#it's just like when I was a kid and cut and pasted magazines to make weird pictures

[bunnigumi]

─ FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT

YOU KNOW HOW hormonal teenagers are. Especially the boys. They'll want to fuck anything; even their own sisters.

cw. megumi x reader , incest , porn with plot , reader described with small chest , brief mentions of drinking/smoking , Toji is referred to as dad/daddy (nonsexual) , light exhibitionism , dead dove

an. hi guys!! thank you!! for!! 600+ followers!!!!! i lowkey accidently edged you guys at the end srry in advance i didn't have motivation to write out a full smut scene and i hope theres no typos in this bc ill cry if i see it too late... happy reading ^u^ ^_<

There's a lot of things Megumi can't do when Toji's around. Shower for too long and use up all the hot water, sneak his beers. Get handsy with his sister.

But he seems to do the last one all the time, whether his dad is home or not.

Toji is always too loud watching baseball or horse racing on the TV to hear the noises you make when your brother tries to shove his fingers up your virgin ass for the second time. You chickened out the first because you heard the front door open, your dad coming home for the first time in weeks.

Thought he was going to walk in on the two of you. Ask how your day was, what you've been up to. Something along the lines of what a normal dad would do. All he ever does is mope around. She's dead and you're all grown up.

But Megumi likes to humor you, Let's do it under the covers then.

Especially when you're so irrational, Wanna feel good, right? He won't hear a thing by the time I get my fingers in.

Sometimes he's too passed out drunk to see the bedroom door open with Megumi's hands groping your breasts. They're too small to be properly fondled, but he's always liked girls with small tits. 

You've shared a room since forever. There's only two, one for you and Megumi, and one for your parents. But daddy spends most of the nights on the couch, never makes it a step past the living room.

It probably wasn't the best idea. Megumi started touching you all inappropriately at night, your stuffed dolls from family friends facing away when he fingers you, fucks you, kisses you.

You know how hormonal teenagers are. Especially the boys. They'll want to fuck anything; even their own sisters.

Your brother liked to kiss you a lot when you were younger. Regardless of where you were, who you were with. Simple, fleeting kisses on the lips. Your mom and dad would do it all the time.

Grown ups would fawn over how cute you were as children. How well you two got along. How they wished their children were as well behaved as you two were.

It's not all weird for their age. Shiu said it's just what kids do, kids are parrots, not that he has any. But'chya better teach ‘em it's not normal, or you’re gonna have inbred grandbabies. He says it with a quirked lip, chuckling, and a cigarette in between his fingers.

Your dad, unfazed, gnawed on his own, the sliding door open, summer on your face. Puppy stickers trailing up on the glass that don't make it past the handle.

On a good day, Toji's got a Playboy magazine in one hand, a cold bottle in the other. C'mere, boy. He likes to call Megumi from your room to taunt him. Don't she look just like your sister? Flat out drunk. Well, with that rack, it's more like your ma. See, now this one's more like your sister. Isn't that funny?

He tears out the page, careful to not cut through the model's hips, and tosses it in Megumi's direction. His eyes never leaving the magazine. Not even when he takes a swig of the bottle.

Don't fucking talk about your daughter like that. The hell's wrong with you? Megumi says it partially under his breath. And he says it like he isn't hard in front of his dad, like it's not because of the thought of his sister. 

His face twitches with mock disgust. It's as if he isn't folding the page and slipping it into his pocket when he heads back to your shared room.

It all went through one ear and out the other—television static. Toji doesn't look up, doesn't notice Megumi leave. The daggers stabbed into his hollow head. The hard on his son’s got at the mention of his sister. He never notices anything at all.

And it's whatever. You're waiting for him. You want to show him the new panties you bought when you were out with your girlfriends, the money courtesy of your brother. Not in exchange for sex, of course. He loves you more than to treat you like a prostitue. Plus, you'd do it for free, so that makes you a good sister slut.

Megumi doesn't like his new part time all too much. ‘Part time’ means being away from you, leaving you alone. Government code to keep families apart. Buy whatever you like. You're a people pleaser.

Your dad babies you a lot. He still doesn't understand how teenagers work. Coddles you to death like you're still five when his breath smells like spearmint.

It's about the same for Megumi, that kiddy treatment. Still offers runs out to the nearby store to buy ice cream, loitering for the air conditioning on days when cold baths with you aren't enough to kill the heat. Sticking their faces in freezers, your mom twirling you in circles. Letting you go like a wind up doll, spinning and spinning ‘till the world was dizzy.

You inherited her smile, her upturned eyes when you laughed.

And you hate the way Toji let himself go. The person he became. The safety, the warmth. Detached too early from nurturing. Spiraling all the way down from the tree, the nest.

You, me, your sister. Like we used to.

He never got his ass off the couch. Not for those recreational things at least. Everyone knows that, but Toji still tries.

Not to say that Megumi isn't a fan of tradition. Cold baths with you, having you warm his dick while he washes your hair with strawberry, 3-in-1 kid shampoo. Sucking your little tits and biting down on your tender neck. Rubbing your needy clit in circles, your hips bucking, water sloshing. Suds popping and flying in the air. Soapy residue clinging to tile walls.

Your dad doesn't question why you still do it together when you're in your teenage years, or how you two should have outgrown baths already. It's a win-win situation.

He never has a reason to leave; no wife to nag him about remembering to buy fabric softener at the store with the groceries because he forgot the last time. It's not that important, only sissies need soft clothes to survive.

When he does leave, it's for days on end. And you never really notice when he does until you’re on your way out the door to school in the early morning, and there's no one on the couch, not a note on the counter.

Tugging at the hem of your uniform shirt, slipping on your shoes and leaning on the door handle you’d drill holes into the Toji-shaped spot and the door is quietly shut behind you, your brother still asleep.

He's gotten into the college near home and has been taking on more night shifts. Most of his classes start in the afternoon and you miss walking with him to school.

Megumi's the one paying attention to you more, and even extra attention on nights when dad isn't home and he's back from work.

You can be as loud as you need to be, fuck as much as you want. You've grown to be one spoiled girl, that's for sure.

Toji saw him feeling you up once in the kitchen when he went to grab leftover takeout from the fridge. You thought he wasn't home. Turned out he hadn't left the house since yesterday, passed out in his room. Still smelled like a bar, nicotine, and a skank.

You think it's the first time he actually slept there since, well, you know. 

The hell you kids doing. It wasn't a question. He said it with a yawn, with glaring indifference in the base of his tone. Megumi ignored the way his shoulders were slumped over. How he rested his weight on the fridge handle.

And you could act like it didn't happen, like your older brother wasn't pressing up against your backside, trying to stick his junk inside of you.

Nothing, daddy. It's all in your imagination. Just playing. You've just been watching too many pornos. By the way, are you hungover? Your breath reeks of cumsluts and prostitute whores.

Megumi finds that Toji tends to only register the sound of your voice rather than your words. He'd gotten pretty good at that thing with your mother. When you hit puberty, you started to sound like her.

And it's easy for Toji to turn a blind eye. To forget and be at ease. Megumi could really just have continued to go and fuck you right there over the kitchen counter. You're real good at quick and dirty. There’d be the high pitch of your moans and Toji could care less.

It's what happens when you have a dead mom, a college roommate of a dad, and a touchy brother for a family.

Shiu managed to lure Toji out of the house tonight with the promise of girls and booze. Like a dog hearing the words ‘park’ and ‘treat’. Pathetic, is what it is.

You’re wrapping your hand around your older brother’s cock. Pressing your cheek against his thigh. Pleading eyes staring up at him because you’re unsure of how to start. Red knees on scratchy hardwood floor. It's been a while since you had time for foreplay more than kissing and fingering.

“Suck it like a popsicle. Careful with your teeth,” He says in a low voice. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

You've always been a quick learner. Daddy doesn’t know that. Grey rings on unopened report cards turned coasters.

But your brother sure does. He likes to encourage your learning with a hand tangled into your hair. And he’s not all too strict of a teacher, relenting in his grasp when you dig your nails into the side of his legs. Pulling off with saliva dripping down your chin. Lips pouty and shredded like paper, your jaw aching. Thighs rubbing together, always desperate for something more.

Megumi lifts you up onto his lap so that you're straddling him, and taking the initiative, you throw your arms around his neck—pressing your bodies together, grinding down on him and zealously chasing after his lips.

You love like it's second nature.

Intimately to the ideal of union. Crossing lines just to hear the way they snap, it's more satisfying from the other side. In privileged rebellion; the temptation that comes with this taboo of want.

He can taste himself on you, with notes of sugar from home baked cookies and cheap frosting on your tongue.

Megumi has to force you still, his hands squeezing tight around your waist.

Petulant like a child, a whine leaves your mouth at the halt of friction. He manhandles your position so that your back is resting on his chest. Legs dangling off the edge of the bed, kicking and making a soft thumping noise against its side. 

Lifting up the hem of your shirt, his shirt that you’re wearing, reveals nothing but white panties soaked wet from the way your brother nips at your bottom lip when you kiss, from humping him, the way he loves you, too.

He shoves your panties to the side, smearing your slick all over your cunt with his fingers, onto your clit. He rubs light circles, eliciting breathy moans from you before abruptly stopping to pull your underwear down the rest of the way, letting it fall carelessly to the floor.

Resting his chin on your shoulder and marking the dip between your neck and shoulder with red indents of his teeth, the sting of his canines, he slips his middle finger into your cunt. The ring, to stretch you out. Then the index, to see how much you can take.

Facing the open door, no one's on the couch while your big brothers got a hand between your thighs. The other sliding under your shirt, agonizingly slow up your chest in a way that sends shivers up your spine, translating into hunger for your brain.

You don't wear bras at home, but you enjoy wearing frilly, lacy ones. Little white bows on the center of your chest. Dolly and cute to the point it was sexy, but not overly so. In blue and pink pastels bordering white.

Megumi was always poked fun at for hanging out with you during lunch and breaks in middle school. Always badgered by his rag-tag group of friends. 

C’mon, Fushiguro. Hang out with us. Just for today at least. That pink haired one was always so whiny. Cute, maybe, but whiny. Or what about after school? You always go straight home. He got on your nerves. You hated him. 

Only sister fuckers hang out with them at school. The brunette was fairly pretty. Skinny legs, good tits. Glossy lips when she said her snide remarks. You always had this fear that Megumi would leave you for her. Irrational, did he mention? You shot her a glare, and hated her too.

You’d ask Megumi to follow you to the girls bathroom after lunch. Undoing the buttons of your blazer. The first, second, third one of your dress shirt—flashing starstruck eyes with a new bra. Arms pushing your breasts together, offering him a sweet smile. Lustful persuasion.

Then you would leave him for class and he'd have to jerk off to get rid of his boner. In a stall over the toilet, quick so no one hears him. Grinding his teeth together, biting down on his lip, chewing the side of his mouth to muffle the noise until it all hurt.

You’ve always liked to rile him up. To leave him high and dry, no hand holding on the way home, then give him all of you the second you step into the door without so much as a glance to see if anyone's in the house.

You like to tease him, even whenever Toji is near. 

Simulating the tent in his pants with your feet under the table while daddy is smoking with Shiu.

Staring at your brother from across with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

Waiting for his cool composure to break until he’s got only two options: Bend you over the table and fuck you right then and there, or play his little sister’s game, her rules. Puppy dog eyed, exhibitionist freak.

Your hips continuously grind up to meet his knuckles. Clutching his wrist, whispering as he curiously stops his attack on your neck, “More. Want more,” and you hold your breath.

You feel him smile on your skin. Without a word, he flips you onto the mattress, and knows exactly what you want, exactly what you need by the way you hook your legs over his back, locking your ankles together. Pulling him in closer. Effectively caging him in. The world can't have him. You've claimed your stake on him a long time ago.

And the words that leave your mouth feel nothing but natural. Your voice is airy, breathy. This insatiable desire tugs harshly at your heart.

Your lips purse together for a moment, just a single moment before the words seamlessly roll off your tongue. 

“I love you," like you were born to do.

[folksyswift]

I'm just a girl… I'm alone, on my own. No one wanted to play with me as a little kid, nobody ever lets me in. Something different bloomed writing in my room. I see the great escape, I play my songs in the parking lot just to learn that my dreams aren't rare. Maybe I'm just a girl on a mission but I'm ready to fly in the angel's city, chasing fortune and fame. No one in my small town thought I'd meet these suits in L.A. and the camera flashes make it look like a dream. The kind of radiance you only have at 17, making my own name, chasing that fame. The crown is stained, but you're the real queen selling dreams, selling make up and magazines and your secrets end up splashed on the news front page. No cameras catch my pageant smile and my cheeks are growing tired from turning red and faking smiles. They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" and I did. Cause ladies always rise above, so I became the butt of the joke. Talk your talk and go viral 'cause, baby, I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me. Crowd goes wild at her fingertips but there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west. I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. I was in the alley surrounded on all sides. Brought a knife to a gunfight. I looked around in a blood-soaked gown and tried to tell the town. You said the gun was mine, so they filled my cell with snakes. They say I did something bad then tell me I'm despicable. People look at me like I'm a monster. Now they're screaming that they hate me. I can feel the flames on my skin, and you find something to wrap your noose around. They're burning all the witches even if you aren’t one. So light me, and if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too. So I leap from the gallows, and I levitate down your street. I didn't want to have to haunt you but I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined. They say, "move on", but all I think about is karma. I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth. My pennies made your crown. You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. The knife cuts both ways, look at how my tears ricochet. Them's the breaks, they don't come gently. It still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, and I can go anywhere I want just not home. He's got my past frozen behind glass but I've got me. I’m still on that trapeze. I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me. Lights, camera, bitch smile. I can still make the whole place shimmer. I pushed each boulder up the hill, climbed right back up the cliff 'cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned. Ask me why so many fade, but I'm still here. Always risin' from the ashes 'cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this. And at last she knew what the agony had been for. I built a legacy that you can't undo. Long story short, I survived. You're on your own, kid. You always have been.

[ilium-ilia]

All Yours

Paring: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Synopsis: Your friends always tease you for being a virgin, so you decide to go home with someone they point out in the pub. Kyle seems kind enough, but he isn't very keen on letting you go.

