’s just sex. Casual sex between two single people. Great fucking sex—not that you two idiots would know what that feels like.” 

“Pffft. I actually mastered the act of unhooking a girl’s bra with one hand the other week.” Jungkook had the balls to brag. 

Yoongi pulled a face. “Do you want a medal?” 

The younger guy ignored him. “So, you used to be best friends with Namjoon? What happened?” 

Yoongi shrugged. “We argued. There’s not much to tell.” 

“And now you’re fucking his girl,” Jimin remarked. 

“She’s not his girl. He broke up with her to move away.” Yoongi would not feel guilty for this. Not now, not ever. 

“Awh, he moved?” Jungkook popped back into the conversation. “That’s pretty gutting.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and picked up the controller. He’d rather play and lose again than keep this shit up. “Let’s just get back to the game. I don’t want to talk about him. He’s not worth my time.” 

From his peripheral vision he could see Jimin looking his way. Judging him no doubt. 

[zootopiathingz]

Thanksgiving in Quarantine

(A/N: more Pixar AU!! no there's not really a plot I just wanted to write something for thanksgiving. Also friendly reminder I've never cooked a day in my life so Imma just be vague on those details)

"Alright Pixars, listen up!" Mike called to get everyone's attention. After their conversations died down, he stepped forward towards the front of the room so all eyes would be on him. As the group leader, it was his job to host the monthly meetings and inform them of recent events or decisions made by him or their creator, Luxo Sr.

Once he was sure they were listening, he proceeded to explain, "So as you all know, even though we aren't affected by Covid, we still have to stay in quarantine for the sake of others. So that means that this year, we won't be spending Thanksgiving with the Disneys—"

"YES!!" Everyone cheered ecstatically, some standing up to pump their fists or high-five each other.

Mike was taken aback by their joyous reaction. Not just because it was a response to what he said, but he couldn't remember the last time all of them were that excited about anything. "—like we usually do.." He finished.

"Oh don't act like you're not relieved about it, Mike." McQueen said, "You hate the Disneys just as much as we do."

"Excuse me, but we do not 'hate' here." He said, "We just strongly dislike. Anyway, I'm not that relieved like you guys are. I was actually looking forward to our tradition."

"Well, I'm just glad we won't have to be greeted by them singing 'Be Our Guest' for the millionth fucking time." Woody scoffed, earning some murmurs of agreement from the rest.

Their relationship with the Disneys was complicated, to say the least. Luxo Sr. started the alliance with Mickey Mouse himself several years ago, and thus they joined the Disney family. But the Pixars were never given a say in the deal, and while they did admire the Disneys and were grateful for the success they brought them, that didn't mean they were tolerable to be around. The Pixars didn't hate them (despite constantly joking that they did), they just despised their arrogance and their random outbursts of songs every ten minutes.

"Wait so if we're not going to the Disneys, we're gonna have Thanksgiving at our house?" Marlin asked, "You do realize we haven't done that in like, 14 years? And obviously the family's grown since then."

Mike nodded, "I understand that, but if we're able to somehow survive Halloween, Easter, Christmas, and New Years on our own, then how hard can Thanksgiving be?"

"Your optimism is appreciated." EVE said, "But from past experience, this feels like yet another disaster waiting to happen."

"Yeah, I mean, who's even gonna cook dinner?" Remy asked.

"You are." Mike shrugged.

The rat man widened his eyes, "Say what now?"

Remy was a great cook, and honestly he was the only one who actually knew how to use an oven. But cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal for the whole group was asking a bit much.

"I can't cook that much in one day by myself!"

"You won't, some of us will help you. Right, guys?" Mike asked. But he got no responses, instead everyone just awkwardly looked away.

Remy sighed, "Come on, guys. Do you really want to eat burnt turkey for Thanksgiving? Imelda?"

She put her hands up in defense, "Don't look at me. I don't know how to make white people food."

"Okay, relax. We'll have WALL-E help you." Mike said, gesturing to the robot man—who gave an enthusiastic wave.

But this offer didn't make Remy feel any better. Out of all the Pixars Mike could've suggested, it just had to be WALL-E. "Seriously?" He asked, "You know he burns toast, right?"

"He'll be fine." Mike waved a dismissive hand. "..probably. Okay, does anyone else want to help with Thanksgiving dinner?"

Once again there was nothing but silence and awkward glances. Remy looked around with a pleading face, trying to get anyone to agree, but no such luck. Well, until Atta got tired of the lack of responses and and decided it was best to take one for the team. "Alright fine. I'll help you." She said to Remy.

"Thank Luxo." He sighed with relief, "You are a saint, Atta."

She shrugged, "I try."

"Then it's settled." Mike said, "Thanksgiving will be hosted by Remy, Atta, and WALL-E. Let's pray they don't screw it up."

The three gave him a cold look, while the others nodded in agreement.

—

Thursday came sooner than they realized, and unfortunately due to the pandemic, buying groceries was a pain in the ass and getting what they needed for dinner took longer than they would've hoped. Luckily they were able to have it all in their kitchen and (hopefully) would have enough time to make it. And even though they were spending the holiday by themselves, the Pixars still got dressed up and decorated for the occasion.

Since the kids would be joining them at the table as well, that meant having to cook for even more people. Remy, WALL-E, and Atta were hard at work in the kitchen making gravy, deviled eggs, sweet potato casserole, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, etc. And of course, turkey. At first it didn't seem like cooking was going to be so bad. They got an early start before most of the Pixars even woke up. If all went well, they would have dinner done by the afternoon.

"Okay guys, we've got a full house of hungry Pixars so we gotta get this done quick." Remy reminded them, "Atta, you're on pie detail, and you're gonna help me with the turkey. WALL-E, you focus on the casserole, eggs, and making sure Atta stays away from the marshmallows."

Atta slowly looked over at him while he pointed at her, "Yeah, I see you."

She narrowed her eyes at him before slowly reaching her hand toward the bag of marshmallows. He scolded her as she popped another one into her mouth, smirking at him and holding back a laugh. But then the two quickly moved on, since they couldn't waste much time on banter and jokes.

"I don't see how the Disneys do this every year." WALL-E commented, taking a bite of bread.

"Well, they don't actually make it. They have a whole cooking staff that serves them every meal. Which is kinda why they invite us in the first place." Atta explained to him, helping Remy baste the turkey.

Remy scoffed, "And yet there's only one chef in this house. Man, I'd love it if I could get more help around here. Hopefully the new Pixars will know how to cook."

"That's what you say every time." Atta chuckled.

"Maybe if I keep saying it, it'll happen." He shrugged.

After a few minutes, the turkey was ready to cook. They placed it in the oven and set the correct amount of degrees and time. Now all they had to do was wait and finish the rest of the meal.

Violet walked into the kitchen, inhaling the strong scent of half-cooked food. "Mmm, smells great in here." She commented, opening the fridge to grab a water bottle. "So how's slaving away for the others going?"

"We're not 'slaving away', Violet." Remy rolled his eyes. Although now that he said it out loud, it kinda seemed like they were, considering not a single other Pixar was offering to help. Instead they were all hanging out around the house doing who knows what. "Regardless, we're doing just fine."

"You wanna help us?" Atta asked with a mouthful of marshmallows—which earned a scowl from Remy.

Violet sighed, shutting the fridge. "I'd love to, but Joy's taking me out shopping for Christmas presents.

"But stores aren't even open today." WALL-E said.

"That's what I told her." The teen shrugged her shoulders, "But she insisted on taking me and a couple others. I honestly think they're just trying to get out of the house so they have an excuse not to help out."

The three exchanged an annoyed glance. While they expected that sort of behavior from their friends, it was still irritating to know they didn't care enough to even stay home for Thanksgiving. But then again, ditching her friends when they need her didn't sound like something Joy would do.

Before they could question it, they heard Violet's name being called from the other room, signaling her to walk away. "Well, good luck with dinner, guys." She said.

"Okay, have fun today." Atta said to her right before she left. The three then gave each other the same confused expression, all thinking the same thing. But it was a short-lived moment, as they quickly got back to work.

"Alright, making conversation is nice and all, but we can't spend much time having social interactions." Remy reminded them, "From now on, no more distractions, okay? Focus is key."

He turned around, seeing a certain someone once again stuffing three marshmallows in her mouth. "Atta!"

"Leave me alone!" She retorted.

—

Several hours passed since the three started cooking, and they were getting close to being finished. It was hard keeping the kids out of the kitchen to stop them from sneaking bites of the food, since they always did that even when eating at the Disneys' place. But in a display of irony, Remy always shooed them away or chased them out with a broom.

A little after noon the meal was finally ready to be gorged. Everyone had a little bit of everything on their plate and had to pull up a few chairs and small tables so they could all sit together in one spot (one of the tables was actually just an old nightstand). Usually when eating meals, the Pixars would just sit in different areas around the house since the table wasn't big enough for all of them to sit at. But since this was Thanksgiving, they wanted to be together.

"Alright everyone, before we eat, we should go around and say what we're thankful for." Woody said, "And I'll start if that makes it easier."

"It would." They all agreed.

They all joined hands as Woody began, "Well, I'm thankful for all of you. You're not just my friends or people I'm forced to live with, you're my family. Which is kinda the same thing but has better meaning. I'm also thankful for our success, and I'm thankful we're doing this here and not at Disney hell."

A few of them laughed and nodded, although they never thought they'd hear the words "Disney" and "hell" in the same sentence.

"I'll go next." Sulley said, "Let's see, I'm thankful for the food on my plate, and the hard-working people who made it for me."

Remy, Atta, and WALL-E smiled at him.

"And I'm thankful to have the privilege to celebrate this holiday with the people I love."

"Awww!!" They cooed.

Barley leaned towards Sadness to whisper, "Wait, are we supposed to say meaningful shit like that every time?" The girl merely shrugged in response.

Once everyone had a turn saying what they were thankful for, they were finally able to dig in. The turkey was even better than they were used to. The whole meal tasted far better than what they would've received at the Disneys' Thanksgiving. Except the sweet potato casserole appeared to be missing quite a few marshmallows.

"I'm so glad it's Thanksgiving." Joy said, a little out-of-the blue.

"Why's that, Joy?" Bob asked her curiously.

"So I can finally get in the Christmas spirit without people telling me to 'wait until Thanksgiving'." She rolled her eyes.

Out of all of them, Joy was definitely the Christmas fanatic, so much that all other holidays around the end of the year were irrelevant to her. The Pixars didn't mind it, though. They loved Christmas, and they were glad she was always the one to go all out on decorations so they didn't have to.

"Can't argue with that." Jessie said, stuffing a piece of pie in her mouth. "But sadly it's not gonna be the same this year."

"No kidding." Merida scoffed. "If people had just done what they were told back in March, this wouldn't have happened."

McQueen raised a brow, "Dude, we had a whole ass celebration for the Swearing-In in March—"

"That was before quarantine, shut up." She was quick to defend.

"When's quarantine gonna be over?" Dash asked, "I'm tired of staying inside all day."

Mike sighed, as he dreaded this topic every time it came up in conversation. But as the leader, he had to be the voice of reason. "Look guys, I know it's tough, okay? We can't even die from Covid but we're being forced to stay at home, and I know it's frustrating. Heck, there's probably not even gonna be a Swearing-In ceremony for 'Soul'."

"There's not??" Dory asked with a frown.

"If things stay this way, then no." He said, even though it hurt to admit. Swearing-Ins were a big deal for the Pixars. It was what made them apart of the family. "But there's nothing we've been through that we've faced alone, right? We've always had each other, and we always will."

Even though they were still sad about the situation, and even if what he said was a little cheesy, they knew he was right. They were the Pixars for crying out loud, they could handle any challenge as long as they stuck together.

Mike raised his glass, signaling everyone else to do the same. "I propose a toast. To our Pixar family."

"To our family!" They cheered, sipping their drinks afterward.

[mhdiaries]

Haunted – Student Spirits Porter “Paintergeist” Geiss Diary

5/10

I’m in grave trouble again. I was spraying lockers, and the Hall Moan-itors caught me. I thought I had time for the ghost paint to vanish before I got die-tected. I can usually get past Past, and sometimes outsmart Present, but how’s a ghost supposed to stay invisible to Future? That Moan-itor has a knack for predicting what graffiti I’m going to paint - and where - even before I do! I was protesting the detention chains - the Hall Moan-itors and Miss Revenant are so unfair! And now I’m wearing more chains because I protested them. You’ve gotta appreciate the irony. Or should I say, “iron-y”, because that’s more fitting to the weight of my mood now. 

5/11

Ugh. I just mopped floors during my entire study howl period. Never knew how much I’d miss doing foulgebra homework, even under the wraithful gaze of the driver’s deaducation teacher. But mostly I miss sketching in the margins of my textbook. I love drawing my friends, like Vandala sailing the deep boo sea or Kiyomi changing colors to complement one of my graffiti pieces. And it’s nice to just sit and chill, not feel the constant tug of heavy chains tethering me to the ground. Mopping while chained is even more unpleasant than, well, mopping while not chained! Sloshing the water around to the steady rhythm of clanging. I tried to pretend it was a new dance I was making up... even sang a few bars of ch-ch-chain of ghouls! That was fun ‘til the li-bury-an popped her head out and shushed me. But at least I worked off one of my chains. Just several more to go...

5/12

I’ve already earned additional chains. 3x more! I couldn’t resist ghost-spray-painting the howlway where I spent study howl cleaning. I designed an image of a mop wrapped in chains, and the mop was trying to sweep away the 3 Hall Moan-itors. Not to beast, but I thought it was phantastic! When an idea come to me, I have to paint it. It’s instinctive. They don’t call me Paintergesit for nothing! But those 3 Moan-itors have no appreciation for art, and no sense of humor, so they each gave me chains. It bites, but I think receiving triple the chains all at once is a new school record, so at least I have that. Always look on the fright side, ya know? 

5/13

DON’T H8, LEVIT8!

I’M A LEVIT8R NOT A H8R!

Working out some new slogans for my next piece. I was fanging out with River Styxx in the creepateria. For the daughter of the Grim Reaper, she can make light of anything. She’s planning a party for all the students chained to Haunted High, since they can’t get out to her yacht on the river between the Ghost World and the non-Ghost World. She’s thinking everyone can use their chains decoratively. Ya know, like belts or jewelry. Of course, that’ll be easier for those who only have 1 or 2. I have so many, I could use them to tow her yacht to the schoolyard - then we can still hold the party there. Now that’s an ectoplasmic idea! 

5/14

Huebert is being clawsome today! This is why we get along so well - we both enjoy a little harmless mischief-making. The Hall Moan-itors said I could work off a detention chain by picking up its equal weight in garbage in the creepateria. The more I pick up, the more chains come off. Well, Hubert likes garbage as much as any racoon, so after I picked up what was already scattered around, he got inside a full can and tossed trash to me. I caught it and tossed it into an empty can. It was so much fun, and totally worked. The chains fell off me, and I got lighter and lighter! In no time, I was feeling my old floaty self and I could move and catch faster as I zipped around the creepateria. Maybe I should join the casketball team.

5/15

Something scary-cool just happened! I was painting inside my locker - even the Hall Moan-itors can’t be too fangry about that - and I glanced in the mirror on the back of the door. I’m fearly sure I saw a dude wearing sunglasses bouncing a casketball down the hall behind me! I turned around, but there was no one there! The eerie thing is that he wasn’t transparent at all. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was... solid!?!

5/15 Cont. 

I’ve been thinking about solids. Most of us in the Ghost World have never seen a solid, because haunting is forbidden. And we’re always told that they are monsters who want to destroy all ghosts and our way of un-life. But I’ve heard gore-ies about ghosts living in the solid world, so how can it be true that solids and ghosts can’t get along? It’s weird that I’ve never questioned it before, because I pride myself on being a free-spirit. I’ll have to think about this more. But first, I have an idea for a ghost-painting that will look spooktacular in the clawditorium...

5/16

When attempting mad séance experiments, never expect the same results twice. I tried to recreate that phenomenon at my locker yesterday. When no one was around, I painted the inside of my locker again. This time when I looked in the mirror, I only saw my own reflection. But out of the corner of my eye I die-tected... pink. Lots of pink! I’m an artist, so I happen to love pink. All colors, really. The world would be a deadful place if I had to give up any of them. Still, less is sometimes more. But as I was blinking into the locker, trying to make sense of what I was seeing, I realized that something else was blinking back! I concentrated until I made it out, and, boo, was it a shriek! It was a bat dressed in a poofy, pinktastic skirt! Not sure if he saw me, but just before he vanished, I noticed his cheeks turned as pink as the bow on his head. Can bats blush?

5/17

I watched Kiyomi Haunterly in the creepateria today. As an artist, I try to be observant of everyone and everything around me, because you never know where inspiration will come from. When I saw her, it struck me that she held her head higher than usual, and she floated around the room like a social battyfly. She’s always been a friendly ghoul, just kind of shy, and since she is a faceless ghost, she has a more difficult time than most making eye contact. I was impressed by her newfound aura. She even dressed more stylish than she used to. An eye catching outfit can be as creative as good graffiti, ya know? Her overall look today screams confidence. That gives me an idea for a painting. I think the wall behind the condismemberments bar will be perfect. I hope the Hall Moan-itors are in the teacher’s lounge...

