#instead of that plastic Ken stuff

[vancruejovi]

I got my first boy monster high doll and he’s just sooooo special to me as a guy doll collector. I love how doll companies are putting just as much effort into the boys and girls (and other genders now too yippee!!) as each other. Girls deserve to have more variety in their dolls, in all respects (race, gender, disability and of course fashion) and boys deserve to have toys that look like them too! Idk I think it’s really sweet

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— HEARTBREAK FEELS SO GOOD

SUMMARY : dean’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s fucking his girlfriend in the closet... okay, seventy-three percent sure, now… and actually, he’s pretty sure it is his girlfriend… thirty-five percent sure. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x OFC, dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : jeralynne mora (OFC), random sexy elf girl deserves a mention 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, praise kink, Dean dressed as Ken, cheating, p in v, smut, unprotected sex (don’t be irresponsible), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, consent is so hot and it’s really sexy when you ask and it’s so fucking hot to ask for consent multiple times to make sure it’s definitely yes still 

WORD COUNT : 3.5k

A/N : fall out boy song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — anonymous sex and costumes. for now, I think it’s just a one part story. all morality has flown out the window for this one, mates. XX

Dean lost track of his girlfriend somewhere in the sea of horny, sweaty, dancing people. It was dark inside the overly crowded house, lights flashed and overwhelmed his senses, the music was as loud as it could be so that he could feel the beat of the music in his stomach. The alcohol was not settling right in his stomach tonight because of it, so he abandoned the red plastic cup on a random table. 

He didn’t want to come to this costume party at all, but Jeralynne insisted. Four months, they’d been dating for four months and it’s almost Christmas. It’s cold as hell outside and he’s dressed in one fucking layer of a Ken costume—for her. 

He couldn’t bring himself to break up with her, but she was thrilled to see him everyday, and he just couldn’t do it. When they sat in silence, the words rested heavily on his tongue, his heart would beat fast, and he just wanted to do it, but then she’d be sweet on him. He couldn’t break her heart, but he knew he had to. Maybe after Christmas, he couldn’t do this to her now. 

At least the hundreds of people dancing and kissing provided warmth. 

Dean walked up the staircase, side-stepping past couples humping each other and making out heatedly against the walls. He made a point to stare at girls and gave them smirks and a wink when they grinned friskily at him while kissing their boyfriends.

The walls were so damn thin for such a giant house, he was unable to escape the loud sound of the music. The bass vibrated through the walls, causing picture frames to shake. He nearly wanted to run out of the place and choose to freeze his balls off outside, but he finally saw her.

Jeralynne was talking to a girl dressed as a sexy elf. God, at least that sexy Zorro costume she was wearing tonight was getting him hot and bothered. He considered asking her to fuck him and maybe slap him around a little, but maybe it was too early in the relationship for that. 

Instead, he went up to her in her tiny, tight leather dress and slapped a hand over her ass. She gasped and turned around to face him, that classic red cup spilling liquid over her hand. She glared up at him cutely from under the brim of her black Stetson, her eyes narrowing between the black mask tied around her head.

He stole the drink from her and handed it to the sexy elf. She immediately took the cup without a complaint and whispered something along the lines of, “go get ‘em, hot stuff,” into Jeralynne’s hair. 

“Hey!” She exclaimed, but he could hardly hear her. He just smirked down at her and pulled her close to him by her waist, leaning in to smell her skin. So flowery, always. “Dude!” She tried to look him in the eyes, but he nipped at her collarbone and shut her up with the gasp that escaped her. 

“You’re not drunk, are ya, sexy?” He asked against her neck, leavening a trail of wet kisses along her neck and above her breasts. He walked her backwards and pressed her into the wall as she squirmed in his arms.

“Uh,” she flushed, pushing her arms against his chest, “no, that wasn’t alcohol.” She stared up at him curiously, there was sexy, fiery defiance and irritation in her eyes that turned him on. He planted a kiss on her lips that made her gasp in surprise. 

“Good,” he murmured against her mouth and trailed his hands down to grab her ass then squeezed, and ground against her thigh. She cursed softly when she felt his erection. “You look smoking hot in this costume and I wanna fuck you real bad. I found a spot, what d’ya say? You down?” 

He stopped what he was doing to weave his fingers through her soft hair and tilted her face up to drop kisses over her jaw by pulling gently at the roots. She stopped resisting him and grabbed his face to kiss him deeply, moaning a soft ‘I’m down’ against his mouth that made him smirk.

“Awesome,” he murmured, nibbling on her bottom lip and massaging her scalp. “The spot’s just a closet actually. That okay with you?” He asked with a quiet laugh, moving her with him to where the nearest closet was. She laughed breathlessly against his lips and nodded. A little shiver moved over her body like a wave when he opened the door.

“Yeah, s’long as we both fit,” she teased, earning a deep chuckle from him. He closed the door behind him and grabbed onto the tight hem of her dress to leave it bunched at her waist. 

“Baby, the less space there is, the closer I am to your sweet little ass,” he moaned softly. She cursed under her breath and swiftly raised her hands to loosen the red tie he wore. 

She pulled him in roughly by his now-loose tie and he moaned before they even made contact. She captured his lips in a breathy kiss. Dean felt his resolve melt away when she licked past his parted lips. His heart skipped a few beats when she buried her fingers into his hair and tugged. He gasped into her mouth, met her sweet tongue halfway, and kissed her lewdly. 

She fumbled with the buttons of his striped blue and white shirt as he teased the waistband of her lace panties. He breathed heavily against her lips and helped her unbutton the shirt all the way. Their noses bumped against each other and he dove back in for a deep kiss while she shoved the red suspenders over his shoulders.

He licked her tongue as his cock twitched, aching to be let out of the thin slacks keeping him from being inside her. He swallowed her soft moan, pressing against her mouth desperately, keeping her pinned between the wall and his firm body. The sweet taste of non-alcoholic eggnog overtook his taste buds, so he sucked her tongue into his mouth for a better taste, needing the flavour of her permanently. 

She hummed softly and reached behind him with one hand to squeeze his ass. He pulled back slightly with a gasp, a wet pop resounding inside the closed space when he parted from her mouth, and a blush scurried up his face. 

“You're the hottest Ken I’ve seen tonight,” she whispered, fitting a hand between their bodies and biting his bottom lip, tugging gently until he groaned in pleasure. 

“Pretty sure I’m the only Ken here,” he retorted bashfully. “But… thanks.” She skilfully unbuckled his belt, and laughed against his mouth when he looked down to watch her slim fingers move quickly to unbutton his slacks. 

She trailed her lips across his jaw, slowly pulling his zipper down, and nipped gently at his earlobe. He bit his lip and pulled her underwear to the side, slipping his middle finger through her wet folds. He heard her breath hitch, moaned softly at the swollenness of her clit, and felt her leg ride up his hip to open herself up to his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so needy, sweetheart,” he murmured, circling her slippery entrance with two fingers. 

“Says the one who can’t shut up,” she teased with a smirk. He scrunched his nose, then he pouted at her. She curled her fingers around the back of his neck and slipped her hand into his pants. She cupped his hard dick in her hand and sucked lightly at his pulse. He moaned lowly, almost growling when she found the spot instantly, licking and biting his special spot.

He felt like he was going to combust. She snuck her hand lower and brushed her thumb over the wet spot his leaking cock left on the cotton of his boxers. With a whimper, he removed his hand from her pussy and sucked his fingers clean of her arousal. 

“I don’t have a condom, baby,” he admitted, untying the lace over her breasts so he could open the leather dress. She slipped her hand out of his slacks and frowned, disappointed. “I’m clean, though, if you wanna keep going. If not, I can find other ways to please you,” he murmured, tugging the dress open impatiently to latch onto her breasts. 

“Fuck…” she moaned, arching her back. She was so horny, she didn’t really want to stop, and his constant search for a yes turned her on. The guys she tried to date were so horrible that the bare fucking minimum was doing it for her. His lips felt soft against her skin, his stubble tickled her sensitive skin when he moved from one breast to the other. “I’m clean, too,” she gasped, reaching for his hips, she tugged him forward, and ground her pussy against his thigh. 

“That’s a yes to fucking, then?” He asked with a chuckle, starting to pull her underwear down slowly. 

“Yes,” she replied with a grin, helping him pull the lace past her black thigh-high boots. He even got down on his knees and let her support herself on his shoulders so she wouldn’t trip. As soon as he got them off, she pulled both his boxers and slacks down, letting them pool around the shiny black shoes he wore. “Wow, you are…” she trailed off, taking his cock gingerly in her hand.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked up at him in question. He didn’t say anything, he just guided her soft hand up and down his throbbing, heavy shaft, while staring into her eyes. She bit her lip coyly and tightened her grip. It drew a rumbling moan from deep within his chest. 

“I’m what?” He asked, his voice husky and raspy. He licked his pink, swollen lips, stepping closer to her. 

“Big, thick,” she listed, tugging faster at his cock, “pretty. I wouldn’t mind having you in my mouth… it’s a shame you’re going inside me.” His eyes darkened at her lascivious expression. He pulled her hand away and manhandled her small frame into position. Her Stetson fell to the floor but they didn’t care. 

“It’ll be worth it, babe,” he murmured against her neck, while his fingers pinched her nipple and he roughly kneaded her breast. She leaned back into his chest, squirming, panting, and resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Is that an empty promise?” She teased softly, feeling him gently pull her cloak out of the way. He cut off the laugh before it even escaped her lips by lifting her leg up by the bend of her knee. She yelped and reached out to stabilise herself with her palm flat on the wall.

“Guess that’s up to you,” he told her, finding her sweet spot to mark it up as she had done to him. From behind, he rolled his hips forward and rubbed his cock through her soaked folds. They moaned together and he almost came when he felt her reach down to press his cock closer to her clit. With a breathless, “fuck, you’re driving crazy,” he reached down and replaced her hand with his, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance. 

“Please, fuck me,” she begged, reaching back with her freehand to bury her fingers in his gelled hair. 

He smirked and slowly pushed his cock inside her. He groaned instantly as her walls fluttered around him, her warmth made him breathless, and he squeezed the thigh he was holding up. When she gasped, he slowly pulled out and then thrusted back inside her roughly, going deeper and deeper. 

From this angle, his cock brushed repeatedly over her g-spot. Either she was sleeping with the wrong guys or she was so horny anything felt good. She had a feeling it the former thing, he knew what he was doing, just how to fuck her, where to put his hands, and knew just what to say to make her open her legs to him. He got into a mind-numbing rhythm and sucked another red mark on her shoulder. 

He breathed heavily into her ear and found her breast with his other hand rather than gripping her hip. Dean noticed that as he fucked her harder, her moans started to sound slightly different than before, softer and less pornographic. It was hotter somehow, more intimate. Her gasps and the occasional moans, and thrown in between curses were short praises that made him slam into her harder. 

“You feel amazing,” he rasped, twisting her nipple one last time before bringing his hand down to massage her swollen clit. She gasped sharply and clamped down on his cock. “Good girl, so wet for me…” he trailed off, rubbing circles on her clit faster. 

“Oh, God, I’m gonna-” a strangled moan cut off her sentence when he pinched her clit. 

“Shit, me too,” he chuckled deeply. “Where do you want me?” He heaved, hips stuttering as she squeezed him tighter. She turned her face slightly and pulled his lips down to hers.

“Inside me,” she murmured, kissing him roughly. With a few more thrusts, she orgasmed and her velvety walls pulsed around his throbbing cock. Her curses and moans filled the small closet and he groaned loudly against her mouth. 

He let go of her leg, thrusted into her harder, faster, and wrapped his large hand around her neck. Her legs were pressed together tightly, keeping him inside her as she came and cried out her pleasure. With a loud moan, he came, his hot cum spurting deep inside her. 

His thrusts slowly came to a stop and he panted against her neck, exhausted and satisfied. He stayed inside her and pressed soft kisses over her neck and shoulder.

“Been wanting to fill you up with my cum,” he admitted softly, sliding his hands soothingly up and down her sides. “Didn’t think you’d be into it.” He planted a kiss on top of her head and pulled his soft cock out of her. 

“Guess Ken was right about being a ten,” she murmured, turning around on shaky legs to lean against the wall. He snorted and grinned down at her. He reached down and pulled his slacks and underwear back up, shoving his cum covered cock carelessly into his briefs. 

He got down on his knees, snatched her underwear from the floor, but instead of putting them on her, he pulled her hips away from the wall and buried his face into cunt. 

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, her legs falling open again as he lapped at her entrance, licking away her cum and his own. 

“Still, Dean, darlin’,” he mumbled against her pussy with a laugh. 

“Dean,” she murmured thoughtfully. His nose rubbed gently against her sensitive clit and she whined, letting herself relax as his tongue prodded at her entrance. 

“Come for me again, yeah?” He looked up at her and pushed two fingers into her wet hole. He thumbed at her clit, flicking teasingly side to side, and waited for her to say ‘okay’ before replacing his thumb with his mouth. 

When she orgasmed for the second time, he licked his lips gladly, and stood back up, bringing her in for a kiss. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. She slid her hands up his bare best, gently scraping his nipples with her nails.

He pulled away and inhaled sharply, then finally said what he’d been wanting to ask since he saw her pick this costume out. “Some time in the future… what would you say to helping me fulfil an old fantasy of mine?” He rubbed his thumb gently over her hipbone and kissed her forehead.  

“You wanna do this again?” She laughed breathlessly, when he lowered his head to bite and tug at her nipples playfully. She pulled his hair so he’d look her in the eyes again. She wasn’t used to being doted on after sex, but it was a nice change.

“Uh, what do you mean?” He stared down at her with confusion, lips wet, red, and in a pout. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, just as confused. The song being blasted turned from a loud one to a soft Christmas one, and he realised she sounded way off. He searched blindly for the light switch in the closet by sliding his hands across the wall. “Here.” She switched the light on and he swallowed when he stared down at the girl who was definitely not Jeralynne. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, smoothing a hand over his hair. “Oh, fuck… no… I’m so… sorry,” he apologised, getting down quickly to help her put her underwear on. “Kind of sorry, the sex was great,” he corrected himself, refusing to look up at her. Even when he got her underwear up all the way and helped her adjust, he looked to the side. 

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” She searched for his face and then cupped his jaw so he’d look at her. His eyes fluttered, closing to avoid her, but then he opened them, and steeled himself for the truth he was about to tell.  

“I have a girlfriend and you’re both wearing the same costume… and I… I’m sorry for putting you in this position,” he sighed. He took her hand, moving it away from his face, and watched her eyes widen. 

“Uh, easy mistake?” She shrugged, her cheeks turned pink as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I don’t know what to say…” she trailed off, quickly tightening the lace of her dress to cover her breasts. 

“They should lower this damn music,” he muttered, reaching down for her Stetson. She laughed softly at that and took it from him, putting it neatly atop her head again. 

“We can forget about this,” she told him, lowering and adjusting the hem of her leather dress. Meanwhile, he started to button his shirt up again. “See ya ‘round, Dean,” she smiled awkwardly and cracked the door open.  

