#may not be the old man I’d go for personally but god I get it

[daincrediblegg]

i just saw a thirst trap of john kramer. as one of the foremost leaders of the old man fucker agenda, what are your thoughts? 🎤

Having recently learned that he is portrayed by Tobin Bell who is also in Stargate SG-1 and plays the jerk leader of the Tollans named Omoc, I can with confidence give my support to this old man fuckery. Also no one has home alone-d harder.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[starslyt]

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙊𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 — 𝙆. 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜：𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 ( 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝟐𝟖 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝟏𝟗? 𝐈𝐝𝐤 𝐟𝐫.) 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ( 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐭𝐜) 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝�� 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ( 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 ), 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲

𝙒𝙘: 𝟐,𝟖𝟖𝟓

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: @sebs-oxygen , @cafekitsune (DNI banner + divider)

“Dad I really don’t wanna go to this. It’s gonna be a bunch of rich pricks that I don’t like” you groaned out upset.

Your dad had gotten a work promotion therefore more money and that meant more rich parties you just had to to show support for your loving father. To be quite honest, you never really cared about any of that stuff. You hated that rich life and that the other rich kids expected you to be the same way just because your father had money. You were spoiled but not enough to make it your whole personality.

“Cmon, just one more. You don’t have to stay just help me make a good impression, please?” Your father pleaded with you. usually he wasn’t all this desperate to keep you there or force you to stay. You couldnt help but sigh and stay just to help him out just a little. He was a hard working man and always provided for you and gave you what you wanted when you asked for it.

You walked in the building with your dad and instantly parted away from him going over to talk with one of your “friends” that was there. She bragged out the 4th car she’s gotten every year since she’s turned 16 and she’s 19 now. you just nodded your head and rolled your eyes

you were just so uninterested until your dad walked over with this fine ass man. blonde hair, hazel eyes and a tall muscular figure.

he definitely piqued your interest. you shifted your weight to one of your legs, you weren’t wearing shoes either— you been took those off. heels weren’t necessarily your thing either

“kid, there’s someone i’d like you to meet. this is Kento Nanami, he’s an old friend of mine. you’re going to be seeing him a lot now, he’s my boss now” your father spoke in a way to make it known that you needed to make a good impression on him. you scanned him up and down but gave him a smile

“well it’s nice to meet you, y/n. i’ve heard a lot about you.” Nanami spoke looking you up and down aswell giving you a smile

“oh my god, dad” you said in a whine leaning over looking past Nanami at your father hearing about how your dads practically has been bragging about you

“my bad honey, i’ll let you two get acquainted..” your dad spoke walking away but gave you a thumbs up as he walked away

“may i say you’re quite the beautiful young lady.” Nanami’s deep voice rang in your ears making your cheeks heat up

“thank you, do you have any kids here?” you asked innocently yet urgently just looking around for anyone that seemingly looked like him. if you couldn’t have the older version why not have the younger version.

“oh no, i don’t have kids.” Nanami spoke watching you scan and search in the crowd of people

“damn..” you mumbled under your breath. Nanami chuckled a bit at that “what seems to be the problem?” he asked without worry or concern “nothing just looking to make a new friend” you responded

you two talked for practically the entire time. he was easy to talk to. he told you all types of stories about your dad when they were in highschool and his young adulthood. you stared at him as if he’d put the sun in the sky

you told him about what you were majoring in and how terribly disappointed at how college wasn’t what you thought it would’ve been. he cheered you up quickly by making you laugh

then the topic of boys was brought up after asking you if you’d liked any of the boys at your Uni. the answer was a quick no

“no, they’re all just frat boys with like no respect for themselves or other people. plus i just prefer older men. guys my age just aren’t the same because they lack respect and empathy for other people.” you went on to explain as he started at you intently with a smile as if this was what he wanted you to hear

“oh really? never thought a sweet girl like you would prefer older men.” Nanami hummed as he looked at you

“i just know i’d like to be treated with the respect that my generation of boys don’t have.”

you two were sitting in a non-crowded area just talking when his cold hand fell on your thigh making you shiver

your breath got caught in your throat as you looked at him “you cold?” his voice was raspy too. it scratched the right part inside you

“no, i’m fine..” you trailed just looking at him as he looked at you. “you sure you’re alright?” he moved his hand to rest on your cheek examining your face

“yeah, just a little headache is all and it’s very bright and loud in here” you spoke as you ran your fingers through your hair scratching at it a bit

“well let me take you to one of the rooms. they’re soundproof and you can dim the lights. if that’ll help you feel better..” Nanami spoke with a bit of concern

you nodded and followed up to the room. of course he was right. as soon as he closed the door the noise went away and the lights were much dimmer and weren’t as painful to your eyes

he sat next to you on the bed getting back to your conversation “so you were saying you want the respect that younger men can’t give you?” Nanami picked up

“i’m not even sure you can call them men because they haven’t earned that title when they’re still basically sucking on their mothers titty still. if they can’t find their way to my clit what makes you think they can find their way to my heart?” you spoke as if it was just one of your friends you saw namami’s eyes widen “oh my— i’m so sor—“ you were cut off by the pussy wetting laugh of nanami

“i must say you are very straight forward and very funny. you’re a very interesting young lady” He technically praised because it didn’t sound like scold

“so, you’ve never been completely satisfied before?” Nanami asked looking at you. any normal girl would’ve been a bit uncomfortable with a grown man asking questions like that but you clearly weren’t normal

“no. i haven’t.. i mean they try so i’ll give them that but.. im not quite easy to please if i say myself so i do it myself” you spoke playing with your fingers on your lap

“or maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet.” Nanami gently turned your head towards him with his finger and he pressed his lips to yours

you kissed him back desperately as he tapped your thigh and pulled him on his lap still kissing you. his hands went to the fat of your ass squeezing at it

he lifted your dress up, no panties either. seems as if you were just ready and needy for him. you couldn’t hide your wetness from him as he swept his finger down there catching it in his fingers

“you’re so wet, princess. just from a couple kisses? you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” his breath tickled your ear as he laid you on your back

his hands traveled all over your tummy and sides just squeezing and kissing “pretty, pretty girl” he mumbled against your skin

he spread those thick, warm thighs apart and left little kisses around your sensitive clit “the problem is that younger men don’t know what foreplay is, sweetheart. if you’re not turned on it’ll be hard to make you cum because you’re body isn’t in the mood to do it.”

Nanami spoke watching your clit pulsate from the kisses and grow wetter from them. when he felt as if it was enough his lips wrapped around your clit sucking and licking

your moans erupted from your throat immediately. your fingers tangling in his hair as you gently tugged on it. you couldn’t form words as your eyes built tears in them

you let out some pants. your eyes were all hazy and just watching him devour you. his large hands pushing up your thighs and keeping them apart no matter how much you squirmed and tried to close them

“n-nanami..” you whimpered feeling his tongue enter your messy hole as he lapped up all your wetness.

he didn’t let up once. you tasted so good to him. fruity with a little tang to it. he loved it down there. you smelled so good too. coco butter and bath and body works really worked together

“f-feels good.. oh my god, ‘nami” you’d never felt pleasure like this. not even when you did it yourself. he had opened up a whole new world for you just by licking on your sweet cunt

he gently flicked his tongue on your clit causing your back to arch up all pretty just for him

“so wet just for me. tastin’ so good ‘n sweet. let me make you feel good, pretty. i’ll take care of you, sweet girl”

his thick fingers gently pushing into you as your body just went limp from pleasure. as his fingers curled against that spot of yours quickly. it took him no time to find it

“squeezing’ my fingers so tight. so warm and wet. you gonna be my girl from now on? don’t want nobody touching you like this. all mine.” his voice rang against your clit

his fingers and tongue work med in sync. you were clenching so tightly around his fingers that he could tell you were close

“you wanna cum princess?” Nanami’s tongue flicked against your bud making you let out a sharp whine and a nod

“use your words, pretty girl, i wanna hear you say it” Nanami spoke as he leaned up towards your face watching your faces of pleasure

“i-i wanna.. cum.. please sir” you whined as your eyes were half lidded. Nanami used his free hand to grab your cheeks and make you have eye contact with him

“such good manners, how could i say no to that? cum for me baby. let yourself feel good” Nanami spoke pressing a gentle kiss to your messy lips that were wet from drool

you felt that knot inside you burst and soon you were squirting all over his fingers with a loud moan as he continued to dig his fingers into your g-spot through your orgasm as you convulsed and tried to push away his hand

“that’s it, sweet girl. feels good yeah? such a good job pretty. so good jus’ for me.” Nanami praised in your ear and when he was finished he pulled his fingers gently and sucked on them

“tastes so good sweetie. you’re a good girl.” Nanami spoke pulling his fingers out his mouth. he rubbed the side of your thigh

he gently pulled you a bit closer to him letting your legs rest on his shoulders. he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock

you gulped seeing it. it was big. too big. all you could do was whine but he pressed a kiss to your lips “shh, you’re okay baby. just let me please you like you deserve okay?” he hummed in your ear

Nanami lined his cock up with that tight hole of yours and gently pushed it in. whines and whimpers escaped your lips

Nanami’s head was thrown back ashe pushed into you “fuuuck.” he groaned out softly feeling his thick cock getting choked out by that messy cunt of yours

your knees were pressed up against your chest as your toes curled in pleasure and those little whimpers you let out were just music to his ears

“b-big…r-really big..” you panted looking up at Nanami who was still pushing into you inch by inch “shh, i know baby, i know but you can take it. gonna make you feel so good jus’ hold on for a bit longer princess” Nanami was in his own world of pleasure

the 28 year old had never had pussy this good. the old man was just about to have a stroke because of it. those sweet moans and whines you let out weren’t helping either

he pressed his lips to yours to keep you quiet while he pushed the rest inside you making you feel so full. he could tell by those hazy eyes of yours you were enjoying this