5/18

My freedom from chains didn’t last long, but my painting in the creepateria was totally worth it! Now I’m just haunting the li-bury, which is kind of boo-ring, but at least I can browse the inter-die-mensional internet. I came across an interesting blog by a ghost ghoul named Spectra Vondergeist. It’s mostly paranormal teen drama: who is seeing who, who has a crush on who, who broke up with who, etc. It’s beast-zarre that I don’t know any of the students she’s written about. The ghouls are going to meet me here later - I’ll ask if they know them. We’re going to have a makeshift scare-venger hunt. We were going to have on on the Salty Spectre, but I can’t leave the grounds again. At least this way Vandala can’t get seasick!

5/19

Went to do a little touch up on my mural in the creepateria. And by touch-up I mean re-do, since the ghost paint from yesterday evaporated, well, yesterday. I was really getting into the grave, splashing and spraying the wall with precision... but then the Hall Moan-itors caught me before I could add the finishing touches. I can’t remember the last time I got to sign my work! But as I was trying to dodge them - who knew the creepateria was such an orbstacle course!?! - a ghoul manifested right in front of me, and I ended up crashing into her! So now, thanks to her, I’m weighed down with more chains. But... she was kind of cute! I hope that’s not the last time she appears around here...

[missn11]

For all your OC pairings, what's an absent, small gesture the OC does that makes the VTMB character's heart just fill with fondness and love? Alternatively, what was the moment that the VTMB character(s) realized they loved your OC? I'm daydreaming again, haha. Thanks and have a great day! :D

@badass-at-cuddling ohhhh my gosh!!! yes, thank you for this ask, I love talking about my OC/VTMB characters pairings! :D

Barbara/Nines

Nines’ heart almost seems to come alive again whenever Barbara gazes lovingly in his eyes as she strokes his cheek. It never fails to fill him with fondness and love for her. Sadly looking back he now views those little moments with horror...

NInes realised that he fell in love with Barbara when she came back to the Last Round after killing Bishop Vick all bloodied and injured, and he was so worried that she was going to fall in torpor, that he personally took care of her. Nines was so inspired and taken by her supposed willingness to fight for the vulnerable people who were dying because of the plague bears, that he had no chance but to fall in love.

Taika/LaCroix

Taika having LaCroix rest his head against her while she pours him a glass of blood, reminds him of how much he loves her. Truly she always manages to make him feel safe.

When she said his last name correctly And Taika making him feel safe is what made LaCroix realised that he loved her and wanted her always by his side and that moment came when she killed some Anarch rebel wannabe that thought he could take on the Prince of LA all by himself. While LaCroix wasn’t in any real danger, the fact that Taika destroyed this idiot with her blood magic without a second thought had touched him in so many ways, all his wall crumbled all at once as the Anarch blew up in bloody chunks! XD

  Tuba/Ming Xiao

Ming Xiao feels an incredible amount of warm fondness and love towards Tuba whenever she brings her delicious sweet treats or a book that she had her eye, especially if it’s a super rare book where there are only less than a hundred copies that have survived. Of course, Tuba got Ming Xiao a copy of the Book of Nod!

Ming Xiao first admitted that she loved Tuba was that she really truly and full-heartedly believed in her and her vision for Los Angeles and would fight all their enemies to her final death and that she would do the exact same for Tuba. That for the first time in centuries she would willingly face Yomi and back for another again! Godamn it, I’m crying now!  

Ayo/Damsel

Damsel won’t admit it but she feels all gooey whenever Ayo comes up from behind to hug her and hum gently the latest pop tune in her ear, it takes her to a place where it’s just the two of them.

Damsel first realised that she loved Ayo was the moment that she told Damsel that she didn’t have to shape her whole life around NInes and his cause. It stuck in her more than it had when Nines had told her pretty much the same thing, maybe cause she had brushed it off as him being all noble. (He’s a good boy in this verse, like in all my OC verses except maybe in Taika’s but that’s cause I love the irony of Damsel leaving one cult to unintentionally join another one!) And yet Ayo saying the same thing made her realise that it was because she cared about her and her wellbeing and saw there was more to her than all the passionate anger she often showed to everyone. Oh no, I’m crying again!

Gloria/Nines

Nines always feels so loved whenever Gloria bathes him, her fingers massaging his scalp makes him feel so special and takes him away from all the pressure of being the leader of the Downtown Anarchs. He won’t admit it but he loves it when she takes care of him like this, the feeling his fondness and love towards are heightened even more so after they have a BDSM session together. ;)

Nines realised that he loved Gloria when she told him that he is beautiful and people think he is so brave for submitting to her during their third BDSM sex session together that included an imagined crowd where he was imagining that the crowd were disgusted that he was submitting to a Ventrue’s dominance. (yay for having to deal with self-hatred, guilt for enjoying being submissive to a Ventrue cause BRUJAH are not allowed to ever want to be SUBS especially not for VENTRUES bullshit and his abandon issues all the time for Nines sucks!) The fact she showed so much care about his self-worth and his mental well being, made him realise that this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his unlife with. :3

Gloria/Velvet Velour

Velvet loves it when Gloria pulls her into her arms and kisses her on her neck or on the top of her shoulder. It’s just such a simple gesture but it never fails to send VV’s heart aflutter.

Velvet realised she was in love with Gloria when the Ventrue was so positive and encouraging about her poems, she never really had that before from anyone aside from Isaac and she had feared that he only liked them cause she was his adoptive childe but to hear from someone who appreciated her for more than the vixen persona she had presented herself to Kindred society had meant so much.   

Gloria/LaCroix

This is basically the AU verse where LaCroix decides that being Gloria’s 24/7 sub is a better life choice for him than opening the sarcophagus! (okay it’s not quite that simple but you know, I gotta work on that AU first) XD

Whenever Gloria tells LaCroix that he is a good boy or he makes the Ventrue clan proud wherever they are doing their BDSM sessions or just life in general always fills LaCroix with so much fondness and love for her. (Gloria and Jan are the only Ventrue in the world who understand that all Ventrue have a praise kink, yo)

LaCroix realised that he was in love with Gloria was the realisation that she had been willing to risk so much for him to have him by her side. It touched him in so many ways that he felt unworthy of her and wants to improve himself so he could be half as worthy of her as she thinks he is. 

Phew, that was a long one! XD Thanks again to @badass-at-cuddling for the ask, I got some feels at points, I just love these fools so much! :3

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Andy Warhol Arguments

PART TWENTY-NINE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: vomiting, periods, mentions of parent death, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.9K

Summary: Ella feels the stress of her new life in Philadelphia.

Rubbing at his eyes, Jess shut the alarm clock off and furrowed his brows when he saw Ella wasn’t next to him. Her side of the bed was cold and didn’t look nearly as disheveled. But the anxiety at her absence quickly subsided as he walked out into the living room. With papers strewn around on the coffee table in front of her, Ella had spread out on the couch with no blanket, despite the Autumn chill in the air. She was still in her dress from the day before, and it was twisted around her form, riding up her thighs. Mascara was smudged around her eyes. Jess smirked, then went over and began shaking her shoulder gently. The light was soft through the gray curtains, and the sky was overcast. Even still, she squinted as she stirred awake, confused at her location.

“Elle? Wake up,” Jess said, coaxing her out of her groggy state. “Jeez, how late did you stay up?”

She sighed, sitting up and gathering herself. “I don’t know. I was grading essays for at least a couple more hours after you went to bed. But I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I was just gonna rest for a little while. Obviously, that was naive of me.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her cheek before going to put on the tea and coffee in the kitchen.

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching her arms high over her head as she stood up, her skirt falling around her knees again. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to wake herself up and shake off the throb pulsing behind her eyes.

“Seven,” Jess replied, filling the coffee pot up with water.

Ella nodded, relieved. Her first class wasn’t until nine. At least she would have time to shower off her makeup from the day before, and brush her teeth. The taste in her mouth made her grimace; she couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep without brushing her teeth. It was almost time for midterms at school, and the students in the art history class she was a teacher’s assistant for had just turned in their first major essays. Overall, they were pretty decent. But, she was also never one to shy away from the red pen. Shuffling the stacks of paper on the table into neat rectangles, she stifled a yawn.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said, coming to lean against the island. “I’d probably scare the undergrads if I showed up like this. Thanks for waking me. I would’ve slept forever if I could.”

“I know.” Jess turned on the tea kettle and faced her. “You gotta take it a little easier. I think that vein in your forehead is bound to pop, the way things are going.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Mariano. The concern is appreciated but not necessary.”

“You’ve slept a total of, like, seven hours in the past three days,” he argued.

“Hypocrite,” she scoffed, making for their bedroom again to get fresh clothes.

“Nihilist,” Jess retorted, calling after her. He would’ve worried about the volume of his voice so early in the morning, but he could already hear Matthew and Chris talking through the walls.

Ella chuckled breathily, half-heartedly. “I’m not the one who hung Nietzche above our bed.”

.   .   .

Despite Ella’s time at Luke’s, she had never mastered making breakfast. Or cooking in general. Baking came natural and easy, her pies a hit at every single holiday and gathering she brought them to. But she burned the toast, didn’t fry the bacon long enough, couldn’t get the pancakes just right. Jess, however, had somehow picked up cooking skills between sighs and snide remarks. He and Chris took turns making breakfast sometimes, when everyone didn’t just resort to cereal. It was common knowledge in the apartment, though, that both Ella and Matthew were best away from the kitchen in the morning hours.

As Ella reemerged from the bedroom, her hair damp and braided, her simple black dress loose and comfortable, the smell of the scrambled eggs Jess was making hit her in the face. Pepper and butter and orange juice mixed in, Chris on the couch flipping through the news channels on the TV sat opposite, Matthew at the counter talking with Jess. With everyone up so early, it made sense Jess would make something. She wondered sometimes if it was nostalgia which drove him, serving them food as Luke did his customers. And, of course, he lived above the business he owned just like his uncle. Ella had pointed out the irony to him more than once. After all, Ella knew just how much Jess looked up to Luke, even if he would never admit it in so many words.

Her stomach did a flip instead of growling as it usually would have, as the ache in her head pounded with the beat of her heart. It made her want to sigh audibly, but she bit it back. The only silver lining of the morning had been not bleeding through her dress and onto the couch, her period having shown up at some point in the night. Cramps were already twisting her insides, nauseating her.

“Did you hear what Bush did last night?” Chris asked, head perking up when he saw her enter the room. He held a coffee in one hand, the liquid pale from copious amounts of milk and sugar.

“Please don’t tell me,” she said tiredly, hopping onto a stool next to Matthew. “I can’t handle his idiocy this morning.”

“I’ll spare you, then.”

“Thank you so much.”

Matthew chuckled breathily at them, sipping from his own mug. He was clean-shaven again, having stayed at the apartment for the first time in several days. Still, they did not know the name of the mysterious girlfriend.

“He’s never that nice to me,” Matthew said, his words a joking sigh.

Ella shrugged. “He owes me for covering his ass when he pissed off that spoken word lady last week.”

“Not my fault,” Chris chimed in from the couch, defensive.

“Right, so when you told her she wasn’t as important as the other woman, that wasn’t your fault? Someone else said that?” Ella prodded, eyebrows raised skeptically.

Chris sighed heavily. “I didn’t say that. She just heard me wrong.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Ella chided.

Scoffing, Chris turned his eyes back to the TV and said nothing more. Ella snorted at his petulance, facing ahead where Jess stood over the stove. With a spatula in one hand and the handle of a frying pan in the other, she was reminded again of their days at the diner. Of a lonely morning when Luke had an appointment and Ella had gotten into a fight with her father. It was the first time Jess had made her breakfast. A wistful look crossed her face, and she was lost in thought when Jess put her tea down in a mug in front of her.

“Earth to Eleanor,” he said, waving a hand in front of her face. “What, thinking about Emily Dickinson again?”

“Close, but no,” she replied, blinking herself out of her daze and taking the mug with both hands. She blew steam from the top and shot him a small smile. “Thanks, cutie.”

Rolling his eyes, Jess went back to the stove with a flushed face. He didn’t have to look back over to know she had a teasing grin on her lips. Since their ride to California, she’d been poking at him with the nickname. He thought she would let it go, but then he remembered who he was dealing with. And though he wouldn’t admit it, as he blushed, it was growing on him just a touch. Besides, he knew it was due retaliation for ‘honey,’ which he still used on a daily basis.

“You want toast with these eggs?” he asked, hoping his face would cool down sometime soon.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ella shook her hand. “No thanks, actually, I’m good without either. Just tea is fine.”

Jess’s brows furrowed immediately and he looked up from his work, tilting his head at her. “Really? You sure?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not hungry.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Getting a good look at her, he thought she was paler than normal, though it could have just been his imagination. Lack of sleep probably wasn’t helping her pallor, anyway.

“You might be hungry later.”

“Well, I’ll come back here for lunch. Four hours isn’t so long,” she said, her tone light against his puzzled gaze.

“Okay, Stevens,” he said suspiciously, but then let the subject drop. It was strange for her to skip breakfast, sure. But it was also strange for her to stay up half the night grading papers; perhaps she was just having an off day.

Her eyes lingered on his a little longer, but she kept her emotions masked beneath a complacent smile. Eventually, Jess focused back on the eggs which he was apparently making for himself. Matthew had a plate in front of him, and Chris had already scarfed his down.

“Oh my god, guys,” Chris piped up from the couch again.

Ella suppressed a groan; he updated them on various happenings from the news every single morning. The information was rarely relevant to anything.

“What?” Jess asked flatly, putting the eggs on his own plate and setting them down across the counter from Ella. He leaned against the tiled surface as he ate.

“There’s like three people in Berkeley with mad cow disease,” Chris answered, a shocked look on his face. Ella had no idea how he kept up so much energy, and could be so consistently amazed at the world around him. It was a little exhausting, but endearing nonetheless.  

She scoffed. “Good thing I couldn’t afford it, then.”

Jess nodded knowingly as he chewed.

“What?” Matthew asked.

“Oh,” Ella said casually, taking another sip of the tea. She wished it was green, but Jess would almost certainly have more questions for her, about whether she was getting a migraine, if she drank that. Already, she could see him trying to get her to stay home. And she simply couldn’t flake so close to mid-terms. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to go to Berkeley. Maybe because it was the farthest place I could think of. But I’d never been there. And after finally making it to California, I’d say it’s a good thing the tuition was too insane for me to handle.”

A bark of a laugh came from Chris. “Yeah, you’re too pretentious for anything but the East coast.”

“I am not,” she retorted, not even turning around to face him again. “Maybe I’m just too much of a realist for that hippie bullshit.”

“More like a stick-up-your-ass killjoy, but sure, I guess realist is another way to put it,” Chris said, with self-satisfied lilt in his tone.

“Fuck off,” she shot back lazily. Both Jess and Matthew watched on in amusement, as they had grown accustomed to doing, while she continued. “You’re just pissed you’re not deep enough to understand true art. All you can wrap your brain around is ABBA and Andy Warhol.”

“Andy Warhol was an American treasure!”

Ella finally turned around to see Chris shooting daggers at her. “Andy Warhol was a sellout! I have a whole book about him; you can borrow it!”

“Oh, well, if a book says so,” Chris mocked, feigning belief.

She laughed. “It’s too early and there’s just not enough time for me to explain to you how wrong you are. I gotta get to class. Professor Stanton wants me to go over her presentation with her before.”

Getting down off the stool, she rushed behind the counter and gave Jess a long kiss goodbye. Her feet felt heavy in her black oxfords as she went over to the door, donning her peacoat from the rusty rack and grabbing her bag.

“See you for lunch at noon?” she asked, throwing one last look at Jess.

He nodded, gave her a reassuring smile. She seemed frazzled and uneasy. “I’ll be here, Daria.”

“Just checking, James Dean.”

“Bye, Ella,” Matthew said.

Ella gave him a little wave and rolled her eyes when Chris was silent from the couch, pouting over her slight to his god, Andy Warhol. “Fuck you very much, Chris.”

He yelled an cheerful obscenity back to her as she raced out the door, the old bronze clock down in the main room of Truncheon chiming half past eight.

.   .   .

By lunch, her headache had progressed to a full-on migraine, but she still had one more class and office hours to attend to, so she was pressing on. The day was chilly, a faint drizzle misting her as she trudged up the sidewalk back to Truncheon. She made a note to herself to grab an umbrella before leaving again; at least it hadn’t started pouring on her walk. Her old shoulder bag was dragging on her tired frame, packed to the brim with books and papers. The green fabric was faded to almost gray, as she had been lugging the bag around since high school. But it had yet to rip or fray, and she’d added a few patches to the front at some point during college. What wasn’t broken, she didn’t intend trying to fix. Why waste the time?

She was glad to be met with the familiar smell of old books as she reentered the small publishing company. Matthew was reorganizing shelves to his preference, silent and analytical. Hanging her bag and coat on the hook by the door, she ran her hands up and down over her own arms in an attempt to warm up. The tights she wore were thin and cheap. Chris was nowhere to be seen, which Ella was almost grateful for. As much as she enjoyed the two guys, Jess was the only one she wanted in the moment. And though what she really wanted was to lean her head on his shoulder and fall asleep, an hour for lunch up in the apartment, as they had every day, would have to do.

Sluggish as she ascended the stairs, Ella felt a gnawing hunger in her stomach, but was nervous to eat. With the cramps ripping up her insides, she knew whatever she downed might just come back up. Jess was already upstairs, reading at the counter, when she opened the door to the apartment, and he looked up with a tiny smirk as she walked in.

“Hey, Daria,” he said, marking the place in his book and tossing it aside.

