#what is he the coolest guy in America?

[thiefof-trefl]

DENY DEFEND DEPOSE????

He deserves a cool vigilanty name or smth

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Ooo can I please request a Bucky x fem!Enhanced!reader where she is Tony Stark’s daughter (he didn’t know about her until she found him an adult and now they’re super close) and she has mind reading powers and telepathy She is also super close with the other Avengers (especially Steve and Sam). She meets and falls in love with Bucky when she does a study abroad program for a year is Romania, the same time Bucky is on the run and living in Romania. Imagine Steve’s surprise when he tracks down Bucky to his apartment and finds Y/n living there with him in a serious relationship. And imagine her Dad’s surprise when SHEILD agents not only drag in Steve, Sam, Bucky, T’Challa, but also his daughter (who is now crying in his arms wanting Bucky, her bf). And because she can read minds, she knows what Zemo’s intentions are but couldn’t stop him in time?🥺 Anyways, Tony, Steve, and Bucky all want her to stay far away from the civil war but she hides on the Steve/Bucky’s jet and follows them and stops the three of them from fighting but they accidentally really hurt her in the process? The Avengers get back together?

(Endgame never happens)

Can’t Break Up Love » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Enhanced!Reader, Dad!Tony Stark x Daughter/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America, Sam Wilson/Falcon, and T’Challa/Black Panther

Summary: Summary is what the request says⤴️

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, mentions of HYDRA, accidental injuries, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵 it’s so amazingly described🥰

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! GIF credit goes to the creator.

Finding out you’re the daughter of a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist is something you would’ve never expected. You expected your dad to be just a regular guy, which he is in a way… kinda. All though, he is a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, he’s also Iron Man and an Avenger, which is the coolest thing ever. After your mom told you who he is, you contacted him and met him. Now, you and Tony have an amazing father daughter relationship.

“Are you sure you want to study abroad in Romania for a semester?” Tony asks.

“Yes, dad. You know I love to travel.” You say with a smile.

“You know I’m just looking after you, super girl.” He says.

You smiled and hugged him.

“Thank you for letting me use the jet.” You say.

“Anytime.” Tony replies. “Call me when you land.” He says, kissing your forehead.

“Will do, dad.” You smiled.

———

That was a few weeks ago. You’re still getting used to Romania. You were staring down at the map to the apartment building you’re staying in when you accidentally bumped into someone, causing you to drop your stuff.

“I am so sorry!” You apologized.

“It’s ok.” The man said.

You crouched down to pick up your things and so did the man.

“I’m James, but everyone calls me Bucky.” Bucky introduces himself.

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced.

“Are you visiting?” He asks curiously.

“Yes, but I’m also studying abroad for a semester.” You tell him.

“I’ve been here for a while so if you want, I can show you around.” He suggests.

“Yes please!” You say almost immediately.

Bucky chuckles.

“Where are you headed to?” He asks.

“My apartment.” You tell him, pointing to it on the map.

“You’re in luck. That’s where I live too.” He smiles.

“That’s great! I’ll see a friendly face.” You say with a smile.

Bucky walked you to the apartment building you two live in. As if it were fate, you and Bucky live on the same floor. There’s a few apartments in between you guys.

“I’d invite you in, but I have to study for a test tomorrow.” You say.

“No worries. Hopefully we’ll see each other tomorrow.” Bucky says with hopefulness in his voice.

“Hopefully.” You say with the same hopefulness in your voice.

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek before going into your apartment. Bucky had a smile on his face when he walked in his own apartment. He felt a newfound warmth in his heart and so did you.

The next day, you were so nervous about the test. Your mind was all over the place. That all washed away when you seen Bucky in the hallway of the apartment building.

“Good luck on your test.” Bucky smiles.

“Thank you!” You smiled back.

“Can I walk you to school?” He asks.

“Sure.” You replied.

The walk to school didn’t take long. You and Bucky talked the whole walk. It turns out that you and Bucky have a lot in common.

“Thank you for walking me to school, Bucky.” You smiled.

“Anytime, doll.” He smiles.

Bucky kissed your cheek, making you blush and smile.

“That kiss is for good luck.” He says.

“Thank you.” You smiled again.

“Now, go take that test.” He says, giving you a pat on the back.

You nodded and walked in the building with high hopes that you’d pass your test.

A few days have passed since you’ve taken your test. You were still positive that you did good on it. When you got your test back, you were over the moon with the grade you got that you went straight to Bucky’s apartment to show it to him. You repeatedly and rapidly knocked on his door till he opened it.