Tags: smut, oral sex, PIV sex, virginity loss, hymen breaking, alcohol, possessiveness, implied break in, a hint of non-con touching at the end, Kyle is a little barmy but we can look past that, i did not edit a single word in this i had an idea and the energy to write it and that's it.

Liquor coats your tongue the same way it always does—alluring and biting. It sinks its teeth into the wet muscle and burrows down your esophagus until its created a lovely hibernaculum in which to rest in while it festers in your bloodstream. 

Pain, and comfort. 

That’s what tonight seems to be comprised of. As are most of your nights, these days. Bored fingers tap along the bartop as your friends indulge one another with debauched stories of their sex lives all while you smile and nod as if you understand the feelings they describe or the frustrations of laying in bed with someone who fucks like a cactus in a wind storm. 

Their gazes aren’t lost on you. It’s only natural for their eyes to wander over to the only virgin at the table. They look at you adoringly, as if you’re some mythical creature they often don’t happen across—something to be gawked at. Mortification joins the alcohol in your stomach as you tell yourself to ignore their gentle cooing and playful taunts. 

It’s not that deep. 

But it feels deep. It’s an abyss that swallows you whole—this idea of sex. They tell you it’s infinitesimal yet every time you attempt to wade through the waters you find your fingers clawing through the air as you attempt to keep yourself from drowning. You’d like to toss away your virginity just so it no longer hangs over your head like some thunder cloud ready to dump rain on your body, but you can’t quite get yourself to brave the blood that would follow after you cut it free from your body. 

What about him? He looks like a good lay. 

They point towards a man on the other side of the pub. He’s made himself comfortable at a table meant for two as his fingers choke the bottom of his pint. Short cropped hair lies close to his skull in thick curls while earthy brown eyes focus on the football game roaring on the television on the wall above him. His skin looks velvety smooth even with the faint scar on his cheek, and his face looks kind beneath the glow of the monitor. 

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t attractive. Between his broad shoulders and chiseled hands, he’s the poster boy for the models they used to plaster pictures of in the magazines meant for teen girls you used to read as a kid. 

He looks lonely. 

You echo the sentiment when you approach his table with pursed lips, already awaiting your rejection. He looks up at you and his lips pull into a wide smile over pearly white teeth—you don’t notice how sharpy they are through the sheer beauty that beams before you. 

“I might be,” he says, indulging your poor attempt at a pickup. His eyes flicker to the seat across from him for a short moment before he nods at you. “Gonna fix that for me, love?” 

His name is Kyle. You feared that the moment you sat down with him and he opened his mouth, he would do something to make you regret wandering over here in the first place, but he doesn’t. Each syllable that rolls off of his tongue is silky smooth with a voice with just enough vocal fry to haunt your dreams. He buys you another drink when you’re finished with your first one, and you find yourself giggling with him more than you ever do with your friends (though, it remains to be seen if it’s because of him, or your intoxication). 

Wanna get out of here? 

His apartment is quaint. Various video game consoles lie in perfect organization beneath his TV stand, and a few of the controllers rest on the coffee table next to the remote. Each counter glistens beneath the stove light, save for a few crumbs from a sandwich he had eaten for lunch earlier that day. There is a faint aroma of bleach, sandalwood and—

—iron? 

Kyle does not give you much time to mull over the state of his apartment before he’s got you buried in the duvet on his bed. Like a rocking boat in the ocean, you follow his whims as he strips you bare before him, body on display in the pallid light of his bedroom. Anticipation rears its head as your stomach churns. You’ve seen the films. You know how this is supposed to go. 

Still, you are pleasantly surprised when you find Kyle’s head between your thighs. He curiously thumbs over your clit a few times just to watch your body jolt, and he grins as you throw your head back into his pillows. When his mouth replaces his thumb, you feel your desire pound against your chest, ready to burst free into the cold air around you. 

His tongue swipes over you, not even bothering to temper you into the pure pleasure he plunges you into. All his efforts are focused onto one spot, the very spot that pulses with needy want as your hips twitch and buck against him. He chuckles, then hums lowly as his hands grip your hips to roll you along the flat of his tongue. Desperate fingers push at the back of his head. None of your friends described sex like this—wet and lewd. None of them ever talked about dancing on the tongue of their lovers like you are now. 

“Kyle, that- that feels so good,” you croon. 

He groans when you say his name. It bleeds between your lips like a hushed confession—a secret between you and God. His tongue quickens along your clit and the hinge of your jaw begins to tighten. He does not say anything to you when you begin to babble further. Kyle continues to devour—to eat—to consume—

Something snaps within you. Parichord frays then slices, leaving behind nothing but searing marks across your skin as endorphins numb your brain and sizzle throughout your legs. When your thighs close around Kyle's head, he does not push them aside for breath, but rather he allows you to ride this wave until your muscles melt around him and his tongue ceases to move. 

“You taste so sweet. Like tangerine and blood,” he murmurs as he pulls away. His comparison makes your head spin—and blood—but you push it out of your mind as you witness him sit back on his haunches and remove his shirt in one slick, practiced motion. Soft abs roll and swell with his breathing as his fingers begin to prod along your pussy. “You look so pretty like this. Nothing but a mess for me, aren’t you? Yeah, there-” 

You witness in real time as something ensnares Kyle's brain into silence. Eyes widening, his fingers hardly press into your entrance before they meet resistance. Pulling away from you, he puts his hands on the underside of your knees before he pushes your legs apart. 

“Hold your legs out for me. Yeah, just like that, love,” he orders. Trembling fingers hook underneath your thighs as you hold yourself apart for him. You stare up at him from between your knees with curious eyes. “Is that… fuck…” 

Slender fingers prod at your pussy once more, and you feel the cold air rush to meet the wetness on your skin as he inspects your cunt. You watch the soft brown of his eyes morph from wet autumn leaves into a dark void as he prods against some thin membrane just at your entrance. 

“You’re a virgin?” he asks. 

Embarrassment cuts through you like a dull blade. “You can tell?” 

“Your hymen is still intact.” Kyle doesn’t look at you. Instead, he continues to spread you apart, eyes locked onto your pussy. “You sure you want me to take this, love? To take you?” 

Your hips shift. Gathering as much spare courage as you’re able to find, you nod. “Please, Kyle.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to fish his cock from his trousers. Something whispers at you to ask him about a condom, but your mind is thrown into silence the moment he slaps himself against your clit. He’s thick—uncut and desperately leaking, he rubs himself over your cunt before he pushes himself into you. 

The burn is faint at first, but it progresses from flickering embers into a roaring fire. Kyle watches with dilated eyes as his cock splits and tears your hymen. The thin tissue weeps with trace amounts of blood, and he finds his throat growing tight as your cunt begins to constrict around him. 

“Kyle, that-” 

“I know,” he interrupts. “But fuck look at that. Never seen anything like that. Like you. You’re taking it so well, love, I just… there.” He bottoms out with a sharp thrust that has your nails digging into the back of your thighs. Dropping your legs, you slap your hands over your mouth to hold back a wail. Kyle falls forward, draping your body with his as he begins to shallowly thrust into you. “I’m not gonna be able to get enough of this.” 

The foreign sensation ripples through you, stunning you into silence as Kyle’s cock pistons through your cunt. You feel the very ridge of his cockhead, the swell of his balls against your rump, even the trimmed hair on his pubic bone rubbing against your clit. The very world begins to fall away beneath you, and your arms wrap around his neck to steady yourself. You feel the curve of his lips as he grins against your throat. 

“All mine. All fucking mine,” he repeats as his teeth nip beneath your jaw. A tense thumb makes its way to your clit once more just as you feel his hips begin to stutter and jolt. “Say it. All fucking mine, aren’t you love?” 

“Yes!” you wail. “All yours, Kyle. Please, please let me come!” 

He greedily times his orgasm with yours, and it isn’t long before you’re constricting around him and he’s spilling his cum into you with several throbbing pulses of his cock. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your muscles go slack as he continues to shallowly thrust into you, grunting each time he bottoms out, refusing to waste a single drop. 

“All mine.”

Kyle’s mantra only repeats in your mind for a little while after that night. He had tenderly cleaned you up in the shower before lovingly taking you to work the next morning—then, you vanished. Into thin air. Dissipated into nothing more than a tricky zephyr between his fingers. 

The two of you were nothing more than a fling. 

That’s what you thought. 

When your confidence grows enough to take another stranger home from the bar with you, you shouldn’t be surprised to find Kyle already waiting in your apartment when the two of you arrive, but you are. He sits comfortably on your sofa with narrowed eyes as the door swings open, and your jaw goes slack at the sight of him. 

Baby, who’s this? 

Your one-night-stand rushes out of the door behind you, muttering something about being the other man, leaving you to stand in front of Kyle, trembling as if you’re out in the cold. 

“Kyle? What the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “Did you-? How did you even know I lived here? Seriously, what the fuck?” 

“Did you not mean it?” Kyle’s eyes are severe as he stands. He stalks forward with raised brows until your back is pressed against the door and his arms are on either side of your head. “When you said you were all mine, did you not mean it?” 

Shaking your head, your bottom lip begins to tremble. “I don’t understand.” 

His hands snake down until he’s palming at you through your pants. Gasping at the pressure, your eyes squeeze shut as his teeth nip at the side of your cheek, and you wince. 

“You let me take this. Your virginity. It’s mine now. You’re mine now.” His lips brush away the pain on your cheek with a chaste kiss. “Say it to me, love.” 

Fear pierces through your heart at the deep growl of authority in his tone. He has you trapped, caged in his arms like you’re nothing more than an animal. Knowing you have no other choice, your throat bobs as you swallow. 

“I… I’m all yours, Kyle.” 

[lazysoulwriter]

Timeless Temptation - Lewis Hamilton.

MDNI! requested! hope u like itttt

The sun hung low over Monaco, painting the city in warm, golden light. You were curled up on the balcony of Lewis’s penthouse, scrolling through your phone while sipping a glass of white wine. The distant hum of the city mixed with the gentle sounds of the sea, and behind you, Lewis was lounging in his chair, flipping through a magazine he wasn’t really reading.

A sudden laugh escaped your lips as you scrolled past a particularly ridiculous meme. You tried to stifle it, but it was too late—Lewis looked up immediately, intrigued.

“What’s so funny, baby?” he asked, setting the magazine aside and leaning forward.

You shook your head, trying to suppress a grin. “You wouldn’t get it,” you said, your tone light and teasing.

His brow furrowed, a playful frown tugging at his lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You looked at him, your grin widening. “It’s… just a generational thing. You know, young people humor.”

Lewis tilted his head, fixing you with a pointed look. “Young people humor?” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” you replied, sitting up straighter and waving your phone slightly. “Some things are just for us Gen Z kids. I mean, you’re practically a millennial relic.”

His jaw dropped slightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh again. “A relic?” he echoed, his voice tinged with mock outrage. “You’re calling me a relic now?”

“I’m just saying,” you teased, leaning back with a smirk. “Some things are… you know, above your pay grade. Or your age bracket.”

Lewis leaned forward, placing his glass on the table. The glint in his eyes shifted, and you immediately recognized the look. It was the look he got when he was ready to prove a point. “Oh, we’re going there, are we?” he murmured, his voice low.

“Where?” you asked innocently, though the gleam in your eye betrayed you. “I’m just pointing out facts. You’re… experienced.”

“Experienced?” he repeated, standing up slowly and walking toward you. “You make me sound like someone’s dad.”

“Well—” you started, but the words caught in your throat as he stopped in front of you, towering over your seated form. His hands rested on the arms of your chair, caging you in, and his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip.

“Let me ask you something,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You think any of these so-called ‘young guys’ can fuck you the way I do?”

Your breath hitched, but you weren’t about to give in so easily. “I mean, they’d have energy—”

He cut you off, his smirk growing. “Energy’s nothing without skill. And you know damn well I’ve got plenty of that.”

Your cheeks burned, and you tried to look away, but he wasn’t having it. His hand moved to your chin, gently tilting your face back toward his. “You can tease me all you want about being older, but we both know none of those boys could make you feel the way I do.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “You’re so cocky,” you muttered, though your voice lacked the bite you’d hoped for.

“And I’ve earned it,” he shot back, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “Unless you’re saying you’d rather test that theory?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words never came. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, leaving no room for doubt about who had the upper hand. By the time he pulled back, you were breathless, your earlier bravado shattered.

“Still think I wouldn’t understand?” he asked, his smirk firmly in place as he straightened up.

You shook your head quickly, a small laugh escaping you. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“Good,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Because I’m far from done proving you wrong.”

As he walked back to his seat, you stared after him, trying to regain your composure. You could still feel the heat from his touch, the way his words lingered in the air.

“You really hate it when I bring up the age gap, huh?” you asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

Lewis glanced at you over his glass, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Not really. I just like reminding you that it doesn’t matter.”

And with that, the playful tension melted into the easy rhythm of your relationship. You leaned back in your chair, a smile tugging at your lips. Age might have been a number, but with Lewis, it was the last thing that mattered.

[021894s]

— 28 betrayal, hurt…reconciliation [3.9k w]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: hurt, betrayal, language

AUTHORS NOTE: I tried surprising you guys by not telling you I was posting td hehe, enjoy <3

how could this have happened? he analyzes the photos closely, his heart sinking as he sees the images of you and Sunghoon, his best friend? his little sister? with their lips locked in a kiss?what the actual fuck. The betrayal cuts deep, and fury courses through his veins, each beat of his heart pounding louder in his ears.

The phone slips from his grasp, clattering onto the table as he scramble for his car keys. There's no time to think, no time to process what he’s just seen. The only thing that matters is getting to your house. he doesn’t care about the speed limit, the world outside blurring into a haze as he presses the pedal to the floor.

his mind races faster than the car, a torrent of emotions threatening to drown him. Anger, hurt, and a desperate need for answers fuel his reckless drive. As he approached your house, he barely registers the screech of tires against asphalt. All he knows is that you need to be confronted, to understand why you two did this to him.

