#moped-style seat

[entertainment-and-you]

Lyric Graffiti X: The Future of Urban Commuting

In a recent showcase, the Lyric Graffiti X has been introduced as the latest innovation in electric bikes, promising to revolutionize urban commuting. This high-performance e-bike boasts a robust 6061 aluminum frame and is equipped with 16-inch moto rims, CST dual sport moto tires, and a moto tube for enhanced durability and performance. The bike features the Mura MT5 four-piston hydraulic disc…

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

A part two for Changes was requested by @ali-r3n 💞 In part one the reader changes her style to be more like Chrissy's since Eddie has a crush on her.

She hopes this will make Eddie notice her but he doesn't want her to change herself for him and she's crushed to find out that he's not interested in her like that.

The first part of this fic was written so long ago and my writing style has changed a lot 💞

Now that you're all caught up here's the summary for part two;

After realising that Eddie will never be interested in you, you decide it's time to move on. There's a new guy at school called Jenson, he's a metalhead like Eddie and very much your type...

Angst, jealous Eddie, Eddie wakes up and smells the roses, Mutual pining, fluff. Mdni.

💌💞

After your humiliating experience with Eddie you do your best to avoid him. He didn't even want you when you dressed like Chrissy because she was his dream girl. Not you.

You had to accept that you would never ever be his type. Just his friend. His buddy.

Robin met you after school and she could tell by your face that you're big plan to get Eddie to notice you had gone out of the window. Steve watches you concerned as you wipe the make up of you face and attempt not to cry.

"Steve can we stop off for some ice cream. I think she needs it" Robin gestures to you and Steve nods.

"Ice cream and movie night. Does that sound good honey?" You nod and feel extremely grateful that you have such amazing friends besides Eddie.

You would eat ice cream and mope for a while and then you would finally try and get over Eddie. It was better this way, you couldn't stand the thought of him feeling pity for you because he didn't feel the same.

It would ruin your friendship and you never wanted that to happen.

...

Things are awkward with Eddie. Extremely awkward. You don't know what to say to him and he's being overly nice and just not himself with you.

Fuck, you wish you didn't say anything, didn't go ahead with your stupid plan in the first place.

Then to make matters worse principal Higgins calls you into his office. Grudgingly you make your way there and when you enter the office he's talking to a new student that you had never seen before.

He was tall, wild curls of long blonde hair and big brown eyes, he was wearing a Black Sabbath t shirt and leather jacket. Ripped black jeans and black boots. He's glaring at Higgins.

"I don't need a babysitter dude" the principal ignores this mysterious boy and gestures to you.

"Yn will be your guide around school. Your buddy while you settle in. You've been here for two weeks and you've barely made any effort to include yourself in anything Mr Jenson"

Jenson flips Principal Higgins the bird when he's not looking and you stiffle a giggle. He winks at you and you feel your body heat up, all the way to your toes.

"Fine. Lead the way pretty lady" he gestures to you and opens the door.

Hey maybe school won't be so bad after all?

"You can join me and my friends at lunch. We sit at the our own table, the Hellfire table. We play Dungeons and Dragons" you explain and he nods along as he follows you to the cafeteria.

Quickly you explain to the boys about what the principal asked you to do.

"Jenson is new and he needs some friends, people to show him around and get him settled" Eddie who's immediately suspicious of new students, studies Jenson. His big brown eyes sweeping over him and narrowing.

You do your best to explain who everyone is and point out Chrissy and the cheerleaders, you feel that pang in your chest about Eddie again.

Jenson scoffs and turns to you. "I'm not interested in the cheerleaders. I'm interested in you, beautiful"

Wait what? You nearly choke on your can of soda and meet Jenson's eyes.

"Me?" he nods and leans closer to you, so close you can smell his spicy cologne. "Wait, what was I talking about again?" You're kinda dazed by him if you're being honest.

He smirks then leans back in his seat.

"I think I like this table" his gaze stays on you and you hear Eddie mutter something under his breath.

"This table is only for Hellfire members" Eddie's voice is tight and full of dislike. Jenson pouts and turns to you.

"You'll sit with me this week yeah? Help me get settled and all?" You nod and avoid Eddie's livid gaze.

Things will be okay after all...right?

💞

For the next week you accompany Jenson at his table. Eddie isn't happy about this.

"Eddie he's not a Hellfire member, unless you want to see if he's any good at d&d" you suggest and Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

"I don't want him in Hellfire" he pouts and it's kinda adorable. Fuck, no it's not adorable, you're trying to get over this stupid crush.

"Not even for me? He's kinda dreamy" Eddie stills at this and you look away from his fierce gaze. What's his problem anyway? Feeling brave you point out to him that you finding Jenson dreamy is a good thing.

"Things have been weird between us since...well since the other week. You made your feelings clear and I need to move on. We can still be friends and there will be no awkward tension or anything like that" Eddie looks like he's about to say something else but Jenson shows up and the conversation stalls.

"Hey princess" Okay this time Eddie definitely does stiffen and his eyes flash as they turn to Jenson.

"I call her princess, no one else does dude" Jenson snorts and claps Eddie on the shoulder.

"You can't own a name dude. Anyway she likes it when I call her princess. Don't you honey?" Oh shit. You look between the two of them and feel torn. Eddie was your friend and Jenson well maybe someday when you were over Eddie he could be more than your friend?

"Shouldn't you be chasing that cheerleader you like Munson... leave Princess to me" Jenson winks at Eddie.

Your stomach sinks as Jenson goes to wait for you at a table. How could you forget Eddie mooning over Chrissy? It hardens your resolve.

"It's just a name Eddie. Why do you care so much anyway?" you ask him and he doesn't answer. Sighing you head over to Jenson and the knot in your stomach tightens even more.

💞

Eddie is quieter than normal during today's lunch. Dustin can sense something is wrong with him but Eddie's moods could be unpredictable and he didn't want to cause his hero anymore upset.

He didn't like seeing Eddie like this though, he had a funny feeling it was to do with the blonde metalhead currently taking up all of your attention.

Doesn't Eddie notice the way your gaze still strays to him? Don't you notice the longing way Eddie gazes at you?

Then again did Eddie even realise the way he looked at you? Why were the two of you such pining idiots?

Jason who is passing the Hellfire table nudges Eddie and smirks, "Aww freak, looks like you're not the apple of her eye anymore"

Shit. If looks could kill Jason would be dead. Eddie flips him off and Jason walks away laughing.

"Asshole" he huffs and Mike chuckles. "He's right though Eddie. She definitely has a type though doesn't she?" If possible Eddie's eyes narrow even more yet Mike doesn't notice.

Dude, stop talking Dustin begs but Mike carries on oblivious. "If you didn't spend so long pining over Chrissy then you wouldn't have lost your chance dude. It sucks, I'm sorry" Eddie deflates and whispers quietly.

"Do you really think I don't have a chance anymore?"Mike shrugs and Dustin tries to give him a hopeful smile but it doesn't seem to help Eddie who settles back in his chair with a glum expression on his face.

He watches you and Jenson and sighs. "you're right Wheeler. I wasted my time pining over the wrong girl"

💞💞

Even with Jenson being sweet and obviously interested your stupid traitor heart still aches for Eddie.

Robin who likes everyone has her reservations about Jenson. "I saw him flirting with some other girl yesterday, I think he's messing with a lot of girls hearts"

The thought of Jenson doing this should hurt you but it doesn't. Fuck. This was hopeless. How would you ever get over Eddie if you couldn't open your heart to someone else.

"Munson was in here yesterday. I mentioned that Jenson dude and he kinda ranted a bit" Steve says as he stocks the video tapes on the shelves.

"He's been weird with Jenson since I started hanging out with him"

Robin exchanges a knowing look with Steve and they both say at the same time. "He's jealous"

Hope briefly encompasses you then deflates. Eddie being jealous of Jenson? That was ridiculous. Plus Eddie still liked Chrissy didn't he?

"No he's not" you shake your head adamantly but there's no changing Steve's mind.

"Honey, I'm a guy and I know when a guy is jealous. Munson is jealous of this Jenson guy. He's another metalhead honing in on his girl and Eddie is like a feral raccoon warning him off"

A feral raccoon you stifle a smile at Steve's description of Eddie. Speaking of Eddie he comes into the store with Chrissy. Oh.

Suddenly Steve's thoughts seem completely wild and far fetched. See. You try to communicate with Steve that he's completely wrong.

"I really think you should just ask Eddie" Chrissy replies to Eddie and you wonder what. Was he going to ask Chrissy out? You don't want to stick around for that.

You gather your things at the same time Eddie spots you and freezes. Chrissy smiles at you warmly and you return it even though your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest.

"Dude, did you hear that Jenson was in here wanting to ask princess out" Steve suddenly pipes up, completely out of the blue and Eddie's eyes widen as they meet yours.

Jenson hasn't asked you out. If Steve was trying to make Eddie jealous then it wasn't going to happen, you're kinda tired of hoping for something that wasn't meant to be.

"I'll see you tomorrow, gotta get home and cram for this biology test" you hurry out of the store and tj your car.

Blasting out Black Sabbath helps clear your thoughts and you're relatively more relaxed as you get home.

There's the telltale sign of Eddie's van and you nearly jump out of your skin when it comes careening around the corner.

Eddie parks the van and jumps out. His eyes are wild and he jogs over to you still looking panicked.

"Don't date him" he says breathlessly and you pause unsure if you've heard him right. Did he seriously rush all of the way here to say this and why?

"Excuse me?" What the hell was going on?

"Don't date him. He's not right for you, he's egotistical and smarmy and...and he won't treat you right or love you the way you should be loved" you raise your eyebrow and when you speak your voice comes out all shaky.

"And how should I be loved Eddie?" He softens when he gazes at you and reaches out to caress your cheek.

"Like you're everything. No other girl compares to you and you're the best thing that's ever happened to a guy. Like you're the one and you always have been"

A small part of your anger comes roaring back and you groan exasperated. "Eddie. I practically told you I was in love with you. I have been for years and you basically rejected me and now that someone else shows interest in me you get a clue!"

He shrugs sheepishly and nods, "Robin said I was the world's biggest dingus. I fucked up okay? I know that and I know that it was the shittiest time to realise how I feel but I'm begging you, give me a shot and I'll never break your heart again. I promise you that"

You've always wanted to hear him say these words and you're torn between wanting to kiss him or yell at him some more.

"What about Chrissy?"

"Chrissy was a dumb crush, even if she was interested I don't care. I'm over that. Jenson helped me see what's been in front of me all along... It's you. It's always been you"

Well damn. You're still confused though because didn't he just come to Family Video with Chrissy and she was telling him just to ask someone something.

As if Eddie reads your mind he begins to explain. "I ran into Chrissy when I was heading to Family Video and she mentioned I was unusually quiet and everything about you poured out. She was telling me to just ask you out when we were heading into the store and then I saw you and I choked"

You bite back a smile and move closer to him, the need to kiss him feels a little overwhelming now.

"You really are an idiot Eddie but you're my idiot" you add affectionately and he kisses you. It leaves you momentarily stunned at how amazing it feels but then you're kissing him back.