“Give a man a chance to open the door, doll.” Bucky jokes.

You held your test up, showing Bucky your grade. Bucky took it from your hand and looked at it, smiling when he saw your grade.

“You got an A! Good job, doll!” He says with a smile.

Out of nowhere, you kissed him, surprising the both of you. Your eyes widened when you realized what you were doing. You quickly pulled away.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” You apologized.

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky asks.

Before you could answer, Bucky kissed you. This time, you didn’t pull away. Your hands grasped onto the fabric of his sweatshirt. Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you inside of his apartment and closed the door so no one walked by and seen you two kissing. That’s when you and Bucky started to fall in love with each other.

As you and Bucky got to know each other more, you two went on dates. Bucky asked you to be his girlfriend and he also asked you to be his girlfriend, which you happily said yes to both. Since Bucky is on the run, he wanted to have at home dates. You didn’t question it. You thought it was cute. Although, you don’t the reason why he’s on the run, you figured he’d tell you the reason when he’s ready to.

“Tell me something else I don’t know about you.” You say, maneuvering yourself so you were sitting sideways and criss crossed on the couch.

“You pretty much know everything about me, doll face.” Bucky says, laying his metal arm across the back of the couch.

Bucky found the confidence to tell you and show you that he has a metal arm. At first, he thought you’d be scared of him cause of it, but you’re not. You accept Bucky the way he is.

“I know, but I want to know more about you.” You pouted.

Bucky can’t resist it when you pout. He leaned towards you and kissed you before leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Let’s see…” Bucky thought to himself for a moment. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’m actually almost 100 years old.” He says.

“There’s no way you’re almost 100 years old.” You said.

“I am.” He confirms.

“How?” You asked. “You look like you’re in your late 30s or early 40s.” You say.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I was actually born in 1917.” He tells you.

“So my boyfriend is an old man?” You giggled.

Bucky playfully narrowed his eyes at you.

“I’ll let the old joke slide this time. Now it’s your turn to tell me something I don’t know about you.” Bucky says.

You hummed to yourself and bit your bottom lip as you thought of something. You finally thought of something. You never told Bucky that you have mind reading and telepathy powers. You were scared of what he’ll think when he finds out. Now is a better time than never to tell him.

“I have powers.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers.

“What kind of powers?” He asks curiously.

“Mind reading and telepathy.” You tell him.

“How did you get them?” He asks.

“HYDRA.” You answered.

Bucky already knew your experience with HYDRA couldn’t have been any better than his without asking. Any experience with HYDRA is horrible.

“I’m sorry you had to endure the pain of HYDRA.” Bucky says softly and sympathetically.

“Thanks.” You say, giving him a soft smile.

Bucky kissed you to lighten the mood. You smiled against his lips and cupped his stubbly cheeks, rubbing your thumbs against the stubble of his beard.

“I love you, baby.” You whispered.

“I love you too, babydoll.” He whispers back.

The next day, you and Bucky went to the market down the street from where you two live. You two walked there hand in hand. You sensed something off about Bucky when you two left the apartment. You didn’t need to read his mind to know something was wrong. He was on high alert the whole time. You didn’t want to pester him about it though.

“Baby, look! They have those cookies I was telling you about you about the other day!” You exclaimed excitedly, showing him the package of cookies.

“That’s nice, doll. We should get them.” Bucky says.

“Yes!” You say, pumping your fist in the air out of excitement.

Bucky got a few plums from the fruit stand. As you two were paying for yours and his groceries, Bucky knew something didn’t feel right. It was like a gut feeling. He looked across the street, making eye contact with the vendor. The man looked at Bucky and then looked at the newspaper. It didn’t take him long to realize who Bucky is. Even in a disguise, he still recognized him. He ran out of his stand. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you watched him run.

“That was weird.” You say.

“I know right.” Bucky says.

You and Bucky walked hand in hand as you two crossed the street, walking to the stand the man ran away from. Bucky picked up the newspaper, seeing his picture on it.

This is not true. How could he have done something horrible in Vienna if he’s been with you all day? Unless if someone is trying to frame him for something he didn’t even do. That has to be it.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he looked around.

“We have to go.” Bucky says, wrapping his arm around you protectively.

“Where?” You asked.

“Home.” He says.

Little did the both of you know that Steve was in yours and Bucky’s apartment while you guys were out. Steve looked around the apartment, finding your things there. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out why your things would be in Bucky’s apartment. As soon as you and Bucky walked in the apartment, your eyes went wide when you seen Steve dressed in his Captain America suit. Steve turned around, seeing you and Bucky standing a few feet away from him. He also noticed you two holding hands.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

“Hi, Steve.” You say.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“I live with Bucky.” You tell him.