“there we go baby, good job. you’re such a good girl for me.” Nanami spoke immediately quickening the pace pounding into you abusing that sensitive spot inside you

“n-na’mi.. ‘s big… c-can’t..” you moaned out as your breathe quickened as he looked down at you. his hand resting loosely on your throat

“shh, it’s okay baby. you can take it. i just need to fuck this pussy a bit more get you all loosened up.” Nanami gently kissed your forehead as he continued to pound into your bruised little cunt from trying to take it all

your breath caught in your throat as it finally hit you about what you were doing. you were fucking your dads best friend, not only that his boss as well—

“there we go, relax for me baby. you’re okay i swear. just relax and let me make you feel good” Nanami spoke placing his hands under your thighs and squeezing them as he rocked himself into you

he leaned down and pressed little kisses on her cheeks and your lips leaving you hazy and breathless. your legs trembled as he pressed his lips to your ankle

“you’re takin’ me so well baby, that’s it honey. i know it’s big but you’re doing such a good job” Nanami praised still pounding into you. your tummy started to feel all tight as you looked at him

“daddy.. wan’ kiss.. i wan’ kiss please” you looked at him through lazy eyes as you caught him off guard by calling him daddy. he’d never been a fan but coming from your sweet lips it was just too cute

“daddy? how cute. cum on daddy’s cock princess.” he chuckled pressing his lips to yours gently as that knot in your tummy started to unravel. your juices wetting up the bed and his cock which was still pressed deeply inside you

“good job princess, such a good job.” Nanami praised sitting you in his lap thrusting up into you.

your arms wrapped loosely around his neck as he bounced you on his lap whispering praises in your ear

never thought today would be the day you got manhandled by a man almost 2 decades older than you

you made no effort to stop him from milk out orgasms out of you

“this the best pussy i’ve ever had princess. just one more. one more i promise.. i jus’ need to feel you cum one more time. you can do it baby”

a loud pathetic whine left your lips as he bounced you a couple times on his lap but he did all the work. tears built in your eyes from pleasure and a small line of drool ran down your lips

nanami’s large hands were at your waist slamming him down his throbbing “c-can’t.. please daddy..” you whined out gripping onto his shirt as he stared at your your pretty face

“you look so pretty when you take my cock. baby. cmon make daddy proud, princess. jus’ one more. one more and we’re done.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead

“need to feel you cum one more time, this pretty cunt takes me so well. you deserve this baby.” Nanami spoke in your ear

he harshly bounced you on his cock as your eyes rolled back feeling your orgasm rushing to you quickly

“daddy…‘m cummin’..” you squealed out as you squirted once more for the old man. it was so intense in its own right but nanami continued to fuck into you pumping your womb with his cum

“good girl. good-fuckin’-girl. stuffed this cunt full..” nanami finally stopped and laid you down on the bed. he was surprised to see you were already asleep

you’d passed out from the intense rounds the two of you went. nanami couldn’t help but chuckle as he spread your legs again looking at your now gaping hole that was dripping his cum

“mm, so messy and stretched out. i think i wanna keep this pretty doll around.” he mumbled pressing a kiss to your cunt and forehead waiting for his sweet girl to wake up

extra:

The upcoming days were torture for your father. he felt as if he didn’t make a good impression on the rich people to actually get the job and position he desired and if you’d done your part

when the letter came in the mail with the confirmation that he could start working there he was over the moon

you two celebrated the new job. everything would be fine if he didn’t figure out you let his boss stuff your pretty cunt to help him get the job.

©️ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐�� 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

[mrsparrasblog]

All too well

The first chapter to this post

TW: Angst

Despite the popular disbelief of your friends, military school was never easy for you. Of course, you had the greatest test scores most of the time, but what use were they when no one believed you achieved them? Being the only girl in class sucked; most of your classmates believed you were basically a prostitute, giving the teacher head so you would pass, which couldn't be further from the truth. You were still a virgin. Okay, it’s normal at 18, or isn’t it? You didn’t know. The people who didn’t believe you were pleasing the teacher under the table thought the teacher favored you since you were a girl.

They thought the military was too hard for you to pass and the teachers knew soldiers needed eye candy on the field. All idiots. The only man in your class who wasn’t full of patriarchal disbelief was Jonathan William Price, but though he may have seen you as someone who didn’t fuck around for good grades, he hated you. You didn’t know why at first, but after some time, the hate went both ways. He fought against you harder than against the others. He teased you and made you feel like you weren’t good enough even though you were better than him most of the time. He still won against you a few times, which sat sour in your eyes.

This was your last year, and after that, you’d be in the real field where prejudice didn’t have a place. There, they would only see your strength - only one year left. You sat in the front row of the yellow classroom, waiting for the new term to start and to get your tasks and assignments for the following months. Jonathan walked past you with his dumb, shit-eating grin.

“Still didn’t quit, love?”

“Still an idiot, I see.”

“You love it, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you rolled your eyes at him and tried to ignore his annoying, insufferable personality. Sometimes ignoring him didn’t help, even complaining to your friends: “Boys will be boys.” God, how you hated that sentence. There was only one thing you hated more than that, and it was him.

---------------------------------------------------------

“You missed something, love,” he pointed at the mannequin with a bullet hole in the stomach instead of the heart.

“Shut up or I’ll use you as a mannequin next.”

“With your aim, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Go away, Price.”

“Let me show you how,” he walked behind you, his hips pressed against you as he corrected your stance. And indeed, after the correction, you hit the target perfectly.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“I think a thank you is in order.” Stupid idiot with his cocky smile and replies, and his stupid beautiful eyes.

“I’d rather die than say thank you to you.”

“Ouch, kitten has claws.”

“If you call me kitten again, I’ll kill you.”

“As if you were able to, little missy.”

------------------------------------------------------------

“Guess we’re working together on this.”

“I won’t work with you, Jonathan Price.”

----------------------------------------------

Stuck in a safe house for a week, you got close to each other. He wasn’t that prick you believed him to be; he was actually nice and kind of funny.

“Can you call me John?”

“Why?”

“I hate being called Jonathan, even worse, William.”

“Everyone calls you that.”

“And I hate it,” he admitted.

“Can I ask why?”

“My dad chose this name. Mum always called me John, but Dad insisted on calling me Jonathan. William is actually my dad’s name.”

“Not a good relationship with your dad?”

“Hate that bastard. Never cared about me or Mum, only about the military.”

“I get that.”

“Your old man is shit too?”

“Never wanted a girl, didn’t even talk to me when I was a kid.”

He poured a glass of whiskey for both of us. “We won’t turn out like them.”

“We won’t.”

---------------------------------------------------------

When you heard he needed to face disciplinary actions, you couldn’t believe it. John never did anything against the rules, well, not since high school.

“What did you do?”

“Stupid muppet deserved it.”

“Why?”

“Told everyone you slept with Sergeant Filch.”

“John, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“And what if I don’t want you to have to protect yourself?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean you’re still a virgin?”

“I said you’re not allowed to make fun of this, John.”

“I’m not laughing, just surprised. You know, you look beautiful. Just thought a lucky bloke already swept you off your feet.”

“No lucky bloke even tried.”

“Do you want to lose your virginity?”

“John.”

“I said, do you want to lose it?”

“Yes.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Do you believe in soulmates, John?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?”

“Can’t think of a version of me who doesn’t fall in love with you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course, love.”

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------

“What do you want, Dad?”

“There is only one place in the SAS for this class. Don’t disappoint me, Jonathan.”

“I won’t disappoint you.”

--------------------------------------------------------

“John, can you imagine we will both be in the SAS after the test tomorrow? We are basically a power couple, like Bonnie and Clyde, just as good people.”

“You think we will still be together in the SAS?”

“Of course, I love you.”

“I don’t love you.”

“What?” You laughed awkwardly. He must be joking, one of his stupid jokes again.

“I said I don’t love you.”

“But you said yesterday that you love me.”

“Are you really that stupid?”

“John.”

“Your own dad couldn’t love you, what made you believe that I did?”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. You tried hard to hold your tears together. “John, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being stupid for thinking you were more to me than a quick fuck.”

--------------------------------------------------

SAS Enlisting Test

Jonathan William Price: 150 points, accepted  

Y/N L/N: 149 points, accepted

----------------------------------------------------

“Love, you got in,” John screamed out of reflex, hugging you tight.

“What is wrong with you, John? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you act like this now and yesterday?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you think that cuts it.”

“It’s not like you think it is. I love you, I just needed to get in. You don’t get it.”

“No, Jonathan, you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to tell me you love me. You’re not even capable of love.”

------------------------------------------------------------

Nineteen years, two divorces, six bullet wounds, and a promotion to captain later, he still thought about you when the whiskey cleared his mind of any denial. Leaving you was one of his biggest mistakes in life. He wondered what happened to you. He never saw you after you joined the SAS. Maybe you’re a lieutenant, or maybe you quit the military and became a housewife, even though he didn’t believe that. You were too happy in the military; no man who really loved you would take that away from you.

He had half a mind to call Laswell, tell her about you, and ask what you were up to. But deep down, he knew you were probably dead. War had its price, and it took the good ones way too often. So he was happy living like this, in his delusion that you’re alive and just the one who got away. If he was honest, even if you were still alive, he didn’t want to see you. He knew it would destroy him to see you again with his hate-filled eyes.

He got an incoming call from Kate. Did she really need to distract him from his swimming in self-pity?

“Kate, what do you need?”

