#just to clarify. the top one is completely unedited

[shrinevandal]

i love cards where all three shinonome siblings are present, wish we got more of them 🧡🤎💜

[7-deadly-simpin]

I'm sorry I couldn't find the rules so feel free to ignore this if it doesn't fit, but I was thinking on a disaster wedding, like everything goes wrong or weird, the "priest" Mixes up the names, groomsmen faints, flower girl throws poison ivy instead of flowers, things like that. And to top it all MC forgets their vows and runs!?

I wonder how would they (not-und or bros, or whoever you want, heck, you can do Mephistopheles if you want but I feel Lucifer would be the funniest one) react, what would they do.

Any format you'd like. I just leave the idea!

Love your writing and chaos! Good night!

Well poop...I...I don't even have rules set up. I really need to get on that. On that note, you are completely fine lovey!

Oooooh yes yes yes! Let's have some fun! Thank you so much lovey! This ended up much longer than expected. This is unedited so there may be a few mistakes..!

Wedding Misadventures- Lucifer

It was meant to be the perfect day for the two of you.

You were to marry one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom.

Handsome, stoic, pretty nice butt as well (stop saying that last part out loud, you know how much it embarrasses him)

But you must have forgot where you were, NOTHING is simple here.

First off, Mammon had to be forcibly dragged to the ceremony....in chains.

He was probably the most upset of the brothers that you chose to spend the rest of your life with Lucifer.

Second, the colors were all wrong.

A minor inconvenience to you, but a death sentence for whoever messed up for Lucifer. 

And the FLOWERS???

Loudly exclaims “My peonies…!”

Belphie ready with a retort yells back “THEY’RE MARIGOLDS…!”

This demon is about to lose his shit, and of course you’re nowhere in sight…!

The groom isn’t supposed to see his partner until the ceremony begins!

You didn’t have too many friends in the Devildom, so who else would step in as part of your team other than the exchange students?

Luke was the cutest little flower angel, and although he wasn’t the happiest about it, for you he promised to be the best.

Too bad Luke dropped the flowers he was supposed to throw into the lake.

Panicked, he quickly grabbed a bunch of flowers from the surrounding area and some leaves for good measure.

As he threw petals and leaves here and there, a murmur could be heard from the stands.

Maybe it was because there was dirt and grass mixed in with the petals...he did hastily pick them from the ground after all.

Or...ouch...why is his skin so itchy right now? It feels like...oh sugar cookies 

(This is how Luke curses, change my mind) 

NOW he gets why it said that field was “off limits”....

All is well when Lucifer is waiting at the altar and you saunter in looking absolutely stunning.

The color, the fit, everything looked amazing and no one could keep their eyes off you.

You bet your butt Solomon and Simeon were balling their eyes out on your side of the altar.

For your happiness or because you were getting married to Lucifer, they couldn’t stop crying long enough to clarify.

Your eyes were set on your love though, even Lucifer couldn’t help but forget everything that was troubling him earlier when he saw you approach him

Cue all the brothers beginning to UGLY SOB.

You thought that was the end of it, oh honey….not even close.

Barbatos is the ordained minister, trust me it shocks everyone but he’s got the credentials.

He can’t stop glancing at the prince, who is visibly distressed by the situation.

Oh f...Did Barbatos just call Lucifer….Satan?

By the shocked look on everyone's face, except Satan who looks smug AF, he can confirm, yes….yes he did.

You bring the focus back with a light joke that makes your future husband lose the literal skulls in his eyes and get ‘em back to hearts.

Lucifer declares his love for you with gorgeously laid out vows about your journey together.

Something inside you noticeably snaps as you feel around for the little paper vows you swore you kept on you

That’s not it, nope not that either.

Oh no, you were starting to sweat and the silence was getting a bit awkward.

You panicked and asked for a few seconds, Barbatos tolerated that.

Everything would have been fine, but you hauled ass off the stage.

As if it wasn’t awkwardly silent enough…

Did...did you just leave Lucifer at the altar…? The brothers started to murmur.

You really did just run to find the vows, it was difficult to remember the words when staring in such a beautiful demons eyes.

As you returned, you couldn't tell whether you should stop what was happening or not.

It sure was a sight.

Diavolo, assumed you left for good, so he took his chance and stepped in and was mid-proposal to Lucifer.

You decided to watch it all play out.

The rest is history ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[the-witty-pen-name]

Fell in Love in Scotland Pt. 1

Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Warnings: angst; cursing; pining; 18+ in later parts (maybe? not sure yet) 

Summary: After finding about the new Captain America, the reader goes to Louisiana to visit Sam. 

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So I know this isn’t on my list of things I *should* be working on, but I had this idea today and I had to get it down! This is only going to be 2-3 parts. This is my first time writing for Sam!

I’m taking a small break from working on my other works in progress to focus on getting out as much Sam content as a can before Sam’s (and my) bday on the 14th! Not sure how much I’ll be able to write but that is my hope!

My biggest flex at the moment is sharing a bday with Sam. 

This references Civil War, Endgame and Infinity War events in flashbacks but you know, canon is a thing I like to just maneuver around so I’m sorry if there are many major inaccuracies!

This is unedited and please let me know if I missed anything that should be included as a warning. 

Taglist is in my bio 

You were furious. Without even thinking, you picked up your phone and found him in your contact list. You were fuming, needing to find out what happened so you could help him. You hadn’t talked to him since Tony Stark’s funeral, and you had found out through Banner that Steve had gifted him the shield. You psych yourself out every time you want to reach out and talk to him, but your rage blinded you and took the lead over your usual nervousness.

“What happened?” you ask as soon as the ringing on the other end stops and you know he’s answered. You have the phone balanced on your shoulder as your slipping on your shoes, ready to head out as soon as you can.

“(Y/N)?” he asks, sounding confused. Also, incredibly hurt and rightfully so. You imagined he was watching the same thing as you on television and you thought he’d be as equally mad.

“Sam,” you say, letting out a shaky breath. “The shield.”

There’s nothing but dead air for what feel like forever.

“I gave it up,” he finally answers. You can hear in his voice that there is much more to this than that.

“Are you in D.C.?” you ask, not wanting to push him to talk.

“Delacroix. You don’t have to come-.”

“Can’t come visit a friend?” you ask hopefully. You hear him sigh.

“It’s not a great time,” he says hesitantly.

“Isn’t that when you need friends the most?” you counter, trying to force a happier, more uplifting tone. You try, but you know you still sound miserable. “Please,” you ask again, almost a whisper.

“You’re coming no matter what I say, aren’t you?” he chuckles.

“Pretty much,” you admit, “but I would love it if you actually wanted to see me.”

“You know I would…”

“So that settles it,” you smile, blinking to hold back a couple tears. Your voice breaks just a little. “I’m getting on the first plane I can.”

Before he has a chance to change his mind, you end the call and immediately pack some necessities. You never got out of the habit of always being called off, so many of the things you needed were already packed away in a bag in your closet. It was a comforting thing for you. Like you always had the option to just leave wherever you were. You said it was because of all the times you got pulled away from life because of missions for SHIELD, but it ran a little deeper than that.

God, he’s handsome. That’s the only thing you can think of when you’re finally in front of him again. Your mind is at a complete blank. You should be able to muster up the ability to say something. He’s waiting for you at the airport. You didn’t expect this, but it is Sam. Of course, he was going to meet you when your plane landed. You try your best to clear up the haze in your brain as you walk towards him, and he pulls you into a tight hug.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he mumbles, resting his head on top of your head as you bury your face in his chest. All hopes you had at a cool, collected front when you saw him disappeared. You missed him too much and had gone too long without admitting it to yourself. Tell him you missed him, tell him you’re happy to see him, say anything…

“I want to help,” you say when you both break away. You inwardly cringe. You can’t vocalize anything except turning this into some mission.