When the two of you break apart you're both breathless, eyes shining and happiness written all over your faces.

"Shit, uh I was thinking maybe I could take you on a date. Maybe we could go to Lovers Lake and camp out for a little bit. Thought it would be romantic sweetheart"

"It's a date" you press another kiss to his lips and head into his van leaving a dazed and smug Eddie strutting to the van once he realised what you said.

💞

[april-first]

Guide to the Bravern Flower Shop Verse

Posting this for archiving purposes and for future/new fans who won't experience any of this live (or maybe ever, if Twitter breaks) just encounter it as older, out of context fanart on Pixiv or social media.

So. If you’ve ever looked up Japanese Bravern fanart (or fanfic) on either Pixiv or Twitter you must have stumbled upon a certain flowershop AU. It’s official (made and named by the staff, got referred to as such in the 2nd talkshow apparently) and it’s called 花屋バース. Details with links under the cut!

The contributors

Kamokamen, original/main character designer (Twitter @ sangsilnoh)

Oobari Masami, director (Twitter @ G1_BARI)

Ura Ryuuta, chief animation director (Twitter @ matatabeat)

The origins

"happy new episode release" bonus arts by the main character designer

and their two Yotsuba&! joke tweets:

Isami works at a flower shop called Brave Flower

Smith is the single father of the "mysterious girl" Lulu who is in kindergarten

This spiraled into a whole AU that has Actual Lore because the staff kept adding to it.

My main sources were 2 different tweet compilations made by Japanese fans and the very broken Twitter search. I got into the fandom when Episode 9 aired (before that I was just watching the show weekly and nothing else) so backsourcing all of this was not easy, and unfortunately I can’t guarantee this post has every relevant tweet. For example I found nothing about Smith’s job. It might exist, it might not, who knows. But the staff was very clear that they just wanted everyone to have fun coming up with ideas when they were tweeting about Bravern-the-character.

Isami & Bravern

- Isami and Bravern drive a motorcycle with a sidecar (ART!) called Brave Thunder

- according to the director Bravern wears a helmet

- Bravern exists in that miniature form which was designed by the director, completely unexplained (first appearance of "easy-to-draw Bravern-kun" | official plushie version which he brought to the 3rd talkshow | non-flowershop AU maid uniform update! also designed by him | "bunny day" update)

(T/N: this is not actual canon, but in the Animedia (May issue) interview’s Q&A section the director said Isami has the impression of someone who has a much older brother who passed away when he was young. JP fandom said nope this is the happy AU so he’s alive)

Smith & Lulu

- Smith and Lulu drive a "granny bike" called Spar Kaiser

- Lulu's seat is a child bike seat dubbed "co-pilot seat"

(T/N: answering a fan’s question, the character designer who designed Smith’s weird shirts once tweeted he’s probably using a translator app to scan the text on them.)

Other characters

- as far as I know there’s no "official" flowershop AU version of Superbia

- some time ago the director made a miniature design for him as well, but people usually draw Superbia in a humanoid form in this AU which was designed by the character designer

(T/N: not flowershop AU related, but Superbia speaks in Hiroshima dialect.)

- Miyu has a moped (a modified old Honda Super Cub) and she rides around town with Hibiki to get McDonald’s

(T/N: also not flowershop AU related, but Hibiki considers Isami a younger brother, according to the 3rd talkshow reports.)

- Satake was Isami's homeroom teacher and he was the one who taught him how to properly ride a motorcycle

- it was due to Satake’s influence that Isami chose an American-style Japanese bike which he bought secondhand for cheap for the fun of repairing and customizing it

(T/N: the tweet linked above is from March, but at the 3rd staff talkshow we learned that Satake’s bike in canon is a Honda CBR250RR. At the 2nd talkshow the staff said he gives off the impression of being a good cook, and the director shared he must be single because of the bike & red jacket combo.)

ADD ALT TEXT if you share this on other sites as screenshots. I genuinely can't be assed to care about credit, but I care a lot about accessibility.

I’m collecting the interviews and talkshow fan reports, and I'm also reading Lulu’s spinoff novel so eventually I’ll post summaries of those. (Unfortunately I don’t have time to do more than summaries.) In the meantime you guys could MTL this collab café report/article if you're interested! (I checked googletranslate and it’s readable)

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

The Pink Moon

Summary: Reader's anxious attachment style gets in the way of her enjoying the full moon.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: angst, somewhat hurt to comfort

Word count: 1.3k

The night is chilly and humid. You wrap yourself in a blanket while watching your chunks of Amethyst and Rose Quartz charge in the moonlight. You stare at them like they’ll hop off the ledge when you look away. Just as fast, you find yourself distracted by the moon behind them, glowing softly against the clear, dark sky.

Spencer comes to mind. You remember (once again) that it’s been nearly 13 hours, and you’ve barely heard from him. The Pink Moon is about relationships; you hoped he would spend time with you tonight for that reason alone, even though you were definitely not in a relationship. Instead, the crisp wind that grazes the back of your neck reminds you that he’s not here; no one is here tonight to keep you warm.

Your Tarot deck is in front of you. It seems easy to start a reading. But the idea of them saying anything about Spencer, explicitly calling you out for being such a lovesick fool so quickly, is something you know you couldn't handle right now.

You started seeing each other a couple of weeks ago after Penelope introduced you. You were shocked that the young genius at the FBI was easy to talk to. You had been in constant communication since he asked you to dinner after work just days later. His gentle gestures and calm tone were something you were not used to.

Now, he’s in Richmond working on a triple homicide case, as he said on the phone this morning. He’s likely surrounded by people who need his help. And you mope while wondering if that’s the last phone call you'll get from him. You're worried, actually expecting the case to be solved, the killer to be locked away, and Spencer to get home safely and not even bother to tell you.

Your list of past relationships is short. You could recall three if being together for a month counted. When your exes learned about your witchy tendencies at the start, they were for it. They were friendly when they asked about the Tarot and the significance of different colored candles on your altar. But it would fizzle out one way or another, usually after discovering your practices did not follow into the bedroom. Text messages and phone calls were then hours apart until they stopped altogether. And you were left to pick up the pieces again.

~ ~ ~

Science and behavior were some of Spencer's passions. He spoke about what he does for work and how he’s assigned to analyze things from a killer’s journals to how they present bodies upon being found. You wondered for a minute if you were in over your head when you agreed to dinner; and if such a logic-based personality could entertain your interests and beliefs. 

As you spoke, though, Spencer leaned in to listen, fingers laced under his chin, not even looking away. Like your exes, he admitted he didn’t know much about Tarot. “Oh, bullshit,” you remember saying.

“What?” He laughed.

“I’ve got insider information.” You replied while tapping your temple. “Penelope said you knew everything. She said she even quizzed you on the cards. You didn’t miss one.”

“Well, that’s true —”

“Aha!” You point.

Spencer had to hold back another laugh. “But I couldn’t tell you what they mean in sequence. Like, during an actual… reading. I think that’s the lingo. Garcia taps into something I simply can’t.”

“Hm,” You lean back in your seat. “So, is this a sign to do a reading for you in the future?”

Spencer pursed his lips. “Perhaps.”

The rest of the night took place in a nearby park, where you both stood under a tree, and Spencer gave you what was equivalent to a lecture on constellations and how they had been a storytelling method as far back as the ancient Greeks. You lapped up the lesson, watching his hands move and his fingers crook as information flowed out of him with ease. It was like he was a textbook in a corduroy jacket. It only reinforced that he was being himself from the moment you met. And you liked that about him.

The first kiss came shortly after, but it wasn't easy. You made what Penelope would later call “embarrassingly obvious" flirting attempts that Spencer was not understanding. You dropped it until he walked you to your apartment door. This was the first time the entire night that silence hung awkwardly between you. You tried once again and hugged him goodnight. You attempted to pull away, but his arms were still wrapped around you, not moving. You didn’t question, simply held on, keeping your arms where they were for another two, three, four seconds. 

When Spencer let go, you saw his smile was different. It was lazy, and his eyes were darker when he finally asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Your response, however, could be seen as less than polite. Instead of an enthusiastic yes, you poked his chest, an acrylic nail right into the corduroy. Despite moving away from it slightly, his arms around your waist helped you move along with him.

“Was I not obvious enough in the last hour?”

He raised his brows in genuine surprise. “Wait, no!” The gentleness of his demeanor shined again when you admitted what you wanted. And “Oh, thank God” was all he said before his hands rose to enclose your face in his warm palms and bring your lips together. And you enjoyed the crisp clarity that Spencer liked you as much as you liked him, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

~ ~ ~

Your heart races with the memory. The wind blows at the back of your neck again, cooling you down this time. You pull your crystals off the balcony ledge and hold them in your hands, and keeping them close is more soothing. They can't get away from you here. Then you pick yourself up and prepare to call it a night. Your phone says it's tomorrow. It was easy to assume Spencer was asleep. 

However, the universe added a twist by having his name pop up as you look at the time. Your phone vibrated, waiting for you to decide. You placed the crystals in your pocket. “Hello?”

“Hey!” The enthusiasm behind his voice makes you swell, and you hate to admit it. “Sorry that I’m calling you so late.”

"No, you're fine! How’s the case?”

“Good, we’re at the hotel packing up. Should be leaving in the next 30 minutes.” 

“Oh, good,” you swallow. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks.” He chuckles. “You’re looking at the moon, right?”

A smile creeps up on you. “Yeah. I am.”

“Me too.” The background noise of his team chatting is notable, but Spencer keeps talking. “I’m sorry I’m not there. Last minute calls are part of the job.”

“I know there are people who need you. It’s understandable.”

“I know.” He says. Silence reigns again. “I was doing some research on the Pink Moon on the drive. And apparently, it’s a good time to nurture relationships.”

“That is true.” You say. You feel like you should say more, but nothing comes to mind.

Spencer fills in the gap. “Doesn’t feel as nurturing to just be talking over the phone after not getting to speak for 13.4 hours, you know?”

“You think you can make it through the night?” You ask, sounding like such a confident smartass. When in reality, your heart is pounding in your ears.

“I’ll try my best to.”

“I will too.”

Silence is becoming more familiar between you, but a calmness in your core convinces you not to worry. So you sit in it, listening to Spencer as he breathes and even chokes down a yawn while the wind blows through on his end. “I don’t want to hang up.” He whispers.

“Me either.” You look up at the sky. The moon stands out against the stars, but you recognize some patterns in the glittering specks. Your heart continues to pump and you wonder if Spencer can easily pick up your deep breaths like you can with his. “Tell me about the constellations you can see.”

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 5

Eddie Munson x Reader

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Word Count:2,200

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

There’s a quiet natter around the board room table, with all of your co-workers discussing their next big headline or article for Star Magazine.

“Taking the reins:How to be more dominant in life (and the bedroom!)”

“Summer’s hottest bikini styles to cause a splash”

“15 ways to drive your man wild in bed”

Michael stalks around the room, and suddenly everyone falls quiet as they wait to hear what he has to say.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I suppose I’m just going to come out with it.” he huffs before continuing. “The numbers are in and it isn’t looking good, we’re falling just below 500,00 issues of Star Magazine in total circulation. Diamond Magazine, however much it pains me to say this, are closing in on close to a million.” 

