#i know factually that i do but oh my god i don’t want to talk about all this stuff. i don’t want to cry. and i WILL cry

[fingertipsmp3]

No one:

Evil Kermit in my head: cancel therapy

[handmade-witch]

Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:

Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.

[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!

Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.

Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

[Y/N]: I—

[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

☆☆☆

Draco: I have an idea.

[Y/n]: A good idea?

Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

☆☆☆

*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*

Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?

Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.

Mattheo: Yeah, me too.

Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.

☆☆☆

[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.

Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.

[Y/N]: Stop it.

Mattheo: I’m home lethally.

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.

Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

☆☆☆

[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?

Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

☆☆☆

Theodore: What is wrong with you?

Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.

☆☆☆

Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!

Blaise: On my nerves.

☆☆☆

Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.

The Squad: How so?

Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.

☆☆☆

Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?

Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey, are you okay?

[Y/N]: Yeah.

Theodore: You don't look okay...

[Y/N]: Then stop looking.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.

Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

☆☆☆

Draco: You read my diary?

Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

☆☆☆

Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!

Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.

Blaise: Like what?

Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.

Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.

[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lorenzo: Theft.

Blaise: Disturbing the peace.

Theodore: Aggravated assault.

Draco: Arson.

Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably

☆☆☆

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Lorenzo: You and me!

[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.

☆☆☆

Theodore: *yawns*

[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.

Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

[jflemings]

— busted

pairing: jessie fleming x arsenal!reader {piper’s world}

synopsis: sam offers to babysit piper while you go out on a date and decides to drag niamh along. piper accidentally spills the beans on you and jessie’s budding relationship

warnings: none!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🪽 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“y/n!” sam calls as her and niamh enter your apartment. she takes off her shoes and gestures for her teammate to do the same before the sound of small feet pitter-pattering draws her attention.

piper is going as fast as her little legs can carry her, her arms outstretched as she runs towards sam. she’s grinning big and giggles loudly when sam bends down and picks her up, tossing her in the air slightly.

“sammy!” her boisterous giggles bounce off the walls.

“pippa!” sam echoes back

the striker holds piper close to her and points to niamh “you remember niamh, don’t you?”

piper nods and waves “hi niamh”

the defender softly says hi back just as you stick your head around the corner “oh my god thank you so much for doing this” you thanks as you lean down to zip up your left boot “i’m sorry it’s so last minute, i’ll get you both something to make up for it”

“don’t worry about it” sam waves off “i’d do anything to spend time with piper, and niamh here was just sitting at home” you says jerking her thumb behind her.

you pat yourself down and check your purse to make sure you’ve got everything before running a finger under your eye “i shouldn’t be back too late” you assure the duo.

sam nods “tell me again about this date”

you roll your eyes “there’s not much to tell. we met through a mutual friend and hit it off”

“and when can i meet this mystery woman?” she cocks her brow

you pause and bite your lip before shrugging “i’ll let you know”

sam rolls her eyes as you redirect your attention to niamh, smiling briefly “there’s left over pasta in the fridge but i’ve also left money on the counter if you wanna order in, she’s been fed and bathed, bed time is eight thirty, and if she wants a snack there’s a variety in the cupboard” you tell the two chelsea players as you grab your coat “and do not let her bully you into allowing her to stay up late” you point at the both of them.

niamh’s hands go up in surrender “got it. food in fridge, bed at half past eight, snacks in the cupboard, don’t let her bully us” she lists off, earning a nod of approval from you.

“you’re a natural” you playfully wink at her before kissing piper’s head “be good for sammy and niamh. i don’t want any trouble” you say pointedly

piper nods her head “you be good too, mummy” she says as she lays her head on sam’s shoulder.

you usher the two women further into your apartment as you check your phone, your eyes widening at the realisation that you’re going to be late. you blow your daughter a kiss and wave the three of them goodbye, closing the door and leaving them to their own devices.

“have fun on your daaaaate!” sam calls out as you shut the door, smiling smugly to herself.

over her shoulder, niamh and piper share a look “you wan’a colour?”

two hours later sam is sitting on the floor of your lounge room with multicoloured clips in her hair. piper holds onto her shoulder as she focuses on finding a place for a sparkly butterfly clip.

she clips it in the front of sam’s hair and then holds out her small hand “‘nother please niamh” she says politely.

“of course” the defender says whilst trying to hold in her giggles “another butterfly?”

piper stops to think for a minute “yes please”

sam flicks through the kids section on netflix patiently “what do ya wanna watch, kiddo?”

“turtles please” piper answers as niamh hands her a blue butterfly clips “blue for cheelseaaa” she drags out as she carefully placed the clip in sam’s hair.

sam finds the animated ninja turtle show piper’s talking about and smirks “blue for chelsea because we play for chelsea?”

“no” she says matter-a-factually “blue for chelsea because jessie plays for chelsea”

niamh stills for a moment “you know jessie?”

sam nods her head “i introduced them a—”

“of course i know jessie” piper interrupts dramatically “jessie has sleepovers!”

the two women pause and share a look. niamh raises her brows as sam shrugs her shoulders, the two of them having a wordless conversation.

piper, being none the wiser to it, continues “and colours with me and plays with me” she goes on, holding out her hand again.

niamh’s on auto pilot as she hands the toddler another clip, her unblinking expression identical to sam’s.

“all done!” piper cheers as she claps her hands, holding up a hand held mirror to sam so she can look at her hair. sam takes the mirror and nods her head before turning to piper.

“do you see jessie all the time or just sometimes?”

“all the time” piper nods ���mummy and jessie go out sometimes so i get to go to stephy”

niamh’s eyes go wide “and mummy and jessie… are they—”

“mummy and jessie are bestest friends” piper giggles as she situates herself in sam’s lap “they say so all the time”

the two chelsea players share another confused look but don’t push it any further with the toddler, choosing to sit back and watch the show she’d chosen instead.

despite the colourful animation on the screen in front of her, sam’s mind was going a million miles a minute. she loved jessie dearly but she knew what you went through when you got pregnant with piper. the internal conflict that plagued your pregnancy had taken a toll on you, as did the fact that your ex wanted nothing to do with you or your sweet little girl, and sam didn’t want a repeat of that happening. hell would freeze over before she watched you get treated like that again.

it only took thirty minutes for piper to be sprawled out in sam’s lap, her little limbs poking sam’s body awkwardly. the striker brushed some hair out of her face before standing carefully, adjusting her grip so that piped was situated comfortably on her chest.

she walks down the hall to piper’s room and tucks her in before turning on her little fairy lights. she stands in the doorway for a minute to ensure that she hadn’t woken the child up before cracking the door and walking back out to the living room.

“did you know—”

“no” sam replies as she sits on the couch next to niamh “i had no clue”

the defender kisses her teeth “are you worried?”

sam pauses for a moment, scrubbing her hand over her face before releasing a sigh “no” she says, dropping her arm on the armrest “not for the reasons you might think, anyway”

niamh nods and fidgets with the remote, the animated teenage mutant ninja turtles show still playing in the background. “so… the issue isn’t jessie?”

“no, god no. well—” sam shakes her head “no” she says firmly before looking to niamh.

niamh smirks “so you won’t be mad at me if i call jessie right now?”

“to do what?” sam asks puzzled.

you and jessie walk with your arms linked, the both of you bundled up and huddled into eachother as you walk to her car. you shake your head and laugh as jessie tells you a story from her ucla days.

“you left her on the front lawn?” you laugh

jessie throws her head back “no!” she exclaims “she told me she was getting her own way back to our dorm so i left early. it was only when i woke up the next morning and she wasn’t there that i ran back to the frat house”

“teagan gets pretty wild” you muse “i can’t believe she got you to go to a frat party”

the canadian groans “more than once, and i ended up leaving early almost everytime”

“almost?”

jessie blushes wildly and looks away from you briefly, clearly recalling a memory she doesn’t want to think about “yes” she says quietly.

you duck your head slightly “jeeesssieee” you draw out teasingly, nudging your shoulders together.

she’s about to answer you when her phone buzzes in her pocket. she stops the two of you and pulls her phone out, frowning when she sees niamh’s name on her screen. the two of you look at eachother and shrug before she answers “hello?”

“jessie!” you hear niamh yell down the other line “how’s your night going? what are you up to?”

jessie’s eyebrows furrow in suspicion “it’s fine, not much going on. why? what are you doing?”

“sam and i are babysitting” she answers, allowing jessie to hear the smile in her voice.

the midfielder’s face drops ever so slightly and she looks at you intensely. you feel your stomach fall and you can’t help but grip jessie’s arm tighter.

“real cute kid, very polite” the defender trails off “how’s y/n?”

all the colour drains from jessie’s face and her eyes go wide. you can see the panic across her face and you wave your free hand about trying to get her to try to explain whatever niamh was telling her.

it’s like jessie’s brain has completely disconnected from her mouth “who’s y/n?”

you drop jessie’s arm and cover your face with both hands as she grimaces. the canadian bites one of her knuckles as niamh goes silent on the other end of the phone and she wonders if she can just hang up now.

“jessie” a thick australian accent says “put y/n on the phone please”

“okay” jessie says quietly before holding out the phone “it’s for you”

you purse your lips and take the phone off her “niamh”

“nope”

you screw your eyes shut “hey sammy, how’s piper?” you ask as cheerily as you can “did she get to bed okay?”

“fell asleep in my lap whilst watching ninja turtles” she answers “how’s your date going?”

“good” you answer whilst nodding “i’ll, uhm, be home soon”

“perfect!” she perks up “tell jessie to come up with you when she drops you off”

you look at jessie who’s biting her nails nervously and watching you like a hawk, looking for any sign that sam’s unhappy with the two of you. you suddenly feel like you’re back in highschool getting scolded by your mother for ending up drunk on your high school’s oval instead of sleeping at your friend’s house like you told her. you frown and pull jessie’s hand away from her mouth before holding it in your own.

“okay” you sigh deeply before hanging up and handing jessie’s phone back to her.

she pockets it and squeezes your hand “is it bad?” she asks nervously.

you squint “i’m not sure” you say huddling into her again “but it’s just sam, so, probably not”

[cherryredstars]

OH MY GOD REQUESTS ARE OPEN💃🏾💃🏾

gosh cherry i love you and your blog sm it makes my day😭

could i please have a college or highschool au where reader studies subjects like social science and business and literature and he does stem subjects and he at first has like a superiority complex, he doesn’t intend to, but he can’t help it, until he sees the reader like talk about social issues or how she can remember 17 step procedures and shit and he’s like…wow. maybe they can be together and he sees her pretend to teach people to learn and he’s learning stuff from her and it’s wholesome asf

god i don’t know i’m sorry im rambling😭😭 you don’t have to ofc but thank you anyway

and again, love you!!