“Please can we not talk about the shield?” he asks, and you realize you’ve clearly hit a sore spot. You nod in agreement, feeling terrible for having brought it up so soon. You didn’t want him to think you were prioritizing the shield over him. That wasn’t the case at all. You came here for him, to see him, why the hell couldn’t you act like it.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, earnestly. You had to pull yourself together.

“I appreciate that you are worried about me,” he says slinging an arm over your shoulder as you walk. It feels nice, effortless. “But I donated the shield and after that, it was out of my hands.”

You know he is leaving out a lot, and you know him well enough to know there’s a deeper issue. But, for now, you decide to table it. He tells you about his nephews, and he fills you in on how he’s been able to spend time with them, and it feels so beautifully normal. The world feels like it’s falling apart around you but there’s Sam, pulling you back in like he was always able to do.

“I missed you,” he admits, after there’s a lull in the conversation driving to the house. “I thought maybe I would’ve seen you at the compound, or something before you left after the funeral.”

“I didn’t really have the chance,” you try to gloss over. “I just- After Steve came and said goodbye, I couldn’t stay. It just hurt too much.”

“Steve told you?”

“Not exactly, just a very vague goodbye, but I was able to read between the lines. I knew he wasn’t coming back.”

“What did he say?”

“Just that he wanted to go back and fix things. If he couldn’t have done it here, he wanted a second chance. To get back the time lost. Save Bucky, find Nat, maybe visit Peggy… He just wasn’t ready to stop yet. There was no fight here left, so he went back chasing the ones he felt like he lost?”

He nods, just taking in the information. He tells you about seeing Steve when he came back, about how he got married. He tells you about how Steve gave him the shield, but he thought the right decision was to donate the shield to the Smithsonian. You don’t try to do anything else but listen, and try your best to understand. But hearing Sam not think he could take on the title was heartbreaking. You want to ask him if he regrets it, if he wants to get the shield back, but for now, you know it isn’t the right time. Just tell him you missed him too, please. You can’t do it. The words get stuck in the back of your throat. Why is this so hard?

“Remember when we met?” you ask, looking aimlessly out the window.

“You mean when you drop kicked me at an airport?” he asks with a laugh.

“No- I mean, yes that happened first technically,” you smile. “I was more so thinking about the first time we spoke after that.”

“You mean when you came with Steve to get us out of prison?” he asks, skeptically.

“The very time,” you grin.

“I’m pretty sure the only thing you said was stay low and keep out of my way, if I remember correctly,” he raised an eyebrow.

“No, no in the jet,” you clarify, “Before we went into hiding.”

You sat on the floor across from Sam, you had pulled your torso out of your tactical suit, and had the arms of it tied around your waist. The SHIELD t-shirt you wore underneath was covered in sweat and grime. You rested your head against the cold metal of the plane’s ship and your eyes wandered to Sam.

“Pararescue?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” he responds, looking over his equipment that Steve brought with you.

“SR,” you reply. “Well, was.”

“You were Special Reconnaissance?” he asks, and you nod.

“Three tours.”

“Is that why you changed sides?” He continues and you can’t help but smile.

“I guess you can look at it that way.”

“I’m Sam.”

“I know.”

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” he chuckles, crossing his arms, relaxing a bit more. You smirk.

“(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Sam. Sorry about beating your ass.”

“You got lucky, SR,” he scoffs, and you laugh.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Wilson,” you laugh.

“You’re lucky we’re on the same side now,” he jokes.

“Oh, I know,” you smile. You get up and head to the cockpit to join Steve.

“I told you that the two of you would hit it off,” he chuckles as you slide into the copilot seat.

“You bring me along just to set me up, Rogers?” you scoff. His cheeks redden a little.

“You know that’s not true…”

“Ugh, you’re just as bad as Natasha, Steve,” you roll your eyes.

“You have shared life experience.”

“He is gorgeous.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“Don’t even think about it Rogers,” you gasp.

Before you know it, Sam is pulling up to your Airbnb.

“Come by the house tomorrow,” he says, and you nod. “I want to bring you somewhere.”

“Yeah,” you agree, as you get out of the car. It was already late, and you denied Sam’s offer to get dinner. You were exhausted, and you were still in the clothes you were wearing when you left your apartment suddenly. You needed to shower, sleep, and then your visit with him would start. You also were nervous. You could tell he was a little disappointed when you declined his offer but he understood.

“We’ll get some beers and talk about the good old days tomorrow. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, rubbing the top of your hand reassuringly.

“Good old days?” you tease.

“We’ll talk about Scotland,” he grins, “The good parts.”

“The good parts,” you affirm. You try to think about what he means but you let yourself put it out of your brain for now. “I’ll be by first thing.”

“I am really glad you’re here,” he reiterates once more before you disappear into the small house. You don’t have the courage to admit you feel the same.

When you close the door behind you, you look out the curtain and watch as Sam drives away. Your mind runs rampant with just all the things on your mind. The shield. Sam. Being here with Sam. Having to talk about feelings and memories with Sam. Scotland. How you fell in love with Sam Wilson in Scotland.

You worry coming here was a mistake.  

Part Two

Taglist: 

@greeneyedblondie44 @witchybarb @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @sassy-kassaay​

[danyka-fendyr]

Absence of Good - 9

Chapter Nine: Legerdemain

Hello everyone! As promised, I am posting another chapter of Absence of Good within the same week! I know, I’m kind of stunned too. If it comforts anyone, this is completely unedited, so that’s still on brand for me. I’m really excited for where I’m going to take this series next. I have some ideas for what the plot conflict is going to be now that our two idiots are together, hehe. For now though, enjoy this mostly wholesome chapter (minus the murder, obviously).

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli @alwaysadreamingoptimist

AoG Taglist: @pancakefancake @prettyboyspenerrr @youreasnack @alioop3818 @newtslatte @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @andiebeaword @stalker83005

Wordcount: 3206

Warnings: Murder. Some gore. Generally disturbing themes. Mentions of abuse.

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.” ― Salvador Plascencia

You had been on this case for a week now, and it was starting to take a toll on you. Hotch had put you all on a plane about 5 minutes after your confession to Spencer, which at the time you hadn’t been worried about. Little did you know this would be the world’s longest-running case, and you had barely gotten 5 minutes with Spencer.

This was one of those rare times where splitting you and Spencer up was pretty much unavoidable. They needed his brain at headquarters to track this guy and they needed your body out in the field to catch the guy. You and Emily had been teaming up a lot, and while you had learned a lot from her, she was no Dr. Reid.

You missed him. You didn’t realize how much time you had been spending with him until the most you got was a quick, “Hi, how are you?” as you handed him coffee. He had been throwing himself at the books, forgetting to do basic things like eat and drink, so you tried to remember for him when you could. You were all at the end of your rope with this guy.

This unsub, whoever he was, just so happened to be extremely clever. You could only imagine how high his kill rate was, as you were sure this was not where he had started. No, the precision this guy worked with was almost a thing of beauty, if it hadn’t made you want to vomit. Apparently, eyelids were very hard to sew together, but this guy, he was pretty damn good at it.

You climbed up the hill, thighs burning as you approached the top, boots digging into the soft dewy ground. The sun had only just started rising about an hour ago, and you felt your eyelids weigh almost as heavy as your limbs. Emily was right behind you, the ragged pace of her breathing matching yours.