She shot him a weak smile of greeting and made for the fridge, scanning the various homemade leftovers and takeout boxes. Jess came up behind her, peering in over her shoulder. At his closeness and his aroma of pine, she breathed a sigh of relief and stopped what she was doing. Just having him near made her feel better instantly, knowing she would come home to him at the end of the day.  A mixture of emotions welled inside her, rising up in her throat. Shutting the fridge door and spinning around to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and enveloped him in an embrace. His arms twined around her waist instinctively, but he let out a surprised chuckle.

“Hey.” Her voice was muffled against his shirt and when she pulled away, Jess thought he saw a fond sorrow in her eyes. She pressed a kiss to his lips.

He tilted his head at her when their lips were separated again. “What was that for?”

Ella shrugged. “No reason.”

Soon, they sat next to each other at the island with a container of cold lo mein split on two plates in front of them. Breaking the comfortable silence, Jess set his fork down and turned to her, a hesitant look on his face. He had held off telling her as long as he could stand; he could rant about it forever, but still didn’t want to say a word.

“Liz called me earlier,” he began, watching her glance up from her plate, where she pushed her food around, noncommittal.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um...she’s pregnant.” Jess ran a hand over his mouth and sighed lightly.

Her eyes perked up in surprise. “What?”

“Unfortunately, it seems TJ’s incompetence in everything else didn’t extend to his reproductive skills.”

She snorted a half-hearted laugh and trained her eyes on him carefully. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, chatty Kathy,” she said, taking a sip of her water and then facing him fully. “But, how do you feel about it?”

“Honestly, Elle?” he asked, his tone dejected. He didn’t quite meet her gaze. “I don’t know. Jimmy’s got a stepdaughter. Now, Liz is gonna have a new kid. It’s...I don’t know. I just hope she doesn’t binge-drink quite as much as she did with me.”

Ella furrowed her brows.

“I was five weeks early and I weighed something like four pounds. She says she doesn’t remember most of being pregnant,” Jess explained, a bitter tinge to his words.

“Jesus Christ,” Ella muttered, shaking her head slightly, not in disbelief but in simple sadness for him.

Jess shrugged dismissively. “But, hey, now she’s gonna get a second try. I’m sure the next one won’t be as much trouble as I was.”

“Hey,” she said firmly, bringing a cold hand to his cheek, stroking his skin affectionately with her thumb, “it was her fucking fault.”

“I know,” he said quietly, suddenly struck by her blunt tenderness. It filled him up, but made his insides flutter. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Alright,” she whispered, waiting a moment longer before she dropped her hand back from his face. “But if you do-”

“I know,” he repeated, light to disguise the pit in his stomach.

“Good.”

.   .   .

Bowie played softly on the record player and Ella sat up against the wall behind the bed. She was still in her black cotton dress, though she had let her hair down from its braid, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind her temples. A dull ache was constant in her lower stomach, occasionally tightening to a sharp burst of pain. Her breath was slow and steady, as she hoped to relax her muscles. She wrote against the thick stack of paper in her lap, only a few essays left. Maybe she could actually get a chance to sleep a sensible amount. She’d been at it since the moment she got upstairs at three in the afternoon, and her eyes were dry and hot in her skull. Rain pattered against the window on her left, the pane fogged up from the cold day.

A creak sounded in the room as the door opened, and she peeked down at her watch. It was nearly six; she hadn’t realized how much time she’d spent sitting in the same position, staring at the endless pages of Times New Roman. Jess walked in with socked feet, a crease of concern between his brows as he strode over to the bed.

“Hey, you almost done?” he asked, sitting down on the end and running his hand up and down the back of her calf.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she finished scribbling a comment on the side of a page. Then, she looked up at him with an exhausted, pale face. “Sort of. I’ve still got a few to go.”

“Why don’t you take a break?” Jess asked. When their work day had ended at five-thirty, he’d come up to find her pouring over the assignments. It was clear she was concentrating hard, and he’d silently come over and placed a kiss on her forehead in greeting before leaving her to her work. The worry had not left him in the hour he’d been sitting on the couch with a Barker novel in his hands and an old sitcom on the TV. “We ordered pizza. Half mushroom.”

A smile formed on her lips, less strained than it had looked all day. Mushroom was her favorite on pizza. “Maybe in a little while. I don’t finish what I need to, and they could definitely replace me with another TA.”

Jess scoffed in disbelief at her unfounded fear. “Where else are they gonna find a Lily Briscoe nihilist who dresses like it’s 1994?”

“Same place they’d find another Kerouac wannabe who knows close-up magic tricks,” she quipped coolly, going back to her work. Her patience was wearing. No matter how much her mind was screaming for a reprieve, she simply needed to finish. Some strong fire burned within her, forcing her to be productive or suffer intense guilt.

He gasped in mock offense. “Low blow, Stevens. The magic phase was not my best, I will admit. But, it was really only to impress a certain waitress.”

“Well, when you talk to her, tell her I think she should raise her standards,” Ella replied, not looking up from the paper.

Jess sighed in frustration, taking his hand from her leg. When she got into her working zone, one he recognized well from high school, it certainly took some effort to get her out. But rarely was she quite so irritated. “You’ve barely eaten anything all day, Eleanor.”

“Didn’t realize I was under surveillance, Jess.”

Rising from the bed again, Jess rolled his eyes. “The pizza’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes. You don’t come out, and I’ll tell Chris how much you hate jazz. You’ll have to face his wrath.”

“I think I can handle him,” Ella said flatly. Still, she didn’t lift her eyes from the writing.

“You’ve been warned,” Jess chagrined, shutting the door behind him gently.

.   .   .

The growling of her stomach ultimately forced her out of the bed, the stack of papers left on the nightstand with the red pen neatly atop it. She decided she didn’t need anymore arguing with Chris for the day. And the hungrier she got, the worse her headache was. Searing pain radiated all the way through her brain, but she tried to quiet it the best she could. She hadn’t experienced a migraine in a long while, but remembered how to power through it. It was better to at least attempt to eat, she decided. She hated the odd dichotomy of the nauseating cramps and the intense hunger.

A smug smirk formed on Jess’s face when she opened the door, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

“Oh, look. Judas,” Chris said from his spot in the armchair, still offended from the morning’s Andry Warhol argument.

“Not my fault you can’t handle the truth,” she replied, going over to the fridge and grabbing a ginger ale. She didn’t know whether the ginger ale soothing stomach trick worked with period cramps, but it was worth a shot. She popped it open and took a few sips before placing it on the end table near the windows and flopping down on the weathered green couch next to Jess.

“Your stomach okay?” he asked, an eyebrow raised at her choice of drink.

She shrugged dismissively, her face wan. “I’m fine, Mariano.”

“You sure you’re not pregnant?” Chris teased, glancing at Jess. “Apparently it’s in the water.”

Jess swallowed dryly at the reference to his mother’s news. Both Matthew and Chris had overheard snippets of the phone conversation.

“Believe me, I’m not,” Ella answered, running her hand through her hair and sweeping it over one shoulder. The back of her neck was hot beneath it.

“But how could you know?” Chris continued, a mocking twinkle in his blue eyes.

As she shot him a withering stare, Ella’s lips turned up in a thin, sardonic smile. Her tone was cold and venomous. “One guess. I’m sure it’ll come to you, Einstein.”

After a moment with furrowed brows, realization crossed his features and his eyes widened. Chris blushed and said nothing more. Jess snickered at him and brought an arm around Ella, unphased.

Goosebumps rose on her skin at his touch, as she leaned her head on his shoulder. A slight sigh escaped her lips as she allowed herself to slacken against him, seeing the Frasier rerun playing on the grainy television across from them. Matthew sat on Jess’s other side, working on something which looked like an inventory sheet. She could certainly identify with his workaholic side. He leaned over and told her the pizza would be there any minute. Nodding, she put a hand on her anxious stomach and shut her eyes. She hadn’t felt the fatigue weighing her down fully until she gave into it, suddenly worried she could fall asleep at any moment.

Jess looked down at her, a crease of concern reappearing between his brows. Frowning, he took in her flushed face and placed his hand to her forehead. Though he couldn’t be sure, he thought she seemed feverish. “You feel warm.”

“The heat’s on. Our room is stuffy. I’ve been in there a few hours. Really, cutie, I’m just tired,” she said shortly, not opening her eyes and shifting to get more comfortable. His skin was cool against hers. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she was running a slight temperature. Sleep deprivation and her period both sometimes caused a tiny fever for her separately; it would be less than a shock if together they’d had a bit of an effect.

His eyes lingered on her doubtfully, but a knock then sounded on the door. Jess dug in his pocket with a free hand to find a few crumpled bills, handing them to Matthew, who went to greet the pizza guy. In a few minutes, they were back in their respective spots with grease-splotched paper towels, holding cheap pizza. Matthew and Chris were deep in a debate about the acts to book for the following week, and were throwing around the idea of an open mic night. Jess didn’t have much to say on the matter, instead watching as Ella ventured a few bites of her slice and kept her eyes on the TV, trying to ignore his watchful gaze. Not even Luke had ever been so concerned over her well-being, insofar as whether she had something she could potentially spread to customers. Only her mother stuck out as a caregiver in her life, and of course, no time in recent memory. It was just Jess.

“You’re staring, Romeo,” she snapped after a while, realizing he wasn’t going to quit.

“Thought I was a Mercutio?” he asked through a mouthful of pizza.

Scoffing, annoyed, Ella felt the mixture of both hunger and discomfort mingling in her stomach again. “Not tonight. Remember how much Romeo stared?”

“It rings a bell. But I also haven’t read that since ninth grade English.”

“You did reading for school?” she asked doubtfully, snorting a laugh.

He nodded. “I had gold stars plastered all over my forehead.”

“Oh, yeah, I can just picture it,” she said, taking another bite, almost finished with her piece. “Romeo and Juliet sucks anyway.”

“Once again,” he said, shaking his head at her in feigned disappointment, “so blasphemous.”

“And still, you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

He shrugged. “Sad but true.”

She chuckled, about to retort in the easy way she always could, but instead there was a shift in her features. Her freckled cheeks drained completely and tinged to a slight green. Saying nothing, she put the back of a hand to her mouth and she hopped up, rushing towards the bathroom. Not running, but definitely rushing. Her movements were silent but swift as she shut the door behind her with a slam. Chris and Matthew didn’t even notice until the sound rang out in the apartment. Jess sighed heavily, going after her. Pressed up against the door, he could hear her gagging.

“Eleanor?” he asked, knocking.

Knees grounded on the blue tile of the bathroom floor, Ella found she couldn’t reply through her breathless retching, bent over the toilet bowl. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and her nose began to run.

“I’m coming in,” Jess said resolutely.

Ella would’ve cursed at herself if she’d been able, realizing she had forgotten to lock the door in her race to make it to the toilet. Before she could protest, Jess took her hair in one hand and began rubbing circles on her back with the other. His touch was deliberate and gentle, and almost made her want to cry harder than she already was, her entire body radiating embarrassment.

“Fuck, Jess, get out,” she pleaded through bouts of vomiting. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that, Linda Blair,” he deadpanned, not moving from his spot.

Eventually, the swirling in her stomach stopped, and her breathing became regular again. She flushed and immediately went to the sink to splash cold water on her face, rinsing her mouth out and brushing her teeth thoroughly. Jess watched carefully from where he sat on the edge of the blue tub. She wiped her face with the hand towel and threw it back down next to the sink in frustration. Her body was strained and tired, and she sat down heavily next to him when she was finished. She brought her elbows to her knees, holding her chin in her hands.

“You okay?” Jess asked, tucking some hair behind her ear to expose her cheek. He pressed the back of his hand against it, noting how hot she still was. The puking probably hadn’t helped, though.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry over,” he replied lightly. “I mean I’m sorry for getting on you about not eating. I just thought you were working through meals like you used to in high school. I didn’t know you felt sick.”

“I’m not sick, Jess.”

“Eleanor, you were just puking your guts out like two minutes ago,” he said, eyebrows raised. “And I’m pretty sure you have a fever.”

Ella sighed, sniffling though the tears had stopped involuntarily streaming down her cheeks. “When I was a kid, I used to run a temperature when I didn’t sleep enough. And the whole Exorcist routine is because of my period.”

“Really? Usually, you seem like you feel okay when you’re on your period.”

She chuckled. Most of the time, they had sex every night when she was on her period. The hormones were often a pleasant experience in her case. Such bad cramps hadn’t afflicted her since before she’d started the pill at age fifteen, either. “I usually hardly even have cramps. But I got on new birth control this month and stress can also make things way worse. Sleep deprivation, too. I don’t know. The perfect storm.”

His face softened sympathetically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re insane.”

“Oh, well how could I possibly take that the wrong way?” she quipped through slight laughter.

“You’re working so hard, you’re literally making yourself sick,” he explained. “Not that you’re gonna listen to me, but I really think you should ease up if you don’t wanna have a stroke before you’re thirty.”

Again, she sighed, straightening up and averting her gaze. “I just...if I’m working as hard as I can, I’m not worrying as much about losing my spot in the graduate program.”

“Why would you lose your spot?” he asked, his brow crinkling. Maybe he shouldn’t have laughed her off so easily before.

“I don’t know. I just worry about it. Anything’s possible,” she said.

And he could see her mind was off somewhere other than Philadelphia. It was back in Stars Hollow, on the night when her mother had died and she’d lost everything out of the blue. Pieces fell into place, and all of a sudden he understood. Why she had been staying up late and editing papers more heavily than she needed to and running herself ragged only halfway through the semester. To Eleanor, nothing was permanent, nothing could be counted on. The feeling wasn’t lost on him, considering he had a new fake daddy pretty much every year as a child, but he hadn’t even seen a semblance of stability in his life until moving to Luke’s. He remembered how different it was not having to worry about losing the apartment for unpaid rent or having all of his possessions stolen by some deadbeat his mother had inexplicably allowed into their lives. But Ella had lived in a home that had a least a decent amount of security for fourteen years before the rug was pulled out from under her. That was the difference, and it was an important one.

“Elle?”

“Hm?” She lifted her eyes, slightly glassy, up to his.

“No matter what happens with this grad school thing, or after, anything is not possible with me,” he said in earnest. “Because I was yours the first time I saw you five years ago. At this point, I can say with complete certainty that’s never gonna change.”

Breathing out a long breath through her nose, Ella couldn’t help the smile which bloomed on her face. Before, he’d said he fell in love with her that night in the gazebo. Maybe he had been holding back so he wouldn’t scare her, though the time he’d asked her to run away with him and told her he loved her hadn’t exactly been his most restrained moment. She didn’t know. And, the idea that it had actually been the minute when they’d met all those years ago in the diner was so preposterous in her realist mind, she had to tease him at least a little. “Love at first sight, huh? Time has really made you soft, Mariano. The Hemingway, too.”

“I’m serious, Stevens,” he continued, though a smirk tugged at his own lips. “And, for the record, there’s no way in hell they’re gonna kick you out of that program. They’re lucky you even accepted their offer. Please, just take a fucking sick day tomorrow. Watch Stephen King, and drink green tea, and eat peanut butter out of the jar.”

A moment passed between them, and finally she gave a slow nod. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely. And because this is the most disgusting I’ve felt since that time I drank my dad’s tequila.”

He chuckled, bringing an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Good. By tomorrow night, you’ll feel like one of the living again.”

Leaning into his side again, she was so utterly relieved. A weight she didn’t know she had been carrying lifted from within her. The nerves and the worry weren’t gone, but for the first time, perhaps ever, she truly believed Jess. She trusted him so completely it shocked her. They weren’t the same people they had been when he’d run away to California. But they still fit together exactly right. And it wasn’t going to change. She pulled away from him, placing a hand on the back of his neck and running her fingers through the ends of his hair affectionately.

“I love you.”

For a moment, Jess’s breath caught in his throat and he thought his heart would explode from joy. But, instead, his grin grew more genuine. “That’s nice, but I kinda figured.”

She rolled her eyes, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “Such a jackass.”

“So I’ve heard,” he replied easily, then took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I love you too.”

[kaorei-endgame]

hmmm.... if you didn’t know.... the only thing i do now is write about catboys :)

“The restaurant still had cds, dozens and dozens of them in this dusty pile by the register. No aux cable as far as the eye could see.” Nico flinched. “Can you not, with your bare feet?”

Anzu kicked defiantly, digging in against the couch cushions with their back to continue their chilly assault. “So it was cool?” They asked, from around their gameboy screen. “You’re telling me she took you to a cool place.”

Nico's ears drooped. “Mostly it was a bunch of weird zither tunes. And the food was like…”

“Bad?”

“Challenging.” Nico slumped deeper into the couch. “Don’t get me wrong I appreciate when she takes initiative… it’s just… kind of disappointing for our…y’know…”

Anzu’s ears crossed, they perked up. “Go on, say it.”

“Familiar Anniver—”

“Familiarversary!” Anzu chorused, hands waving, arms high.

A throw pillow careened past Anzu’s head. “No.”

Anzu giggled back. “If she’s so bad at feeling your vibe or whatever you can break up you know. It’s not 50 years ago you don’t have to be”—shuffling the gameboy to one hand for scare quotes—“bonded,” or whatever, Grandma.”

“Dude I’m nine months older than you.”