“Wait!” He shouted after her. When she jumped, he cleared his throat and brought his hand awkwardly to the back of his neck. She raised a brow at him and waited for him to speak. “I’m gonna be straight with you right now.. I can’t click with my girlfriend…” He trailed off, watching her shut the door and cross her arms over her chest while chewing her lip. 

“Want some advice or something?” She laughed softly, then reached out with a grimace to touch the red mark on his neck. “I guess I’m a pretty good coach, even if I haven’t dated in a while. You know what they say: All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players… actually, I don’t think that goes well with this situation,” she added distractedly, brows furrowed and a pout on her pretty lips. 

He laughed softly and smiled down at her. He groaned, hating the fact that he was dating someone when he felt something so special right now with someone else. He shook his head and sighed heavily. “No… this is all fucked up, but… when I break up with my girlfriend, wanna… try this out?” 

She tilted her head and bit her lip hesitantly. “How about we just stick together as friends… for the meantime,” she offered. He frowned, felt his stomach sink at the rejection, but she seemed conflicted about everything which soothed his ego. 

“Yeah.. I get it, can’t just jump into one relationship and then another without giving myself time…” he nodded, trying not to appear too dejected. He smiled at her kindly and she smiled shyly in return.

“Sure,” she said nervously. “Uh, good luck,” she whispered, turning around once again to get out. She got out of the room this time, but he grabbed her elbow to stop her once again. 

“Can I get your number?” He asked quietly, hope turned his eyes bright. “It’s cool, if you don’t want to.” She turned around and he let her slide her arm out of his grip, but she only kept her small palm against his calloused one. It felt so right. 

She reached up for his unmade tie and pulled him in for a kiss. It was rough and needy, breathtaking and made his heart nearly burst. He didn’t realise how different it felt to kiss Jeralynne and this cute stranger. She pulled away breathlessly, but he chased her lips and gave her a final peck, wishing it could last forever.

“Fuck, you taste good,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “Anyway, yeah…” she conceded, pulling away from him to hold her hand out. 

“Awesome,” he whispered, unsure as he put his mobile in her hand. She added herself to his contacts and he smiled softly at her name. Now, he knew. 

“We need to figure this out first. Until then, let’s… not have contact,” she added, staring up at him under the white glow of the light. He did the same, trying to memorise the hidden features of the woman who made him feel things he’d never felt before, and was now leaving—possibly forever. 

Talk about wrong place, wrong time, right person.

➥ my love will never die

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@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797

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© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

‘realize’ for the word ask thingy!! -galaxy

I see this and I raise you:

Doll!Reader helping Ken realize that horses exist in Barbieland

..........

"You weren't kidding..we really did have horses here all along.."

"Glad you finally realized that, Ken." With a small chuckle, you turned back to your horse, taking the pink plastic brush to her mane as you gently combed through the fluff.

"There you go, girlie...how do you keep getting these knots, hm?" You cooed, to which she snorted in reply, seeming content.

All the while, Ken couldn't stop staring at you both in awe, still trying to process what he was seeing before his very eyes.

A horse in Barbieland.

If only he knew they existed here, too, before he decided to take over everything and reinvented patriarchy.

The one time you decided to come into town....was when this seemingly perfect paradise was rapidly transformed into "Kendom", where the Kens took over the dreamhouses and attempted to rewrite the entire constitution.

They attempted to brainwash you as they did other Barbies into servitude, but since you weren't a Barbie yourself...it didn't really work.

Yet Ken, aka Beach Ken who went to the Real World with Stereotypical Barbie and returned as a completely different person, tried convincing you to stick around, showing off all the horse-themed stuff he had.

Despite you being a doll literally centered around equine care, he kept talking over you, spouting nothing but inaccurate horse facts and firmly believing he knew more than you.

As far as he was aware..horses only existed in the Real World, where men rode them and owned them and were the ultimate symbols of manhood.

When he made a jab at your job and refused to believe it's your actual profession, you snapped and nearly ripped his horseshoe chain necklace off of him, embarrassing him in front of all the other Kens, before you called out to your horse.

His jaw dropped as he saw her appear out of nowhere, and you mounted her and glared at him, mockingly asking if he still believed they're only from the Real World. Then you galloped all the way back home, refusing to hear his response.

You haven't returned since, and he struggled to maintain his image as a manly and "cool" leader after that revelation was dropped on him like an anvil.

After all was said and done, and Barbieland was restored to its former glory, Ken decided to go look for you. After realizing that patriarchy didn't make him happy, he wanted to make amends (and see your horses, but mostly make amends) and admit that scorning your job was shitty.

He kept rehearsing what he was going to say during the long walk to your home....but ended up faltering at your doorstep, becoming an anxious wreck until you let him in.

You weren't inclined to, at first, although seeing as he no longer wore that stupid mink coat and instead had a tie-dye hoodie that said "I Am Kenough", you figured he finally had some sense knocked into him.

Plus, the fact that he walked all this way was surprising..until you remembered Kens didn't drive cars or use bikes.

Even so, it's obvious that he genuinely wanted to make things right.

So both of you talked for a while, with him concluding that he felt stressed and unsure of what to do with his life now that Barbie's out of the picture.

He felt like he didn't belong anywhere near her dreamhouse, and he wasn't ready to go back to the Real World anytime soon. He just felt...stuck.

You didn't have too many words to comfort him with, given you've never been there and you've never dealt with the complex human emotions he just started experiencing himself.

But you did know how to cheer him up.

So you took him outside to one of the fenced arenas at your ranch, whistling for your horse, and she came trotting over.

Ken was awestruck, watching you tend to the gentle creature as you finished brushing her mane. He stepped closer to the fence, unsure of what to do or what to say...or even if he was allowed to be this close.

However you could see the look in his eyes, and the hesitancy in his body language, and ultimately relented.

You couldn't stay mad at him for eternity.

"You can pet her if you wanna."

He blinked in surprise, before looking at your horse again and cautiously reaching out to her face. For a moment she stared at him, and the abrupt snort made him flinch away.

"I-I...don't think she likes me.." He frowned.

"It's okay, Ken. She only acts like that 'cuz you're reaching for her mouth and don't have any food. Here. Let me help."

You took his hand, ignoring the way he stared at you with a growing blush on his face while you guided him. But eventually his focus shifted back to the horse as he felt soft fur beneath his fingertips, eyes widening as he looked to see his hand resting just above her nose.

Her ears flicked to the side, though besides that..she didn't react in any hostile way.

He was in childlike amazement, gently petting her and brushing his fingers through her mane. And you stepped back, allowing the two to bond, before noticing the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"Y-Yeah...this is just awesome. She's nothing like the ones on those stupid TVs we had."

"Nope. They can't compare to her." You chuckled, leaning against one of the posts with a warm smile. "She's the real deal."

[jasminestoleyoman]

head cannons for everyone and anything 😝

JESS MARIANO (MODERN AU) : spent his birthday money on a Bluetooth headphones because his old wired ones only worked when you twisted the wire a certain way and he wasn’t messing with that.

DAIKI AOMINE : got his ears pierced after he slept with a girl who said that guys with piercings were super hot but aomine would never admit that getting his ears pierced hurt like a mother fucker.

KOSHI SUGAWARA : when teacher suga is talking to his class about why it’s important to keep trying no matter how hard it gets he always uses tanaka and kiyoko as an example. “one of my friends kept getting turned down by the woman of his dreams and now they’re married! do you know why boys and girls? because he never gave up and he always tried his best to impress her and be the best version of him he could be!”

JASON TODD : loves when his friends cancel plans. like he’s ready to go and his friend calls saying that they can’t make it and he’s all “really? what a shame..guess we’ll have to reschedule!” as he’s putting his pajamas back on and putting on a face mask and like lighting his little scented candles.

ARAN OJIRO + MIYA TWINS : before aran’s first day as a second year he found out the weird twins from volleyball camp were also going to his school as first years and had a mental breakdown like he was crying so bad “mom please! they’re so weird!” but when the twins found out aran went to their school too they were so excited because he was the only upperclassmen they liked and knew at the time.

TETSURO KUROO + KENMA KOZUME : after the first tokyo training camp with like fukurodani and the other schools kuroo was soo pissed off with kenma because outside of club time kenma would never ever talk about volleyball or other players but after the training camp all he could talk about was “oh-shoyo just text they beat seijoh and they’re going on to play shiratorizawa..” or “shoyo just sent over karasunos training regimen..” or like “shoyo hasn’t text me in a week I wonder if he’s okay?” LIKE KUROO WAS SO PISSED! He was all “so how’s your new best friend shoyo?” and he’d be so snarky and petty about it too 😭😭

BRUCE WAYNE + BAT FAM : bruce has a different playlist for each of his kids. like there’s one for everyone even alfred. but he would never let anyone know that he secretly likes a few of the songs and makes his own playlist. like his music taste is a combination of all of kids music tastes. i just know that he lowkey vibes with chapell roan.

ATSUSHI MURASAKIBARA : his mother fucker is so fucking picky when it comes to like proper meals. when he’s snacking on random stuff he doesn’t care at all he’ll eat whatever. but when it’s a sit down proper meal? he’s a whiny picky bitch. “ew his broccolis gross and limp..can’t I have a bag of chips instead?”

KEN SATO : he’s such like a baseball nerd. he collects those little card things with baseball players on and when he meets them he asks them to sign it and he gets like so excited when there’s one he doesn’t have. “mina could you please put this one with the signed cards-and make sure you put it in the protective plastic okay?” “yes ken i’ll be very careful”

RIN MATSUOKA : rin could care less about sweets and candies so he never understood why gou or his friends would beg him to get bring them back some sweets from australia. until he had a tim tam milkshake.he was hooked. every day after school rin would go swim and go straight to his nearest cafe or diner and grab a tim tam milkshake (a/n as someone who has enjoyed many a tim tam milkshake this is so real)

TADASHI YAMAGUCHI + TSUKISHIMA KEI : yamaguchi’s VA once said that the only reason yamaguchi ‘s favorite food is soft fries is because tsukki eats all the crispy fries and gives his left overs o yamaguchi 😭😭

LOGAN HUNTZBERGER : got drunk and almost got a Jacobs ladder piercing but then got told what it was and broke down crying because he said he didn’t want to “damage the goods”

the end lol

MORE TO COME BUT I COULDNT THINK OF ANY MORE I NEED SUGGESTIONS PLEASE

[dr-lurker]

Also, if we have to address ships, I wonder how the present love triangle will be solved this time around... last time we had one, I really appreciated that the Jackson/Brenda/Exer one was subverted (in quite the creative way, might I add! I'm not sure i can recall a love triangle resulting in one guy ending up with the girl's friend, the other guy ending up with the girl's BROTHER, and the girl staying good friends with both of them). But idk how this will play out.

I honestly think the webcomic's creator might break it up by having kenda as endgame and setting jolie and elijah up, because when her and timothy are introduced to the new entry in chapter 126 she is kinda drawn with blushing cheeks, but it looks more like out of awe of meeting ken's new neighbor (in fact there is no trace of anything like that except jolie's usual sunny disposition). Also, we have 10 characters in the main ensemble, it wouldn't be news for a series to pair each character with someone in the main cast so that they are not left hanging, but I feel like that's kind of overdone. I also really like the idea of Jolie taking a break from boys after her shitty ex whose name I can't remember for the life of me and keep girlbossing. And maaaaaybe find herself a girl on the way. /hj

Somebody else, either in webtoon's comment section or instagram's, i can't really remember, suggested that the way the love triangle trope might be flipped over its head might be with polyamory. Honestly, I think that would be cute and interesting, and I see it a lot in that "my favorite ship dynamics" memes/sketches, but I never really see it in media, so that would also be a play upon expectations, that are in line with the comic's history.

If we go we this idea you could also argue that Brenda and Elijah kind of share a motif/parallel: on one hand we have Brenda, who started off s1 with a friend group of "cool kids" that are actually mean-spirited and, as told by Pamela, she has a record of liking the effortlessly cool BUT nice guy, and now she has an albeit messy, but well-meaning friendgroup, and she is seen falling in love with Ken, who is not really somebody's ideal of coolness, but he also has plenty of kindness to give; on the other hand, just like her, Elijah has a record of these "plastic" people throwing themeselves at him, but it seems like he's sort of quietly making an effort to breach out to ken, who he quite evidently finds weird in an entertaining way and with whom he goes out of his way to interact with, and his friend group- and of course, on a lesser scale, to Brenda, who is nothing but honestly nice, supportive and earnest.

Moreover, back in s2 I think, or at least back when dexer weren't an item yet, there was this cute little scene in which Ken greets Brenda in some sort of flirty/overtly nice manner in front of David, so David calls him out for doing that "in front of her brother" (I'm paraphrasing but I SWEAR something like this happened and I'm not crazy), so Ken just goes straight up "oh okay" and does it (what was it??? I. Don't. Remember. Desperation is a real thing) to him instead, causing him to blush. This, of course, couldn't mean much and it probably doesn't mean much, for it only kind of confirms that sometimes Ken doesn't have the best nose for social clues and his role as comic relief, while still being overall a good dude who notices stuff much quicker than some other people in the comic (as I realized tonight when reading a twitter/x thread that was written back in april by @/arthurium_key, they were live reacting to a bunch of chapters), but if you have delusional/overthinking goggles like me, you might as well take as him not caring about being ambiguosly affectionate with a dude in broad daylight, in the late 80s/early 90s, and consequentially, MAYBE not caring about being involved with a guy. But honestly? I don't this is likely, so I'll guess we find out.

But I'll use this post to vent for a bit: I really don't like how people in webtoon comments talk to people about shipping, especially rarepairs/non-canon ships, ESPECIALLY when they're gay. They're all so mean and loud about it. What do you mean "oh artists are run off the internet because of shipping"??? What do you mean "oh this is not going to be a comic where everybody is gay"??? That's... kinda... petty and targeted. To me, at least.

And by the way, i can't get a read on elijah for the life of me. He looks so cute and he seems soo polite, but I wonder what he brings to the plot other than being part of the love triangle and Jackson's past best friend. I'm pretty sure someone in the comic lampshaded them being the same person? So is he magic-related, someone else jackson might be able to control, is the love triangle a red herring is he trust-worthy, does he know something...? Everytime he arrives in a scene I feel so uneasy about him. But eh.

Just wanted to ramble btw, nothing serious, but I may have some words about Other Jackson by the comic's next update

[ferventfox]

Saw the Barbie movie and enjoyed it a lot. 

