#there are a shit ton of plot bunnies running around and I need to start catching them

[coryosbaby]

Ultraviolence // E.L + C.M.

(Pt. 5)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader, Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), some angst and shit parents // nsfw ! Threesome . Spit kink . Degradation & praise . Cum swallowing . Oral (m & f receiving) . Fingering (f receiving), choking, overstimulation — dom! Chad, dom! Ethan, sub! Reader

A/N: If this isn’t necessarily the pt 5 people were hoping for I deeply apologize. This is also more plot than porn. But I have a shit ton of ideas for part 6 that I’m rly excited to post 🤭🤭 Ty for reading 🙌🏻

Ethan’s cock is hot and heavy inside you as he fucks your needy cunt with an aching rage. Your nails are digging into his back, small whimpers slipping from your lips as his teeth bite down on your jugular. His hips cant into you at an incredible pace.

It’s been two days. Maybe three, you haven’t really been counting with how much Ethan has been shoving his cock into any hole on your body that exposes itself to him. He’s taking his anger directed towards his dad out onto you, while Chad watches.

Sure, Chad likes watching you get fucked; there’s no doubt about that. But the way Ethan has been touching you for this long is almost starting to concern him. But he knows he can get this way sometimes. Sometimes Ethan gets the need to blow off steam. After high school the once nerdy guy Chad used to be friends with is now a mean sex fiend.

Not that the other can talk, though. Because he’s been going along with it too, cock flush in his hand while he towers over your face and let’s it rub along the expanse of your kiss bitten lips, his abdomen clenched tight with the ache to release. His apartment is hot today, the summer heat reaching a high of ninety eight degrees. It’s a wonder none of you have passed out yet, even with the a/c running. Sweat drips down Ethan’s neck as he pounds you. Your eyes look up at the both of them, pupils dilated and streaming tears. Ethan’s thumbs move to the corners of your mouth and roughly pull them apart to expose the whites of your teeth.

“Good fucking girl. Yeah, open that mouth wide.” Hes demanding, and you can’t say no as you move your mouth open wider. He grins, his spit landing on your tongue and making your eyes roll back. “You fucking slut. This is all your good for, isn’t it? Being used as a little sex doll. That’s your place now, right? Can’t go anywhere, staying in this fucking bed being our fucking sex slave.”

You nod, fucked out and desperate; you’ve came more times than you can count since Ethan had decided to crash on Chad’s couch and you had showed up. Of course you took breaks, but… that wasn’t too far off from them just doing it so you wouldn’t faint or die from dehydration.

“You wanna taste my cum, bunny?” Chad’s voice growls out. He’s close, hands rubbing against his tip in just the right spot. Your tongue peeks out as you close your eyes and wait for his seed to hit you. And when it does, salty and bitter against your taste buds, Ethan lets out a loud animalistic groan and dumps his third load of the day into you. Your worn, body feeling incredibly hot and used. You’re too fucked out for another orgasm.

“Are you done?” You ask quietly, as Ethan pulls out of your abused cunt. He nods, fingers coming up to run across your jaw and tickle the tips of your ears. Chad moves to lay beside the both of you, his hands going to wrap around your wrist as a form of comfort.

“Yeah, baby. We’re done. C’mere, you have to rest.”

“Can we get McDonald’s after this?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Chad cuts in. “Anything you want.”

“I don’t know,” Ethan jokes. “She has her belly full now, doesn’t she?”

Chad grimaces. “Shut up, dude. That’s gross.”

“You literally swallowed my cum two days ago.”

“Yeah, because you held my head down —“

“You would’ve swallowed it anyway!”

A smile plasters on your face at their antics, and your eyes begin to close as the two boys wrap their arms around you.

Ethan watches the outline of your jaw, your soft neck littered with hickeys and bruises. And then to Chad, who’s hands gently graze his as they rest on your tummy. He smiles.

It’s almost perfect, this way. Chad has a job, Ethan’s working on getting one, and you… you’re here, and you’re perfect and you’re beautiful and—

Ethan is so mad.

It’s almost perfect— but there’s a problem. Of course there is, why fucking wouldn’t there be?

You still live in your parent’s house, after all.

Oh, you could move if you could. You could live with Chad, with Ethan, make things the way you want them to— but your mother is demanding. Threatening to cut off your college tuition money if you left was the part that had made you stay. Even after they accused Ethan of being a perverted freak of a person, after saying you were ‘too innocent’ and ‘too young’ to know what he was doing (you and Ethan are only two years apart).

So after they had left for an emergency business venture you knew where you could go. They told you not to, but it’s not like they’d figure it out. And being locked in your room was really starting to bore you.

Ethan’s blood has been boiling since the night you got caught. He wishes he could give you the money for your college, wishes he could give you the entire fucking world. But that doesn’t work on Chad’s salary and probably won’t work on the one Ethan’s about to have.

He wants you and Chad to only be with him.

That may sound selfish, but Ethan isn’t known for being necessarily generous. He wants the entire world to be cut off from the both of you, wants the only thing you both see to be him. Ethan could tear the world apart limb from limb just to have you and Chad forever.

It’s really starting to fuck with him.

Ethan is starting to scare you a little bit.

It’s not the sex— well, it is a little bit, but you enjoy it. He’s just been so.. out of it, recently.

Not in the sense of ‘he’s losing feelings’ or anything like that. It’s when he gets this look in his eyes. Sometimes when he thinks no else is looking, when those doe eyed things go dark and he seems like he’s thinking of doing something he shouldn’t. You don’t know what it is, exactly. But he looks so far off— as if he’s somewhere else. And he’s become more violent; in sex, in the way he holds you down and then holds Chad down the same way. It’s confusing.

And it’s also making you a bit nervous.

Chad doesn’t seem any different, at least from what you can tell. He’s still his same soft self— outside of sex, of course. He takes Ethan’s behavior in stride (and with a little bit of prep). But you can tell that he notices, too.

“I just think that you should drop out.”

Ethan’s voice is blaring with a twinge of annoyance, as he drives you back to your house. You told him he shouldn’t, that it’s too risky. But he won’t listen. You also know that when he says ‘drop out’ he actually means ‘leave our parents and be with me.’

You roll your eyes, hands going down to adjust your pink sundress.

“I can’t just drop out, Ethan. I have a career I’m set on.”

“We can make it work—“

“Don’t be stupid.” You mutter. His hands tap against the steering wheel impatiently, face turned up into one of anger. His blue shirt clings to him tightly, muscles are prominent.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He snaps.

“Don’t make dumb suggestions.”

After that snide comment he shoves you into the house and bends you over the kitchen counter, regardless of your protests, like he did the first time. And then he left you with cum dripping all down your legs, while you waited for your parents to get home from their trip.

When they did you decided to not eat dinner that night.

Your mom has been on the fence since your secret had been revealed to the Landry household. Ethan — your stepbrother — has been fucking you for months.

You still remember the sound of Wayne’s voice screaming at the both of you:

“How could you do this?! After everything we’ve done for the both of you?!”

“You’re a disappointment to me, Ethan. I want you out!”

And then after, when Ethan had left, the words spewed at you.

“I can’t believe you would be such a whore.”

“How could you do this to our family? To me?!”

“You’re never seeing him again.”

Yeah, right.

You sigh, plopping down onto your bed. It’s almost time for you to go to college, the summer ending.

What a wild story you could tell if you had an essay due about your summer.

Your parents are downstairs, now. Doing— you don’t really know what they’re doing. You don’t come down from your room anymore.

A text dings on your phone. You smile.

E🫶🏻: you okay?

me: mhm

You pause. You bite your lip as you assemble to next message.

me: I miss u :)

A moment for him to reply.