“Are you ready for the games?” Huh, Kate always complained that this was childish and never showed big interest, even when they always winked. He didn’t mind the games; he knew how they motivated Soap and Gaz, or how much Ghost loved showing off his skills. He hated attention, but showing a bunch of task forces how much better they were was a thing not even Ghost couldn’t resist.

“Yes, why?”

“You know the new colleague I complained about?”

“The idiot who calls himself Hades?” What a dumb call sign.

“His team attends too, and if he wins, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“What do I get if I sweep the floor with his team?”

“Davidoff Robusta, year 2016.”

“Deal.”

-----------------------------------------------------

You sat in the comfiness of your chair, finishing the last bits of paperwork from the last mission to finally end the day and go to the pub with your girls. When suddenly your phone rang, the name Hades popped up and you knew the comfortable day with your girls would be over. He would send you to a hostage rescue or gather intel. As long as it wasn’t a mission in the fucking Arctic again, it’s fine.

“Hello, Hades,” you said sweetly on the telephone. Despite the annoying missions he sends you on, Hades is your best friend. You could never trust anyone more than him. He saved your ass way too often to keep count on it.

“Sorry to bother you, do you know about the military games?” Of course, you knew, how couldn’t you? But you never bothered; that’s a childish thing. You better use your resources for the real thing and not a fight between self-proclaimed alpha males who will tell your team you are just girls.

“Yes, why?”

“I told you about Kate.”

“The one who called you incompetent in front of everyone, how could I forget that?”

“She always brags about how her team wins, please.”

“Hades, these games are stupid.”

“John Price takes part.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? Count us in.”

--------------------------------------------------------

Soap and Gaz bickered the whole day, while they put the tent up, while Ghost analyzed all the different teams, eagerly writing down every one of their strengths and weaknesses. While Price listened the whole day to Kate's complaints about Hades.

“None of them seem like a real threat, boss,” Ghost chimed proudly.

“Which of them is Hades' team?”

“He wanted to meet up here, act friendly, get to know their weaknesses, make them believe they’re superior.”

“What if they are really superior?” Gaz asked, earning a laugh from the whole team.

“We win every year, Garrick,” Soap replied.

“There he is.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye  dinnae tell us they’re fuckin’ hot, Laswell.”

“An all-girls squad?”

“I didn’t know,” Kate replied to Ghost.

John turned around wanting to know what the whole fuss was over, noticing the four girls walking over to them. In front of the group was their confident captain, and when he looked at the way-too-familiar face, he wanted to fucking drown himself in the Atlantic Ocean. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Taglist: @riddikulus-obsessions @cod-z @undercover-smutlover @werschitz

A/N : The first chapter is a lot of explaining the next one will be more fun hehe

[devil-in-hiding]

estranged childhood best friend Simon said he’d always be there if you truly needed him. And he meant it. As he got older though, and he became more dangerous, and more of a target, he knew for your sake that he had to cut ties.

Simon Riley died, all that was left was Ghost. And so of course he did to you what his name would suggest, he ghosts you. He cuts off all contact, he makes a vow to himself that he’ll never speak to you again, you’ll never see him again, and hopefully you’ll forget about him.

But you don’t. He never gave you a reason for his absence, and you assume the worst. You’re left believing that he KIA, that he’s gone for good. Simon loves you, he’d never cut you off. You still text him, every single day and night.

He didn’t block your number, he just never answers you. When Simon died and Ghost clawed his way out of the ashes, he got rid of everything from his old life he could. Except for one old, cracked phone. The only number left on it is yours. Even years after you assume he’s dead you keep texting him. You say good morning and good night everyday without fail, you tell him everything that happens in your life, even the smallest details. And he reads all the texts. He wants so badly to type back, to respond, but he just can’t do it. He knows he’s a dangerous man, a bad person, and you deserve better than him.

You could never move on. You could never make new friends, and you could never open yourself up to dating. Without Simon you have nothing left. Your life starts to fall apart, slowly but surely. Ghost has to watch in horror and dismay as the things you text him about shift from everyday life, to the horrible things that’s happening. When you text him about the dangerous people you owe money to though, telling him you’re going to see him soon, it’s the last straw.

“I’ll always be there, if ya really need it luv.”

well, you really need it. You need him. He didn’t want it to come to this but he knew if he didn’t help you now it would be too late. He thought he was helping you by cutting you off, but instead he may have gotten you killed.

He rushes to you, praying to a god he long since thought abandoned him. When gets to your house there’s black vans cars lined outside, the door left ajar. All sane thoughts have left his head, he just knows that you’re inside, with dangerous people, and he has to get there. And just like when he’s on the battlefield, a sense of clarity washes through him. As he makes his way through the house, slaughtering the people in his path, the people who want to hurt you, he doesn’t give them a second thought. When he finds you in the kitchen, tears staining your cheeks and blood splattered on your shirt as you lay terrified on the floor, he falls to his knees before you. He caresses your cheek softly, not caring about the blood soaking his hands.

“please… don’t hurt me.” You whimper softly, and he can’t help but laugh softly as he takes off the mask.

“I’d never hurt you luv. S’okay.” You whispers, watching the realization flash before your eyes.

“Si- Simon?” You ask, sitting up to get a better look at him. His face may be disfigured with all the scars, but you can tell it’s him.

“Not anymore.”

-🫧

i am so in love with you and your brain

you have no idea what your thoughts do to me

like

you are a work of art to me

[pepsiconcoction]

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee. 

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it. 

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him. 

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey. 

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and 

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego. 

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes. 

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?” 

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink. 

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost. 

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” 

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?” 

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time. 

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'. 

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes. 

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order. 

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again. 

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour. 

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this. 

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him. 

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day. 

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart. 

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink. 

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite. 

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

 That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness. 

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?” 

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling. 

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively. 

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

[toreii]

Mortal Kombat 1: Khaos Reigns Review

Let me just preface this post by saying I’m still on the fence about sharing my thoughts. Like many, I am highly disappointed with the direction this DLC went. I would have never imagined this was in store for me last year during the summer when I first watched the Lin Kuei trailer. Khaos Reigns provoked two days of awful headaches followed by days of disillusion. Yes, NRS played me for a fool (thank god I did not purchase this). I gave them the benefit of the doubt, and it came to bite me in the ass. If I had a physical copy of the game, I’d chuck it in the trash. I’m finding it difficult to proceed forward which is hard because I like to see things through even if it sucks. All I can do is protect my vision of Bi-Han and staying true to the old lore as I try and move on.

That being said, to address my take on this expansion:

To begin, the elephant in the freaking room--Sektor and Cyrax.

I am a Lin Kuei fan overall. Not a big fan of him in general, but there has been appreciation for him and Cyrax throughout the years. When I learned that both were going to be genderbent, I had a little bit of misgivings suddenly changing things drastically. But, again, I gave NRS the benefit of the doubt. Since this is a new era, I was on board with it until the rumors started circulating about both being love interests for the brothers. I was like "That makes no sense whatsoever." To me, the Lin Kuei has always been like a brotherhood. In no given time, has there ever been any indication of personal relationships outside of camaraderie. For example, Cyrax and Smoke being vehemently upset over Bi-Han's death in MK9, and not just Kuai Liang.

The argument can be constantly made that this is a new timeline, and it's Liu Kang's creation over and over. But, when you have that man (Dominic) constantly saying the timelines are canon, but not really. But, still are. It's incredibly hard to take anything seriously right now especially with the constant flip flopping that man does for the sake of the current script. Which is another point, but back to the bastardization of our two Lin Kuei girls.

I wanted to believe in a strong, female Sektor, who has her own ideals which we can all clearly see. Like her past iterations, she lives, breathes, and bleeds Lin Kuei. I wanted to see a Sektor who slowly, but surely descended into her own madness of corruption as she pursued her goals for the Cyber Initiative. Sektor has always been known for his technological genius, and she would be no different. To see her potential constantly get staunched for her adulation and obsession for Bi-Han was hard to witness. I can understand that this may be a flaw for her, but it is a very shitty flaw. Because this one trait absolutely negates everything she stands for. I can see that both she and Bi-Han use each other to a certain extent where it seems fit. I know her horrible romance is the center of focus right now, but if you listen to her intros with Bi-Han, it seems to be all business between them. There is barely any indication that their relationship goes beyond the realm of the clan and into a personal tryst. Sektor calls it love, but it's not quite there. I mean, there's love for the grandmaster, but the love that seems to be implied between the two is not quite there. At least, in my view.

I don't know about Sektor yet, but I already deduced that Bi-Han isn't someone who's desperate to correct anyone on the spot. He doesn't have to. He doesn't owe anyone an explanation, so of course he runs with whatever people say about him. He's unbothered by anyone's opinions of him. When Kuai Liang told Cyrax the truth about Bi-Han letting their father die, Bi-Han could have stepped in at any given moment and contradicted Kuai Liang. Instead, he chose to own every word Kuai said. I've had this feeling since the end of the base campaign that Kuai Liang simply took pieces of what Bi-Han said, and spun them to fit his own narrative. (Killing your father and letting him die because of an accident are two completely different things.)