Some people on the internet have charged it with being misandrist/man-hating/whatever word you want to use for it, and those people...are kind of correct. Sorry. (Spoilers for the Barbie movie btw)

The standard smug response is “omg sexist dudebros can’t stand that a movie is about women and they are too toxic to understand the message of the film and how it deals with the fact that patriarchy hurts men too.” And sure, it’s made explicit that being in charge and having the material trappings of patriarchal power does not make Ken happy on an existential level (because his real dream in life is to be a horse girl), but it’s not enough to cancel out that every single man in the film is portrayed as an incompetent moron. Stuff like “Men love explaining the Godfather and think playing the guitar is interesting and impressive to women” doesn’t bother me--these are jokes in a comedy film and the characters doing them are doll people who live on a plastic beach. But it’s not just the Kens that are stupid, the men from the real world are all stupid too. The husband of the America Ferrera character is essentially a real world Ken--there just to be there and someone neither the audience or the women in his life spare much of a thought for unless we are laughing at how ridiculous his existence is. The Barbie movie is only “not sexist” in that it’s not as bad as you might expect because the bar for these sorts of thing is so low it’s on the ground.

The messaging around the whole Ken takeover is extremely weird and confusing. As Ken observes, the real world is opposite from life in Barbieland; in Barbieland the Barbies are the patriarchs who occupy all the positions of power and Kens are the “women” in that they are second-class citizens whose lives and identities revolve around the Barbies because they’re not permitted to do anything fulfilling or interesting on their own. But when Ken turns Barbieland into Kendom, the plot seems to run on the assumption that the audience’s sympathies would naturally be with the Barbies fighting to restore the status quo and not with the Kens, who were an underclass until about a day ago. Yes the society they set up is bad--it’s just the reverse of the unfair system that existed before--but there is very little sense that the Barbies are getting a taste of their own medicine and instead the narrative is that it’s tragic that these strong women who have won Nobel prizes have to be nice and pay attention to the obviously stupid and boring Kens for even a day. The main character expresses that she feels bad for treating Ken poorly and this is shut down by another character (meant to be a real human woman from the real world) who basically says she shouldn’t feel bad because Ken stole her house and “brainwashed” her friends but isn’t it just one of the struggles of womanhood that we feel bad about how we treat shitty men~ . 

Like, what? All the Kens were homeless before this! I liked the Barbie character and all, but obviously I’m going to feel more sympathy for the person whose example of how the real world made him feel like someone is that a woman found his existence worthwhile enough to ask him for the time than for someone whose arc is dealing with her life being less than perfect for the first time.The former is both very sad and just more like a real experience that most people would have--a lifelong sense of inadequacy rather than having an idyllic existence that went suddenly wrong--yet it’s Barbie who is framed as the relatable one because, I suppose, she is a woman.  

I think the movie relies a little too much on this “sisterhood” idea that I’ve always hated. I’m sure I’m meant to be nodding my head at the little speech about the contradictory expectations placed on women and going “yes that’s just what it’s like!”...but I simply didn’t relate to it at all and was left thinking it was sort of a weak, lazy solution to a conflict that was already a bit contrived to begin with. That Barbies would be just as susceptible to rhetoric from some college freshman’s B+ women’s study’s paper as they were to instantly adopting patriarchal ideas actually makes sense, but I don’t think that’s the joke--we’re meant to find it profound. (The human characters in general are the weakest part of the movie. It feels almost like they are remnant of an earlier version of the story that got changed a lot, especially the Mattel executives). 

At the end there is some lip service to things not just going back to the way they were, but a Ken cannot have a seat on the supreme court. The point of this, I think, is supposed to be that just like a company releasing toy that is a woman president isn’t going to solve gender inequality, neither is this one event going to immediately change Barbieland into an egalitarian utopia; real equality is hard to to achieve and is a slow process of incremental changes. This is good, but it’s undercut by the movie wanting to have it’s cake and eat it too by having all these girlboss scenes where the Barbies are taking back Barbieland and are clearly better and smarter than the Kens. We’re meant to see them talk about “keeping Barbieland Barbieland” and getting to reinstate “their” constitution (that 0 Kens get to vote on) and feel...good? Inspired? 

I couldn't help but feel dissatisfied with how this plotline ended because the situation looks sort of grim.The only Barbie who is ever shown to have any empathy for a Ken leaves, and the Ken with the most personal development gives up leading anyone because it’s not his thing and cedes his leadership position to a Ken who doesn’t have the motivation not to build his life around Barbie that he does. I think I would’ve liked it more if Ken also left Barbieland. He had an existential crisis too;  he was also effected enough by his experience that he was capable of tears. If Stereotypical Barbie doesn’t feel like Barbie anymore, does Stereotypical Ken really feel like Ken? After having to completely redefine his entire reason for existing?  As it is, it almost feels like the film is saying that Ken is too simple to be irrevocably changed by what he’s been through, like only Barbie’s feelings are deep and meaningful. I just wanted a post-credits scene where he runs a horse ranch with Allan or something. 

[belovedspector]

Double Jeopardy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You met Joel at trivia night at a local bar. While watching old Jeopardy! reruns together, you realize Joel bears a striking resemblance to a certain game show host.

Content: No outbreak/modern AU. Fluff, use of pet names (darlin’), slightly insecure Joel

A/N: Just a silly little fic based on this silly little post I made. This got a little out of hand (it was literally just supposed to be one scene), but I had fun with it! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

It’s been a hell of a week, and it’s only Tuesday. After a disastrous work day full of dumbasses and delays, Tommy insists on going to the bar, and it doesn’t take much convincing at all before Joel agrees.

The bar is crowded for the middle of the week, Joel thinks. Groups of people are gathered around nearly all the tables, and the stage is illuminated.

“Music tonight?” Joel asks the bartender after flagging her down.

“Trivia night,” she says, handing Joel and Tommy their beers.

The brothers manage to snag two bar stools next to one another, chatty idly about everything other than work.

After a few minutes, a man gets up on stage, and the game begins.

Joel has never been much for trivia. He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s also not one of those people who can name all the presidents in alphabetical order, or whatever. Still, he finds himself captivated by the game before him, watching just as intently as he would any football game.

You draw his attention early on, even from across the room. You’re the spokesperson for your team, and Joel can tell you know your stuff. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, even in your simple t-shirt and jeans. As Joel watches the game unfold, he can’t help but silently root for your team, and he’s pleased to see you and your teammates take home the (plastic) trophy.

You’re beaming as you head over to the bar for a refill, serendipitously ending up on Joel’s end of the bar.

Tommy elbows Joel in the ribs. Joel glares at him, but Tommy just gives him a look and gets up from his stool, wandering away to God knows where.

Joel clears his throat after you’ve ordered your drink. “You’re awful good at that,” he compliments.

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, and you smile despite yourself. “I watch a lot of Jeopardy!” you say by way of explanation.

Joel considers this. He hasn’t thought about that show in years, didn’t even know it was still airing. “That Trebek guy still hosting?”

“Oh, no.” You shake your head with a slight frown. “He died, like, three years ago.”

You look almost sad about it, Joel thinks. He almost wants to apologize for your loss, but realizes how ridiculous that would sound. Instead, he asks, “Who’s hosting now, then?”

“Ken Jennings,” you answer, perking up again.

“Ken Jennings,” Joel repeats. “That sounds familiar.”

“Yeah, he had a seventy-four game winning streak in”—your eyes turn up towards the ceiling in thought and you scrunch your nose up in a way that Joel thinks is adorable—”2003, I think?”

“Ah, must’a heard about it on the news back then,” he says with a nod.

You nod alongside him. “Yeah, he does a really good job.” You pause to take a sip of your drink. “God, and don’t even get me started on the hosting debacle that happened after Alex’ death.”

Joel has no idea what you’re talking about, but he chuckles anyway. It’s been a while since he’s talked to anyone like this. Is this what flirting is like nowadays? Well, he supposes, it’s working on him—you’ve got him completely enamored with you and your little game show facts.

You and Joel end up closing down the bar together. It’s just the two of you and one slightly disgruntled bartender who has been dutifully cleaning all the tables around you. To be perfectly honest, Joel has no idea when Tommy had gone home; he’s been so wrapped up in you the whole night. Tommy will definitely give him shit about it the next time he sees him.

You had, in fact, gotten started on the Jeopardy! hosting drama at some point. There are a lot of names thrown around that Joel doesn’t recognize, but you’re so damn enthusiastic that he doesn’t have the heart to stop you.

Eventually, the discussion turns away from game shows. You talk to each other about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as freely as the drinks.

All good things must come to an end, though.

“Alright, I’ve gotta close up now,” the bartender announces.

After a playful squabble over who will pay the tab (which Joel ends up covering), you reluctantly make your way out of the bar, the neon “open” sign going dark behind you.

Joel, being the gentleman that he is, offers to walk you home. You pick up right where you had left off at the bar, but, all too soon, you’ve reached your place.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you say with a smile, twirling your keys around your index finger.

“Yeah, me, too,” Joel agrees. “I don’t want to be too forward, and there’s no obligation, but is there any chance I can get your number?”

You beam at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Gimme your phone.”

Joel complies and watches as you add in your contact info and send a text to yourself.

He returns his phone to his pocket and says, “I might be pushing my luck here, but any chance you’d wanna go out to dinner one night?”

You smile again and nod enthusiastically. “I’d love that.”

“Alright,” Joel says, smiling back. “I’ll be in touch.”

He’s feeling bold. The alcohol is still coursing through his veins, giving him the push he needs to lean forward and kiss you on the cheek. He hopes he’s not imagining the way he feels your skin warm under his lips.

You giggle—an honest-to-God giggle. You’re going to be the death of him. “Good night, Joel,” you say.

“Good night, darlin’,” he returns, making sure you’re safely inside before heading back home, grinning like an idiot the whole way.

You go out to dinner that Friday.

“I’m missing Jeopardy! over this, you know,” you tell him while you scan the menu.

“Well, I’m honored,” Joel says with a laugh.

“I think it’ll be worth it,” you say with a broad smile.

Friday dinners become your thing. You usually meet at a restaurant, but, a few weeks in, Joel has an idea: he invites you over for takeout and Jeopardy! You seem thrilled at the prospect.

And so, he finds himself sitting next to you on the couch, a pizza box open on the coffee table in front of you. He’s got the TV tuned in to the right station, and it’s just a matter of minutes before the show will begin.

Just like on that trivia night, Joel finds himself totally wrapped up in the fast-paced game. He quickly learns that you like to shout out the answers, and he joins in when he can. It’s the most fun he’s had in a long time.

All too soon, it seems, half an hour has gone by, and the credits are rolling. Joel clicks the power button on the remote. The TV screen goes dark, and the living room falls silent.

“So?” you prompt. “What do you think of Ken?”

“Jennings ain’t bad,” Joel admits, “but he’s no Alex Trebek, that’s for sure.”

That Tuesday, you invite Joel to trivia night. You fall into an easy routine: trivia on Tuesdays, Jeopardy! on Fridays, date nights every other weekend. For the first time in a long time, Joel feels content.

“They have old episodes that you can stream, you know,” you say one night after the show ends.

It’s been a couple of months, and things are going quite well, if Joel does say so himself. You’ve met Tommy and Sarah, and they’ve both given their stamp of approval.

“That so?” Joel asks, tightening the arm he has around your shoulder.

“Yeah. I can set it up, if you’re not all Jeopardy!’d out for the night.”

“Pfft, never,” he says.

You grin, grabbing the remote and navigating to Pluto, picking an episode at random. A younger, mustachioed Alex Trebek fills the screen.

As the episode plays, you’re still answering clues like normal, but you also keep sneaking glances at Joel throughout the game.

Finally, during the Double Jeopardy round, he pauses the show. “Okay, what is it?”

“What do you mean?” you ask a little sheepishly.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” He runs a hand across the scruff on his cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

You laugh. “No, nothing like that. It’s just…” You hesitate.

“Yeah?” he urges.

You cut your eyes between Alex on screen and Joel on the couch. “You look kinda like Alex Trebek,” you blurt out.

Joel is stunned into silence for a moment. He studies the man on the TV, with his graying hair and mustache. He’s not a bad looking man, but—

“Are you sure?” he asks. He feels almost shy all of a sudden. He knows he’s getting older; his hair is more gray than brown, and the lines on his face have gotten deeper. But, still, does that mean he’s old? Getting compared to an old, now-dead game show host has brought all of his anxieties about aging to the front of his mind.

You nod. “Positive,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts before they can spiral any further. You grin. “I’ve always had a thing for him, you know.”

“W—Who?” Joel stutters, not sure he’s heard you right.

“Alex Trebek,” you clarify, your grin widening.

Joel hums. “That so, darlin’?” he asks mildly, but he’s not quite able to keep the smirk off his face. “What do you think—should I get rid of the beard, just keep the mustache?”

You slap his shoulder lightly. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He breaks out into a wide grin and leans in to steal a kiss. “You know I’m kidding, darlin’.” He looks to the TV screen again, and then he turns back to you, eyes softening. “I could do a lot worse than Trebek, I s’pose.”

“It’s a compliment!” you insist.

“I know, I know,” he says, kissing you again. “God, I love you.”

The words slip out without him even realizing. It’s not until he sees your eyes widen a little that he comprehends the weight of what he’s just said. Fuck. He’s gone and fucked this whole thing up, hasn’t he? Can he…take it back? But he doesn’t want to. It’s true, he realizes—he really does love you.

“I love you, too,” you say breathlessly, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as he hugs you. He takes another glance at the TV from over your shoulder, where the still image of Alex Trebek stares back at him. Joel must be imagining it, but…it almost looks like Trebek is winking at him.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

[shzmluvrs]

Can you do how Freddy freeman would react to reader giving him flowers for apology or just for fun

-Kari❤️❤️

Oh my gosh, this is so-...

Oh my gosh🥺😭🩵🌼💙🌼🩵🌼💙🌼🩵.

Okay, so I've been debating how I wanna write this out ever since you requested it, and I've decided that I'm going to write the apology bit of your request as an imagine, and then the just in general/for fun bit as headcannons.

This will be the imagine, and then I'll link the headcannons to this page as well so that when I finish and upload them, you can always check back and you'll know/see it :).

~ Star✨️

Hydrangeas

Prompt: Playing dolls with Darla was always a fun activity. Granted, Freddy had reminded you time and time again that his "one of a kind" "usually un-replacable" "not toys, don't touch without asking" action figures were off limits, but Wonder Woman was making a great replacement for Raquelle, Barbie and Ken needing conflict, of course. Besides, you'd be safe and sound downstairs in the living ro-...

You tripped.

And down went Wonder Woman.

"(Y/N)...!"

And away went Freddy's trust.

Timeline: Post S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Implications of a fight⚡️Apologies⚡️Freddy being a nerd lol⚡️Reader encouraging said nerd behavior🤭

Reader: Non-Specified (a little bit fem coded, though, kinda)! Any Pronouns!

Requested By: Kari❤️

Back to Master List

Flowers HDCNS

To say that you "wore the pants" in you and Freddy's relationship was never something either of the two of you would agree with. Not because of whether or not the statement held truth, but because you both believed that loving one another in the ways you knew how had no gender-specific role.

And yet, here you were, anxiously shifting your weight from left foot to right foot in front of Rosa and Victor's front door. You hadn't even knocked yet, instead, knawing at your bottom lip while your mind swirled with nerves you thought you'd be able to control. Not the case, they proved, your hands practically shaking against the plastic wrapping that held a bouquet of flowers.