E🫶🏻: I miss you too, bunny

E🫶🏻: chad said he misses you too

me: I miss u both >:(

me: we’ll see each other more when I’m away at college tho <3

E🫶🏻 : maybe I have a way to make us be with each other all the time :)

me: oh yeah lover boy? And what would that be

E🫶🏻: you’ll see.

Your brows furrow. A surprise, maybe? A gift? Maybe a new way for you to sneak out…

You don’t know. But your eyes are beginning to become heavy and sleepy; you tell him and Chad both good night and begin to sleep.

Your dreams have become nightmares, more or less. Images of blood and gore, a hand holding on a little too tight — it’s been the same for the past few nights. Your family, slaughtered.

A loud crash makes your eyelids flutter open.

You think you’ve only been asleep a few hours. Your hello kitty clock reads 2:37 a.m in giant bold letters, and your heart beats harshly against your chest at the sudden sound. Furrowing your brows, but being cautious, you grab the pink pocket knife you kept beside your bed. It isn’t much, but it’s something, at least. Creeping closer to the door you can hear that the noise has stopped— but that doesn’t calm you. You think of waking up your parents but you don’t want to make them any more mad than they already are.

You open your door. No one is outside your room, it seems. The sound must’ve come from downstairs. Creeping down the wooden steps you go into the living room and see that it’s empty.

Except for the window.

The one near the couch is wide open, and you can see that a house plant beside it got knocked over and broke all to pieces. You gulp, hands gripping the knife tighter. Your dreams have made you extremely paranoid, and if there really is an intruder, you won’t go down without a fight.

Another crash— from the kitchen this time, but not as loud as before. It was more of just.. commotion. You prepare yourself, breath heavy. You make your way to the doorway, prepared to strike and stab and hit….

Someone grabs you.

The knife clatters to the ground. So much for protecting yourself! Your immediate thought is to scream, but no words come out and a hand is covering your mouth. When they whirl you around and begin laughing your brows furrow and hot tears well up from the stress.

….It’s fucking Ethan.

He’s standing there, a shit eating grin on his face, wearing a muscle tee and jeans.

You sneer, pushing him harshly as you wipe your eyes.

“You fucking asshole!” you whisper yell. “You scared the fuck out of me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

He chuckles. “Sorry, sweetness. It’s just so funny to see the look on your face.”

You sniffle, crossing your arms and willing yourself not to cry anymore. “‘S not funny.”

Ethan’s smile drops, his hands reaching out wrap you into a hug. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, promise.”

He doesn’t seem that sorry, but you drop the subject.

“You literally broke in, Ethan. What if mom and dad wake up? You’ll be in so much trouble, i swear— they’ll call the fucking police on you—”

Your words stop when he turns his back to you, stalks into the kitchen, and begins rummaging through the house’s well renowned junk drawer.

“Calm down, baby. I just needed to get my watch. I forgot it before I moved… aha! There it is!”

He excitedly turns around and shows you the black and red band. He slips it around his wrist. You roll your eyes, and scoff.

“You broke into the house so you could take a watch?”

He gives you a mischievous look. He moves closer to you and his lips graze yours. You can’t help but smile.

“Maybe I came to take something else with me, too.”

You bite your lip, but your eyes go to the stairs.

“We can’t do that here. We’ll get caught.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Ethan quips. He sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll just be on my way then..”

“No!” Your immediate to keep him here. To keep him with you. You aren’t the same without his company.

He smiles, lips grazing your neck. His teeth scrape against it and you admire the sting. “There’s my good girl.”

You kiss him, harsh. He tastes fresh and sweet. His hands find your waist and he pushes you against the kitchen counter. You whine, your hands reaching for the bulge in his pants— but your wrist hits his pocket and you feel something inside of it. You reach in, playful. But when you pull it out, it’s the pocket knife you dropped earlier. He must’ve picked it up when you weren’t looking.

“Why do you need my knife?” You ask, as his lips peck your chin and jawline. He looks down, at it in your hands, white teeth shining as he smiles.

“Maybe I like to have a part of you with me wherever I go.”

It’s endearing. But this feeling settles in your stomach— something you can’t quite place. However, you slide the blade back into his pocket and begin to kiss him again. His fingers are right there, just about to brush over your clit.

And out of the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs light flicker on.

You panic, lips breaking away from Ethan’s as you hear footsteps. You’ve lived long enough in the house to know who’s it is— it’s your mother’s. Your eyes widen.

“Hide!”

Ethan mouths the words oh shit before running into the living room. You pray he finds a decent hiding spot. Your mom comes down the stairs, in her robe and with messy hair. She seems like she’s just woken up.

“Is there someone else down here with you?” She says, confused.

You shake your head, nervously biting your thumbnail.

“No, mom. No one is down here. It’s just me.”

“Huh.”

She looks around and she walks into the living room. You follow her in fear, and when you catch Ethan’s sneakers underneath the window curtain you almost fucking scream in frustration. Your mother is too busy looking at her broken plant and the opened window for her to notice.

“Oh my god! Did someone break in?” She exclaims. Your heart beats rapidly.

“Uhm— no!” You say, exasperated and lying.

You try your best to think up a good fake story. “I slept-walked again, i think. I’ve been meaning to tell you… it’s been a while but I think it’s starting up again.”

You haven’t slept-walked since you were twelve. Your mom sighs, annoyed.

“Shit. I’ll call the doctor in the morning, then. We’ll see if he can find anything for it. Because if it’s to the point where you’re breaking things and opening windows..”

“—That’s not necessary, mom, really.”

“I’m calling them, y/n.” She states. She looks you up and down for a moment. If you don’t know any better you think a look of disgust is on her face. “For once in your life, please make yourself useful and clean this up.”

Your head hangs down, and you bite your lower lip to keep from snapping at her. “Yes ma’am.”

When she goes back up stairs, Ethan comes out of his hiding spot. You breathe out a sigh of relief, but Ethan’s fists are clenched.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.” He says.

You shrug, threading your fingers through his. His curls are sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed. He’s absolutely precious, even when he’s angry.

“Doesn’t matter, E. Forget about it.”

He narrows his eyes at the stairs, as if she was standing there and he could see her. Your thoughts go back to the knife and you get that feeling again. But your lips are back on his in an instant and it seems that Ethan quickly forgets his rage. His hand rests on the back of your head as he tries to drag you to the couch. But you shake your head and giggle.

“Not here. I’m not getting caught fucking you again.”

“Technically, we weren’t fucking.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Still.”

So you drag him up the stairs. It’s scary, because your parents are also up there, but at least you’re both better concealed. He fucks you raw on the bed and chokes you with his incredibly toned arms. And then he lays with you and you both smoke a joint out the window so it doesn’t smell.

But even then, and even after he left, your thoughts still linger on the knife he had taken with him.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[jiang-chengs-cool-whip]

Oh also before I finished the first arc I thought the Four Kings of Heaven were a polycule. Between the Junior Trio/Quartet from MDZS/CQL and everyone looking at the prosekai groups and going "is it a band or are they just all dating?" my brain was primed for assumptions. I may be stupid. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠';)

On one hand I'm kinda happy they did what they did with the four but on the other as soon as I finish this series I am going to open up AO3 and see if anyone's done a fic or if I have to do God's work myself.

A whole bunch of Sailor Moon rambles

AFDJAGKSDJAGDKSGLFKAS I love it so much? I remember trying to read the manga in high school and deciding it wasn't my thing but I so wish I stuck with it. Mako is absolutely my favorite I thought it would be Ami because the nerdy characters are usually my favorites but no I was wrong.