Saerom was lounging on the couch, flipping through the endless arrays of movies and dramas that failed to catch her eye, when a loud, insistent knock echoed through the house. She frowned, setting the magazine aside and heading toward the door. when she opened it, she was met with Heeseung’s intense gaze and furrowed brows.

"Heeseung, hey—" she began, a bit taken aback by his agitated demeanor.

“Y/N here?” he cut her off abruptly, not waiting for an answer as he brushed past her and stormed into the house.

“Heeseung, wait—” Saerom tried to protest, but he was already making his way to your room, his footsteps heavy with urgency.

Heeseung didn’t bother knocking. He threw the door open, and there, in a tangle of blankets, were you and Sunghoon, your head nestled against his chest as he mindlessly scrolled on his phone.

“Un fucking believable,” Heeseung spat, his voice laced with betrayal.

you and Sunghoon scrambled to sit up, shock written across your faces. Sunghoon’s eyes widened, and your mouth opened and closed, searching for words.

“Heeseung, I—” you started, but the intensity of his glare silenced you.

“How long has this been going on?” Heeseung demanded, his voice trembling with anger and hurt.

you and Sunghoon exchanged a nervous glance, each silently pleading for the other to say something. Heeseung’s patience snapped.

“fucking answer me!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

Sunghoon swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper as he stammered, “T-technically since Japan.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened with fury, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you fucking kidding me? I trust you to accompany my sister and in turn you start sleeping with her?? what the fuck sunghoon?!”

your eyes filled with tears as you finally found your voice. “We were gonna tell you, I promise.”

Heeseung scoffed, his anger unrelenting. “Before or after you got caught?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling hands. “Heeseung, you have to understand, it wasn’t like we planned this to hurt you. We were just scared of how you’d react.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “Scared of how I’d react? You’re my sister and sunghoon is supposed to be my best friend! How did you think I’d react?”

Sunghoon finally mustered the courage to step forward. “Heeseung, we didn’t mean for it to happen this way. We just… we care about each other.”

The sight of Sunghoon’s face seemed to ignite something in Heeseung. Without warning, he swung his fist, connecting with Sunghoon’s jaw.

Sunghoon staggered back, clutching his face, his eyes wide with shock and pain. “Heeseung, I—”

Heeseung didn’t let him finish. “You fucking asshole” he yelled, his voice breaking. “You were supposed to be there for her not fall for her”

you stepped in front of him. “Heeseung, please! Let’s talk this out. just please don’t hurt him!” you plead, your voice breaking.

the tension in the room reached its peak, the sound of a door creaking open echoed down the hall. Jake, who had been in the restroom, heard the commotion and rushed towards your room. He burst in just as Heeseung was about to throw another punch at Sunghoon.

“Hey hey hey, stop it!” Jake shouted, grabbing Heeseung’s arm and pulling him back.

Heeseung struggled against Jake’s hold, his fury not yet abated. “Jake, let me fucking go. He deserves this!”

Jake tightened his grip, stepping between Heeseung and Sunghoon. “Enough, Heeseung! This isn’t going to solve anything.”

Heeseung glared at Jake, his eyes filled with betrayal. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this whole time and didn’t think to tell me?”

Jake looked pained, but he held his ground. “It wasn’t my secret to tell, Heeseung. I wanted to, but it wasn’t my place.”

Heeseung’s anger flared again, though this time it was mixed with hurt. “So you just let them lie to me? Let them sneak around behind my back?”

Jake shook his head. “I didn’t let them do anything. I told them they needed to tell you, but it was their decision to make.”

still standing between the boys, you looked at Heeseung with tear-filled eyes. “Heeseung, please. Jake didn’t do anything wrong. This is on us.”

Heeseung looked between you, Sunghoon, and Jake, his emotions a whirlwind. Finally, he took a step back, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

Jake released Heeseung’s arm, his expression filled with sympathy. “You can trust that we all care about you. We just didn’t handle things the right way.”

Heeseung rubbed his temples, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

tears are streaming down your face, looking at Heeseung with desperation. “Heeseung… I love him.”

Heeseung paused, his eyes filling with more pain. He turned to look at you, his expression a mixture of hurt and concern. "He’s going to hurt you," he said, his voice trembling.

you shook her head, her heart aching. "No, Heeseung, he won't."

Heeseung’s eyes brimmed with tears. "How can you be so sure? You’ve been sneaking around, lying to me. How can you trust him after all this?"

you took a step closer, pleading with him. "Because I know him. And I know this is hard for you to believe right now, but he makes me happy."

Heeseung looked at you, the pain in his eyes evident. "I just want to protect you. I don’t want to see you get hurt."

your voice softened, filled with love and determination. "I know, Heeseung. And I appreciate that. But I need you to trust me on this. Please."

Heeseung swallowed hard, the tears finally spilling over. "I don’t know if I can. Not right now."

you nodded, your own tears flowing freely. "Take your time. But please, believe me when I say we didn’t mean to hurt you. We love you."

Heeseung looked away, wiping his eyes. "I love you too, y/n. That's why this hurts so much." he looks over to sunghoon, “don’t bother coming home, you’re out.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you standing there, your heart breaking for your brother, and it was no one’s fault but your own.

your world had become a shadow of its former self. The weight of Heeseung's hurt and disappointment bore down on your shoulders like a crushing burden. Days passed in a haze of misery. you found yourself withdrawing from everything you once enjoyed, your appetite dwindling, and even the thought of attending classes seemed unbearable.

your best friends noticed the change immediately. Saerom, who had always been your confidante, approached you gently one afternoon.

"y/n please talk to me," Saerom pleaded, sitting beside you on the bed where you had been listlessly staring at nothing in particular.

you blinked back tears, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't, Saerom. I've messed everything up. I hurt Heeseung so much."

Saerom wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. "You didn’t mean to hurt him, baby. Sometimes things just happen."

you shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "But I did hurt him. I betrayed his trust. And now he won’t even talk to me."

she rubbed your back soothingly, feeling utterly helpless. "Give him time, y/n . He loves you. He’ll come around."

you pulled away,eyes filled with despair. "I don’t know if he ever will. And even if he does, how can things ever be the same?"

Saerom’s heart broke for you. "I wish I had the answers. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what."

you nodded weakly, appreciating Saerom’s support even as the ache in your heart persisted. youfelt lost, adrift in a sea of guilt and sorrow, unable to find solace in anything, not even in the presence of your closest friends.

A week had passed since the tumultuous confrontation in your room. Heeseung found himself in the university library, an unusual place for him on a quiet afternoon. He was buried in his textbooks, trying to focus on the equations and theories in front of him, anything to distract himself from the ache in his heart.

He flipped through pages, his mind wandering back to the events of the past week. The hurt and betrayal were still fresh, but being surrounded by the hushed atmosphere of the library offered a semblance of peace. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions that had consumed him since discovering your secret.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, his face still bruised from Heeseung’s punch. “Can I sit?”

Heeseung glanced up at him, his expression conflicted. After a moment, he nodded.

Sunghoon sat down, the silence between them heavy. Finally, he spoke. “Heeseung, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Heeseung kept his gaze fixed on the ground. “You were my best friend, Sunghoon. I trusted you more than anyone.”

Sunghoon swallowed hard. “I know. And I betrayed that trust. But I swear, it wasn’t intentional. I just... I fell in love with her.”

Heeseung looked up, his eyes filled with pain. “And you couldn’t tell me? You had to sneak around behind my back?”

Sunghoon nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “We were scared. We didn’t want to lose you.”

Heeseung’s anger flared again, though not as intensely as before. “You lost me the moment you decided to lie to me.”

Sunghoon’s shoulders slumped. “I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I need you to know that I love y/n. I would never hurt her.”

Heeseung shook his head, tears welling up again. “How can I believe that? After all this?”

Sunghoon’s voice was steady, filled with sincerity. “Because I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love her, Heeseung. And I love you too. You’re like a brother to me. Losing you... it’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

Heeseung wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath. “This is going to take time. I don’t know if I can trust either of you right now.”

Sunghoon nodded, understanding. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just... please don’t shut us out. We need you- she needs you. she isn’t taking it well.”

Heeseung looked at Sunghoon, seeing the genuine remorse and love in his eyes. “I need time to process this. But... i’ll talk to her”.

Sunghoon managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Heeseung. That means a lot.”

Heeseung nodded, the pain still raw but a small glimmer of hope beginning to form. “We’ll see. Just... don’t hurt her. Or I won’t forgive you. Ever.”

Sunghoon placed a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder, his voice firm. “I won’t. I promise.”

They sat in silence for a while, the weight of their conversation lingering, but there was a sense of understanding beginning to bridge the gap between them.

Sunghoon had been by your side through it all, his own heart heavy with guilt and longing to make things right. later that afternoon, you both lay together in the cacoon of your duvet, hiding you from the outside world. Sunghoon gently pulled you into his arms.

"I talked to Heeseung," Sunghoon murmured softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on the soft skin of your back.

you looked up at him, eyes searching his face. "you did?? what did he say? are you ok? did he hit you again?"

Sunghoon sighed, his expression pained. "i’m ok but…he's hurting, baby. deeply. But he's starting to listen. I think... I think there's hope."

Tears welled up in your eyes again. "I miss him, hoon. I miss my brother."

Sunghoon held you tighter, his own eyes moistening. "He misses you too, y/n. He just needs time to heal."

you nodded, burying your face in Sunghoon's chest, seeking comfort in his warmth. "I wish I could take back everything. I wish I hadn’t hurt him."

Sunghoon kissed the top of your head gently. "We’ll get through this, baby. I promise. We just have to be patient."

you stayed like that for a while, finding solace in each other’s embrace, both hoping and praying that time would heal the wounds you had inadvertently caused.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of vulnerability.

Sunghoon cupped you face gently, his gaze locked with yours. "I love you too, y/n," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

In that moment, despite the pain and uncertainty, your love remained a steadfast anchor, offering hope for reconciliation and a future where healing could finally begin.

The next day, you were sitting in your room, staring blankly at the wall, when there was a gentle knock on the door. you looked up, heart skipping a beat when you saw Heeseung standing in the doorway, a tentative look on his face.

"Can we talk?" Heeseung asked softly, stepping inside.

you nodded, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "Of course."

Heeseung took a deep breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I've been thinking a lot, you know about everything."

your eyes filled with tears. "I’m so sorry, Hee. I never wanted to hurt you."

Heeseung nodded, his own eyes glistening. "I know. And I’m sorry for how I reacted. I was just... I felt- i feel so betrayed."

you reached out, taking his hand. "I never meant for it to happen like this. i just didn’t want you to be disappointed, you mean too much to me. but so does he.

Heeseung squeezed your hand gently. "Sunghoon talked to me yesterday. He explained everything. I realize now that you both love each other, and as much as it hurt to find out the way I did, I can’t stand the thought of losing either of you."

your tears spilled over, a mixture of relief and sorrow. "I miss you."

Heeseung’s voice cracked with emotion. "I miss you too, y/n. And I don’t want to lose you. It’s going to take time for me to fully trust again, but I’m willing to try."

you nodded, heart swelling with hope. "i’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I promise."

he pulls you into a tight embrace, his tears mingling with yours. "We’ll get through this together. I love you, sis"

"I love you too, hee," she whispered, holding him close. "Thank you for giving me a chance to make things right."

As you pulled away from the heartfelt embrace, Heeseung wiped his eyes and managed a small, teasing smile. "You look like shit, by the way."

you laughed through your tears, lightly punching his arm. "wow thanks. You’re not looking so hot yourself."

Heeseung chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "I guess we've both been a mess, huh?"

you nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe now we can start to clean up the mess together."

Heeseung grinned, ruffling your hair. "Sounds like a plan. Just promise me you’ll start eating and going to classes again. We both need to get our lives back on track."

you rolled her eyes playfully. "alright, big brother. I promise. But only if you promise to stop hiding in the library, it’s kinda scary to be honest."

Heeseung laughed, shaking his head. "Deal. Let’s both try to get back to some kind of normal."

you smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest she hadn't felt in days. "I’m really glad we talked, hee."

Heeseung nodded, his expression softening. "Me too, y/n. Me too."

Heeseung leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, I should probably have a little chat with Sunghoon too."

you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And what are you going to say to him?"

Heeseung smirked, crossing his arms. "Just a friendly reminder that if he ever hurts you, I’ll turn his life into a never-ending horror movie. You know, typical big brother stuff."

you laughed, shaking her head. "Poor Sunghoon. He's already scared of you as it is."

Heeseung chuckled. "Good. Keeps him on his toes."

Just then, Sunghoon timidly peeked around the corner, having overheard the last part of their conversation. "Uh, did I hear my name?"

Heeseung turned to him, his expression mock-serious. "Yeah, just giving y/n a heads-up about your imminent doom if you screw this up."

Sunghoon gulped, trying to hide his nervousness. "Duly noted. I promise, Heeseung, I'll take good care of her."

Heeseung's serious facade broke, and he grinned. "Relax, Sunghoon. Just don’t forget, I’ll always be watching."

Sunghoon laughed nervously, and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Alright, you two, enough with the threats. Let’s just focus on moving forward."

Heeseung nodded, still smiling. "Agreed. But remember, Sunghoon, horror movie."

Sunghoon nodded fervently. "Got it. No horror movies."

Just as the tension in the room began to ease, there was a loud commotion from the front door. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki barged into the house, their voices filled with excitement.

"Guess who brought chicken!!!" Jungwon shouted, holding up a bag of takeout.

The trio stopped in their tracks when they saw Heeseung standing in the living room with you and sunghoon, an awkward silence immediately filling the space .

Sunoo looked around, his eyes wide with surprise. "Should we leave?" he whispered to the others, his voice barely audible.

Heeseung, still processing the sudden intrusion, managed to chuckle. "No, it's fine. Come on in."

Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki exchanged nervous glances but slowly entered the room, setting the bags of food on the table. Niki looked at Heeseung, trying to gauge the situation. "Are you sure? We didn’t mean to interrupt anything."

you smiled, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "It's okay. We were just finishing up."

Sunoo glanced at Sunghoon, noticing his bruised face . "he didn’t punch you again did he?" he says in a whisper.