Hand-picked by you, of course. Hydrangeas in a multitude of blues, purples, and greens that even you couldn't peel your eyes away from when they had first laid upon them in the shop. This, along with a 99¢ dollar store plastic bag containing several treats and trinkets balanced in the bend of your arm, would surely leave Rosa a little confused when she answered the door.

As far as you knew, she had no clue you and Freddy had-... Weren't on speaking terms at the moment. But either way, she'd let you in, and that was all you needed to-

"Oh..."

'Oh shit.'

Your widened, (E/C) eyes and parted lips perfectly conveyed your thoughts, having not even considered that Freddy himself would be the one to open the door. The words you had prepared yourself to say over and over again zipped from your mind, nothing coming from your throat but small squeaks of forced air.

It was now a staring contest, the two of you waiting on the other to spare each other of the awkwardness. It never happened, and you could sense that in the next minute, Freddy would completely give it up and shut the door in your face. You couldn't have that. The whole point of this was to win him back over...

"I'm sorry." And you practically shoved the hydrangeas into his free arm, so hard he stumbled back a bit as he began to inspect the flowers suddenly gifted to him.

...You were failing so far.

"I mean, no... sorry. Those are... for you. The flowers. I got them for you, because..."

He looked up, only to see you had reverted your gaze down to your feet, still rocking side to side while your free hand fiddled with the hem of your shorts.

"...'Cause I was wrong. It wasn't just a doll, at least, not to you. I understand that, now. And I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or make you mad. Or break your stuff in the first place. I'm sorry."

Freddy's stoic front melted the more you spoke, practically smiling when he finally motioned you to come forward until he was able to pull you into his grasp himself.

"Oh, (N/N)..." Freddy sighed, chin placed against the top of your head. "I was never mad at you, how could I be mad at this cute face?"

He pulled away just to squeeze your cheeks together, your pout increasing at the pressure but dwindling away once he pressed a kiss atop it. Yet still, even through your now growing smile, you poked at his chest with an accusing finger.

"You were to, mad! You ignored all my calls and texts..."

A pause lingered in the air, the two of you staring at each other with grins and playful eyes until Freddy let his head tilt from side to side in acknowledgement of your claims.

"...Okay, maybe I was a little mad." He confessed. "But can you blame me? Limited edition, collector's item Wonder Woman figurine. Ya' can't glue the head and limbs back on when the base has cracks in them."

You nodded in understanding, remembering how far the drop was from the top of the stairs all the way down to the bottom. Not that it was a purposeful drop, but accidentally losing your grip on it somehow weighed more guilt into your heart over the past few days.

Especially when you weren't really supposed to have it in the first place.

It was the whole reason you had scraped together the money for flowers and other gifts, as well as found the courage to apologize rather than victim-blame.

"No, I can't blame you, even though I'm starting to think you like her more than me."

"Never." Freddy quickly debunked such a thought, his head shaking from side to side with his eyes lingering on your hand dissapearing into the plastic bag.

"Which is why... well... I know I can't replace the figurine. I couldn't even find another, let alone afford it. But I hoped maybe... this could make up for it?"

He watched as you pulled out a medium-sized box, the majority color of it white with advertising and lettering all around until you finally turned it so that the see-through plastic faced him.

His eyes went wide and his lips curled into a wide grin, immediately taking the item into his hands and reading the packaging over and over again.

'Wonder Woman Funko Pop; Limited Edition Golden Armor'

'Wonder Woman Funko Pop; Limited Edition Golden Armor'

'Wonder Woman Funko Pop; Limited Edition Golden-'

"NO WAY!! AUGHHH, NO WAY, NO WAY, NO WAY!!"

Freddy's shout cut off his own thoughts and nearly scared the life out of you, your own nervous giggles mixing in with his wild cackles while he continued.

"You like it?"

"You little minx, you! How did you get this, where did-?! You-!"

"Don't even ask me that, I literally had a breakdown looking for it." You brushed, swift to pull out another box just alike. "I also found this. You talk about him a lot, too, so I figured..."

You handed Freddy the box, the boy's slacked-jaw dropping even further than you thought possible when he scanned over the writing.

'Captain Everypower Jr.'

"Junior?!" He shouted in disbelief, causing you to laugh with a shrug.

"I guess they mixed you and the red one up, I dunno'."

Freddy was about ready to go to war right than and there, but was swift to process your words upon the fact that you didn't know his biggest secret. So, having to keep his little rants to himself, he gave a "nonchalant" shrug and a half-smile.

"Yeaah, probably, that's...that's it. Wha- But thank you so much, (Y/N), this is... I... I dunno' what to say..."

"Thank you." You filled in with a curt nod and a satisfied smile, Freddy once again bopping his head from side to side in agreement before bringing you in closer for a short kiss.

"You're welcome~." He teased back, stealing your line like you had his.

It wasn't long before he had finally brought you inside, the two of you wasting no time to isolate in his room. Finding a place for his newest additions amongst his memorabilia. Eating away at the snacks you had bought him. And you, laughing at the fact he decided to put his bouquet of flowers in a glass Superman cup rather than an actual vase.

Freddy had never been a flower type of guy. And don't even get him started on having to pick a type of flower for you. He wouldn't know where to start, what to get, where to go...

But after tonight, he knew that hydrangeas were to be his new and permanent favorite flower.

I know this was short, but it is technically going to be half of a whole thing, considering I've got headcannons on the way, so I hope you've enjoyed so far!! Rmbr, be on the lookout for the hdcns because I will link them :).

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

Flowers HDCNS

[scrunkore]

Scrunkore Media "Thread" 2023: Part 7 (FINALE)

the scrunko core is dragged into 2024

77) Barbie (Movie, 2023)

What a wildly meta take on the most famous plastic doll in the world, this movie is a pink-tinted ride from start to finish with a lot of words to say about the patriarchy and consumerism, and it does it in such a strange way that I honestly have mad respect for. It's easy to see why it popped off so hard, it was fun and had very explicit political theming, as well as that banger Ken song. Very quirky movie that I enjoyed. [4.5★]

78) Sonic Dream Team (iOS, 2023)

Maybe I would have enjoyed this more had I played it on a device that ran it a bit better, but still, this was a pretty nice surprise drop from Sega's mobile game developers. You wouldn't expect an Apple Arcade exclusive Sonic title to have levels as fun as these with characters that play fairly well, but here it is, and I'm here for it. Short but sweet, a nice experience that doesn't offer much but what it does have is pretty good. I will say, some characters do sound kind of bad, though. Maybe they need better directing on the next one. Also I like Ariem, do more with her please. [3.5★]

79) Bocchi the Rock! (Anime, 2022)

Every social anxious gay girlie's favourite pink blob really is that pathetic, but honestly the show is pretty real about it once you look past the delightfully expressive nonsense going on with her animations. Genuinely like how joining a band doesn't magically improve Bocchi and she's still a nervous weirdo like a lot of us are or have been, but instead she just makes slow progress with a support network around her. And it does help the show's case that it's just a fun watch with some really good music, drawing inspiration from the likes of Asian Kung-Fu Generation (the main case are named after them lol). I was a year late to Bocchi, but now I totally get it. [4.5★]

80) Pokémon Violet: The Hidden Treasure of Area Zero (Switch DLC, 2023)

Pokémon DLC seems to be their "thing" now, and I can't complain because this stuff is genuinely pretty good, though not as exceptional as the main game. Fun new and returning creatures in brand new environments from different parts of the world, being a new part of whatever the Japan stand-in is called as well as the ocean around Unova (which they really have been pandering to), along with a genuinely pretty solid character arc for the new boy Kieran and a nice supporting cast. I don't think this DLC as a whole is anything mindblowing, but it adds some substantial new content to what is one of my favourite games in the series in spite of everything it has going against it. There's an epilogue to this coming too, but that already "leaked" because they left it in the game. Oh, Game Freak. [4★]

81) I'm in Love with the Villainess (Anime, 2023)

Himejoshi of the world rejoiced, for the series they have been gassing up for ages finally made it into anime form, and it was really quite good. What is initially just a silly romantic comedy about a girl who is just extremely gay for the villainess of the game world she was reborn into ends up having some pretty genuine moments with discussions of homophobia and sad backstories that hit. What I hope to be able to call the "first season" covered a nice amount of content and ended on just the right note to get you wanting more, and overall it's just very gay and very good. Helps that the light novels' author seems like a real one too, she's interacted with fans in every language she's able to and I'll have to read her original work. [4.5★]

82) Doctor Who 2023 Specials (TV, 2023)

Doctor Who is back, and they brought back an old showrunner and even an old Doctor for a bit to pretty entertaining results, along with introducing the next Doctor in a divisive but interesting way. I will say, some odd decisions were made there, but I don't really mind too much, as the special episodes released within the last couple months of the year were really fun adventures. Concluding a story that's over a decade old, introducing genuinely good trans rep, finally going back to a classic-era villain just to kick his ass, it's great to see. I think Wild Blue Yonder was the best of these, being perfectly weird as good Doctor Who often is, but they were all nice. Christmas special showed promise for 2024's upcoming series too, May can't come soon enough. [4★]

82.1) Doctor Who: The Daleks Colour Special (TV, 2023)

A curious addition to the 60th anniversary of the series was a cut-down edit of the Daleks' original serial from the 1960s remade in colour with unnecessary inclusions of music and some odd choices of what to trim from it. I'm not sure it was very good, but it was nice of them to bring back a frankly ancient story in a new way. An interesting experiment, perhaps.

82.2) Doctor Who: Liberation of the Daleks (Comic, 2023)

Apparently they want you to read this if you want to know what happened to the previous Sonic Screwdriver, which is kind of funny because that's not actually that big a deal within this rather silly story. It's a short and weird comic plot featuring a virtual multiverse of different quirky Daleks, yet another excuse to have them in something because they weren't in the main specials. I kinda liked it, though, it was fun enough.

83/84) Scott Pilgrim (Comic, 2004-2010)/Vs The World (Movie, 2010)

Took me long enough to get into this series, and yeah it is actually pretty good. Shitty people bumbling into improvement is something that does require reading comprehension to enjoy (lol) but this is a good story where you're obviously supposed to know Scott and indeed several of the other characters have and do make a lot of mistakes. The movie does make this worse as well, kinda skimming over most of the comics' storyline, but it's well-directed so it's good enough if you want to watch it. Really has fun with it, and the series is in fact quite funny especially with how pathetic the lead character is. I do recommend reading the comics, it's a series with a fun vibe but also they say the R-slur a few times because it was the 2000s so watch out for that. Luckily other media in the series avoids doing that, because by the 2010s most people figured you shouldn't say that. [4★/3.5★] 85) Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (Anime, 2023)

I can't believe they actually made Rebuild of Scott Pilgrim and that's not really hyperbole, this new Netflix anime based on the series does a great job of both deconstructing and fleshing out the source material in some really nice ways. Characters previously treated largely as jokes in the movie especially (poor Roxie) get a lot more thought put into them and many of the cast end up happier. I don't want to spoil a lot, but this is some good stuff that comes at everything from a different angle without sacrificing too much of what made the original stuff stand out. Might be my favourite of these. [4.5★]

86) Neo Yokio (Anime, 2017)

This show is so fucking stupid, so naturally it's the last thing I watched in 2023. It's some vapid rich person hipster shit but I think it knows that, and a lot of the comedy comes from that, but I feel some of the funny stuff is unintended too. Frankly it's hard to tell what angle it's going for, and it does have one kinda transphobic Ranma 1/2 parody, so I'm not sure if I'd recommend it in good faith, but it was a good thing to just mindlessly watch and laugh at from time to time. I'll watch the Christmas special at some point. [NEO YOKIO★]

And thus, the media "thread" comes to an end. That sure was a year in my life where I consumed media, I can say that much. Maybe for 2024 I'll be better at keeping up with this thing, but no promises. Still, this was fun enough.

Last part

[neverendingcomplaints]

That wasn't it.

This has been a spring/summer of surprises for movies for me. I wasn't expecting to like The Little Mermaid live action, but it turned out to be the best one imo - not that that is saying very much since these live actions are just blatant cash grabs but I would watch it again (except Scuttlebutt because). And I was super super hype for Barbie, but what a disappointment.

SPOILERS

Why was it so rushed? I felt no pay-off for anything because everything was just happening so fast. I didn't care nor do I understand the importance of America and her daughter to the story. They should have had more adventures in the real world, I think, instead of skipping back and forth like it was nothing. Also just in general, how dare they waste America Ferrera!

I don't care if it's a "choice" or not, the whole Take Sh*t Verbatim From Twitter or TikTok and Put It Directly Into People's Mouths thing is just cringey. The only people who talk like that, truly, are academics and maybe some university students who just started smelling themselves after taking a social sciences course. I'm sure there's a Professor Barbie but I'm pretty sure that wasn't Margot Robbie's Barbie. And coming out of a TWEEN'S mouth...That's not satire or absurdity, it's just bad and lazy writing to me. I think it let's Hollywood off the hook because why think of clever, entertaining ways to show all of this when they can just lift some cool tweets and academic work and throw that on the screen as lines? Easy Button!

Also, I know they were going for nostalgia and they are trying to sell us everything everywhere, but it was such a blatant commercial for Mattel. People are gonna run out and try to find Midge and Allan and and the Palazzo pants or whatever. I have never felt so uncomfortably aware of product placement and ADS in my life. But played for funzies tho *wink wink*!!!

I feel like I get what they were trying to do with the Ken stuff and Ryan Gosling was a FORCE so I'm not as unforgiving there, but it still felt kinda off to me. They sorta had the right idea but I definitely had a few Kens for my Barbies and they were together. They both hopped in Barbie's Jeep with Barbie and her friends and they kissed and hugged and even though I didn't have any of Barbie's homes, they lived together. I feel like some of the stuff with Ken didn't feel true to my experience of playing with them as a little girl - of course it was mostly about Barbie, but I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that she was just hanging with the girlies all the time. I get it - it was supposed to be an exaggerated reverse of the Patriarchy but I don't think anything would have been lost if the Barbies had treated Kens more like say, absurd 50s housewives than annoying puppies who whine and nip at your heels no matter how much you try to tame/reassure them.

People are saying it was just some summer fun but the dialogue suggests otherwise.

Ugh. I was hoping for another Mean Girls or Heathers - unapologetically fun and feminist with a strong message, iconic because it just undeniably IS. Instead, it's this pink plastic empowerment ad with some really funny moments (most of which were already out and about before the movie hit theaters) that felt kinda like forced iconic. Like the equivalent of companies "standing with" BLM or turning rainbow for Pride but it's actually just empty virtue signaling so we will all please keep buying their products please.

Really liked the beginning in Barbie Land, Ryan Gosling was the absolute perfect Ken and I've known it since day one because that man can act and kills comedy, kinda love seeing Michael Cera randomly in stuff lately, Margot IS THE BARBIE, and yes I'm sorry Midge was absolutely a creepy idea but there was no way Midge was not gonna be creepy because the whole process of pregnancy and giving birth is a little bit of a horror story if we're being honest. But that's all I got.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 27

Welcome to chapter 27.