“That’s besides the point.” Anzu wafted the gameboy emphatically with both hands. “I asked Oers’s friend, who is a medium. And she said breaking that stuff up—poof—” Nico winced, tracking the precarious wobble of the gameboy as Anzu’s arms went wide in elaboration. “Simple as…” The gameboy shot up into the air and Anzu threw out a lightning quick pair of finger-guns at the now-paralyzed-by-oncoming-electronic-grief Nico. “Pah-pah! ….Goin’ to the courthouse.“—The gameboy fell!

…with a whumpf, onto the couch cushions between Anzu’s legs.

Anzu grinned. “Anyway, it’s like thirty bucks. You don’t have thirty bucks?”

“I got thirty.” Nico slumped back onto the couch, tabbed around with the remote to try and find the Spacecraft tournament they’d originally intended to watch, though Anzu kept calling it the Spacewars tournament without a hint of irony, which did cause Nico to suspect Anzu’s commitment to the sport. “It’s the lingering twelve hundred from my EOOL violation that’s gonna kill me.”

“Oooh, ghost stuff!”

Nico squinted. “What the hell do you know about Exorcism law?”

“Enough to know somebody’s been”—Anzu’s eyebrows waggled— “Exorcising. Out. Of. License.”

Nico huffed. “Which of those cop shows you like did an episode about ghosts?”

“Oers’s internet has been pretty”—Anzu wiggled a hand in the air and clicked their tongue a few times—“since that flood a while back? So that friend of hers has a whole office with a bunch of law books, that kind of thing, and since I’m always hanging around with nothing to do while they’re—”

Nico’s Anzu-sense pinged. “Anzu….. are you sure this friend…. Isn’t her wife?”

“Huh?” Anzu went blank faced, ears tilting from left to right and back again. Then they burst into a wild chortle, reaching for the half-killed sake bottle beside them on the floor. “Ahaha, nothing like that. Oh!” FWUNK! The plastic cork popped free and skittered across the floor. “They’re co-workers! Like you and Marigold!” Trailing off, Anzu took a long chug. There was so much left because Anzu bought the sweet stuff—i.e.: the cheap stuff—which is what will happen, if you let Anzu buy alcohol. Which gave Nico, comparatively sober, plenty of time to puzzle out….

“If she’s a medium, and you’re calling them co-workers…” Nico assessed the corners of the room for 3rd party observers. “Cripes. You’re dating a demon?”

Anzu’s nose wrinkled up, their eyes went to slits. A dribble of sake spilled over their chin. “Ehe! Cool, yeah?”

Nico paused for a good long time. Words had left them. Biting their lip, they raised their hands.

“Is she….”

Outlining a box in the air.

No…. A larger one.

M-maybe a bit larger.

“…big?”

“Nico!” Anzu, aghast. Eyes gigantic beneath that shaggy fringe of hair. Just long enough to make Nico squirm. Then, they put both hands in front of them in quiet praise, bowed, and began to jitter. “Ffffffucking extremely!!” They cackled.

Nico paused for a sec, to let the mental image really firm up. They slouched on the couch, and smiled. “Damn, a demon. That’s like a super LDR.”

“Not really.” Anzu chugged the last of the sake. “She’s on the same subway line.”

“Yea, but she’s gotta traverse three planes before she can walk to the station…” Nico blinked. “Hey…”

Before Nico could respond, Anzu burst into a sudden motion, ice-cold feet kicked out, seeking vulnerable spots in the Nico-couch symbiote to burrow between for precious warmth.

Nico yelped, instinctually flinching away, but no matter how Nico contorted, the freezing arches of Anzu’s feet were never far behind.

“Give in!” Anzu squealed. “It’s freezing! I’m drunk!”

“Will you be quiet? You’ll wake up Marigold.” With a hand against Anzu’s face for leverage, Nico managed to wrestle them, laughing, to the couch. “I’ll get you a blanket!”

Anzu relented in an instant, slumping dead-limbed across the couch.

The streams of “Thank you, cousin!” and “Love you, miss you!” and various other obnoxiously affectionate bon-mots trailed Nico all the way down the hallway to the office.

A frizzy sensation rifled through Nico’s neck hair as they creaked the office door open, which probably narrowly saved them a (meta?)physical encounter with Marigold’s astral projection, hovering like a glittering blue constellation of her shape, somewhere between the door and the little linen closet in the side wall.

Marigold, the physical one, was slumped over the desk, steepled hat slumped over her face and… maybe (no, definitely) drooling a little, but it didn’t look like over anything important. Just those parody tarot cards Nico had gotten her one year in an unfortunately passive-aggressive plea to tune The Readings down a notch…

Nico skirted around the little celestial nymphs that flitted back and forth to outline Marigold’s form as she chatted emphatically gesturing with her hands towards unseen partners in muted conversations.

It was probably work. Nico hoped it was work. Astral bandwidth was really expensive this time of year and—

The nymphs twisted and flurried around one another as Marigold swayed with laughter.

It was probably work…. Related?

A little “snurrgurrgle” of a snort escaped Marigold, the physical one, as Nico tucked a blanket around her and said goodnight.  

When Nico got back, Anzu was fully asleep fully sprawled out with fully one of the couch cushions on top of them for insulation. So Nico just chucked the blanket on top of the whole thing and hit un-mute on the TV.

Nico watched the TV for a while, til Anzu had to come up for air. Sneaking their head out from under the blanket, red-faced from booze and trapped body heat, and smiling cozily. “So what year is this, for y’all two?”

“A lot.”

“Did she get you a gift?”

A startle-tremor ran through Nico. They scruffed their nails through the back of their hair. “Yeah.”

Anzu’s smeared wingliner accentuated to stiletto points. “Was it a good one?”

Nico reddened. Scratched at her collar bone like worrying up an old secret. “She’s… done worse.”

A satisfied little giggle, from the other side of the couch. “Bet she has.”

The little cartoon space man living and dying in 15 second intervals on the TV screen became very interesting, for a while. Long enough that all the thoughts in Nico’s head began to parse themselves out… one by one…

“So.” Anzu’s spine arched, sliding up the arm of the couch, their hands rooted blindly behind them, coming back with a fistful of red vines, morst of which ended up in their mouth on the first go. “How’s your mom?”

[intrepidmare]

This is my submission for Olicity Clue, an event organized by @olicitytropes. Besides the clues given, I got inspired by an old pop song in Spanish, Mi Chica De Humo (my smoke girl), quoted below. 

Can you guys guess which my 3 clues are, a person, a place, and a thing?

PS: This is the dress Felicity wears 😉

Teen | one-shot | 2156 words | AU

Also available on Ao3

MY SMOAK GIRL

Although I don't know who she is 

My feet should know

They follow her like the rats 

to the flute of Hamelin

 To lose her later.

—"Mi chica de humo", Emmanuel (1988)

Striding in the nightclub as if he owns it, the first thing Oliver notices is the crowd, contorting rhythmically on the dance floor. As he expects, the place is full to the rafters. He plows through the drunk throng, dodging bodies, alert to any threat around him. The loud beat of the music makes it almost impossible to have a conversation at a normal volume. Neither it allows hearing the little talk that anyone could establish.

The latter is the exact reason why he chose this club as the meeting place with his tech girl. As an undercover ARGUS agent, he needs to outsource where he gets information to accomplish his job. An encounter in a shifty, secluded place always draws more attention than one in plain sight.

Amanda Waller was very clear the day she assigned this mission to him. She ordered him to cut each and all types of communication with the agency until the target was neutralized. That left him at a disadvantage. 

His target, Deadshot, is an elusive international assassin with a large death toll under his belt. The killer's true identity is a mystery, leaving his particular modus operandi as the only way to recognize his work. He kills with bullets laced with curare. As a fast-acting poison, the curare ensures that even if the victim survives the shot, the person is paralyzed in 3 minutes and dead in the next. 

Oliver knows the basics around a computer but he's not the tech-savviest person in the world. If he wanted to catch this guy, he needed the help of someone who was. If he couldn't access the legal resources, he turned to the illegal ones. The first thing Oliver did before leaving ARGUS HQ was to look for the file of the most skillful hacker in their watchlist. One stood out more than any other. 

The irony of Oliver using that list wasn't lost to him. That's how Amanda had found him. Oliver had been on the same list once until she recruited him a few years ago. Waller is adept to keep tabs on people who have a specific or extraordinary skillset who could be either a threat or a possible asset. 

When Oliver found Felicity Smoak, she was not what he expected. He had taken one look at the quirky, babbling blonde and his world tilted. Five minutes later, he was totally smitten with her. A dangerous thing in his line of work. 

Despite wishing not to, Oliver longs for these encounters with her. They've started as tense and awkward moments. Through time, however, they became a source of solace and reassurance in his violent life. 

There's one thing that bothers Oliver about Felicity: she has the uncanny ability to disappear on him. He prides himself to be a good hunter. Nothing passes his notice, except when she goes away. He's tried to follow her to no avail. She just vanishes like smoke, making honors to her surname. 

He shouldn't take it personally. It's understandable that after he barged into her life and "recruited" her, informing her that a governmental agency was aware of her hacktivism, as she likes to call it, Felicity took serious measures to remain in the dark.

He promised her that if she helped him, he would erase her file and he'd personally guarantee that no charge would be pressed against her. A poor reassurance for her, apparently. To her credit, Oliver stretched the truth about how much power he has to make that happen and she saw through him. Amanda Waller is a woman who gets what she wants and if Felicity is at the top of the list that means Weller has her eyes on the blonde hacker. 

The upbeat dance song, playing loudly on the speakers, fades out before a slower one starts and the crowd on the dance floor disperses, creating an aisle in their midst. A woman walks through it as recognition hits Oliver. He can do nothing but admire Felicity approaching the bar where he waits. Sweeping an appreciative glance over her, he enjoys the view of her mile-long legs, her feet encased in a pair of strappy black sandals, then his eyes come back up. 

The red mini dress she wears clings snuggly to her curves and makes Oliver inwardly drool. 

Get a grip.

The mental chastisement does little to prevent his body's reaction; his heart beats faster, heat travel through his veins directly to his groin, and his hands itch with a yearning for touching Felicity's tantalizing body. 

A thing that he never has allowed himself to do. Only in his dreams.

"Have something for me?" he says lamely when she reaches him. I sound like a jackass. Why couldn't he say something nice, to ask how she is?

A sad smile is set on her red lips and his guilt skyrockets.

"Yes I do," she dismisses the small talk and goes straight to business as he did. "I've got what you're looking for."

"You found him." Oliver's tone doesn't convey entirely the awe he feels. Nobody at ARGUS has been able to find this guy, and here's Felicity with the done deed as if it's nothing. 

"His name is Floyd Lawton, ex-military, history of domestic violence and… and he's here."

"Here?" Oliver hissed through his gritted teeth as goes into a higher alert, sweeping his gaze around, and looking for the threat. Without even thinking about it, he gets closer to Felicity in a protective move. The last thing he wants is for her to be in the crosshairs of an assassin.

"Well, not here, here," Felicity clarifies, firing her words out in rapid succession as Oliver's noticed she often does when nerves get the better of her. She certainly looks jittery and her tone is a little breathless. "Not in the club. In Star City here. He's staying at the Papp Motel, Room 52. I think… I think he has a contract. For what I could dig up from the dark web, there's someone in the city paying serious money for a job."

"You found out who?"

"I backtraced the money through what felt like a gazillion of shell companies. It wasn't easy but, at last, I found a connection to a restaurant here in the city… the Jade Dragon."

Oliver groans.

"What?"

"It's better that you don't know."

That restaurant is a known front for the Chinese Triad. If the Triad hired Deadshot, the safest thing to do for Felicity is keeping that knowledge from her.

The sound of glass shattering starlets both Oliver and Felicity.  A few feet from them, a partying group laughs drunkenly as one of them tries to clean off him the drink that obviously fell from his grasp. 

When Oliver returns his gaze to Felicity, she's more rattled than he expects. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh." 

She nods but the way she swallows hard tells a different story.

"Felicity," Oliver drawls her name, in a way that is both a warning and a persuading plea. She looks at him and, for the first time, he glimpses a trace of fear in her eyes. "What is it? Did something happen?"

"No, no. I'm sure I'm being paranoid."

"What. Happened?"

This time his steadfast tone that leaves no room to avoid answering the question goes through Felicity. She sighs and bits her lower lip. "It's silly," she insists, "But I thought someone was following me this morning. Like I said, paranoid."

"That happened before or after you found out what you told me about Lawton?"

Her forehead crinkles as she thinks. "After," she said cautiously.

"Shit!"

"What? Oliver, what?! I'm not paranoid, am I?" 

Oliver ignores her questions and the rising panic in her voice. Instead, he turns to the bartender and asks her for a notepad and a pen. When she gives what he needs, Oliver scribbles an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Felicity. "Go there," he instructs. "Take a cab and go there now. Ask for John Diggle. He'll help you. He knows what to do."

"Help me? Why? What's going on, Oliver? Who's following me?"

"I'm sorry, Felicity. I never meant to put you in danger. I'm sorry."

He never meant to do that but he knew it was a possibility, so that's why he talked with his best friend, who incidentally is a former ARGUS agent, to set up a safe house for her in case of need. He had thought about it more for if Amada Weller wasn't going to play along with taking Felicity off the list. He wanted to keep Felicity the promise he made her… one way or another.

Oliver is unable to stop himself. He needs to have a little moment to remember later before sending her away, so he gives in the need to touch her. Putting his hands on her shoulders and gliding them up and down over her arms, he leans his forehead on hers. She looks at him, confused. 

Selfishly, Oliver is glad that she's so unsettled to reject his caresses or pull away. In fact, she surprises by placing her hands on his chest and closing her eyes. If he trusts her facial expression, then she's relishing the contact as much as he is.

"He's after me so I gotta hide, is that it?" she asks softly.

Oliver nods. Lawton, the Triad, or even Waller could be tailing Felicity, therefore, yes, she needs to go to safety.

"Am I ever going to see you again?"

The question breaks his heart. 

"Maybe," he replies, but both know that it's a lie.

Oliver pulls away from her and steps back. It's almost impossible for him to do. It takes all his willpower to let her go.

She follows him and surprises him yet again. She mutters something that sounds like "oh, what the frak" and then she's kissing him. A soft kiss that put to shame all the wildest dreams about kissing her that he had before. The tenderness of it, the simplicity does its best to break him. Almost succeeded.

When she pulls away, he asks her, "What was that for?"

"Just in case," she says simply. "If I never see you again, I didn't want to regret not kissing you at least once since it seems you don't have the courage to do it."

He chuckles with sadness, realizing that his attraction for her isn't unrequited. "You're a remarkable woman, Felicity Smoak. Far braver than I am. I'll always regret not having done something or said something to you before now. We just could've…."

A million of what could've been but they'll never be.

"Come find me later and I'll let you make up for it."

Paying no heed to his instinct or logic, Oliver dares to dream with that possibility. Yes, he decides. He'll deal with Deadshot and the Triad, will tie the loose ends with Amanda and demand her to keep the promise she made him a long time ago, according to which she would release him from duty after time served under her command. That time has gone and passed. 

Before, he didn't have anything to live a normal life. Now, he does.

Felicity steals another kiss from him before walking away. Oliver resists the temptation to call her back as she sashays away. As if in a dream the crowd parts and regroups as Felicity crosses the dance floor. In a moment, she's there and, in the next, she's gone like smoke.

*

Oliver walks closer to the cozy cabin ahead. He strides onward with confidence, even if his stomach feels full of butterflies. He takes the front steps and watches the little porch with a couple of chairs. It's an ideal place to sit at night and stargaze or simply to enjoy a hot cup of tea in good company.

He raps two knuckles on the front door and waits. It seems that the butterflies in his stomach suddenly became lead as he stands there and no one answers the door.

John said she'd be there. Why isn't she answering? Before his panic blows up fully and he knocks the door down, it opens.

She's there with a smile brighter than the sun.

"Felicity," he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

"There you are, handsome. I've been waiting for you for months. Did you have to drag your feet?"

Unfazed by the teasing, Oliver wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close to him. His lips trap hers, kissing her as he dreamed all those months since he saw her last. 

"I think," he says between kisses, "that I have some making up to do. Do you still want to collect the debt?"

Felicity laughs and then moans when he finds a particular tender spot on her neck. 

"Oh, yes. I plan to collect every penny and with interest," she teases as she hauls him inside the house. 

[archieimagines]

Five Hargreeves being in love with you would include:

requested by: anon. i think i got a little carried away with this - he’s one of my favouritest characters ever. thanks for the request <3 warnings: this may seem a little... well, you know. but i promise, there’s nothing inappropriate here! besides, he is an old man.

At first, it’d be very uncomfortable to be around him at all. He’s like thirteen but speaks with a certain maturity that’s just very… odd. What kind of thirteen year old can have in-depth discussions about the Vietnam war and nineteen-forties politics as if he were there?

But then the Hargreeves would take you aside and explain that although he’s thirteen, and although he was born on the same day as the rest of them, he’s actually fifty-eight. Again, it’s odd and a bit scary at first, but when you think about it, it’s entirely logical.

You’d build a quick friendship when you finally understand him, and it’d catch fire quickly. You’d love to hear all his stories, his thoughts and terrifying knowledge of the apocalypse. But coming from an animated young man who had the patience of a grouchy old fogey, it was hilarious.

He’d get annoyed at you the first time you start laughing while he’s talking. He’d demand to know why, call you childish, and walk off. The irony would just make you cackle harder.