Anyways, going back to Sektor, that scene where Bi-Han's mind was being restored seems to be the only shoehorned indication that there is more to them than meets the eye. But, again, it was badly placed, badly presented as well. First of all, Sektor really should not have been there in that room at all. From a storytelling perspective, I'm supposed to believe that both Sektor and Bi-Han have this obsessive romance and codependency between each other in a few seconds of frames, than the brotherhood between Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas??? And this was my worst fear for Bi-Han too. I did not want him to be "saved" by romance. I wanted his salvation to come from within himself as he reflected on his poor decisions and the tragedy of his downfall which sadly we were robbed and negated from. If the scene only involved Liu Kang, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang, it would have been more poignant. There has always been that story between the two brothers. I understand, this is not the same Kuai of two timelines ago. But, why is MK: Onslaught's ScorpKuai a lot more wholesome than our MK1 iteration??? He was absolutely horrified meeting MK11 Noob. He couldn't understand why Bi-Han became Noob (and how). But, Kuai's first instinct in the DLC is to be absolutely pissed and disgusted? "Your new attire suits you. It is as black as your heart." Darling, no. I would have been more pleased seeing Kuai approach the table and have this conflicting expression. The hatred can still be there, but the concern and sorrow for whom was once family to him, and his eldest brother needed to be portrayed. I mean, we sort of got it with the whole coffin scene at the end. But, in that scene, in that moment, that more than Bi-Han reaching for Sektor and touching foreheads with her is a lot more powerful in terms of storytelling. I don't know why NRS is so against these two hashing it out and resolving their issues.

Now to Cyrax...oh my god...

According to Kuai Liang in the main story, Cyrax and Sektor were supposed to be absolutely loyal to Bi-Han and would abet his corruption than follow him. We obviously see that in Sektor, but what the hell happened to Cyrax? It leads me to believe that Dominic and others suddenly decided to change the script. Mind you, I firmly believe that they did so. Sektor and Cyrax being women in this game must've been a decision that came after everything was said and done for the base campaign. I'm a bit skeptical on Bi-Han suddenly turning on Cyrax because I do recall some time ago listening to some leaked audio in which Bi-Han says "Kuai Liang was supposed to give Cyrax back." It made me think "Oh shit. Does Cyrax get held hostage or something?" Like, what the hell happened? And, I'm realizing, are we missing dialogue now? There is so much that does not make sense!!! Why would they turn on her all of a sudden?!

She's supposed to be close to Bi-Han just as much as Sektor. And suddenly, Cyrax is presented as a free thinking individual who abides by her own ideals and tradition. The moment that is threatened, she feels like she can no longer follow Bi-Han and his ambitions. To make it worse, she feels so much remorse with Kuai Liang that she's ready to give up her life in penance to make up for it. It just makes no sense. And to make it worse, she spends the rest of the DLC following Kuai Liang like a little puppy ready to serve her new grandmaster. Why was she even presented as a strong individual when all she wants is Kuai Liang's adoration as well? Not to mention, it was a really gross line to include in the intros where Noob threatens to spill her relationship with Kuai Liang to Harumi. We're seriously cheapening these two women to typical high school romance tropes? Like others have expressed, this is fanfiction levels of madness.

Kuai Liang is all levels of messed up too. I am so sick and tired of him prancing around like he does no wrong, and everyone believes every word he says. Suddenly, he's the self appointed grand hero of the story when you have Liu Kang's champions sitting around and twiddling their thumbs? Why not place faith in them and send them with Kuai to resolve the current threat. I understand Kuai's Shirai Ryu is now the new protectors, but you also have these other people and beings who are preparing themselves as well for these upcoming threats. I hate that they just suddenly bled into the background, and disappeared completely. Somebody needs to not only knock Bi-Han but Kuai Liang as well a few pegs down. He too is not without his own flaws and they need to be addressed. And Liu Kang's line "Trust your wife. Avail yourself of her wisdom." The same thing with Sektor and Bi-Han. Here too. This fucking trope cannot be it. Love cannot only be the thing that saves the day. His anger, his vengeance, is no where near the levels of Hanzo. Hanzo legit had a reason to be like that. Kuai is literally throwing a bitch fit at Bi-Han, and pointing fingers anywhere but himself. Seriously, his anger and disgust against Cyrax was so unwarranted. And every time she was flustered and tried to explain, he barely gave her time to say a word. Always cutting her off, and rejecting her apologies until the end because it is implied Harumi stepped in. And he seems to just completely simmer down a bit in the presence of Noob. Where was the you who tried to take him on earlier in Chaosrealm? Suddenly, you don't feel like butting heads with your brother? Kuai Liang is such a hypocrite, and I'm tired of seeing it.

Liu Kang was also another that just got dragged through the mud. A lot of his words and actions did not make sense. He's content with disposing of Titan Shang Sung and Titan Quan Chi, but he won't let Bi-Han finish off Titan Havik because he isn't sure how he's tied to his timeline, and doesn't want to kill innocent lives? What about the timelines tied to the other two? Liu Kang had no problem ending those. Why is Titan Havik's timeline any different? Bi-Han is right. Why does that timeline matter when the most important one is theirs, Liu Kang's timeline? He tells Raiden and Kung Lao to do their best and pray they make it out alive, when Liu Kang could have better prepared them. Gets his ass handed to him, can't even go save Geras himself. Sends Kuai, Cyrax, and Sektor to Chaosrealm in blindly. And, snaps at Bi-Han for the most part towards the end instead of having a meaningful talk with him. Not just simply telling him "This is what you are meant to do. Defend Earthrealm." Well, geez, why not elaborate on that, Liu Kang? Can't you give Bi-Han a few minutes of your time to air out grievances and come to a consensus?

And what the hell happened to Titan Havik? Is he dead? Does he still live? Trapped in the void? The Kamidogu were briefly mentioned, and then dropped. They were hyped to be of importance in this DLC. I'm certain they'll make their return eventually if NRS continues the story involving Onaga when the time comes. But, Havik had plans for them as well. And we only see him fusing with the Kamidogu. That final fight with him felt pretty lackluster. Just a regular match like any other.

We are definitely missing script, and scenes. We were supposed to have gotten a whole lot more. Ed Boon said this was their project for the next few years. I suppose they felt compelled not just to omit certain things, but cut out others for future DLCs. This was setup to be more than what we got. The bar absolutely fell short of what the end product was. To charge full price is absolutely heinous. I'm sorry, but I do not have $50 on hand for each DLC that they plan to release. They charged full price for the main game, and now they plan to do so for every little story line that comes after? I can't in good conscious support this kind of marketing. I'm devastated with the story. Like, I could work and make sense and justify every decision made with the main story to a degree. I can't do the same with Khaos Reigns.

I know I was making gifs of Bi-Han last week, but after KR...my heart right now really isn't in MK1. Every time I come across posts and remotely start thinking about it, I get headaches. They are not as bad as they initially were, but this is how horribly this DLC affects me. It keeps giving me headaches. I know I probably regurgitated the same sentiments and ideas as many others have already. But, a friend told me it would be cathartic to do this. So, instead of my journal, I am here expunging these thoughts and emotions. I don't know what my future with the brand will entail, but godspeed NRS. I wish you well on your future endeavors, and that's really saying a lot on my end. I can't even hope anymore. They massacred my heart and left me to die just like papa Lin Kuei (I wish we had a name for him).

[tieflingkisser]

Kansas City Chiefs Kicker Tells Graduating Women to Get in the Kitchen

“I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother," Harrison Butker said in a commencement speech.

Harrison Butker, a kicker for the Kansas City Chiefs, on Sunday addressed the graduating class of Benedictine College, the Catholic liberal arts school known for forcing a queer-identifying basketball player to remove a Pride flag from his dorm. The 28-year-old spent his allotted 20 minutes encouraging students to denounce “dangerous gender ideologies,” and “the tyranny of diversity, equity and inclusion.” Bold of a man who’s only six years older than the average graduating student and identifies as “@buttkicker7″ on Twitter to tell young people how to live their lives but what else is new? “I think it is you, the women, who have had the most diabolic lies told to you,” Butker said. “Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world but I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world.” In a country where forced birth is the law of the land? Nothing gets a 22-year-old who’s just shelled out $34k a year on tuition more hyped than the notion of the certificates in their hands collecting dust in lieu of caring for screaming kids. “I can tell you that my beautiful wife Isabelle would be the first to say her life truly started when she started living her vocation as a wife and as a mother,” Butker went on. (Why let your wife speak for yourself when you, a man, could speak for her, eh?) “I’m on this stage today, able to be the man that I am, because I have a wife who leans into her vocation.” You reading this Sheryl Sandberg? Insurrection Ken gets to kick a ball over and over again because his wife leaned in. Butker continued—whilst choking up, I might add—saying, “I’m beyond blessed with the many talents God has given me, but it cannot be overstated that all my success is made possible because a girl I met in band class back in middle school would convert to the faith, become my wife, and embrace one of the most important titles of all: homemaker.” Not to be dramatic, but I’d rather be dead than hear that my entire existence was reduced to the key that unlocked a man’s potential. Considering the school’s tenets and reputation, Butker’s remarks were not particularly surprising, and it wasn’t like he was booed off the stage. Regardless, I’m not a praying person, but I am most certainly having a word with the big they upstairs about this man’s downfall before bed tonight.

[mischiefnevermanaged89-blog]

Love Me Like You Do

Juice Ortiz X Reader Fic

*Hello my dears! Please be patient with me as this is my 1st SOA fic! Thought I’d try it out here with you wonderful peeps! Now, a little about this story:

Reader is Opie’s half little sister (we’re going to say they share Piney as a dad, she has a different mother than Ope)

She returns home to Charming to own her own business

Reader is plus sized (since that is what I identify as and can write from personal experience)

This may not follow the seasons. It’s an idea that popped in my head from the song it’s named after. I hope you enjoy it! Please, feedback is appreciated!*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~He was the missing piece I didn’t know I needed until he walked into my life. The day I returned home, that’s when I met him. That was the day my life changed. ~

I stood in the middle of the old building, just coming from signing the paperwork to make it mine, for a cheap price I might add, from the old man who used to own it. I couldn’t help but smile. My smile grew bigger as I heard the motorcycles pulling up out front. This is what I had been waiting for.