Also eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Usagi and Mamoru are so cuuuuuuuuteeeeeeeeee. >< It's so rare for me to like the main couple in a show I think the only other times this happened was with Heaven's Official Blessing and Let's Dance a Waltz. (^^;;;)

Also also anyone who has watched crystal do you know if their princess forms (selves? Listen I'm trying for minimal spoilers here) show up in the series at all? I've seen some official art and I know it's like a general thing but idk if/when they show up in this version. It's just that pretty dresses activate some part of my brain I don't know why and I don't particularly ask too many questions but the princess art is doing things only to my brain that the ballroom scene from Emma season 2 did.

[hansolmates]

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 

You scream. 

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 

“Well… is he at least cute?” 

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 

“Tasteful nudes.” 

“I’m gonna die.” 

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 

Of course, he’s stupid hot. 

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?” 

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 

“You think right.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ??? 

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird. 

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 

You choke on your saliva. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 

“It was.” 

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 

[bunnyandbirb]

Summer 2017 Bunny’s Anime Review: Katsugeki/Touken Ranbu

Current Episode Count: 7/? MyAnimeList.Net Rating: 6.8/10

I’m not gonna lie. I was trying to find a show to watch for this post and had no idea what to watch. Birb gave me a few suggestions and I was like “Nah…” to all of them. Then she says “Watch the new pretty boy samurai anime.” So I immediately found the first episode without knowing a damn thing about it. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad. The music is beautiful and the art is really compelling. It does have that slight 3D feel to it that reminds you it was based on a game. I’ll run through the plot quick before getting to the important stuff.

Katsugeki/Touken Ranbu follows a group of samurai, called Sword Warriors, that are attempting to stop history from being changed by the Time Retrograde Army. Each of the samurai were once swords who were given human bodies when their masters died (Fun fact: they are all named after real weapons that were created. Historical accuracy bitches). The leader of the samurai, Saniwa, has the ability to detect time anomalies so they have a general idea of when the army is going to try and change time. Every time they go back, they use knowledge of history to figure out what events should take place and stop the army from interfering. The first 5 episodes follow the newly created Second Unit who are attempting to stop the army in the 1863. The next 2 episodes seem to be about the First Unit. It’s not clear yet if the rest of the show will switch units again or what will happen. That’s enough to get you started. There honestly isn’t a ton more to say about the actual plot. But there is a ton to say about the very pretty samurai. I’m gonna break it down for you by character, mostly just focusing on the second unit.

Izuminokami Kanesada

Kanesada is the main character of the show and eventually captain of the Second Unit. He has that typical anime samurai look to him so I was expecting for him to be the cool and aloof type. When we first meet him, when he’s fighting the Time Retrograde Army, he does fight with that “This is so easy” kind of feeling. Although he might have aspects of that stereotype in him, he also freaks out a good amount too. When the first mission of the Second Unit ends poorly, Kanesada questions his leadership ability and if history was really not altered since so many people died. At this point in the series, it does seem that he’s starting to question if what they are doing is good or not. Kanesada has a rivalry with Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki. I love his hair so much, even if I’m not the biggest fan of his character.

Horikawa Kunihiro (a.k.a. The Weak One)

Horikawa is the other main character. He is a new Sword Warrior and is the assistant to Kane-san, as he calls him. His outfit looks a lot more like a dapper English gentleman. I don’t really know why. He’s definitely the typical “I’m in everyone’s way” type of character and often doubts his own abilities. He never really makes major mistakes but for some reason still decides he’s doing terribly. Horikawa is probably my least favorite of the pretty boy samurai. I was waiting for him to have some sort of epic moment but most of the time he’s just there. He really just serves the purpose of giving a reason for the other characters to explain what is happening so the audience can also understand. There really isn’t a lot to say about him.

Mutsunokami Yoshiyuki (a.k.a Naruto Uzumaki)

Okay so Mutsunokami’s name is obviously not Naruto. But he is literally the same type of character. Loud and impulsive? Check and check. Spends most of his time talking about food or eating? Check.  Is more devoted to saving people than anyone else? Check. They’re all orphans since they started as swords, so I won’t count that as a character trait. But everything else is basically a perfect match. He even has a rivalry with another character (although it is never quite clear why him and Izuminokami hate each other so much). The coolest thing about him is that he’s the only character who uses a gun as well as a sword. Of course, he’s very trigger happy but it does allow for a different fighting style that probably suits his character more. Also, he’s ripped as fuck.

Yagen Toushirou (a.k.a. Mr. Short Shorts)

Okay, I’m not gonna lie; Yagen is probably my favorite. Which makes me uncomfortable. Because of those damn shorts (see below for legs)! Yagen is the most confusing character. He has a very shouta feel to him with his outfit and his purple eyes. But his voice is surprisingly deep. He’s definitely the edgy, angsty one who also happens to look like a school boy. There was one scene where Yagen scoff/smirked and I was sold. He’s the rogue type character. Two smaller knives are his weapon of choice and he also has a basic knowledge of medicine (of course there’s a scene of him fixing his own wound). True to form, his backstory is a little bit of a mystery and he isn’t very talkative. It is clear though that he holds a few of the other warriors in high esteem and doesn’t really look down on people. It confuses me that the shortest pretty boy is also my favorite but I’m trying to just accept it.

Tonbokiri

Tonbokiri is the buff, experienced warrior. He has the most brute strength of all of them but isn’t as impulsive as Mutsunokami. He uses a spear to fight which is pretty cool. In an RPG, he’d be the typical tank warrior type. When they have to fight an Ootachi, a much stronger demon, Tonbokiri is the one who holds off the demon while the others leave to fight elsewhere. He can take a decent amount of damage and has some pretty high stamina. He’s also the self-sacrificing type (important in a tank) and ends up severely injured during the Ootachi fight. Don’t worry, he ends up being alright. I don’t really have much to say about him. He spent a whole episode basically in a coma so he’s behind on the character development front. I like his magenta hair?

Tsurumaru Kuninaga

Tsurumaru is the last member of the Second Unit that we are introduced to. He doesn’t make an appearance until episode 4. When the Second Unit ends up fighting a much bigger army than they expected, he gets sent back in time to join the fight. He’s probably my second favorite member. While Yagen is the angsty type, Tsurumaru is the troublemaker type. He talks shit to the demons while they are fighting and gets yelled at for being a troublemaker when the unit goes back to the Citadel (the home base for the Sword Warriors). We don’t know a ton about his character yet since he has only been around for a few episodes, but I’m interested to see where they go with his character. His white hair and gold eyes are pretty cool. He almost looks like the typical “terminally ill” character (think Bleach) but I’m pretty sure he’s not. I hope.

Bonus: Konnosuke

I almost forgot! Each unit is given a talking fox who basically acts as the liaison between Saniwa and the group. The foxes can record what is happening so they can check that no history has been altered. They also basically are databases and can search who is in the area and what important events will take place within a span of time. Konnosuke is the fox who travels with the Second Unit. He really likes deep fried tofu. We meet a couple more of the foxes in the other episodes and it’s obvious they all have slightly different personalities.

The Rest

I’ll quickly run through the names of the rest of the pretty boys because you can never have too many pretty boys.

Saniwa

He seems to be the one who is in charge of everyone. He can detect the time anomalies and is definitely very powerful. His eyes are fucking huge.

Yamanbagiri Kunihiro

The newly appointed captain of the First Unit. I love his voice. He’s obviously ashamed about his sword past but it’s currently a mystery. He’s in the running to be my favorite

Mikazuki Munechika

The oldest Sword Warrior. He seems sketchy to me and I feel like he has a hidden agenda. He’s probably the best fighter but pretends he’s too old to fight.