Thank you, love!!!

He's the smartest person he knows.

It's not narcissistic if it's a fact. He's the top of his major program, already has offers for Ph.D programs nationwide mailed to his door. He's sure to get into any genetics department he wants for grad school. He's the star of the industry-path students. He's just that good, and what's the harm in taking pride in your accomplishments?

But he's never met someone like you before.

Usually he wouldn't care for people like you, with their abstract liberal art degrees in nonsense majors that'll just collect dust in a box in an attic somewhere. But there is something so enduring about you, about everything you do. The way you just know what people are thinking based on the twitch of their fingers and why they think it. The way you're so open to everything in a way that would make his lab buddies laugh with their one-way minds. It amazes him, the way your view is so wide in a way that something like genetics or STEM can't comprehend. In a way they don't allow. There is something so breath-taking about the way your mind has this endless freedom that he can't even grasp. Like a kaleidoscope of colors that are simultaneously beautiful and overwhelming to the senses. Something his factual mind craves.

The first time he had seen you, he was in the library. It isn't a place he would usually go to, but he had to collect some textbooks for his professor in the storage closet. He had gotten in a bit of trouble that day for taking so long, but how could he resist when he had heard the sweet cadence of your voice through the open door of a mini-lecture room. Very few students were in the room, it looked like a side presentation; one of those assignments that forced students to present their ideas on a topic to a group of people to try to captivate them into agreeing with your findings. There was a sort of fiery passion in the way you spoke, a hardened steel in your eyes that showed your resistance to back down. It was... enchanting, siren-like. So much so that he had been forced to sit in one of the empty seats in the back of the room, eyes stuck on you as you paced the front of class and rebutted comments from your peers.

He had no idea what you were talking about, but it still had that overwhelming effect on him. One that had him pressing the surface of his stomach against the hard edge of the lecture tables, his senses honing in to hear every last syllable that departed from your lips. There was this dream-like quality to you, something that consumed the mind and made them listen. A sort of intelligence that he would never know or understand. One that he would spend hours trying to learn if you were the one explaining it. He can't remember how long it took for him to start breathing again when your eyes scanned the room and locked onto him, clear confusion on your face at the random presence of college's most-awarded student. He could feel his heart bursting against his ribs, mouth parting slightly from the honor to be the center of your attention for even a few seconds before you looked away and carried on.

Suddenly, he didn't feel like the smartest person in the world. Not when you left him absolutely stupefied.

[lw77]

Diet Pepsi 💈 (LSxMV)

Chapter 1. - Angel

Max wants more than just a sub.

Who knew helping his dad at the shop would become his own personal brand of torture. He knew his dad had regulars, but he thought they’d be – old men regulars not whatever these chippendale escapees were. 

Apparently they’re contractors, who look like every middle-aged woman’s fantasy. Including Logan’s. 

And like clock-work, the group of men enter, a few heading to the drinks and some to his mom’s home-made subs. He hears Danny’s loud laugh, followed by Charles snickering as they tease their other colleague, George, Logan’s mind helpfully supplies, as he shows them something on his phone.

Logan wonders where the other one is, Max, all ruddy cheeks, bright blue eyes and big arms, who’s sadly amiss as he looks towards the floor. 

It’s embarrassing really, how at twenty-one Logan is like a school boy with a crush. If he ever confessed all the things he’s thought, fantasised about or, God, he inwardly groans, dreamt since seeing that man, it would have his Priest drowning him in holy water. 

A tap at the counter knocks Logan out of his thoughts, as he sees Danny in front of him ready to cash out. Like he knew what was going through Logan’s head, Danny’s smile stretched wider, “What’s wrong Logie boy, you disappointed it's just us today?” 

Logan squeaks as he’s caught out, face aflame, “No idea what you’re talking about, um– will that be all?” gesturing to the stack of subs and drinks Danny’s placed on the counter. 

��I think you doooo Logie boy.” Danny croons winking, as Logan speeds up his scanning before Danny can say anything else. It doesn’t stop the man from resting his forearms on the counter and wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re awful, I’m telling my mom not to make any more of her salami subs.” Logan whines, trying to threaten Danny’s favourite sub away in hopes of ending his teasing. 

Danny smiles cheekily in response, “Your mother loves me, she would never do that” as he taps his credit card on the reader. 

Putting the items in plastic bags, “Maybe I’ll just throw them all away then.” Logan says petulantly. Taking the bags from Logan, “Oh come on Logie boy, that would just be wasteful. Now don’t you worry, he’ll be back next week!” Danny shouts with one last wink as he heads out. 

It’s loud enough that Charles and George, who were still hanging by the front, look up and laugh as if they know exactly who Danny is referring to. It makes Logan let out an embarrassed “Danny” as he hears the group’s laughter continue out the store. 

_______________________

Logan is snug in their usual booth, waiting for Alex and Oscar to return with their first round. They’re celebrating Alex’s new job tonight.

“Alright, two pitchers of beer for us and a Sommersby cooler for the princess!” Oscar announces loudly as he sets down their drinks. Logan snatches the cooler and pulls it closer.

“Oh, come on, Logie bear. You know we’re just teasing you,” Alex says, only making Logan scowl more.

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you this week? Did your mom accidentally sew up your fuck-me jeans again or something?” Oscar asks, furrowing his brows in genuine curiousity.

Logan groans and sinks further into his seat. “No, worse.”

“Did she try to set you up with one of her awkward co-op students again?” Alex asks.

Sitting up, Logan protests, “Okay, that was one time! Checo was sweet—he just had really sweaty hands.” Realizing how pitiful that sounds once he says it, he rests his head against the booth's cushion.

Alex and Oscar sit in silence, giving him space to finally share what’s bothering him.

“You know those hot regulars my dad has? The Chippendale escapee contractors? Danny Ricc—you know him, Alex.” Leaning in, Logan hisses, “Well, they definitely know I’m into their friend or colleague, whatever he is.”

“Yeah well, Logan, you’re not exactly subtle. It’s pretty obvious you’ve got a crush on that guy,” Oscar replies, in an all too annoyingly factual tone, Logan decides.

“And your pupils get huge dude when you like someone. There’s no hiding your attraction buddy,” Alex adds, raising his hands in surrender.

“Oh my god, how am I going to face him now that I know his friends know? Meaning, he knows too. So mortifying,” Logan says, fully aware he’s whining when they’re supposed to be celebrating Alex. “Sorry, I’ll snap out of it… or I’ll move out of town.” He says the last part a little too seriously for his friends.

“Anyway, that’s my week. Now—Alex, come on, tell us about the job! The floor is yours.” Logan gestures with a flourish.

Alex and Oscar share a look. “I got hired to consult as an architect.”

Logan perks up and excitedly congratulates Alex, asking where. “At Danny Ric’s company—your favorite!”

“Oh my god, you’re going to be a part of the Chippendale escapees?” Logan squeals, both hands slammed on the table as he leans over in excitement.

Oscar, observing the scene then asks, “Time for a cheers then?”

“To Alex joining the Chippendale escapees!” they cheer, clinking their beers and can together.

“Oh my god, you’re going to work with Max. Alex, you love me, right? You’ll tell me if he ever talks about me, or if he says I’m cute?” Logan continues, getting even more embarrassing. Oblivious to the widening eyes of Alex and Oscar as they glance behind him.

“…Oh my god, he came in muscle tee a few weeks ago and I just wanted to bite his biceps because they looked so big and they are so big—”

“Ow! What the hell, Oscar? We use our words now.” Logan admonishes, bending in his seat to rub where he got kicked. But he freezes as he hears a familiar laugh. Looking up, he sees Danny standing by their table, amused, and oh god, Max, arms crossed and wearing an equally amused expression.

Now looking no better than his best friends, Logan’s eyes are wide, his face is scarlet, and his mouth hangs open in shock as he realizes they must have heard everything—or at least enough. Maybe he can learn to love Checo’s moist, moist, hands because Mexico is definitely far enough.

“Hey, boys, didn’t mean to interrupt your evening. Just came over to congratulate our dear little Alex on joining the company! Our youngest yet!” Danny sings, wiping a tear for dramatic effect.

Meanwhile, Logan, snapping out of his deer-in-headlights look, is now studiously examining the table varnish, hoping the two men forget his earlier soliloquy over the other's (big) arms.

Good-naturedly, Alex invites Danny and Max to join them in the booth, leaving Logan pressed arm to leg against Max, his best friend completely uncaring of Logan’s gay panic.

Logan starts drinking from his can, hoping to avoid any conversation. But before long, Danny, Alex, and Oscar finish the two pitchers and decide they need to get the next round. Logan’s eyes widen as he mentally pleads, *Don’t leave me alone.* But both Oscar and Alex blissfully ignore him.

Staring at his drink as if it's the most interesting thing, Logan catches a glimpse of Max turning his way.

“Heard you missed me at the store.”

Logan looks at him, feeling his cheeks flush. As Alex pointed out earlier, his attraction to Max is probably written all over his face.

“I—um, no, just wondering where you all were,” he stutters, wetting his lips. “Not just you.” He leans back against the wall as Max essentially cages him in the booth, one arm resting on the back and the other bent on the table. Max’s body warmth and sandalwood cologne envelop Logan, blanketing his senses. Max’s gaze drops to Logan’s lips, a small smirk playing on his face, "Really?" he prompts, "Ye-yeah" Logan breathes out, Max's eyes flick up to Logan's at his answer and his lips break into a smile as he replies simply “Okay, if you say so.”  And, all too soon, he leans back, creating some space as the sounds of the bar filter in again, grounding Logan, feeling like he must be in heaven with Max so close.

Clearing his throat as Danny and the others join the table, Logan sits up, gratefully accepting a new can from Oscar, who gives him a knowing look while subtly elbowing Alex. Now both friends are watching him with knowing smiles, taking in his flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

Logan glares back but falters when he feels a big hand settle just above his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. He realises he’s being asked a question. “Oh—I'm sorry, what?” he asks, confused, snapping his gaze to Max. 

It’s Danny, looking past Max with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He repeats his earlier question, fully aware of why Logan is distracted. “I asked if you’re excited to see your best friend every day now. Since your mom’s subs are legendary. And essential to a good work day”

Logan’s disbelief drips from his tone as he asks, “Even if all we have is the veggie one, Danny?” He raises his eyebrows for added effect.