My back was still turned to the doors as they opened, sending a ray of sunlight in, illuminating the place better.

“We’re looking for the new owner of this old place. Know where I can find him?” A deep voice boomed in the almost empty space.

I chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not a him. I just bought it off of old man Sinsom.”

“I know that voice.”

“Me,too.”

I smiled as I turned to see my older half brother Opie and his best friend, Jax, standing in front of Jax’s stepfather.

“Hello, boys. It’s good to see you.”

Opie laughed as he strode over and pulled me into a hug. “(Y/N)! When did you get back?”

“Today. Well, last night actually. Drove up so I could sign the papers making this place mine.” I waved my hands around me.

“It’s good to see you, Darlin.” Jax said as he hugged me tight.

“You, too.” I stood back and looked at them. “I see you grew up and got VP Teller.”

Jax nodded. “Yeap.”

I looked at the other guys standing behind them. “Well, I’ll be damned! Is that Tiggy?”

Tig smiled and opened his arms. “Hey, baby. It’s good to see you all grown up.”

I gave him a hug, him being my second favorite when I grew up around here. “It’s only been three years since I last seen you.”

“Hi, Bobby. It’s good to see you, too.”

“You, too, sweetheart. You’re old man’s gonna have a fit when he sees you.”

“Speaking of, where is he?”

Bobby nodded his head towards the door. “He’s comin’. Takes him a few to get around with the oxygen.”

Just then, the doors opened and in walked Piney. The man still looked the same as he did three years ago. I couldn’t help the smile on my face when I seen him.

“Hi, daddy.”

“My god. (Y/N). You’re back. Come here, sweetheart.” He smiled.

I gave him a hug and just held him. I had missed him the last few years, I missed them all. He held me in front of him by my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Still as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh, Opie. You didn’t tell me he’d went senile.”

Opie laughed. “He gets that way sometimes.”

“What? No love for me? I’m wasting away over here.”

I turned to see Clay with an arrogant smirk on his face. I gave him a quick hug. “It’s good to see you, Clay. How’s Gemma?”

He shrugged. “She’s good. Be glad to see you.”

I nodded. Before I could say anything else, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Oh, shit. Sorry, man. (Y/N), this is Juice. He’s been with us a few years now. Juice, this is my baby sister, (Y/N).” Opie said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

I held out my hand to the younger of them. “Nice to meet you.”

He nodded. “You, too.”

He took my hand and I swore I could feel electricity run through my fingers at his touch. I cleared my throat and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“So, sweetheart, what brings you back to Charming?” Dad asked.

“Well, I came back to get a new start. Mom’s pissed at me. Grandfather passed away a few months ago and left me everything. And I mean everything. She got pissed when he left her out the will. Saying, and I quote, ‘I leave all my monetary and physical possessions, including the house and vehicles, to my only granddaughter, who was my world when no one else loved me in my final years. To my daughter, I leave you with nothing but the hopeful guilt you feel for abandoning your family. May you rot in hell.’”

“Holy shit! Seriously?” Jax asked, amused.

I nodded. “Yeap. And the best part is, she cannot touch anything. I sold the house after he died. It was just us the last three years and I wanted to come home. So I sold the house and all but one car.”

“So, what are you doing with this old place?” Clay asked.

“I’m going to do what I’ve always wanted to do. Own my own business. And what better way than to open up a roadside bar on the outskirts of Charming?”

“Really? That’s what you’ve always wanted to do?” Tig asked.

“Yeah. Got my business degree online while I was taking care of Grandfather and took all the right courses to get all my licenses. Found this place while looking to come home and here I am.”

“What do you need from us, darlin?”

“Some labor. I got to get this place up to code. I’m calling tomorrow to get people in here to work on the wiring and the old kitchen. I just need some help to take everything out and clean up. Plus I got to find a tech wizard to help me set up security cameras.”

“We can do that. Got a prospect that can come and we got our own tech wizard.” Jax clapped Juice in the shoulder. “Juice here is the best when it comes to all that techy shit.”

I looked at the young Puerto Rican and smiled. “Well, Juice, looks like the two of us will become friends if your as good as they say you are.”

He gave me a shy smile. “Yeah. Maybe so.”

I clapped my hands together. “Well, as wonderful as this family reunion is, I want a shower and some takeout.”

“Where you staying?” Dad asked.

“Place has a little house out back. It’s semi furnished enough to stay in tonight until my stuff arrives tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you come to the house. Surprise Donna and the kids. Have dinner with us.”

“Okay. I’ll be there. Seven?”

Opie nodded. “Yeah. See you tonight.” He hugged me and kissed the side of my head.

After hugging all the guys, minus Juice, I waved them off, noticing Juice was the last one out. I smiled to myself as I walked out the back door to my little apartment house to get ready for dinner.

[danicalithegirl]

Coffee and TV (One Shot #3)

Art by: @jemmacdraws

It was late, we had both worked a double, and we were finally getting some time to ourselves. My roommate, having decided she needed the apartment, gave me no choice but to hang at Eddie’s. I wasn’t mad or anything, but my bed was WAY more comfortable than his and I could really use it right about now. I was in this strange middle ground of trying to clean up a little while also providing us—him, really—with snacks. He’d already cracked open a Coke, his favorite after-work ritual, and was sprawled out on the couch, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, because why stick to just one vice when you can double up?

"Work suuucked. I need to cool off, man," he groaned, dramatically tossing his shirt onto the dining table, like it had personally offended him.

I watched him wander over to the fridge, half expecting some sort of grand hunt for another cold Coke. Like clockwork, he came back with one in hand, flopped down onto the couch, and lit up.

Meanwhile, I was up, moving around the room, trying to clean up the chaos that always seemed to follow him. There was something about being in Eddie’s space—his chaotic, endearing space—that made me love him even more. It wasn’t clean or perfect, but it was him, and there was a kind of charm to the clutter. Every so often, I’d find myself standing directly in front of the TV. Not on purpose... mostly.

“Babe, c’mon,” he said, lazily waving his hand to the side, but I could feel his smirk behind the cigarette.

"What's that? You need something?" I’d ask, completely ignoring his request and standing in his line of sight even longer. It became a bit of a game.

Eddie chuckled, a little defeated, and eventually just leaned over, peering around me like he was too tired to put up a real fight. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a win.

I wandered off to the kitchen again, grabbing a big bowl and filling it with Ruffles before plopping down next to him. Without thinking, I snagged his cigarette and took a relaxing drag myself.

He turned away from the TV for a moment, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Make yourself at home, then why don’t ya?”

I laughed, inhaling again before passing it back to him. He took it with a playful smirk, clearly enjoying the little twist of our routine.

“Really? I get to make myself at home with your random mug collection and all the mess?” I elbowed him lightly, gesturing to the kitchen, which looked like a tornado had swept through it, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake.

He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “How dare you! Wayne gave me some of those mugs! Says every home needs a great random assortment of ceramic drinking vessels.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, if I'm going to be crashing here more often, something's gotta give: the mugs or the mess.”

He pouted for a moment, clearly torn, then relented. “Fine. I’ll work on the mess. But the mugs stay.”

“Deal!” I said, raising my bowl of chips in a mock toast. “May the mugs reign supreme over the chaos.”

He paused the show, glancing over at me. “What did you mean about crashing here more?”

I gave him a half-smile. “I meant what you think I meant, Eddie.”

He still looked puzzled, his face showing a flicker of confusion, maybe even a little worry. “Wait, you mean like... staying here?”

I could see the gears turning in his head, like he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.

I shrugged, “Yeah, this place is bigger, and you live alone. Thank god for rent control, right? I don’t know... I love living with Robin, but she’s always bringing Katie over and basically evicting me for their ‘alone time.’ It’s fine ‘cause I’ve been working late nights, so I’m not around when they ‘get to it,’ but... yeah, it’s getting old.”

Eddie’s lips curled into that familiar mischievous smile, his worry melting away. “Well, if you stay here, no one’s kicking you out.”

I leaned into him, feeling his warmth against me. “I know,” I whispered, snuggling closer and taking another drag of his cigarette.

[rangikuxmatsumoto]

It’s already been said, but god, are we fucked.

My string of consciousness from behind tears in under the cut. It is heavy, so if you aren’t of the right mindset right now, please don’t read but I need to get these thoughts off my mind.

Yesterday morning, I cried – a mix of anxious fear and also of hope. I’m 35 years old, my first presidential election that I could vote in was in 2008, Obama’s first term. I still remember the hope.

I remember 2012, and 2016. I wish I didn’t remember 2016. How disappointed I was in the people of this country then. I remember the anger and the rage felt by my fellow democrats, by my fellow women. I told myself I’d fight, I’d always fight, but I was 27 then, younger, not yet worn down from years that were to follow.

Then there was 2020. I thought we saw the light, learned from our mistake. I remember the joy, watching people dance in fountains and pop bottles of champagne on Tiktok in Chicago and New York.

Then came January 6th. My sister messaged me over chat during work “Go turn on your TV”, I watched in real time to events of January 6th. How could our country come to this? Believe me, I’ve never been a “USA USA” chanting type person, outside of the Olympics, this country has flaws, we aren’t perfect. But we have been a beacon of hope to the world – I’m afraid we’re now a beacon of the end. I always believed the notion of “Those who do not learn history are damned to repeat it” and clearly y’all missed a lot of history classes.

Yesterday, I cried.

I cried when I went to bed at around 10:30 PM EST, I wasn’t trying to look at the election results. I couldn’t, because I felt sick to my stomach. I always know the South is going to go red, there’s no helping those shithole states – I say this living in North Carolina, the first swing state to fall red. On the bright side, we did keep a democratic governor and attorney general. Still, I once had hope that North Carolina would fall blue even by the slimmest of margins, that Georgia would stay blue. But no.