But soon, he’d begin to see your point. He’d crack a smile when he could see you trying to keep your laughter in, and although he’d get annoyed at your OAP jokes, he’d shake his head and let you have it.

But only you. If anyone else were to try the same, he wouldn’t have it. That’s when he’d know you were different, that he felt some type of way about you.

Soon it would come about that when you’re least expecting it, he’d randomly pop up by your side. Making dinner? You’d have to cook for two, just in case he showed up in the middle of your eating. Gonna take a shower? You gotta leave a note on the fridge, just in case he shows up and can’t find you.

Sometimes you’d get home from work and find a note on your fridge that you didn’t put there. It’d tell you to check the oven - and you’d find that he’d cooked dinner for you.

You’d never know, but he’d charge his siblings with making sure you’re okay when he’s off doing Five-things. You’d find that you’d have lunch dates with Allison more than before, and more than once you’d wake up in the night because of a fistfight outside your house. You’d lean out the window and tell Diego to go home.

Klaus would tease the both of you - it would rub Five the wrong way when he calls out “cradle-robber”, knowing fully it could apply to the both of you. You’d think it hilarious, which is just lucky because otherwise Five would grill Klaus for days.

You’d find yourself fitting into the dysfunctional family rather nicely, and you’re actually appreciated there - perhaps you’re a glint of that normality that they all miss out on. Perhaps its also because they’re glad someone can understand Five, and help him adapt to his weird situation.

Eventually, he’d have no choice but to tell you how he feels, lest he wants to suffocate in his feelings. He’d have tried to keep them in, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable or -god forbid- chase you away. But when he crashes your dinner and finds that you have a guy over for dinner (a guy your own age, dammit), his temperament would sour so quickly. He’d ask questions he didn’t want to know the answer to, and you’d be able to tell from how cold he was that he wasn’t alright. When he zaps away, you wouldn’t see him for another week. No notes, no random appearances, he’s not even around when you visit the Academy. Nothing.

It’s only when Allison talks to him about how hard he is to be around that he decides he needs to fix it. Well, she blackmails him. “If you don’t do it, I’ll hear a rumour and you’ll do it anyway.” He may or may not have thrown a coffee cup or two in frustration.

So he appears one evening, but this time, he only appears on your front step. He’d have to check from looking into one of the windows that it is where you live, because he’s never actually been stood outside it before - he just zaps right in. So when you answer the door, he’s both relieved and absolutely devastated.

You’d invite him in, very confused, and make him a cup of coffee. He’d drink it all and ask for another one before he even says a word about what’s on his mind.

When he does, it’s blunt. He explains why, and although you find it tremendously cute, he approaches it like a math question. Logical, systematic, trying to keep emotion out of it. But you can tell he’s nervous and upset, that this means a great deal to him. His voice is his typical explaining, analytical voice, but he clutches the coffee cup until his knuckles turn white and he struggles to meet your eye.

Understandably, you’d feel a little uncomfortable with his confession. On one hand he’s thirteen, but on the other he’s fifty-eight. Either way, it’s... uncomfortable.

But, you’d lean across the table, take his coffee cup, and place your hand over his. Clearly he’s suffering, knowing it can’t happen. But that doesn’t mean you have to be cold.

You’d smile at him, and he’d give a blue smile in return. You’d explain to him that it can’t happen, and of course, he’d nod. He knows.

You’d propose waiting for him - when he’s older, maybe you can give it a shot then.

He’d be so salty. “When I’m twenty-five I’ll be seventy, you know.”

You’d laugh at that, and he’d crack a smile at the familiar situation. You’d kiss his forehead before he goes, knowing it’d mean something different to him than it did to you. But what can you do in that situation?

Before long, things would be back to normal. He’d be irritable, though charming, and your best friend, though simultaneously a child and old man. He’d will himself to push through the days, waiting for the day he’s ‘older’, and would spend each of those days reaffirming you that you mean so much to him, dinner in the oven and sweets left on the table with a note. You mean the most.

written by: archie

[missjackil]

My 14x17 Opinion

Game Night

This was the first new episode since “The Announcement” and I have to say I was putting off writing it. I usually post these the day after, but I procrastinated so it’s a bit late. So forgive my butt-hurt tardiness and let's have at it.

I enjoyed this episode, though it wasn't without some issues. I must say that I was pleased that it wasn't as Sam-lite as I thought it would be from the promo pics, trailer, and knowing Jared didn't work a lot that week, I will always want for more Sam in an episode, but all his parts were necessary and high quality in this one, so I'm not angry at all. 

We start the episode with Donatello making cookies, singing Raindrops are Fallin’ on my Head, which made me smile. It made me think of Butch Cassiday and The Sundance Kid and I love that movie, and if J2 ever want to play the leads in a remake, I would be willing to pay for it myself! 

Donny gets interrupted by the door, and we know this is a problem because its the first 5 minutes of SPN, let's be honest. As soon as I see the bad guy’s wedding ring, I think “Shit... here comes Nick”. I thought he was gonna kill him and I'm glad he didn't. I like Donny, he looks like my dad. 😊

Back at the Bunker, the fam is getting ready for “Winchester Game Night” and Dean is playing Mouse Trap, and having no luck getting it to work. I had that game as a kid too and was never able to get it to work either, but it was fun putting it together! I did think it was a little sad but fitting, that Dean would have played that game as a 4 yr old, but leave it to John and Mary to give Dean a game made for older kids, that never worked out the way it was supposed to and had too many small parts he could choke on. (the irony is not lost on me)

Mary and Jack are in the kitchen. I could literally almost smell the Jiffy Pop popcorn. A Saturday night staple at my house growing up (any of you out there ever taste that greasy salt left on the sides of the foil pan? Good stuff!) and Mary starts in with the questions for Jack. I got a kick out of him telling her its annoying, and her face after. It’s ok Mary, he’s fine, he’s just a teenager now. Something I guess she never got to experience from the adult side. 

Sam is out getting pizza, and all the times they’ve had pizza, I never really saw what Sam likes on his. Apparently both he and Dean like lots of pepperoni. Good choice boys! The joy is short-lived (of course) by Donatello’s call, and Dean and Mary go off to help. I loved Sam sitting there researching. I have always loved his look of interest and concentration during these times. Smart!Sam moment #1 he figures out the language is ancient Hebrew, #2 he has the moment of realization that he knows it’s from the Bible, and knows what chapter and verse. (demerits for the writers though for not knowing Peter is in the New Testament and is in Ancient Greek, not Hebrew, but kudos for Sam/Jared for at least knowing the book is located near the back of The Bible)

Mom and Dean in the car. Now we have the talk about how wrong she knows she’s been but how appreciative she is to have this time with him and Sam. Uhoh... sounds like lines typically given to a character who is soon to be killed off? Hmmm we’ll see. Soon they arrive at Donny’s to find Nick. He says he's poisoned Donny and to save him, they have to help him. He wants to talk. 

Back at the bunker, violent rage!Sam awaits!! GOD that gave me tingles in the best way! I loved Dean leading Nick down the hall in cuffs, in slow motion as if leading him to his execution, and Sam standing there with his chest puffed out like a friggin’ bulldozer, and the snarl and slam attack against the wall!! (hand me that towel, please??) Dean backs Sam off, lots of brother touching going on, but we need intel, we can't kill him yet. 

Now Sam is in self-loathing mode.... he thinks everything is his fault. So many people dying because of him. This is gonna be a big issue soon, I promise. Mom talks Sam off the self-deprecating ledge and tells him he gave Nick another chance because he’s a good man and that's why she’s so proud of him. Sam softens up into the sweetest “aww shucks ma” smile and I want to hug him💕 also, still lines are being spoken by mom that are synonymous with being killed off.

Now, I procrastinated talking about Cas and Anael because the whole thing was boring. I'm not a wife hater but at least make her necessary if you’re going to cast her. I was ok about her role as Sister Jo for Devil’s Bargain but she hasn't been necessary since. Cas wasn't even necessary in this episode. We knew he was hiding the fact that Jack killed the snake, and there are probably 1000 other ways they could have reminded us that the Samulet is still around and maybe they can use it, than for him to find a similar one in the thrift shop or whatever that place was. I dug Methuzula though, he was the oldest dude in the Bible. He wasn’t an angel, for any of you worried about him liking lasagna or why he couldn't just smite Cas... its because he's HUMAN just extremely old. 

On to more interesting things. 

Nick wants to talk to Jack. I was not pleased with Nick referring to Jack as his son. Im not 100% convinced that the writer (and all involved really) remembered that Jack isnt Nick’s son, but added that as a note of empathy Nick has for Lucifer, you’d THINK someone, particularly Jack would say “Im not your son” ?? but anyway, he gives intel to Jack and also gets his blood (dun dun dunnnn) 

Sam is again a smarty pants and knows the antidote for Thalium is Prussian Blue (makes note) and figures he can hack the live feed (brains are so sexy) I also love that Sam’s word is the go word. So many more decisions are made because Sam thinks its the best option than he's ever given for in the fandom. So Sam and Dean take Nick with them to find Donny. 

I really love the broments in this part. Dean tells Nick if he tries anything funny, Sam will shoot him. “And if anything happens to me....” “Sam will shoot me”  “To start!” says Sam... because if he hurts Dean, Sam isnt letting him off that easy. But in true SPN form, as soon as Sam and Dean are separated, shit goes south.

Mom calls Sam and lets him know Donny was shot up with Angel grace, as Jack figured out, Nick was playing them. Now the fight between Sam and Nick ensues! Nick tells Sam why he used Donatello, which was to bring Lucifer back, “You can't, he’s dead he’s in the Empty” Sam says but this show’s self-awareness gets me sometimes lol Nick’s like “Cmon Sam you know no one stays dead anymore” and Sam starts kicking his ass. 

Now, I have already seen a million of you whine and complain that Sam didn’t kill Nick. It’s almost as though some of you have never met Sam Winchester. Of course Sam could have killed Nick, and most of us wish he did, but Sam has stopped himself from killing humans before. He stopped himself with Jake in AHBL and also with Toni in 12x01. Unfortunately it always bites him in the ass. Could it be that Sam thinks if he can kill a human with his bare hands that he’s a monster? This isn’t bad writing folks, this is Sam’s character. 

Nick takes advantage of Sam’s hesitation and starts nailing him with a rock. Spewing crap about Sam being Lucifer’s Perfect vessel and such.... this can only mean that issue will be coming up soon! Sam gets in the car and starts laying on the horn for Dean, calling out to him... Dean hears Sam is in trouble, enough playing around here time to kill some demons. 

When he gets to Sam. he sees he’s badly injured. Sam can hardly hold on to consciousness, protective!dean kicks in! Apply preasure to the blled, call 911, call mom. Now check for brain damage and play a counting game with Sam This hurt my feels so much, it made it feel so much more serious than all the other head injuries he’s sustained. Dean and his caring big brother smile and light hearted speech so Sam doesnt panic just kills me in the best way!! Sam tries to count with him a little and breaks into “You always put me first... your whole life” and manages to muster a little smile. Dean knows Sam believes he’s checking out, and you see the fear all over Dean’s face as Sam fades away. (OMG these 2!! Every freakin time!!)

Meanwhile, Mary and Jack found Nick and he has summoned Lucifer and just about to take him in again (Lucifer looked pretty cool,,, gotta say) and Jack zaps Lucifer back into the rift (no not forever guys... cmon) and starts torturing Nick. Mary kinda flips out telling Jack to stop. He’s contorting his hand, burning him from the inside out... not simply killijng him. Mary is full on worried now. Jack stops and Nick is laying on the floor. Mary is in shock and tells Jack to go help Sam, He heals him and Dean cant even hide his relief as he turns away to catch his breath. 

Now Jack returns to Mary who is more than worried about how Jack was torturing Nick. We know the Winchesters dont mind killing, but draw the line at torture. However, Mary stupidly poked the bear. She could have just kept herself and Jack calm and talked to the boys later, but she poked and poked till Jack freaked out. Though I am wondering if Jack was also hearing Lucifer when he was shouting “Leave me alone!!” But in any regard, he looked at Mary and something happened. Fade to black. 

Aside from the Cas/Anael part, I really enjoyed this episode. A few issues yes, but it hit most of the marks needed for me to enjoy an episode. Ive already rewatched it twice and will again and again. 

On a scale of Bloodlines to Lebanon, I give this a strong 7.5 without the Cas/Anael bit it would have been an easy 8.

[iamrheaspeaks]

High Heels Pt.2

Erik x OC! (Thea)

Bold Italics: Inner Dialogue

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warning: Angst

A/N: Okay loves, this picks up where the time jump left off in Part 1. Hopefully you guys don’t hate me too much after this chapter. As always lightly proofread/ edited. Enjoy 💋

Part 3

~~~

Previously: Erik’s eyes glued to the condensation rolling off an untouched water glass on the table as he tried to contain his own tears. “I love you Thea”.

~~~

Thea’s POV:

When Thea exited the restaurant she was met with an angry Shay, quietly chastising someone on the phone about fucking something up and a brooding Malachi. “I’m sorry you two. My assistant double booked me and I have to be clear across town in–” Shay paused looking down at her watch before gritting through her teeth with a forced smile, “35 minutes”.

“Don’t stress. I should rest a little anyway”, Thea assured her.

Shay just shook her head as she hugged them both before adding, “I’ll stop by the hotel a little later. Again, I’m really sorry” Shay pouted.

“Girl if you don’t stop! This was a pop up visit anyway, do what you gotta do.”

Malachi interjected, “Speaking of pop ups, we gonna discuss the one you just had?”

Anyone who cared to be looking on would’ve been none the wiser meanwhile Shay didn’t have to hear anything else to know where this was headed. Instantly catching the hint of jealousy in Malachi’s voice she was suddenly thankful for her assistant’s fuck up. Shay, briefly pulling Thea into another hug whispers “Looks like we both got some shit to handle”.

Not wanting to take the chance this conversation was going exactly how she expected Thea got Malachi to hold off until they got back to the privacy of their hotel room. The silence of the short car ride was much appreciated so she could collect her thoughts about literally everything that just transpired. Malachi had never formally met, spoken or seen Erik before today but everything about their brief encounter had his head running a mile a minute. “Did this nigga real just–? And what was with that greeting? Does she still love him? Princess? She practically begged me to leave.” Normally Thea would be the one to try and coax him out of his thoughts but she was stuck in the same predicament. Completely wrapped up in her own thoughts, feelings stirring up bits and pieces off the floor of her mind like dust in a breeze. “Why do I feel so anxious? I don’t even understand where all this jealousy is coming from. You did kinda dismiss him for ‘That Ex’. I mean? Did I? Damn! I guess I kinda did…”

Back in the room they continued to just exist in each other’s space not talking. The turbulence inside Thea’s head dissipated immediately when Malachi’s voice sliced through the deafening silence of the room. He inhaled deeply as he turned his body to the side cocking a leg further up on the mattress as he faced her. That one simple combination of actions let Thea know that this was going to go one of two ways. Either it would start heated with every word exchanged after adding oxygen, fuel, and wood to the fire or they’d hash it all out ‘Honesty Hour’ style. No questions to go unanswered and them slowly regressing out of anger having gotten shit out on the table. She was really hoping for the latter, if not for hers than the baby’s sake.

“So. What was so private that you couldn’t talk about it in front of Shay and I?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already expressed. I told you if I got the chance I wanted to apologize to Erik. How was I supposed to know it’d actually happen on this trip?”

“Then you should’ve been able to say it in front of everyone.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Thea snapped. “That’s not how you apologize for something like that.”

“The apology means the same no matter whose there.” Malachi deadpanned.

Thea sat up as straight as she could making the heel of her palms dig into her thighs just above the knee. Tapping her foot on the floor before standing up. Thea marveled “You’re really mad at me because I wanted to apologize in my own way?”

“Your way” Malachi parroted making quote marks in the air with his fingers like a child, “makes no sense.”

Looking down to her belly starting to block the view of her feet now, Thea screwed her eyes shut and filled her lungs before clapping her hands together in front of her repeatedly as she spoke. “If you weren’t there when I broke up with him then WHY THE FUCK would I want you there when I apologized?! Like do you fucking hear yourself right now?”

Malachi’s next words made Thea’s ears burn and anger peak to dangerous levels, “Could’ve just said your peace as a response to one of the many messages he was sending you.”

Erik was persistent as hell in the beginning right after the breakup. It was like non-stop one-way communication. Though it was normally limited to Instagram messages and random texts with nothing but song titles accompanied by the artist name. “Wait?” Thea mulled over the irony of what’s unfolding. “You went through my messages?”

“Yeah I did! How else was I gonna know, well anything. You never talk about any of it. I know you, you cant just cut people off like you think you can.”

“I never answered any of the messages. Not once! They just stopped! What more do you need?” Malachi’s surfacing trust issues were pissing off Thea more than anything else.

“Tell me you don’t love him!” Malachi demanded.

Erik’s POV:

Once he felt her presence slink away from him Erik lightly shook his head before gathering himself and walking over to his own table. He sat there drumming his fingertips against the edge of the empty table as he watched Shay hug Thea and Malachi. Stepping out of the hug the two women exchange a few more words before attention turned to the man among them. From this angle Erik could see Thea rapidly tapping her thumb and ring fingers together behind her back. It was a tick she had from when she was little, it helped her relax and calm her thoughts. Kind of having the same effect as popping a rubber band on your wrist. As the thought hit Erik to get up and check if she was all right the men he was meeting with arrived. After greeting them Erik turned back towards the entrance to catch another glimpse, but they were gone.