Danny crosses his hand over his heart dramatically. “Even the veggie one, Logie boy! Although some of us come for the service too.” He finishes with a sidelong glance at Max.

Max, whose relaxed against the booth with his body still angled toward Logan and a comfortable hand resting on Logan’s thigh from when he squeezed it earlier to get his attention. At Danny’s insinuation, Max looks down at Logan, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gives Logan’s thigh another gentle squeeze, this time higher up, and shrugs.

The warmth from Max's touch sends a flutter through Logan's stomach, mingling with a simmering feeling in his chest that he can’t quite identify.

Thankfully, Logan is saved from responding as Oscar pulls Danny’s attention away, asking what project they’ll be starting on.

In the most teasing tone he can muster despite his fluster, he whispers, “So, service?” Looking up at Max from beneath his eyelashes.

Max leans in closer, his voice low. “You’re not the only one who's been looking, Angel.”

Logan’s face heats up further. The nickname doesn’t help his battle against arousal or the realisation that he was not subtle at all.

He blinks as he responds with a soft “uh-huh,” nodding his head, his mind feeling like cotton from their proximity and Max’s admission of mutual attraction.

Max’s gaze drifts to Logan’s lips just as Logan nervously bites his bottom lip. He’s on the verge of saying something—or maybe hoping for something more—when a cough interrupts them, making both of them look up at a smirking Danny.

“While the image of you two is a relief, we have to head back. Poker night! We just had to stop to congratulate you, Alex, on joining us.”

Logan, embarrassed by Danny’s comment, groans into his hands, while Alex thanks Danny brightly. Glancing at Danny, as he waits for Max, he leans into Logan’s ear, whispering, “See you tomorrow, Angel,” and with one last squeeze to Logan's thigh he’s out of the booth and heading for the door behind Danny. Leaving Logan bright red, his arousal flashing like a stop sign, and his two best friends laughing at his expression.  

Unhelpfully, Alex says, “Guess this means you don’t have to skip town anymore.” To which Oscar shouts, “Hear! Hear!” Logan can’t help but giggle, his embarrassment fading as he nods in agreement.

Chapter 2 - Hunter?

Chapter 3 - Sunburn

Author's note: So I listened to Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae and I just kept seeing buff/fit Max (white t-shirt, gold cross in blue jeans) and Logan vm baby boy/angel and big blown out eyes and parted lips when Max comes into his dad's store with his co-workers/friends. (i was going for a lil age diff but mostly size difference)

also i was gonna make it hotter but its like jesus had a hand on my shoulder as i got to it. maybe next chapter

[justanotherdrfan]

WELCOME ALL DANNY FANGIRLS TO YOUR INSTALMENT OF DANIEL RICCIARDO’S DTS BREAKDOWN! 🍯🦡

I’m leaving this one open since you all skipped straight to this episode! (I waited and I don’t know how)😂

S6E9 (Three’s a Crowd)

GIF by @arturleclerc

DANNNNNNNNYYY BOYYY 😍😍😍😍😍😍

He’s already laughing (god I love him)

‘Alright, what’s up?, Daniel Ricardo, this is season six drive to survive, and yes I’m back’ (fangirling HARD)

WAIT HE WAS IN SYDNEY, HE WAS IN FUCKING SYDNEY (why did no one tell me I would have called sick at work)

Daniel and Blake I really wish you went ahead with that podcast because you two are poetic chaos together

Cue another Daniel montage (they have his whole discography on file don’t they?)

He looks so fucking tried though

Logan and Alex talking about DTS frothing at the mouth about Daniel returning is the most factually, correct thing I’ve ever heard 😂

Logan: ‘All I know is the most excited people when Danny Ricciardo came back was Netflix.’

Alex: ‘I literally think they had to change their pants three times. I know the episode already. Let…let me run it through. Ready? Here we have Danny Ricciardo watching on the sidelines. “Yeah, it hurts to not be racing.” Then all of a sudden, pans to Nyck de Vries. Lock up. [imitates brakes screeching]. Off the track. Crash. Oh shit! Boom. Fast-forward. Silverstone. Test. Daniel Ricciardo. Super quick. [laughs] Danny looking at it like…big smile on his face. “It is what it is. You know?” [man]“I never left” “I never left. I’m back,baby. Honey Badger. Don’t give a shit.” (Hire him now DTS because he nailed that)

Fuck why they got to follow that shit with Zandvoort though

Daniel whoring about in his Enchante tattoo thigh high shorts

“Feels right. Feels good” (It sure does Danny is sure does)

EVERYONE LOVES DANIEL

And they get him straight to a photoshoot to whore him out

THEY DID NOT USE HIM WINKING IN THE INTRO (da fuck you lot doing? Give the people what they want)

Yes Christian 2025 prospect (he’s a shoe in ahh? See what I did there) 😉👟🍾

FUCK YOU MICAHEL ITALIANO (why is he getting air time) I’m glad he’s left F1

OHH NO OHH NO OHH NO NO NO NO NO NO

IM CRYING AGAIN. I CRIED WHEN IT HAPPENED AND IM CRYING AGAIN

Ohh they have his X-ray

Clairey bear

Cue Liam Lawson (I do love you but I missed Danny terribly)

The others telling Liam to be prepared (this is very welcome to our toxic work environment)

‘She doesn’t even go here’ (a Danica story)

Liam out qualifies all the red bull drivers (yes kiddo)

DANNY BACKS (SCREWS AND ALL) for engineering purposes only

Umm why are you hurting him? DONT TOUCH HIM! (Look yes I know it’s physiotherapy and he needs it. But I’ve broken my hand before the left one as well and driving a normal road car caused me to cry in pain so when I say don’t touch him I mean it)

I SWEAR TO GOD ZAK YOU STAY THEY HELL AWAY FROM HIM

Checo clips Yuki and he’s out (he probably thought it was Daniel trying to take his seat. It’s his in 2025 mate there’s no fighting it)

Ohh look Alpine with reliability issues (things you continue to see)

Yes DTS let’s show Russel’s crash from another angle 😂

POINTS FOR LIAM 🎉🥳

Are we positive he was in Sydney and not Perth?

Yes king SWEAT SWEAT SWEAT

Yuki GP time

Not Suzuka having Daniel, Yuki and Liam on all the banners

Poor Yuki being overwhelmed by the fans. I understand fans being excited but he’s cornered in the car and clearly doesn’t feel safe (and for Michael to be like it’s ok the fans are happy is actually the problem at hand. His and all the drivers safety has to come first and he point blank didn’t feel safe you arsehole Michael so it’s not okay)

Yuki honey it’s okay Liam not going to hit you

If we can’t have an Aussie a Kiwi will do

Liam finding out Daniel’s and Yuki are getting announced for 2024 🥺

Liam mate I’m sorry you deserve better

Mexi-coooooo

HES BACK BACK

Yes yes your P10 in the constructors (just you wait, just you fucking wait)

Checo out before turn 1 (its AUSGP all over again)

Ohh look another McLaren/Alpha Tauri incident 😤

No McLaren the plan is not to attack Daniel (haven’t you fucking done enough?)

P7 BABBYYYYYY

ENCHANTE, MON AMI

See your P8 now (told you to wait and see)

Yes Christian, Daniel did drive a good race (remember that and who didn’t)

Look at him and his little moustache

Will: ‘ I think this is only part one of a far wider story.’ (Yes 2024 season will be epic for Danny Ric)

[frooogscream]

So David making the show gayer and listening to his collaborators... is a bad thing. Even if you weren't twisting his words, you're not making the point you think you are.

I did never say anything like that, what I sad is that the show was never supposed to be so queer in the beginning and that pretty much all of the queer details about the characters came from the queer actors. My conclusion was not “David Jenkins bad because he didn’t want to make a queer show”, my conclusion was “it is beautiful that these queer people poured their hearts into it and created something with a lot of meaning for other queer people”.

Yes I also used phrases like “we were never even supposed to have what we got” and “This show was NEVER supposed to give us beautiful things and treat it’s queer characters with “kindness”! It was NEVER supposed to be for queer people!”, implying that I personally felt like s2 made some choices that I, with my personal experience as a queer person was disappointed in (such as cutting all the poly scenes and killing of the older queer characters right after giving him a coming out arc, in doing so removing an actor who is very vocally supportive of trans people which I, as a trans person appreciate and used the opportunity on convention panels to talk about queer rights and removing the only of the three most central characters in s2 actually played by a queer person, etc.).

But that was just a tiny and implied undertone in an overwhelmingly positive post, in which I praise the cast of the show. And for the record, I DO think that it is great that DJ made these adjustments, I work in theater and occasionally in film and know that it is also not uncommon or bad to make changes as the project evolves and actors flesh out the roles more. I simply pointed out that he is not the one who originally had the ideas to make it this queer and that he originally didn’t plan to let the main queer love story end with a happy ending. Firstly this is not a bad thing, there are a lot of shows out there that aren’t queer, no body is “required” to make queer shows. Secondly where the hell am I twisting his words, he LITERALLY said all of the things I listed as changes towards a more queer show himself and you can find all the interviews linked in the source I gave in my post! Again the over all tone of my post was “oh my god, look what crazy info I stumbled upon and isn’t it fucking fantastic that these gorgeous queers have turned this regular show into something that means so much to us”. And that you manage to take that positive post and read something sooooo negative into it, just because someone dares to say that maybe David isn’t this amazing queer rights activist that some fans make him out to be and didn’t plan on making a revolutionary queer show, is honestly baffling to me.

I am also not “trying to make any point”, this is my personal block with barely 30 followers where I described my personal feelings towards factually true information and my personal feelings are:

I fucking love Vico, I fucking love Con, I fucking love Kristian (also Nathan and every queer person who worked on this behind the scenes) but I’m not gonna kiss David Jenkins feet for something that wasn’t even his idea, I don’t “owe” a cis straight guy who dosnt understand half of why the things his queer cast came up with are so important, gratitude. I gladly and freely extend a big fucking chunk of gratitude to queer actors who put their heart and soul into their queer roles way more then they are required to. Hope this helps.