So, we are still in Glasgow. Our two lovebird are having a tourist day and Rowan is showing Aelin some of his favourite sites of Glasgow.

Later on there is a moment that has a warning: your ovaries might explode because Rowan is just... let's just say that he will be such an amazing dad.

His accent has a bit of a transformation and he goes into Glasgow mode and in my head Rowan with a Glaswegian accent is so sexy that I want to cry.

In this chapter they cover quite a lot of ground and all the places I mentioned they do exist. These are the cloisters: https://i.redd.it/mxant25n4zh01.jpg. Glasgow uni is a truly amazing site but I particularly adore the cloister and the image does not do any justice at all to the place. This is Kelvingrove: https://peoplemakeglasgow.com/images/Things_to_do/Museums_and_galleries/Kelvingrove-995.jpg. another place that has a special place in my heart. Because it's free, every time I am in Glasgow I go in.

The Hunterian Museum is one of those hidden gems that when I was still working in tourism I used to recommend to everyone visiting Glasgow. It's incredible and the medical section is my favourite.

The Korean restaurant they visit is called Bibimbap and it's a place I adore a lot. Glasgow has a Lego store and like Aelin I always want to spend my entire salary in it.

I adore Glasgow. Deeply and as Rowan said, it's a very underrated place. I worked in tourism for almost 9 years and 95% of the people wanted to go to Edinburgh and bypassed and ignored Glasgow altogether. It's a shame. Its people are amazing and the city has so, so much to offer. I am waiting for lockdown to be over so I can go back.

Ok, I finished playing tourist office for Glasgow.

I leave you to the chapter <3

(If there are typos, as usual I am sorry, but after a long day at work my brain does not cooperate anymore)

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The following morning it was Aelin to be the first one up. Her stomach was grumbling loudly and she was starving. Slowly she disentangled herself from Rowan and went to the bathroom to get ready. She grabbed her phone and the forecast said another day of high temperatures so she dressed lightly. She was finishing getting ready when Rowan finally woke up. “I woke up before you for once.” She gloated. Rowan rolled on his back and stretched out his limbs “did you three sleep well?” She walked to the edge of the bed and sat beside him. He took her hand and kissed it, then sat up and kissed the bump and then Aelin “morning, my darlings.” “I slept beautifully. I was so tired that it did not take me long to pass out.” “And how do you feel this morning?” “I need to eat and then I am ready to explore.” She admitted while finishing packing her bag for the day. Rowan laughed “let me get dressed.”

Aelin sat on the bed and stared at him while he was getting changed “nice ass, Whitethorn.” In response he wiggled it and Aelin burst out in laughter “now get a move on. I am hungry.” “Fine.” He was ready in five minutes and together they walked downstairs for breakfast which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. Aelin had not been impressed by it and claimed that the option of continental breakfast was not exceptional so Rowan promised to take her to a nice place for a proper nice breakfast. Once they got back to their room Rowan prepared his backpack, which was now much lighter since all the snacks had disappeared. “Give me your hoodie.” “It’s a lovely day.” She protested. “Yes, Fireheart, but you have lived in Scotland long enough to know that it might not stay like that.” She gave him the hoodie and he packed it away, leaving Aelin with just her small bag. He grabbed their two water bottles “remind me to ask the hotel if they can fill these up for us.” Ten minutes later they were outside the hotel and Aelin was giddy “come on, old man. I want to explore.” Rowan took her for breakfast as promised and she was very satisfied with the place and declared that for the next few days that’s where they were going. Later on they arrived at Kelvingrove and entered the museum and noticed the sign saying that the following day they were going to close for a wedding reception. Aelin smiled at him and pointed at the sign “it’s the first time I go to a wedding reception inside a museum and a wedding inside a university. It’s so cool. I feel so special.” Inside the main hall they noticed the staff was busy at work setting up the tables and chairs for the following day. Aelin was stunned. The place was a dream with incredible architecture and at the end of the main hall there was an organ and Rowan explained to her that from time to time it was used and they had concerts. Rowan dragged her around the museum and they had great fun in the technology section were they fought off kids for a chance to play with the installations “they should stop hogging the displays, it’s not just for them.” Whispered Aelin. “Such a lovely maternal instinct.” “I want to play too.” She protested. Wondering around, Aelin had no idea where to look. There were plastic heads hanging from the ceiling in one of the halls, whereas in another one there was what she thought was a Spitfire. She had listened enough of Aedion’s talks about planes to have a general and very basic knowledge of some famous models. She took a photo and sent it to him. His reply came quickly and she laughed. “What?” “Aedion is jealous that I have a Spitfire hanging from my head.” “You need to tell him about two airshows we have every year in Scotland. The Red Arrows and the Typhoons are always there. I bet he’d love to be there.” “I’ll tell him straight away. He did three years in the Red Arrows. He probably performed in them.” “No way.” “Oh yeah, he is that awesome as a pilot.” It took them a few hours before they left the museum. Aelin loved it so much that Rowan had to literally drag her out with the excuse that there was so much more they had to see. They continued their walk inside Kelvingrove park and sat down for a while allowing Aelin to rest. “It’s amazing that there is such an incredible park near a university. I love it.” He pulled her close “On a sunny day I used to come and study in the park instead of the library. This area is my favourite part of Glasgow and it has some fantastic places where to eat.” “Are you okay for another walk or shall we sit a bit longer?”Aelin turned and leaned her back against him. Rowan, moved as well and placed his legs at each side of her and pulled Aelin against his chest. “Let’s relax a bit longer. It’s so nice around here.” “I was in student accommodation the first year,” he started telling her, “but then my friends and I found a flat just around the corner on Argyll st. I used to come for morning runs here, the park is very extensive.” “This is the only corner I have seen so far but it seems like a beautiful city.” She felt Rowan nod “It’s quite snubbed and very underrated. People tend to flock to Edinburgh and ignore Glasgow. Yes, it’s much more industrial, but that’s its heart and its identity. Glasgow was an industrial city famous for shipbuilding and, if you feel like it, we can walk a bit along the Clyde and you will see what I mean.” He kissed her ear “Its people are incredible and very friendly. It also has one of the best musical scenes in Scotland. I used to go to so many concerts.” “Did you regret going away?” “I…” he paused “I adore Glasgow. It has a special place in my heart, but I missed the islands. I could not see myself living in a big city no matter the advantages.” “You accent has changed a bit.” Rowan laughed hard “I ken. After four years of uni here I had lost my islands accent and I did sound like a proper weegie.” “A what?” “A weegie is someone fae Glasgow.” And in that moment she heard the heavy shift in his accent. Aelin finally sat back up “come on weegie, let’s go and see this uni of yours.” Rowan stood and pulled her to him for a kiss “it means a lot to share all of this with you.” She smiled “I am just trying to imagine a younger you in this environment.” He took her hand and slowly they started walking towards the university. “One step at a time, the road goes uphill.” Aelin had to stop a lot “drat, this is painful.” She said breathless. “Take your time.” Eventually they made it to the university main building and Aelin sat down on one of the benches in the main courtyard “Let me take a breath and then I will be ready to admire this beautiful place.” He kissed her head “all the time you need.” He stood in front of her “I have a few ideas for the rest of the day. It’s still quite early so we can do the uni. Then how do you feel about the Science centre? We can go there by public transport.” “In London I was obsessed with he national science museum. So, yeah, I am all for it.” “Then we can have a short walk along the Clyde just to show you and then take the bus back into town.” He brushed her hair “We can have lunch. Are you still craving Korean?” Aelin nodded vigorously. “Good, a restaurant might not cause any issues because I assume they know how to cook it. There is an incredible one in the centre.” “Done. What else?” “There are a few options and it all depends on how you feel.” “Unless I have to climb another mountain I am fine.” “So no Necropolis, then. We can stroll around Buchanan st. you can also do some shopping if you’d like. We can visit the merchant quarter which is quite charming and very central as well and if we are lucky we can catch a tour of Glasgow City chambers which is basically the HQ of Glasgow city council but it’s a spectacular building.” He offered “or we can go to Waterstones.” “Whitethorn, you are setting foot in a chain?” Aelin had quickly learned that Rowan was a great supporter of independent shops. Tesco was the only chain they used and just because it was handy for grocery shopping. He was a strong supporter of the community and hated mass produced stuff. “I know, but I love it. I must admit it’s a guilty pleasure. But it’s still books. Uh, I forgot, there is also a Lego store in one of the shopping centres.” “Ok, let’s visit the uni, then go to the science museum and take a walk along the river. Once we are in the centre we’ll have lunch and we go from there. But I definitely love the bookshop idea and the lego store.” “Good.” She gave him her hand and he took it and helped her get up “are you sure?” “Yes, I am rested enough.” They started walking along the uni quadrangles and Aelin had a feeling of being back in time. The building was magnificent and Rowan was playing cicerone and telling her all about every single building they were meeting. Then he stopped and placed his hands on her eyes. “What are you doing?” “Surprise.” He pushed and she started walking under his guidance. Once he was in the spot he wanted, he removed the hands and Aelin gasped. “Welcome to the cloisters.” The cloisters were nothing but low arches, but surrounded by the rest on the ancient building, they appeared like a wonderful and magical place. “This is gorgeous.” She walked around in a daze admiring he site “this is such a magnificent place where to get married.” Aelin took a few pictures and Rowan took a few of her while she was wandering around. She had the most amazing expression of delight in her face. She moved to him and folded her arms around him as much as the bump allowed it “dance with me.” He kissed her and his arms reached around her back and started swaying a little and humming a song in her ear. Luckily they were alone and they were not giving anyone a show. “It feels like the perfect place from a fantasy novel. I don’t know why.” “I always thought it like the main path to the house of an old wizard secretly living in the uni grounds. The kind of place where you would see people in dark cloaks strutting about or a couple of knights.” “I love that your mind wanders in the same places as mine and that we are weird together.” “I love my weirdo.” He said while making her twirl. Then he stopped and bowed to her “my Queen.” Aelin giggled “I really need to find you a sword. One of those fake ones people use for cosplays and such.” He grinned and took her hand “come, there is a place that I am positive you will adore.” She followed him and took a final look at the cloisters and tried to imagine it with a wedding happening under them. “Ok, there are steps unfortunately, but it will be worth it.” “Is it a collection of your pictures when you were a student. Naked ones perhaps?” Rowan laughed “no.” “That’s disappointing.” “It’s my favourite museum of all times. It’s called the Hunterian and there are two rooms that as a doctor I am positive you will adore.” At the top of the stairs Aelin stopped, breathless “I know it’s an historical building, but a friggin lift would be lovely.” He passed the water bottle to her “drink a little.” Once she was done they entered the museum and Aelin gasped. Rowan took her hand “Let’s go to the cool parts first then we’ll do the rest of the museum.” She followed him in silence. They reached a section and Aelin noticed it was all medical based. “This area is basically the history of medicine.” “No way.” Aelin started to walk around, amazed at what she was seeing “I did an elective on the history of medicine and it was fascinating.” “Ro, this is incredible.” Aelin left his hand and started wandering around in a daze “This is how it all started. How doctors started to discover how to cure diseases, although methods in the past might have been at times a bit unorthodox. This is it.” She kept walking along the cases admiring displays of ancient medical tools. This time it was Aelin’s time to be the guide and she was giving him a run through of what they were seeing. Rowan stared at her in fascination. Her face lit up in a joyful expression while she was admiring the collection. Once they finished the room, Rowan took her to the next surprise. “If you loved the other room, I have a feeling you will adore this one. Mr Hunter had an incredible collection of anatomical and pathological specimen and they were donated to the museum. The others are in the anatomy museum down the road.” “Can we go there, please?” “Of course. I have never been there so it will be a novelty for me too.” Aelin left him at the entrance and stepped into the room. Large glass cases stood all around and in the middle and inside she could see jars with formaldehyde and what she was positive were body parts. “Hunter was a pioneer anatomist and obstetrician. That’s why there are so many foetuses. He studied them and all the pathologies connected.” “Like all interns I had to take anatomy classes and we had to dissect cadavers. I was the only one who actually enjoyed those classes and never puked. I found it always so fascinating and for a while I had even contemplated becoming and pathologist and do post mortem and all that stuff.” “What made you change your mind?” “The rush that I would get in the A&E. I specialised in cardio thoracic and applied it to an emergency setting and I fell in love with it..” She kept walking “This collection is something incredible. Aelin stopped and stared at an heart without any blood in it. Rowan put his arms around her and his chin on her head. “A heart without blood looks so weird.” He commented. Aelin chuckled “I will never forget the day I held a beating human heart in my hands for the very first time.” “Tell me.” “I was assisting my mentor and he left me perform the surgery under his supervision. We knew there was damage but there was so much blood that it was impossible to see anything. So very gently I took the heart in my hand to try and find the damage. It was warm and beating, albeit slowly, against my palm. I literally had someone’s life in my hands.” “You are such a badass.” He joked. Aelin was explaining something to Rowan when a group of teenagers came beside them and the girls started to complain that the displays were disgusting. “What is this.” Asked one of the teens pointing at the jar with an empty heart that Aelin had just finished to admire.” “Looks like a lump of flesh.” Said one of them. “It’s a heart.” Aelin corrected him “That’s how a heart looks when there is no blood circulating.” She explained. “That is not a heart.” Aelin was on the verge of loosing her patience and Rowan placed a hand on her lower back “I am a doctor. I know how a heart looks like.” “It’s disgusting.” Aelin sighed and luckily the group moved away. “What?” She asked when she noticed Rowan’s stare “they ruined my enjoyment of this museum with their stupid comments.” “They were teenagers.” “So what? They were fucking stupid.” Rowan sighed and pulled her to him trying to calm her down “Come, let’s go and see the piece of a meteorite that landed near Glasgow.” They went to see the meteorite and then finished the rest of the museum but did not spend as much time on the displays as they did for the medical part. Aelin was fretting to go to the Anatomy museum so they headed out and Rowan took her there. If she had been impressed by the collection inside the Hunterian, Aelin had been definitely in love with the anatomy museum and Rowan allowed her to take all the time she wanted. Aelin also ended up chatting away with one of the staff members at the museum and Rowan had enjoyed seeing her so animated. “Did you had a nice chat?” He asked when she finally came back to him. “The guy is a retired doctor and we had the most fascinating conversation, sorry.” He kissed her gently “don’t apologise. It was actually quite amazing to see you in your element and there are conversation I can’t have with you because I don’t have the knowledge so it’s nice to see you so involved.” “I like our conversations,” she leaned forward and kissed him back “very much.” Once outside the university they went to take the underground again and they headed for the science centre. Once they arrived Aelin squealed “what is that?” She asked pointing at the metallic dome near the entrance. “That’s a cinema. They also have a planetarium.” “Shall we go?” “If they have a show while we are here, we can definitely do that.” “Come on.” Aelin took his hand and dragged him inside and she bought the tickets for both. They ended up spending a few hours inside the centre, playing with all the installations and once it was time they also did manage to catch a show inside the planetarium. “This was so fun. Who said that these places are just for kids?” Rowan threw an arm around her “can you walk a bit? I was thinking of taking you along the Clyde up to the squinty bridge and then catch a bus into town.” “Squinty?” “Yes, as in not straight. You will see why.” The day was hot and nice and Aelin lifted her head up to catch the sunshine and she felt amazing. They stopped in front of a massive crane. “This is the Finnieston crane.” Rowan added pointing at the massive construction “It’s the last vestige of Glasgow’s shipbuilding past. It’s quite iconic.” Aelin lifted her head. “It’s massive.” “It was used to load cargo on the ships. It had to be.” “I love it.” Then she looked around and noticed the bridge “Is that the squinty bridge?” Rowan nodded and they walked there and Aelin took a lot of photos. They walked to the bus stop and on the bus a lovely woman stood and offered her seat to Aelin since the bus was packed and Aelin was incredibly grateful. She wanted to keep exploring but her back was killing her and welcomed the chance to sit down. Rowan stood at her side and his hand brushed her hair “you are tired.” She shook her head “Please, let’s not go back to the hotel, I am having so much fun.” He sighed “are you hungry?” “Starving and really thinking about Korean food now.” He smiled back at her. After ten minutes he helped stand “That’s our stop.” Aelin turned to the woman “thank you so much for the seat.” The two got off the bus. The city centre was completely different from where they had been all morning. She could definitely tell they were in a busy city. “Let’s get you fed.” Rowan crossed the street and she noticed that the restaurant was just opposite them. They entered and asked for a table for two. Aelin looked up and noticed colourful umbrellas hanging from the ceiling. They sat at their table and Aelin went for the menu. She was ready to eat an elephant. She eyed some of the dishes the waiters were holding and she was tempted to steal one. They all looked so delicious. They ordered and then Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s “thank you for today. I loved all we did so far.” “I am glad you are having fun.” He squeezed the hand back “how are our two girls doing?” Aelin patted her bump “Just swimming about. I can feel them move and they kick from time to time which is a good sign.” He winked at her and in that instant the waiter arrived with their food and Aelin almost howled in joy “Finally.” “It looks much better than what I did.” “Yours was really good too.” His face saddened “So good that made you unwell.” “Ro, we don’t know. Stop moping. I loved it.” They went back to eating and Aelin was enjoying the food greatly “I think the only thing that I miss in the islands it’s the choice of ethnic restaurants. That’s my only issue.” Rowan chuckled “I agree. I was so used to the massive variety here in Glasgow that when I got back home it took me a while to get used to it. That’s why I learned to cook.” “And you are amazing at it. Just less veggies.” Rowan laughed “no chance.” “Spoilsport.” They finished eating and hand in hand Rowan led Aelin through the street of the city centre and they ended up in the merchant quarter and Aelin took in the magnificent architecture. “There is a big shopping centre, fancy doing some shopping?” “A bit.” He kissed her cheek “Let’s go.” They walked a short distance and eventually arrived at the Buchanan galleries. “You don’t like shopping centres…” “Shhh.” He said kissing the back of her head while on the escalator “There is the lego shop in here. Plus it makes you happy, so I don’t care.” They reached the first floor and they started walking and Aelin stopped when she noticed a baby shop “Ro, look.” She took his hand and dragged him inside “We don’t have anything for the twins. I know we are waiting for the bigger items until we are in the new house but look…” and she picked up a onesie “isn’t this adorable?” Rowan was too busy playing with a soft toy in the shape of an elf. With a big smile he turned to her “what about this?” Aelin stared at that giant of a man holding a soft toy with a tenderness that almost made her cry. Aelin went to grab a basket “make it two” she went browsing around the shop and her heart melted at watching Rowan picking up clothes for their girls. He came back with two tiny bathrobes that had cute ears and a dragon’s back ridge “I am so in love with you right now.” Aelin moved to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek while Rowan replied with a big toothy grin. She was positive they could get stuff for the girls at home but that shop had the cutest stuff and Aelin had every intention to splurge a nice whack of money on their daughters. She wandered around and got some essential stuff while Rowan was still looking at tiny dresses. He went to her with a big smile and two lovely dresses in his hands “I know they will outgrow them very quickly, but look at these.” His voice was the one of a father already madly in love with his daughters. He was holding two lovely dresses in green. “Add to the basket.” Was Aelin’s response at the clothes. Rowan took the basket from her hands which was slowly getting fuller and fuller “I’ll carry it.” “We have a green and blue theme going on here.” Added Aelin looking at the range of stuff in their basket. “They are lovely colours.” “I agree. And I am not buying pink just because they are girls. It’s a horrible colour.” Eventually they made it to the till. “You have a nice selection here.” Said the woman behind the counter “And two of each.” “Yeah, twins.” Added Aelin patting her bump. Rowan was about to pay but she stopped him “this is on me.” He reluctantly put his wallet away. Rowan grabbed the two bags and they left the shop, and Aelin was beaming and placed an arm around his waist. Then she spotted the lego store and Rowan knew he had lost her. She was inside the shop and was looking at the different set “Ro, am I crazy if I say that I want to spend my entire salary in here?” Rowan laughed “no you are not, but remember that we have to get back to the hotel and we already have two bags full of stuff.” “Look.” She pointed at a plastic container in the middle where you could create your own lego figurine. “Let’s build ourselves out of lego.” Aelin did manage to find the face, the hair and the dress she liked and she went for the queen style. Once she was finished she started creating a Lysandra and then an Aedion. And while she had already created three figurines, Rowan was still creating his. He had gone for the warrior look and also added a sword to his little character. “I love it.” She said, then placed the four figurines in the plastic container to protect them. She went to pay and he finally managed to drag her out and she sat on one of the benches exhausted. “We should go back to the hotel.” He commented when he noticed how tired she looked. “I agree. I don’t think I can walk any longer and my back is killing me.” “Sit five minutes then we’ll go and take the bus back and I am going to explain the situation to the hotel and ask if they let us order in.” His hand brushed her hair “we can stay in bed, watch tv and enjoy the evening in peace.” Then he looked at her exhausted face “ Or, I have a better idea. The station is right behind us. We’ll take a taxi.” “I love you.” Slowly they made their way to the station and got a taxi and once inside Aelin sighed relieved. She had tried to be brave but she knew she could not fool him. Rowan had been keeping an eye on her all day and she was positive he had noticed her exhaustion. They arrived at the hotel and Rowan grabbed all the bags “go upstairs, I’ll be with you in a minute.” She nodded and left him. Back in the room she removed her trainers with a sigh of relief and then changed into her pyjama and sat down in bed. It was only five in the evening and she felt bad at being back in the hotel already but she was wiped. Rowan arrived ten minutes later, he dropped the bags on the corner of the room and sat beside her “tell me what you fancy and I’ll order dinner later. I explained to the hotel your situation and they are okay. They offered to let us one of the table downstairs but I explained that you were probably already camped in bed, with little chance to move you again.” She kissed him “can we have Japanese?” “You can’t have sushi, you know?” He added, browsing for a place on his phone. “I know, smartass.” She lightly punched his shoulder. The food arrived an hour later and Aelin ate in bed, with Rowan sitting on the armchair beside the bed. “This is the perfect ending to a lovely day. I am sorry we had to cut it short.” She apologised. “Hey…” he said, grabbing her hand “I am impressed that you lasted that long. “I wanted to see more.” He placed his food on the nightstand and sat beside her in bed, pulling Aelin to his side “We’ll come back with the twins and do much more.” “Promise?” He kissed her “Pinky promise.” And he gave her his pinky, remembering the day they did that in his shop. It just felt so long ago. Once done eating, Rowan cleared the containers and changed into his pyjama and joined her in bed. Aelin was looking at the photos of the day on her phone. She flipped through them and found one of Rowan she liked “I guess I found my new home screen picture.” He leaned over and noticed his photo “When did you take it?” “When you were not looking. And I love it.” Aelin leaned against him and she grabbed his hand and moved it on the bump and sighed. “What?” “I was thinking.” “That’s very dangerous.” He chuckled. “Look how much difference a year made. A year ago I was just an annoying customer that you hated and kicked out of the shop. And now we are in this situation.” She said pointing at the bump “and a part of me is still scared. With Chaol we had no kids, yes it was a mess but at least we had no kids to suffer in midst of everything. If—“ He stopped her with a kiss “No ifs. No.” He kissed her again “I am going to be cheesy, so be prepared.” And Aelin laughed at the comment. “You are it for me. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I know that all I want is to spend it with you and our girls. It’s all I ask for. I want a family and I did not realise just how much until you told me you were pregnant. Fine, it happened earlier than probably both of us had planned, but I don’t care. We are in our late thirties, we both have jobs, we can afford a family.” Aelin caressed his face. “I lost track of what I was saying.” He grabbed her hand a pushed it against his cheek “Oh yes, I am a boring monogamist old man who feels very fulfilled at the idea of having a family with the woman he loves.” Aelin started crying “You can’t…” she sobbed “You can’t say things like that to a pregnant woman.” Rowan laughed and hugged her close “I am a sappy old fart when I am in the right mood.” “So sappy.” She added with a wet laugh while Rowan kissed her head “but I have a feeling you will be a super dad. Loving and caring.” “I can only try.” “We’ll try… together.” “To whatever end.” He added, kissing her.