Higekiri and Hizamaru

Twins, since every pretty boy show needs to have a set of twins. The one in black is the most excitable. The one in white seems a little bit like a psychopath. We’ll see.

Oodenta Mitsuyo

Extremely violent. The only character we’ve seen who just straight up punches some of the demons. Could easily go on a killing rampage and it would be in character.

That’s most of the pretty boys, or at least the ones I care about. If you want a show just to look at cute guys, watch this. If you want a really good plot and interesting characters, you can probably skip this. I’ll probably watch the whole damn thing (thanks Birb).

~ Stay tuned for nonsense ~

[elizabethrobertajones]

12x11 watching notes

For once I think it's kind of obvious what my expectations are if you've been reading my blog... I also was spoiled last night after it aired that my favourite reoccurring guest star is in it, but on the other hand there's a ton of second hand embarrassment... I've just got back from yoga so let's try and be zen and enjoy it :P

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Also it's not a plot episode so I can be a bit more chill and enjoy the MotW nonsense without writing 100 miles of meta. I hope

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Witches! (we already knew that, I'm just putting another note into "the only actual monster we've seen so far has been the one werewolf and one vampire Mary killed and everyone else has been a human, angel or demon this season" jar

I need a better label for that jar

Anyway from the looks of things this episode is all about a very human fear that just happens to be tripped by witchcraft and it would be a fucking waste not to milk it for 99% of the episode)

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Holy shit they used the "poor little guy" from 3x09 that always breaks my heart. Are they really churning up old Edlund stuff so much that the recap was 90% 3x09 and they decided to give Dean a bunny BECAUSE of his broken heart at the sight of the dead bunny in 3x09?

I really hope Edlund is watching this season and laughing like crazy

Anyway before the promo is even over, we have an interesting point of thought for the episode, and a comparison back to Dean revealing a weird vulnerability for no reason in the middle of a case. And more Edlund parallels than you can shake a stick at.

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Oh good the cold open is the witch who curses Dean... Definitely going to milk this for all it's worth. This is like fan fics where the first like 3 paragraphs are "and then they met a witch and it cursed them and then ran off or got killed" and all the rest is just whatever they actually wanted to write.

More Dean running around in woods (Purgatory callbacks), and mirroring a few episodes which started with the traditional cold open victim actually being the monster pursued by hunters.

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Dean waking up lying in the forest on the ground... He's done that a few times, in more dire circumstances I've seen paralleled together - 11x01 and 5x04. Interestingly I guess knocked out both times by a dark mirror to himself but who would never actually harm him. There's something peaceful about the way he has the bunny hanging out with him.

It makes him seem harmless too.

...

You know I could stop watching this show right here... I've seen 12x10 and now I've seen Dean Winchester calmly pick up a rabbit and call it "buddy" I mean... is there even anywhere to go from here?

But I've heard Kuma is in the episode so I shall press on

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Like, emotionally though, I think the show might be over for me :P

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The town is called "Eureka Springs" which is kind of funny, because of the double water association and of course the association to revelation and learning. We gonna get a  big scientific discovery about Dean outside of the now doubly confirmed fact that rabbits are his favourite animal?

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KUMA

Oh dang he's got a big part here... Do I gif all of it?

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I should probably backtrack because I was just reading myself writing about 2x20 for some reason this morning (I think I was looking for something else completely unrelated) and I stumbled on a little discussion about subverting it or, well, its obvious relevance now Mary is around. The woman with the stroller assumes Dean is homeless and tells him not to buy a drink when she gives him some cash, which I guess was a thing in that episode that everyone assumed Dean was a drunk. It's a tiny detail (I mean, he IS an alcoholic, although functioning better than usual and his drinking has got a lot better since he lost the Mark) but if we're peeling back Dean, I think an interesting little one to start with.

I mean, we've started with Purgatory!Dean, and Actual Fluffy Bunny Lover Dean, so... it's a bit wild.

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Dean remembers Sam's number.

Not where he is though.

Waffles! I'm with Dean here.

I too drop everything in a crisis when waffles are an option and someone's just paid me to leave them alone.

(Okay that's never happened - I'm delightful)

"What psycho doesn't love waffles" I mean come on even METATRON loved waffles, although they did not love him. Which is perhaps a more important sign of how dreadful he was :P

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Ah jeeze I really want waffles.

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Promo scene!

We have NO idea what Dean did the night before, so the thing with the girl is even more out of context... I wonder what it will end up being about? He looked like he was pretty busy hunting that witch last night. Events do not add up.

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Sam has been convinced by Dean asking for painkillers that it's a hangover, and I think *Dean*, knowing himself, might think he just got blackout drunk somehow. The woman telling him not to buy a drink remains vaguely important, thematically...

-

Sam also is getting concerned, and makes a general life advice warning to Dean to stop drinking so much.

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Okay the girl who slapped Dean comes in, looks at him and goes "oh my god" and is ushered away by her friend - did THAT happen in the promo?

No, no it did not. Her response is given way more attention here - that was definitely edited out for the promo. Crafting the scene to look like something different. Huh. (I mean I know they've used different takes in promos, like in 10x01 using one which completely changed how much of a jerk Demon!Dean looked from the finished product... They do really manipulate these things.)

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I really like how we're dumped on this case like Dean is - we only have one advantage, that we're already aware he's cursed while he isn't. Aside from that, we seem to be discovering it like Dean is, like how Sam springs the idea we're going to the morgue next on us.

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Also did Dean lick his knife more intently in the promo asking for a friend

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Huh I don't think her interaction with him has changed very much - I'm pretty sure she did just say hi then slap him in the promo too. The way she stopped when she saw him though is very suspicious because she sounded so horrified to see him.

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Oh no Sam and Dean are wearing nice coats with their suits. I guess there's gonna be a lot of gifs :P

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Really pretty morgue technician with no lines. Honestly if she doesn't get killed off that will mean finally after a lousy streak, we make it through an episode without a black woman being killed.

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Well the first thing to go is Dean's ability not to be squeamish and weird. There's definitely a text post out there making fun of Dean for spending a year in Purgatory covered in guts, but getting weird about using a public telephone. Well, whatever barrier Dean has up about guts is aaall gone.

Please don't puke, we've made it over a season without you puking on screen and we're doing so well.

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Oh no is this where Dean crashes the car. He's disappearing fast :< I thought that might be later in the episode.

I suppose Sam has to realise eventually that something is wrong with Dean.

I can't believe Sam lets Dean drive when he's "plastered"... I mean he must drive over the legal limit basically all the time and Sam's used to it, but can we just... make this a "wear seatbelts" road safety episode? Please take that car away from him, Sam.

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OH NO Sam takes this moment for honesty hour - "Makes me want to crawl into a bottle too" - when Sam is drinking we KNOW it because he so rarely does it as a coping mechanism. I am indescribably sad about him saying that he feels this way :(

I mean I just take it for granted that Dean feels like shit so it's easier to deal with that :P I've been worried about Sam all season and he gives so few clues it's basically a pictures on a board linked with red string scenario to deduce if he's happy or not >.>

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FINDING DORY REFERENCE

"Not going to apologise for loving that fish. Not to you, not to anyone." Dean has his barriers down and he does not care who knows he likes watching Disney movies. And the fact that it's probably Sam he's most prickly around when it comes to protecting that facade... Sam is, well, gonna learn a lot about Dean he feels like he probably didn't want to know :P

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Honestly, Dean is me trying to remember the names of common household appliances.

There's something really bitchy about the way Sam labels the light stick and then covers the rest of the room in post it notes, even though Dean hasn't forgotten what they all are yet.