Throughout the entire meeting it was clear Erik wasn’t fully present. Barely eating any of his food as he picked through it. Everything about seeing Thea was throwing him off. She became very private on social media really only posting plates of food, work memes and the occasional selfie. Never showing anything below the small arrow pendant she wore around her neck. Thea’s nuptials to Malachi were common knowledge thanks to mutual friends but seeing her pregnant had him lost for words. Erik knew he should be happy for her but above all else he was hurt it wasn’t him Thea was with. His baby she was carrying. More so, Erik was mad at himself because he knew it was ultimately his fault.

The sudden buzzing from his phone in his pants pocket cemented Erik back into his surroundings. He was about to ignore it until it buzzed again and again and again. Having gained interest in what the notifications could be Erik excused himself from the table. Coming to sit down on a bench by the bathrooms Erik opened his phone to a series of texts from a number he didn’t have saved. It was the address to a hotel just outside of town followed by a series of messages.

–Thea won’t calm down enough to let me in or tell me what happened and Malachi stormed off.

–Come fix this shit Erik.

–NOW!

Earlier consumed by the thought of being face to face with Thea again meant that Erik never took into account that the dynamics of her relationship with Malachi was different than theirs had been. He never realized the ripple effect that that would set into motion. Erik shot back two words before getting up from where he was seated to make his way to the hotel.

–Say less

Back at the Hotel:

Thea is sitting on the floor of the bathroom in her suite with her back against the locked door. Shay eventually came to her senses and stopped banging on the door demanding entry. Wanting to give Shay some form of communication Thea started patting her lap and the floor around her before realizing she didn’t have her phone. But still not quit ready to be in anyone else’s presence Thea just sat there rubbing her belly with one hand trying to coax her little one to move. At the same time repeatedly stroking the arrow pendent she never took off. Letting her mind wander to how she acquired it. When they were together she’d seen some stupid text post about the symbolism between arrows and the difficulties of life. Thea lowly chuckled to herself as she remembered annoying the fuck out of Erik with that damn quote. Every time he complained about something backfiring Thea would bring it up. So Erik thought it be a cute idea to materialize it for her. An arrow can only be shot forward by being pulled back.

Meanwhile, Shay frustrated with the negative turn this day had taken has been pacing the hallway waiting for either Malachi to come back or Erik to show up, hoping both actions didn’t collide. Secretly Shay knew which would win if they showed up at the same time. Shay’s phone buzzed again in her hand providing her answer.

–Room number

–1302

Finally catching sight of Erik down the hall a few minutes later, “Bout damn time!” Shay proclaimed throwing her hands up.

“Hello to you too Shay. Again. What’s––”

Cutting Erik off, “All I know is when I got here from my double booking I could hear them arguing from the lobby. I got to the door right as Malachi swung it open and stormed out. She’s been locked up in the bathroom ever since.”

“She won’t come out for you?” Erik half chuckled remembering a time when the shoe was on the other foot.

“You think I woulda text you if she did?” Shay sneered with hand on hip. “Her pregnancy is high risk Erik, she can’t be under this kinda stress.” Erik stared blankly at Shay before looking back at the bathroom door. Her admission hurt as much to hear as he imagined it was for her to say. Erik rapped the knuckle of his middle finger against the door to gain Thea’s attention.

Thea’s POV:

It wasn’t until Thea heard his voice that she slid back from the door a little unlocking it. Cracking the door open and sticking her hand out for him to take as he walked in before shutting it again. “Hello princess” Erik echoed his greeting from earlier sitting down in the darkness beside Thea. She let out a shaky breath as she changed positions putting her head in his lap, his fingers gliding up and down the base of her skull as a means of comfort. Her playful curls swallowing his fingers in nostalgia while effectively calming Thea back to a steady heartbeat.

Thea audibly chuckled, “Muscle memory.”

“What bout it?”

Thea cupped Erik’s hand with her own, “Its why you couldn’t help but rub the back of your head when you seen me today.”

Erik just hummed in response and Thea wasn’t sure if he was feigning ignorance or truly hadn’t put the two together. “It’s the last place I touched you before today. The body’s way of consolidating a task that’s repeated over time. Normally in reference to completing an action but I think it works it this case too.” Thea paused to smile to herself, taking her attention from Erik to the baby as it started to move further calming her nerves. She hadn’t felt any movement since returning to the hotel.

“Thea what happened?” Erik pondered.

“Does it matter?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

Erik’s response was halted by the sound of someone banging loudly on the door. Thea could hear Malachi screaming as he pounded on it. Thea groaned as she finally went to stand and mentally prepare to leave the security of the bathroom and its peaceful darkness. Not liking the vibe that Malachi was giving off and wanting to help maintain Thea’s calm state Erik hopped up after her. Gently squeezing her shoulders before dropping his hands as she opened the door. The way Malachi’s face distorted at the sight of Erik made him look beastly.

“What the fuck he doing here?”

“Cleaning up your mess!” Erik countered using his body as a barrier so Thea could fully exit the bathroom.

“Fuck you nigga!” Malachi whined shoving Erik while his back was turned. Being caught off guard his body careened forward into Thea before Erik could slam his palm against the wall and catch his footing.

Once he found his feet Erik whipped around facing Malachi. “Yo! The fuck is wrong wit you?”

Thea stumbled away from the wall arms out to aid in regaining her balance from Erik crashing into and pinning her against the wall. Sucking the air back into her lungs so hard and fast it burned. Looking down her eyes dilating as her hands flew to her stomach letting out a blood-curdling scream. Whispering no over and over again as tears began to burn her eyes sending blazing trails down her cheeks. At the sound of her scream Erik quickly turned back to once over Thea but Shay was already standing in front of her. So hyper focused on Malachi he never seen Shay move around them. Her keen eye having zeroed in on the growing red spot on the cream colored carpet before her ears even registered Thea’s screaming. Shay looked beyond her friend’s trembling frame to the two men behind her. They all just stood there frozen in horror for a few moments, none of them knowing what to say. Until just like at the restaurant Shay was the first to find her voice. Stroking Thea’s arms she uttered, “I–I think it’ll be best if the two of you leave.”

Shay’s voice propelled Thea out of the daze she was stick in and something snapped within her. Thea’s bloody hand flew back gripping his wrist tight before she verbally objected Shay’s demands. Voice still hoarse from screaming, “Erik, stay.” She didn’t have to be facing him to know that Malachi was going to attempt to challenge her request. Thea raised her other hand to silence him before finally turning around. Erik and Malachi alike display a look of horror as both of them register the magnitude of the situation. Thea knew that the only thing keeping Erik and Shay from reacting was her seemingly fragile state. Her breathing mirroring Shay’s and her tiny fingers keeping their death grip on Erik’s wrist. The messy bun atop her head disheveled leaving stray pieces of hair to hang in her face. Eyes red and puffy from crying. Snapping her fingers Thea drew their attention away from the blood soaked fabric that used to be her dress. Its white hue rapidly widening into a now crimson red. Thea locked eyes with Malachi before stammering, “I–I promise you. There is no-nothing. Not one thing you could possibly say right now to f–fix this.”

“Thea I–“ Malachi started.

Turning her back to him again, “Just leave” Thea whispered.

Tags: @savagesensitivity @cancerianprincess @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat @muse-of-mbaku @chaneajoyyy @itsangeludaku @eriknutinthispoosy @im5ftbutmythroat66 @theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22 @fonville-designs @wawakanda-btch

[dreamwritesimagines]

Don’t You Love Me? 7 - Haunted Heart [Steve Rogers x Reader]

A.N.: Your feedback makes me so happy, so please keep it coming! kisses! <3

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of addiction, self destructive behavior, cussing, explicit language, mentions of sex.

Summary: Beginnings of friendships never go smooth.

Word Count: 2425

Read Chapter 1 here!

Read Chapter 2 here!

Read Chapter 3 here!

Read Chapter 4 here!

Read Chapter 5 here!

Read Chapter 6 here! 

The beautiful moodboard is made by fictionwillneverdie

Gif’s not mine!

“So let me get this straight,” Jake said as you rolled your eyes and looked down at your glass, barely noticing the last customer leaving the bar. It was almost empty now, with couple of people working at the bar, him, and you. You thought you would be kicked out by now, if it weren’t for Jake who was now leaning on his elbows on the counter, looking at you. “You like my childhood hero, right?”

You took a sip, trying to see through the dizziness, “Like him? What’re we, in high school?”

“And your solution to this problem is to…hook him up with someone.”

“His Star Spangled ass will be out of my reach, yeah.”

“And you downed a bottle of whiskey because he actually might be hooking up with someone.”

You looked up, trying to keep your eyes open. “Mm hm. Sounds about right.”

Jake thought for a second, “I’ll never understand women, will I?”

“Feeling is mutual dude.”

“How is this mutual?” Jake asked, “You like him but you went ahead and told him you’d set him up with someone-“

“What was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, what did you tell me? I think it was along the lines, Dude, wanna come by my place so that we can hook up? Which-” Jake pointed at you, “Now that I know you were imagining him the whole time, it’s kind of rude.”

“I said nothing about imagining him!”

“Your eyes were closed whole time.”

“That’s a habit.” You scoffed, “Besides, it was a one night stand. What did you want, a fucking sonnet?”

“I mean it’s cool,” Jake shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal “I was also imagining him so it’s fine.”

You tried not to laugh and sipped your drink again, “Jesus, what time is it?”

“4 in the morning.”

“I gotta go, I’ll uh-“ You checked the time, “I’ll probably have a meeting in like 4 hours.”

“You’re hammered, Y/N.”

“I’m fine, I’m used to it.”

“Someone should take you home, hand me the phone.”

You pulled your phone back, “Fuck off.”

Jake stared at you, then shook his head slightly, “Fine then, I’m taking you home.”

“No offense but after tonight my libido isn’t exactly in a good place Jake-“

“Y/N no offense, but you sound really complicated and I don’t do complicated,” he retorted and you made a face.

“What’s with men and being brutally honest tonight?”

“Call it your bad influence,” he said as you grabbed your purse and stumbled as soon as you stood up due to the whole bar spinning around you. Jake rushed to help and you shoved him slightly.

“I’m fine, I just need a cigarette.” You muttered as you walked out of the bar but the minute you stepped foot outside, you doubled up and threw up.

“Freaking whiskey…” you mumbled as you wiped your mouth, then started walking with Jake following you suit.

                                              *

You woke up to a splitting headache which made you groan like a freaking zombie and bury your head into a pillow.

“Morning sunshine.”

You opened an eye to see the source of the voice. Jake was playing with his phone by the couch- which was drowned by multiple items of clothing on it- in your bedroom and you held onto your head, then you sat up.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t die- what’s the wifi password?”

You rubbed your eyes, messing up your eye makeup even more, “Jake-“

“Oh look at that, you look like a raccoon.”

You pulled open your drawer and took the painkillers, and downed them with the old bottle of water on the floor. “What’re you doing here?”

He looked up from his phone, “Do you know how many people die from alcohol overdose every year?”

You scoffed, waving a hand dismissively, “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“That’s an actual thing, Y/N.”

“Man-“

“People choke in their own vomit-“

You made a face, “Please stop.”

“Yeah. Not so badass now?”

You rolled your eyes and laid back, rubbing your temples, “What, you were up all night?”

“I’m usually up all night every night. I sleep in the mornings; call it a side effect of my job.”

“How do I get a job like that?”

“Be very attractive and don’t drink your own booze?”

“Yeah, it’s not for me.” You yawned and kicked off the covers to walk to the bathroom “I’ll know it if you snoop around!”

“Yeah yeah…” he mumbled, still playing with his phone and you closed the bathroom door behind you, then doubled up over the toilet, the bile burning your throat. You tried to breathe through it and cussed under your breath and straightened your back, rolling your shoulders. You brushed your teeth and got rid of your make up, and left the bathroom, still wiping at your face with the towel.

“Okay, what’s your deal?”

“There’s this meme-“

“Not that, genius.” You leaned against the doorframe, “Why are you being all….friendly?”

Jake raised his brows, “Um- I don’t know how to answer that.”

“We fucked once-“

“Technically twice.”

You raised your brows, “Fine, technically twice-”

“And it was good.”

“Good for you maybe.” You stated and Jake rolled his eyes, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Who hurt you like this?” he joked and the smile on your face faded for a second before you pulled yourself together.

“Anyway-“ you started but were cut off when someone knocked on your door. You frowned, your heartbeat speeding up in a second.

“Expecting someone?”

“No.” You mumbled and grabbed your stun gun from the drawer, then walked to the door and swung it open, then your eyes widened.

“Steve?”

“Hi,” he looked nervous for some reason, and licked his lips before he cleared his throat, “I was worried about you after last night and Pepper was kind enough to give me your address, is it- is it okay?”

You felt a smile pulling at your lips and leaned against the door, “Wouldn’t know Cap, what would my neighbors think?”

Steve checked around and smiled as he got the joke, then he crossed his arms and took a step back,

“Well I won’t come inside.”

“Obviously.”

“Because you know, for your… uh- it wouldn’t be good for your reputation after all.”

“Yeah. Me as a single gal. People would talk.”

“And we don’t want that.”

“I’d be ruined.” You said before you burst into a laughter, “Jesus, you’re something else…”

“Y/N?” you heard Jake’s voice and you hissed in a breath before looking over your shoulder. Jake had already got into his jacket and he shot Steve a small smile.

“Captain America sir,” he nodded at him, “I’m a- I’m a big fan.”

Steve’s expression was absolutely unreadable before he shot him a tight smile, “Thank you.”

“I- uh… I should go.” Jake looked at you, “Call me?”

“Nope.”

“Text?”

“Nah.”

“Send a fucking pigeon?”

“Oh yeah, that works.” You nodded before you smirked, “Hey, and- thanks Jake. For…you know.”

“No problem.” Jake said, “Have a nice day. Nice to meet you again, sir.”

Steve nodded silently as Jake walked past you, then got into the elevator. You clicked your tongue.

“Awkward…” You mumbled and looked up at him, “Could I… I think I ran out of coffee- can I buy you some coffee?”

“No no, I just wanted to see whether you were okay or not-“

“Dude, I’m buying you coffee.” You cut him off, “You’re being way too sweet and me and the 21st century are not used to it- In fact…” You trailed off and Steve raised his brows, as if humoring you.

“Hm?”

“Wanna call in sick and skip work?”

                                            *

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.” You tugged at his arm while he stood still, not moving an inch and you had to remind yourself not to hurt yourself while trying to  move him, “Fuck’s sake Rogers, are you rooted to the ground?”

“Y/N-“

“It’ll be like- I don’t know, it’ll be creepy but it’ll be fun!”

Steve sipped his coffee and looked at the building as if it had personally offended him while you leaned on your hip.

“Rogers!”

“I mean…” he shook his head, “I don’t know.”

You turned your glances to the museum, and your eyes skimmed the billboard that announced the opening of the new Captain America exhibit. You chuckled to yourself and Steve shot you a look.

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“Fuck yeah I’m having way too much fun, and if you can’t see the irony…” You licked your lips, “Okay, I’m gonna say something I normally don’t say.”

“Okay.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

You pursed your lips for a second, then heaved a sigh, “Please?”

Steve eyed you up and down and narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he was mad at himself for falling for it, but in the end, he just sipped his coffee again and turned to look at the building.

“I’m getting myself a hat.”

You grinned, “I’m getting you a hat. Come on.”

Half an hour and a small discussion about which hat you would get later, you and Steve finally walked into the exhibit. Steve lowered his head and you bumped your shoulder with his as a group of people passed by you.

“No one looks at anyone here, relax,” You said, “Besides, what are the chances the great Captain America would step a foot into a museum about himself? That would be egoistical.”

He shot you a look, making your smile wider before you reached into your bag and grabbed a fistful of bean candies. You offered it to him, and he raised his brows.

“It’s not allowed in here.”

You popped a candy into your mouth and turned your eyes to the closest screen, “Steve Rogers always stood up for what was right even before the serum, even if it meant going against some rules-“

“I’m pretty sure Bucky helped this thing,” Steve nodded at the screen before taking some of the candy into his palm, “On second thought, maybe not. It would flash I told you to stop starting fights, Steve with neon letters if he did.”

You chuckled, “Hey, look at you with your- teammates?”

“Howling Commandos.” Steve nodded, “Best men I’ve ever known.”

“And um- oh shit, sorry…” You trailed off, looking at the gorgeous woman smiling at the camera.

Peggy Carter.

You bit on your lip, your eyes skimming the lines on the list of her awards and honours. It was more than obvious that she was both beauty and brains, it was no wonder why Steve had fallen for her. She looked like a woman ahead of her time, and you were sure anyone around her would be mesmerized by her, considering you already were, even by looking at her on the screen.

“It’s fine.” Steve’s voice snapped you out of it and you tried to pull yourself together.

“So um… Sharon huh?”

Steve stole a look at you, “Jake, huh?”

You clicked your tongue “Well played.”

“Thank you.” he smiled as Bucky’s picture appeared on the screen and you chewed on the candy, trying to decide whether to push the issue or not.

“But you know, Jake isn’t-“ You cleared your throat, “I mean… Sharon looked really- interested in you.”

“Did she?”

At that point, you decided to ask Bucky whether Steve played poker back in the forties or not, because that was a poker face if you saw one.

“Yeah and- and um- how about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, like…does she- does she float your boat?”