I woke up around 1:11 AM, the results hadn’t been called yet, but one story was on my phone “Harris won’t address supporters” and with it a picture of a grown man, face buried in his palms, crying. The blurry faces behind him, all in tears.

I cried then as well. Face buried in my pillow, trying to stay quiet.

Some might say “It’s just 4 years” it’s not. The ramifications of what happens in these next four years are far reaching, two potential Supreme Court seats may open and with a super conservative majority. The average length of a SCOTUS position, 22.7 years. So, it’s not 4 years. Meaning that the rest of my life, I can be affected by those rules – and they will come.

I cried this morning. They aren’t the body wrecking sobs that I feel because I’m just so tired of this shit. God, not to go on the Millennial rant here but can I stop having to face these world shifting events? We lived through 9/11, The Iraq War, the Great Recession, the list goes on and on – I’m fucking tired of it.

And today, I having to come to terms with what the next four plus years will be. What I stand to lose, and I’ve already lost.

The worst part of this is the one thought that has stuck with me. It wasn’t “I need to keep fighting” it’s I’m too tired to fight. I guess, it’s best said, “They’ll never take me alive” because all I thought about was killing myself. Ending it. I’ve never had these thoughts before, not seriously. Sure I’ve been depressed before, but not to the point I haven’t been able to push away the “I want to die” thought.

It might be better if I did. I know it’s just the depression speaking, that I’ll wake up tomorrow still depressed but not wanting to die. And in a couple days, I’ll still be depressed but the anger will set it. It’s different stages of grief, maybe not in the right order and I don’t think I’ll ever come to acceptance but I’ll get somewhere.

There is another thought that is lingering behind that “I wanna kill myself” one, of “fuck around and find out” – you see, I may be fine in 4 years, certainly won’t be better but I could be fine. But those stupid fucks that voted Republican that are single incomes, living paycheck to paycheck, ohhhh they’re about to get a rude fucking awakening. And I’m going to fucking love to see it.

But for now, I need some space, some time, I’m going to cry a lot. I may not be too talkative on Discord or here.

[reasonablerodents]

Just in case it breaks your writing dry spell, there's been a terrible lack of NYE hotchreid fics, and I'm here to humbly request that you fix this with a short nye bau party/night out and everyone paired up for their nye kiss except hotch and spencer…

This is very true!!!! And somehow this DID break my writing dry spell bc I’m somehow actually happy with how this turned out???? (And okay….It’s not short)

Thank you!!!

Good Fortune (G)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Fluff, New Year’s Kisses

They’re all partnered up these days. Penelope has Kevin, Emily and JJ have been together for God knows how long, Derek’s in the early days with a woman named Savannah, and Dave? Well, he may not be officially dating anyone, but he met a woman at the bar a few hours earlier, and the two seem to be getting on very well.

That just leaves him and Spencer.

If Aaron was a braver man, he would have asked Spencer out years ago. But his head is too full of regulations and boss/employee power dynamics and- okay, the main reason he hasn’t done anything after all this time is because he’s scared. Rejection always hurt, but being rejected by Spencer would surely feel far worse than if it was from anyone else. Besides, they already had a perfectly good- albeit platonic- relationship; there was no reason to ruin it by acting inappropriately.

Aaron sneaks a glance to the left, where Spencer is stood next to him and staring into the crowded bar, one hand idly gripping a half-finished drink. He seems to be people-watching, and Aaron can’t get over how beautiful he is like this; unknowingly poised like a painting, the dim light softly illuminating the curve of his lips and angular planes of his face. Spencer’s eyes are wide and glittering, drinking in the revelry instead of his cocktail.

“Not long until midnight, pretty boy,” Derek laughs as he and Savannah pass by on their way back to the bar, playfully tapping Spencer on the shoulder to get his attention. “You’ll have to be quick if you wanna sort out a New Year’s kiss!”

Spencer makes a move as if to splutter an indignant reply, but Derek’s already turning to Aaron with a trademark smile. “You too, man. Even you’ve got to let loose a little on New Years. I’d offer my services to you both, but I’m really hoping Savannah will give me the honour tonight.”

Savannah giggles, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist. “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens come midnight- your chances might be better if you get me the drink you promised me, though.”

“Anything for you,” Derek replies, gently lifting her free hand and pressing a chaste kiss to it like a Victorian gentleman. “Forget a glass of wine, I’ll get you the whole bottle.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

With that, they depart. Aaron watches them a little wistfully as they squeeze their way through the crowd, always keeping a hand on one another. He’s nothing but happy for Derek’s budding romance, of course, but he can’t help but wish that he could have something like that as well.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

Spencer’s soft voice from his left makes him turn back around.

“No?” Aaron says, trying and failing not to think too deeply about Spencer’s lips.

“No. Relationships haven’t historically been my strong point, so there’s never been anyone around to offer me one. I suppose I could find a random person, but if someone’s going to be orally swapping bacteria with me, even for a few seconds, I’d prefer to know them a little first.”

Aaron takes a sip of his whisky. “I haven’t in a long time, so you’re not alone.”

“I know. I’ve spent the last four New Years with you,” Spencer replies matter-of-factly, before darting off on a tangent. “Did you know, kissing at midnight is actually an old Scottish tradition? Hogmanay was introduced when the Vikings invaded, and one part of the celebrations involves welcoming friends and strangers alike, which apparently involves kissing them.”

“No, I didn’t. I guess I’ve never thought about where it came from.”

“Another tradition is First-Footing, although it’s definitely not as commonly practiced around here. The first person to enter the house should be a dark-haired man to ensure good luck. He’s supposed to bring gifts with him, such as coins, coal, or whisky, it can vary slightly regionally, I think. You’d be a good first-footer, I reckon- I mean, you’ve already got the whisky.”

“And the hair, I guess.”

“Mmm. Tall, dark, and handsome.”

Aaron’s glad he hadn’t just taken another sip of his drink, because after hearing Spencer use those words to describe him, he certainly would have spat it out in shock. He can feel his cheeks growing warm, and is incredibly glad of how dark it is in the bar. Spencer's very observant though, so it’s almost certain he’s already noticed Aaron’s flustered reaction however much he tries to hide it.

Before he can work out how to reply to that, a deafening shout ripples across the room.

“Ten!”

Spencer’s not just looking at Aaron in general any more, he’s looking into his eyes. His gaze flickers downwards as the countdown continues- oh God, is Spencer looking at his lips? Aaron finds himself setting his glass down as he unconsciously inches closer, barely daring to breathe.

“Six!”

Is this going to- surely not? But Spencer’s own lips are slightly parted now, his glass abandoned as well.

“Four!”

It’s only seconds, but each one feels like eons. The countdown fades slightly as Aaron’s heartbeat fills his ears.

“One!”

Aaron takes a deep breath, and before he can even make a move, the clock strikes midnight and Spencer leans in and kisses him.

It feels exactly like the fireworks that are going off outside.

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

Apologies, but I’m about to over analyze a very old meme in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep. And I’m about to talk about the lord of the rings movies more than the books because even though I’ve read the books, I’ve watched the movies more. Also, the meme is about the movies, so leave my tired ass alone.

So I kind of hate the fellowship at 100% vs 99% strength meme because I’ve seen people talk about it seriously and I think that’s a fundamental misunderstanding of the way the characters function in the story. Like I’m sorry but if you think any single character in the fellowship is more important than the others instead of just a personal favorite, you’re just textually wrong. And this is about to get long so brace yourself. But also if you hate long things, why the fuck are you here?

Aragorn and Sam are spectacular characters that are necessary to the success of the mission but not disproportionately to the whole. Because the whole is the point. The fellowship is the point. Even Boromir, whose direct actions are arguably the least due to dying early, has long reaching effects even after his death. If Boromir was never there, things don’t go the same and may not even go as well long term. Does Aragorn even accept his role as much or as quickly if he doesn’t have Boromir’s dying breath calling him his king? I’d argue no. However I will admit that this character is the one I have the least arguments for other than ‘trust me, bro’ and ‘that’s my baby, and I’m really proud’ while exhausted.

I feel silly even pointing out what Gandalf’s impact is since he’s the reason the journey can even start to begin with. Without him, Frodo gets a weird ring from Bilbo and then dies before he’s 50 because he treats it like a random trinket and is the easiest target the Nazgûl have ever tracked. Gandalf also saves the entire fellowship from the Balrog and is the reason King Théoden becomes available as an ally instead of being God’s crustiest hindrance. In general, the intricate removal of Saruman’s direct impact requires a wizard. Also, if he’s not there, who gets that world’s greatest grandpapa mug I made?

Legolas and Gimli are married so I’m talking about them together. Beyond the fact Gimli almost becomes Galadriel’s favorite side ho, the two don’t have a ton of solo story beats in the movies. However, what they lack in specific moments they make up for by being absolute monsters on the battlefield. Aragorn can’t do most of the shit he does without my gay uncles backing him up. There are literal battles that would have failed and in a war where they’re already outnumbered and outmatched, you actually can’t afford more loss.

Merry and Pippin are eternal besties so they’re also getting talked about together. Initially they’re treated as comic relief and at times even a hindrance in the movies, but they do step up. The Ents go to war because of Merry and Pippin. And the Ents are necessary for dealing with Isengard. Take them out and the war still has an orc factory that can just overwhelm the war with numbers alone. They also have direct impacts on Gondor and Rohan in ways I’m too tired to get into. Also, Pippin sings like an angel even when a gross old man is eating in grossest way possible. Talent. He has the range.