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Rowena! :D Mostly because Dean doesn't want to bother Mom or Cas... I notice something there - Cas is someone who a few years ago they'd have absolutely bothered for some weird magical problem. Now Dean wants to keep EMOTIONALLY distant from them because they're his family and he doesn't want to worry them/them to see him like this/him to blurt anything he doesn't remember he isn't supposed to say... In this case the fact that Dean DOESN'T want to call Cas for help sure says a lot more about how much he likes him.

Anyway Rowena is a badass and I love how she gets into these weird scenarios. This one is much better than all the finding a rich husband and killing him malarky - fleecing rich dudes over rigged poker games is definitely more empowering :P

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Okay yeah one of those post it notes says "Wall" - there is definitely a montage we missed of Sam being a hilarious bitch about it to Dean, and they're only phoning for help once it got kind of really not funny any more.

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I wish we saw that

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Dean and his "ICE BUCKET" what a tragedy

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"All these dumps look the same" Dude, don't be rude to Wanek. I'll assume this is because you can't REMEMBER them.

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Also the whole, living in a billion motels and until recently never having a place to call home thing - I was joking ages ago about Dean keeping a scrapbook about all the weird motels they went to or stealing mementos from them to remember the truly tacky ones... But the idea that almost all of them completely blur in his mind and he just doesn't notice or appreciate the differences...

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I love using Dean's "the last thing I kinda sorta remember" to take us to the office. They mentioned Memento but honestly I'm still thinking "Dude where's my car" although I know Dabb hasn't watched that because he's deathly afraid of Emus, so it's possible Glynn had to sell the Memento angle despite having other things in mind.

Like Finding Dory

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Dean steals a cigar (or two) - more implications that he smokes. I suppose when an angel heals you regularly or you were immortal for like a year and a half you kind of don't think of the consequences. I know some people don't really *smoke* smoke, but would have a good cigar if it came their way like this... I think Dean kind of has smoked in phases through the show, especially when he was younger, never mind all the implications he smokes weed, so... him stealing a few cigars is just more sneaky referencing this.

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To the bar! Hey, waitress Dean got slapped by!

We have more stuff with the names and badges - Dean messing up getting his badge out in time because he forgets to do it, forgetting what their cover is... Basically, a little demonstration that he's forgetting their covers in general - HIS covers in general. The FBI identity is something I've written reams on so I won't go into it but yeah it's his Performing!Dean next layer up, and what he does with it can often tell us stuff about how he's acting with his more sturdy and thorough Performing!Dean layer underneath, before we get to fluffy bunny lover Dean who watches Finding Dory.

Anyway she calls him out for using ANOTHER name the night before, and he's like "sometimes we have to lie to protect our cover" which is the most Dean saying ever.

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Oh hey and then as usual with the badge thing, a moment later we're slammed with something RIDICULOUS like, for example:

"And then you hit the bull." "What??" < both Winchesters "Oh yeah, you had the hots for Larry as soon as you walked in." "He - you... rode Larry?" *Dean shrugs like whatever* "Was I good?"

yeah so that's not a coded conversation that sounds SUPER FUCKING GAY out of context and considering the "hots for Larry" comment, doesn't do so badly IN context, especially as it's such a, uh, suggestive thing :P There's a girl riding it in the background and yeah, the whole movement to keep on the bull? I know it seems like a manly sport, but it involves a lot of writhing and pelvic movement and that bull is like as masculine an icon as you can get.

And Dean had the hots for it

oh god :P

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Worked to win the waitress over anyway :P

And she apologises for taking advantage of him. Wow. I don't think Sam and Dean even know what all those words mean put together in that order. :P

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"First action in I don't know how long, and it's like it never even happened. Figures." "See now that's comedy"

When WAS the last time Dean hooked up? Back in season 11 some time... 11x13 it was suggested. (I have a lot of Snymelo vibes from this episode)

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Honestly Cas is living right at the Bunker just man up and go talk to him and I guarantee that I could get you some action in about 2 lines of dialogue if you let me...

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(Sadly last episode actually convinced me that there's really good reasons Cas hasn't made a move and Dean is pining unsuccessfully after him so I can't even be mad :P)

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"It's like watching myself on netflix" Aw

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"I know how to shoot a gun!??"

:D Oh sweetie

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Sam giving Dean the Talk.

No that sort of talk. the "monsters are real" talk.

You know who does that? CRAZY PEOPLE.

Nope, "Awesome. That's awesome."

He's feeling a bit better about the job I guess than back in Yellow Fever where he had the equivalent moment.

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Aw he found a torch! He's so happy! "I'll man the flashlight" Yeah this is Yellow Fever again :P

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Oh god we're only 18 minutes what can possibly-

Jesus Christ Siren Episode reference You've not talked about that for EIGHT YEARS.

See, last night I compared these 2 episodes before this one ever aired with the assumption that the Yellow Fever parallels might be obvious but the Siren Episode would only be a sort of leech onto that because of its own parallels to Yellow Fever so we would have to walk through YF as an intro to the Siren Episode and how it could be applied to this one

(Sue me I was already planning the meta and this episode is following the exact same pattern as Yellow Fever and the Siren Episode so I'm feeling really vindicated, right about now :P)

The point I made LAST night was that Sam had been reading Dean wrong all this time and messing up his chance to understand him in the previous episodes. This time, Sam doesn't really have any reason why he'd get Dean wrong? The enemy of the season is miscommunication and not understanding Dean is Sam's biggest miscommunication.

Whether he's taking advantage of Dean's cheerful no-memory state, and the suspicion Dean won't remember him bringing it up again or what, Sam feels secure telling Dean about the Siren, at least I assume not telling Dean HE was attracted to it, but that this is a thing that happens. Dean can't lash out, Dean doesn't feel defensive... He just takes this information as Sam tells it to him without being weird about it.

The fact Sam remembered and wanted to tell Dean though... Well, like I said, Yellow Fever and the Siren Episode are basically the same thing ESPECIALLY from Sam's perspective. Here he is for the 3rd time and Dean's all fucked up again, and no wonder Sam remembers.

He also mentioned Djinn "not granting wishes" which means my reference to 2x20 earlier was super legit. *more smugness*

(sorry :P This episode is fun. I like that the new writers have watched the show)

Anyway, I'll be thriving off that reminder for a while :D Better carry on watching before I get sucked into a vortex of comparing episodes before I even know how this one goes.

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Aw Sam calls it "the Talk"

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"Best job ever!"

Dean thinks they sound like heroes, Sam, who has the lived experience, voices some actual goddamn complaints about the job. GO SAM. I guess he's thinking Dean won't remember this conversation and so he can voice some things.

So HE does the "you know who does that? CRAZY PEOPLE" speech that Dean didn't make.

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AAAAAAAAAAAAH Bloody handprint. "Our best friend's an angel! WHaaaaaat!!!" I worry :P

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Cas will be fine, I don't think Jared's even had his 3rd kid yet. Misha needs to give them all paternity leave by having more Cas-centric episodes.

What a beautiful set up. Smol babies and more Cas.

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But yeah something horrid might happen to Cas briefly.

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Also Sam told Dean that he was "our best friend" and so Dean is totally failing to grasp exactly what Cas means to him.

He probably only remembers Sam as well as he does because he's right in front of him - if Dean had been with Mary or Cas he'd have forgotten the other 2

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"Is that a dead guy?"

Dean looks grossed out but also "Cool!" because dead monster.

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Witches! These guys seem like fun people.

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"I want my family back" she says while having Mary's hair and looking at the dead guy.

Oh dear.

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"Is that a dead guy?"

Sam needs to get a post it note for the dead guy.