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp​

[imaginethatneathuh]

Notes: Technical Boy - American Gods

Technical Boy x reader

1010 words, take it leave it

A meet cute, basically pure fluff.

“Masterlist”

He was beautiful.

The boy across the way.

Gorgeous blue eyes, smooth, brown hair, perfect skin with high, well-defined cheekbones, beautiful, pink lips that could make any girl jealous, and, despite the baggy, and eccentric, clothes, you could see his muscles.

It was creepy, you knew. Staring at someone like that.

But you couldn’t help it. He looked like a living Ken Doll.

The Ken Doll smiled and laughed at something on his phone. You could see the gap between his teeth. Quickly, he clothed his mouth, covering it with one of his sleeves.

Cute.

If his hair was a few shades lighter and shorter, his front teeth a little closer together (despite you finding it adorable), and his hair and clothes a little tamer, he’d be the epitome of American, male expectations.

Despite not wanting to be rude, you kept staring quietly over your drawing pad.

He looked impossible, like plastic almost. Completely unreal.

Quietly, and creepily, you took a picture of him.

You were never the kind of person to do something like that. But, beauty as rare as this, with such geometrical and symmetrical perfection, there was no way you couldn’t draw him.

Ken Doll was too perfect.

You turned to a new page in your notebook, ignoring the fact that you already started something else and had, in fact, started that before finishing the one before.

Using the photo and the real version, you began sketching. Well, trying to. The proportions never seemed right.

Looking up, you saw him smile at his phone and shake his head before scrolling on.

For a moment, you thought his form flickered. Like it was glitching. You shook your head, ignoring it.

You looked back down and continued, deciding to work on the background as it seemed easier than the person. Key word being seemed.

You worked on it until, finally, you got it right.

It seemed odd. In the hour that you had worked, he hadn’t moved from his spot on the opposite bench. If, of course, you didn’t count the small, quiet fits of laughter or him covering his mouth.

You lingered a little longer, studying him.

Once again, that’s really creepy.

It was as if he felt your eyes on him and he looked up. Only the briefest eye contact happened before you looked back down, slightly ashamed.

If only you realized that he had been stealing his own glances at you while you worked.

Instead of chancing looking at him again, you used the photo you took before to continue the drawing. You were quietly thankful that you were a creep and took it.

After a long enough while that you thought it was safe to, you looked back up, only to find his staring at you.

He blushed and froze, like a deer in headlights.

Smiling, you waved at him.

That seemed to be enough to warm him as he smiled and looked down, embarrassed. For staring or for freezing? You couldn’t tell.

Deciding to be a little proactive, you took a small memtobook out of your bag and wrote on it.

“You’re pretty.”

Crumpling it, you threw it at him. Well, tossed more like, but it is just a piece of paper. It can’t do too much damage.

The note landed in his lap, causing him to look up in surprise. Ken Doll picked it up and uncrumpled it, smoothing it out.

A grin spread across his flushed face as he read it. He looked at you then back at the note, grinning like an idiot.

Ken Doll grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled something down before crumpling it up and tossing it back.

Leaning forward a little, you snatched it from the air. The paper rustled as you opened it.

Four little words were written in something akin to chicken scratch. Legible, but barely so.

“Thanks. You are too.”

You smiled and looked up at the boy who shuffled his feet and seemingly collapsed in on himself, smiling slightly.

Scribbling your own messy writing, you wrote “You’re a messy writer.” and tossed it to him, crumpled up.

He laughed to himself before writing back.

Should you tell him? Nah. That’d be embarrassing.

“So’s yours.

What are you drawing?”

“Stuff,” you write back.

“Is that all I’m getting?”

“Yep.”

“It does have some of the park in it, yes.”

“Oof, that’s cruel.

Can you tell me if it’s of the park?”

A smirk formed on his face and he quickly scribbled something down.

“Am I in it?”

“Well, aren’t you a vain one.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

You smiled at the paper before writing.

“If you must know, yes, you are. Happy?”

Looking up, you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.

Can I see it?”

“You are incredibly vain and no, you can’t. It’s not done.”

“Can I see it when it is then?”

“Mhmm, no.”

“What if I said please?”

“No, sorry, it’s still a no from me.”

“Fine. Just don’t make me look ugly.”

“As if that’s possible.”

You erase the message before rewriting it and adding on.

“You can’t get anymore so.

What are you doing here anyway?”

Biting your lip, you looked away.

“Ouch, that hurts. Besides, I have it in writing that you think I’m pretty.

As for your question, chatting w/ a very pretty individual in the opposite bench.”

A ding on your phone caused you to look at it.

A message from your flat mate - Your baby got out again and I can’t find him. Where r u?

You texted back - OMW

Taking the paper, you wrote a goodbye.

“I’ve got to go. Emergency. See you again?”

Instead of tossing it over he walked, handing it, folded neatly, to you and left.

You opened it and a phone number with a note under it was written down.

“Send me that drawing when you’re done?”

You smiled before tucking the note in your pocket and packing up. You did have a rascally little cat to find after all.

[dwollsadventures]

An image for a thing I wrote, but have not yet finished. Instead of re-writing everything, the summary is is that's it's a pokemon theory about pokemon species and how independent species form a bond that allows them to evolve into another. So, for instance, remoraid and octillery are actually separate species, but they have a biological (or magical, it's just magic) that means when an octillery lays an egg it will always hatch into a remoraid. And explaining why pokemon do this (safety, resource management, ecological pressures, etc.). 

Will it ever get released? Who knows. Lately, with college approaching and all the hurdles they're making me go through for registration (none of it related to Covid, if you can believe it, I've just got a personal gremlin ruining my records and stuff whenever I have to interact with clerical stuff with any school), I haven't had much will to draw. I might, because usually this fanart-y stuff gets more attention than original stuff. Which might trick my brain into being more productive. But whatever. 