That was enough to tell Steve that you and Bucky are in a serious relationship.

“Do you know who I am?” Steve asks, adverting his attention to Bucky.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in the museum.” Bucky says.

You stood next to Bucky, listening to the two men talk. You had no clue what was going on. You were clueless about why Steve was there.

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.” Bucky says.

That when it hit you. The reason why Steve is there is to protect Bucky and also you.

“Whatever you think he did, he didn’t do it.” You chimed in, defending Bucky.

“I’m on your side.” Steve assures.

“They’re coming your way.” Sam informs Steve in his ear piece.

“Why did you pull me out of the river?” Steve asks Bucky.

Bucky’s mind was all over the place. He knew the reason why he pulled Steve out of the river, but he didn’t know in that moment.

“I don’t know.” Bucky answers.

“Yes you do.” Steve says.

That’s when something was thrown through the window. You three looked down, eyes widening when you guys realized it was a bomb.

“What the f-” Bucky grabbed you and held you close to him, picking up the mattress to use it as a shield when the bomb exploded.

Then the door was busted open and cops entered the apartment. Bucky pushed you to Steve. Not in a rude way. In a way of protecting you. Your eyes were wide as you watched your boyfriend tried to fight off the cops.

“Buck, stop!” Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re gonna kill someone!” He says.

Bucky knocked Steve to the floor and used his metal fist to punch a hole in the floor next to Steve, pulling a backpack out from underneath the floorboards.

“I’m not gonna kill anyone.” Bucky says.

Bucky shoved the backpack in your hands and looked deep in your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asks.

“With my life.” You answered.

“Take this backpack and jump onto the roof across the balcony and I’ll come find you, ok?” He says.

“Ok.” You said.

Bucky gave you a quick peck on the lips before going back to fighting off the cops with Steve’s help. You put the backpack on your back and looked at the roof across from yours and Bucky’s apartment. You took a couple deep breathes before running and jumping to the roof. Surprisingly, you didn’t hurt yourself. You were surprised that you could jump that far.

“That was so cool!” You say to yourself.

Sam seen you on the roof as he flew over it.

“Who’s the person who just jumped on the roof from the apartment?” Sam asks.

“Y/N. Keep an eye on her.” Steve informs him.

“Got it, Cap!” He replies.

Sam flew down toward you. You looked up and seen Sam.

“Oh shit.” You mumbled to yourself.

Sam’s here too? What the hell is going on?

Something in your mind was telling you to run and you did. Bucky jumped to the roof you’re on a moment later.

“Doll!” Bucky shouts.

You stopped running when you heard Bucky’s voice. You turned around and ran to him. You gave him the backpack. He was about to put it on his back when someone in an all black suit that looked like a cat jumped onto the roof, coming out of nowhere.

You were so confused at this point. You decided to read the person’s mind. Your eyes glowed blue as you read his mind, your eyes widening what you read from his mind. The person who attacked Bucky wants him dead or locked up for something he was framed for.

Bucky managed to get away from the guy and ran, grabbing your hand. You and Bucky got to the edge of the roof. Before you could ask how you two were going to get down, Bucky wrapped his right arm around you with a tight grip and used his metal arm to slide down the wall. The guy in the all black cat suit followed you guys. Steve also caught up with you guys, running after you guys. Sam followed you guys from above.

Cars swerved to avoid hitting you guys. That’s when Bucky grabbed a motorcycle, throwing the person off of it and you two got on it. Not too long after that, you, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and the guy in the cat looking costume got stopped by Rhodey and the cops. You guys held your hands up in surrender.

“Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal. So are you Y/N. Your dad isn’t going to be proud of you when he finds out.” Rhodey says.

Bucky got shoved to the ground and handcuffed.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

Steve wrapped his arms around your waist before and pulled you against him you could get to your boyfriend. Bucky looked at you with sadness in his eyes. He didn’t mean for you to get involved in any of this. He was just trying to protect you and tried his best to avoid all of this from happening.

You guys got put into a transport vehicle and the right was quiet. Your face was covered in tears and you fiddled with your fingers. You also found out the guy who was in the Black Panther costume is T’Challa.

“Do you like cats?” Sam’s asks T’Challa.

“Sam…” Steve warns.

“He showed up dressed as a cat and you don’t want to know more?” He says.

“I do.” You say with a small giggle.