When you reached the top of the hill you couldn’t say you were greeted by your favorite sight.

“Oh. Well that’s just lovely,” you huffed out.

“It’s certainly new.” Emily was turning a little green around the gills.

Evidently, your man had gotten bored of just sewing people’s eyelids shut. This guy had his eyes sewed shut, sure, but he was also cut in half. So that was fun.

“Do you see the dove?” You started scanning for it, knowing it would be present somewhere on the crime scene.

Emily found it first, lying a few feet away from your victim. She bent down to closer inspect the plastic bird, looking for any sign that the killer might have left behind a message or a fingerprint. No such luck.

“Okay, well we know this had to be time consuming, right?” You said.

“To sever a man’s spine? Yeah. That’s no easy task.”

“He’s escalating. Showing off. He’s laughing at us,” you mumbled, leaning over the body.

“I think he’s earned the right to. 5 kills in one week? That’s…”

“Not good.”

“I was going to say scary, but that works too.” Emily grimaced.

“Want to head back to the station? I don’t think we can gather much more from here. We’re better off waiting for the M.E.’s report.”

“Hmm…Sure you don’t have any other reason for wanting to go back to the station?”

“Like what,” you said airily.

“Really?” she said. “You don’t think I’ve noticed you’ve been missing your usual partner? It’s okay, honest. You’re not hurting my feelings any.”

You laughed a little bit, relieved that she had either not caught on to anything or had chosen to keep it to herself if she had.

“Hey, I think you make for fine company. That being said, someone has to watch Spencer. He’s losing his mind right now.”

“Yeah. Hotch had to stop him from throwing a book across the room yesterday.”

“Wait, really?”

“Our resident genius is coming a little unhinged.”

You sighed, beginning the descent down the hill.

“I’m worried about him,” you confessed.

“We all are. He’s taking these deaths too personally. I think he feels like it’s his responsibility to figure this guy out, like he’s the genius and he’s not doing his job or something.”

“He puts too much pressure on himself.”

“You can say that again.” Emily rolled her eyes, but her face quickly settled back into a worried frown. “He always has. This case is just difficult. No pattern with the victims, no obvious clues, and no clear connection between eyes, doves, and now being split in two. It’s just a little mystifying.”

You nodded, climbing into the passenger side of the car. Emily liked to drive, and you usually fell asleep in cars, so in that sense at least you were the perfect duo. You laughed at the thought that Hotch would have paired you up for that alone.

“Maybe something about this will make sense to Reid. Maybe this is the piece we’re missing,” you said.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Emily does not sound hopeful.

 As soon as you got to the station you were making a beeline for the coffee machine. It was quite literally the only thing you could think about right now. Selfishly, you got your own coffee first, taking a couple of sips to get your brain and heart working in proper order. You definitely hadn’t been this dependent on coffee before you started this job.

Once you felt like you could be reasonably mistaken for a human being again, you made another cup of coffee, dumping a few cups of sugar in. Just how he liked it. You smiled to yourself, probably looking a little crazy. You had known how Spencer liked his coffee forever, but it just felt different now, more intimate somehow. Stupid human brain with its stupid human hormones.

Spencer was alone amidst an entire library’s worth of books. He was sitting surrounded by them on the floor, some of them stacked up around him, built up like a little castle. You tip-toed your way through the maze, heading towards the oblivious genius who clearly had his defenses and his drawbridge (the meager path you had carved for yourself) down.

“Spence.” Your voice was a soft echo in the room.

He jumped, turning around bewildered and bleary. You took in the site of him, the circles under his eyes that were moats of purple and the way his hands twitched like they were trying to turn a page or hold a shield he had misplaced. Gently, you smoothed out a stray piece of hair that was falling into his eyes.

“Brought you coffee,” you offered, shuffling around a few books to settle down on the floor next to him.

He relaxed, reaching out to take the cup.

“Find anything?” you asked.

“Nope. What about you? Hotch told me there was a new body this morning.”

“Yeah. This guy was chopped in half. We’re waiting on the M.E.’s report. Other than that, nothing new except for me almost losing my breakfast. Not cute.”

“I think you would have been very cute projectile vomiting over a corpse.” He grinned at you.

“Is that what you tell all the girls Dr. Reid?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No. Just you.”

“Hmmm…” You squinted at him playfully. “Then what do the other girls get that I’m missing out on?”

“What if I said there are no other girls?” He raised an eyebrow, but a hint of seriousness crept into his voice.

“Then I would say you’re a liar,” you whispered, leaning forward until your face was dangerously close to his.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, voice low, eyes lower as they traveled well below your own.

“Oh, do magic tricks for me like one of your French girls, Spencer!” You feigned a swoon, one palm falling back onto a red leather-bound book to support you, the spine digging into the heel of your hand.

“Well, I could. Or I could return your hair tie.”

You glanced down at your free wrist, alarmed to find it hair tie free.

“How did you?”

He just smiled charmingly, pulling it out from behind your ear.

“I can think of other things you could do that with,” you suggested, waggling your eyebrows. “But seriously, how?”

“A magician never tells his secrets.”

“Yeah, well I wish they would start.” You soured again, thinking back to the case. “I would love to know how this guy sawed his latest victim in half.”

Spencer sat up rigid, eyes going blank as he thought faster than you could ever hope to process.

“Spence?”

“We need to get that M.E.’s report right now,” he said, standing and leading a one-man charge out of the hardbound, softcover castle he had built.

You followed behind him, scrambling to keep up. Unsurprisingly, you two ended up at the M.E.’s, who was mid-examination.

“Was the victim sawed in half?” Spencer said, not bothering with any niceties.

“He’s Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI,” you clarified, confused where he was going with this.

“Umm…” The medical examiner looked a little bewildered but answered the question anyway. “As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure this was the work of a saw. Not an electrical one either. Very unusual. Probably took him a very long time to do.”

Reid spun around, heading right back to his books, leaving you to helplessly follow after tossing a hasty goodbye to the poor M.E.

“Spence, what is all of this about?” You asked once you had wended your way back to where you started.

“Don’t you see?” He asked, a slightly insane light to his eyes. “It all makes sense now. The dove, the saw, even the eyes. It all connects!”

“Spence, I think you need to maybe go lie down for a little bit.” You reached for something he could eat, spotting a box of donuts left half-empty on a table in the office space he had appropriated. “Why don’t you have a piece of bread and maybe you’ll calm down.”

“No, look,” he said, finding the crime scene photos amongst the shuffle of information he had acquired. “What do all of these things mean put together? How saws people in half? Who uses doves as part of their show?”

Finally, it clicked.

“Magicians,” you breathed, Spencer’s energy suddenly becoming contagious.

“Magicians!” He crowed. “Even the eyes make sense. It’s a taunt. ‘Now you see me, now you don’t.’”

“Because he always disappears!”

“Exactly!” Spencer pointed at you triumphantly.

“Okay. Now we just have to find a magician with a bone to pick,” You said, deflating slightly. “How hard could that be in a city of a couple hundred thousand?”

“Better go tell Garcia to start checking Fort Wayne’s yellow pages.”

“Yeah.”

 As it turned out, it was apparently not that hard to find a magician with a grudge. For some reason, there were several in this city. However, only a few had the migratory pattern of your culprit, who had been clever enough to cross state lines. He had been playing a long, subtle game before he started to toy with you, but the eyes had always been the same, a very unique touch of his.

“Okay team,” Garcia said, bubbly as ever. “We have learned two things today. One, our guy is probably Larry Harlborrow, A.K.A. Axel Ranger, traveling magician who just so happens to have stopped by all of our unsub’s previous places of residence and stuck around for a while. Two, never trust a magician.”