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ROWENA

"your hair is so bouncy" I think Dean is full of cute observations like this he's just never allowed to say and I think that's so sweet I might barf.

(You should hear how he talks about Cas ANYWAY)

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Dean remembers porn but not quality TV oh dear >.> Sam puts Scooby Doo on for him, which I guess is sort of Dean's role in this episode :P More dogs on TV - reminder of the second "dog that thinks it's people" line with the person who said it the first time in the room...

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"Dean Winchester is going to die." "Sucks for that guy!" Well at least he's happy :P

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Sam drags him away for a toilet conversation

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Dean briefly regains a sense of self and is miserable

Sam why did you do that

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"You know, I've seen my brother die, but watching him become... not him. This might actually be worse" Please, you watched him descend into the Mark of Cain and then babysat demon!Dean for an episode, this isn't new :P

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OH SHIT here's the "my name is Dean Winchester" speech and it's delivered directly into a mirror I am not going to make it

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That was terrible also can I have a new heart something happened to this one *shows a box of shards to the cashier*

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Sam don't be bitchy to Rowena when she's the only one who can help.

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And Dean is struggling to remember anything

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Oh nooooo

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Poor Dean :( :( :(

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or whoever he is

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Sam is putting Dean's life on the line to be weird about Rowena helping them.

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OH NO Dean's still struggling with it

"I don't know"

*wails*

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"Stop touching everything!"

I kind of love poor Dean when he's like this :( He's so sweet and... I don't know. Living in the moment because that's all he's got.

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Also who is that voodoo doll of because they're having a terrible day too.

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Aww Rowena already hates the British Men of Letters, so I guess she'll be helping later.

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"These witches sound like dicks. I think you have plenty of snuff."

Dean interpreted that she was talking about herself despite not knowing anything. Dean is good at subtext.

Also that has real echoes of "Doug's a dick, you deserve better" which made me squeee over Dean x Donna although obviously as the waitress said, it would be completely taking advantage of Dean so Rowena better not butter him up too much while his barriers are down. Especially as Dean has a "ugh witches!" gag reflex while himself.

It's also interesting that this is a barriers down thing for him to say. He was still getting over ACTUALLY being roofied when they talked to Donna that time, and I didn't think Dean was totally out of it there because he was engaged quite well in the conversation, but heh, it's an interesting comparison.

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"What a gift not to remember the things you've done!"

Oh no don't TELL him, Rowena.

"You're a killer" "scores of people" *gagging* "the greater good" (hey we had a "the greater good" earlier this season, right? I was laughing about the parallels to Hot Fuzz... Was it something the BMoL said? I see to recall paralleling their control of England to the baddies' control of the village)

I like that Dean and Rowena both have a gag reflex about each other's professions. But really loving this dynamic.

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He might forget in a minute that Rowena told him he was a killer, at least.

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Rowena having honesty hour because like Sam she's assuming Dean won't remember this (as you might have guessed I am fascinated about what Dean DOES remember about this)

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"Power's what matters" Oh my god she's had actual character growth about this because of having to watch God and Amara suck at being the most powerful beings in the universe. Haaa.

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Rowena does love nose-booping Dean

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Sam is being pretty dangerous and scary in that way he gets when Dean is dying. Why do I get the feeling he's about to get a lesson in  being reckless.

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I wonder what the butterflies symbolise. We've seen them on the show before, but in very different contexts. Hope someone else is on that because I have no immediate ideas. Like that they re-animate to cause harm. Not sure how much symbolism here for what though :P

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Aw Rowena does care :D in her own way. No respect for the car. Pfft.

(I feel like someone's gonna be all "Dean remembered Sam when he was in danger!"  but the phone is right there with his name on so I'm not sure)

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Having Gideon laid out like that is pretty ominous...

"We can bring him back!"

Yeah, okay, that was fairly obvious since he was still in the room the whole time :P

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Wow guess they're swapping Sam for him or something.

- Aw Rowena wearing a long black coat and being badass.

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Eeeeee more Rowena backstory.

I love her so much.

I mean everything we learn about her is so sad but it makes her motivations to be badass and not take any shit and obtain wealth and have nice hair really sympathetic :P

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I am really loving how they're making Rowena more sympathetic.

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Grenade launcher: DENIED

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I swear to god this had better be building to Dean shooting it in 12x23 as the crowning moment of awesome for the season or what is even the point

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Are these all Rowena's notes or did Sam leave the ones in the trunk

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Whoever did it (I shall have to look at your handwriting again) you did good.

BUT

It was using Dean as a weapon. He had no idea who he was, no purpose, just these orders/suggestions and he went on instinct, couldn't even talk, COULD fire a gun, and had enough instinct to load the gun, walk into the house, and fight the witches.

I'm reminded of 9x21 (which I will be watching up next! Aaaah the dang rewatch! And GAVIN coming back...... Although maybe the new and improved Rowena might make that more interesting)... Whoops I... forgot... What I was saying. Uh. 9x21. Dean in the middle of the dark decent. Goes to kill Abaddon (mirrored in the fight with Lily and Ishim last episode), and for the entire scene from the moment he comes in the door, I think until they leave the building, Dean does not speak a word. He just goes in there on instinct, charges Abaddon, and pushes through he wall-shoving to get her, all on this brutal killer instinct that Rowena has reminded Dean he had.

Dean with no sense of self was very cute and goofy, but he retained his moral code (killing monsters bad, person who kills monsters hero) and he retained his killer instinct, so stripping him right down like that, I think this was the message of what has been programmed deepest into Dean, the things that would go last when everything else about him was disappearing. And considering I've been working through the last few episodes of season 9 lately, I'm chilled. :S Especially that the back up plan was to throw Dean at them as a weapon (I wonder if Rowena did it then, because Sam didn't have the thought Dean would do it, unless he labelled it all when they knew it was witches, but earlier in the episode when he was going on  his labelling spree)

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Dean takes Sam on total trust as well about who is the witch and who is his brother. We don't know if that was his instinct or being obedient to what he was told... I'm guessing this is going to be something with 2 readings.

I'm assuming the cheap answer is the love of his brother runs that deep and instinctively he would know.

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Why was Sam NOT at the restoration... Aside from for setting up "who's this hippy"

I mean they even used the sad family music! What jerks :P

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Probably best to piss Sam off immediately so to avoid soppy hugs.

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"Can't believe you called Rowena" "Can't believe you rode Larry" "Hey, I was awesome on that bull."

THAT'S your take away from this, Sam? I mean I'm thrilled but that's just... hilarious.

Especially as they don't mention the waitress again so the reminder is all about Larry and not about Dean's other conquest of the night :P I’m laughing.

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Does this episode end with Sam leaving the super powerful book of spells on top of the impala and Dean drives off and it falls in the street

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I say this because I'm feeling emotional about Rowena implying Dean should talk to her if he remembers their conversation, and Sam is now talking about how he's jealous of Dean's no-memories buzz

Dean is like “our life sucks but if I was happy I wouldn’t have a shot at hooking up with an angel”

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Okay no Sam took the book of witchcraft.

That doesn't bode well at all.

*she says vibrating with pent up frustration about how witch!Sam is being teased roughly twice a week with no pay off since like... ever*

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Yay I knew we'd get to see Dean riding Larry at the end.

because this is Yellow Fever.

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I like Yellow Fever.

-

This is sort of embarassing having all of the other Dean stuff in there... You should have just stuck with him and Larry

Let them have a moment.

This is their song.

[dotshiiki]

A Blue Secret (Percy/Annabeth)

Summary: Annabeth is hiding something. The secret is driving Percy to distraction.