There’s muffled whispers that scatter between everyone at the table until Michael speaks up again.

“I just got off the phone with corporate and there has been talk of a redesign.”

“You want to redesign Star Magazine? Diamond Magazine does almost everything we do, and we’re the ones that have to redesign?” comes the disgruntled reply of one of your colleagues.

“Either we redesign and try to boost our readership, or they pull the plug and we’re all out of a job.”

“But redesigning our magazine could be a death sentence.” Nancy chimes in.

“No, Nance, it doesn't have to be that way. It’s a chance to have some fun and really shake things up around here. Diamond magazine can have all our second-hand, cast-off ideas, we can do a complete overhaul here, and prove to everyone that Star Magazine still has some sparkle left.” you say, piping up from your seat.

Michael comes up by your side with a wide smile.

“It’s refreshing to see some enthusiasm around here for once. It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, Y/n. I’ll be leaving this is yours and Nancy’s very capable hands, and trusting my dynamic duo to come up with something new and fabulous.”

As you walk out of the boardroom you spot Nancy in the corner whispering to one of her co-workers. Perhaps it’s wrong of you to eavesdrop on conversations that you weren’t a part of, but nonetheless you hang back, just out of sight of Nancy’s gaze.

“..And I need you to hire the best photographer, and I do not want Y/n to find out about this.”

“Understood, Ms.Wheeler.” 

“I mean I don’t even know what’s going on with her anymore, but I’m getting real tired of this whole new act that she’s putting on all the time. We need to go ahead with our own presentation, and let Y/n fall on her ass like the loser she is.” Nancy giggles cruelly.

Suddenly it’s like you’re back to being thirteen years old again, hanging out with the popular girls, thinking they’re your friends, only to find out the harsh truth, that they’re all laughing at you behind your back.

 You walk through the door of your apartment after work, slumping down onto the sofa. The gnawing pit of upset and embarrassment eating away at you. If that was how Nancy felt about you, then surely that was how everyone felt about you. Maybe you were some ditzy loser who had ideas above her station, and maybe you were to blind to see that everyone else could see right through you.

As you pull your knees up and hug the couch cushion to your chest, you suddenly feel so alone and isolated. No, you were not about to let Nancy win, there would be no more sad moping around for you. You find your feet taking you across the city to the only other apartment you felt safe being in.

You knock your fist against the dark wood door of Eddie’s apartment, silently praying to yourself that he was in.

To your relief the door swings open and there he was. The reassuring brown eyes of your best friend.

“Sorry to drop in on you un-announced like this, but do you wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Eddie nods with a smile, sliding on his leather jacket.

You walk beside each other, down the streets as you fall into step with Eddie.

“So you’re getting married huh?” you ask, hoping to break the silence between you.

“Yeah, in a little over two weeks now.” Eddie replies, his eyes cast down on the pavement as he scuffs his sneakers as he walks.

“So Chrissy’s like your soulmate, right? That’s why you’re marrying her?”

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, I think that’s kind of a childish concept.” he says honestly.

“But you get butterflies whenever you’re around her, don’t you?” you pry. 

“I don’t think I’ve gotten butterflies about anyone since high-school.” he laughs softly.

There’s so much that’s happened between you now that you’ve both grown up, different lives taking different paths.

“What happened to us, Eddie?” you sigh, your footsteps halting in the street. “I mean, how come we never stayed friends?

“Okay, so we’re having one of those kinds of talks.” he says as he nods over to a nearby bench, motioning for you to sit beside him. “I guess things kind of fell apart right after your thirteenth birthday party. You were shoved into the closet..”

“Yeah, then everybody ditched me like yesterday’s leftovers.” you finish. “That’s the last thing that I remember.”

“Look, we don’t have to get into this, it was such a long time ago, right? I mean, it hardly even matters anymore.”  Eddie says, picking at the loose threads of the hole in his dark jeans.

“It matters to me, Eddie. Please just tell me what happened.” you plead.

“Well, I let you out of the closet, and I was going to play you your birthday song on the guitar, but you, and with quite the impressive amount of force for a thirteen-year-old girl might I add, threw at me the princess castle that I had spent weeks putting together for you.” he huffs quietly, running a hand through his dark curls. “After that you just stopped being my friend, so I took the hint, and we never really spoke to each other after that.” He looks so hurt just from remembering what happened, his big brown eyes suddenly without their usual joy-filled sparkle.

You feel awful. How could you have been so cruel and uncaring to the boy who was your only friend in the world. The guilt hits you and you feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach.

“It’s fine, let’s just forget about it. It was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter.” Eddie brushes off.

 “Stop being so nice to me Eddie. I don’t deserve it.” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t have any real friends, I’m pretty sure everyone hates me, I don’t talk to my mom and dad. I’m not a nice person, and the thing is..I’m not the girl I used to be, I’m not thirteen anymore, Eddie.” you say, your voice shaking with emotions.

You get up from the bench, needing to just get away. To walk away from Eddie, and away from the guilt and upset. It all feels like too much for you to deal with. You can’t look at him, because all you can see is the big sad brown eyes of the thirteen year old boy that you shut out of your life.

The next day you buy yourself a train ticket that takes you away from the city all the way back to your small town neighbourhood.

The bustling life of the busy city soon passes by your window, changing into green fields that whizz by like a blur.

You can’t help but look at the group of young girls who laugh and chatter quietly amongst themselves, and think about the young girl that you used to be, about the woman that you are now, and what happened in the in-between years. Were you ever going to be able to go back to the way things used to be? Or was this how your life was to be from now on?

You let yourself into your childhood home, the key clicking into the lock easily. The house was quiet, as you stepped through the threshold. You look around, and it’s almost as if nothing has changed, not a single cushion, picture frame, nor silly little knick-knack was out of place. 

Wandering down to the downstairs basement you come face to face with the dark door of the supply closet that Nancy and her gaggle of minions had locked you in all those years ago.

You sit down on the floor inside the closet, closing the door behind yourself, hugging your knees to your chest, as the heaviness in your heart spills over and the tears stream silently down your cheeks.

I just want things to go back to the way they were. You wish, closing your eyes and lean your head back against the shelves behind you with a soft ‘thunk��

Suddenly the door swings open, and there in the doorway is your mother.

“I missed you so much.” you sob, throwing your arms around her and crying into her shoulder.

“Oh darling,” she coos softly, rubbing her hand up and down your back. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

After spending the night unrestfully trying to sleep in your childhood bedroom, you shuffle downstairs to the kitchen where your mother is already up and preparing breakfast.

“Come on down, darling, I hope you're hungry! I’m making pancakes.” she smiles as she sets down a small stack of pancakes drizzled in syrup and decorated with a generous scattering of strawberries and blueberries in front of you.

You cut yourself off a piece to enjoy before taking a sip of your orange juice and then set your glass on the table as your mother sits opposit you at the kitchen table, her cup of coffee billowing little trails of steam in her hands.

“If you were given the opportunity to do-over anything in your life, anything at all, what would it be?” 

“It’s a little for philosophical questions like that, don’t you think honey?”

“Mom, please.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing, nothing at all.” she smiles, sipping from her mug.

“Really? You never made a big mistake, like something that ended up changing your life?

Your mother shakes her head at you before answering your question.

“Well, I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I don’t regret making them. If I never made the mistakes in the first place, I would never have learned from them. Making mistakes is what life is about, and if you think you can go through life without making mistakes, then I’m sorry, but you’re not living life right.”

You nod, finally seeing your mom’s point of view. Something that thirteen year-old you would have scoffed and laughed at.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around too much recently, mom.” you mumble hanging your head down.

Your mother reaches across the table to take your hand.

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Back in the city, after staying with your parents for a few days, you’re in your apartment pouring over your old high-school yearbook.

You look at all the photos, and see a picture of Eddie and his band performing at the school’s end-of-year show. He looks in his element, frizzy hair haloing around him, and his hands are working the strings of his black and red guitar to perfection. The rest of the band all looks amazing, but Eddie as the centrepiece of the picture is what captures your imagination. Suddenly you know what you have to do to save Star Magazine.

Underneath nearly all of the pictures in the yearbook is a little credit to the head school’s photography club, Jonathan Byers. He had been a quick fling of Nancy Wheeler’s back in the day before she ditched him when she decided being seen hanging out with him was tainting her ‘cool girl’ image. 

You’d personally never had a problem with him, quite the opposite really, he was always very kind and sweet to you, and although your paths never crossed all that much, you often gave him a smile and a little wave as you passed each other in the halls. 

Racing to reach for your little black book of phone numbers, you desperately hope that the number you have listed under Jonathan’s name still works.

Putting the phone to your ear, you listen as it rings a few times before it picks up.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answers cautiously.

 “Jonathan, it’s me Y/N, from high-school!”

“Y/N? Yeah I remember you! What can I do for you?”

“I need a guy who’s good with a camera, do you think you can help me out?”

“I think I might know a guy, yeah” he laughs down the line. “You just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, I knew I could rely on you!”

If Star Magazine wanted a rebrand, then a rebrand they were going to get.

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson

@ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel

@munsonology @onegirlmanytales @xxbimbobunnyxx

@optimisticallygarbage @nailbatanddungeon

[berryhobii]

Holly molly! I have just discovered you and let me tell you, you are fantastic. I think I speak for the readers when I say we can see ourselves though your work, and that makes us feel represented. Thank you so much! <3

I have an idea for a drabble, and since you are accepting requests I hoped you could write about it: a really independent reader having a horrible day but not wanting to let anyone know and fiance!Yoongi noticing and being her rock/support

Thanks for your request! Long haired Yoongi has been plaguing me for months and the thought that we won’t get that back for a while has me sliding down a wall😭😭enjoy this cute little thing about Yoongi being an awesome fiancé during reader’s small overstimulated breakdown. I also added a bathtub scene because why not?

~

Your horrible day started when you got to work that morning. You actually felt really good about how you dressed and did your hair today. It was a successful wash and go style. Months of trial and error had made you an expert in managing an effortless style. Apparently for your boss though, your hair wasn’t deemed “professional” for the workspace. He called it unruly and told you to get it together by tomorrow.

Then you accidentally spilled your morning Starbucks on your brand new blouse. The lid wasn’t all the way secure so when you lifted it to your mouth, it opened and got all over you. At least your pants didn’t get ruined and good thing you liked iced coffee instead of hot.

You kept backup clothes under your desk just for that though. The incident with your shirt caused you to be 15 minutes late to your meeting. It felt awkward as you slipped in the room, everyone’s eyes staring daggers into you as you shuffled to your seat. Thankfully, it wasn’t your turn to present so you still had a chance to impress them with your work.

But it also turns out that karma was an evil bitch because guess who left their flash drive in your laptop at home?!

Embarrassment couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt, your smile waning as you apologized for your mishap and promised to have it by tomorrow.