Steve raised his brows, “I’m sorry?”

“You know, do you want to…” You trailed off, “Bow chicka wow wow?”

“Y/N I sometimes feel like I need a dictionary-”

“Do you like her like that?” You exploded and a group of girls giggled as they passed by you. You shut your eyes for a second.

“Hey, you know what? Ignore me- ignore my prying ass, it’s none of my-“

“Where did they find that?” Steve got distracted for a second and you followed his gaze to look at a sketch reflected on the screen. You looked at the explanation and tried to pull yourself together.

“Found in your tent.” You pointed at the writing and all of a sudden, the events of last night rushed to you. You could feel your cheeks burn for some reason but you tried to play it cool.

“So um-“ You coughed, “You still draw? Or…anything?”

This time, he was the one who averted his glances. “Sometimes.”

“What do you draw?”

“Oh you know…” he shrugged, and a tinge of pink caressed his cheeks while he stubbornly stared at the screen, “Stuff-”

“Dear visitors, there will be a short movie screening about Captain America and Avengers, and their heroic actions in half an hour.” You heard the guide say “If you’d like to see, you can get your tickets from the register.”

You bit on your lip hard, trying not to smile.

“Y/N, no.”

“Y/N yes!” You nodded, “Come on Cap! Let’s see your heroic actions!”

Steve groaned, but this time he let you pull at his arm to steer you to the register but as soon as you got the tickets, your phone beeped with a text. You frowned, and looked down at the screen, and the minute you did, you held your breath.

There was a picture of Steve and you just now, at the entrance of the museum and under it, there was a text.

Not nice, sunshine.

You could feel the goosebumps rising on your arm and you rushed to the exit with Steve following you suit. You reached the entrance and pushed people out of your way, then went outside, standing exactly where you did in the picture and looked around.

No one.

Fuck. How had you become so unobservant?

“Y/N, what happened?” Steve asked, “You okay?”

You tried to catch your breath and ignore the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, that dreaded nickname echoing in your ears and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together before you turned the phone in your hand to keep him from seeing the screen.

“Y-yeah.” You nodded, “I just- nevermind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You nodded again, and looked up at him. He was frowning deeply and a part of you just wanted to reach out and smooth the skin between his brows, but you managed to control yourself and took a deep breath.

“Really. Nevermind, Steve. Let’s go back inside.”

Chapter 8 is here! 

  Special thanks go to:  @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @radgaljazz  @girlwhoisfearless @fictionwillneverdie @lilywoood @marss-anonymous @icameforthefanfiction @pandalandalopalis @evolutionofkatep @reallyconfusednow @fandomcrazie@latibulemark @aikeji@optimisticheartyouth@fangirlbookworm@samwinchxtr@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  @iamthemaskhewears@sasunarushiita@whatiswrongwithpeople @mischievous-fairy @agent-smoak @allison-rosewood-maximoff @petrashappyplace@swtltlmrvlgrl@itsyaboyo @imalittlebean @hey-garrett-shut-up @barnesrogersvstheworld@ruffdog921 @hogwarts-and-houseplants @go-crybaby @danielhowellstolemycamera @zabeth716 @imaginecrushes @miss-jen-winter @attorneyl @missmidnightxo@renesmeeharelds , @sippinpeachtea@skeletoresinthebasement@birdandrose @dark-princesse@local-space-ace @marauderskeeper@bva14@thatprofessionalfangirl@broken-piecesyourwittywitch@yasssssvictoria @dreamsofcaliforniaadventure @hista-girl @im-only-slightly-psycho @meashy-moo@themessthatismymindsoulsofstarsliveinyourveins @nininstinct  @charlie1987me @imyxtay @dans-les-details @evanstar @owhatshername1 @thewhinersoldier  @raiymaj@shallowshawn @im-beautifully-sewn @bvilla0 , @flaboyance @minuialeth75 @not--even-a-real--fan @superwolfchild-fan @nerdgirljen @prancingdestiel @dollbitxhes @avengemebuckyy @projectxhappiness @sonarsyndor @musical-whovian and lovely anons! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to write this, you’re amazing! <3

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 21: Hey, It’s a Party, Lets All Get Kidnapped!

Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve worked on these. I’m back from my cross-country travels, I’ve overcome my food poisoning because of said travels, and I did like 2 Inktobers so I’m officially allowed to quit and then never do Inktober again till the end of the month so now that’s over with, lets get back to Yugioh. Thankfully, Joey is here to recap for us what has been going on so far in the show, via a phone call to his sister where he literally started off the episode saying this line.

It is episode 21, Joey has run out of excuses, and the crew has decided that now is the time to finally find their friend who definitely is being tailed by a murderer with psychic powers.

Because no one wants to ever call the cops on this show.

I can see why Yugi and Grandpa might not, since Pharaoh may have done some criminal nonsense before he reformed at the end of S1 (I mean Season Zero isn’t not NOT canon) and I can see why Joey might not because bro mentioned that he had some sort of dealing with the mini-Yakuza or something in Season Zero (I look forward to that). Tristan already thinks he is a cop so I can see why he doesn’t either. But maybe Tea should call the police. She doesn’t work at the must-be-18-to-work-here-so-it’s-probably-a-stripper-joint-after-10-PM burger place anymore, she’d be fine. Probably.

I mean they did illegally invade a country last season and was complicit in the removal of that country’s leader’s right golden eyeball so like...yeah...

But now that Yugi has the company of three people inside of his head and Kaiba alongside him--who is always communicating with Mokuba on his jacket walkie talkie (like he went out of his way to make a jacket that has solely one function because it clearly doesn’t keep him warm without those arms--and the function is to call up his little brother and complain about the people who are two feet away and can hear him complaining about them), but this means Yugi actually has more people in his 2-person party than the other crew of 4 people. Anyway, he’s certainly not lonely.

But first we gotta throw Tea’s phone around and have some comedy hijinks.

(read more under the cut)

Tea x Cell Phone giving me more energy than Tea x Yugi but that’s actually true of every teenager and their intense relationship with their phone. Accurate. Hell, it’s true of me as an adult.

I also love how they throw this phone in our face just to remind us how neither Yugi has called Tea or how Tea could easily call Kaiba AKA the guy in charge who knows where everyone is, since he’s in their High School phone book, but wtv. We gotta first sort out who’s gonna pick up Serenity from the hospital although her bandages aren’t even off yet.

We’ve already clarified how dangerous this whole tourney is, and the fact that during these finals they might be ground zero for when the world might actually stop functioning entirely, maybe don’t throw your blind sister into the mix? Girl has enough problems right now. Maybe keep her in the hospital preemptively. Y’all are probably going to end up there anyway. She can book you a reservation.

I do appreciate the Tristan stance in this shot.

Anyway, sensing that the crew might actually do something, Bakura decides to show up and make some mad insane nonsense again. Ah, our wild card, Bakura, our Charlie Kelly.

Lol What? His big master plan is to feign an injury? (I’m assuming this is fake? But he’s also sweating a whole lot? Maybe they had a fight club behind the scenes that got edited out?) But you know, if you’re gonna try to sell a broken arm then wouldn’t you want to like...wear an sling?

Wtv, we’ve already learned from last season that literally all these people are the very worst boy scouts and would absolutely die in the woods. Apparently they would also absolutely die if they had to administer actual first aid rather than vague card magic. I was kinda thinking that Marik miiiight be a better scout from all his tomb runs, but from the looks of it he’s too busy being as incompetently evil as possible to learn how to tie a simple bandage.

Nice that Bakura waited until the moment Tristan left to start being shady again. I guess that Bakura also remembers that one time that Tristan hulk-punched him so hard - in the shadow realm where mere mortals should not be able to even move - that God-Mode-Bakura passed out for like 45 minutes.

I’m a little confused at how this at all works with Marik’s plan, since it’s really not that hard to abduct Grandpa, but o well, this was the plan they went with. They ARE teens after all, and teens kind of live by the mantra of “I dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I guess it’s less complicated than making sure he watches a haunted VCR tape.

So off Grandpa goes with Bakura, meaning Gramps is probably going to be a card or some other sort of lifeless husk in a few episodes or so. It was a good run, Gramps.

Honestly, Bakura should just heavily suggest Gramps just go back to work the counter of his Super Gonna Curse You Weasley’s Wizard Wheezly’s, you know, the shop he actually owns. That shop who’s name is canonically “Turtle Game” (good name for a card shop, really gets it across. Great business decision.) And really, it’s been 2 days since he’s stayed open past 9 AM. Does he not pay rent? He seriously might not, we do not know who’s the owner of that house/shop. For all we know it’s Yugi’s Dad who is........somewhere?......

And speaking of missing people, the two most direction-less folks in the universe decided to make this show even longer when they could have easily skipped like 8 episodes if they had just crossed the street. Instead, they’re going to backtrack back to the Shamu exhibit while somehow not overhearing Bakura screaming in his British(?) accent.

Sometimes I’m impressed by all the well placed irony in this show. Here come the two God-characters of the A-team. One has the infinite reaches of technology, the other has the infinite reaches of dark magic. They can do anything except navigate a map and find their friends who are within I assume a 10-block radius.

Now I know, I know, Namu’s an actual name people actually have. Much like Mary Jane. Or AceBluntz420. But forgive me, I am from California.

Also I just went down a rabbit hole of K-pop and the only song I could find that said “tree” enough times was “tree of Sephiroth” which was a pretty good banger but not what I was going for. Again, I’m stymied by my naive, elementary level K-pop education. One day I will be a master of K-pop but I am yet just a newbie with a couple of Black Pink and BTS on my Spotify.

One day I will know enough about Kpop to know which of the songs are about romance and which are about weed but alas, I just like looking at the pretty lights and the pretty colors and the fun dancing like a newborn babe.

But anyway, couldn’t help but notice - THAT’S the name he actually chose for himself, huh?

I mean I looked it up and Namu is also a Buddhism reference in Japanese and that’s probably what the show makers were going for, but safe to say, Marik is clearly not a Buddhist. He is literally in charge of a Pharaoh cult. Well, used to be. It seems like Marik’s just out to destroy his own God. He’d be the hero in really any other anime with motives like that. Hm.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Marik wanting to vaguely rule the world I’d probably side with him completely, lets be real. Pharaoh is kind of a huge problem. And while I do like Pharaoh now, it took me kind of a while, and if Marik showed up S1 I’d be like “Yes, finally, please kill the already dead insufferable ghost.”

So, Marik decides to become friends with Joey and Tea.

This sure was a lot of work to become friends with Joey and Tea. Did Marik not realize that if they’re also buds with a guy who is possessed by a ghost, they might have low enough standards that he doesn’t need to jump through any hoops?

Marik could have just walked up and said “hey, remember me? From class?” and these two would have been like “yeaaaah” because it’s been so long since they’ve attended that they would have had no idea that he was never enrolled.

Anyways, Pharaoh’s arrived to scream at the top of his lungs about a bomb threat at a theme park.

Bummer that Mako Tsunami finished his act and I guess went back to his home island on the back of another whale he had parked outside the theme park.

Also it says a lot about what this town goes through that Yugi, shouting about how everyone’s going to die, doesn’t seem to perturb a single member of this audience. They’re just like “shaddup, I’m looking at the large dolphin.”

The total amount of time that Marik could handle being friends with Tea and Joey : maybe about 30 seconds.

Which makes you wonder why he even bothered with this charade, but maybe he just wanted to get rid of Bakura because that guys kind of a mess.

And then just when I thought it would never ever actually happen.

It happened.

I don’t recall any era where non flip-phones had little antennae. I think this was kind of before my time. Good. Finally something on this show that I’m too young for.

Jokes on this mook for thinking he could ever crush a Nokia with his shoe. Actually impossible. I’m sure there’s Nokias that have outlived being run over by a Jeep.

Yo my payphones never had digital minute indicators on it. You can even read the numbers on the numpad? And there’s no gum lodged in the coin slot? This is not how I remember payphones.

Yo second thought, maybe those are 33 seconds and not minutes? Eh, what do I know, I’m a millennial, I don’t really remember how those awful things worked. RIP payphones, you were always spooky and the worst. Like honestly if a ghost Pharaoh would live in anything, it would be a payphone. If you ever had to use a payphone with a phone card, then you’d understand that it’s more an unsolvable puzzle than any puzzle pyramid.

And I guess that Mokuba just felt left out, so he decided to leave his brother and just wander off by himself on a rooftop where there’d be no witnesses?

Mokuba, why are you on the roof? How does everyone in Domino have roof access? And is the internet so bad in this town that you must be on a roof to get any signal?

please admire the leg wraps on this guy’s ankles. They’re like high fantasy legwarmers.

*why ever duel with cards when you can freakin fly*

WOW, KIDS SHOW. That sure is dangling a small child off a helicopter!

And like, Mokuba just hangs there for a while--no joke, he’s just hovering in the background of every shot for kicks and I’m just like...how did this kid’s show get made????? The 00′s was a different time.

This past week I’ve been watching my older brother’s 5 kids and so I’ve been watching their TV shows and youknow The Descendants 2 would have been a very different movie with edgy, rogue helicopters in it. Though I will admit Yugioh could do with a couple more dance sequences. (and Yugioh might legit have better fashion than The Descendants 2, why the hell was Cruella DeVil’s son wearing bright red baggy capri shorts to a cotillion ball? Anyway, I’m putting Descendants on my “possibly recap this later” list.)

I get that the intern who was putting this scene together might not have known about the helicopter incident in the shot right before this when they drew in these people just on the street on their cell but mannnnnnn.

I love the implication that this happens so often to children in Domino that no one freakin cares anymore.

Reminder that Kaiba refuses to believe in magic and has no idea wtf is going on. Like he knows there’s some yummy cards he wants--that’s it. He doesn’t think this is the end of the world, he doesn’t think anyone here is magic. He just thinks Yugi is a super weird kid from Spanish class who's voice keeps cracking and that Marik is some sort of weird mafia boss. He was not expecting this tourney to become kidnapping central and I mean no one could have predicted this next part either.

...

So Marik’s plan, lets just walk through it.

These two loose to Kaiba and Yugi, then these two violently pass out, Pharaoh runs over and shakes up the fat one for a little bit, and then Kaiba and Yugi go to a theme park. These two guys intentionally lost and got beat up for no reason?

And then, he sends the same people who have Already Lost back to Yugi and Kaiba, to use a different deck than the one they used the first time?

Why not use this amazing deck they had the entire time the first time? Why are all of Marik’s plans so roundabout?

I mean I guess they had to lure these two to the roof but not really actually--once you beat Yugi in a game then boom the puzzle is yours so you don’t actually have to...whatever, they’re on a roof and and it’s edgy and it’s scenic and it’s gonna get real Jack Baur on us.

oh man this workaround to “but they never actually go splat because they die before they hit the bottom” which is infinitely worse than actually just falling down.

So seeing no other solution, they decide to endanger the lives of hundreds of people and play this exploding rooftop version of Yugioh.

I mean last season we sure did go through a lot of time trying to get Kaiba off a ledge of a tall building and now he’s just...back on that ledge. Well. OK then. These kids and ledges.

Really was a line in the show that Kaiba listed the only two things these guys have done wrong and it’s like--well they used the wrong deck the first time. That was probably actually a really big thing they did wrong. Also they could have kept Pharaoh in an infinite rock-paper-scissors loop but passed up on the opportunity. TBH these guys make a lot of mistakes but we’ve been over this before, Kaiba can only remember 2 things. Weird that this has become canon, but here we are.

I guess Kaiba suddenly remembered he had a grudge.

He forgot for a few episodes, but the grudge is back. He must have written it on the back of his hand “don’t forget you hate Yugi” and then when he went to  scratch an itch was like “OMG I can’t believe it, I forgot again!”

That bean.

Anyway, next week, on Yugioh:

Does Kaiba’s helicopters get into a helicopter fight with Marik’s helicopters and keep Mokuba dangling there the entire time? Does Joey get to throw a couple mooks over his shoulder like that time he took on 18 ruffians in a warehouse or will these ruffians be too ruffian even for Jo? Will Tea, after her hearts been consumed by darkness, and she becomes a nobody or a heartless or whatever, realize that she’s dating a dark wizard this entire time so it literally doesn’t matter?

Anyways, I mentioned K-pop so here you go, a moment of happy handsome boy Zen in this overwhelming world.

[mikotyzini]

The Quest for Fluffy - A Bumblebee Oneshot

Happy Valentine’s Day!  Enjoy some Bumblebee fluff :D

"Howwwww about this one?"

Springing herself onto the soft cushion, she sighed in relief at the pleasantly firm yet squishy material now supporting her weight.

This one - this one was perfect.

Watching Blake eye the object with an intensity usually reserved for strangers trying to pander goods in the park, Yang giggled at how absurdly long it was taking her partner to make the decision to even allow the questionable material to touch her.

"Well come on, it's not gonna bite you," Yang prodded, patting the space beside her invitingly.

Finally taking the bait, Blake decided to join her on the display mattress in the showroom they were currently browsing, but...no sooner had the girl's coattails touched the foamy surface did she pop right back up again.

"Nope - not that one."

Slack-jawed, Yang watched Blake walk away from her and the completely comfortable, if not heavenly, creation of high density foam and...whatever else mattresses were made of.

"What do you mean, that's not the one?" she shouted in disbelief, jumping down from her perch and jogging several paces to resume her place by Blake's side. "That one was super comfy!"