Sunghoon smiled sheepishly. "no, he didn’t”

sunoo pumps his fist in the air discreetly “progress!!” he whispers.

Jungwon, trying to lighten the mood, clapped his hands together. "Well, since we're all here, why don’t we eat? Maybe some food will help clear the air."

Heeseung nodded, a small smile forming. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s eat."

you all gathered around the table, the atmosphere slowly shifted from tense to more relaxed. The sound of laughter and chatter began to fill the room, a reminder of the bond you all shared and the hope that, in time, everything could be mended.

Sunoo leaned over to you, whispering with a playful grin, "You better make sure Heeseung gets the biggest piece of chicken. Peace offering and all."

you laughed, nodding. "Consider it done."

as you ate, the group gradually began to relax, the earlier tension dissipating. Heeseung, Sunghoon, and you exchanged glances, knowing that this was just the beginning of yourjourney to rebuild trust and heal their relationships. But surrounded by friends and shared laughter

a little over a month later, time had done its work, gradually healing the rift between Heeseung, Sunghoon, and you. Heeseung had come to terms with your relationship, and while it had been a rocky road, the bond you shared had grown stronger.

One sunny afternoon, Heeseung pulled up in front of your house to pick up you and Sunghoon for a lunch outing you had planned. He honked the horn lightly, signaling his arrival.

you both emerged from the house, holding hands and smiling. climbing into the backseat of Heeseung’s car, leaving the front seat empty.

Heeseung glanced in the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. "Really? The backseat?"

Sunghoon grinned, wrapping his arm around you . "What can I say? We like being close."

you leaned your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Thanks for driving us, Heeseung. You make a great chauffeur."

Heeseung rolled his eyes, starting the engine. "Yah, just don’t do anything you’re not supposed to be doing in my car."

Sunghoon laughed, squeezing your hand. "We promise to be good. Well, mostly."

you often found yourrself reflecting on how much had changed. you had feared losing your brother’s trust and your relationship with Sunghoon in the process, but instead, you had all come out of it closer and more resilient.

One evening, as the sun set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you sat on the balcony of your house. Heeseung and Sunghoon joined you, sitting on either side, each lost in their thoughts.

“Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” you asked softly, glancing at both of them.

Heeseung nodded, a gentle smile on his face. “Yeah, I do. It wasn’t easy, but I’m glad we made it through.”

Sunghoon took yourhand, squeezing it lightly. “We’ve grown a lot, all of us. And I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.”

you leaned her head on Heeseung’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of their presence. “I’m just glad I have both of you. It was tough, but it’s worth it. Having you both by my side means everything to me.”

Heeseung wrapped an arm around you, his smile widening. “We’re family. And nothing is going to change that.”

Sunghoon nodded, looking at Heeseung. “Thank you for accepting us, Heeseung. It means a lot.”

Heeseung chuckled, ruffling Sunghoon’s hair. “Just remember, if you ever hurt her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

you laughed, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you both so much.”

The three of you sat there, enjoying the serene evening, knowing that despite the challenges you had faced, you had come out stronger and more united. The love and trust you had rebuilt were the foundation of your unbreakable bond.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It had been a rocky and tough situation, but you had both your boys, and that was all that really mattered.

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog og @ihrtgyuuu be @hoonharem @g0niki @hearts4itoshi i i @yongbokified @shuichi-sama @xiaoderrrr r @skylalyla @yzzyhee @jwnghyuns @seokseokjinkim @syzavxy @xrvrqs @soulvrrs @velvetkisscs @eneiyri @meowmeowjang @simpjay @moonlighthoon @gaylilseokie @seunghancore @heelovesmeknot @nyfwyeonjun @kookify @jayhoonvroom @charlizefaye @mooniikay @nikiswifiee @heemilktea @yorukoshii i @sumzysworld @softieluvsyou @idkwhyimheresworld

[charmac]

Danny did a little interview for AARP Magazine in December. I haven't seen it copied anywhere past the paywall and I enjoyed reading it, so wanted to repost here

(Article is pasted as text below the cut)

Noisemaker I was born in Asbury Park, New Jersey. I was the baby, my sister Theresa was 10 years older, my sister Angie was 16 years older, my mom had two sisters, and none of them shut up, ever. It’s an Italian family, so the decibel level is out there. A little smart aleck I went to Our Lady of Mount Carmel School, because if your mother and father didn’t know what to do with you, they gave you to the nuns. … and still a smart aleck I remember when Peter, my nephew, was born. I was 7 years old, and I went over and looked into the bassinet, and the first thing he did was pee on me. It was great! I don’t think there’s a conversation I’ve had with the guy over all these years where I don’t bring up the fact that he peed on me. Also an old softie Do anything you can to keep on an even keel with your family and friends, no matter what happens in your life. That’s all we have. Don’t hide things. You’ve got to get up every day thinking about how you’re going to make it easier for the people that you’re working with or that you love or that you eat breakfast with. Because it’s infectious; everybody starts feeling good. Falling into the business Growing up, I’d spend the weekends at the movies, but I actually wasn’t even thinking about doing it. I got introduced to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in a roundabout way, took a couple classes, and I got the bug. And I thought, I’m not like Cary Grant, but I got a feel for this thing. So I studied, and then I went and started looking for jobs in New York, like every other actor does. I didn’t care what the description was—“male, 6 foot 4, 250 pounds”—I’d go out for the audition. Once I got in the room, I’m going to do what I’m going to do. Becoming Louie I wanted that part, Louie DePalma [in Taxi]. I walked into the room to audition in front of the four guys who created it, and I said, “One thing I want to know before we start. Who wrote this shit?” And I threw the script on the table. And I had a nanosecond of, did I screw everything up? Then they fell on the floor. Louie walked into their lives. Sudden fame I went to the market the day after the first episode aired, and people are stopping me on the street: “Hey, Louie!” They weren’t calling me Danny. After a couple of days of this, I called my publicist, and said, “This is really crazy. People are chasing me down the street.” He says, “Danny, you don’t have to worry until that stops happening.” Now it’s all, “Frank, Frank, Frank!” because of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is good. The fans are all you have. Still evolving I think I’m bolder than I’ve ever been—I don’t monitor myself as much. I do say things that are, like, pretty far out, that are really weird, and sometimes I’m inappropriate. But I am always respectful, and that’s because of my two sisters, I swear to God. You have to respect other people’s space.

My happy place Since my two grandbabies have been born, I am just in- corrigible. You gotta tamp me down in the joy department, you know what I’m saying? I’m just so lucky. Blessings have been showered down on me. I wish that for everybody.And the thing is to be aware of it. Don’t let it go. Rhea [Perlman, DeVito’s wife, from whom he is separated but with whom he still spends a lot of time] and I were always able to see those little, incremental changes when our kids were growing up. And I tell my kids that, with their babies: Don’t miss a thing, don’t look away. A sudden case of holidays I’m in the movie A Sudden Case of Christmas with my daughter Lucy, who plays my daughter. It’s just a real warm, wonderful movie, and I loved doing it. As far as the actual holidays go, we have family dinners. Basically we’re Italian, so you know, anybody who’s around, we grab. We get to celebrate all the holidays, because Rhea’s parents were Jewish, so we did all the Jewish holidays, and we do all the Catholic holidays or Italian holidays. My mantra It’s always a good thing to be positive about life, and always get out of bed thinking today’s the day you’re really going to kick its ass. That’s the way to do it

[rowdyluv]

ʀᴇᴘᴜᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅs ᴍᴇ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: in which jack and y/n attend the charity gala, things go….well pretty much as expected for the two of them.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: minuscule bullying towards reader, fem reader, y/n usage, jack hate(?), no editing,

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀs ɴᴏᴛᴇ: sorry holiday season + me don’t mix well my writers block on this hit hard. it sat at 180 words since i last posted 🙂‍↕️

© ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ʀᴏᴡᴅʏʟᴜᴠ ; ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇ-ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ - ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ Aⵊ ᴄᴏᴅᴇs, ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛᴇ.

Jack's heart raced as he straightened his tie in the mirror. It was a crisp black number that matched his tuxedo perfectly. Next to him, Y/n smoothed down her hair, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she caught him looking out of the corner of her eye. She looked radiant in the dress she picked out. It was simple, yet something about it made her eyes sparkle like the stars he had promised to show her once when they were kids.

The charity gala was in full swing when they arrived. The New Jersey Devils' logo adorned every surface, and the room was filled with the hum of chatter and clinking glasses. The scent of expensive cologne and perfume filled the air as they made their way through the crowd. Y/n felt like a fish out of water, her hands tightly clutching Jack's arm for support. She had never been to an event like this before. It was like stepping into a world she had only seen in the pages of glossy magazines.

“Jack, Y/n! Over here!” Amanda called. She was standing off to the side of the Devil’s red carpet. She had her usual simple set up, herself, a camera, and the microphone. “Are you guys ready to just answer some simple questions about how you met, how long you’ve been friends, when you decided friends weren't ‘just friends’ anymore?”

Jack looked over at Y/n and gave her a comforting smile. She returned it, a little wobbly around the edges. But she nodded firmly, at least Amanda is employed by the Devils and she won’t twist anything around.

“Anything to clear up the mess that was put out by people who don’t know anything.” Jack muttered.

“Great! First question I have for you all is this one, you two have been friends for a whi..” Jack cut Amanda off which isn’t anything new for their conversations.

“Not just a while, practically our entire lives.” He was a little eager to get the right information out, but he could also feel the anxiety radiating off Y/n’s body.

“Wow really? I figured it would’ve been since grade school.” Amanda laughed lightly. “Anyways, talking about last season Jack, you told me that you were superstitious when you were younger but you didn’t think you could be anymore. That was because your superstitious ritual partner was back home.”

Y/n looked up at Jack, her cheeks tinged with heat. Jack nodded, “yes, last season I didn’t have any superstitions. I didn’t have anything I followed before the pregame.”

“But you do now, right? We have these pictures sent in by fans in the stands, y/n’s socials, as well as our own photographer that shows you making sure to shake her hand or fist bump with her before every home game.” Amanda asks Jack with a smile.

Jack couldn’t help but grin down at Y/n. “Yeah, I do. And she’s the best luck I’ve ever had.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She felt like home, and he was never letting go of that.

The interview went on smoothly, with Amanda asking them about their favorite moments together, how they balanced their relationship with his hectic hockey schedule, and what they liked to do in their downtime. They played it cool, giving the camera the charming couple act they had so effortlessly slipped into. But as they stepped away from the spotlight, Y/n felt the weight of the evening’s façade pressing down on her. She was aware of the glances and whispers from the donors and their significant others.

One of the donor’s girlfriends, a sleek blonde with a predatory smile, sailed past them, her eyes lingering on Y/n. "Jack's got a new one already?" she quipped to a friend, loud enough for them to hear. "They never last, do they?"

“I guess reputation really does proceed me.” Jack grumbled as they approached a table of his teammates.

Y/n felt the tension in his arm and gave him a squeeze. “Don’t let them get to you.” She whispered. “You’re not that guy anymore.”

“I know toots, it’s still a bit hard to hear sometimes.” Jack took a deep breath and nodded trying to clear his mind before plastering his signature smile and turning to face his teammates. He spotted Nico first and two free chairs.

“Aye Cap, are you saving these for me?” Jack asked hopefully. His other option was down by Curtis, who often likes to have fun at the expense of his relationship history at gatherings like this.

Nico looked over at Jack with a knowing smile and nodded. “Always.”

Jack pulled out the chair for Y/n before taking his own seat. His hand was gentle as he helped her down, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. The gesture was so natural, it was as if they had done this a hundred times before. The other players and their dates turned to look, some raising their eyebrows at the new addition to Jack’s life. Y/n felt a sudden rush of nerves, but Jack’s strong hand on her back reassured her.

Nico leaned over with a warm smile, extending his hand. "You must be the famous Y/n," he said, his voice a smooth rumble. "Jack's been playing out of this world since you came into the picture. It's a pleasure to finally meet the woman who's tamed our resident bad boy." His eyes twinkled with mirth, but there was a hint of sincerity in his words.

The other teammates at the table nodded in agreement, their curiosity piqued by the uncharacteristic stability Jack had shown in recent months. They had all seen the social media trends, the endless parade of one-night-stands and party girls that had followed him around. Yet here was Y/n, looking like a breath of fresh air amidst the glitz and glamour of the gala.

Y/n took Nico’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Thank you, Nico. It’s nice to finally meet you too.” Her voice was steady, but inside she was a mess of nerves. She had read stories about the captain’s protectiveness over Jack and wondered if she had just earned a spot in his good graces.

The conversation at the table flowed easily, mostly centered around the team’s latest wins and strategies for the upcoming season. The wives and girlfriends shared their own tales of navigating the tumultuous world of professional sports, offering Y/n a glimpse into the life she was pretending to be a part of. She tried to listen and contribute where she could, but only having a few games under her belt left little to no room.

Jack felt Y/n’s nerves through the fabric of her dress and gave her a gentle squeeze on the thigh under the table. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, “You’re doing great, babe.” His breath was warm and comforting, and she felt a little of the tension ease from her shoulders. “The guys and I have to go mingle with the donors to convince them to give money ... and if they already gave, get them to give more money. Are you okay to stay here and make friends?”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course. I’ll be fine. Go do your thing.”

As Jack and the others stood up and made their way to the donors, Y/n found herself surrounded by the wives and girlfriends but it felt like being surrounded by vultures. They quickly crowded in around her like she was a shiny new toy. They were all dressed to the nines, their laughter tinkling like champagne flutes. Suddenly the dress she spent so much time looking for and had such an amazing day with Ellen shopping for, wasn’t as marvelous anymore. She felt like the odd one out.

She didn’t have the jewelry, the make up, or the hair upkeep that they had. She had simple. She was simple, by definition.

The conversations swirled around her, a mix of strategic networking and gossip that made her feel like she was drowning. She couldn’t keep up. Her head spinning in circles trying to figure out who asked what question and which woman to look at to answer the question.

One of the wives leaned in closer, her eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "You know, Jack's never been one for long-term commitments. How do you handle it?"