After a berating from your boss which was packed with micro aggressions, you went back to your desk to have a mini breakdown in peace which didn’t even get a chance to start since you found your chair gone once you got there. One of your coworkers explained that they needed extra chairs for a larger meeting so they “borrowed” yours. And was it just a coincidence that yours was the only one missing despite your desk being nowhere near the door?

Your brain was on overdrive, nerves overstimulated and tears ready to flow down your face. Everything was too much right now.

Deciding take a half day, you rushed out to your car, dropping your brand new scarf in a muddy puddle caused by the rain yesterday.

You wanted to scream so badly but you fought back the emotions. You’d be home soon.

Yeah. Home. That’s where you needed to be.

At least your parking spot was free…….and no it wasn’t. A moped was in its place. Great. Why the hell did those things even need full parking spaces? They were half the size of a car!!

You found another after double and triple checking it wouldn’t get your car towed because that would just be the icing on the cake.

Your apartment was warm when you entered, the scent of your favorite candles hitting your nose. That could only mean one thing…..

He was home.

Your body itched to seek him out and melt your worries in the warmth of his embrace, to let the world fade away under his nimble hands, and let your brain finally turn off as his deep voice lulled you to sleep.

But you couldn’t….

Growing up, you never had a very good support system. Your family often minimized your worries and needs, forcing you to care for yourself. You had no one to express your emotions to, no one to depend on in those dark moments. You only had yourself and while you convinced yourself that was okay, you knew deep down it wasn’t.

Then you met Yoongi. At first, you kind of ignored him, not feeling vulnerable enough to have a relationship yet. Your last one was with a guy who tried to guilt trip you into becoming a stay at home wife but that was never your style. You didn’t want to be dependent on someone like that. You wanted your own money and career to fall back on and develop. That guy kind of put you off relationships as a whole.

But Yoongi was never like that. He never tried to force you to do anything you didn’t want. He cooked and cleaned, did laundry and never complained. You did your part as well but even on those days where you didn’t, Yoongi would just pick up the slack. You’d always feel bad, insisting you’d do more housework but he’d just wave you off.

“It’s fine. I got it. I’m at home all day anyway. If you touch that broom, I’m gonna chain you to the bed but you’d probably like that.”

Yoongi was genuine. He never pressured you or made you feel like you needed to constantly be on guard.

A part of you wished you could be as laid back as him. He completed you. Calmed the storm that constantly brewed in you. Dissipated all of your irrational fears.

He was there for you. Always.

So why could you never stop that bubbling feeling that you were being too needy? Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that you could rely on him to be a shoulder to cry on. You knew that. You did.

But you just couldn’t.

You could hear him clinking around in the kitchen, probably making himself some lunch. You could also hear music so there’s a chance he didn’t hear you come in the door.

You quietly shuffled through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom. Once inside, you softly closed the door, leaning against it as you felt your body ready to break down. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the day finally crushing you.

You inhaled a shaky breath, tears pricking at your waterline ready to fall but you held them back. You wouldn’t cry. Not over this.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 1,2,3. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

A small knock to the door behind you made you pause.

Did he know you were home?

“Bubs, are you in there?” You used to think that pet name was so silly. Just use your actual name, right? But over the years, you’ve grown to adore it. You’ve never been called so affectionately before, not even by your parents.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Yoongi just hummed. You could hear a little bit of shuffling before it went quiet again.

“I went to the grocery store today and there was a sale on those bulk yogurt drinks you really like. I almost got shoulder checked by this grandma. I didn’t know old people could move so quickly.”

You felt yourself chuckle a little, your fingers twisting your engagement ring around.

“But guess who got the last pack of them?”

“Did you really fight a grandma for yogurt? You’re a grown man, Yoongi.”

“Hey, I wasn’t about to let an old lady punk me.” You could imagine his cute little frown and pouty lips. “Don’t worry though, I gave her my signature sandwich recipe and she gave me a coupon for some meat. We’re having chicken tonight.”

He was so ridiculous. So silly.

He was yours.

Slowly turning around, you grabbed the door handle and opened it, finding Yoongi sitting crossed legged on the floor. He stood when you came into his vision.

His long bangs were tied up in a little ponytail with a tangerine hair clip holding it back. To most outsiders and strangers, your fiancé could look cold and distant and he sometimes acted it but to you, you knew he was gentle and cute. The most compassionate and kindest person you’ve ever met.

You two stared at each other for a few beats before he slowly raised his arms, a wide and gummy smile making his eyes crinkle up.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. The dam finally broke.

You practically threw yourself into his embrace, the tears endlessly pouring from your eyes. Your fingers twisted in the back of his crewneck, holding him tightly as if you’d fade away if you let go.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, shushing you as he pet your hair gently.

“Today was awful, Yoongi! I s-spilled coffee on m-myself and I was late to my meeting…” You cried into his shoulder, words stuttering as you tried to talk through your tears. “And then I didn’t even have my flash d-drive and my boss told me my hair isn’t‘professional’, whatever that means….” His hand rubbed at your back, remaining silent to let you get everything out. “And I dropped my new scarf in a puddle and there was this dumb little moped in my parking spot! It’s just been an awful day!”

He kissed your temple, rocking you two side to side in an attempt to calm you.

“I know, bubs. It’s over now. I’m here.”

Yoongi let you cry, just holding you and whispering how much he loved you.

After your cries had dwindled to sniffles, Yoongi slowly pulled back to look at you. He pouted his lip at the sight of your wet lashes and red eyes. You looked drained.

His hands cupped both of your cheeks, gently rubbing his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the streaks.

“My poor baby. You must be so tired.”

You sighed shakily, fluttering your eyes closed. “I am.”

His forehead bumped against yours. “Why don’t I run you a nice bath? Then we can snuggle on the couch? How’s that sound?”

That sounded absolutely amazing.

You opened your eyes. “Will you join me?”

His smile was sweet and full of love. “Of course.”

~

Your body sunk into the warm water. You normally preferred your baths hot as hell but Yoongi had sensitive skin and you didn’t want to irritate that. The temperature of the water didn’t matter much when the heat of your beloved was pressed into your back.

His smooth hands ran all over your body—not in a sexual way but in a soothing and grounding way. Although your body did tingle when he grazed over your nipples.

“Do you feel a little better?” He asked, kissing at your shoulder.

You sighed, “yeah. Thank you, Yoon.”

“Anything, bubs.”

“I’m sorry I’m still kind of bad at coming to you. I was already overwhelmed and I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Look at me.”

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, craning your neck to be able to make eye contact with him. And what beautiful eyes he had.

“Never apologize for that. If you need a moment by yourself, that’s okay. And when you’re ready to find me, come find me. I’ll never turn you away. When I proposed to you, I promised to help you shoulder all of your bad days and I meant that.”

You smiled, moving to press a kiss to his soft lips, your hand coming up to hold the back of his head. His hair felt soft underneath your fingers. “I know. Thank you. I promise to be there for you too.”

“You already are. Just do what you feel is right and when you need me, I’ll be there. You can ruin as many sweaters as I have.”

You snorted a laugh, rolling your eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “You can love me.”

“I already do.”

“Good.”

…..

“Yoongi, are you getting a boner?”

“No.”

“I’m trying to relax, Yoongi! How can you get horny at a time like this? I’m getting out.”

“You’re pressed up against me naked! You should take it as a compliment. Come back!”

…….

“Does that mean bath time is over?”

“Get in here before I change my mind!”

“Yes ma’am.”

[sashaisready]

Chapter Eight - She said stop

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warnings: Drinking, some noncon kissing/groping with minor character

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 9

Series Masterlist

It had been three weeks since the phone call and Bucky had not been back to the bakery since. Neither had any of his men.

You knew you should be relieved. You had been uncomfortable having such close association with a mob boss and being on the periphery of his world, you couldn't get used to being followed or having watchful eyes accompany you everywhere you went. You weren't confident schmoozing in high end restaurants or being someone's arm candy. This was a clean break, it was over.

But...you missed him. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you did. You missed looking up as he came in and finding his smile in the doorway. You missed the way he looked at you, gazing at you intently as you spoke to him. You missed the fluttering in your stomach when he joked with you, the jolt of electricity when you passed his card back and your hands grazed. You missed his shocking blue eyes, the way a single glance from them made you feel like a deer in headlights.

You had thought about texting him. But what would you say exactly?

Hey! I know I rejected you but can you come back to the bakery and flirt with me? 🙂

Hi! I'm sorry I said no to the date – I'm a big coward and I'm scared you'll think I'm unsophisticated and boring (and maybe slightly scared of your job? Idk) xx

I know you hate me and I get it but can you just come to my apartment for a few hours and lie on top of me?

You sighed as you adjusted the cake stands and began to wipe down the counter.

"That's it" Wanda snapped.

"What?" you asked.

"You. You haven't stopped moping and sighing since that call. And as you're not going to call him, we are going out tonight. No arguments" she said sternly.

You scoffed. "Out where? I'm not in the mood Wa-"

"I just said, no arguments" she interrupted, folding her arms. "You're going to put on a tiny dress and we're going to get drunk and dance and maybe hook you up with a hottie. This place is closed tomorrow for Pepper to do her audit so we don't need to get up for work - no excuses".

You roll your eyes, knowing full well she'll wear you down eventually so you might as well give in now and save yourself the bother.

"Fine..." you huff. "But you're buying the first round..."

"Good" she sang triumphantly. "Let's get you cheered up..."

*

Later that evening you strolled into a nightclub at Wanda's side. You liked dancing but clubbing wasn't really your scene, still - it felt good to be out and getting your mind off things. You were wearing a blue dress, one of your favourites. Not too revealing but it highlighted your best features and you felt good in it. You wore heels, they were a decent height – but still comfortable and not the ridiculous type you couldn't walk in. Wanda had styled your hair and you'd both gone to town on her impressive make-up collection, carefully accentuating your eyes and lips. You both drew a few admiring stares from men as you strolled in which caused Wanda to shoot you a wink.

You hadn't been here before, it was somewhere Wanda had heard about. It was busy – but not too packed. The atmosphere was lively and buzzing, a mixture of people dancing and splayed over the seating areas enjoying their drinks. There were a lot of handsome guys here, none quite as handsome as Bucky (you couldn't help but think), but still easy on the eye.

There was a VIP section in the far corner, roped off and protected by a couple of burly bouncers. You couldn't see much due to the angle of the seating (you supposed privacy was a VIP perk) but a throng of beautiful girls dressed up to the nines were being ushered inside.

"Drink?" Wanda shouted over the music as she gestured with her hand to her mouth.

You whipped back around to face her, nodding enthusiastically as she drags you over to the bar.

Wanda ordered two fruity cocktails, handing you one as she pulls out her purse to pay. You push her bag away from the bar.

"I'll get these" you said firmly, retrieving one of the hundreds from your own purse.

"I have built myself up something of a nest egg recently..." you wink.

Wanda laughs and takes her drink as you hand the money over to the bartender.

"Can you break this okay? Sorry..."

Working with cash yourself you know it can be a pain when someone gives you a large bill.

"No problem..." he laughs as he takes it from your hand.