Notes: So it’s my birthday today, and I felt like doing blue-related things. I honestly didn’t know if I was going to finish writing this in time to post as I’ve been working on it a while since the bunny hopped into my head last month when I was baking cookies for my friend’s birthday. (Yes, blue M&M cookies. And yes, I was sorting M&M’s, which was the inspiration for the fic.) But then the last bit that was evading me came together and voilà! Fic to share! Be warned, though, it’s high on fluff but low on plot. 

Plink, plink, plink. The unusual noise coming from behind Annabeth’s room door makes Percy halt on the landing, his brow furrowing with curiosity. It sounds like quarters being deposited into a coin bank. Or maybe a wonky percussion instrument. ‘Annabeth?’ The sound stops abruptly and is followed by a quick rustling noise and a loud thump. Then footsteps, and Annabeth’s door opens. 

'Percy! What are you doing back so early? I thought you and Frank were organising the Pyrrhic War re-enactment at the Coliseum today?’ 'Oh, well, it had to be cancelled. Some junior legionnaire fed Hannibal peanuts. No war elephant equals no elephantry display.’ She looks at him a little blankly. 'Hannibal the elephant? He’s peanut-intolerant. Huge mess—Frank’s sorting it out now.’ 'Oh, right. I forgot.’ 'So what are you up to?’ 'Nothing, just studying.’ She looks away from him when she says it, to the thick tome of a textbook sitting open on her desk. He has the strange suspicion that she actually pulled it out right before she opened the door. But he can’t think of a reason why she would lie about it, and he has a feeling she won’t take it well if he says the first thought that pops into his head, which is, ’Didn’t sound like studying.’ He doesn’t want to be the suspicious boyfriend, after all. And then he’s distracted by Annabeth asking if he wants to join her. He says yes, of course. She picks up the book and moves so they can sit together on her bed. As he plays with her hair and listens to her talk about structural supports and Doric columns, he forgets about her mystery activity. OoOoO He is reminded a few days later, though, this time when a freak thunderstorm puts an end to his plans to go canoe-surfing in the lake with Piper (thanks a lot, Zeus, or Jupiter, or whichever form he’s meant to be for a Greek demigod living in New Rome) and he gets home to hear the same steady plink, plink, plink coming from behind Annabeth’s closed door once again. He knocks this time and there’s the same abrupt pause, the rustling—maybe a drawer opening and closing? Annabeth opens the door and this time he notices the little details he overlooked before: her eyes just a bit wider than normal, her breathing a little too fast. 'You’re back!’ She glances at the window and the weeping skies outside. 'Oh. I guess they closed the boating docks.’ He decides to be direct. 'What was that noise?’ The furtive expression that passes over her face is so quick, if Percy wasn’t on the alert, he would have missed it. 'What noise?’ says Annabeth, a little too casually. 'You know, that, er, clinking sort of sound.’ There’s a moment’s hesitation, and then she says, 'You mean the rain?’ 'No, I thought I heard …’ She cocks her head to one side. 'Sounds like the rain to me,’ she says with a shrug. She gives him an affectionate peck on the cheek as she passes him, heading for the bathroom. He catches sight of her fingers by chance. They are stained with multiple colours, like rainbow ink stains from different pens. When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later, her hands washed clean and smelling of lemon soap, Annabeth launches immediately into a complicated narration about the interior design she’s sketching for a temple Jason asked her to help with. This isn’t exactly atypical for her, except that she usually waits for him to ask first before going all Alex Dunphy on him. It’s almost as though she’s trying to steer the conversation away before he gets a chance to ask questions she doesn’t want to answer. Yeah, he thinks, she’s definitely hiding something. OoOoO He begins to notice a pattern. It’s always when he gets back at an unplanned time—earlier than expected, cancelled plans—that he finds Annabeth holed up in her room doing whatever it is that she’s not sharing. She’s doing it only when she knows he’ll be out of the house. This conclusion makes him uneasy. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, or that he thinks she’s up to something shady. If there’s one thing he’s certain of, even more than the fact that pizza makes the best dinner and blue makes food taste better, it’s that his girlfriend always has his back. Besides, this is Annabeth after all, the girl with a million projects on her plate, most of which he doesn’t even understand when she does tell him about them. It’s probably just a new hobby she’s picked up—maybe sewing; it did sound like she might be rustling through buttons in a bag. Except Annabeth is probably the least domesticated person he knows, so he can’t really picture her hunched over a needlepoint. Or it could be—there’s some brainiac game that involves chucking marbles in a wooden board with holes, right? No, the fact that Annabeth might have a new hobby doesn’t faze him. What he doesn’t get is why it has to be a secret. She’s trusted him with everything since they were kids: her problems with her family, her deepest fears, even her embarrassing crush on Gregory Peck that she swears she’ll kill him if he ever tells anyone. There’s nothing she’s ever needed to hide from him. Except … well, except for that stuff with Luke, ages ago. But that was before they got together. Back when there was a war with the Titans and they all thought he was marked for death by prophecy. Gods, he hopes it’s not some new war-related shit. Haven’t they done enough with the Titans and then Gaea, and that whole debacle with the Norse gods that he still doesn’t understand. Oh, and not to mention Apollo and his Roman emperors? He goes so far as to ask her how she’s been occupying herself when he’s out, but she only raises her eyebrows and says, 'Are you suggesting I don’t have important stuff to do that don’t involve you?’ He wisely backs off from that line of conversation. Still, he wishes he knew. The curiosity is starting to drive him a little crazy. One morning he comes out to the kitchen to find Annabeth sitting with her elbows propped on the table, looking like she’s waiting for him. He frowns, confused. Has he forgotten something? It’s too early in the day to figure it out—at least he can’t really think clearly before he’s had some coffee, which thankfully Annabeth has brewed. He makes a bee-line for the pot on the counter and takes a huge gulp before facing her. 'Um,’ he says, running his fingers through his hair. He notices she’s wearing an oversized Camp Half-Blood t-shirt (probably his, which always turns him on way more than it should) and her pyjamas shorts underneath, so obviously she’s not all ready to leave the flat or anything. That’s good—it means he hasn’t forgotten a morning date. Then he sees the jar sitting on the table in front of her. It’s one of those giant jam jars, about the size of a football, with clear glass all around, and it’s filled to the brim with M&M’s. With blue M&M’s, to be exact. It all falls neatly into place then: the slow clink of tiny chocolate pieces into a glass jar, the rustling of candy packaging and fingers rifling through a colourful packet. The secret that was driving him crazy the last two weeks is sitting as a big blue present in front of him and he feels like a real idiot not to have put it together earlier. Between being distracted by Annabeth’s mystery activity and how different spending summer summer in California has been, he’s managed to forget that today is his birthday, which probably means that he’s going to be in a world of hurt since his birthday is also conveniently their anniversary. Well, there’s a reason his nickname is Seaweed Brain and not hers. 'Well?’ says Annabeth, her impatient tone at odds with the way she’s chewing her lip. Annabeth is always brusque when she’s nervous. Although why she would be nervous, he has no clue. She’s the amazing girlfriend who made him a thoughtful gift. He’s the dork who’s failing as a boyfriend. 'I—wow. You did this … for my birthday?’ he manages to say, feeling every bit like the kelp-head she likes to call him. Annabeth shrugs. 'It’s your first one away from home, so I thought you’d like … well, I would have done blue cake or cookies, but you know me and baking. I didn’t want to burn the house down. This seemed safer.’ 'Geez, Annabeth, you must have gone through tons of packets!’ He can’t really guess how many M&M’s are in the huge jar—he never was any good at those guess-the-number-of-jellybean games—but she would have had to go through ten times the number to sift out that many. He pictures her sitting at her desk, patiently rifling through packs of multi-coloured M&M’s. He can’t imagine doing it himself without getting distracted and giving up. Percy puts her arms around her and squeezes her tight. 'You’re the best, Wise Girl,’ he murmurs against her hair. Annabeth relaxes into his embrace. 'I know. You’re not so bad yourself, Seaweed Brain.’ They don’t say I love you; but then, they’ve never had to.