Y/n took a sip of her water, her throat suddenly dry. "We take things one day at a time," she said, her voice a shade too high. The woman's words stung, echoing the whispers she had heard earlier. She knows Jack's past, but she also knows her Jack—the Jack who has always been steadfast, caring, and utterly devoted to her as her best friend. If he can be that kind of person as a best friend, he can be that and so much more to his girlfriend.

The conversation around her grew more pointed, with the women sharing knowing looks and speaking in hushed tones about Jack's history. Y/n felt the heat rising in her cheeks as they dissected her relationship with a man she had known her entire life. She wanted to shout at them, to tell them that their opinions didn’t matter, that Jack was nothing like the person they were describing. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let them get the best of her, not here.

“So this is who Hughes brought with him?” A different person who had approached the table asked.

Collective hums in agreement ring out.

“Jeez, couldn’t find someone a little more…in his league? She is nowhere near a professional athlete worthy.” A snarky snooty voice rang out

“Must be desperate if he had to choose you. Guess all the other women in the remote area finally got a brain.” Another lady smirked watching as Y/n’s eyes glossed over.

Their words were like a knife to her heart. Y/n took a deep breath. She could feel the room closing in on her, the whispers turning into a crescendo of doubt in her mind. She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes as the cool liquid hit the back of her sandpaper dry throat. Silently praying that when she opened her eyes they would all be gone or she would have the courage to stand up and leave.

But instead, Nico was there. His hand was firm on her elbow, gently guiding her away from the table. "Jack sent me to get you," he said, his voice low and soothing. "He's caught up with some donors, but he didn’t want you to feel like he abandoned you.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Thank you," she murmured.

Nico nodded, understanding in his gaze. He steered her through the throng of people, away from the judgmental whispers. They found a quiet corner where the music was just a dull throb in the background. He handed her a glass of champagne. "Jack's a good guy," he said, his voice earnest. "and he is caught up with a donor, but.” He paused and nodded his head in the direction of Jack.

“He has no idea about what was going on. I saw the panic across your face. I wanted to help you and Jack. He’s truly happy right now, last year I was worried about him. I thought I might have to suggest he go on leave. He was out of it. But now he’s an entirely different person. He’s back to playing the way he played before the draft. He says it’s all because of you.” Nico finishes at the same moment Jack happens to make eye contact with Y/n.

Jack’s eyes searched hers for answers she didn’t even know she was giving away. His smile faded as he noticed the sadness and the way she was holding herself. He knew it wasn’t just nerves anymore. He quickly apologized and excused himself from the donor, leaving the man mid-sentence with a look of shock on his face.

He strode over to where Nico had escorted Y/n, his stride purposeful and swift. He didn’t need to ask her nor Nico why they were clear across the ballroom from where he had left her. It was strikingly evident. When he reached them, he placed a hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Thanks, Cap. I’ve got it from here.” Placing his other hand softly on her cheek, his thumb caressing as lightly as a feather.

The look in her eyes spoke volumes. The whispers of doubt and the cruel words of the other women had left their marks, etched into the soft curves of her beautiful face. “Can we go home?” Her voice was weak as now she felt safe enough to crumble.

Jack’s hand moved around her waist and held her close, his hand on her face moved to cradle the back of her head and pulled her into his chest. “Of course. Whatever you want. Whenever you want, baby.” He didn’t like seeing her this way, didn’t like knowing that she was hurt because of his reputation. Or so he thought.

Her body melted into his, her arms wrapping around his waist, she leaned back and looked up at him. “Let’s go home.” The words barely make it out of her mouth before the first tear slips from her eye.

[i-hate-people-1]

Car trouble

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom reader

I did something new to me this chapter and attempted to write smut because the way I wanted them to get together was originally going to allude to it but I just decided to go for it lmk what you think be brutally honest. Also someone asked to be tagged so lmk if you want to be included too!

Warnings~ Smut, language, little bit of dom sub dynamics , fingering smut under the cut!

“Eddie I’m sure it’ll make it home,” you repeat, staring at his bedroom dauntingly.

“Are you kidding me, Y/N? There was smoke coming out of the hood, and it sounded like a dying cat when you tried to turn it over.” Eddie argues, rifling through his drawers. “It’s okay, doll; I’ll take it to the shop in the morning.” He finishes walking over to you with some haphazardly folded clothes.

You nod, taking the clothes from him, and he walks out of the room to give you some privacy.

You tie the sweatpants around your waist, slipping your shirt off, contemplating whether or not to take your bra off, finally deciding that you didn’t want to be uncomfortable. You slip the worn T-shirt over yourself, making a mental note to ask Eddie what the Hellfire Club was.

You walk down the hallway. Eddie’s in the kitchen finishing up making Milly and Tilly hot milk.

You peek past the kitchenette; the girls are all curled up together on the couch watching Sesame Street.

“I’ll take over if you want to put on something more comfortable.” You offer to peek over his shoulder.

“It’s okay; I’m almost done.” Eddie turns his head to look at you, not realizing how close that would put your faces.

You resist the urge to look down at his lips.

“Sorry,” you mumble, scooting back.

Eddie finishes the milk, handing both girls a cup and Hunny a bottle, then walking off to his bedroom to change.

You try your hardest to focus on the TV, struggling as your mind continues to wander to thoughts of the man in the other room. The way he offered you all a place to stay without question, loaning you and Tilly clothes and making Hunny a bottle before you got the chance—it was all very domestic, making you long for more.

Your eyes immediately snap to his frame as he emerges from the hallway. He’s wearing plaid pajama pants that hang low on his hips and a black Guns N’ Roses T-shirt cut off just above his belly button, exposing his toned stomach hair is pulled out of his face in a neat bun. He looks hot. You try your best to push the thought out of your mind, but it’s hard when he’s walking around looking like he just walked out of a magazine.

The girls are all out cold not thirty minutes later you and Eddie, each carrying one , tuck them into Milly's bedroom.

You pick Hunny up and transfer her to the pack n play Eddie had fished out of his junk closet.

“Are you sure you want to take the couch?” Eddie asks with a raised brow, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, I couldn’t take your bed.” You wave, forcing yourself to look away from him before you lose your will and jump his bones.

“Okay,” he relents with a sigh, walking over to you. “Goodnight, doll,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering for a moment, then pulling away and walking off to his bedroom.

You tried to sleep, you really did, but your mind is plagued with thoughts of Eddie, kind, sweet, caring, sexy, beautiful, gorgeous, crop-top-wearing Eddie.

You shift uncomfortably, unable to stop your eyes from looking back to the hallway Eddie had disappeared into.

On the other side of the hallway, Eddie tossed and turned, trying his best to not think like a horny teenage boy sleeping in the same house as a pretty girl, but seeing you in his clothes, his Hellfire shirt, did something to him.

It’s not like he’s the only one either; he saw the way you were looking at him when you saw him in his pajamas.

Eddie turns over, groaning into his pillow. He knows why neither of you had made a move: you had the girls to think about, and and and… His mind trailed off as he tried to come up with another reason why you shouldn’t be together, but he was coming up blank on every turn. It’s not like the girls would even care; hell, they’d probably be thrilled!

That’s it! He thinks about jumping up from the bed before he can change his mind and ripping the door open, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you already in front of the door.

“I-“ you start, but Eddie’s lips smashing into your own cut you off.

He kisses you hard and deep, pulling your body flush against his own. It takes you a minute to process, quickly deepening the kiss once you come to your senses.

Eddie pulls you into the room, shutting the door and making sure to lock it before pressing you against it.

“Jump,” he instructs against your lips, to which you immediately obey, whining as he grips the meat of your ass. “Shh, baby, gotta be quiet.” It’s a whisper in your ear, and it takes every fiber of self-control you have to moan when he sucks your earlobe in between his teeth.

Eddie carries you to the bed, sitting down on the edge and making you straddle him.

You kiss down his neck, biting and nipping at his throat, relishing in the soft sounds he makes. “Who needs to be quiet now?” you tease, grinding your hips down on his own. Eddie is having none of it, grabbing your cheeks in one hand. “Don’t be a brat,” he tells you, and you whine particularly loud. “You like that doll? Like being put in your place?” Hes, and you nod fervently. “Good, now be quiet, or I’ll stop.” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond, smashing his lips into yours once more, exploring your mouth with his tongue. He cups your clothed cunt before slipping a hand into his sweatpants, teasing you over your panties. He pulls back from your lips so he can watch your face contort in pleasure as he rubs your clit, groaning at how wet you already are for him.

As much as he wants to keep teasing you, he’s starting to get impatient, moving your panties to the side and slipping a finger into you. “So tight,” he moans, throwing his head back at how warm your cunt is, sucking him back in eagerly with each thrust. It’s not long before he’s adding a finger, thumb rubbing skillfully against your clit, leaving you a moaning mess as you inch closer to your high with each thrust of his fingers. “Love your pretty sounds, baby, but you gotta be fuckin quiet,” he grunts, gagging you with two fingers from his other hand. “Gonna cum for me, baby?” He coos when your pussy starts to clench harder around his fingers. “So fucking pretty,” he tells you as you nod dumbly, sucking on his fingers. “Yeah, be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” You let go as soon as he gives you permission. Sounds muffled by his fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Fuck, that was so hot,” he let out, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue.

Eddie lays you down on the pillows, kissing down your jaw hands slipping up his T-shirt, cupping your boobs. “Fuck,” he groans, rolling his hips against your own.

“No, my turn,” you whine and manage to flip you over so you’re on top when Eddie reaches to pull his sweatpants off your hips.

“You don’t have to oh—“ you shut him up with the kiss you trail down his tummy, nipping at his hip bone. “Fuck, pretty girl.” His head falls back against the pillows, gripping your hair when you kiss over his clothed crotch.

You’ve only just managed to slip your hand past his boxers when a soft knock sounds on the door.

“I’ll get it,” you sigh, letting your head fall to rest on his thigh for a second before gaining your composure.

Eddie uses the time it takes you to make it to the door to adjust himself.

When you open the door, Milly and Tilly are standing on the other side, hand in hand. “Can we sleep with you guys?” Milly asks through a yawn.

You like to think you know Eddie well enough to know he wouldn’t mind, and if the grin on his face as both sleepy girls climb into the bed.

“Hey, sweetheart, Princess,” he greets both girls, hugging them each in one arm. They hug him back, each placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, what about me?” you pout, coming to sit on the other side of the bed. The girls giggle, showing you the same love before snuggling under the covers between you and Eddie.

It’s not long before Hunny starts crying. Eddie looks over at you, but you're already asleep, an arm draped over both girls. He smiles, deciding he can handle this one.

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, Hunny,” Eddie coos, picking the crying baby out of the pack n play. “You feeling a little left out?” Hunny giggles when Eddie pinches her cheeks, tickling her neck with a finger.

You all sleep soundly the rest of the night.

@angvlicsoulll

[kaaaaaaarf]

love calcified.

(rambling about loss under the cut)

I lost my cousin Wayne to complications from the AIDS virus when I was a teenager—to be clear, a very long time ago. Raised for half of my childhood with a single parent, cousin Wayne (who was only six years younger than my mom) helped to raise me. He lived in Toronto with his partner, and they would take me when my mom needed a break. His home was always warm and he always made me feel loved and special. As I grew up, he would take me shopping, buy me trinkets and books that I loved. He never forgot a birthday, and when I was a tween, he bought me a subscription to Seventeen magazine, because he knew how grown up it made me feel.

When I got to high school and my closest friend was the only gay person out in my school, he offered to email him back and forth to make him feel less alone.

He was unfailingly kind and funny and loving.

When cousin Wayne died, we didn't know it was happening until it was over. He tried to save us the grief. He didn't want us to remember him in death, only in life. He was, and is, one of my favourite people.

Sometimes I think about how he lived with AIDS for nearly 15 years and how close he was to living until they found proper treatment. I guess it doesn't matter, you can't change the past.

More often than not these days, I find myself thinking about him. Maybe it's because I'm older now than he was when he died, or maybe because being older in general makes you think about these things. I think of him every time I see an older gay man, or a piece of art by Keith Haring, or a post on Tumblr about the AIDS quilt. When I look on my dresser and see the bracelet he bought me when I was eight. When I see a copy of the Guinness Book of World Records or walk through the Village. He's impossible to forget, but I wouldn't want to.

I wonder if he would like me as a grown up, or if we would have lost touch over time. I wonder if he would have had kids or married his partner when gay marriage was legalized. I wonder if I would spend summer nights with him on a patio, drinking and laughing together. If my mother would have been different had he been able to stay around.

I miss him and my grief is just as much of a solid mass as it was when he died...but I'll take the grief if that's all I'm allowed. It's alright, it's just love calcified.

[thefifteenthdivisionarchives]

Karakura Gang Future Headcanons

"Chad's a boxer and Uryuu's a doctor! Deal with it!"

No, I will not. I will continue to be in denial.

I'm inspired by this post. Enjoy (note: I will not talk about Ichihime or any ship whatsoever here)

Ichigo Kurosaki

Honestly...him becoming a translator is okay. It's actually pretty cool that his reasoning is to connect people.

Usually, English would be the main thing he translates (from what I understand), however, he does go on to learn other languages...such as Spanish and German

He's learning the latter two from Chad and Uryuu respectively

He also knows sign language, but mainly JSL

His God awful haircut gets fixed. Why does the main character's hair get cut short like that in the finale? Please, Oda, don't do that to Luffy.

Orihime Inoue

From the post mentioned above, I like the idea of her becoming a writer. She has one helluva an imagination.

Hell, she could also be a mangaka. She likes to draw too.

Her main genre is 'weird fiction' just because of how out of pocket she can be, not to mention that she's kinda inspired by all the crazy stuff that's happened in her life.

Imagine how confused people would be reading a book/manga that's like something out of HP Lovecraft or Junji Ito and go to a 'meet the author' event and it's this adorable ray of sunshine and flower petals.

Uryuu Ishida

He had the makings of becoming a fashion designer, why rob him of this, huh?

Also, wasn't he like...traumatized over his father basically dissecting his mother? I get that he probably...got over it(?) over the past 10 years???? ...I feel like we're overlooking this...or all the trauma the characters deal with, really.