You sip your drink eagerly as you lock eyes with him. You suddenly feel a flash of recognition, but can't place him. He had dark hair and glasses, and seemed to look back at you with the same hazy recollection as he handed over your change. Was he a customer? Maybe.

You were just about to ask if he ever went into the bakery when Wanda hurriedly pulled you to the dancefloor. The mystery man was suddenly forgotten as you followed her, stuffing the bills back into your purse.

Unnoticed by you, the barman watched as you disappeared into the crowd and hummed thoughtfully, then craned his neck to peer over at the VIP area.

Wanda was right, this was just what you needed. You were letting loose on the dancefloor, the alcohol sweeping away all of your inhibitions as you moved to the music with your best friend. Your mind began to clear and soon enough you weren't thinking of anything, no Bucky, no work, nothing. Only the song that was playing and the freedom that you felt in that moment.

You and Wanda took turns going to the bar over the next few hours, bringing back all manner of elaborate cocktails and shots as you slowly began to feel intoxicated. All on Bucky's dollar, of course. You weren't a lightweight by any means by hadn't drank like this in a long time. The bartender you recognised had been replaced with another, and you'd already forgotten his face as you enjoyed your night.

After some more dancing Wanda mouthed that she needed the bathroom and you nodded, asking if she wanted company. Just as you asked her - a cute blond guy appeared next to you, grinning and dancing close. He had a sweet smile, very all-American and clean cut. You smiled back at him.

Wanda's eyes flitted between you and the blond, then grinned and shook her head at you – implying she was fine to go by herself. She gave you a knowing look and shot off to the Ladies, leaving you alone with him.

The music was loud so he leaned over and spoke into your ear.

"You wanna dance?" he asked.

You turned to face him and nodded enthusiastically, he smiled and took your hand – and the two of you moved to the music for a few songs. Occasionally he gave you a little spin or dipped you, which made you giggle. His hand felt nice in yours and you allowed yourself to get swept up in the warmth of him, powered by the booze in your veins.

"I'm John, by the way. John Walker." he said into your ear.

You smiled, leaning to him and telling him your name.

"I think you're very pretty" he shouted over the music, just as the end of the song dropped out, meaning his voice carried loudly across the dancefloor. A few fellow clubbers turned to look at him, and you cackled as he hid his face in mock embarrassment.

"Thank-you" you replied bashfully.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

You nodded – but then realised you hadn't seen Wanda in a while. You surveyed the room for her as John went ahead of you to the bar.

You soon saw her curled up on a sofa with Vis, who must've shown up at some point while you were dancing. They were making out heavily as usual and you rolled your eyes, smiling. Wanda caught your eye and grinned at you, pointing at John and giving you a thumbs up. You rolled your eyes again, miming 'get a room' as Vis saw you and gave you a wave.

You chuckled at your friends' antics as you got to the bar. John had ordered you a gin and tonic and moved it in front of you as he paid. You furrowed your brows slightly, he hadn't asked what you wanted and you didn't really like gin much. You weren't a big fan of people making decisions for you without checking. Still, you didn't want to be rude so accepted it – giving him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, you were a bit tipsy and wanted to go with the flow.

John smiled at you as you sipped the drink. You smiled back, feeling a bit shy and unsure of what to say. The evening's beverages had gone to your head a bit, making you feel a bit unsteady on your feet.

"I meant what I said" he shouted over the music, leaning into you. His breath was hot on your ear and you realised he was slurring slightly. "You're really pretty".

You blush, smiling up at him. "Thanks, that's sweet of you".

Without warning he pins you against the wall of the club, shoving his tongue into your mouth and harshly groping your breast with his hand. The kiss is rough and sloppy, he tastes like stale beer. He misses your mouth initially so you end up with his saliva spotted across your cheek.

You gasp and roughly push him off of you.

"Hey! Stop, John!" you shout angrily, wiping your mouth and adjusting your bra where he had felt you up.

He rolls his eyes and moves in again. You move your head to face him and glare daggers at him.

"I said stop". 

He scoffs. "C'mon don't play hard to get, honey. You've been rubbing up against me on the dancefloor and you let me buy you a drink. We both want this".

Your jaw clenches as you feel your rage simmering.

"We were just dancing, I didn't sign a contract to do anything else. And I don't even like gin" you scold.

He laughs mockingly at you. "All girls like gin..."

You raise your shoulders in disbelief. The worst part was you had thought he was cute and probably would've made out with him eventually. But not like this. And not now he's behaved this way.

You roll your eyes and go to move away from him but he pushes your shoulder hard against the wall and tries to continue the kiss. You hit him, hard. The back of your hand strikes his cheek with a loud 'thwack!'. The sound rings out even over the loud music and he cries out, staring at you in disbelief.

"I said stop..." you repeat defiantly.

His eyes harden, he glares at you with fury and his face contorts into an ugly grimace. You feel your breath hitch as he bares his teeth.

"You little..."

But he halts as a gloved hand comes down hard on his shoulder and yanks him away. John is suddenly jerked backwards.

"She said stop..." warns a low voice.

"Who the fuck asked you-" John yells as he turns to face whoever dared touch him.

Both yours and John's faces fall as you realise who it is, but for slightly different reasons.

Bucky. 

[jaysficarchive]

Villain's Wife Support Group

Chapter 1: Initiation

Synopsis: The wives of some of the most infamous villains in the world meet every Wednesday to share stories, give updates, and talk about love on the wrong side of the law.

Relationship(s): Various

Warning(s): Mention of SA, mention of child murder

Tag list: @floof-ghostie @calciumcryptid @mayameanderings

"Hello, ladies, and thank you all for coming."

A group of women exchanged "Hello"s either taking or adjusting their seats. Most of them were older, a few young faces in the crowd. One could tell a bit of their personalities just from looking at the choices in decor.

People from all different parts of the country gathered in front of their computers for one purpose: a common type of spouse.

"Welcome, everyone," a small, round woman with dark brown skin and short black hair spoke. Dressed in a silky robe lined with fur, it was easily to tell she was relaxing after a long day at work. "My name is Christine. I'm the founder of this group."

Some of the others waved at her while others said hellos. The positive reception pleased Christine.

"This is initiation day where we basically introduce ourselves, talk about what we do for a living, maybe a little bit about ourselves then introduce costumed criminal we're married to."

A simple enough task. These people were just getting to know each other, after all. Making a good first impression was highly encouraged to most, critical to some.

"I'll go first. My name is Christine Chapel. I work as a cabaret performer under the name Belle Holiday, my favorite gemstones are amethysts and pearls, and my husband is the Music Meister."

Another woman with copper brown skin and the same jet black hair spoke next. "I'm Brandice Bivolo. I'm an elementary school teacher and my husband is the Rainbow Raider. A few of my hobbies are metalworking, playing instruments, and calligraphy."

Both her style and the background behind her could easily be described as bohemian, hipster. With all the crystal necklaces and bright, earthy colors of her clothes, it wasn't hard to see why someone like him fell for her.

The other members took turns introducing themselves. A notable face was Marina Lulit, a prominent Floridian socialite and wife of one K'an of Tenochtitlan. If what she said about him being the ruler of an underwater kingdom was true, she probably had lots of stories to tell.

Eve, an older Black woman from the Deep South, was the wife of Hollow, phantom of the railroads. Christine was a big fan of the ostrich feather lamp behind her; and of the overall vibes of her room in general. She must've had some truly wild stories--probably even moreso than her own with Music Meister.

Who could forget the ever gracious Mona Lisa Beauvais. It was for the better she be in this group since her fiance Riddler was still in Arkham. Her room was another's Christine admired--with its mix of old Hollywood and urban aesthetics.

Christine clapped her hands together. "Now that that's done, I'm gonna cut to the chase. This is a support group for all women and femmes who are either married or engaged to villains."

"Let's go over a few ground rules. First, when I say all women and femmes, I mean it. I will not tolerate any bullshit. Second, no child murderers or rapists. Made that very clear in the rules on Facebook. Lastly, be respectful about each other's tastes. We already deal with enough shaming from the media."

The other members nodded along in agreement, some even mumbling their support of Christine's ground rules.

"Anymore questions?" Christine looked around.

"When do we meet?" Brandice asked.

"We meet every Wednesday," Christine replied. "Make sure to let me know if you can't make it to a meeting ahead of time."

"What are we gonna do in this group?" Marina asked. "I mean, I know this ain't a club but we gotta do something fun every once in a while."

She's right, Christine said to herself. No one would want to spend the whole time moping and telling stories. "I do plan on having some events including a girls trip. Nothing concrete yet, of course."

After a few more questions and another run down of things, the members all exchanged goodbyes before going their separate ways.

Alone, Christine gently closed the computer. It was just her in a large, luxurious house. Sighing, she headed to the kitchen for a drink. Usually the house would be filled with the sounds of Music Meister playing his piano or singing to his favorite songs. Christine would join in, maybe even dance along to his voice.

Today, only silence. Just a few hours ago, Christine went through the worst moment of her life since the car accident--the trial of her husband. It wasn't being alone that distressed her; rather the amount of attention she got. In the span of a few hours, she went from a private citizen to having cameras and microphones in her face as she left the Gotham City Courthouse.

Heaven knows what they'd say about her and her relationship. All the wrongful insinuations, false narratives, invasive questions.

These were about to be the longest three years ever.

[abbygrabska]

The Idiot's Lantern

I step out of the tardis, brushing a stray hair back and looking around. It’s a shame Rose decided to stay with her mom for a while, but it might be better for right now.

“I thought we’d be going for the Vegas era.”

The Doctor pokes his head out of the tardis, “You’re kidding, aren’t you? If you wanna see Elvis, you go in the late ’50s! The time before burgers.” He goes back inside, “When they called him ‘the pelvis’ and he still had a waist!”

I giggle.

“What’s more, you see him in style!”

I look over at the tardis when I hear the sound of an engine. The Doctor rides out on a blue late-50s moped.

I laugh in amusement as he stops, with big sunglasses and a white helmet on his head.

He makes an Elvis face and does an impression, “You goin’ my way, doll?”

“Is there any other way to go, daddy-o?” I walk towards the moped, “Straight from the fridge, man!”

“Hey, you speak the lingo!” He hands me a blue version of his helmet, I take it and put it on.

“Yeah, well, I was obsessed with Marilyn Monroe when I was in middle school.” I sit behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.

We drive off down the street.

“Where we off to?” I shout over the noise of the engine.

“Ed Sullivan TV Studios, Elvis did ‘Hound Dog’ on one of the shows, there were loads of complaints. Bit of luck, we’ll just catch it.”

“And that would be in New York?” I ask.

“That’s the one!” A red London bus drives past us, and the Doctor stops the moped. I look around and notice, we are in fact in London.

“Digging that New York vibe.” I tease him.

“Well… this could still be New York, I mean this looks very New York to me... Sort of… Londony New York, mind…” “What are all the flags for?”

We walk past two boys carrying a tv into a house.

“There you go, sir, all wired up for the great occasion.”

“The great occasion? What d’you mean?” The Doctor asks.

“Where’ve you been living, out in the Colonies? Coronation, of course.”

“What Coronation’s that, then?” 