Hey, remoraid! I chose arrokuda to accompany remoraid in the fish family because actual remoras and barracudas are more closely related than any other fish pokemon. And clobbopus is there because they're both octopi. If I were to make a pokemon family tree I probably wouldn't go the normal way of assigning pokemon to certain real-world animals and lumping everything else in a "therapsid" branch. But I chose to do it this way for simplicity's sake. And because I like arrokuda's toothy grin. Both of the newer pokes are done with the newer artstyle they go with, all clean lines and plastic-y shading. The older two are done with the watercolor style of Ken Sugimori (or at least the nearest I could get to it).

[lizwontcry]

roman/gerri - logan walking in on a kiss

Thank you for this! I got a lot of good prompts but this is the one that inspired me the most this evening, plus I watched the elevator scene on the Good Wife and decided to plagiarize it. 

AO3 Link - 

"Roman? Are you paying attention? This is actually important to, you know, the company continuing to exist for the next couple of years."

"No, Frank. I'm not paying attention. It's Friday afternoon. Nobody wants to be here. But please do continue, we're all fucking riveted by your lilting, passionate, sexy voice."

Frank sighs. He continues the meeting to talk about whatever the fuck, but Roman can't concentrate, since, as usual, Gerri is sitting next to him.

It's unbearable, actually.

Sitting next to Gerri practically all day, every day, in meetings, in their office, in the car, on the plane--wherever they go, they go together. It's easier that way, for the CEO and COO to travel with each other, especially since Gerri is basically Roman's business tutor. He is definitely making progress; he needs less and less instruction with each passing day. But that does not mean he needs Gerri less. No--it's the opposite.

Like, take this boring as fuck meeting, for instance. Frank is droning on and on about facts and figures and how important it is that they drum up numbers in Parks since Cruises is, obviously, a complete fiasco at the moment. Roman knows he should pay attention to Frank, but... Gerri is not listening to Frank, either. She's doodling on a yellow note pad. Little swirls and lines, Roman notes with interest. Everything Gerri does is interesting to Roman. Like, her hair is in a bun today. Kind of a messy bun. She seems a little more disheveled than normal. With her glasses on and her obligatory matronly attire, she looks like the usual kindergarten teacher that Roman has come to know and love, but with the messy hair... it's just, like, hot.

He scoots his chair a little closer to Gerri, and she looks up from her doodle and gives him a small smile, and he wonders how he ever got so completely fucked up from a woman that this tiny gesture makes his whole fucking day. Did she cast a spell on him or something? It sure feels that way sometimes.

Their "thing" has more or less been put on hold for the time being, since they are both too busy to engage in anything other than gluing the pieces of Waystar Royco back together. However, there's all these unsaid conversations that linger between Roman and Gerri. He sees the way she looks at him when she thinks he's not paying attention--she feels it, too. It's not just the longing glances--Roman can't really explain it. There's this... heaviness to their interactions, like something is missing, but neither of them know what to do about it. So what the fuck? Is he just always going to have a massive case of blue balls whenever they're in the same room together now? Because he's certainly not getting over this crap any time soon.

For just a second, Roman can't take it any longer and he touches Gerri's hand, the one that is doodling a straight line across the yellow note pad. Gerri stops her drawing and looks at him in surprise. Their eyes meet, and they acknowledge something. Something to be determined, but it's definitely... something.

Roman doesn't take his hand away immediately. Nobody else in the room is looking at them, anyway. They're checking their email or writing notes; some are actually even paying attention to Frank. So he runs his pinkie across the soft skin of Gerri's hand, and she allows it, as though she wants it, or even willed it to happen. He stops touching her when he notices, with extreme pleasure, that she has goosebumps on her arm. And then he starts to wonder, if just touching her hand produces goosebumps, what would happen if...

"So that's what we need to work on next week. I'm serious, people--this is a priority. Now get the hell out of here," Frank says, and nobody has to be told twice--everyone scatters out of the room and Frank is not far behind.

Gerri and Roman linger after the room empties. She puts the notepad and her laptop in her briefcase. Roman shoves all his stuff into the backpack he's been carrying around lately out of necessity. Maybe he should get something a bit more professional, but, like, who has the fucking time?

"So where are you headed?" Roman asks her as they leave the conference room.

"Are you kidding? Back to my office. There's still so much left to do."

"Ah, come on, Ger. It's Friday. Let's go have a drink."

"Roman, really--"

"One drink won't kill you. Across the street. It's happy hour; we can make fun of all the coked out Wall Street fucknuts."

Gerri exhales, and then nods hestitantly.

"I suppose one drink won't hurt, but then I have to get back here, and let me remind you, Roman, so do you."

This is unfortunately true. The role of COO never fucking stops, even on a Friday night. He can't help but think of what he'd usually do on a Friday night in the past; it always had something to do with tall blondes, snorting things, and passing out in some East Side shithole and waking up feeling like he'd been run over by a 747. Oh, the days of yore.

At the bar, a shitty dive that thankfully is bereft of the Wall Street fucknuts, they have more than one drink. They have three or four or seven or something--they lose count. Roman knows he's a bad influence on Gerri but he can't help it. He loves to see her let her hair down, which she literally does after her third shot of tequila that he encourages her to order. He watches lustfully as she takes it down and shakes it out, letting the soft blonde waves settle over her shoulders.

"Dammit, Rome, why do I let you get me into these situations?" Gerri slurs after she slams the shot glass down on the table. "You are bad."

"Yeah. But you like it when I'm bad."

Gerri laughs, and doesn't deny it.

"Come on, let's get back to the office. I have all those briefs I need to finish by Monday."

"I have some briefs you can finish," Roman blurts out.

"Uh-huh. Well... that's something we can discuss later--"

"Gerri Kellman! What's a girl like you doing in a bar like this?" Some asshole who looks like he lives inside a plastic surgery appointment sidles up to the table and interrupts this very important thought that Roman desperately wants to follow up on--typical.

"Oh, hello, Will. Will, this is Roman--"

"Roman Roy, of course! The new COO of his dad's company. Congrats, by the way."

"Gee, fucking thank you, Will. Lovely to meet you and your fake fucking lips," Roman says. He does not like Will, or his weirdly constructed face.

"What was that?" Will asks, clearly confused.

"Oh, Roman was just complimenting your... shoes," Gerri says, trying to keep herself together. "Please excuse us, Will. We have to get back to the office."

"Of course. Why don't you call me later, Gerri? We never finished discussing that trip to the Vineyard we were planning..."

Gerri just chuckles and nods, and pushes Roman out of the bar. They walk back to the office, arm in arm, so they don't tip over and die in the remnants of rush hour Manhattan traffic.

"Who was that douchebag? You were going on a fucking trip with him? He looks like a Ken doll that was left in the washing machine for 60 years."

Gerri laughs. Roman loves to make her laugh.

"Just someone I went on a date with once. Why? You jealous?"

"Of course I'm fucking jealous, Gerri. Like, haven't you figured that out yet?"

They're back in the lobby of the Waystar Royco building. It's nearly 8:00 PM and it's almost empty.

"Roman..." He can see that she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. She looks kind of wobbly, actually. "We should--but we never have time..."

Roman, who is rather unsteady himself, tries to think of the right thing to say.

"We've always had bad timing, haven't we?"

"We have..." Gerri admits.

"What if we were to suddenly have good timing? Just for... an hour. What would that look like?"

"I think that... would look like an exceptional moment," Gerri says softly.

Roman can't help it--he grins. He grabs her arm and they walk unsteadily to the elevator. While they wait for it to open, they share all kinds of longing, drunken, and weird sexual looks. Roman wonders if everything that has occurred in the last couple of months--going to management training at Gerri's suggestion, their odd phone sex arrangement, the way she so easily gets him off by the sound of her voice, even being taken as a hostage--has all led up to this moment. If so, it was all fucking worth it.

When the elevator arrives, an eight-year-old kid and his mother, who looks to be at about her wit's end with him and his entire existence, step off it.

"Kevin! What have I told you about not pressing all the buttons?"

"Sorry, Mom," the little boy says, sounding not sorry at all.

Roman doesn't advocate child abuse, obviously, but like, he just really wants to slap this kid.

Indeed, when Gerri and Roman get on the elevator, it looks like every fucking button has been pushed. And they're going to the 49th floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Roman mutters, shaking his head. All he wants to do is get Gerri alone in his office and see what she's wearing underneath that prim and proper white blouse she has on, but fate does not seem to have the same plan.

Instead of maybe getting off on the next floor or something that would make more sense than waiting as the door opened on every level, Gerri moves closer to Roman. Their backs are against the wall of the elevator and they are standing almost too close together now. Roman can smell the sweet scent of her perfume that he has come to know as Gerri's signature. The tension is absolutely fucking ridiculous at this point.

On floor three, Roman touches her hand with his pinkie again. On floor five, Gerri grabs his hand, and holds it until floor seven. On floor eight, Roman turns to regard her closely. She's looking at him like she's ready to make a drunken mistake. The doors continue to open and close, with no one there to get on or off--not that they'd even notice if an entire fifth grade class and/or a mariachi band joined them in the elevator. They continue to stare at each other, weighing the pros and cons of just fucking going for it, until floor thirteen. That's when Roman says, "fuck it," and he leans in to kiss her. He just fucking kisses her. He grabs her and kisses her fiercely, and sort of to his surprise, she kisses him back just as fiercely. On floor 22, there's even tongue involved. A lot of tongue.

The doors are still opening and closing and they aren't even paying attention. By floor 28, his hands are roaming freely, and she's moaning a little. By floor 31, Gerri bites Roman's lip and now he's the one moaning. Roman has never even enjoyed kissing all that much--like what's the fucking point? But this singular experience is giving him a brand new appreciation for it.

Or maybe it's because Gerri is the one he's kissing.

By floor 40, the kissing has tapered off a little, so they can stare deep into each other's eyes. However, on floor 44, the kissing resumes. Roman wraps his hand around Gerri's neck and brings her closer to him, and she puts a warm hand under his coat, and then under his shirt, on his back. If he wasn't hard before, now he could launch a fucking space shuttle from his pants.

Finally, on floor 49, the door opens for the last time. They are still holding on to each other for dear life, expecting to haul ass directly to Roman's office, where his newly purchased sleeper sofa is waiting for the next act of this satisfying play they're trying to direct. However...

"What the fuck is this?" The last person on fucking Planet Earth that Roman expects to see is standing there staring at them. Logan. His dad. "Romulus? Gerri fucking Kellman? Well, don't just stand there looking like deaf fucking mutes. Explain yourselves!"

And they are stunned speechless... but at least now they're able to stop kissing.

[lightthewayofficial]

Chapter One: Atticus

The Parish family have been in the service of the Klaus Foundation since 1853. Queen Victoria and King Albert, both partial to a Christmas celebration, had countless serving staff to make their holiday as spectacular as possible, William Parish being amongst them. Bill had shown a particularly commendable demonstration of seasonal good-will when he’d saved Queen Vicky from being set alight by one of the Christmas tree candles. Saving the British Monarchy from being burned alive was very much considered in line with the Christmas spirit, and he was thus knighted by the reigning Santa Clause (at the time, this was Georg Klaus II). 

Parish continued to serve the British Royal Family into his old age. Whilst his children did not receive work within the palace, they were offered a coveted place at the Klaus dinner table and an invite to the Boxing Day Ball every year. After Bill’s daughter, Molly, managed to quickly avert a Christmas pudding related crisis- rather too much brandy, rather a lot of bushy beard in proximity of the pudding’s flame- it made sense for Georg II to employ the Parishes permanently. The Klaus Foundations’ fire-putter-outers. Today, the most recent generation of Parishes has recently hung up his fire hose, though, disappointingly, he didn’t get much of an opportunity to use it. 

His son, Atticus Parish, is currently stepping off the District Line at High Street Kensington to meet his girlfriend, Saskia Harper-Smith. He is ready for a cigarette after a long day of photocopying, and he’s absolutely bloody starving, because a Pret-a-Manger crayfish salad may be delicious but it certainly isn’t filling.

I am that man. Enough of the pretentious third person- I am Atticus Parish. And if I have to spend one more day at that Advertising company, I may just start tearing the photocopy machine apart bit by bit, and throw all the pieces across the office. I feel like I could easily revert back to my caveman days if I slip, even just a little. One more ‘are you busy, Atticus? Could I trouble you to print 300 of these flyers?’ and I’ll be a monkey flinging poo at the zoo enclosure window. 

Usually, the Christmas spirit is enough to pick me right back up. These past few weeks, I’ve seen Kensington High Street putting up its lights, colouring its shop windows with stockings and wrapping paper, litter the streets with after-school and after-work shoppers. It’s nice. I can smell cinnamon when I walk past Starbucks. I can wrap my scarf closer around my neck and sink into that seasonal feeling that usually has butterflies fluttering in my belly. Typically, I’m that person who’s sickeningly festive and starts playing Michael Buble in October. 

What can I say? It runs in my family. 

But there’s something different this year. And the year before that. And before that. Really, it’s since I left University. It’s like, whatever little switch that I have in my brain that automatically flicks on when 1st December rolls by has gone faulty. The fuse has tripped and I can’t turn it back on. These past few years I’ve been fumbling in the boiler room cupboard searching for the bloody thing with a little torch, and I just can’t find it. 

Actually, I don’t think that feeling is just reserved for my missing Christmas Spirit. This disorientation has been a general feeling for a while. Sometimes, it seems like every single twenty-something year old feels the same. 

An ambulance screams down the High Street. Boys in their school uniforms trapse out of Sports Direct, unable to afford any of the shoes they’ve had their eyes on all year. I turn left and step in a puddle that smells suspiciously of beer and piss. That’s just the fragrance of London. 

I put in the keycode for Saskia’s apartment building, opposite the Indian Restaurant that I always have to go to to pick up the food because Saskia’s called shotgun. I take the steps one by one, very slowly, and I open the flat door with my key. 

Saskia is home. This is unusual. She sits on the dogleg sofa with her tight-clad feet tucked under her bum. She extends a cigarette towards me before I even get to ask her how her day was. 

I take the cigarette. She’s staring at the page of her book. “How was your day?” I manage to ask. 

“Oh,” she sighs, in the way that says, oh, you know. Shit as usual. “Wine’s open on the counter.” “Brilliant.” I see the bottle of Campo Vecchio open on the black, marble top counter. I walk past Saskia’s abandoned Leboutins, towards the bedroom. 

I leave the door open behind me as I remove a suitcase from our shared wardrobe and begin to throw in random pairs of underwear. 

I hear movement on the sofa.

“What are you doing?” she asks, as if she already knows. 

“I’m going to The North Pole,” I reply, a bit giddily. 

“Don’t be daft.” I can smell her cigarette smoke, and it reminds me that I haven’t lit mine. I take a lighter from my jacket pocket and light the cigarette dangling between my chapped lips.  “You haven’t told them you’re coming.”