Anyways, there has been occasions when women from the Gotei 13 want to become his model...its typically Rangiku. She loves his brand and even has magazines showcasing his designs.

Sometimes, Rangiku'll drag others with her to be his models, both women and men.

Uryuu still makes clothes for his friends on the side

I've seen fanart (it's paired with Jugram) of Uryuu with this really nice hairstyle. It's like...longer-ish than his 17yo hairstyle and maybe slightly wavy? ...Wait, that's another combo from his parents. wow...Ryuuken's hair does look a little wavy to me.

I love it though...and it vaguely reminds me of Yuga Aoyama lol

Either that or his hair has grown long enough to be a in a ponytail, though still wavy looking.

To keep up with the 'pediatrician' spirit though, Uryuu does occasionally visit patients at his father's hospital, especially the little kids.

He'd make them puppets and plushies, making him very popular, and knit with the elderly

He'd also donate to the hospital too

Yasutora Sado

I don't know about you guys, but Chad becoming a boxer...worries me a little

Maybe its because of my HC about him needing to be careful with using his strength like that due to his nature as a Fullbringer.

So, I agree with the writer of the post above that Chad would be great with animals

I think he would make a great veterinarian's assistant

I think about him just being a vet in general, but I don't think it fits his character.

He's a helper at the end of the day. He likes to be of use to someone.

He'd be unbothered by even the most uncooperative pet

You know he'd be a great help if a flippin' Saint Bernard is brought in

Tatsuki Arisawa

Make her a vale Tudo champ and eventual coach!

She gets a girlfriend...and that's all I will share

Keigo Asano

Just like Ichigo, Keigo's job is fine.

Man deserves to have a low risk job as a ramen shop owner

He and Mizuiro have a podcast on the side

Mizuiro Kojima

I can honestly see him as a journalist

Idk. Seems fitting to me.

[oensible]

Centre Ice (October 2012), pp. 1, 38, 40–43, 62

Cover photoshoot photographer: Justin Van Leeuwen (Flickr/blog)

Game photographer (pg. 42): Mark Holleron

It was a tight schedule, figuring out when to shoot Cody only a few days before deadline… he also had a cold, but he’s a tough hockey player and you really can’t tell. [...] Cody was fun to shoot, he’s a successful good looking kid, signed to the NHL at the tender age of 18. I reminded him that he should pay back his parents for all the years they put him and his siblings through hockey before going out and buying a sports car.

—Van Leeuwen/jvlphoto (2012 Sept 21)

NOTES:

the hillary's ad page originally comes before the article in the magazine. moved it to save space without affecting the spread

omitted pages 8 (contains smaller version of the hallway shot, substituted with the flickr upload by the photographer), 30 (too crunchy, standard guy-standing-during-game shot), and 33 (team portraits page)

omitted original version of the cover image (redundant. also available on flickr) and the portrait against white (low resolution, not cohesive with the rest of this post) from the jvlphoto blog post

Article transcript below the cut.

Full Circle

Cody Ceci's hockey journey

Written by Braedon Clark

The picture has been scanned onto Parri Ceci's phone, rescued from a dusty box by his wife Karen. The Senators wanted some childhood photos of their latest draft pick, Parri and Karen's son Cody, and this one was a no-brainer.

Cody is four years old in the picture, his sister Chelsea six. Their Senators jerseys are littered with signatures. Both smile for the camera, Cody's grin obvious even behind the cage of his mask. The man in the middle of the shot, arms around both kids, is Daniel Alfredsson. All three are standing at centre ice, skates astride the Senators logo at what was then the Corel Centre.

Fourteen years later, Cody Ceci's hockey journey has taken him full circle. In late June, he was drafted 15th overall by the Senators after playing for his hometown 67's for the past three seasons. Less than a month ago, he signed his first NHL contract in the same building where he once skated as a four-year-old, where he once cheered from the stands, where he once posed with childhood heroes-turned-teammates.

"That picture probably makes (Alfredsson) feel pretty old, but it's pretty cool for me," Cody says with a smile. "Just getting to meet him a few times when I was younger was huge for me and now to play on the same team would be pretty crazy."

It may be unlikely still, as the NHL seems poised to plunge into its second lockout in just eight years. Along with every other would-be rookie, Cody might not get a chance to make the big club if the season doesn't start on time.

"I'm just trying to prepare myself as if there is going to be a season," he says. "I'm just going to go hard in the next few weeks trying to get ready for Sens camp and if there is one, great. If not, it'd be pretty unfortunate."

For now, on this flawless Saturday morning, Cody is at the Fred Barrett Arena in Gloucester, where the 67's are holding training camp. He's dressed casually — sunglasses rest atop his head, while shorts and sandals complete the summer ensemble. A recent bout of strep throat has kept him off the ice, forcing him to watch from behind the glass like everyone else.

Despite his made-in-Ottawa pedigree, Cody did move to Peterborough when he was 13 to attend Lakefield College School, a prestigious institution that was attractive because of its high academic standards.

"Another friend of ours whom (Cody) had played spring hockey with suggested it," explains Parri. "Their two sons had gone there for educational reasons because their graduating class averaged 85 per cent. It was a really good opportunity for Cody and he was thrilled to go. He loved the school."

On the ice, Cody stood out as a member of the Peterborough Petes AAA minor midget squad.

"You knew he was going to the NHL," says Wayne Clark, who coached Cody during his OHL draft year.

"He had an absolute hammer of a slapshot from the point."

For Clarke, one moment during a tournament in Belleville especially stands out from that season.

"We had a power play and we started to isolate Cody and another player we had, Turner Evans, on the right side," Clark remembers. "Cody blew one shot over the goalie and a whole bunch of OHL scouts and I said, 'Wow, he is this good. Some of these tools are outstanding."

That slapshot helped Cody get drafted 16th overall in 2009. Only two years removed from leaving his home in Orleans, he was back.

During the ensuing three seasons with the 67's, Cody developed into an elite defenceman with an offensive touch, tallying 60 points in 64 games last season.

That combination of skills made him one of the highest-ranked prospects heading into June's NHL draft in Pittsburgh. According to Parri, Winnipeg and Dallas had expressed interest, but as those picks came and went a nervous tension settled on the Ceci travelling party.

"When they finally stood up at the mike and said my name it was just a great feeling that I was going to stay at home," Cody says.

"We didn't even hear the announcement because there were so many people around us cheering," adds Parri.

Since that night there hasn't been much time for celebration. Cody was on the ice at rookie camp within a couple of weeks and trains almost every day with a group that includes several NHL draftees. He also played in the Canada-Russia Challenge, where his lack of playing time – he only appeared in two of the four games – drew some negative press.

"The main thing is what the Sens are saying to me about it," he explains. "They didn't seem too angry or anything, just more frustrated that I didn't play that much."

As a capper to a whirlwind summer, Cody recently signed a three year, $2.775-million contract with the Senators. But don't expect him to move into a swank bachelor pad anytime soon. Cody says his dad has been counselling him about money management –The Wealthy Barber is on the reading list – and his mom loves having him at home.

With few distractions to speak of, Cody can focus on getting better and making the Senators in the event that a lockout is avoided. Chris Byrne, head coach and general manager of the 67's, knows what adjustments his star defenceman will have to make.

"It's obviously the best league in the world so it's definitely a few rungs up on the ladder," Byrne says. "For him, depending on how well his game adjusts to that higher speed and level will determine how quickly he gets there."

Back at training camp, Cody reflects on what it's like to be famous at 18. He seems especially attuned to the emotions of young autograph-seekers, perhaps because he was one himself not so long ago.

"You know they're just building up courage to talk to you so you don't want to let them down or anything," he says. "It's hard for them to even come up and ask because they feel embarrassed, but at the same time they just really want it and they're kind of nervous to talk to you. It's kind of cool that happens and you just make sure you respect them."

The first on-ice scrimmage comes to an end with the shrill sound of the horn. The hopefuls from the black and white teams skate wearily to the locker room as Cody joins the rush of people trying to escape the chill of the rink for the inviting warmth of the lobby.

Everyone here knows who he is. As he makes his way through the crowd, several people give him a nod or a quick hello. About five feet behind him are two young boys, no more than six or seven. They move a little closer, then fall back, dancing with apprehension and nerves. Finally one of them works up the courage.

"Will you take a picture with us?" he asks with a small voice.

"Sure." Cody says.

He stands in the middle, arms draped over the tiny shoulders to his left and right. The picture is taken and the two little boys thank him before running over to see how it turned out.

Full circle indeed.

CODY'S ICE FLOW

YEAR — TEAM — COACH

1999 — Gators-IP — Denis Sicotte

2000 — Aardvarks-IP — Stephane Drouin

2001 — Barons-Novice B — Mike Funai

2002-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2002 — Barons - Minor Atom B — Guy Bigonesse

2003-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2003 — Barons-Atom AA — Guy Bigonesse

2004-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2004 — Barons-Minor Peewee A — Jeff Akeson

2005-Spring — Riot AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2005 — Barons-Peewee AA — Richard Julien

2006-Spring — Riot AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2006 — Barons-Minor Bantam AA — Richard Legault

2007-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2007 — Peterborough Petes Bantam AAA — Scott Donato

(2007) — Lakefield College School Varsity — lan Armstrong

2008-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2008 — Peterborough Petes Minor Midget AAA — Wayne Clark

(2008) — Lakefield College School Varsity — lan Armstrong

(2008) — Peterborough Stars Jr. A — Paul Matucci

2009-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2009 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

December 2009 — U17 Team Ontario (Timmins) — Jake Grimes

2010 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

2011-Spring — U18 Team Canada (Germany) — Mike Williamson

2011 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

(2011) — OHL vs. Russia — George Burnett

2012-Fall — WJC vs. Russia — Steve Spott

2012 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

[nenoname]

I heard that Stanford had a kissing robot and held hands with a girl before but I can’t seem to find any info on that stuff? Is it a fan thing?

that's mostly in the swine before time stan commentary! but i'm pretty sure cathy was first mentioned in one of bill's codes in journal 3

i'll just paste the entire ford section of the commentary here (but you can see that stan gets some details messed up cos instead of her screaming at ford's hand he says that cathy poured punch on ford when that was the prom incident we see in tots instead)

Y’know, I suppose Sixer might be able to make some sorta drill that could get me back down to the dinosaur cave with some real attractions. Like his inventions always backfire, like (laughs) like this one time in high school, he’ll hate that i’m talking about this so, should I talk about this? Yeah, I’ll do it, okay. So this one time in high school, my brother, Stanford– well, it started out like this; so Fordsy had a fear of girls ever since Cathy Crenshaw got freaked out by his hand in third grade, uh, those of you listening, I’ve got a brother, he’s got six fingers. It’s kinda cool, he’s great at piano, y’know? He could do really cool like, shadow puppets but uh, in elementary school, kids could be cruel and uh, I guess it sorta traumatised him? He tried to hold a girl’s hand. She spilled punch on his head and ever since then he had a hard time talking to girls, unlike- unlike myself. That’s life. Anyway, cut to high school, the guy’s never kissed a girl, prom is coming up and he asked me for advice. “Stanley, I know things have been a little weird between you and me with college but can you talk to me about girls?” Um, and y’know, I said, uh “whatever you do, don’t be yourself. You’re gonna freak ‘em out. Act like me!” And so we tried for a couple of days, we actually traded places. He dressed up as me, I dressed up as him and I was hoping that would make the ladies flock to him. But instead he was ruining my reputation, right? Like he was destroying my game all over the place so we switched back. I said “you’re a hopeless case” and he, (laughs) his solution as he is wont to do was to build like a kissing practice robot, okay.  It was basically a mannequin head with a rubik’s cube for a mouth and a siren attached to its head that would go off if you were kissing it wrong. Like he read a bunch of Mom’s magazines for women about men and programmed that into the machine so the only way to get the siren to stop is for you to learn to kiss properly. Anyway, cut to all of us in gym class, the head falls out of his gym bag. The siren starts going off. The only way to stop the thing is for him to kiss it in front of the whole class! (laughs) Ah, man! Ha… he was still more popular than me. Not my fault. 

For a science fair, I asked Ford to help me invent a football throwing robot just to get someone to throw a football around with me. But, uh, Ford wouldn’t do it, he was mad about the whole Kissbot incident so I had to invent my own football throwing robot. Just duct tape a football to a toaster, call it Footbot. I mean, what’s a guy gotta do to get one game of catch with his old man? Right? Whatever, Whatever! Doesn’t matter!

[damnfandomproblems]

Hello, I would like to respond to 6727 as somebody who occasionally consumes the type of content op is talking about.

I am a 30-something year old cis bisexual woman. I am lucky to say that barring the usual sexism and minor harassment most women experience, I was never sexually abused so I don't have any sexual trauma that I know of. When I was 7 to 10 I has an intense fascination with sex. Now let me make clear, both in the past and present day I never wished I'd been abused and obviously being a child I didn't realize what sex implicates and that I was years away from even being ready to try it, but a part of me believed I wanted to do it. I would fantasize having sex with grown up celebrities, I would draw people having sex on a secret notebook, I'd pilfer semi-dirty magazines from I don't remember where and cut out pictures of topless and nude models of any gender, stills from dirty movies, miniaturized movie posters where the characters did the do, and make collages in said notebook, those sort of things. I don't know if this is the average experience of any allosexual child, especially a female one, but it is mine. It didn't last long.

I discovered fanfiction and ao3 late by today's standards, in my early 20s. I didn't flock automatically to lolisho. I don't even consume lolisho content that often. What happened is that reading more erotica, some days I would seek fics for, yes, wankbank material. Once again, I didn't end up in the underage tag right away, but eventually by browsing ship tags sorted by word count I was bound to find it. I clicked on the first with a feeling of disgust that I think op shares. That eventually changed. I think people will have realized by now that I don't focus/put myself in the adult's role, but the child's. Reading lolisho allowed me to explore a tiny buried part of my sexuality that I think had gone repressed for a long time, and yes, I could do it without anyone getting hurt.