“Hey!” Reid interjected.

“Never trust a magician whose name is not Spencer Reid,” Garcia amended over the phone.

“Better. Carry on.”

“Anyway, it looks like our guy’s stressor was a messy divorce with his wife. Apparently, the magic business didn’t make him a very good bread winner, and the multiple charges of domestic abuse weren’t exactly a winning point for him either. I suspect it was the latter though that caused her to leave him, taking sole custody of the kids and getting a very neat, tidy restraining order put up against him. More power to her, but that’s where we come to our trigger and coincidentally where our timeline of murder starts. But hey, I’m sure there’s no connection there, right?”

“Address?” Morgan asked.

“Oh, you know I’ve already sent it to your cell, sexy,” Garcia purred.

“Alright, well as grateful as we all are, I think it’s time to hang up while this call can still be called PG-13,” JJ said.

“Good luck my darlings!”

“Thanks baby girl.”

Thankfully for you, it was just a simple snatch and grab, and it was about time you had one. He was at home, so confident in his own skill he didn’t have the slightest inkling you would be interrupting his afternoon. Classic narcissist. The homicide was a fun twist, but you couldn’t call it original.

Morgan kicked down his front door and you burst through to where he was, disgustingly, in the middle of sawing in half another victim. His entire living room was coated in plastic sheets, the kind you draped over furniture if you were painting. You couldn’t say you liked the way blood red matched the rest of his décor.

“Hands in the air!” You shouted, aiming your gun.

For a moment he paused, saw still in his blood covered hands, victim well and truly dead before him. You couldn’t believe he was actually considering not giving himself up.

“Piece of advice? Don’t bring a saw to a gunfight,” Emily warned.

That seemed to be enough to snap him out of it, and slowly, he raised his hands in the air. You cuffed him, trying not to look at the body so close to you.

“Try slipping your way out of this one Houdini,” you growled before starting on his Miranda rights.

After safely stowing your mad magician into the back of a cop car, you made your way back to the station to pack up and get ready to go home. It had been a very, very long week. All you wanted was a shower and your soft, warm bed.

You fell asleep almost immediately getting into the jet, your head resting on Reid’s shoulder. You didn’t even care that the rest of the team was watching. This was innocent anyway, and they were all far too tired to care.

When you touched down, you were still so blurry you weren’t sure you could be trusted behind a wheel. Thankfully for you, Spencer noticed.

“I’ll drive Y/L/N home. I still have enough coffee in me for that I think,” he said.

“Okay. I’ve got Emily,” JJ said, supporting her equally sleeping friend.

Spencer bundled you into the car and once again, you were dead to the world for a while, until he was waking you up again to lead you into your apartment.

“Will you stay?” you asked, lazily fumbling for your keys and allowing him to open the door for you.

“Of course,” he said, tucking you under one arm and guiding you inside.

“That was such a long case,” you groaned, stretching out your limbs.

He nodded, setting his satchel down in your doorway.

“Yeah.” A beat. “I missed you.”

You felt everything in you soften at those words, a gasp of relief that it wasn’t just you who had been feeling like this.

“I missed you too. So much.”

He crossed the distance between the two of you in your tiny apartment, wrapping you up in his arms, and you breathed the scent of him in. There was something deeply comforting about this, about the soft material of his sweater and the tickle of his hair brushing against your nose. It was starting to get long again.

“You need a haircut.” Your voice was muffled by his shoulder.

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You don’t like it how it is now.”

“No, I do.” You reached up to play with the longer strands in the back. “Actually, I think you should keep it this way. If you change anything you might get sexier, and then I’ll never be able to focus on cases.”

“Hmm, maybe I will cut it then.”

“No,” you whined.

“I think you need to go to bed.”

He combed a hand through your hair and you sighed blissfully.

“Are you offering to take me to bed Dr. Reid?”

“Something like that,” he said, scooping you off of your feet.

You let out a surprised squeak, wrapping your arms around his neck. The alarmed beating of your heart woke you up a little bit more, enough so that your brain could process the full implications of the fact that Spencer could pick you up with ease. You filed that information away in your brain for future use.

You let him settle you down gently onto the mattress but refused to untwine your arms from where they rested. He tried to move away, but you stopped him.

“One kiss.” A soft, tired plea.

He hadn’t kissed you in a week, and you were starting to forget the way it felt. You never wanted to forget that, the absolute rush of it. Little did he know you had been obsessing over it, pining after him the entire time you had been on this case. You could still focus on your work, but you had always had him in the back of your mind somewhere, holding you, kissing you, making snarky commentary. At some point, Spencer had become an integral part of your life. Without him something important seemed to be missing in a way you couldn’t explain.

“One kiss,” he agreed, leaning down to brush his lips softly against yours.

A shuddery little sigh unwound in your lungs, fluttering out of your mouth to meet his, and in response he deepened the kiss. One hand cupped your face while the other buried itself in your hair, and you loosened your grip on his neck so that your fingers could trace his face. They danced across his features as his lips danced against yours.

You loved the way he kissed. Every time he did it, it was with his whole body. Like it was the only thing he was thinking about, like it was the only thing he would ever think about. The way he curved into you, the furrow of his brow that you traced with the tip of your finger. You almost wanted to open your eyes, to immortalize this moment, but you couldn’t. You were too absorbed by the feel of him.

All of the effort, the concentration that Spence put into his kisses paid off. He was absurdly good at it, stealing your breath away, making you forget that there was anything else in the universe. The flick of his tongue against your lower lip was positively indecent, and you arced into him, pulling him closer.

Disappointingly, he pulled away, breathing hard. You realized you were doing the same, having forgotten about paltry things like breathing while he was kissing you. He walked around to the other side of the bed, toeing his shoes off and coming to lay down beside you.

Gently, he laid a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“if only these treasures were not so fragile as they are precious and beautiful.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

[kidgetrash]

For that fluff prompt thing, I’ll offer 3 (Cuz kidge would be perfect with them) but you don’t have to do all of them 😂 -full hearted laugh -playing tabletop games -height difference

Thank you both for the prompts!  So two for height difference, and I added in the full hearted laugh and tabletop games too!  I wanted to make it D&D/Monsters and Mana, but I couldn’t figure out how to get them to do so alone!  So this is what you got!  It’s completely unedited, it’s almost midnight, I’m in a lot of pain, so I hope it makes sense and that I didn’t make too many typos!  Enjoy!

Monopolising My Heart

‘two, three, four…jeez.  Five.’

‘Hah!’  Pidge pointed at Keith across the table from her.  ‘That’s mine!  And two hotels!  Show me the money, Kogane!’

Keith watched as she threw her head back, laughing so hard he thought she might fall out of her chair, but she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  She put her whole body into it, clutching at her stomach as she clenched her property card in her hand, holding it aloft victoriously.  He waited until she calmed down somewhat, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, glasses pushed up on her forehead, then started counting out his money.  ‘You know, Monopoly is less fun with only two people.’

‘Not my fault Lance had to go to the infirmary after training.’  She quirked him an eyebrow that made him purse his lips.

‘I told you, I didn’t do it on purpose.’  Keith screwed his nose up at the memory of Lance’s nose blossoming with blood following a misplaced elbow.  His misplaced elbow.

‘Eh, no one would blame you if you did.  He was being an ass.’  She shrugged, reaching for his money but he snatched it out of reach.  ‘Hey, you owe me!’

‘I’ll do you a deal.’  Keith smirked as an idea hit him.  ‘If you can reach it, you can have it.’