The man seems bemused, “What d’you mean? The Coronation.”

The Doctor seems confused so he looks to me for help.

“The Queen’s.” He doesn’t get it, “Queen Elizabeth!”

“Oh! Oh, is this 1953?!”

“Last time I looked. Time for a lovely bit of pomp and circumstance, what we do best.”

I look up at the chimneys, “Look at all the TV aerials… looks like everyone’s got one. That’s weird, gran said tellies were so rare they all had to pile into one house.”

“Not round here, love. Magpie’s Marvelous Tellies, only five quid a box.”

The Doctor suddenly cuts in, “Oh but this is a brilliant year! Classic! Technicolor, Everest climbed, everything off the ration. The Nation throwing off the shadows of war and looking forward to a happier, brighter future!”

I hear a woman shouting, “Someone help me, please! Ted!”

A man with a blanket over his head is being led into a black police car by two suited men.

We rush over.

“Leave him alone, it’s my husband!”

“What’s going on?” The Doctor asks.

The blanketed man is pushed into the back seat, as a teen boy runs out of his house, “Oi, what are you doing?!”

One suited man addresses the Doctor, “Police business, now get out of the way, sir!”

I look at the boy, “Who did they take, do you know him?”

“Must be Mr. Gallagher…”

The car drives off, leaving the woman, Mrs. Gallagher in despair. Another woman comes out of the house the boy came out of.

“It’s happening all over the place. They’re turning into monsters…”

A man storms out of the house, “Tommy! Not one word!” We all look at him.

“Get inside now!”

The boy, now known to me as Tommy speaks, “Sorry, I'd better do as he says…”

Mrs. Gallagher is still sobbing, but the Doctor puts on his sunglasses again and runs over to the moped, and kicks it to life, “All aboard!” 

I hop on the back and we ride off after the police car.

We drive around the corner and stop short at the market stall.

“Lost ‘em! How’d they get away from us?”

“Surprised they didn’t turn back and arrest you for reckless driving, have you passed your test?!”

The Doctor isn’t listening, “Men in black? Vanishing police cars? This is Churchill’s England, not Stalin’s Russia!”

“That boy said people were turning into monsters.”

The Doctor turns to me.

“Maybe we should go and ask the neighbors.”

We knock on the door of the house that Tommy lives in, the door is opened by his father.

“Who are you, then?”

“Let’s see then, judging by the look of you, family man, nice house, decent wage, fought in the war, therefore, I represent Queen and country!” The Doctor holds up the psychic paper with a flourish, “Just doing a little check of her Majesty’s forthcoming subjects for the great day. Don’t mind if I come in? Nah, didn’t think you did, thank you!”

He barges past the man before he can protest and I follow after him.

We end up in the living room.

“Not bad, very nice! Very well kept! I’d like to congratulate you, Mrs…?” “Connolly.” She answers timidly.

“Now then Rita, I can handle this. This gentleman’s a proper representative!”

I set my jaw, staring at the man.

“Don’t mind the wife, she rattles on a bit.”

“Well, maybe she should rattle on a bit more.” I interject faking an accent, “I’m not convinced you’re doing your patriotic duty.” I glance around at the flags, “Nice flags. Why are they not flying?”

He speaks after a nervous pause, “There we are Rita, I told you, get them up, Queen and country!” “I’m sorry…” She apologizes.

“Get it done! Do it now.”

“Hold on a minute. You’ve got hands, Mr. Connolly. Two big hands. Why is that your wife’s job?”

“It’s housework, innit?” “And that’s the woman’s job?”

“Course it is!”

I cross my arms and set a glare on the man, “Are you suggesting the Queen does the housework?”

“No! Not at all!” I hand him a string of flags, giving him an insistent stare, “Then get busy.”

He sets about hanging the flags, feigning enthusiasm. I am not convinced.

“You’ll be proud of us, ma’am! We’ll have Union Jacks left, right, and center!”

I narrow my eyes at him and smirk, “Mr. Connolly, it’s only the Union Jack when it's flown at sea.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, I do apologize!”

I smile at him widely, “Well, don’t get it wrong again, there’s a good man.” I speak with force, “Now get to it!”

He hastily gets back to work. I smile at the Doctor as I sit on the couch next to him.

“Right then! Nice and comfy, at Her Majesty’s leisure!” He speaks quieter to me, “What was that?”

“Reminds me of mom.”

“I’m the Doctor and this is Abby, and you are?” He looks at Tommy, who seems surprised to be noticed.

“Tommy.”

We shift on the couch, making room for Tommy between us.

“Well, sit yourself down, Tommy.” The Doctor motions to the other chair, for Rita to sit.

“Have a look at this. I love telly, don’t you?”

“I think it's brilliant.”

“Good man!”

We watch the program, apparently about fossils silently for a few moments before the Doctor turns around to check on Eddie, who is still hanging the flags.

I turn to Rita, “Now, why don’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

She seems reluctant, “Did he say he was a Doctor?” “Yes, I am.”

“Can you help her? Oh please, can you help her, Doctor?” Eddie overhears this last part, and interrupts, “Now then Rita, I don’t think the gentleman needs to know…”

Rita begins to cry, I move forward in my seat, “Tell us what’s wrong, and we can help.”

Rita’s sobs grow louder, and she just shakes her head helplessly. I go over and wrap an arm around her.

“Hold on a minute! Queen and country are one thing, but this is my house!” Eddie looks down and the flags in his hands, chucking them down, “What the… what the hell am I doing? Now you listen here, Doctor! You may have fancy qualifications, but what goes on under my roof is my business!”

I look at him, “All the people are being bundled into…” Eddie shouts, “I am talking!”

I stand, raising my voice louder than his, glaring at him as I pull his tie to make him eye level with me, “Now you listen here, and listen good, I will not tolerate being yelled at by a man who has no ruling over my life. You are staring into a deep dark pit of trouble if you don’t let us help.”

He’s shaken, so I continue, “So I’m ordering you, sir, to tell us what’s going on!”

He tries to think of something to say but is stopped by the sounds of banging coming from upstairs. We both look up.

“She won’t stop.” He speaks with a degree of fear.

The banging continues, louder this time, “She never stops.”

Tommy starts to speak in a slightly shaky voice. I let go of Eddie’s tie and turn to the boy.

“We started hearing stories, all ‘round the place. People who’ve changed. Families kept it secret ‘cause they were scared. The police started finding out. We don’t know how, no one does. They just… turn up, come to the door, and take ‘em. Any time of day or night.”

“Show us.”

“Gran? It’s Tommy.” He opens the door wider, allowing all of us to see inside the darkened room.

“‘S all right Gran, I’ve brought help.”

His gran is standing by the window, slowly moving toward us. Tommy steps further into the room and turns on the light.

She has no face, all the features are gone, and it’s smoothed over.

The Doctor peers at the blank face. I stand near him, Tommy and Rita are close together behind us, and Eddie remains completely outside the room.

“Her face is completely gone.” He scans her with the sonic screwdriver, “Scarcely an electrical impulse left. Almost a complete neural shutdown, she’s ticking over, like her brain has been… wiped clean.” He puts the sonic screwdriver away, but still examines her face.

“What’re we gonna do, Doctor? We can’t even feed her!”

We are interrupted by the crash of policemen entering the house.

“We’ve got company.”

“It’s them, they’ve come for her!”

“What was she doing before this happened? Where was she?”

Rita hesitates as the policemen clamber up the stairs.

“Tell me, quickly, think!” “I can’t think! She doesn’t leave the house! She was just…”

Tommy is cut off by the entrance of a big burly man and some supporting officers. 

The Doctor attempts to buy some time by talking.

Much to my horror, the man punches the Doctor in the face.

The men take the opportunity to throw a blanket over Tommy’s gran and usher her to the stairs. Everyone runs after them as I attempt to wake the Doctor.

He suddenly wakes up as if nothing happened, “Ah, hell of a right hook! Have to watch out for that!” He stands and bolts down the stairs.

The Doctor pushes past them and runs to the moped as I go down the stairs as fast as I can in my shoes.

I pause at the entrance of the living room, noticing red, buzzing tendrils of electricity coming out of the television. The Doctor calls for me again. The tendrils are absorbed back into the television, prompting me to move closer. I turn the television set around to see the red electricity still buzzing along the aerial, and a large label saying Magpie Electricals. 

Tommy, Rita, and Eddie come back into the living room.

“How’d they find her? Who told ‘em?”

Eddie notices me, “You! Get the hell out of my house!”

I get up, “I’m going, I’m done! Nice to meet you, Tommy, and Mrs. Connolly. And as for you, Mr. Connolly, only an idiot hangs the Union Flag upside-down. Shame on you!” I grin cheerfully before running out of the house.

I enter Magpie’s shop, where the man himself is adjusting a TV set on the counter.

He looks up nervously as I come in, “Oh, I, I’m sorry miss, I’m afraid you’re too late. I was just about to lock the door.”

I shut the door behind me, “Yeah? Well, I wanna buy a telly.”

“Come back tomorrow. Please.”

“You’ll be closed, won’t you?”

“What?”

“For the big day? The coronation…”

“Yes, yes, of course. The big day.” He tries to make me leave as I approach him, “I’m sure you’ll find somewhere to watch it. Please go.”

“Seems to me half of London’s got a television since you’re practically giving them away.”

“I have my reasons.” “And what are they?”

Before he can answer me, one of the televisions on display tunes itself, and a woman appears on the screen, “Hungry! Hungry!”

“What’s that?”

“It’s just a television. One of these modern programs. Now, I do think you should leave! Right now!”

“Not until you’ve told me. How come you’re televisions are so cheap?”

“It’s my patriotic duty. Seems only right that as many folks as possible get to watch the coronation. We may be losing the Empire but we can still be proud! Twenty million people they reckon’ll be watching! Imagine that!”

I smile, not convinced in the slightest.

“And twenty million people can’t be wrong, eh? So why don’t you get yourself back home and get up, bright and early, for the big day?”

“Nah. I’m not leaving ‘til I’ve seen everything.” “I need to close.” “Mr. Magpie, something’s happening out there. Ordinary people are struck down and changed and the only new thing in the house is a television. Your television. What’s going on?”

He gives up, “I knew this would happen. I knew I'd be found out.” He locks the door.

I look at him, uneasy, “All right, then, it's just you and me… Are you gonna come clean? What’s really in it for you?”

“For me? Perhaps some peace.”

“From what?”

“From Her.” He glances over at the television screen.

I follow his gaze, “That’s just a woman on the tv, that’s just a program.”

“What a pretty little girl.”

I stare at the screen, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, I am, little one. Unseasonably chilly for this time of year, don’t you think?”

“What are you?”

“I’m the Wire. And I’m hungry…!” She bares her teeth- pinkish-purplish bolts of electricity shoot out of the screen and encompass my face, sucking.

“Magpie, help me!”

His voice is muffled.

Everything goes black.

Suddenly I can see again, there are dozens of people surrounding me.

The policemen let us out and we go back to Florizel Street.

I spot the Doctor staring at me. I run to him as fast as I can and jump into his open arms.