[therealslimshakespeare]

So hi, just had to drop in and say that I am PUMPED for more MOTA fics from you. Bucky and Buck have such a hold on me😅

I don’t know what the other anon was thinking but I know that if you tackled adding a fem!love interest into the story, you would KILL IT. I loved your thoughts of having them be either a pilot or gunner and seeing how Bucky or buck (whoever the pairing is, react to having their love in harms way (and vice versa)). Maybe even fem!love interest who is a childhood best friend and they’ve been through it all together and then the peril makes them realize OH! I love him/her lol.

MY DARLING ANON, thank you!!! Ugh, I have as much trepidation for writing for this fandom as I have desperate urges to do so, ha! So all the encouragement is very appreciated.

I find this whole concept daunting but at the same time?? I WANT IN ON IT.

I am torn between Bombardier, Pilot, Gunner OR -isn’t the engineer/technician situated behind the pilots? I beg you to think of the ample opportunity’s for popping up and shit talking a la Egan in Episode 3. I’m also totally torn about which boy to write as the love interest? I’m just spilling my guts out here but it’s also a plea for suggestions, haha.

What are y’all’s thoughts on the differences between John and Gale’s reaction to a woman (I don’t think it would matter how romantic their connection was) in harms way? How they respond to said woman’s competency? Is she an experience or do we go full AU and have this as a de-segregated AU?

All this is such fun to sort out. Thank you for popping in, I adore the notion of her being up there with them.

[bellewintersroe]

Curt Biddick x Reader x John Egan

After the death of your partner you fall into the arms of John Egan and must navigate the difficult turmoil of grief and falling in love all over again.

Minor doi, contains explicit scenes, 18+ content between Bucky and reader. Talks of death, grief, heavy topics covered, it’s gonna be a long one, buckle in - some of the dates and information is factually incorrect, some is based off the show and some is from real life accounts - all characters are based off the fictional ones portrayed in MOTA. This isn’t proof read soooo take it easy on me.

August 18th 1944:

“Curt-” you’d stammered out before the pilot could aboard the back of the jeep. The man turned over his shoulder, stepping back to face you once more. With a hand to your hip he closed the distance between you, earning more than a couple stares and jeers from the men aboard the vehicle.

“If anything happens-” you’d hushed, but Curt had cut you off, tracing a finger over your cheek.

“Nothin’s gonna happen, baby.”

“If anything happens.” You inhaled once more, wanting to get your point across. “You promise me you’ll bail. Don’t try to do some heroic move that’ll get you killed.” Your eyes met and Curt instantly felt moved by your words. Your hand had come to rest on his chest, over his uniform, one last touch.

After a few seconds of taking in your worried expression, a nervous Curt began to nod, holding the eye contact that neither of you dared to break. “Promise, baby.” He then spoke, allowing you to breathe once more. Curt stepped a little closer, wrapping an arm over the back of your shoulders to bring you closer. The pilot didn’t care who onboard was watching, the two of you were newly together, blissfully enjoying the honeymoon stage everybody said was oh so nice, but Curt never realized it could be this good.

“C’mon, gimme a good-luck kiss, my darlin’.” Despite the nerves twisting and gripping at your stomach, you’d managed to break a smile, moving up to press a kiss firmly over the plush of his lips, savouring the moment and allowing him to kiss you one, two, three times until you’d broken into a tight embrace, a goodbye.

“I love you.” Curt then uttered those three words, an audible gasp leaving your mouth as you sunk deeper into his front, savouring every last moment you could get. “I love you, Curt.” Leaving things unspoken out here was to play a dangerous game. Not knowing when or if you’d re somebody again, you’d learnt the hard way to be upfront about everything for the sake of these men.

Curt sighed out, feeling the ticking of pressure in the back of his head to get back into the vehicle. Maybe this time was no different, but it felt it. There was a gnawing deep inside of his chest, the air around him was like god-damn pea soup, and his girl had just told him she loved him. It was a time for celebrating, not doubt.

“One more kiss for good luck, darlin’.” He tugged back first, and you’d allowed your lips to press firmly against his, lingering for a few moments as you savoured every second of the kiss, the taste of him, the feel of him, the scent of him. He would be back soon, you reminded yourself. Just one sleep away, like he’d said the night before.

“I’ll see ya’ soon, baby, better be waitin’ for me.” Curt attempted to joke but it fell flat with a slight breath of laughter. You picked him up with that gorgeous smile he couldn’t get enough of, squeezing his hands as he brought you a few steps closer to the vehicle, not prepared to leave just yet.

“I’ll be seein’ you, as soon as I see those planes.”

“Alrigh’.”

With one last hesitant squeeze, you broke off in different directions, pressing your hand close to your chest to keep the feeling of him near your heart, where he would remain for the rest of your life. Maybe if you knew that was the last time you’d see Curt you’d have made a bigger deal, begged him not to go, thrown a fit or faked an injury- but the feeling was never any different from any other time he went up. Each time before he’d returned, right? So why would your gut suddenly be right this time?

War was a twisted and cruel game. When it came to it, it all came down to fate, you knew all too well. And at 11am the same morning, you’d felt a tightness in your chest, radiating through your heart as you’d attempted to rub the area, soothing the feeling.

“Alice.” You’d turned up your fellow nurse that day. “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right…”

With the comforts of your friends in mind and Curt’s fresh admission of ‘I love you’, you’d awaited nearby the tarmac that following day, eyes glued to the sky despite the small yellow patch the sun was burning into your vision. It must’ve been a good hour of pacing on the grass waiting until you noticed the familiar spec of planes in the distance.

“There!” You’d pointed, heart in your chest. Again, you’d gripped at the chest of your uniform, clapping and cheering amongst the children and engineers around you, counting the planes and seeing them come down one by one. The hand squeezing your uniform had become clammy and ached from the tension, there was no ‘Wild Cargo’ plane like you had hoped, in fact there was several missing, and the dusty looking men who hopped out had you frozen to the tarmac below, offering each and every one of them a deadpan stare in an attempt to workout it Curt had just boarded another plane.

Then, the men spilling out began to become less and less, they boarded their jeeps for interrogation, the doctor only fifteen-feet away from you hauled orders to head back to the aid station before the check ups on the men started, but how could you move? Curt wasn’t here.

Only a few meters away, John Egan and Gale Cleven walked around the outside of their planes, patting on the metal, a physical way of thanking the Flying Fortress for keeping them safe through the mission. As they moved around the aircraft, Bucky was first to notice you. You’d teeth bit down against your thumb, other hand gripping at your uniform as anxiety rippled through your body. Johns breath was lost somewhere between his throat and lungs as he picked up the pace to grow closer to you.

“Bucky, we don’t know-” Gale attempted to stop him, knowing Bucky was weak to you, he’d do anything to make you feel better, even if that meant feeding you the same delusions he fed himself in order to stay sane out here.

“No, I know.” Bucky firmly told his friend, nodding in a fake confidence as he sniffled, staring back to Gale. Gale knew there was no arguing, by the time the exchange had happened between the pair, you’d already caught sight of the pair.

“Gale, Bucky!” Your thumb fell from between your teeth as you’d walked over towards the taller men. If anybody knew anything about Curt, it would be them. Bucky felt his heart soften at the sight of you and wince at your apparent distress that you so desperately tried to hide.

“Have you seen Curt?” Gale blinked away, but your eyes were on Bucky, he looked more sure, and maybe you were searching for false hope, but knowing Bucky unconsciously you’d picked the right person to direct the question to. The two men shared a gaze as your stomach sunk, letting out a choke of an exhale.

“They got shot down somewhere north of Regensburg-” Gale began as your mouth dropped open, brows furrowing and a sadness pooled in your eyes like neither of them had ever seen. Bucky couldn’t handle it, seeing your display of emotion. Before he could speak, you’d stumbled out your words again.

“-Well did you see shoots?” Your fist was tightening over your uniform, turning white as you began to tremble, feeling a deep, dark cloud begin to rinse through you. This wasn’t real. None of this could be real. Curt was hit before and ended up in Scotland, he would be okay now, he had to be.

“I saw four.” Gale nodded as a gasp escaped your trembling lips. “Four?” You repeated. Bucky’s mouth was agape, he tried to speak but no words would form as he glanced between you and Buck. Despair and desperation was starting to flood your bloodstream. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or throw up, or both. A fear settled in alongside the shock that ravished your body, making you visibly pale in the face.

“Like I said to, Buck.” Bucky now intervened, slapping Buck on the shoulder who stood still, knowing deep down it was not Biddick who escaped that plane. It was too upright, in control, a pilot had to be present or they would have stalled and nosedived. Looking at your face was too difficult to handle, too many times had he felt grief, experienced pain like no other, but seeing it on somebody else’s face caused the feeling to resurface once more inside himself.

“Curt’s probably drinkin’ a bottle of Schnapp’s waiting this all out.” Bucky approached, resting a hand on your tense shoulder. You blinked away, daring to feel hopeful at his words. Bucky squeezed at your shoulder once more, offering you a gesture of support, finding himself itching to rid your anxiety in anyway possible.

“Look, y/n, you know Curt, he always comes back.” Bucky didn’t think so much about his words as he stepped closer to you. Buck, however, was watching you with such a grief stricken look, it made your feelings conflicted. It was easier to believe Bucky’s words over Buck’s face purely out of the sheer terror that your Curt might not return.

“Yeah.” You’d found yourself agreeing, maybe foolishly. “I saw those chutes.” Bucky repeated, but was cut off with a warning from Gale. “Bucky.”

“What? I saw them for Christ sake!” John, not willing to believe the likely, shook his head back to the more rationale minded Gale. Gale offered you one more glance before moving on, leaving you watching him with an anxious pit in your stomach.

“He really didn’t come back…” your whisper trembled, watching after the blonde haired pilot. All these men, and none of them was Curt. “Hey.” Bucky intervened, placing his hand over the fist that had balled so tight over your uniform, it began to hurt. For the first time, you relaxed, finding it in yourself to glance back up at Bucky, tears beginning to flow down your cheek.

“He’s coming back.” Bucky firmed, wiping at your cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if the statement was to reassure you or lie to himself. Truthfully, yes, he did see chutes, Curt could land that god damn plane with one engine- the idea of his friend not making it was incomprehensible.

Your face dropped as you let out a soft hiccup, heart yearning for the man you’d loved so dearly. “Hey.” Bucky repeated, softening his tone but lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your devastation was apparent. Bucky hated seeing girls cry, let alone somebody like you, his friend. Pulling you in for an embrace, you found yourself clutching at his uniform, reminiscing of the way you’d held onto Curt’s same uniform only twenty-four hours prior.