‘That’s not in the rules!’  Pidge leant over the table as Keith raised the money over his head.

‘It is now.’

‘Gimme!’  Pidge rushed around to his side of the table but he had already stood up, arm still in the air, but that didn’t deter her.  ‘You think that’ll stop me?’  Grabbing hold of his collar, Pidge tried to pull him down but he was easily able to resist.

‘Problem, short stack?’  He grinned as she tried, and failed, to pull his arm down.

‘Shut up, lanky, there is absolutely no reason for you to need to be this tall!’

Keith laughed at her frustrated expression, did her adorableness know no bounds?  ‘What about when you can’t reach the cookies on the top shelf?  You’re all for abusing my height then.’  He turned just slightly out of her reach.

‘I could get those cookies if I wanted to!’  She pushed her foot off the bench he had been sitting on and dragged herself up, wrapping her legs around his torso as she clung onto his bicep.

Keith tried desperately not to show that he was slowly losing to her, not only physically but emotionally, not to mention how her body was pressed so close to his.  That thought alone made him swallow and question how good his self-control.  Pulling herself up further, Keith’s mouth went dry as her chest drew to eye level and he quickly switched the money to his other hand, hoping she would get down.  She didn’t.

Pidge shoved her foot into Keith’s side and launched herself towards his other hand, which threw him off balance.  Stumbling back, Keith fell onto the bench seat with Pidge straddling his chest.  It was only a moment later that she threw herself forward and snatched the money out of his hand.

‘Yes!  I win!’  Pidge laughed as she rocked back to sitting position with both arms raised in victory.  It was only when she looked down and found Keith below her, his cheeks flushed, and in perhaps the most compromising position she had ever found herself in.  ‘Uh, I’m just going to take my winnings and get up now.’  She tried to scramble back and off him but he caught her around the waist and pulled her back until she was flush against him.

‘I’m going to need some kind of receipt for that.’  He said in a low tone that had Pidge swallow hard.

‘You just don’t want to admit that you’re going broke and I won the game.’  She replied, her voice equally as hushed.

‘I’ll take lip service.’  The words were out of Keith’s mouth before he realised and his eyes went wide.

‘You…you would?’  Pidge asked uncertainly, wondering if this was really happening of if she was completely misreading this entire situation.

‘Yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind, that is.’  He half shrugged, wondering if he had slipped up somehow, but was delighted by her reply.

‘I don’t mind, not really at all.  In the slightest.’  Bowing her head she kissed him, planning it to be a simple peck, but the moment their lips touched it was like some switch was thrown inside each of them.  It lasted much longer than either anticipated, their lips caressing one another with gentle movements that had them both tingling.  As the separated Pidge let out a little shuddering sigh as her eyes blinked open and looked down into Keith’s lilac ones.  ‘Is that, uh, receipt sufficient?’  She whispered, thinking perhaps this was just some dare as part of the game that neither of them had planned on.

Keith cleared his throat.  ‘For a receipt, sure.  But I think I need some change.’

Pidge looked at him for a moment before deciding just to go ahead and clarify.  ‘Like literally or you want another kiss?’

‘I wouldn’t say no.  And honestly, this is better than winning Monopoly.’

Pidge laughed.  ‘How would you know, you always lose!’

Keith decided not to answer with words and instead pulled her down to claim her lips again with his own.  Pidge melted into the kiss, the game all but forgotten, the Monopoly money slipping from her fingers as she found a whole new meaning to the phrase the winner takes it all.

[abkdkzine]

A Guide to Making Portfolios

Contributor applications are open, but I noticed that there’s a few people who may be confused or don’t know what certain parts of our guidelines mean. So, here’s a simple guide showing how to make a neat portfolio that obeys our instructions and requirements!

(I kind of refrained from making a bunch of lighthearted jokes or comments though, so I might’ve missed my chance on showing just how dorky I can get, haha!)

I’ll be covering both art portfolios and writing portfolios in this guide, but I also hope this helps out anyone who might need this sort of information in the future because this information doesn’t apply to just our zine! With that said, I’ll start with the very basics: getting to know cloud storage and sharing services, or in this case, Google!

Technically speaking, portfolios are basically any and all of the platforms you post your content into (like Tumblr, Instagram, DeviantArt, etc.). But, when you’re applying for something that requires you to show your works in a professional manner (such as in fanzines or IRL jobs), knowing how to organise your works can help you out in the long run!

Google is such a versatile platform which allows everyone to have access to all (if not almost all) of their organisational and work-related products! As such, if you have a Gmail account, you should also have this wonderful privilege. One of their products, Google Drive, lets you store your files and organise them any way you want them! There’s a little box icon on the top right of the browser which will reveal all of the products you can use too, so if you don’t know what they are, it’s a good idea to explore a bit on your own time. 

Through Google Drive, you’ll be creating a folder which will serve as the place your files will be uploaded into. Keep in mind though that Google is not the only platform that offers cloud services! Dropbox is an example of another popular platform among others.

In this example, I’ll be referring to our zine’s contributor applications. Make a new folder in your Google Drive by clicking on that big ol’ “New” button, and use that button again to upload 3-8 of your works for our zine’s applications. Or, drag and drop files. It’s surprisingly fun to do and watch!

Be sure that your folder’s privacy settings is open! Just activate the folder’s shareable link (as in anyone with the link can have access to it), and it’ll let us look at all of your examples without trouble!

But, why do you want us to do this, you might ask?

Like I mentioned earlier, knowing how to organise your things helps you out in the long run! But in our case, if an applicant chooses to send us a form with a portfolio that doesn’t quite follow our requirements (such as putting an entire gallery or website with all their works)... 

Well, it’s going to be an inconvenience to the moderators because there are going to be a lot of applications to go through within a limited time frame. We simply won’t have the time to look for your best works in a portfolio showcasing all of your pieces. We set a maximum limit of 8 examples for portfolios for that reason!

Any added works will not be considered in the examples, and any applications with galleries or websites sent to us as their portfolios will have a VERY low chance of being considered at all.

Instead, make that neat little folder shown previously and individually add the files you want to share! It won’t take up a lot of your time, I promise. That way, you can make sure you’ve chosen your most quality works, and we can review your application in a timely manner! This method is the most preferred way for us to receive portfolios.

Writers, if you are unfamiliar with Google Drive, this process can apply to you as well. Make a new folder, label it appropriately, and upload your files! Word documents can be transferred instantly, so fear not for your formatting – you’re in good hands. However, if you are concerned about it, I suggest that you take a look at Google Docs. You can copy and paste your works there instead, either all three written examples in one document or three separate documents in the folder. 

Realistically, not following the rules sets a bad impression on the people reviewing your portfolio. We want to see your best work, and we want you to feel confident in your examples! If you show us that you can’t follow simple and easy tasks such as organising your works, then we’ll get the impression that you’ll do the same elsewhere. Regard this as though you are preparing for an actual job interview because this helps with your reputation as well.

So, what can I do to ensure my chances to be considered?

This is a section that is more for art than it is for writings; but here’s a general consensus for what kind of submissions or examples are expected and what is not expected!

A bad portfolio consists of little variety among the shown examples. If your examples are mostly made of your subjects in several different angles, that’s alright, but if there’s a lack of principles of art (such as rhythm, movement, proportion, variety, etc.) then the portfolio wouldn’t really be very interesting to the judges. Sketches, while some look nice, aren’t good examples because zines require complete pieces!

For written stories, the worst possible examples out of so much more that you can present in a portfolio are: bad understanding of characterisation (out-of-character factor), mediocre understanding of grammar (or unedited versions), and uninteresting.