We walk down the street, watching the people.

“Is that Wire lady trapped for good?”

“Hope so. Just to be on the safe side though, I’ll use my unrivaled knowledge of trans-temporal extirpation methods to neutralize the residual electronic pattern.”

I think for a moment, before hitting his arm, “Just say you’re gonna tape over it.”

“I’m surprised you understood that.”

“The Tardis has been giving me lessons in whatever gibberish you’re always on about.” I grin.

We stop in front of Tommy, “Tell you what Tommy, you can have the scooter. Little present. Best keep it in the garage for a few years though, eh?”

Tommy looks over the Doctor’s shoulder, “Good riddance.”

“Is that it then, Tommy? New monarch, new age, new world, no room for a man like Eddie Connelly.”

“That’s right. He deserves it.”

I can tell he almost means those words, so I nudge his shoulder, “Go after him.”

“What for?”

“He’s your dad.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“No duh. As I said, he’s your dad. But you’re clever. Clever enough to save the world so don’t stop there. Go on!” I nudge him again.

Tommy runs to join his dad. They walk side by side and Tommy takes his dad’s bag for him. They continue down the street together.

We watch them fondly from a distance. The Doctor hands me a glass of orange juice. We clink our glasses together, smiling.

[advaitsingh]

TVS XL 100 Mileage Per Liter and Fuel Efficiency Details

The TVS XL 100 is a reliable and fuel-efficient moped, ideal for daily commuting and commercial use. Known for its durability and low maintenance, it offers an impressive XL 100 mileage per liter, making it a cost-effective choice. The moped delivers around 60-70 kmpl, depending on road conditions and riding style. With its lightweight design, comfortable seating, and fuel-efficient engine, the TVS XL 100 remains a popular choice for riders seeking affordability and performance.

[the-firebird69]

How the Barbie Movie car was recreated: An Interview with Mattel’s Bryan...

They're threatening for other stuff but they were threatening for this to come out they're very evil and they're over it that's why they're getting hit and that's what their Master did to them. This is great. We use it. He tried tries can't seem to get it. "GREAT TOYS USED AND RECONDITIONED" for kids too. Cheap ok we see it. Briggs and Stratton for kids. Mostly off road barbie car too yes big fat tires but inside the wheel well. Uh oh lawnmower kits yes. Single and double seaters. But tons of bikes quads four wheelers toy houses full sized used we hv tons of it. Open them shortly in separatist cities we setup the company. A Disney atmosphere better pay 3 day work week or similar full benefits we run the Corp with them hmm new board each City area like new England no Eastern seaboard yes hehe no ok north south eastern seaboard and deep South four boards. We see it they are like it now. New corporate structure. We come in low mean dirty but clean product with parts. Like Worcester. He liked it gritty fun entertaining dangerous looking like the big city but isn't. Tons laugh out areas ok they love it. Nice what house style shops like fort Meyers had the Harley dirt track bike yes.

We will sell those too Chinese version a d USA some are cheap. Try to restart pagliani hard knock. Offer e-bike mopeds dot approved. We'll hire tons. They love it standardized

We set it up move on it. Beer wine alcohol warehouse nearby. Yup. Outdoors stuff yeh ok but cars. See this car ok. Seat lowers works

Well sell smaller ones identical mostly and this dot appvd you will see next post

Thor Freya

Olympus

[eunoiareview]

I don't believe anyone died

The business motel on the island on the other side of the Autobahn bridge has a cafeteria that, despite its fanciness, uses paper plates and only has two rows of couches facing one other for seating, without tables. It’s a new decorative style called funeral wake. I’m on a couch eating by myself, though we’re elbow to elbow. On my way here, the moped turned into a tiny dog who ran away, leaving…

[gracelaramusings]

Days 12-13: El Nido- Island Hopping and Treehouse Heaven

A must-do activity in El Nido is island hopping- one of four tours, named A,B,C and D. Knowing we would and could not do all, and might do only one, we learned that the general opinion is that A is the most popular and likely a not-miss. C and D are far off and mostly open water travel. And B (or is it C?)’s biggest attraction is currently off limits due to filming of “Survivor” (I wonder which country’s version?)

So having signed up for A, we packed up our newly-purchased water-proof bag— but regrettably, I forgot to put my phone in it, so… here’s hoping it will work again.

The tour was just as we hoped. Cool guides “I know some Hebrew! Ani ohev otach!”, clearly demonstrating his honestly impressive linguistic abilities rather than professing his love for me.

The tour was definitely not-to-be-missed. The problem- no one missed it, and as a result, there is definitely over crowding. So that hidden lagoon? Not so hidden, when many other boats have the more-or-less same order and locales to island hop on. Would we forego it? No, because it was spectacularly beautiful. But serene? Far from it.

So we hopped, and chatted with some of the travelers, among them a wonderful couple from Italy. I took my first GoPro videos, and tried to capture the beauty.

Upon our return, I ran back to the hotel in order to make it on time to get us a few complimentary cocktails while Yuval exchanged numbers with the nice Italian couple who asked us to send them our GoPro videos.

That night we went into town again. Blown away by the previous night's pizza, and since we had so little pizza the whole trip, we decided to try out another pizza place that was literally overflowing with travellers and very highly rated. Benches lined the place in communal-dining style, so stuffed that those near the windows would literally climb out the window to leave or walk around to the counter to place orders. Make your own pizzas with incredibly unique combinations and ingredients, it was the type of place that you just didn't know what to order due to all the options. We stuck with pretty basic basil, mozz et al and were seated next to two French Canadian travellers. Learning we were from Israel, they asked, literally, tens of questions, about everything, with a thirst to understand the conflict, our life, the challenges, our decisions, and more. Their curiousity was refreshing, and it made for an amazing experience, equal to that of the pizza itself.

So, that night, it became clear that my little forgetfulness of having not put my phone in the waterproof bag destroyed my phone. That teaches me to keep my valuables in that blue bag around my chest. After hours of trying to charge, praying it will ,seeing it doesn't, and the helplessness of not knowing whether I will lose all that is stored there, I went to sleep, saddened by the thought of being phoneless. I wish I weren't so dependent upon that little thing, but what can you do, that's that. Who knows, maybe it can be saved... I went to sleep, trying to maintain my optimism, hoping my phone would once again be whole.

Tuesday, 26 March... Our last day in El Nido we decided we would spend once again exploring by moped. But first, breakfast overlooking the bay, another shakshouka, shared with a curious, hungry gecko.

We went into town to rent the moped, and then headed down south to the beach where the full moon party (that we didn't go to) was. We parked our moped in the very organized, very crowded, free parking area, then made our way towards the entry. A series of businesses lined the wide stairs that led down to the beach. From hair salons to cafes and ice cream joints, it all was very commercial... too much so. The one thing I did excuse for its commercialism was the gym that was lined with C2 rowers and even ski ergs! I wonder if those are listed in the "find an erg" website! Damning the fact that I was in flipflops, I forgave myself for not doing a day entry to the gym, knowing that time was better spent walking barefoot on the beach that was just a few more stairs away.

Apparently, this beach, Las Cabanas, has the best sunset around. The restaurants lining the beach were priced accordingly. Knowing travellers will find a choice spot and spend hours there until the sun sets, the restaurants had to get their moneys' worth from the few orders that would be placed from the even fewer patrons that would find seating.

The cheapskates we are, and with the knowledge that a sun set can be seen sitting on sand and not a beanbag, we had lots of time to explore. Another famous attraction on that beach is a zipline across the water onto an adjacent island, which also is accessible at lowtide. So we walked across the the island, exploring. We decided to hike up to the landing spot of the zipline, both to see if there was a view and to find out if we could get a cheaper ticket for the return journey back to the zipline launch. No luck there, but fun walking up the steep steps in the jungle, and seeing the screaming zipliners and the swooping drone that took the photography from up close. The experience reminded me of the time Yuval and I did the tarzan swing in Cyprus. I still have the VHS casette tape somewhere in my cupboard under our living room tv...

Concerned that high tide might trap us on the island, and tiring of rock climbing and scrambling in flip flops (future note to self: bring watershoes to beaches just in case), we started heading back and continued on our southbound walk. Having rounded the edge of the beach and after just a few paces, with the restaurants nowhere to be seen, we stumbled across a treehouse. High up on a cliff, the patio was made with intricate woodwork. Captivated by its clear artistry, I took a picture of the phone number posted high above, taking note for, perhaps, a future journey. A little further, there was yet another treehouse, this one with a lovely woman on the wooden artsy porch above. I waved hello. She leaned over, and I asked her if she is the owner. When she replied positively, we asked if we could check out the place. "Of course!" she answered, and made her way down to greet us.

Taking off our shoes, we started climbing up the long, narrow staircase up to the trees. It turns out the treehouses are advertised on Air B&B. It never occurred to Yuval and I to search Air B&B for accomodations during our travels. We primarily use Agoda, Booking, Expedia or HostelWorld. The places were beautiful, and absolutely reasonably priced compared to most places in the area. A little kitchenette, beautiful, quaint ceramic bathroom tiles, the living area peppered with art and statuettes from Africa or Polynesia or other far-away places, I could envision myself spending countless nights here, lulled to sleep by the sound of the ocean, feeling that I was on a deserted island, yet close by civilization that was just down and around the beach.

A natural first reaction was to regret not having found this find before coming. Then, clearing my head, I realized the place we were staying was lovely and perfect for us now. This place will be perfect for another time. So we parted ways with the owner, hoping one day to come back, with promises of a cooking lesson or two when I do.

Continuing on, we passed a couple that was making mobiles hanging from a tree, with the shells and plant debris that were scattered about. I wondered whether they were to sell, or they were just passing the time. We jumped over logs, admired the nearby islands, and eventually reached another hotel that seemed almost abandoned, except for a few staff. We climbed up to the bar and ordered a local beer, and sat, taking in the sea air and beauty. (and since there was an electric outlet there, I tried charging my still-alive-but-barely phone...)

We then made our way back. passing the now-ownerless still-hanging (thus not for sale but for beauty and pasttime) mobiles, the beautiful treehouses and populated beanbags. We reurned to our moped to go back to catch the cocktails and the also-wonderful sunset from our place (made that much better with free cocktails).

We checked out, settled our bill, and organized a ride so we could head out first thing to our excursion to Coron, after a final shakshouka breakfast. All was packed and ready to go.

Hoping I might be able to repair my phone before our 3-day internet-less excursion, we headed out to a repair shop we had been told about on the main road. I presented the phone to the man, who asked the model. After some time looking at it, he went to a workstation and took out what looked like a soldering iron and high powered airbrush, or some other brash tools of the trade. Yuval the wise one looked at me and said "Are you crazy?" as the clearly-unhygienic dust-laden main-road-pollution-heavy shop was not the most ideal of places to do such a sensitive repair. So we smiled and thanked them, I took back my now-dead phone, and said a little prayer to the phone G-d above.

We returned out moped, went back to our little haven, and went to sleep, hoping for a wonderful few days ahead.