A distracted "hmm" was Yang's only response as Blake carefully read the display tag on the next contender - reading the entire description in full before delicately pressing a hand down on the mattress' surface, picking her spot as carefully as if there were invisible bear traps taped to the surface. Lifting her hand and dutifully watching the hand-shaped indentation disappear, Blake made a dejected noise before walking away without any further explanation.

Hopping onto the rejected mattress, Yang flopped backwards to soak in the full effect of the spine-hugging frame.

So cushiony...so cozy...so what was wrong with it?

"Blakeeeee-"

Whining the girl's name, she ran to catch up again - finding Blake already two more mattresses down the first row in the massive mattress warehouse.

Honestly, Yang had had a much different expectation for today than how it was currently playing out. She was going mattress shopping. With her extraordinarily attractive girlfriend. To complete the furnishing of the apartment they'd just moved into together. Seriously, did it get any better than that?

But apparently she was a complete pushover when it came to the slab of foam gracing her bed frame. The very first mattress, at the very entrance to the store, won her over the instant she'd thrown her Girmm-battered and bruised body upon it.

On the other hand...her tough-as-nails, ex-White Fang badass of a girlfriend was not so easy to impress.

"So, um, Blake?" Yang asked as yet another mattress was dismissed after failing the 'handprint' test. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"The perfect mattress…" Blake mused in response, studying yet another tag while seeming to pay little attention to the question.

"Yes, but what makes a mattress perfect?" Yang pressed more forcefully this time.

Blake finally turned towards Yang then - amber eyes and undivided attention being given without a second thought. At first, it seemed like the question was confusing to Blake - but then there was the slightest of twitches in one adorably fuzzy ear that gave away the faintest smidge of embarrassment.

"It needs to be extra...fluffy."

"Extra flu...wait, fluffy?"

While Yang was rooted to the floor in her current state of incredulity, Blake brushed past on her way to the next aisle of the showroom.

"Yes, fluffy."

"Fluffy like...like a -"

Cat-like eyes locked onto Yang again, only this time flashing very seriously in an unspoken sign of impending danger.

"Like a what, Yang? What do you associate fluffy with?"

"Uhhh….clouds?"

Had her voice not come out so high-pitched and squeaky, that would've been the perfect answer. Instead, Yang earned a playful glare from Blake before she continued with her shopping.

"I like fluffy things - is that a crime?"

"Of course not!" Yang immediately replied, before unwillingly letting out a few chuckles at the tiny amount of irony at that assertion. "But Blake, really! It's kinda funny, right? That you love fluffy things, and you're a - well, you know - a...uh, battle tested killing machine?"

For the love of all that was holy, she needed to never say the word 'cat' again. Or even think it. The murderous look she'd garnered towards the end of her rambling had nearly turned her into a giant, blonde chunk of immaculately sculpted stone.

With a sigh, Blake turned fully towards her, crossing those oh-so-lovely arms across that oh-so-lovely chest.

"Yang -"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry!" Yang butted in preemptively, knowing an apology-type situation when she fell face first into one. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't realize that your derrière was so tend-ère!"

As a few more chuckles escaped her, she caught the faintest of smiles flitting across Blake's lips - letting it slip that Blake wasn't in any way upset, but was actually silently enjoying Yang's continued bumbling way of speaking before thinking.

But that didn't mean Yang would escape without a talking to.

"Yang, have you ever slept on the ground?"

"Well, yeah, all the -"

"When it's not covered in grass?"

Images of warm nights spent on the plush, green grass in her backyard with her trusty yellow sleeping bag immediately disappeared from her mind - replaced by the sidewalk out front.

"Um…"

"Or on top of a moving train?"

"Well -"

"In a tree? And a treehouse doesn't count."

"Dammit. No…"

"Or on a rooftop - without blankets? In the middle of winter?"

"Jesus! Blake! When did you do that?"

The comment finally made Blake suck in a deep breath before flashing one of those ever-patient smiles Yang's way.

"I'll tell you about that later - what I'm trying to say now is that sleeping in those places taught me to appreciate a nice, fluffy bed whenever I was afforded the luxury of one. This is the first mattress we're buying together, for the first bed we'll share together. I want it to be perfect so that when we go to sleep, together, safe and sound after whatever the world has thrown our way, I can feel exactly how far we've come."

Blinking after Blake finished talking, Yang opened her mouth to respond only to close and open it once more. It felt like a hundred tiny little arrows had just lodged themselves through her heart, each one fired with deadly accuracy through the disarmingly honest words Blake had just shared.

There was nothing that pushed Yang to action more than one of Blake's mini-rants...and this was certainly no exception.

"Then we're going to find the fluffiest bed in the universe, dammit!" Yang proclaimed, quickly drawing Blake up into a tight hug before setting her feet carefully back on the ground and pulling her towards the next mattress.

"This one's gotta be more fluffy," Yang presumed, waiting as Blake tried out the top of the pad - only to again shake her head with a firm 'no.'

"Not fluffy enough…"

Trying out the mattress herself, Yang shook her head in disbelief. It made no sense what Blake was searching for, but if this one wasn't fluffy enough, then it wasn't fluffy enough!

Hand-in-hand, they continued to the next selection.

"Hey," Yang said, just as Blake was about to test it out, "Do you remember that time you cut down three Ursa with one swing of Gambol?"

The question brought a curious gaze her way.

"Yes...why?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Yang suppressed the urge to giggle at the juxtaposition between battlefield Blake and bedroom Blake. In a fight, Blake was a tiger - agile, fast, predatory, with claws that cut to the bone (if not through it). But at home, Blake was much more like a...well, a little kitten. She liked a quiet life, loved to snuggle, and was incredibly slow getting out of bed.

"You're a really amazing huntress, you know that?" Yang concluded, flashing a big smile at a statement she wholeheartedly believed to be true.

Of course, Blake's 'uh huh…' response signified that she knew the compliment was meant to cover up for something else, but the subject was dropped in favor of testing the newest mattress before them.

"This one isn't fluffy at all."

After letting out a sigh of despair at their lack of success, Yang suddenly had an idea - a brilliant idea, if she said so herself.

"What if we stacked one on top of the other?" she suggested, pointing to the two recent mattresses in front of them.

"I don't think that will work…"

"But we won't know until we try, right? Come on, let's at least try it!"

Without waiting for an answer (she knew Blake would agree anyway, eventually…), Yang reached down and easily pulled one of the mattresses off of the standard bed frame it had been resting on and dropped it on top of the other.

"There!" she said, grinning in satisfaction while dusting off her hands as if that had actually been hard work. "Try it out now?"

It was only after a slight eye roll that Blake pressed down on the mattress before once again shaking her head.

"It's pretty much the same - still not fluffy," she replied, before giving Yang a smile brimming with appreciation.

Her ingenious idea had just been dashed to pieces, but she could care less as long as Blake was looking at her that way. Even when her ideas were dumb or pointless, Blake still appreciated the thought and effort. Blake appreciated Yang's attempt, no matter how useless it ended up being. Which meant Yang was always trying, in anyway possible, to give Blake everything she ever dreamed of or wished for.

That was the whole thought behind the rather exorbitant phrase Yang proclaimed on a daily basis.

'For you, Blake, anything.'

Even when it was said as a joke, or as a tease, Yang truly meant it - as much as she had when she'd first whispered the words into Blake's ear that one night at Beacon...when it had been just the two of them standing beneath the stars with nothing but cleared air between them.

For Blake, she would do absolutely anything. Even if that meant she had to turn what should have been a run-of-the-mill shopping trip into a quest of epic proportions.

It was only when she turned her attention back to that quest and away from Blake's mystical amber eyes that she noticed the myriad of curious glances being directed their way by the other shoppers lingering about.

"Jeez, you'd think they've never seen a double-stacked mattress before…" she joked as they walked to the next contender, reaching down to take Blake's hand in her own as they went.

"No, Yang, they've probably just never seen a girl pick up a full size mattress by herself," Blake responded with a laugh, giving Yang's hand a light squeeze at the same time.

Boy, did Blake ever know how to inflate Yang's ego…

Of course, after having been partners for years, Blake also knew exactly how to bring Yang crashing back down to earth if she ever got too cocky - most of the time in the form of several perfectly timed spin moves and shadow clones that disguised the impending roundhouse kick that would rock her world.

"This one - this one looks like a winner!"

Maybe the root of the problem was that she wasn't 'selling' these good enough. Maybe she needed to add some allure to the mattresses to make them appear fluffier.

Well, it was worth a shot. Nothing else seemed to be fluffy enough!

"The…"

Squinting briefly at the tag, Yang read some of the information before moving in front of it with a grand flourish of her free hand, beaming in response to the pleased smile Blake was giving her.

"The Emperor II, Moonlight Plus, all-season mattress!"

(It looked exactly the same as every other mattress they'd looked at, but it was all about the presentation, right?)

Gently drawing Blake to the side of the bed, Yang slowly waved one hand over the quilted surface - palm facing upward like she'd seen on commercials.

"Kindly take in the...uh…"

Craning her neck backwards, she read the next few bullet points from the tag before turning back to her still-grinning girlfriend.

"Take in the three padded layers of 'Cloud9' memory foam, the extra special 'Cooling Gel' technology, the waterproof stitching -"

With the last selling point, Yang gave Blake a wink, receiving her eye roll and smile in response before continuing with gusto.

"It's the best of the best - the highest of hi-tech - the fluffiest of the...uh, fluffy," she proclaimed, smiling when Blake laughed out loud - the sound still music to her ears. "It even has 'cloud' in the name - it must be the fluffy you're searching for!"

With that, Yang gestured for Blake to give it a try, same as she'd been doing all day.

"Quite the presentation," Blake commented while taking a single step closer to the bedframe, one hand still clasped firmly within Yang's. "You have a second career in the making, I can feel it."

"Please - you want me to sell beds to people all day long?" Yang replied with a laugh before continuing in her best 'fake salesman' voice. "I understand you're unsure about this mattress, ma'am, it is a big investment. Why don't you go home and sleep on it?"

Blake groaned at the pun, but Yang wasn't done yet.

"Oh, you suffer from insomnia? No worries! With one of our top-of-the-line mattresses, you'll be having bedder days in no time - or should I say, bedder nights!"

"I've changed my mind!" Blake cut in with another laugh (Blake always laughed at Yang's puns - why else would Yang keep making them?). "You can't work here anyway, because then who would be my partner?"

Licking her lips and leaning closer - close enough to watch the dark pupils in Blake's eyes widen ever so slightly - Yang lowered her voice to nothing more than a whisper.

"Well...I guess you'd have to follow me into the bed...selling business, wouldn't you?"

Grinning at her attempt at wit, Yang grew serious when she recognized the look in Blake's eyes, one full of love - love for her.

"Yang, I'd follow you anywhere."

If anyone knew how to leave her without words, it was Blake.

Never before had she been able to lose herself in someone else's eyes, but she still found herself doing so with Blake daily. It was as if those wonderful amber orbs erased the world around her, leaving nothing but the two of them in each other's embrace.

It was amazing, surreal...and broken as soon as Blake's eyes flitted to someone or something behind Yang's left shoulder.

"Hey, maybe we should ask that clerk for a suggestion?"

Without thinking, Yang reached out and snatched the store employee before he could pass - and when she said 'snatched,' she meant grabbing the guy by the shirt, lifting him off the ground, and setting him back down directly in front of them.

"We need the fluffiest mattress you have," she said, ignoring his widened eyes at what she'd just done. "Like, I mean, fluffier than everything."

"H-have you tried the...pillow top section?"

Following the direction he pointed in, Yang grinned when she saw the large sign that read simply 'pillowtop' on the other side of the store.

"That's it, Blake! That's gotta be it! The holy grail of fluffy!"

Her feet were already marching quickly that way - pulling a softly giggling Blake along by the hand. Before they'd moved too far away, she turned back and gestured for the store clerk to follow them, just as the young boy had been about to slip away.

As soon as they were underneath the sign advertising mattresses with pillows on top, Yang pulled Blake to the nearest one and gestured for her to try it out. Which Blake did - and this time she didn't immediately pull her hand away - opting instead to let it linger in the air above the mattress as if she might try it out one more time.

"So?" Yang pressed, not having the patience to wait much longer for Blake's answer.

"Well...that is actually somewhat fluffy…" Blake responded carefully, before pressing her hand into it one more time.

Excitement suddenly exploded through Yang's veins, the type of excitement she always felt before completing a mission, taking down a large enemy, or accomplishing something she'd thought was going to be impossible.

She could feel it now. They were on the cusp of something…

"Which one of these is the fluffiest?" she asked the clerk, drawing his full, somewhat nervous attention back to her.

"Like the...thickest pillow top? Uhh...well that'd be this one…"

She obediently followed the boy several spots over, drawing Blake closely along behind her.

This one actually looked a little bit fluffier than most - with the pillow top being several inches thick on top of a regular mattress.

"Try it out!" Yang said, prodding Blake forward as the clerk made room for her to move past.

It was on bated breath that Yang watched Blake press her hand into the mattress once...twice...three times to test the pressure. This was already further than any other mattress had made it thus far - putting them in completely uncharted territory. Yang had no way of knowing what to expect next, so used to the answer 'not fluffy enough' had she grown...

With a brow wrinkled in concentration, Blake painstakingly, almost cautiously, turned around and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Well?" Yang asked, praying that they'd finally found 'The One.'

"Hmm…" was all Blake said before scooting further back onto the mattress, her feet lifting off of the showroom floor and doing what had seemed to be the unthinkable just minutes earlier - laying down on the bed.

And then she sighed - one of those long sighs of relief that was almost exclusively reserved for the end of a particularly rough day of Grimm hunting, when they'd finally trekked their way back home, removed their stained combat gear and sunk into a steaming hot bath.

"This is perfect."

Letting out a loud 'whoop!' of satisfaction, Yang turned and gave the salesman an enthusiastic high five, moderately chuckling at the brief flicker of pain that crossed his face from the force she'd put behind it.

('Not so hard, you buffoon!' she could still remember Weiss screeching at her. 'Not all of us have bludgeons for hands!')

Taking two steps, she launched herself from her feet, flying through the air before landing on the mattress with a rather surprising amount of bounce. Normally when she jumped into bed (which, admittedly, she did a lot), the mattress would hold her body down on the initial landing, but this bed...well, she fully lifted off before settling down for good.

Once settled, she rolled onto her back and wiggled to test the resistance.

"Wow…"

Now she could see what Blake had been talking about. There was fluffy. And then there was fluffy.

"You like it?"

Turning onto her side so that she could look at Blake, she grinned at that question.

Man, did she ever like it…

"This is incredible," she freely admitted.

"You're incredible," Blake immediately sent back at her, leaning forward to place a quick kiss to her nose.

Taking only a second to bask in their most recent success, Yang quickly lifted her head to find the clerk who still hadn't managed to slip completely away.

"Can this be delivered?" she asked, halting the boy in his retreat.

"Um, yeah, yes it can be - is that the one you'd like?"

Glancing at Blake and receiving a nod, Yang smiled.

"Definitely," she answered before flopping back onto the bed beside her girlfriend, content to forget his existence for now.

"Can't believe they do same-day delivery for free!" she said, voice raised so that it would carry out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where Blake was currently getting dressed for bed.

"Pretty sure he just didn't want you to come back," came the teasing response, making Yang laugh while running a brush carefully through her hair.

"Which I would have if they'd been late," she commented with a self-satisfied grin. "And then I could've given him the handshake of death!"

Holding one hand up in front of her, she curled her fingers into as tight of a fist as she possibly could, hearing a couple of joints and knuckles pop in the process.

Dropping her hand, she went back to her hair - running the brush through it in slow, methodical strokes that wouldn't snag or pull. It was only a few minutes later that she was content with how silky her hair felt, so she dropped the brush on the counter and moved towards the bathroom door, flipping off the lights as she walked back into their new, shared bedroom.

"Hey, think Weiss will be mad that we used her credit…"

The question trailed off at the sight in front of her - one very tired Blake Belladonna, curled up and very much passed out upon their new bed. It was the kind of sight that always made her go 'awwww….' Like seeing a kitten at the pet store sleeping in its little hammock bed…

Don't ever mention that comparison to Blake. She'd make Yang sleep on the roof in no time…

All the same, it was endearing to see - and marked the success of their day in one single sight.

Carefully climbing into bed beside the sleeping beauty, Yang laid down on her side and took in the rarest of views anyone would ever find.

This was Blake Belladonna - master of shadows, of escapes, of appearing out of nowhere with a kick to the face. The girl who was impossible to find, impossible to catch...

Slowly reaching out, Yang used one finger to carefully push a strand of stray raven-colored hair behind one delicate ear - grinning when her finger barely grazed the skin there, eliciting a small flick of one feline ear in subconscious acknowledgement.

"Goodnight, Fluffball," she whispered before leaning forward to place one last kiss to Blake's forehead, backing away quickly when Blake unexpectedly shifted position.

"I may be sleeping...but I'll still strangle you…" came the sleepy reply, making Yang let out an unexpected laugh of surprise.

Yang should've learned by now that even when Blake was sleeping, she was still awake.

Death threats or not, Blake nonetheless scooted closer, nuzzling into Yang's collarbone and allowing herself to be wrapped in Yang's arms. Rubbing her hands gently up and down Blake's back before finally settling into place, Yang held Blake tightly as they drifted off to sleep on a brand new mattress that was fluffier than air.

"Love you too, Blake...I love you too."