A good portfolio shows a clear understanding of the elements and principles of art. There’s variety among the pieces which shows creativity and thought. Properties like different colour schemes, addition of environments, angles, and etc. are things that make portfolios interesting to look at.

For writing, having a good grasp of grammar, understanding of characters, and personal style are good indicators that your writing is well done and given some thought! In other words, it allows the readers to feel engaged with, which in turn makes it more interesting.

But, most of all:

Your pieces have to be related to the zine’s theme! It’s different for every zine, of course, but generally, application reviewers look to see if the applicant is genuine about liking the concept(s) behind their projects, and that the applicant can portray or illustrate the subjects of the zine well with the skills presented among the examples.

Wanderlust revolves exclusively around BakuDeku, and so, seeing examples with both of them featured in your works will guarantee you, one-hundred percent, a spot for consideration.

Sounds good to me! But, can you clarify what to avoid?

As previously suggested, guidelines are made to make sure the reviewing process goes as smoothly as possible for the moderators or judges. I’ll be using our own guidelines for this example as well!

Since many zines like to request for a number of linked examples in their forms for their portfolios, we understand that it might be a force of habit or something that some people may consider easy to do. But, I’ll say this once again: we require prospective contributors to create their portfolios through a shared folder (lots of cloud services exist!) because it saves us, the moderators, a lot of time from copying and pasting every single link!

When you show us your social media links, don’t do it like this:

Tumblr: @ariririsu

Twitter: @ariririsu 

Give us the actual links to your platforms! This also saves us a lot of time instead of typing it down. We would be ever so grateful and happy if you do this.

Keep your examples up to date! We don’t want to see what you could do back then. We want to see what you can offer us now. It’s like selling a bunch of pastries at a bake sale, but you’re selling us pastries made two years ago. Your most recent works gives us the most accurate and best representation of your skills.

Once again, incomplete sketches or written drafts are no-no’s. If you want to know what I’m talking about when I mentioned the principles and elements of art, here’s a neat little roster that breaks down what makes compositions in artworks more three-dimensional and interesting.

Going over the specified number of examples will not affect your chances of being accepted in the zine. So, if you add two or three more works in your portfolio, rest assured that we will not even look at them. For the same reason I mentioned beforehand: there is going to be a lot of applicants, and we want to get the reviewing process done as soon as possible to maintain our schedule. Less mess, less stress.

Some Pieces of Advice:

Have some confidence in your works! If you feel super shy and you’re still building up that confidence, the judges would be more than happy to supply you with feedback if you ask for it. Their feedback will not be destructive, but it will be meant to help you improve your skills. Take whatever advice they give you and at least put them into consideration too!

Zines and other huge projects like these take a lot of your time. One thing that I’ve seen people commonly do is that they miscalculate the amount of time and commitment they can put into these projects, and they often have to leave them. Doing so will negatively affect your reputation. So, when you’re not sure if you can dedicate a lot of time to the zine, we highly suggest that you don’t apply to keep the game fair to others who want to be in the zine as well.

Communication is VERY important in these projects. Never ever disappear on the projects without saying something because it’s going to cause the moderators to have to find ways to contact you and be very worried if something happened to cause the sudden disappearance. Like the previous point, doing so will negatively affect your reputation.

Just so you know, you’ve got time to make your portfolios if you don’t have enough examples! You can literally apply at the last minute and it would still count!

Again, be sure that your Google Drive folder’s settings are shared to those who has the link!

And with that, I hope I was able to make a nice guide which emphasises certain rules in our own zine guidelines as well as how to make a good portfolio! I’m not sure if there are other guides like these around, but I hope I got a bunch of general zine rules correct.

We look forward to seeing your applications! Our zine applications close on January 12, and we can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!

[chaosintheavenue]

Writing Snippets and Notes

Oookay, since a handful of people wanted to see them, behold some  unchronological, unedited, unpolished, contextless little fragments of my Van Buren storyline writings (so, Tibbs stuff rather than JJ stuff). Many won’t make much sense, and some don’t strictly hold to design document canon. Also, most of these are old!

If- If someone stumbles across this who knows about VB stuff, in particular the characters I’ve adopted- please ignore what I’ve done to them gfdnhgf. Also, don’t judge the way I talk to myself whilst writing notes...

Prolonged textual mess below the cut, organised into segments for your convenience:

Boulder Dome

-

Even later, Mr G pops in to check on his recovery, Xian has had to reluctantly go off to work so he's resting alone G: [walks in with hands behind his back in an authority-esque pose] How do you feel, Nathan? T: [sounding clearly under influence of chems] Better than I look. Survived worse. <Lie> G: Good. I hope to see you back on your feet soon. [slowly raises a holodisk case from behind his back] Especially since these are completely incompatible with our hardware. T: Oh, fuck me... [facepalms]

(note: the phrase ‘fuck me’ here is of an identical tone and meaning to ‘fuck my life’. I’m unsure whether it’s a Britishism or not to use the phrase in that specific way, so thought I’d better clarify in case!)

-

The scientists gettin' infected in the first place It's two months after they arrived at the Dome. Presper has left an order for the group to explore and log the purposes and notable contents of every room in the Dome- he believes that said group contains Hunter and Brigitte, and lacks Goddard They come to one lab, the door is jammed shut, Paul rams it with his shoulder repeatedly and it eventually opens A cabinet crashes to the floor and some of its contents shatter The original Dome scientists (now a pair of skellies on the floor) used the cabinet to barricade the door in fear once they became aware of the War, unfortunately this is an infectious diseases lab and that bad boy contained Limit 115 samples Anyways, back to the present day, all scientists wander in and start taking inventory, Goddard spots biohazard tape sealing the top of a smashed vial and kneels down to inspect it further, facial expression shifts as he does so "Out..." so horrified he's almost speechless, some people look up but none leave Gets his voice back, "Everyone out!"

-

Tibbs has wandered into Nina's tank room whilst looking around in late 2258 or early 2259, G is in there making note of her vitals as part of his perimeter walk Tibbs has already 'met' her, but today looks at her properly, thinking about Xian's retelling of what happened to her, overall horrified by the whole prospect of her popsicle-isation T: Can I ask you something? G 'mmm's, seeming distracted T: (points to the tank) Is she... alive or dead? G: (thinks for a second) Both, and neither. Nina here is being maintained in a state of suspended animation (leans head back)... from which she will never wake

-

They're in the main lab messin' with samples, at one point X tells T to agitate a sample and he jokingly goes 'you wanna take this outside' and taunts it whilst tapping the tube

-

Xian is typing on her terminal in her lab, Tibbs is sitting on another computer chair just chilling The minimal lighting suddenly cuts out into a complete blackout. Xian makes a visceral noise of fear in her throat, and we hear clattering of chairs. Tibbs: You're okay! (startled by how startled she is, he just thinks she's scared of the dark though) We then hear the low 'boop' of a Pip-Boy light being turned on, and Tibbs's face becomes illuminated. He's now standing next to Xian's chair with a hand on her shoulder, and she is crunched up in fear Xian: The- the doors- they'll eat us- Tibbs: (tone more serious, realising she might be right) Get under the desk (he steps forward towards the door, gun clicks)

-

‘Hoover Dam’ (AKA Freeside)