“I got you, okay? We’ll wait for him.” Bucky hushed, as you desperately repeated in your head that there was chutes. You’d told Curt, bail out no matter what, if all hope failed, you at least shared the promise that he’d bail no matter what. At best, Curt could be in a Stalag, captured and under the command of the Germans for the rest of the war but at least he’d be safe.

Two weeks later:

Bucky stood grimly listening to the news Colonel Harding was sharing as the men stood before him. Curt and Dickie were dead. It had been reported back first from the men at the Stalag who did make it, that Biddick remained in the plane in an heroic attempt to save his gravely ill friend and co-pilot Dickie. Then, the news came that the charred B-17 was found 40 miles north of Regensburg. It was believed Curt didn’t even attempt to bail and went down with their Flying Fortress.

Bucky’s stomach churned at the news, he’d lost focus after hearing the news about his friends. Then, his thoughts turned to you and the words he’d regretfully said to you right after returning from the fateful mission. ‘He’s coming back, we’ll wait for him’ god, Bucky wanted to beat himself up for being such an idiot. Nobody survived this war, nobody.

“I’m going to inform Nurse Y/l/n about the news.” Colonel Harding stiffened. Bucky’s attention snapped back towards his superior at the sound of your name.

“No, that’s ok sir, I’ll do it if that’s possible.” The American spoke up, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. All eyes were on him, including Gale Cleven who dreaded the thought of Bucky having to share such bleak news, going back drastically on his words from before. After the meeting, Gale offered Bucky a slap on the back.

“You know I can talk to her, right?” The blonde man checked as Bucky solemnly gazed around the land, looking for you.

“It’s ok.” He responded, not making eye contact once. “Im the one that told her he’d be okay. It’s on me, Buck.”

Meanwhile, you were returning from a trip home, watching the world pass you as the car drove through the familiar roads of East Anglia. You’d not taken Curt’s absence lightly, and as more time passed, you’d somewhat accepted that his fate was grim, and he was most likely dead. Dark circles rimmed your eyes from the lack of sleep and you’d grown somewhat skinnier from the lack of nutrition. All you could do was stare at the roof, engulfed by darkness as you pictured a million ways how it could have happened.

If Curt was alive, you would have surely heard something by now? Of course who knew out there, he could be on the run, or in a hospital somewhere- you didn’t dare to even dream anymore, any glimmer of hope would just make it even more unbearable when the news did reach Thorpe Abbots.

Carrying your bag, you thanked the driver quietly, walking through the base as the last of summertime sun beamed down on your face. It was a beautiful day, or it should’ve been. Nothing felt the same anymore, and a constant hollow feeling gnawed away at your stomach. Whether it was hunger or anxiety, or both, you weren’t sure. You felt out of tune with your body and completely disassociated, yearning to lay in bed and cry the day and nights away as they passed.

Exhaustion was the norm. As you walked blissfully aware towards your hut, something clenched at Bucky’s chest as he spotted your figure. “I’ll see you, Buck.” Eyes fixated to the back of you, he slapped Gale on the back before hurrying off to speed up beside you.

What would he say? How would he say it? As you opened the door to the nurses hut, he debated just letting you stay in there and let somebody else tell you- the easy way out. No, Bucky thought, jogging towards where the now closing door with a call of your name.

Pulling the wooden frame open once more, you were surprised to see Bucky hurrying over, still clad in his sheepskin coat that he never took off. “Can I-” he choked on his words. “Can I talk to you?” Immediate dread filled your body, and it became apparent from the way he was watching you, this wasn’t going to be good news.

The suitcase in your hand dropped, every limb felt numb as the pilot coerced you gently out of hut with a slight gesture. Your legs turned to jelly and it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t tell me, Bucky.” You pleaded, his arm supporting you as he lead you to the field behind the huts, somewhere quieter. He quickened your pace, knowing a breakdown was inevitable, at least if he told you this it had to be in the privacy without others snooping in. He owed that to you.

“I don’t want to know.” You’d already felt the familiar flow of hot tears, washing away any makeup you’d attempted to put on in a desperate act of a bid for normalcy. The crack in your voice, the soft weeps that escaped your mouth has Bucky fighting against his own emotions. Standing at the edge of the field, he gripped both your arms, looking back to you with a frantic desire to take away the pain you felt.

“I’m so sorry.” Was all he could muster as you began to crumble before him, hands flying up to your face as devastated sobs racked your body. Bucky caught you once more, keeping you upright as he attempted to comfort you in anyway possible. Words fell short, he tried many times to apologise, beg for your forgiveness, but he was rattled by your cries, tears pricking at his own eyes.

“Curt.” You whimpered in a desperate plea of the man’s name. “I knew this would happen, I knew it.” You choked out to Bucky as his grip tightened on the back of your head, cradling you so tightly as your chest physically hurt, a mixture of emotions making your head spin.

Neither of you knew how long you sat there. The tears didn’t stop, your head was pounding and all you could do was stare miserably across the grassy field.

“How did it happen?” You dared to ask, Bucky watched you, reaching out to cover your trembling hand with his. “You need to eat-”

“No, how did it happen?” You repeated, sharper this time as Bucky winced, turning back to his knees, chewing on the inside of his cheek, eyes red rimmed as a guilt surged through you.

“They were hit, running on one engine, Dickie-Dickie was hit.” Bucky cleared his throat, avoiding any weakness in his tone as he told you exactly what he’d heard Colonel Harding say. “The rest of the men bailed but-” you’d began to cry again, Bucky debated telling you the rest, stumbling over his words as he struggled to watch your upset.

“Curt tried to land to save Dickie.”

“I told him to fucking bail no matter what.” Your stomach churned in a sickening manner, tried to land, he tried to. Your head dropped into your hands as you hiccuped, body shaking and feeling unable to support you anymore. Bucky’s hand fell from your own as he reached for you, bringing you closer as your body weakly fell into his. He exhaled shakily against your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of apple shampoo as he pressed a kiss there, engulfing your body in his arms.

“I wanted him to come back.” You spoke once more, voice hoarse. “I know. So did I.” Bucky hushed as you reached out, aching for comfort as you grasped onto Bucky’s arms. “I’m sorry for telling you he’d come back.” But you held no anger or distaste to the things Bucky had spoke to you before. It was your own fault for trying to believe them.

“Don’t say sorry.” You hushed as Bucky’s eyes closed, looking down to the way you held onto him so tightly. His stomach churned, but this time it wasn’t in such a sickening manner- butterflies. Fuck, he thought, pushing the selfish feelings aside as he swallowed thickly. A second wave of guilt filled him, this time, it was one he couldn’t speak about.

“I knew deep down…” you whispered, head against his chest as you felt the speeding of his heart, closing your swollen eyes, your words a small comfort to Bucky that he hadn’t led you to believe the same things he foolishly thought.

Another six weeks later, you sat in the same spot, drinking from a bottle of red wine, drinking away the sorrows of your dead lover. With a Sunday off, you took advantage of the Saturday (that was still up for debate) and bought yourself a bottle, opting to sit by yourself. It wasn’t very ‘lady like’, but the place was deserted, nobody would come down here, apart from John Egan that was.

“Mind if I join?” Your head turned to see the tall man stood behind you, eyes glassy from the alcohol he’d consumed. Your heart jumped, looking him up and down before nodding. Bucky settled with a groan, taking the bottle from your grasp and taking a swig himself.

“I’ve been lookin’ for you.” He admitted, plump lips moving against the rim of the bottle as he took another gulp of the bitter liquid. You watched as he winced, gaze lingering over his face more than was appropriate. Over the few weeks, Bucky had been there for you like no other. The more time you spent together, the more complicated things felt…

“Were you at the pub?” You hushed, bringing your knees up, hands resting on them whilst he sprawled his out, making the wine bottle seem small between his grasp.

“Yeah, why didn’t you come?” Bucky’s voice rasped from the whiskey he’d consumed earlier that evening, handing the bottle back to you, fingers grazing over yours as you both blinked down to the contact before meeting one another’s gaze again. The two of you questioned if the other had felt it too, the heat that spread from the touch, a forbidden touch that should never feel that good.

“I didn’t feel like it.” You spoke quietly as he let out an internal sigh, leaning back on both his hands. Lifting the bottle up to your lips, you didn’t get to take a swig until he’d spoke up again.

“So you came here with a bottle of wine instead?” His brows twitched, and for some reason you found the comment amusing. A smile broke, followed by a soft breath of laughter. You screwed the lid of the wine back on, dropping it to the grass in the small space between the two of you.

Bucky felt his brows lift at your mirth, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’m not an alcoholic, if that’s what you’re thinking.” You nodded, forcing yourself to look across the field ahead of you, instead of at him. If Bucky caught on that you’d been feeling somewhat… close to him would he shame you and run away? He had every right to, it was a shameful way to feel after your lover, and his friend had passed. It felt wrong, but there was something pulling you in, inch by inch. You felt normal around Bucky, dare you go as far and say happy. You first started craving the emotions that came when he was around, but as the weeks turned into months, you understood that the yearning was for him.

“I’m joking.” He softly smiled, causing your eyes to look back to him once more. “I know.” You nodded, nudging the bottle as it rolled to your feet. A moment of silence took over you, Bucky found himself scanning your face, trailing over each curve and freckle on your face. The slight parting between your lips, the lift of your eyelashes. His chest softened once more and he could no longer pretend that he didn’t harbour feelings for you.

“Why’d you come find me?” You whispered, the words taking a few movements to register in his mind. “Because I wanted to see you.” He winced as you met his eyes now, smiling back to him. Fuck, Bucky thought. There it was again.

“Are you okay?” You then asked him, noticing the slight confusion lingering over his face. “I’m ok.” He quickly responded. Why would you ask? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Are you thinking about Curt?” Bucky then asked, to which you nodded. Bucky felt his heart strain.

“I always think about Curt. I can’t- I don’t like going to that pub, I just think I’m gonna see him.” You swallowed, dropping your head as your eyes averted his. Shit, he thought. He’d upset you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“No, no, no, no.” You were fast to disagree. “I like talking about him, just… I still- I can’t-” you struggled over your words as he shifted closer, dropping an arm around you.

“‘S just difficult.” Bucky understood, watching you turn to face him. Only inches apart, you felt your breath hitch, words stuck with it as a feeble nod was all you could manage. Silence took over you both once more, but now something else filled the quiet.