And now we’re down to the main crux of serious arguments I’ve seen. Sam and Frodo. Both of them ring bearers. Is Sam way more important than Frodo? Absolute not.

So Sam is arguably an amazing character, but don’t get it confused. Sam would have never volunteered to take the ring to Mordor, didn’t actually handle the ring’s direct influence well, and also would have gotten rid of Gollum.

Because psych!!! This next part is actually about how Gollum, Frodo, and Sam are three sides to a triangle you can’t remove any part of lest it falls apart completely! Take that, M Night Shyamalan, there’s a new mediocre and fully telegraphed twist in town!!!

Frodo has the initial willingness to take the ring to be destroyed and endures the ring better than literally anyone else. Basically everyone else either gives unhinged talks about what they’d do with the power before they ever touch it or they touch it for 10 seconds and go full Rick Astley. Frodo carries it for days and even wears it a few times before he sees Galadriel and is still capable of trying to give it away. That in itself is extraordinary and cannot be understated. Like that’s the willpower of a god. Put some respect on that.

Frodo, because of his connection to the ring and awareness of its impact, desperately wants to believe Gollum can be saved. After all, that means that he can be saved, and so he does everything in his power to keep Gollum around and get him better. This means they have a guide and when it comes down to it, the reason the ring is destroyed at all. Because Gollum is the one to ultimately, if by accident, destroy the ring. You need Frodo to carry the ring and get Gollum there, you need Sam to get Frodo there, and you need Gollum to destroy it.

And another plot twist that’s not a twist at all at all, but while there’s no part of the fellowship that you can remove and still win, the fellowship itself cannot succeed without 1246885356 other moving parts. Elrond, Arwen, Galadriel, Théoden, Éomer, Éowyn, Faramir, Treebeard, Grima fucking Wormtongue, and dozens of others, some who don’t even get directly named in the trilogy, are all important. They’re all necessary. And there are even more moving parts in the books. Pour one out for my very good friend, Forest God Tom Bombadil. He’s not dead, I just think him and his trees would like a drink.

The point of the whole goddamn thing is that no one can do this mission alone. None of them. Yeah, not even Sam or Aragorn. It’s a fellowship and it’s about that connection and that community. There are themes.

[cainnleacghlovers]

Honey - MØ

Paring: Martin Ødeagaard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arsenal have just been trashed by City, and all Martin wants to do is love on you. And who are you to deny your boy some cuddles and a bit of an old school recipe.

Warnings: None pure fluff!

Request: “Hi! may i request an imagine about reader taking care of Martin after he loses a match? just giving him attention, massaging him, cute fluffy things :) hope you like the idea 🥺”

⤥ I loved writing this!! I hope this is okay for you <3

As you sat at the table, the essay on Alexander the Great you were meant to be writing, was forgotten. Instead, your eyes were glued to the tv.

Why? A new show you just started and had to binge? Life changing news? No, and no.

Arsenal vs Man City.

You did try to watch the other players, but your eyes unconsciously followed Number 8.

As you watched the game become increasingly City’s, you could see Martin’s normal cool and calamity completely evaporate.

He was fumbling on balls he could dribble in his sleep, he was making dodgy crosses into the box, one’s that didn’t find the boot of a forward.

“Not a fricking forward on the entire pitch!” You exclaimed, as yet another cross by Martin was out over the goal line, and cleared for a goal kick.

As Emerson passed the ball, and it found the feet of Haaland, a boy you were actually quite fond of.

Him and Martin are actually teammates for the Norwegian national team, and he genuinely was a lovely boy.

But in this moment, you’d never hated anyone more.

“Get that frigging ball off of Haaland or god help me, i’ll bust the balls of all of you.” You said, hands finding your hair as he calmly taps the ball in.

What’s this, his 300th goal of the season?

As the match ended, and Jack Grealish scored, or Greasy as you liked to call him, you actually turned the tv off.

“If I wanted to watch something depressing, I’d have put the bloody news on!” You said, before the tv flashed off, you made sure to put both fingers up at the tv.

A habit you’d tried to break.

If something was pissing you off, you flipped it off. The tv was no exception.

“Fuck off you fricking oil laundering club.” You scoffed, getting up.

“And your kits ugly.”

—

Deciding to pop Martin a message, you reached for your phone. You knew he was going to be devastated by the result.

Martin was the most selfless person you’d ever met. He did everything for everyone, and took the burden of everything. He’d blame himself for this loss.

‘Martin there were 10 other boys on that pitch, you can’t blame yourself.’ You’d say, like routine when they lost. ‘And I should’ve done something about them.’ Martin would reply, like clockwork.

Typing a quick message, you hit send.

As you looked through the cupboards of your kitchen, you heard ‘strip that down’ playing from your phone.

You smiled lightly at the inside joke between you and Martin. He found the Liam Payne video, hilarious, and you set it as your alarm to ‘annoy’ him, but really, you just wanted to hear his laugh.

By the way, it’s the most beautiful sound, like ever.

Unlocking your phone, you read his reply.

You smiled at the message as you read it. Only Martin, who’d just lost a game, and would soon, if he wasn’t already, dealing with the hundreds of negative comments he’d get, ask you if you needed anything.

You quickly typed a reply, as you reached for the flour.

As you searched the cupboard for your recipe book, one that your mum had given you when you moved into your own first Uni apartment. Finding the book, you looked for the pink tag.

Aha! Everything brownies.

It’s something you and your brother had concocted one year after Christmas, and it became a family tradition. Every single piece of chocolate went into that mixture. It was pure heaven.

When you’d first met Martins parents, you’d made them. And ever since, they’ve been a favourite of his.

As you began to melt chocolate and butter over the hob, you heard the familiar sound of ‘strip that down’.

Looking at your phone, you read the message Martin had sent you, and sent a quick reply back.

Mixing the melted chocolate with the beated eggs and sugar, you mixed it with the flour as you poured the mixture out onto a baking sheet. Leaving half of it.

This is where the fun began.

Scouting the cupboards, you took out every piece of chocolate you had.

Kitkats, M&M’s, Caramel Buttons, Smarties, Maltesters, and Crunchies.

Satisfied with the amount of chocolate, you reached for your secret ingredient. Honey.

Martin could never figure out what the secret ingredient was, and you’d never tell him.

He’d guessed everything. Maple syrup, vanilla extract. But he just couldn’t get it.

Pouring the rest of the mixture over the brownies, you placed them in the oven. Forgetting a timer, they’d be done when they’d be done.

—

Putting a towel over the heater in the bathroom, you made sure he had enough shampoo. You headed into the bedroom to change the sheets.

You’d explained to him Thursday night. Shaving legs, tanning, and new bed sheets. He wasn’t convinced, saying Thursdays were just ‘filler days’. But once you’d made him shower (He didn’t need to shave his legs, and boy were you jealous. You literally had more hair on your leg than he did.) and got into bed with new sheets, he completely understood where you were coming from.

—

Checking the water heater was on, you checked the brownies and decided they were good enough. As Martin let you know he’d be home in about five minutes, you quickly ran to unlock the door, knowing that his hands would be full.

You searched the freezer for ice cream, and eventually found some, scooping some onto a plate with the brownie, that was still warm. As you did, you heard the key in the door, and quickly ran to it, so he didn’t lock himself out.

You opened the door, and there stood the beautiful boy you called your boyfriend.

His blonde hair was every which way, and he didn’t even have his shoes tied properly. One leg of his trousers was up at the knee, and if his blue eyes weren’t so sad, you’d have laughed at him. He gave you a watery smile, before the door closed and he collapsed into your arms.

“Martin you’re okay.” You soothed, running your fingers through his hair, as he hid his face in your shoulder. The both of you still standing at the door.

“I let everyone down.” He mumbled, his voice shaking with sadness as you felt your heart break.

“No no. You haven’t let anyone down honey. Not a single person.” You said as you calmed him, pulling him towards the sofa.

He wouldn’t meet your eye, and it broke your heart that he was embarrassed.

“Martin.” You said softly, prompting him to look at you.

His sad eyes met yours, and you yourself nearly burst out crying.

“Please listen to me.” You said, as you inched closer to him, taking his cheeks between your hands as you rubbed small circles on them. His hands rested on your thighs, as he craved your warmth.

“You seriously don’t know how talented you are, and it breaks my heart that you think one bad game defines you as a player. Martin, it doesn’t. Okay?!”

He sniffed, as his head fell into your chest, and your hands continued in his hair.

“I feel like I could’ve done more-” You put your finger over his lips.

“Shut up.” You said, smirking slightly at him. You hoped he understood the humorous route you were taking here.

Your heart skipped a beat when he smiled.

“You’re telling me to shut u-” You didn’t even let him finish this time.

“Shut up.” You repeated, as a tired laugh left his lips.

“N-” He began, before you covered your ears with your hands.

“Lalala! Sorry Martin honey, where you saying something? Wait, let me lip read. Oh! You’re saying you’re a talented player, and it’s okay to not score like 6000 goals every match! I totally agree!” You joked, making him laugh as he pulled your hands away from your ears and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on them.

“Say it.” You teased, poking him in the side.

He shook his head, clearly flustered. He still, after 4 years, wasn’t used to people complimenting him genuinely.

“Say it. Say it.” You chanted, as you began to poke his sides. He moved away from you as he laughed.

“Don’t make me fight you Ødegaard, because I will do it. I’ll go full-” You stopped to think of a boxer, but couldn’t. He laughed at you, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“When are we fighting?” He joked along.

“Right now. Unless you’re too scared.” You continued with the banter.

“Please. I’m going to squash you as much as City did to us.” He smiled weakly at the joke.