(For anyone who didn’t get the Alex Dunphy reference, she’s a nerdy character on Modern Family. Let’s just assume Percy watches, yes?)

Here, have some blue M&M’s!

[btstrashxoxox]

Fake Love pt.1

Jimin AU, 1.3K

Living in a strict environment wasn’t easy. Your parents keeping track of where you are, who you’re with constantly. Though they really didn’t have anything to worry about. You weren’t exactly one of the party types. With glasses too loose and always sliding down your face. “Why don’t you go adjust them?” often being asked. But how do you explain that you spent all the money you have on buying albums from the loves of your life and just didn’t have the money to spend on your glasses? Besides, who needs perfect glasses when you can have your group of Big Bang hotties singing their sweet, sinful melodies right into your ears, right?

Your outfits weren’t the most daring ones either; mostly consisting of a button down shirt and any pair of jeans you found in your closet that morning. Your days didn’t consist of much. Wake up early, complain about the too bright sun and the too loud, chirping birds for a few minutes while dragging yourself to the bathroom, get ready for school, spend hours going through your classes, spend time with your best friend Sun, and then finally make your way back home. Even after graduating there wasn’t much that you did. It’s just now you spent hours looking for a job. No, you weren’t the party type; you couldn’t be, with your parents on your back.

So the second you caught a job with just enough salary to provide you with your own little home with everything you need, you made a bolt for the door and escaped your parent’s house. At first it was hard. Having the constant support of your family to just disappear wasn’t something you were used to. But it didn’t matter. It’s not like you didn’t visit them every other weekend.

Having your own little apartment was great! You could leave your stuff around without having anyone mess around with it. None of your sisters there to grab one of your possessions with no promises of getting it back. Not to mention the fact that Sun who continued living with her less strict parents, was now able to come over whenever and stay for however long you wanted. Gossiping about little things, giggling through the night, and swooning over GDragon or Seungri etc. Life was great! Your gay boss was probably the coolest boss in the world. Understanding, caring, always ready to listen to your concerns, and so organized you honestly didn’t understand why he needed you as a secretary. But hey, just makes your job easier! Oh yes, life was great. And then you met him.

He was Sun’s childhood friend. Park Jimin. They were the literal corny stereotypes of childhood best friends. He was bullied and in came Sun playing his saviour. Six years old and already the bestest of friends. They grew up together, until the day Jimin’s dad got transferred back to Korea and his family had to move. The separation was heartbreaking. Friends being separated by thousands of miles after being together for years. But it was okay because they promised to keep in contact.

“We’ll skype every night! Right before we go to sleep!” and that, they did. You’ve heard tons about Jimin from Sun, though you never met him. You weren’t sure why, but you always had this image of a chubby and short kid for him. Boy, were you wrong.

It was a peaceful Sunday morning. Light shone in through the windows. Blankets sprawled on the ground where you slept. You sighed happily, looking to your left. 12 pm, perfect. Sitting up, you stretch your arms out in front of you letting out a groan of pleasure and getting rid of the knots in your back from sleeping on the floor.

“Sunnnnnnn, wake uppppp!” you reached for the girl, starting to shake her awake. “Get upp, we have a lunch reservation at 2 and we need to get to your house before then.”

She rolled over groaning, “Ughhh I hate mornings.“ You laughed and lay back down next to her.

“Trust me, I feel you.”

She sat up slowly, letting the blankets fall to her lap and rubbing her eyes awake.

“Remind me why we decided to sleep on the floor again?” She continued to groan.

You shrugged from your spot on the floor. “Something about the fun in sleeping on the ground like in camp.” You replied. “It was your idea and now my back’s ruined.”

She laughed, jumping up, gathering energy from who knows where. “That’s you and me both! OKAY, let’s go! You grab your shower and start getting dressed while I fix my shit to go back to my place, and then from there we’ll go to the resto. Come on, come on, hurry!”

You couldn’t help, but chuckle. Leave it to Sun to go from half dead to an over excited child.

You got up again giving her the thumbs up and slowly making your way to your room to take your shower; grabbing your glasses on the way.

Finally dressed and ready to leave, you both walk out your door, locking it behind you.

“Don’t take too long okay, or else we’ll end up late for the reservation.” You turned to her giving her a stern look.

“Yeah, yeah don’t worry. I won’t make us late again.”

You grinned and grabbed her arm. “Okay lass go!”

You started to make your way to Sun’s house talking about little things from here to there. The sun was shining bright and the birds were singing their songs. Little kids were running around in the fields, chasing after butterflies or their puppies. Couples walked around, hand in hand, for their lunch dates. It was a beautiful day.

Arriving at her house, Sun rang the doorbell. “Mooooommm open the dooooorrrr!” She rang it a few more times.

“Hm, you sure your parents are home?”

“They said they’d be! I didn’t even take a key with me! Mooomm, Daaad?! Hello?!”

Finally you heard footsteps coming from behind the door and then a pause. You looked at Sun confusedly, which she returned. Then the door swung open.

“SUNNY!” You heard a male voice; high pitched, but low at the same time. You whipped your head around and stared at the beauty you’ve never seen before. Orange locks sat on his head, with brown eyes twinkling like literal stars. His smile, gosh his smile. His smile went from one cheek to the other, reaching his eyes. He was on the shorter side, but still about two inches taller than you. He was gorgeous and you couldn’t help, but stare at the stranger.

“Oh my god… JIMIN!” Sun rushed towards him and pulled him into an embrace, laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this, how long has it been?! Oh my god I missed you so much!”

“Too long sunny bunny, too long!”

As the two hugged, you couldn’t help, but stand there awkwardly; realizing that this is the Jimin Sun has always talked about. Nope, definitely not a short and chubby kid. Not knowing what to do, you debated either slowly walking back home, leaving the two to reunite properly, or announcing your presence. Luckily the decision was made for you.

Sun’s mother walked to the door grinning widely. “Now, now Sun, don’t forget about little (Y/N) standing there.” She took your hand in hers and smiled warmly.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Lee. How are you!” you smiled back a genuine smile. Sun’s mother had to be the sweetest woman you knew other than your own mother.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Jimin, this is (Y/N) and (Y/N) this is Jimin! You know the one I told you about!”

You looked up and made eye contact with those beautiful brown orbs and froze

“(Y/N)! Nice to meet you!” He smiled brightly, grabbing your hand for a shake.

Damn his hands were soft.

AN: Heyy!! So this is my first time writing a story! Like absolute first time and im srry if its absolute shit XD but I wanted to try writing so here I am posting this! I know this isn’t much and not much of the plot line was introduced, but this was more of an intro to the characters and ill start actually getting into the story in the next parts! Also my title sucks cuz i suck at coming up with titles :(( soo if anyone has any suggestions IM ALL EARS! As you can see im complete bts trash and jimin is my bias atm, but wen were talking about bts it changes all the time DX these boys kill me. Anywayss soo I hope you enjoy, once again im rlly sorry if its absolute crap lmaoo but like I said completely new at this so im hoping to improve as time passes! Im rlly excited to start writing and im excited for this AU which was inspired by a short dream I had hehe. Plz don’t hesitate to comment and giv me feedback! Id appreciate it a lot! THANK YOU <3