Bucky’s lips were parted, eyes glued to yours, chest rising and falling at an increased pace as his hand flattened over your arm, your opposite shoulder pressed into his chest as you blinked back up to him. If only looks could speak, you thought, feeling the tension build within you. Your body yearned for him, even if your mind knew it wasn’t right.

Then, when he watched the fall of your gaze onto his lips, Bucky didn’t know what overcame him. He moved forward and caught your lips in one swift movement. To his surprise, you didn’t pull back. You remained in a state of shock, mind going blank as your lips reacted quicker to the kiss than your brain could. Bucky was kissing you- you were kissing him back.

A sudden panic filled the pilot and he retrieved back in surprise, an immense level of guilt filling him as he pushed himself up, lips mumbling as many apologies as he could, but he could still taste you on him.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Bucky scrambled to his feet, but in a state of disbelief, you followed. “No-” you shook your head frantically, reaching for his wrist as your heart beat wildly for the man before you.

“Bucky, stop.” You’d hurried around the other side, standing in front of the taller man. “I can’t, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay.” You soothed, your hand smoothing down his wrist and into his hand to which he unconsciously wrapped his fingers around yours in an automatic reaction he couldn’t even control.

“If I don’t go I won’t stop, y/n.” He muttered, head hanging low as his body screamed to grab you close once more. Conflicted, you found your emotions running deeper than common sense, and in a bid for the same sense of warmth and security as before, you reached for his face, pulling yourself flush against him and catching his lips once more.

There was no debate in Bucky’s mind. Fuck, nothing else in the world moved when he was kissing you, he’d yearned for you for so long, all those touches, the late night conversations. It didn’t take long for his hands to grip at your lower bag, lips moving against each others with ease as his tongue glided across yours.

“Please Bucky.” You borderline wept as he let out a low moan, kissing you once more. Who was he to deny such a request? In a heated exchange, he eased you down to the grass, settling once again as you climbed on his lap, dragging your body over his as a warmth filled not only your core, but your whole body in a frantic display of need.

The hair that littered his top lip brushed against your face, your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Once Bucky had started, he couldn’t stop. Nothing but a pure carnal desire rushed through his veins as he pulled a hand up to your shoulder, pulling you firmer against his clothed crotch to which you both let out a sigh of relief at the friction between the two of you.

The sound of your moans as Bucky dragged his lips and teeth over your neck was nothing short of angelic. He was painfully hard in his trousers, aching as you rubbed yourself against him. Matching your rhythm, Bucky began to gyrate his hips up into yours, groaning at the sensation as he dragged his fingers through your hair, against your scalp in a soothing manner.

With the tension thick, you reached for his belt, as his hands fumbled under the layers of your dress, pushing your panties aside as a finger slid in with ease to your warmth. You rode on his lap, clutching tighter at him, hands fumbling with apprehension as you worked on freeing his cock from his trousers.

Bucky brought you to your first orgasm as you finished over his hand, mouth agape and eyes screwed shut. He watched, swallowing thickly as he was captured by your pleasure, heart racing as your body slumped against his, panting with the aftershocks of your climax.

Bucky didn’t move you, the weight of you on his front was the most comforting thing he’d ever felt, and if it wasn’t for your fingers gliding the tip of his erection against your slickness, he would’ve stayed like that all night.

Then, he was inside you. As he sunk into your warmth the angle of your position and length of his member exerted the most beautiful sounds to pass your lips, ones he would’ve enjoyed to hear louder if it wasn’t for the smooshing of his plump lips against your own. Caught up in the moment, Bucky rolled your entwined bodies onto the floor, disregarding the grass stains he’d find later as he thrusted inside your tightness with a strained groan.

“Are you sure?” Forever a gentleman, he’d almost forgot to ask, but considering the way you were gripping him like your life depended on it, you thought he would’ve known the answer to that already.

“Yes.” Your consent came out as a whine, head thrashing to the side with a gasp as he worked against your g-spot, choking out manly sounds from above you as his pelvis gyrated against yours.

“Bucky.” As you cooed out his name, the pilot gripped you closer, digging his knees into the floor, slipping slightly as he fought for balance, fingers digging into your scalp as he gyrated faster, harder, bringing you closer to release as you both begged for the sweet satisfaction of climax once more.

And when you started pleading for it, how could he deny such a thing? With a muffled cry against his mouth, ecstasy took over your body once more and Bucky followed, digging his hips harder into yours, as deep as he could go before he finished with a groan, lips opening against yours, spilling his sticky seed over your exposed vagina, dropping it down the inside of your thigh.

No more words were spoken. The two of you gasped and panted, chest heaving and falling, your body squashed between the floor and his front as you slowly regained senses once more. It was a mutual feeling of ‘what have we just done’, and after the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly wore off, it was time to face the reality of your actions.

[ananke-xiii]

I started writing about resurrection because, to me, the “Mary Winchester is complete” excuse in S14 is bullshit and the same goes for Billie and her “life’s unfair but what can you do?” speech to Rowena in S13. I’ve talked a little bit about Rowena and soonish I’ll post something about Mary because “About Mary, never enough”. But, before that, I need to say something about Chuck and Amara… and Oskar.

Mary’s death is, of course, once again a catalyst for plot advancement but, in this reading of mine about resurrection, it’s also the straw that breaks the camel’s back for Chuck. Because, after all, souls are “complicated even for him” but, more importantly: “even if I could, would you really want -- I mean, after what he did?”. It’s the switch between the “I could”, the “would you want it?” and the final “what he did” that signals the lie for me. In other words, Chuck just doesn’t want Mary back. So, of course, I must ask: why? Before answering, one little thing must be taken into account.

Now that the show’s over we know that Chuck is a hands-off God only when it comes to humanity minus Sam and Dean. After all, their story is the show’s story so this totally makes sense within this framework. But if I follow this line of reasoning, I find two very specific plot-points that wouldn’t really make sense for S14-S15-Chuck… or would they? I’m talking about Amara and Jack, perhaps the only two entities that have the possibility to end his own personal story. To me, the things are two: either Chuck willed their appearance in the story or they were collateral damage that he thought he could handle (and, in part, he wasn’t 100% wrong).

The first scenario fits my interpretation of Chuck as a gambling addict who has very, very deep and dark desires of complete annihilation. It’s a take that renders Chuck a more interesting character but it diminishes other characters’ relevance in the story. But it’s still possible and one day I’ll perhaps write about this in more details.

If Amara and Chuck are collateral damage, however, it means that it’s not just Sam, Dean and Cas who defy predestination but also… Rowena and Lucifer. Their actions (the destruction/creation of a “child”)(I know neither Oskar nor Jack really are “children” but I’m speaking more in archetypical terms rather than actual, factual ones, perhaps “Son” is a more appropriate word) aren’t God’s will, therefore they have de facto a very prominent role in Chuck’s narrative.

I’ll be honest with you, I have something written about Lucifer, Kelly and Jack that I don’t know if I’ll ever post because it’s a bit intense and I hate everything that Buckleming, or whatever they’re called, have done with that particular storyline. It’s both very uncomfortable and comical which makes things even worse. Also, I’ve been meaning to write about Oskar and Rowena for a while now so I think it’s fair to focus on them.

I’ve said that I’d have preferred if it were “Death’s death” that opened Amara’s cage and not the spell from the Book of the Damned but that’s just wishful thinking. The reality is that the cage was opened because Rowena finished the spell for the “cure” of the Mark of Cain, i.e. she metaphorically killed/sacrificed her soul in exchange for her freedom (oh, Rowena! The fact that something very different, yet very similar will happen again in S15 will forever sadden me). The last ingredient of the spell recites as follows: The caster's heart: The life of the thing the spell caster loves most. “Life” here means “blood” while the “caster’s heart” is, symbolically, Rowena’s soul because she basically must kill her “heart” for the spell to work. Which means that, without her heart, she’ll be “lifeless”, "soulless". It's "an eye for an eye" type of "exchange" (hello Equalizer/Hammurabi). It’s a really, really high price to pay for her physical freedom and for her metaphorical and unaware, brief freedom from Chuck’s narrative.

Who’s Oskar? He’s the child of the Polish family that gave shelter to Rowena, possibly the only people in her whole, sad story that ever showed true compassion for her. Oskar was sick at the time so Rowena cured him thanks to a spell (remind you of something?) and also gave him immortality (this is a bit weak and it’s clearly there because Rowena is 300 years old or something so they had to justify Oskar’s existence in the world, lol, me not like)(Wishful thinking, again: Oskar’s story could’ve been so much more interesting if he had, I don’t know, more than two scenes in the whole season).

My friend Wikipedia tells me that “Oscar” means “deer-loving one” or “friend of deer” and it’s the name of a character in Irish mythology of which, I’m afraid, I’m very ignorant so I cannot tell you much (here the Wikipedia page if you care). What’s more, it’s also the name of the dead son in “The Poems of Ossian” by Scottish poet James Macpherson. I only remember vaguely from my high school years that the Ossian cycle was much discussed because many believed it was a hoax? I don’t really remember much but it’s “nice” to notice that the writers took the trouble to associate Rowena, who’s Scottish, with a Scottish poem. Not that we needed it but it’s a huge foreshadowing because Oscar is, in the poem, a “dead son”, but it also shows that they at least put some care when they were crafting her story and this consoles me a little bit.

But Oskar decides to re-name himself as Seth and this is another huge red flag because Seth is Adam and Eve’s third son after Cain and Abel. The fact that Oskar/Dead Son/Seth/Third Brother is sacrificed by Rowena basically means that Sam/Abel won’t be killed by Dean/Cain (in case we needed further proof but okay, I like it). He is, from a narrative function pov, S10’s very own Adam Milligan, Macleod edition.

Oskar's life and Rowena’s soul are sacrificed because they are the price to pay to remove the Mark on Dean’s forearm. But since the Mark is not passed down to anybody, the cage is opened and Amara is “born” into the world as a… baby. A baby who eats souls to grow up. She’s a soul eater. Unlike Chuck and his lies, souls are not that complicated for Amara. By the end of S11 and after having consumed a good number of human souls, Amara gifts Dean with Mary. She resurrects Mary as a gift. Body and soul, the full package. Which is interesting because Billie clearly says from the beginning of S11 that, from now on, what's dead stays dead. Cough, cough, cough. So someone is not following the rules and this time it's not Sam, Dean, Cas nor even Chuck but it's Amara.