Shockingly (/s) after almost a decade I never ended up believing that having sex with children or as children is ok. I also developed a mild incest kink and again shockingly, I never came up with the desire to fuck my sibling or any other member of my family. The love of my life knows about this, understands me, and would be willing to try implementing my kinks in our sex life since we've long successfully implemented theirs, but I don't feel the need to ever bring them out of my brain. We don't plan to ever have kids for reasons that have nothing to do with all of the above. I am a normal human with a job, friends and family, well-adjusted as they come, no criminal record, never physically or mentally harmed anyone intentionally or permanently, and my most interesting thoughts when seeing real life children is that they're cute when they're well-behaved, or devil-spawn when they're making a racket.

And yet people like op would call me a pedophile and inherently immoral if they knew what I sometimes imagine, just imagine, during masturbation. When I do not hurt anyone. Fuck's sake, I have been called a pedophile for defending teen student x professor fanfics! Obviously I'm aware that among the lolisho readers and creators there could be real offenders, but the problem here is that people who haven't done anything wrong are all being thrown together with real child molesters and rapists. I am highkey sick and tired of it. I'm even more scared of how so many people believe there is no difference between the two groups.

I'm not even going to address the second point that a ban on lolisho wouldn't affect queer content. I hope op has realized from the replies, if not from the right wing propaganda of these years, how wrong they are about that.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[officersnickers]

as much as we like to hate justifiably on season 2 you gotta admit the manga kind of started to go down at least for me towards the end.

Something has always bothered me is that raise suicidal attempt is brushed off after one mentioned in volume six and never talked about again. Personally I think this is kind of disrespectful to people who are suicidal and it makes no sense if I remember Ray has been suicidal for a while if I remember correctly. This would have been a great plot about Ray's siblings trying to help him overcome his suicidal tendencies.

Speaking of Ray, he just becomes Emma's dog and does everything she says and it's honestly so sad because I like that he wouldn't always do what his sister said. By the end it feels like everyone's just doing what Emma tells them to and I don't like it because like I said before it's really unrealistic and plus it takes away some moments that could full of disagreement and that could lead to a scene like Don punching Norman and Ray or just an argument. Also I don't know if this is just me being petty but I was really upset when Isabella died and that scene always makes me cry. My friend also hated that and boy does they hate the end. Personally I think it kinda sucks because Emma doesn't lose anything and just gets everything back besides her memories and I don't know how to feel about it because I like the idea that she will always find her family and they'll always be connected but the same time it feels like the the tragedy of the deal is ruined when they reunite and it just felt pointless.

I'm sorry if I make no sense because I need someone to rant about this.

Also I very heavily hc the GF children as siblings so yea.

Hello! Undeniable, The Promised Neverland‘s 2nd seasons as well as the manga‘s ending had their fair share of problems, one more, one less, if you ask me, but every opinion has their own right to be voiced. You see, as much as I love the manga, I also can‘t oversee how rushed especially the later arcs played out. Reasons for this vary, from manga author Kaiu Shirai falling ill frequently and being pressured by Shonen Jump‘s not very good, very terrible working policy, not to mention a lack of conifdence in his own abilities, I think. He planed the first arcs well through, with enough time to flesh out characters and story beats, and it shows in the Escape arc. With those following, it either had to be changed (like the kids exploring the demon world being swapped out with the shelter and Goldy Pond-arcs due to of Dr. Stone running in the magazine the same time) or were cut short because of physical and mental health issues. And I really, really mourn this! In my opinion, everything revolving Norman, the demons and the human world needed more time to shine, because it could have! Just look at the bonus chapters dropped after the series end; they brought back the magic of the first arc, and it‘s easy to tell why – more time and resources to conclude the stories.

That being said, I don‘t fully agree with your opinion regarding Ray becoming Emma‘s dog (this made me choke because y‘know, stating he switched from Isabella to his friend‘s dog just hurts my feelings ^^‘). His suicide attempt could have brought up more often, for sure, but the few glimpses we got in the following chapters afterwards were not only adorable, but also showed insight how much Ray still suffers due to it.

I don‘t think it was necessary though to bring it up constantly, because Ray made a vow – to live, and to protect his family. You can‘t do neither of these if you‘re constantly think about the past and your (inner) demons, especially in the environment they had to thrive afterwards. Just some important scenes, like their reunion with Norman (or home boy at least thinking about it before facing Ray), maybe at some point with Isabella. I know it could have ruined the flow of the chapters, so I‘m just saying it would have been an oportunity not taken.

On the other hand, I really don‘t like some of the other‘s joke about Ray‘s attempt on ending his life, like with Lani and Thoma. Idk, it fits the tone of the scene, but it still fucks me up a bit.

But back to „Ray became Emma‘s dog“ (you see, I‘m just writing this into the blue) – and I disagree! Sure, his role did shrink, more or less, depending on the situation, but them teaming up more often is actually one of my most beloved things about the manga. Emma did become more aware of her surroundings, learning a lot of Norman and Ray, while the latter got a more optimistic world view. They still argue, they still stand on different sides sometimes, but Ray learned to trust Emma, like with speaking to Yuugo and becoming his ally, not pulling a genocide on the demons and so on. Emma did help Ray grow and mature and finally get that light back for all his life he only had previously around his two best buddies. They still have their disagreements, and sure, Ray could have been more pro-active in them sometimes, but in the end, Emma‘s the main character. Of course her world view will be the right one, not those of Mr.Kill-all-the-demons or Peter „the world was peaceful for 1000 years, why are you booing me all of a sudden?“ Ratri. It was always part of her character to defy others, starting with Isabella, Ray and even Norman, and only continiung with Legravalima and Peter.

Plus, I‘m sick and tired of the whole „Emma‘s a naive, dumb girl“-discussion, because fuck yeah, she sometimes is! As she should be! She‘s twelve years old, got a heart of gold and wants to do better! Not all her decisions are wise or reasonable, and that‘s why everyone admires her nonetheless – because she makes things true everyone told her were impossible. It‘s a classic shounen trope, and if Goku, Naruto and co. are allowed to do it, so should Emma. I guess a lot of „hate“ stemms from the fact she‘s a girl protagonist; girls in these stories should be the voice of reason, instead of pulling the „friendship is stronger than hate“-card every so often at their enemies.

But enough with defending Emma. Regarding Isabella, I‘m on your side. She shouldn‘t have died, period. I know Shirai‘s reasons, understanding them to a certain degree, and still disagree. You can only do better when you‘re alive; now she‘s gone and that‘s it. No real resolve for Ray, no apology for Norman, no new relationship with Emma after her memory loss. Just… a memory. Nothing more than that, and even lost to some.

Hmm, I‘d say on the other hand Emma lost quite a bit. She lost herself. Everything she ever was, she ever had. She got some of it back, but again, the memory of her mother? Of her fathers, Yuugo and Lucas? Even all the pain that shaped her into the person she was? Much like Isabella, she can‘t bring it back. Emma can form a new self of her own, and that‘s okay for me. Her family and friends are there for her. But she will never be the same, for better or for worse. She‘s literally the last cattle child lost in Neverland, much like her anchestor were probably the first. To say that‘s tragic is an understatement, to me, at least.

Bonus: I understand the point of viwing the Goldy Ponc kids as siblings, as many do with the Grace Field kids. Their relationships are open to debatte, and if you love to ship them, go ahead! I do too! But if you like to see them more as siblings, that‘s also fine. Everything‘s allowed as long as everyone stays respectful about it, and luckily, most of the fandom do.

Okay, this became quite lenghty, so I hope you can see my reason as I do see yours. It‘s fascinating we can debatte TPN‘s ending even after all these years, and people getting emotional about it shows me the impact the series had on a lot of us, and to be honest, I love this for us.

[cyborg-franky]

Prompt: hello friends! thank you for providing us with such a fun event, can it be April already? 🤧 if anyone of you feels inspired from it, can i request grocery shopping headcanons with Law, Thatch, Sanji and Robin? like would they scold you for buying too many sweets or do they leave you at the checkout to fetch something they forgot and you panic like when you did when your parents did the same? lol just thinking out loud 🤣 i’m sure i will love everything you come up with! thanks a lot!!

SFW

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

Chaos, she lives for it.

She will let you get whatever you want, she doesn’t mind.

If it’s Halloween she’ll add almost every decoration she can find in the store, deal with it, this is your life now.

100% takes all the free samples, she has many hands, a sample for each right?

She enjoys watching badly behaved kids run around and trip over, the delight on her face when the little shit walks into something.

A fun person to shop with, will always coax you into shopping at strange times of night because that’s when all the lunatics come out, she enjoys being around ‘interesting’ people despite how you cling to her when the guy arguing with the can of baked beans makes eye contact with you.

Neither of you is going to be the one that reminds the other you need more than coffee and Halloween decorations for substance.

BELOW CUT - LAW - SANJI - THATCH

-Every time he hears a child scream you can feel he has this look on his face even if you can’t see it. - Is the type to move someone’s cart if it’s in the middle of the lane. - Law is already mentally done with the trip the second you set foot in the place. - Hears a child crying and just nods his head and mumbles ‘mood’ under his breath. - You have to bribe him with coffee to get him in and to shop. - Has very few opinions on things but will be vocal if he doesn’t like something. - Tries his best not to throw hands at the next person who gives him and his tattoos a shitty look. - Sometimes you decide to leave him on the magazine row and do the shopping yourself. - It takes you both as a pair two hours of him dragging his feet and being unhappy to shop whereas it takes him five minutes by himself. - Just rooms everything into the cart regardless of if you need it.

Has like five shopping lists.

Spends like an hour caressing the melons and other produce to make sure he’s getting the best.

Will fight to the death with the man at the fish counter over prices.

Will fight to the death with the cheese guy if he thinks he’s being cheaped out on quality.

Will fight to the death with the meat guy who cut a piece with too much fat.

Just expect a battle over everything.

Also mansplains all the wines as you pass them, he gives you like an hour-long ‘pros and cons’ of this wine versus this when all you wanna do is get smashed this weekend on the £2.99 bottle of red with the clip art font on the front.

You can have whatever you want as long as he gets to check the label.

He will also fight you to the death if you pick up instant noodles or microwave meals.

Thatch is just an angel.

He might spend too long picking out bread, you notice how much his hair looks like a fancy loaf.

He can’t walk past the fruit section without picking up a pineapple and making a joke about Marco.

You beat him to it now, just to speed things along.

It’s you who needs to have a magazine to hand when he’s shopping in the hair care section.

He’s talking about how he needs like eight bottles of the £10.99 brand, or his hair will just not behave for him.

Puns, puns oh lord puns.

“We need to grab some buns” “I’ll give you some buns to grab” -EYEBROW WAGGLES IN 4D-

He’s fun though, he lets you have some bad things and treats as well as good choices.

Likes to use the cart to whiz along, enjoy a forty something year old man going ‘weee’

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 9 "nisei" thoughts

i have so much to say. i just copied and pasted my notes, and my thoughts were COMICALLY long. but it was SUCH a good episode so i have a LOT to point out. even more than usual, somehow.

(screams to let it all out and then tries to take a deep breath and gather myself)

okay. OKAY FUCK. okay. whew. we start from the top. the very very top, in which i click on the episode. and so begins an emotional rollercoaster.

this episode description mentions a train. as does the one after that!!! am i in for a two parter?!?! well, if so, at least i am prepared with this information, so i don’t get a massive shock like with duane barry! (author’s note: i was right!)

a train. huh. would love to ride one of those someday. unfortunately i’m american. we only really have cargo ones hanging about. but their noise is deeply familiar and comforting to me regardless.

(little did i know that this was the very kind of train to be featured in this episode!!)

camera opens on tennessee! children are riding bikes to watch a train. ah, good to know the desire to stop doing other things and instead watch a train go by is universal.

now it’s night at the train. is some graffiti action going to take place? the music is getting weirder as we look at the top of this train, and it appears we are in for no ordinary graffiti moment as some cars pull up. 

and these people are from japan! in tenneseee! boarding the train…? which is full of science stuff!! this is odd on many levels.

(japan to tennessee… whew, that’s a long flight. give these men some caffeine now!)

caffeine seems to be ignored because they are in surgery looking gear cutting something open. and green stuff flows into a jar? hey. not liking that. 

they are cutting into what looks like, in my opinion, some guts.

until people run in and start shooting!!! really truly shooting and killing everyone!!! what!!! what the hell!! who are these guys!! are they with cig man??? holy fuck, if that WAS an alien autopsy, way to ruin the scientific method with bullets in the lab!!

and they are zipping an alien into a bag!! so it was!!! the blatant disregard for learning here!! it’s appallingly american! who are these people?!!

bum bum bum bum… woo woo woo woo wooo wooo… woo woo woo woo WOOO woo… intro time.

mulder has his feet up on the desk. fiddling with… something. scully opens the door and he tells her to come on in, with the face of a man who is scheming. he has it all dark like a movie theatre!!!

LMAOOOO he ordered a video from a magazine of an alien autopsy. and that must be why he looks like a kid in a candy store. $29.95, plus shipping!!! THAT IS A LOT!!

she’s like, you literally cannot see what they are operating on. and she says it’s hokier than the one they aired on fox news. which means i have to google a few things to learn if that actually happened. actually i don’t want to even know.

he mentions the green goo and he says “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” <- girl how would she know that. also you literally almost died FROM alien blood. so explain.

they’re arguing the merits of what makes an authentic alien autopsy tape, and then he points out how the people burst in with guns right before the film cuts off. well, that could make it look more authentic, or less!

some guy in allentown got the tapes so they’re visiting LMAOOO road trip road trip!!!! to a very old looking house. 

the studio is called “rat tail productions” okayyy. i kinda like that. but it’s all boarded up so they have to try and break in.

and they find a dead body!! that is still warm!!! what is going on!!!

someone else enters!! and mulder chases after them and jumps the fence yelling that he is a federal agent. zooooom that is a speedy man. 

and just when it seems mulder has the guy, he starts kicking and punching and BOOM! down goes mulder. until he shoots something nearby to show he isn’t playing. 

mulder is wet from falling into a bunch of garbage… king. and the language barrier is being a barrier!