I pause, pyjama bottoms in hand. “That’s true. I haven’t been back in about fifteen years. It’d be rude to turn up unannounced, wouldn’t it?” “It’s less that,” Saskia calls casually. “I’m sure they’ll be slobbering all over a Parish, back in the good old NP. It’s more that you might not have a job waiting for you there.” My packing slows as I begin to fold my pyjamas carefully. I tap my cigarette on the closest mug; the ash was very close to burning a small hole through my tartan PJs. 

“Ever sensible. What would I do without you, Sas.” “Well, you’d better start thinking up the answer to that fast. Pole’s a long way away, sweet.”

I come to a stop then. Slowly turning around, I measure the view of my girlfriend, sat in her minimalist living room with smoke drifting around her straightened, dark-brown hair. She’s still burrowed in her book. 

“I’m sorry, Sas.”

That makes her put down her book, looking at me over the back of the sofa with a frown. “What on Earth are you apologising for, Atticus? You and I both know we don’t love each other that way.” At this point, Saskia’s blunt delivery shouldn’t come as a shock. It does, even now, even after knowing her for five years. “I know. I mean. We’ve spoken about it. But that doesn’t make it less rubbish that I’m up and leaving.”

She turns back to her book. 

“I’d rather you’d go if it’s your gut instinct, Attie. Your gut’s always been a good guide.”

“Only when you need help choosing from the takeaway menu.” She doesn’t laugh. I laugh to myself a little, though. 

“What made you decide this now?” she continues. “You could pop back to your apartment and get some proper clothes. You haven’t left an awful lot here.” “It just struck me as I was walking through High Street Ken.” “Ah. The horrible commercial aspect of it all?” I’m on hands and knees, rummaging under Saskia’s bed. She has some of those amazing vacuum pack things with a few of my winter jumpers in. I pull one of the packs out and it’s rock hard, like a sachet of compressed cocoa powder. 

“Sort of,” I say, voice coming out strained as I try and open the vacuum nozzle. “It’s just-” I pop the nozzle open, and it wheezes like an air mattress. “All the stuff in the news. The horrible political situation. Ice caps melting.” “Mmm.” “And what people need most is hope, a light to guide them, and instead it’s iPhones and Build-a-Bears.” “I like iPhones.” “And I like Build-a-Bears,” I continue, opening the vacuum bag and finding my warmest Edinburgh Woolen Mill knitted item. I have a fair few. “I’m not diminishing the power of a good present, of those little gestures. Of those things in life that make you happy. But the world is just so much more complex than our parents ever made it out to be, and now-”

There’s a thud from the apartment upstairs. The neighbours’ toddler has just started walking, and she keeps bumping into things. The comes a shrill cry as she registers that she’s fallen over. 

“Now,” I continue, “even when there’s good intentions behind it, even when these material things are helpful or fun or good, or whatever, it’s hard to forget that it’s probably been made in some sweatshop. Or that the company that came up with it isn’t paying any taxes- or it’s burning down the Amazon Rainforest. Or that one action figure is wrapped up in layers of pointless plastic packaging.”

A deep breath. And then I fold a second jumper and put it in the suitcase.

“Oh. Sorry- mind if I steal your suitcase, Sas?” “No. Has all of this only just occurred to you? And when did you become such a pessimist, Atticus Parish? I’ve never known you to talk like this, and quite frankly it’s terrifying.” I’m searching through my shirts. Why don’t I own any turtlenecks? “I know, it really is terrifying.” “Does this mean that you’re officially pursuing the Parish family business at Klaus Foundation, then?” “I suppose it does.” I zip up the suitcase.

“I’m.” There’s a pause, and I hear here close her book whilst I’m zipping. “I’m happy for you, Atticus. It’s always mattered to you, spreading hope and joy and all those sorts of things. Much more of a natural at Christmas spirit than me.” I’ve forgotten my toothbrush. My voice echoes in the bathroom as I say, “How would you know? You could be a natural. You’re a Smith who’s never wielded a blacksmith’s hammer before. Have you ever wielded a hammer, Saskia Harper-Smith?”

“No, and I daresay I never will.”

I pull the heavy suitcase off the bed- I packed too many shoes, but never mind- and I suddenly catch my reflection in the full-length mirror. Red curls getting too long, nose still red from the cold outside. Looking more energetic than I have in a long time- which is only, really, the sort of thing you notice when you’ve been particularly sluggish for a long time. Suddenly, I feel like I don’t have the time to stop and think about all of this. 

The sound of the suitcase rolling on the polished concrete floor is horribly loud. Saskia is standing, cigarette put out, only halfway finished. Her large eyes look suddenly larger and more childlike than they ever have before. 

“Look after yourself, thank you,” she demands.

“Of course, darling.” I bring her into a hug. She doesn’t typically like them, but I do, and she acquiesces today. I feel her skinny hand pat me awkwardly between the shoulder blades. 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I mumble into the material of her cardigan. 

There’s barely a beat’s hesitation before she replies, “Yes you do.”

✨✨✨✨

It’s been a very long time since I’ve been on the boat to Håperg. 

This close to Christmas, it’s frankly irresponsible that I’m on this boat close to the darkest, coldest time of the year- and it’s remarkably lucky that these kind people have offered to take me. But here I am, and here they are, and I’ve done my best to offer them some of my tea from my flask as a thank you but they just smile and shake their heads politely. 

Seagulls screech overhead. I’m always amazed by how far-out seagulls fly- I don’t know enough about their eating habits to understand what they’re doing here. They’re probably thinking the same of me. The water occasionally splashes over the side, though the current isn’t that bad. It’s the ice that’s the problem, and I can’t shake off that unsettling feeling that we’ll just be the miniature version of The Titanic and end up sinking out here. When I came out here as a child, I didn’t really think about my own mortality so much. Now, I’m looking around and all I see is the receding shoreline of Spitsbergen and the sun failing to reach the horizon, that weak, pinkish glow dusting the clouds. It’s a bit terrifying.  

It’s perfect here.

I remember how much I loved it the first time, when I was six; the second time when I was ten. My lasting memory of both visits is the taste of chocolate and the cold scraping up my lungs. I loved it here, I loved seeing where my father came to work four months of the year. I won’t ever fully understand why he tried to put me off it, and I won’t understand how he almost succeeded. 

I close my eyes and breath in, and let the gentle rock of the boat silence my thoughts. The old engine roars and the seagulls continue to sing. I watch the ripples in the water, the pink and the stars reflected in the mirror sea-surface. 

It takes a good couple more hours for the boat to moor. The ocean is eerily still, the wind whistling in a high-pitched shriek. It picks up the ice in the air and whisks it around. It’s pitch-black out here now, as it will be for the next few months of the year. And this would be a frightening place, if not for the glittering lights of Håperg in the distance. Like fallen stars on the horizon. It’s just as welcoming as I remember it, an atmosphere of comfort and safety that could almost make you forget how unbelievably cold it is. And how many days it’s taken to get this far from London. 

The two men who’ve brought me here from Spitsbergen busy themselves with docking safely. One of them takes my suitcase, completely ignoring my inarticulate complaints- complaints that are essentially just me waving my hands about uselessly. The other hums something tunelessly to himself, unknotting some rope and, amazingly, pulling away his fur-lined hood. These men are made of stronger stuff than me. 

The step from the boat to the ice is high. The ice is slippery. I wobble in my descent and make a bit of a tit of myself, but that’s to be expected. 

“First time, yes?” The man with my suitcase asks. I feel terrible, I had asked for his name, but he didn’t give it and I’m too awkward to ask again. 

“Yes. Wait, no, sorry. This is my third time. But, the first in a very long time. I came as a child.” Through the flickering whisps of fur, I see the wincing expression of a young man. “Good. You remember the cold.” “Oh yes, hard to forget,” I call out over the wind. 

We walk for a minute or two through the snow- no idea where- and I learn that his name is Jakob. He learns my name. He asks whether I’m expected at Klaus Lodge, and I say no. His jovial laugh makes me wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake. How incredibly presumptuous I’ve been, just turning up like this. 

Jakob comes to a stop by a shed and some parked sleds. The poor sod still has Saskia’s bright pink suitcase in his hand as he whistles loudly with the other, thumb and forefinger in his mouth. At first, I have no idea what he’s trying to summon. It’s dark and the flakes of ice in the air make it hard to see anything except for Håperg’s distant lights. But then, I see them. They bound over and I can hear their excited yelps. 

“Huskies!” I cry like a boy.

My new friend laughs. “You like dogs, I hope.” “I love them.”

I watch them run over, though I have no idea where from. There’s eight of them, and the front two are grinning with their tongues hanging out and breath blooming in clouds. There’s snow spraying around them like they’re jumping in puddles. And honestly, I haven’t felt such childlike joy in years. 

They crash to halt and run circles around us, yelping in excited, high-pitched cries as they jump up at Jakob. He pays them no attention, walking soberly towards the sled and expecting them to follow, which they do. They’ve been trained well, even if huskies tend to be a little bit bonkers. That much I remember. One of the front runners is wagging his tail so hard the whole back half of his body is swinging from side to side. 

“Blåbær will take you there.”

I run my gloved fingers through the frontrunner’s fur. He turns to nip playfully at me, perhaps also a bit defensively, before sniffing my hand and rubbing his face on my shoes. “I take it you’re Blåbær,” I call out to the dog over the roar of the wind. 

“He is best.”

I couldn’t agree more. 

Jakob loads me and my silly suitcase onto the sled so that we’re lying down in front of the handle and reigns. It makes me feel like a piece of luggage. And then I watch him hook up all the huskies, standing diligently in line and occasionally chattering to each other. And then I feel him take his stand at the helm. 

And then we’re off, and I get just the smallest amount of whiplash from the sudden start. I also get a faceful of snow from the huskies’ paws. It’s in my eye, which hurts a lot, and it melts in my mouth, too. I cling onto the suitcase. The mountains start to take shape through the flurry. I look up- the stars are watching our journey to Håperg. And- my God. The Northern Lights. They’re doing a Mexican wave above our heads in greens and yellows and blues, like an 80s synth dream. 

Something about it all has my heart radiating, making ripples of rightness through my chest. It has taken me too long to come here. 

At least I’m here now.

[asphaltvalhalla]

2019 Volvo XC60: Helicopter Parent

In a fit of stir craziness, I hopped in the jet and sped off to Earth for 10 days of hiding from the COVID in the forest (instead of a God-forsaken Martian hellscape). I paid for a rental Corolla. My dear friends at Avis said, “your 9-passenger Chevy van is ready for you!“

When the bus pulled up to the lot, the Avis app told me that my Grand Caravan, white, but with trendy black wheels, was in slot whatever, right by the dropoff.

“Better,” I thought, “but I would still prefer the Corolla I prepaid for.” Before getting all Ken on the manager about this unseemly “upgrade,“ I checked the app again. Minivan? Check. Chevy van? Still available! Volvo? Wait, what? Get this boy a chicken dinner!

I didn’t care that it was a grocery getter Volvo and not some $100K Polestar saloon. Like 90% of American SUV buyers, My only concern was that the “utility” part wasn’t wearing minivan sheet metal. I get enough Dad Bod/Mom jeans snark already.

Then I started driving it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s a competent $50K Scottsdale trophy wife-worthy quasi-truck. The devil in the details is relentless.

So here’s what’s good:

Smooth leather seats.

2 pane panoramic moonroof with theatrical retracting sunshade.

7 or 8-speed transmission.

All Wheel Drive. Something of actual utility in Michigan

Adjustable driving modes.

Harman Kardon sound system.

Built-in GPS (that wasn’t deactivated by Avis to sell an addon)

SiriusXM - no subscription. About the regular radio - I couldn’t find the preset setting to delete all the hate talk and religious channels these rentals often have. On the plus side, instead of presets, the radio automatically put in all the stations whose signal was strong enough to register. While driving up the Michigan Coast Highway, there was an occasional bleed over between the local station and the Chicago station using the same frequency.

WiFi Hotspot. Sounds good in theory. The feature was buried in a menu I stumbled upon on my last day with the car. (Karen: How am I supposed to read the Facebook without wifi?)

Some of the safety stuff my Honda has - adaptive cruise, lane departure, driver alertness, traffic sign reading.

Configurable (sort of) gauges.

Parallel parking assist.

Invisible to cops

Approach/puddle lights are stellar

Then there’s the other stuff:

The engine light was on. Step one - check the gas cap. There isn’t one. OK. Step 2, check the oil. Good luck with that. There’s no dipstick, dipstick. Somewhere in the cascade of menus (once you figure out how to get there) is a screen that tells you the oil level. Avis thought it might be cheap (i.e., low octane) gas. The car demands premium. It’s a turbo, so that should be a given. A tank and a half later, that wasn’t it.

TFW you need to scrub off speed quickly and you slap the lever a few times and you’re still in 4th or 5th gear.

The half-hearted cleaning by the rental company highlighted the cheap brittle plastics on the center console. I noticed both, because I had to unstick the buttons. Cue the frat house flashback of incongruous, mysterious (and best left that way), sticky things.

I couldn’t really tell much of a difference between driving modes, except for “Off-Road.“ Basically, it uses low gear hold and engine braking and maybe regular braking to slow your descent. I kept in in sporty most of the time, for the sake of the S in SUV. Economy mode made the engine start/stop more aggressive, like when coasting.

The tech. A blessing and a curse.

Factory GPS loves the highways. It only wants to tell you the fastest way to your destination. She’d get so PO’ed when I detoured or stopped to look at a thing.

“ Harman Kardon” audio sounds promising. I remember that name as being on stereo components I could not afford. Do you want to explore the sound quality? Have your passenger scroll through 17 menus.

Basically, always have a passenger, even to change the temperature.

You’re so naggy, Karen. The lane departure is supersensitive. The traffic sign and lane departure don’t sync up for things like construction zones. Driver alertness is 3 strikes and you’re out. Karen wants you to pull over.

Karen is happy to tell you when you’re in a no-passing zone. She is blithely unconcerned when the pass restriction ends.

She is right on top of those speed limit signs. 1 mph over the posted limit and the dash starts flashing the speed limit sign at you. It’s been a couple of weeks, but I think she also lost her mind a little if the speedo read above 80.

Not that I know from experience. Must have read that in the owner’s manual.

Android Auto -Karen friggin’ hated it. The Google GPS window is tiny, compared to the built in version that can be almost full-screened. On Bluetooth, Karen is happy to read your messages. Just tell her what line number. *Looks at big screen* What do you mean, “select line number.“ 100 miles later - Oh, the OTHER screen. The one with the speedometer I’m supposed to be checking occasionally. Got it. Plug that phone in and Karen’s mood changes. At first, it’s OK. She’ll play the Habanera on Spotify, but it sounds dull because you haven’t figured out the stereo controls yet. Sigh

At first, you can compose texts through Google instead of the canned responses of the factory interface. After a while, the green-eyed monster awakes. Suddenly your phone is simply not available to take your dictation. Karen has no explanation. Just “NOPE.” Also, she blames the phone for the problem that didn’t exist a minute ago.

I never did figure out the mobile wifi - I didn’t even find the screen with it until I was returning the car.

In Four Words: Buy a Mustang Instead. Or, Kinda Like Being Married.