So Amara’s relationship with souls is quite… uncomplicated? She needs them, she gets them. She thinks Dean needs his mother, she gives her to him. Although I find it very telling that Amara is depicted solely as an agent of destruction while it’s her “missing” half, Chuck, her brother, who’s got the task of creation. She can, however, re-create her brother’s creation. I have to highlight this because in S11 another notable cage gets opened and Lucifer also runs free in the world. Again. By S12 he’ll also share his father’s fantasy of solely male creation ( while Kelly is unfortunately characterized from day 1 as the real, ultimate, disposable vessel).

I think Rowena and Lucifer managed to escape Chuck’s controlling narrative simply because… Chuck didn’t pay any attention to them. Didn’t care about them. Sam understands that Chuck is a huge scam, a hoax if you will, and he calls him “stupid and crazy”. Chuck's not interested in Sam's story and that'll cost him a bullet in the shoulder. His obsession with the “Dean kills Sam” plot totally distracted him from the underlying, compelling story linking Rowena, Oskar, Amara, Lucifer, Sam, Mary, Kelly and Jack. Which is the story of the expendables, the "sacrifices", the vessels, the enslaved and the caged. Chuck's narrative focuses, on the other hand, on the ones who, supposedly, should perpetrate violence.

Which is a bit of a pity because, the other side of it, it's the story of the birth and rebirth of the Rejected "Evil" which, in a wonderful paradox, is also the story of the Soul. It's not a morally flat story, mind you, because the Soul is definitely not the Good That Wins, she's starving, constantly mistreated, abused and nevertheless always there, the Real Immortal, peeking out, terrific and absolute, enraged, bruised, aching, demanding to be listened. It’s really, really too bad that the Soul won’t make it by the end of the show. Because, we’re told, She’s complete. I say bullshit.

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

"t-tonight?" you say and from the defeated look on your face it's safe to that you and jungkook are history in jaekuk's eyes. he lives you with a final goodbye with "i'm glad you got the hint" and leaves both you and yerin to enjoy the now watered down coffee thanks to his presence. once he's gone, yerin lets out a loud factual statement that not even you could disagree with.

jungkook does look just like his father. from his nose to his cupid bow lips, and even his intimidating demeanor is all jungkook yet his doe eyes must come from his mother because he doesn't appear to be a gene his father possesses but the fact still remains that jungkook just might propose to tina, which thank God you left your engagement ring back at the hotel. you weren't expecting jungkook's dad to make a surprise pop up and even though it's your first time meeting and seeing him, you want it to be the LAST time you ever come face to face with him again. he's a man with a lot of power and there's no way you stand a chance against him.

you and yerin talk a little bit more before you're off to work then back home late that night. you freshen yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and shorts before hopping in bed and putting on a movie to help you sleep to but before you clock out for the night, you converse with your mother for a bit. once you finish talking to her your mind travels back to jaekuk telling you about jungkook proposing to tina, possibly tonight. you don't believe him, of course, since you and jungkook are engaged but how far does jungkook want to go with this plan? will he really propose?

on cue, jungkook calls you and when you pick up, you hear his happy tone and giggles. "hey, jungkook" you say after he speaks first. you don't know what he's happy about but you're about to ruin his mood when you tell him about jaekuk paying you a visit and the news he informed you about.

"yeah, i did miss you but no. i think i'll sleep alone tonight"

and now jungkook's happy tone is laced with concern because why would you want to sleep alone?

"your father came to see me today. told me you and tina might get married, that you probably proposed to her tonight. i'm not saying i believe him but jungkook, i want to go back home. i appeared pitiful enough when he came to visit me, so can i go back to switz now? please?"

Jungkook screams into the phone. “WHAT??? WHAT DID HE MEAN BY PROPOSING TO TINA?!?” He’s so clueless about this- he’s sure your ears must’ve hurt from his loud voice but he’s genuinely shocked.

Oh his father is the actual devil in disguise.

“Yn sweetheart please don’t tell me you believe him?!” He laughs, he’s literally having mood swings at the moment, just the mention of his father drives him crazy.

How did he even have the audacity to see you?? And even lying to you about proposing to his own personal puppet? Jungkook is sure you’ve got doubts on your mind.

You must be feeling sick to your stomach. “B-But I was hoping that I could take you to meet my mother…” he pouts. “She should get to meet her daughter in law- we’ll soon be married.” He emphasizes on that.

He’d rather eat poison than to propose to Tina.

“Don’t go back to Switzerland of course- not yet. You can’t yn.”

Jungkook sighs. He knows that this is too much to handle but you love him don’t you? He loves you so much. You’ll have to hold on a little longer.

“So what do you say? I’m saying this because my father is going on a business trip to Türkiye tomorrow, So you should meet my mother!!”

[millionsofmaxime]

Augustine & Cynthia: *doing the science* Rowan: You guys woke up at 5:30 in the morning just to do more experiments? Augustine: *silence* Cyrus: *silence* Rowan, finally figuring it out: ...You two never went to sleep, did you? Augustine & Cynthia in shame: Yeah...

Diantha: You can track Lysandre? Augustine: Of course I can. If the NSA can do it, so can I.

Cynthia: Why don't I like this person? Riley: I don't know. Maybe it's because they keep stealing your thunder. Cynthia: Maybe it's because their name is "Augustine". Don't you find that utterly ridiculous? Riley: No. Cynthia: That's because your name is "Riley".

Cynthia, Entering Riley's room: Augustine did it again. Riley: Peace disturbance? Cynthia: What no- Riley: Arson..? Cynthia: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY- Riley: uh....Attempted murder? Cynthia: NO, THEY ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-

Augustine: Cynthia has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them. Riley: That can't be true! Augustine: Watch this. Augustine: Hey Cynthia, race you to the bottom of the stairs! Cynthia: *Throws themself out a window*

Riley: Ladies, gentlemen and Cynthia, I want to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld! Augustine: A llama? Riley: No. Augustine: A baby llama? Riley: No! Augustine: A baby llama with a little hat on? Riley: NO!

Diantha: Augustine won’t come out of their room! Lysandre: Just tell them I said something. Diantha: Like what? Lysandre: Anything factually incorrect. Diantha, shrugging: If you say so. Augustine, arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

Lysandre: I hate you sometimes. Augustine: Well according to this picture Riley drew of us holding hands that's not true. Lysandre: Augustine, you drew that. Augustine: It doesn't matter.

*Riley is comforting Augustine* Riley: Stop crying because it’s over. Start smiling because Lysandre is someone else’s problem now.

Lysandre: Thanks for not telling Augustine what happened. Diantha, dumbfounded: I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain this.

Augustine: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Cynthia: How? Augustine: I need someone to take the fall. Cynthia: What did you do? Augustine: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Riley, from the other room: Oh my god. Augustine: ... Riley: OH MY GOD! Cynthia: Make it a hundred. Augustine: Deal.

Cynthia: It’s funny how well you and Lysandre get along. Didn’t they hate you at first? Augustine: Lysandre hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

Augustine: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation. Lysandre: So you're just gonna wait until Riley is in danger and save them? Augustine: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them. Lysandre: ... Lysandre: You're insane.

Augustine: Two years ago, I married my best friend. Augustine: Riley is still mad about it, but me and Cynthia were drunk and thought it was funny.

Diantha: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club. Augustine: What club? Lysandre: The hating Augustine club. Augustine: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

Cyrus, singing to the tune of I Kissed a Girl: I killed a guy, and I liked it- Cynthia, whispering: Should we call the exorcist? Lysandre, also singing: The taste of his cherry chapstick. Augustine, appalled: Call the exorcist.

Cheryl: Ducks are better than rabbits. Cynthia: What? Rabbits are adorable. Have you ever been in a fight with a duck? Ducks are jerks. Cyrus: Duck is delicious! Rabbit is all gamey. Cynthia: We’re not talking about flavour, Cyrus! Cyrus: Flavour counts! Cynthia: Who carries around a duck’s foot for good luck? Anyone? Lysandre: You wrap yourself in a comforter stuffed with rabbit hair. I’ll wrap myself in a comforter stuffed with duck feathers! Who’s cozier? Cynthia: Okay, but- Lysandre: NO, NO, NO, NO. WHO’S COZIER? Cyrus: Then why don’t we take a rabbit, a duck, stick ‘em in a cardboard box and let them fight it out! Cynthia: BECAUSE IT’S ILLEGAL, CYRUS! Cyrus: ONLY IF WE BET ON IT, CYNTHIA! Cheryl: I- Jesus-

Cynthia: So, are they your friend or... Augustine: They’re like Cheryl, but if Cheryl was ordered to be around you. Cynthia: Oh, so Riley. Augustine: Precisely!

*Everyone is playing a board game together* Riley: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'. Cheryl: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'. Cynthia: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'. Augustine: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'. Cynthia: *flips the board*

Cheryl: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems. Cynthia: Weight loss? Drink water. Augustine: Clear skin? Drink water. Riley: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

Augustine: Why do you act like we’re three year olds? Riley, exasperated: WHY?!? Riley points at Cynthia: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR! Riley points at Cyrus: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK! Riley points at Augustine: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND! Riley: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

Augustine: Oh god, they texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Rowan. They're mad at you. Rowan: No, it's Cynthia. They're just being grammatically correct! *meanwhile* Cynthia: And then I used a period so they'd know that I'm mad at them. Riley: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'. Cynthia: I stand by my choice.

[bleachbleachbleach]

6/4-6/11/2023

I spent most of this week feeling very stupid. I am probably still stupid, but the last two days have resulted in a fair number of words (by my standards) that I think sound pretty good (also by my standards). I have been, as usual, bouncing across All the Chapters, but I decided I want to finish Kensei’s chapter, because I started it years ago and it just needs. To be done. As of this morning, there’s three more scenes left, which I hope means 2-3 more days.

When I first started working on this chapter, I was very proud of myself for figuring out a characterization for Kensei--and then this week I decided I’d lied to myself and that wasn’t true. He felt unidimensional and not true enough to his canon character.

Then I was like, oh, good grief. Kensei has like 30 lines in canon. He has more than 30 lines in this fic. Therefore:

But I don’t think that’s really true either. XD Canon Kensei is an iceberg, not a blank slate. I think there are a lot of equally true ways to fill out the part of his iceberg that’s under the surface, but it has to feel like the same chunk of ice. And that chunk of ice has to feel whole.