-

The 'Hoover Dam' caravan espionage quest from VB Tibbs is hanging around in the Freeside area not long after being decked by Mr McBride, but before he catches up with the dastardly duo for good (hence him hanging around in the general vicinity). Alex is on the trail of said delightsome duo, Battery's gamblin' as one does in Vegas- until he, um, gets thrown out of every casino for counting cards, that is- and since T is now barred from the Strip for fighting and needs to recover from what was one mighty concussion before he's in any fit state to hit the road with Alex, he's spending his days alone without a whole lot to do with himself. He approaches 3-Some Caravan and offers to help with packing and unloading in exchange for some sweet caps and the Giordano triplets informing their caravans to look out for people matching certain descriptions. During these few days he gets chatting to the brothers and they discover that all four have been imprisoned by the NCR for theft. They chat more about their experiences and bond to the point where they trust Tibbsy enough to suggest a plan to spy on the Crimson Caravan outpost nearby. He tells them he's already asked for work there the day before and was turned away due to them having seen him working with 3-Some, and the fake falling out plan is hatched and developed over an evening Tibbs approaches the 3-Some outpost (in the same position as NV's Crimson Caravan if that's lore-friendly at all) the next morning asking firmly but civil-ly to be paid, and the brothers refuse to pay him. The argument is carefully scripted to make it clear that Tibbs is not a bad worker or otherwise undesirable, and that the brothers are simply unwilling to pay for his labour because of course they're just so dodgy. Things get louder and louder until they escalate so much that Carlo apparently punches Tibbs in the face, and the triplets then threaten to shoot him if he returns He staggers over to a Crimson guard who was clearly watching and expresses his anger and pain, lifts the part of his mask over his cheekbone down a little and asks her to check if he's bleeding, he isn't but does have one heck of a bruise there She fortunately doesn't have a high enough Perception skill to notice that the bruise is fully established and starting to yellow (so, very clearly not fresh), and asks him if he'd be willing to continue working in the caravan industry after that drama, trying to assure him that not all of them are crooks etc, she knows a position just begging to be filled by someone just like him- hoping to get juicy deets about 3-Some from him * the punch was, of course, actually staged, with Carlo (tactically hidden from view behind the half-closed front gate) punching his hand and Tibbs throwing himself into the area visible between the gates and falling to the floor holding his pre-bruised cheek (conveniently hidden by his mask)

-

Random interactions

-

ARGOS kindly interrupts the moment by barking 'CIVILIAN, STEP AWAY FROM PRISONER THIRTEEN', Xian flinches away a little but then is frozen staring at ARGOS, Tibbs diffuses with a laughing 'I think you better do what he says, Xian', she slowly steps back away from him, he quickly says his goodbyes then walks down the main road towards ARGOS.

-

Wait, I Know You Set when Ty and Tibbs are walkin' to the desalination plant They both feel like the other is vaguely familiar but can't remember where from Ty asks Tibbs where he got his jumpsuit and if he knows where it's from, Tibbs just vaguely skirts around the issue and says that he knows what the jumpsuit is Ty then outrights asks if Tibbs scavenged it or has done time, Tibbs gets slightly defensive and is half-jokingly like 'what are you, a Ranger?' (that question in itself is suspicious, Rangers only dealt with his case because he was stealing from a military base in the first place- hey, triple rhyme!) "Was once." Tibbs goes o_O, "For real?" "Yup. 7th Battalion." They both slowly twig where they've seen the other before but neither explicitly says it, they just start chatting with the implicit mutual understanding

-

Tibbs was about to enter the trees and heard her yelling keep away, she comes running out pretty much into his arms, he tries to comfort her and asking where the hell she was, people are looking everywhere for her, she needs to stop running away, etc etc JJ is just stood there like O_O, it's you, he's pretty starstruck, slowly walking closer the whole time As he approaches he notices that Tibbs looks to have aged more than he should and overall doesn't seem to be in a good mood, just looks exhausted and frustrated, but it's still unmistakably him Tibbs gives JJ a simple 'thanks, kid', voice sounds just as tired as his face looks- then suddenly sticks out a hand in a 'stop' motion, '...whoa, that's close enough'

-

Bonus- AU in which Tibbs returns from space and crash-lands in a very unfamiliar new land

-

Bri finding Tibbs He's wandered for a bit, had some daufad fun, ended up tripping over a thin yet surprisingly deep stream concealed by long grass (*cough* totally not based on myself having the exact same experience in the hills he’s landed in *cough*) which exacerbated his leg injury to the point he can't stand up, he barely has any chems after fighting the robobrains on the satellite because he quite frankly never expected to come home, uses one Stimpak and half a dose of Med-X but it isn't enough, drags himself along a bit Lying there on the damp grass, feels frost in the air Sees a woman with long flame-red hair approaching just a little too gracefully to really be out in these foggy, freezing hills, his mind leaps to it being the spirit of Grace here to finish the job she set out to start, slightly amused that she really did track him to the ends of the earth and beyond She hops across the stream without hesitation, clearly familiar with precisely where to expect it As she continues to get closer he realises that the face is too round, the cheeks too flushed, the hair somehow even redder than he remembers, and she definitely isn't tall enough If this isn't Grace, then who is it?! She keeps walking without speaking until she's right next to him to make sure he's not an enemy or Feral Ghoul, mirror Tibbs discovering Xian for the first time She looks down at him puzzled Tibbs: "Hello?" She laughs somewhat awkwardly, offers a chirpy 'Hello!' back in a peculiar accent. She points to him, then points up, "You, in the skee," motion of something falling from the sky with whistling effect, slams into her other hand with a smash sound effect He nods, groans "Yeah, that was me..."

[boomboomboomwayhoo]

she was a bitch ~ zach herron

“zach, come look at this,” you called out for him from the other side of the men’s section of forever 21. 

“hmm?” he questioned once he returned to your side. he had originally never wanted to come to forever 21 but he agreed once he saw how excited you were to go. however, he wasn’t expecting this shopping trip to be for him. 

“i think you’d look really good in this,” you told him, lifting the pink t shirt that looked almost bleached up off of the counter to hold it up to him. 

“really?” he raised an eyebrow at you, taking the shirt into his own hands to get a better look at it. “i don’t know, baby,” he sighed, reaching to put the shirt back on the table only for you to stop him. 

“cmon, please just try it on!” you begged, pulling out your puppy dog eyes which you knew always worked on him. 

“take me to the dressing room,” he sighed once again, holding out his hand so that you could drag him to the back corner of the store where the dressing rooms were. he had faked an angry expression to keep up with the act that he didn’t want to be here but the second you turned around he let the smile explode on his face. he loved how you always got so excited over the smallest things, so much he couldn’t help but smile. 

“how many?” the woman who stood outside of the dressing rooms asked you and zach once you arrived. you saw her eyes wonder up and down zach’s body as a small smirk creeped on his face, however he failed to notice it from the fact that he was counting the items that you had shoved into his hands. you shot her a glare which you knew she saw. 

“four,” he confirmed a moment later. she nodded, much more cheery now than before having gotten a good look at zach in all of his glory. 

“you gonna wait out here, baby?” zach asked right before he entered the dressing room. 

“yeah,” you replied simply. “come out here and show me everything you try on, though! i wanna be able to see my master piece,” you winked. he rolled his eyes but chuckled nonetheless as he shut the dressing room door behind him. you could see him kicking off his white high tops from the opening underneath the door. 

“so,” the same woman from before huffed, leaning against the wall right next to where you were seated. you said nothing, rather just looked up at her questioningly. 

“how long have you and pretty boy been together?” she asked. you could tell that there was an undertone of bitterness in her voice, and you returned it right back. 

“almost a year.” 

“oh, well you better keep an eye on him. with him looking like that and you looking like that,” she said, looking you up and down the same way she did to zach. “he could leave you in a hot minute, and he probably will so watch out.” 

you scoffed at how rude this lady who was supposed to be ‘improving your shopping experience’ was being. “i’m sorry, i think you have the wrong idea,” you shook your head, trying your hardest to remain calm and not blow up on this woman. 