[ntxpowersport]

Moped Mania: Your Guide to the Zippy Little Motorcycle

The sun on your face, the wind in your hair, and the satisfying rumble of a small engine beneath you – that's the magic of mopeds. These little two-wheeled wonders offer a taste of motorcycle freedom without the bulk, complexity, or stringent licensing requirements. Whether you're a seasoned commuter, a weekend adventurer, or just looking for a fun way to get around, mopeds might be your perfect ride.

Moped Magic: What Makes Them Special?

Mopeds occupy a sweet spot in the transportation world. They're:

Fuel-efficient: Cruising at speeds typically around 30 mph, mopeds sip on gas, making them kind to your wallet and the environment.

Nimble and maneuverable: Weaving through traffic or navigating tight streets is a breeze on a moped. Say goodbye to parking woes!

Accessible and affordable: Compared to their bigger motorcycle cousins, mopeds are generally cheaper to buy, maintain, and insure. Licensing requirements are often less stringent too.

Low-maintenance: Their simple engines and lack of complex features mean less time in the garage and more time on the road.

Plain old fun: Zipping around town on a moped is pure, unadulterated fun. It's a liberating experience that's hard to beat.

Moped Musings: Choosing Your Perfect Ride

With a growing variety of mopeds available, finding the right one for you is key. Consider these factors:

Engine size: Mopeds typically range from 49cc to 150cc engines. Bigger engines offer more power but come with slightly higher costs and licensing requirements.

Transmission type: Choose between automatic or manual transmissions. Automatics are convenient for stop-and-go traffic, while manuals offer a more connected riding experience.

Features: Some mopeds come with bells and whistles like storage compartments, phone mounts, and even passenger seats. Decide what's important for your needs.

Style: From classic Vespa-inspired scooters to sporty café racers, there's a moped aesthetic for everyone. Pick one that speaks to your personality!

Moped FAQ: Your Burning Questions Answered

Do I need a license to ride a moped? Licensing requirements vary by region. Generally, mopeds fall under a separate category with less stringent rules than motorcycles. Check your local regulations.

Do mopeds need insurance? While not always mandatory, moped insurance is highly recommended. It protects you financially in case of accidents or theft.

Are mopeds safe? As with any motorized vehicle, safety is paramount. Wear a helmet, follow traffic rules, and ride defensively.

Where can I ride a moped? Mopeds are typically allowed on roads with speed limits below 50 mph. Check your local regulations for specific restrictions.

How much does a moped cost? Prices range from around $1,500 for basic models to $5,000 or more for premium options.

Are mopeds easy to maintain? Mopeds are generally low-maintenance. Regular oil changes, chain lubrication, and brake checks are essential.

Can I customize my moped? Absolutely! From paint jobs and accessories to engine modifications, the customization possibilities are endless.

Are mopeds good for the environment? Compared to cars and motorcycles, mopeds have a smaller carbon footprint due to their fuel efficiency. Electric mopeds are an even greener option.

Where can I learn more about mopeds? Online forums, clubs, and even dedicated moped magazines are great resources. Don't hesitate to ask experienced riders for advice too.

Most importantly, are mopeds fun? A resounding yes! Riding a moped is a joyful experience that will put a smile on your face and wind in your hair.

So, are you ready to join the moped revolution? These little machines offer a unique blend of practicality, affordability, and pure riding fun. Whether you're a seasoned commuter or a weekend enthusiast, there's a moped out there waiting to take you on your next adventure. Get out there, explore your city, and experience the magic of mopeds for yourself!

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Ryuji Omagari

[PROFILE]

Birthday: October 27th (Scorpio)

Blood Type: A

Relatives: Father, mother, younger brother

High School: Unknown

Grade: Third Year

Committee: Athletic Committee

Strong Subjects: Literature, Japanese music

U-17 Training Camp Position & Rank: First String | No.6

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “He who runs after two hares will catch neither.”

Hobbies: Reading (including manga), collecting knickerbockers [TP]

Favorite Color: Blue

Favorite Book: Eccentric books

Favorite Food: Tantanmen, taiyaki

Preferred Type: A person who is open to polyamory

Ideal Date Spot: A club

His Gift for a Special Person: Matching rings

What He Wants Most Right Now: A new headband

Dislikes: Things not being where they should be, people not putting things back where they belong

Skills Outside of Tennis: Speed reading

Routine During the World Cup: Organizing his belongings

[DATA]

Height: 180cm | 5’10”

Weight: 72kg | 158 lbs

Dominant Arm: Ambidextrous

Vision: 1.7 Left & Right

Play Style: Aggressive Baseliner

Signature Moves: Dual Wielding, Wild Tiger, Double Dragon Stroke Drop, Reverse Demon Style

Equipment Brands:

Racket: HEAD YouTek Extreme MP 2.0

Shoes: YONEX POWER CUSHION 226

Overall Rating: Speed: 5 / Power: 5 / Stamina: 7 / Mental: 3 / Technique: 6 / Total: 26

Kurobe Memo: “Dual Wielding, the extreme technique he uses, requires precise racket coordination, fine motor control and a good deal of stamina. He developed his own unique play style during the training camp, making him worthy of praise for his creativity and tenacious spirit that allowed him to crawl up in rankings and land him a place in the First String.” <Official Description>

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Travel Bag [23.5]:

Two books: A romance novel was seen in his right hand and a business book was seen in his left. He can read two books at the same time and calls it “Dual Wielding” as well

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis II 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 09/04/2013

He likes spicy food

He is surprisingly scrupulous; he will actually get angry if a book is not returned to its correct place and is particular over manners. He always gives up his seat to the elderly

He speaks a certain way in Japanese. It is not a dialect, but rather a habit of how he speaks

He is Konomi’s favorite high school character

The Prince of Tennis II 23.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 05/02/2018

He goes to a high-end hair salon in Aoyama

The Prince of Tennis 20th Anniversary Book: Tenipuri Party | Publication Date: 08/02/2019

He is described as a “yankee”

His ideal relationship is one without restraint. A relationship with respect for each other’s lifestyles

He was inspired to try Dual Wielding when he saw an old woman in his neighborhood beating her futon with both hands

He has taken a liking to Oni’s hamster, Kaede

He has a moped license

[galactic-rhea]

GLADLY I'LL ADD MORE.

Inspired by the tags by @a-wisebear "#next morning EXTRA silent. anakin making breakfast for the doll and sighing at the empty seat"

So Obi-Wan puts a hand on Anakin's shoulder whom is eerily silent and still, just staring into the shaft where the baby doll fell and he's very awkward and goes "Those robot dolls are expensive, Anakin" expecting for Anakin to get angry and defensive like he usually does, but Anakin doesn't answer, in fact he does nothing, and Obi-Wan needs to guide him back to their quarters, they can deal with the class later.

But then, the next morning, is like an horror movie for Obi-Wan. Because Obi-Wan wakes up with to most nightmarish, and creepy sound ever: Anakin is fucking singing a huttesse lullaby while making breakfast (because I can totally see Padawan Anakin usually making breakfast for them both lol) and Obi-Wan massages the bridge of his nose as he readies to meet his padawan in the table and then....Is there.

The fricking doll, missing an eye and clearly a bit damaged, is in the baby chair, staring at him from the other side of the room while his fucking 13-14-15 years old Padawan clearly hasn't sleep the whole night doing who-knows-what to retrieve the doll.

Obi-Wan is frozen on the door frame as Anakin turns and happily greets him and serves them all the breakfast. And then just...talks about the doll or something like "Master, I think Jinn needs new clothes...and a new eye :("

"Anakin...did you sleep at all?" Ask Obi-Wan as he slowly approaches the table as tough Anakin is out of his mind, and he probably is. He's a jedi raised to view attachments and family stuff as a No-No. So this display surely must feel like a monk watching a satanic ritual.

They start eating, Anakin completely unaware of Obi-Wan's horrified stare , but he tries to rationalize it, maybe Anakin just wanted to retrieve the doll so the masters from his class don't get too angry, so he asks Anakin if he's going to return the doll after the morning light saber training.

And Anakin looks up, with a completely blank stare "What doll?"

Obi-Wan practically can hear the violins all psychosis style.

"This has gone too far".

Somehow Obi-Wan comes to the conclusion that the doll is Evil (tm) and just grabs Anakin by the arm and starts dragging his padawan (who in exchange, takes carefully the doll on his free arm) to meet the masters of the council because holy kriff he isn't ready to deal with a Teenager with Postpartum(???? psychosis over a doll.

This madness probably ends with the council having to use their magic wizard powers to lowkey jedi-mind-trick Anakin into breaking out of his delusion.

And failing badly the assignament because the whole point was to take care of something and not get attached to it and a very sourly and moping Anakin throwing screws and spanners at the walls because he's Angry (tm) and Embarrassed (tm) but quiet and unable to explain What The Hell Was That Anakin. Not that Obi-Wan really wants to know what was that. He just allows his padawan sigh as he looks at the empty chair.

In summary: This assignation broke his mind for a bit and if it wasn't foreshadowing for everyone witnessing it about how much this kid needs therapy, I don't know what it is Lmao

Do you know how shows always have teens taking care of a babydoll as some sort of homework? Like, I don't know if americans really do that. But Imagine if the Jedi do.

So they give the padawans these baby dolls to take care of for Idk how much time and Anakin, being Anakin, just...is unfairly good at it. He names the baby doll Jinn and imagine Obi-Wan having breakfast with Anakin who's pretending to feed the baby doll thing and just...staring because it's extremely uncomfortable.

Then Obi-Wan shares a tea with Quinlan or idk, any other Jedi and he's looking over at Anakin who is in the background with a damn stroller, while Quinlan's padawan (Ayla, if I'm not mistaken?) already lost one arm of her doll and just left it there on a corner because of course a normal teenager would find this boring. And Obi-Wan is starting to get desperate because "Is this normal? Is this because he wasn't raised in the temple? Is this a Tatooine thing?"

And then the day when the assignation ends finally rolls over and Obi-Wan is relieved because finally he won't have to see more of the absolute horror that is watching a young teenager acting like a great single parent to a doll. And for the first time so far, Anakin gets the best calification ever. But THEN they tell him to retrieve the damn doll and Anakin goes all puffy like "I CAN'T JUST GIVE JINN AWAY"

And the masters are like...trying to placate this teenager who suddenly is having the weirdest reaction they have ever seen and they call Obi-Wan because how they deal with a meltdown over a doll? But Obi-Wan being Obi-Wan just says one of these attachment speeches and extends his hand to ask for the doll and Anakin is already shaking while everyone is like wtf is wrong with this kid. And Anakin just...stright up starts running, that's right, he kidnaps the doll he has been taking care of for what, a month? two months?

So you have the hilarious image of Anakin running with a doll and Obi-Wan running after him yelling at Anakin because of course they would do that.

And I don't know how or what, but then they come closer to some shaft in the temple or maybe a balcony somehow and Obi-Wan tries again to tell Anakin is just a kriffing doll, padawan, isn't alive at all! And Anakin trips and loses the grip on the doll, so the baby doll falls down the shaft.

Cue to Anakin looking in horror sending waves of loss through the force as the babydoll falls while everyone else is just...confused, utterly confused.