(sidenote i’m surprised they didn’t make mulder learn another language in school or for the fbi?? like actually really shocked. you’d think he’d have at least one other one, or a few basic phrases, under his belt. idk, where i’m from higher education in humanities related fields requires language learning, but he somehow escaped)

mulder is pretty despite being covered in garbage and bringing a man to a police station

scully says they can’t find an interpreter! this is not really shocking because they are in pennsylvania. 

“well look at this… a beacon in the night” says mulder whilst smiling, and who is it he glances upon but SKINNER?!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? are they in trouble?? does… skinner know japanese??

(mulder asks and he does not 💔)

skinner says they have to let the guy (kazuo sakurai) go because he is a high ranking diplomat. so if you’re a diplomat can you just… walk away from a murder scene and that isn’t a problem?? at all? i did not think it worked like this.

skinner asks what they’re doing and mulder says he’s tracking down a “video piracy thing” LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever. 

skinner tells him to go back home, and then very purposefully brushes into his shoulder before walking away. yowch! that has got to sting. mulder looks like he just got caught and is trying to charm his way out of it

scully rightfully points out that this makes no sense, and asks if he wants to drop it, but mulder says he paid his $29.95 and he is gonna get his answers!!!

LMAOOO he “forgot” to turn in the suitcase kazuo was carrying. it has a list of members of a ufo society with a local woman’s name circled!! was she gonna be their next target…?

he tells her to get a motel and he is going to go back to D.C. and be “a good boy” for skinner… LMAOOO, and he’ll show the files to his besties 

back in D.C., and woah, mulder looks like a real slut with his hands on his waist and his jeans and tucked in turtleneck sweater. i am NOT complaining. just merely observing. it’s kinda giving that one photo of the rock. i see where he took his style inspo from.

so the lone gunmen say that the japanese were looking for a sunken ship from wartime, and it looks like they found it, but they brought it to virginia? very weird. maybe they did not find a sub… but something else.

the diplomats are heading home. or not. because someone is beating up kazuo! huh?! WHAT!

scully on da scene in allentown pa. serving. knocking at a door of the person whose name was circled in the files.

but the person goes to answer the door and she says they know her. she’s like umm not sure about that?? until another person comes to the door and says “oh my god… she’s one” WHAT??

(is this like a secret society of people who were abducted or like. are they trying to scam her or something?)

she looks super freaked out. she’s trying to explain that she’s here for murder investigation reasons, but the lady in pink (penny) is calling and saying everyone needs to come over right away. this will surely make scully even more stressed.

they ask her if there was some unexplained event that happened last year. and also to please sit down. so you KNOW things are about to get wild.

mulder is asking about the ship that allegedly was returning through panama. and the boat was stopped! but then kept going? the guy he’s asking to look into this does not seem to be pleased to discuss this subject. 

scully is freaking tf out but trying to gently explain that she does NOT KNOW THESE PEOPLE. but they’re talking about being taken to “the bright white place” and that she was only taken once, but these other women were taken many times. WHAT IS GOING ON.

they ask her about regression hypnosis and she’s like i do not want to talk about this. (and yes i even TRIED IT) and she looks around at all the other women and it is creepy. SAVE HER… save them all.

mulder is running away from the guy he asked for the files from. he’s always going somewhere. looking at a boat. looking at another boat. is he gonna sneak on the boat? YES HE IS. HE IS JUMPING ON IT. elbowing a window open to get in. this is a wild man!! he will break into your boat!!!

he’s going through drawers looking for stuff and i’m thinking, oh man i really hope the boat doesn’t start heading out to sea… he has nothing to survive on. and we’ve seen them kill people, so don’t say “accidental” boat abandonment with a guy on it is out of the realm of possibility. but it IS the boat he was hoping for. and now he’s sneaking about its underbelly. 

NO! he has been caught. the boat is being swarmed by men with guns. he seems too tall to hide…. but he did!! AND HE JUMPS INTO THE HARBOR LMAOOOOO, NOOO, THE POLLUTANTS!!

back to scully. i was so caught up in the boat espionage i had forgotten about scully’s dilemma. and they say that she won’t remember what happened to her for a while. cut scene to her being blowed up again like we saw in s2.

and she is really freaking out now, because they point out that they all have the mark and she just wants to learn about this murder, damn it, not unpack trauma!!

but betsy, who she came to see, is dealing with very severe cancer. and they say that what she is dealing with is going to happen to all of them. WHAT??? “we’re all dying because of what they do to us” OH MY GOD??? she has tears in her eyes. WHAT!!! what. 

back to the boat. do i look like i give a damn about the boat!! no!! but mulder is crawling- at night- from the harbor. so did he stay there all evening or….

so he’s once again on the run. and soaking wet. please take a shower, my friend. you know not what they do in that harbor. 

he sees people pulling in to the warehouse nearby!! with guns!!! and we see him sneak by!!! no, mulder, consider going home and not getting caught!! but what if he finds something that can help scully…? and oh my gosh, he doesn’t even KNOW she’s slowly dying yet. oh my gosh wait i need to sit down (said by the girl who is literally sitting)

the orchestral score is popping off, too. he peeks in a window and sees a giant… thing? being gassed. with cameras out and about. like a blimp looking thing. 

somehow he gets a change of clothes. and he goes home but his apartment door was unlocked! so he has his gun. is it skinner? 

IT IS!! whew! that was best case scenario, so it was just wishful thinking on my part, but maybe i really am deeply attuned to this show. skinner is sitting there in the dark. we see some photos on mulder’s desk but they kinda just look like random places. one is some sort of field? and the other is a house, i think? not recognizable to me. but back to the plot at hand.

skinner tells him to put the gun down. sort of like you tell a dog to drop it. he obeys. aww, he is a good boy for skinner, like he mentioned earlier.

so skinner has some tea; kazuo’s body was found in a canal!!!! he didn’t make his flight!! and they government thinks he was killed over his BRIEFCASE!!! 

mulder plays dumb. then he admits that scully has the briefcase in her car. he seems like he’s trying to play it cool but skinner is NOT having it. “this is bigger than me, you, or the FBI, agent mulder” okayyyy king of being vague. and he says he is not getting involved!!! woah!!!

so mulder goes to… a senator!!! yes, the senator we saw very briefly a few times before, whose name is richard matheson? i didn’t really understand that in the past, but maybe it was building up to this. richard says to return the photos, but mulder says he’ll be entangled in a murder investigation, which he cannot afford because he is so close to the truth!

this senator claims to be telling mulder the truth about what is going on. and he explains what happens in tennessee, how the japanese doctors were murdered doing a secret thing. 

“what am i onto here?” , he asks. “monsters begetting monsters”, says the senator. ohhhhhhh that does not sound good.

(i hope he exposes the alien people and the torture and they blow up all the people that hurt scully and the rest of those women and then hold hands)

he’s back in his office with his glasses on. and i would be glad for a glasses mulder win under normal circumstances, but my heart is sick over scully. i take what i can get when i can get it, though, because he is a beautiful man in glasses. 

SCULLY’S BACK!! and she is still freaking out. she relays the news that she might be dying, and he looks up at her so innocently and says “but you’re fine, aren’t you scully?” OHHHH BABY. BABY. GROWN MAN. BUT BABY. OHHHHHHH MY HEART. MY HEART ITS MELTING. MY EYES ARE TEARING. “but you’re fine, aren’t you?” oh lord… he cannot lose anymore people. 

she is terrified- “am i? i don’t know, mulder” NOOOOOOOO MY BABY. STOP. DO NOT DO THIS TO HER.

he pulls up a photo and she says she knows someone in it, but that guy has been dead since 1965. mulder seems to find this difficult to believe, but last episode he was suggesting that someone was bleeding another person’s blood, so i feel he of all people should be open to this idea.

(oh…. they’re using unit 731 for the storyline here. and they have done that in the past as well but. wow. awful lot of baggage to dredge up there. very very painful and unhealed wounds)

((and i guess before they have done similar things involving nazis, right, remember victor? and his experiments? even if it was done before though, it doesn’t make it any less chilling to me. i’m not sure how i feel about using real horrific war crimes as plot points in an alien show))

but my reckoning with history aside, mulder says that four of the men in that photo were in the alien autopsy video. and they were murdered.

“murdered for what? or murdered by whom?” oh scully, you deserve none of the suffering that the world has given to you. NONE OF IT. if i were mulder, i would hug her and never let go ever. ever ever. 

he thinks they’re still trying to make an alien-human hybrid, but she still isn’t buying it, even after everything; she needs proof. she says believing is the easy part, but he disagrees. “you think that believing is easy?” he asks, and it hangs in the air.

oh, i want to linger in that space forever. the tension it creates, the things it reveals about him. how belief is centered on hope, how he has to fight for it, that it doesn’t come as natural as breathing as he might have you thinking. it’s hope for a better future, it’s hope for righting old wrongs, it’s looking where no one else will go find the answers. it’s about getting family back. it’s about fighting and sneaking and learning and even killing to get what you need to know. but it’s never easy. 

FUCK. I’M LIKE GONNA JUMP UP AND DOWN. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!!

they hold eye contact for a bit, until she sighs and breaks it (fuck me, i’m emotional) and he points out that they DO have proof, as he reaches for her arms- the spy photos were tracking a ship that pulled a UFO out of the ocean, and the UFO is in that warehouse that he saw earlier!! that thing i said looked like a blimp!!!

he says the US has a secret railroad. i yearn so desperately for accessible transportation. if the government said tomorrow, yeah, we have a secret rail system, i’m not sure how i’d react. perhaps relief?

there is very very very charged eye contact. 

okay, bringing the thingy from her neck to a guy who can understand it. it’s a “micro processor”, and there are a few companies that make them. and they are being used for many things. so was it made by ordinary people, and not alien tech…? who is doing the torturing and testing…? and to what end???

it’s all women in that room… is it for alien breeding purposes… oh, i shutter to imagine

back in west virginia!!! mulder has a leather jacket on and a dream as he climbs up into some sort of railroad building’s roof. his hair blows dreamily in the wind as he busts out some binoculars. if he were to be caught, he could probably convincingly claim he was a birder. i understand they go through a lot to find their birds. 

people are showing up. they’re speaking japanese and getting what looks like a LIVING ALIEN onto the train? mulder is on the move. the train is taking off. is he gonna play subway surfers irl and try to jump on that thing? yes, he is SPRINTING. but he realizes he cannot outrun a train. 

back to scully cam. she is watching footage. a japanese surgeon is taking off his surgical gear and she recognizes him!! OH MY GOSH SHE RECOGNIZES HIM FROM HER TESTING! NOOOOO!!! NOOOO!

she answers the phone like she wasn’t unpacking horrific information and mulder reports from west virginia. and she points out that she recognizes the doctor… but not from the video tape. NOOOOOOO. realization crosses his face, and i’m sure only adds fuel to his fire to get on that damn train.

so mulder is trying to catch up with the train. a handsome japanese man is being followed by the dude that killed the other guy earlier. AND NO!!!! the killer just killed the handsome japanese man and locked him in the bathroom. then adjusted his hair???

mulder JUST misses the train. perhaps this is for the best?

scully going home. WHY IS X THERE?!?!?!? he’s telling her to tell mulder to get OFF OF THE TRAIN. she rightly is suspicious but he is NOT playing around.

mulder is about to leap on top of the train when he gets the call from scully. and he asks who told her what he was doing and to stop it, and like me, she is also probably realizing she doesn’t know this dude X’s name. 

and he jumps on the train!!! but loses his phone in the process!!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!

WHAT THE HELL.

okay, my yelling aside, THIS is when the show is at its best, imo. THIS is the blueprint for me. character driven. heart of the plot. reveal after reveal but vague enough to keep me wanting more. the government is evil and every conspiracy has more conspiracies. getting to know what is ACTUALLY going on in snippets. skinner is there. this episode truly had it all.

EXCEPT an ending, of course, because now i have to WAIT to watch the next part. SO TRULY DIABOLICAL!

no no, i jest, i can take a cliffhanger most of them time. i just better not have ANY distractions tomorrow. 

whew, so much to unpack. i think there are two things that are sticking out the most to me here: scully’s terror and mulder’s belief.

her not knowing what to believe is true about herself and the world she has studied so carefully, being surrounded by strangers who claim to know her, that know things ABOUT her, and who tell her she is going to die slowly and horribly. how she tears up when she learns this. how she tried so hard to get control over the situation by pivoting to the murder case, only to be denied. how the reigns of control slip from her hands, and it is left to fate. and how horrific that is. how she cannot handle processing what was done to her, but is forced to, by seeing this guy who did unspeakable things to her again. how she says she needs proof. as if she’s biding her time, waiting for a full answer so that the reality of what she has gone through can sink in. if there’s never proof, maybe she’ll never have to process it.

and mulder, who thinks that belief is hard. who has sacrificed so much of his life to belief, put himself in danger countless times to find the truth that everyone around him either denies or ridicules him for. how he has little more than his work, because he needs there to be hope. if belief is terror for scully, to him it is a source of possibility. how they’re both wrapped into the same tragedy with entirely separate takes on what it means and how to proceed but whatever is bringing them together keeps weaving them tighter and tighter. 

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. i could scream.

i actually typed all of that, took way more notes than usual, and STILL feel like i’m barely scratching the surface. i feel like i need to give a lecture on this subject matter to even sort of drain the giant well within me of feelings regarding them. his face, how he insists she has to be okay, right? right? and her terror when she admits she doesn’t know.

now. i hate to say it, but i have seen vague spoilers about what happens in the next season, involving illness. and i have a feeling i’m gonna cry like a baby because i’m so messed up just by this. maybe it’s a sensitive topic for me, or maybe i’m just too deeply attached to these nerds and need them to be happy. 

but the depth of my feeling is indicative of how amazing this episode was. it was fast-paced, but not too fast to follow. it explored our character’s hopes and dreams and fears. the dialogue and acting was excellent. how much can be said with just eye contact, and then it breaking, is stunning. i want to know what happens next, and despite my eagerness, i am too disciplined and sleepy to go onto the next episode. 

(i have some thoughts that i need to gather and articulate at a later time regarding the use of unit 731 as a plot point, but they’re still loading, and frankly it would be better to make a post just on that subject once i can figure out how to verbalize them and if i feel that i can confidently tackle the subject matter)

goodnight world, i’m gonna scream.