“alright,” she gigged, looking down at her nails. clearly, she wasn’t satisfied with your reaction. you rolled your eyes and looked over to zach’s dressing room, anxiously waiting for him to come out.

“ya know, your boy toy looks oddly familiar,” she commented again.  

“uh, yeah. he’s actually in a band,” you told her, a smile making it’s way onto your face. you were so so so proud of zach and anytime his success came up in conversation, you instantly became giddy. 

“oh, so he has even more of an opportunity to sneak off with another girl,” she chuckled. at this point, she knew she was pushing your buttons and she wanted to see how far she could push. “i mean, assuming they go on tour with their probably trash music. imagine all of the girls he meets who are just dying to get with him!” 

she wasn’t wrong. he did meet a ton of girls who were ‘dying to get with him,’ but you knew that there was no way that he ever would do that to you. you knew that well. 

“listen,” you nearly growled at the woman. her head shot up from looking down at her nails at your sudden confrontation with her. “i don’t know what it is you’re poking at, but it needs to stop.” you pushed yourself off of the bench you were sitting on to get closer to the woman so that you would not have to start a scene. “my boy toy and i are very happy together. he is incredibly successful and meets a lot of supporters daily, but he would never cheat on me with them. with anyone! we have a future together and we both know it, and it is in fact none of your business to get into, but thank you for the effort.” 

her eyes widened. clearly, she wasn’t used to being confronted as you had just done. as if on cue, zach emerged from the dressing room wearing the same clothes he had been wearing all day with the clothes you had sent him in with in his hand. 

“listen, babe-” he began but you cut him off quickly. 

“zach, let’s get the fuck out of here,” you rushed him, taking the clothes out of his hands and carelessly putting them on the counter where the unwanted clothes belonged. you continued to grab hold of his bicep and take him out of the store with you promptly. 

“baby,” he chuckled as you dragged him all the way out the front door. “what the fuck did you do?” he continued giggling once you stopped moving. 

“she was a bitch,” you mumbled. 

“what do you mean? the girl at the changing rooms? but she seemed so nice!”

“she wasn’t.” 

“what made you blow up?” he asked, already knowing for a fact that you had some sort of argument with the woman. 

“well first she told me that your music was trash and then she told me that you probably meet tons of fans all the time which completely contradicts the first thing because if it was trash you wouldn’t have fans to meet and then she told me that you were going to leave me for one of them and i wasn’t having it!” you rambled, taking a deep breath afterwards. 

“so you told her off?” zach clarified. 

“yeah kinda,” you mumbled, suddenly becoming flustered. he smiled at your blushing cheeks cheesily before wrapping his arm around your shoulder tightly. 

“that’s my girl,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple as the two of you continued to aimlessly wonder the city. 

a/n: hella unedited oopsies 

[romanmacharoni]

The 5 Worst Films of 2016

It was a great year for movies... but that doesn’t mean that some terrible movies didn’t fall through the cracks. 

To clarify, this is a list of movies I have seen in 2016. Films that were considered either awful (“Meet The Blacks”, “Gods of Egypt”) or films I just haven’t had the time for (“Man Down”, “Assassin’s Creed”) I didn’t bother with. I also didn’t watch the new “Ghostbusters”. Sorry not sorry guys.

In this list, you’re getting the films that I thought either could not live up to their potential or films that truly sucked. I suppose it’s a good thing I found more films that I enjoyed than not, but that also means there were a LOT of films that were simply mediocre. Speaking of mediocre, let’s start off the list with something that epitomizes middle of the road.  

#5 - “Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice”

*First off, not listing the Extended Version. If you want people to like your movie, you release what you want people to watch with the main release.*

I said in my year-end film review last year (My #1 worst was “Fantastic Four” which surprised absolutely no one) that nothing is worse than wasted potential. I suppose there really is no better example of this than in “Dawn of Justice”. The ability to make a phenomenal movie was in their grasp; nevertheless, it ended up being little more than an average movie. Being an average movie for a premise as monumental and—I’ll preface this by saying I’ve come to hate this word because of overuse in the media— ‘epic’ as this is a slap in the face to comic book fans and moviegoers alike. Not even Superman can save this from being just a blip on the radar in terms of the [very early] summer blockbuster season. I guess it looked nice though. In some parts. While compromising story.

You want my uncut opinion on this? Read my unedited review of the film on my blog, available January 6th. (I know, it’s late, but it gives context to this capsule review)

#4 - “Fifty Shades of Black”

It’s “Fifty Shades of Grey”. With Marlon Wayans. And no real punchlines. That’s it.

Oh, you want to elaborate? Alright, let us do that. The premise for a parody like this is ripe for the picking, but ultimately this is a soft and albeit lazy comedic adaptation. The amount of jokes that could have been squeezed out are immense (and many have been done to great effect just on YouTube and Tumblr alone), but for some reason the entire plot of “Grey” is rehashed—which is odd because most people even interested in seeing this already saw “Grey”— as we’re forced to watch comedians who could be trying much harder try and fail.

#3 - “God’s Not Dead 2”

Do you like straw man arguments and shameless exploitation, and only live on the internet to start flame wars on religion? Have I got a film for you! 

Also, I should preface the rest of this by stating that I’m not saying that I don’t like this movie because it’s Christian. It wouldn’t matter if this was a movie about the Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, or Islamic or any other faith. This is just a bad film. There are good Christian movies (”The Passion of the Christ” and “The Prince of Egypt” come to mind), but this is not one of them.

This film’s self-gratification (I guess you could say ‘holier-than-thou’) is quite frankly unjustified. The fear it tries to instill is also not plausible; to spoil the plot a little, the ‘danger’ and subsequent legal trouble the protagonist goes through is unwarranted and overblown for what has been said to have been based on real court cases. The protagonist refers to the Bible as a literary source without  mentioning her own beliefs, which is completely fine. I’ve taken religion classes in college and it’s the same thing. 

This script is structured like they were holding your hand and making sure you didn’t get lost along the way. The cinematography, audio, score and acting are all bland and void of anything creative. It’s like a film made on auto pilot. This film is, ironically, lifeless. 

The first film felt a bad TV movie that got clearance to screen in thousands of theaters, and this sequel is even worse. Imagine that.

Want a review of this movie that goes into a lot more detail? Try this one, it’s grand. 

#2 - “Norm of the North”

At least this one doesn’t offend me personally as much as the last one. But man o’ man, it’s been a while since I saw an animated film as fundamentally broken as this one. Top to bottom, this film is a train wreck. The story is stretched out yet still leaves huge plot holes, the characters are either unmemorable or annoying, the whole thing feels like a cash grab and it’s so terrible than even Rob Schneider deserves better than this. This movie should fade away from obscurity like so much of the polar ice caps (sorry to make that joke so dark).

#1 - “Zoolander 2”

It’s sad when not even the writers care about what they’re putting out. A blatant attempt to recreate lightning in a bottle, this film falls flat because it doesn’t even try. It’s on par with some Happy Madison productions, and I honestly  don’t care if people say “It’s supposed to be bad”. There is a difference between being so-bad-it’s-good and just being bad. You can still make a nice-looking movie and still have it suck. Making a joke that a premise is ridiculous isn’t enough to make it funny. There has to be a reason for it. Don’t get me wrong, there are a couple good jokes, mostly in the form of cameos, but this whole thing just ends up being a mess. 

You can read my original review of Zoolander 2 here.