Kensei’s still angry. Yeah, they came back. Yeah, TYBW. Yeah, they’re giving this a shot, but he got burned bad by Soul Society and “bygones will be bygones” is not how this works. He doesn’t know or trust any of the people on this mission (except Rose. Hisagi, he keeps encountering in ways that affirm for him that he not know or understand this man). Not because he suspects them of treachery, but there’s a big gap between not suspecting someone of treachery and feeling like a bonded unit.

He’s angry, and bossy, and territorial of this mission because he’s the leader of Team Muguruma--but he’s also a little less than self-assured, because he actually hasn’t done this in a while and a lot has changed and these guys aren’t His Guys. His impulse to make a team that works and keep morale up and do all the things that need doing in that regard is in conflict with his hesitation to put that kind of relational effort into a bunch of strangers, some of whom his anger has already decided he hates. And there are things he just hasn’t gotten over yet, even though in his mind oh my god it’s been 100 years, who am I, a gothic poet?

He’s also really wrong about a lot of things--some factual and some interpretive--and he keeps having moments where some new piece of information or some new interaction will come up that requires him to revise things he’s already decided. Which is the professional thing to do, but he doesn’t want to be the one who has to keep revising, accepting, etc. He wants to see some of that from other people (and/or Societies).

A lot of this is the Trauma talking for Kensei. But I want this to come across without Kensei seeming too wet blanket about it, but also without this chapter being 8000 words of Kensei being gratingly antagonistic for seemingly no reason. Look, the man has been to too many Captain’s Meetings and has had it up to HERE with Hitsugaya and Byakuya (which Rukia takes it upon herself to take personally. For the sake of Kuchiki Pride). 

I think I’ll need to keep finessing this chapter for clarity, but since there’s a Renji chapter before this one and Hinamori’s chapter is after, I hope no one will read it and think “my god this writer really hates Rukia and Hitsugaya. Goddamn!!”

[abooklover]

Chain of Thorns page 400 check-in:

The obsession James has with ruffling Matthew’s hair is going to be the death of me. It is just so adorable.

Oscar hiding in the pockets of James’s coat when he was a puppy is imagery that I definitely needed and is way too cute.

Love that Matthew being angry at James when he wants to use the mirror to spy on Belial exactly mirrors James being angry at Cordelia for summoning demons to get information. Like James I’m not sure if you see the irony here but you are doing something knowingly dangerous to get information just like Cordelia was doing.

Christopher is the kindest most gentlest but most chaotic man I have ever known. And I love him. Visiting grace so she could feel included and cared about is adorable but I just don’t feel a lot about the two of them together. I mean I think they make the best pair and I wouldn’t want them with anyone else but I don’t know…they just don’t do it for me. At the moment that is. Maybe things will change.

I cannot stress enough how much I love Christopher. He just sits around seemingly oblivious to everything that’s going on, only focused on his experiments and such but is probably the most perceptive. Like of course he knows or suspects about the things that grace did and what happened between her and james. And it’s not like he harshly judged her for it either. It is a very factual way of looking at things. God I love him. And yes tell cordelia Christopher cause god knows James is taking his sweet old time.

More from the goldmine that is Thomas’s inner monologue: A Persian prince from a fairy tale? SHUT UP, THOMAS. I can’t this is hysterical.

Oh my god I just got to say that people NEED TO FUCKING COMMUNICATE. Come on. Just talk to each other. Everyone. Lucie you tel them about what is happening with you. Cordelia tell ‘em about what you found out. Matthew tell James and your parents what happened. Thomas and Alastair work out your shit and then let everyone else know sooner rather than later please. And for crying out loud James you need to tell everyone what happened with grace. I am done with this lack of communication that without it this series would literally only being the issue with Belial tryna take down the world. Which I mean would kinda have been boring but I’m just fed up at this point.

Fucking hell james I am going to murder you. What the fuck is your issue. Just fucking tell her. I am absolutely fuming by now if you can’t tell.

Cordelia, babe, you did the right thing though it may not feel like it. I’m proud of you. (I was also gonna strangle you if you didn’t say what you said). My poor Matthew. I hurt for him, always. But it was necessary.

Oh my god Thomas and Alastair. I can’t. Under the mistletoe. Stop. Sorry I can’t form actual thoughts right now. I am so overwhelmed.

I don’t think there is any one character that I have burning fiery hatred for more that Maurice Bridgestock.

Told you it was Charles being blackmailed by Bridgestock.

Yes. It is happing. Fucking finally.

[pink-lemonadefairy]

Hi i forgot to put the 🐙 emoji in my last anon LOL but it’s 🐙!!! (Not sure if u do emoji anons on this acct :p) my favourite classics are honestly ANYTHING by kafka. I am a kafka girl. I love kafka. And then jane austen!! Pride and prejudice 💋💋mr. darcy is the only man ever actually i love when they’re QUIET (emphasis)

I’m pretty open to honestly most classic literature, i’ve been wanting to get some recommendations that aren’t the same authors. Sylvia plath unfortunately doesn’t really do it for me because I’m probably not her target audience but some of her poems/proses are good! I’m currently reading dracula/frankenstein (at the same time lol) and have been loving it so far. The only con about frankenstein is that i bought a tinier version so the words are huddled together and although my ass CAN read it i’d rather the words to be spaced out :-( not sure if it’s a me thing… i’ll just finish the book and see if i would get another version of frankenstein hehe

i also have a little life on hand rn, that is the book I’m especially putting on hold because from what i’ve seen people were Not okay when reading it. Idk about me tho personally i’m not an outwardly emotional person but i’m not heartless so i’ll read it when i can…

I have SOOO many books on my TBR list but i’ve been putting them on hold because i still have a number of books at home that i need to finish…! I wish i could show u a photo because it’s on my notes app lol. This might be a very unpopular opinion but i enjoyed reading murakami’s killing commendatore even though his descriptions of women r nasty. I read his books in a more factual (?) way? If that makes sense. If you have any book/author recommendations do tell me!! Especially female authors 🐙🤍

hi my love 💛 i’m so sorry for the late response :(

omg kafka!! 🥺 i haven’t read any of his works in full yet but i’ve read snippets on pinterest and they’re so so beautiful :( i love the way he writes. do you have any favourite works of his? :O oooh yes pride & prejudice!! the most classic of the classics i feel like lol. YES EXACTLY LOL, men when they’re quiet and don’t talk > 😌

i haven’t read any sylvia plath and tbh i’m not sure if i’d ever pick any of her works up because i’ve lots of bad things about them :( i’m glad you’re enjoying those books though!! :D frankenstein is really great!! >< i think they’re making a live action of it (?) which i’m super excited for !! and ik this isn’t dracula lol but i’m soooooo losing my mind over the new nosferatu movie coming out rahhhh!! it looks amazing :P I TOTALLY GET YOU!! the frankenstein i read in hs was similar and it was seriously a pain to get thru 😭 like why are the letters and words so close together 💔

oh god yeah a little life … ive heard it’s so heartbreaking :( i dont think i’ll be reading it anytime soon lol life is sad enough!! 😞 but people say it’s v well written ! good luck if you ever do get around to reading it 😭💗

ME TOO HELP ☹️ i love buying books but then my tbr just grows and grows and then i don’t even wanna read anymore rip. i definitely know what you mean dw! >< i think something a lot of people tend to forget is that we can (and are supposed to) be critical of authors works, esp those from back in the day! i think the problem is when it’s marketed as something it’s not & people say a work is flawless and perfect when it’s like…not, and even hurts groups of people, etc etc. idk if that makes sense lol but yeah! 😭

hmmm off the top of my head, since you like classics i’m thinking of virginia woolf, toni morrison, and maya angelou! for woolf, i read mrs dalloway (which i LOVED) and a room of ones own for a school assignment. i def recommend those! and for morrison, i read song of solomon which i also really, really loved. beloved by her is also on my list! for maya angelou id definitely recommend and still i rise and letter to my daughter <3 her poems are beautiful too!

i mostly read fiction / fantasy at the moment 😭 if you’re interested in those genres i can give you recs as well ><

[automatismoateo]

I was made fun of for being an atheist today in class :( via /r/atheism

I was made fun of for being an atheist today in class :( I feel very hurt and upset. I know it’s stupid but I feel like this kind of thing should count as discrimination against religious beliefs, even though I lack them. In a sense they were making fun of me for my lack of religious beliefs. Anyways I was in my forensics science class and my group partners are M and S (which, might I add, weren’t actually helping with the project the whole time and expecting me to do everything.) We had to join groups on Canvas and so I say “Let’s join group 6. Haha, 666. Halloween.” Or something like that, just cracking a harmless joke. Well, they FREAK OUT. Asking me crap like “Whoa, are you a satanist?” And saying “You need to pray! You need to pray!” I’m so flabbergasted I’m just like “Guys…you don’t ACTUALLY believe that stuff, right…?” They say “We’re Christians, we love Jesus, we’re followers of God, etc.” (Did I mention they trash talk everyone all class long and that S is literally gay) So I say something like “Oh, I’m an atheist, I don’t believe it!” (To show I wasn’t trying to conjure the devil or something.) Then I add “I’ve even written 72 pages why, actually.” So then they start asking me all about my book, asking like “Let us read it! I’ll write 72 pages why I’m a believer of Jesus” etc. and I’m basically peer pressured into sharing my document with them. I didn’t want to do it but they kept teasing me about it and I eventually felt too upset to ignore them. So then S literally reads the first page OUT LOUD, making fun of it, even though what I wrote wasn’t weird at all, it’s written in a very statement-factual kind of way. Eventually they get bored and M starts reading it on her own next to me, saying stuff like “I’m gonna read all 72 pages” and “You must really like to write” in a mean tone. What really sealed the deal was how afterwards she turns to me and asks “Do you think humans came from monkeys or that God made them?” With this sarcastic tone, as if implying I was super stupid for believing in evolution. Not only is that not how evolution works, but she said it to make me look dumb without actually offering me a chance to explain myself. After class I felt like crying because of how humiliating it all was. The kids around us were giving each other weird looks and I can only imagine the rumors they’re going to start, calling me a satanist. I just know they’re going to say that cause of the 666 joke I made. Or that I’m a school shooter or something. I just don’t know what to do. I want to talk about it with my teacher or something but I feel like I’d be making a big deal out of nothing. Update: I have thought of a good insult for S though, who is always talking shit, in case he insults me again tomorrow. “Maybe instead of talking so much shit you should suck a dick - oh wait, you already do that, don’t you? Does God know about that?” (Mwahahaha) Submitted October 31, 2023 at 08:35PM by PocketGoblix (From Reddit https://ift.tt/K74ryjQ)