His strong thighs, which were tense from the game, rested on either side of your waist as he leaned over you. His hands snaking up your body to find your armpits. Before you could even think, he began to tickle under your arms.

As his hair stuck to his forehead, you kicked at his legs as you strangled to breathe from the amount of laughing you were doing.

“Martin, I will literally kick you in the balls.” You managed to breathe out, as his laughter stopped and he looked you in the eye, his hands finding your thighs.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said, his eyes moving between his crotch and your foot.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“You’d miss them too much.” He smirked.

“Hmm true enough.” You shrugged, as he attacked your beck with soft, warm kisses and you sighed in content as you played softly with his hair.

“Do you want a brownie?” You whispered, and his eyes instantly met yours.

“I think I just had an orgasm at the thought of your brownies.” Martin replied, making you laugh.

“Too bad I didn’t make any though. It was a rhetorical question.” You joked, getting up, with Martin entangling his hand with yours.

You picked up the bowl, and handed it to him, and smiled sheepishly as his stare intimidated you.

Not that what he done scared you, it was just, no one had ever looked at you like you were there everything, like if they lost you, there heart would beat a little slower, and there eyes would see a little less colour.

“You, my love, my baby, my darling, are bloody amazing.” Martin punctuated, kissing you with every word. You laughed at the way he said ‘bloody.’

He insisted on learning your slang, he called it the ‘Y/N Studies.’ He joked it was the only thing he’d ever got an A in.

Lies, he was a goody two shoes at school.

—

As you flicked through the tv, heart racing a bit when you heard the bathroom door open and Martin stood there with a pair of shorts on and his wet hair clinging to his forehead.

He stalked over to the bed, and Martin being Martin, jumped on top of you.

“Martin I cant breathe!” You struggled, as his body weight crushed yours.

“Just keep breathing and breathing!” He sung, and you laughed. Martin loved to love you, and that meant all of your interests. So, he learnt the songs you sung in the shower, one being ‘Breathing’ by Ariana Grande.

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” You whined, as you shoved him off of you.

“Don’t objectify my ass. It has feelings too.” He pouted, as he moved in closer to you, his head resting upon your chest.

Your hands moved through his wet hair. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d have scolded you for making his hair ‘greasy’ but he didn’t have the energy.

“I’m sorry if I let you down.” He whispered against your chest, as you felt his arms grip your waist.

“Martin baby, you let no one down. You ate today.”

You hoped he’d get the joke of ‘ate’ and ‘8’, ad luckily he did, and you felt the vibrations of his laughter against your chest, contrasting the slow beating of your heart. One that beat for him.

As Martin slowly began to close his eyes, you bit your lip, debating whether you should say it.

“Martin.” You said lightly.

“Hmm.” He replied groggily.

“It’s honey.” You said, a smile on your face as he realised what you’d said. He gasped, and looked up at you,

“That’s almost as bad as plankton getting the Crabby Patty Formula.”

God, you loved Martin Ødegaard, all of him. Even his silly little comments and bursting into song.

He was your number 8, your person, your boy.

Kind of disappears… whoops but i’m back babyyyy. Getting through some Ødy requests because our blonde barbie deserves more recognition! Hope you enjoyed!!

[film-score-simp]

OKAY FOOLS HOW YALL DOING IM BACK AFTER BEING DEAD FOR LIKE MONTHS-

See, I had a Thought which the Merlin fandom might be interested in. Especially the fanfic writers.

I was browsing Pinterest, as you do, and stumbled across a few tumblr posts instead of actually looking on the site… again, as you do.

And I came to a fun idea.

So y’know how with some pieces of fantasy media they go ‘oh with the amount of stupidity here this is totally a D&D game’?

Well… that, but Merlin.

Like we already have scenes that would totally fit the bill of a D&D game. The whole scene with old Merlin and the knights with the stepping stool onto the horse is just so unbelievably D&D, and I can imagine the scene with the “..reading poetry.” as just real bad persuasion/deception rolls from both Merlin AND Arthur.

Just imagine the chaos.

Here are my personal headcanons for their classes, but feel free to debate about it:

Merlin: Sorcerer. This man is too much of an idiot to be a wizard (though he DOES get hurt enough to be one), and I reckon being a wild magic sorcerer would totally fit the bill. He’s powerful, but hijinks must ensue- thus, the wild magic. Or perhaps not. People might assume it’s wild magic and turns out it’s just Merlin thinking he’s funny.

Arthur: Bard. Immediately. He’s got paladin energy as in like the ‘Chosen One’ and also he’s a knight, but he’s so stupid and also charismatic that he just gives bard to me. Like he’s so stupid and charismatic with literally everything, that Merlin ended up liking him. Like this man is a himbo that dresses brightly.

Morgana: Absolutely a warlock. She would have so much fun with eldritch blast, and being weird and spooky totally fits her vibe later in the series. She would probably be the one to sometimes have the braincell in the party and use her magic responsibly… but also eldritch blast. You gotta use eldritch blast-

Mordred: I don’t think he has chill enough vibes for the druid stereotype, but he definitely could be a druid. Giving funky nature powers to this kid would really be a hilarious idea. Like imagine Mordred with wild shape. I also think he has the possibility of being the Dionysus kind of druid… y’know, the greek god who turned people into dolphins just because? Yeah, him.

Gwaine: Barbarian. Or fighter. He may be a knight, sure, but with the amount of bar brawls he gets into? Absolutely. The fool definitely would fist fight someone in a dark alleyway at 2AM, it’s just what he’s like. He likes to hit people and drink alcohol- it just fits his whole MO.

Percival: Also a barbarian. His entire thing is strength, and the ‘little man’ comment just screams of a man with high intimidation. He may be a gentle giant and not going for the whole stereotype of angry rage beast, but this guy can totally scare without it.

Lancelot: Lancelot is a paladin. He’s the very epitome of ‘Good Boy.’ This guy is such a Righteous knight and just a generally cool person that I think that a god straight up WOULD get in contact to have him fight for the forces of good. I love this man so much. I also love paladins. Perfect combo.

Elyan: Elyan’s a cleric. He’s caring and loyal, as well as not bullying Merlin regularly. He’s also pretty cunning so possibly rogue there as well? I’d be more inclined to lean towards cleric the most though, cause he’s one of the most chill knights and also balances out the chaos of Gwaine and Percival as a duo… they’re nuts-

Leon: Also a paladin. Less of a ‘pure and true soul’ guy like Lancelot, but more of a ‘stands for what’s right and upholds the law’ kind of paladin. Like he’s totally a follower of chivalry with all the traditional ways of doing things- always respectful and polite but just kinda a little at arms length.

Guinevere: Stereotypical druid. Totally a tree-hugger and loves plants. Also she gets to be a Disney princess now and talk to animals in forests. Living out her best life in the forest with her whole cottagecore aesthetic. Even with her becoming queen, she’s totally still a druid. Albeit a royal one now.

Gaius: Oh he’s so gonna be an artificer. But specifically an alchemist artificer. He can make healing potions and mix weird medicines together, sure, but jesus christ the old man gets into just as many shenanigans as the main group. I mean, the whole possession fiasco with the goblin is enough proof for that-

(And before anyone tells me a character’s missing, it’s been a while since I watched the series, I’m trying my best hhhh-)

[throwdownyourheart]

Howdy y’all! Figured I oughta pin a post to get acquainted.

My name’s Caleb, but you can call me dad. 🤠

Leatherworker, writer, musician, and notorious homosexual.

If you wanna talk to me, my DMs and ask box are always open! Always love when y’all reach out. Not sure how to break the ice? Ask what projects I’m working on, or what song I’ve got on repeat.

I use tags to organize my posts, and you can take a gander at the archive if you want to see more of something particular. These are a few tags you’ll run into the most:

#we've always been around is all my queer shit. Being queer ain’t new, after all — we’ve always been here.

#all good things are wild and free is for all the wild places that make me feel most at home. I’d rather be out there than anywhere else, and these remind me that the world is much bigger than the daily grind.

#life in color is all about Black history, Black joy, Black struggle, and most importantly, the richness and diversity of Black lives.

#lubbock texas is where you’ll find all my horny-on-main posts; it’s been a small way that I’ve worked through/continue to work through my repressive fundamentalist growing-up years. It comes from an old Butch Hancock quote that says “Life in Lubbock, Texas, taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in Hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on Earth and you should save it for someone you love.” If you wanna know what cranks my engine, just take a look at this tag. (May or may not have an alt that’s a little more down and dirty. My DMs are open, boys.)

#me is all the pictures of my ugly mug. It’s also where you’ll find all my thirst traps.

#answered asks is pretty self-explanatory. You submit an anonymous ask and wanna see if I answered it? You’ll find it here.

#personal as hell is a cutaway cross-section of how my brain works, the things that matter most to me, or the things that felt like they were written specifically for me about my life.

#death is all the things that remind me how very very short and how very very precious our time here is. Everybody we love will die, and none of us get out of this world alive. These are little reminders to live a good life, and hopes to die a good death.

#dog bless america is all about man’s best friends and most trusty partners.

#chairman meow is for the other guys — cats are a harder sell on the utility of man in their lives, sure, but none of ‘em ever showed the cops where your weed’s at.

#misuse of religion is a catch-all for religion in general, but more often about the suffering and joy and home I was made to bear in Christianity. It’s been a way for me to make peace with my past and the fundamentalism I was raised in. It helps me engage with the faith I left, and reinterpret the 23 years I spent with my life centered around a Jesus I don’t believe in anymore.

#cowboys and #all the pretty little horses because y’all know what I’m about.

#pov: i’m telling you what a good boy you are is for when you need a father figure to help work out your daddy issues.