“Y/N wants to know too.” He says.

Steve turned around, giving you and Sam a warning look. You two remained quiet after that.

“Are you ok?” Sam asks you.

“I would say yes, but I just witnessed my boyfriend getting arrested for something he didn’t even do so I’m pretty far from ok.” You answered.

“Hang in there, little Stark.” He says, patting your knee.

The vehicle pulled up to a big building. You weren’t sure what it was. You watched as Bucky was being hauled around in a pod type of thing. You took a couple steps in his direction, but Sam stopped you by grabbing your arm and gently pulled you towards him.

“I know you want to go to him, but you can’t right now.” Sam says softly.

Your eyes teared up again. You seen your dad a few feet away. You ran straight to him and hugged him, breaking down in tears. Tony was surprised to see you and wondered why you were in the transport vehicle with Steve, Sam, and T’Challa. He didn’t question it though. He’s just happy to see you.

“It’s ok, super girl.” Tony whispers, comforting you.

Tony took you to a room that looks like a conference room. Steve and Sam followed.

“He didn’t do it.” You say after a few minutes.

“You can’t be too sure about that, kid.” Sharon says.

“No one fucking asked for your damn opinion!” You practically hissed at her.

Sharon scoffed before walking of the room.

“Bucky wasn’t in Vienna or wherever this happened. He was with me the whole time.” You tell everyone truthfully.

Steve and Sam believed you, but not so much your dad.

“How can you be so sure?” Tony asks.

“Cause I would’ve known if he did something he shouldn’t have done.” You say.

The more Tony stared at you, he could tell that there’s something you’re not telling him.

“What are you not telling me, young lady?” Tony asks in his dad voice.

You slid down in your chair and fiddled with your fingers.

“Tell him, Y/N.” Steve says softly.

“Tell me what?” Tony asks, looking from you to Steve and back to you.

You really didn’t want to tell your dad that your boyfriend is the former Winter Soldier. You already knew that he wouldn’t stop asking if you don’t tell him so you might as well tell him before he finds out from someone else.

“Bucky is my boyfriend.” You tell him after a few seconds.

It was quiet after that. You looked up at your dad to see a look on his face that appears when he’s pissed off about something. You already knew this wasn’t going to be good.

“No, absolutely not.” Tony says.

“I love him, dad! He loves me too!” You exclaimed.

“You are not dating someone who’s a criminal.” He says.

“I said no! You are not dating him!” He says, raising his voice.

Your bottom lip quivered and you stood up from your chair, running out of the room.

“Are you going to go after her?” Sam asks.

“No.” Tony rubs his hands over his face. “She’s going to calm down and come to her senses and realize I’m right.” Tony says.

“She’s in love with him. I’ve seen it.” Steve says.

Tony looks at Steve, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Who’s side are you on, Rogers?” Tony asks.

“I’m on your daughter’s side.” Steve says.

All Tony did was scoff.

When you ran of the room, you decided to wander around the building to try to find Bucky. You found him in an almost empty room. There was nothing but the metal pod Bucky was in and a table and chair in front of it. There was a man in there with Bucky, who’s name is Helmut Zemo.

Before you could do anything the power went out and a red lit up the room. Zemo started reading words from a book in Russian. You didn’t understand what he was saying, but you knew it was good cause Bucky was starting to get mad.

“Stop it!” Bucky growls.

Zemo kept reading the words. Bucky broke free from the restrains and pounded his metal fist against the door of the metal pod like a caged animal trying to get out of its cage. When he finally broke free from the metal pod, he slowly stood up with a dark look in his eyes. The whole room was silent. It was like a calm before a storm.

You decided to take the opportunity to read Zemo’s mind to see what his intentions are. Your eyes glowed blue as you read his mind. The things he was thinking about at the moment was a mission report from December 16, 1991 and he wanted to see an empire fall. You were curious to know what those two things meant.

All hell broke loose before you could do anything. Your eyes went wide. You quickly hid alongside the wall. You closed your eyes and tried to process what you just saw.

“Y/N, where’s Bucky?” Steve asks.

You pointed to the room next to you. Steve went in there and so did you and Sam. Zemo was laying on the floor. Steve picked him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Steve growls.

“To see an empire fall.” Zemo says.

Out of anger, you punched Zemo in the face, giving a bloody nose.

“What the hell did you do to my boyfriend?!” You asked.

“You’ll find out soon, Miss. Stark.” Zemo says, smirking facetiously.

What’s that supposed to mean and how does this man know your name?

That’s when Bucky came out of nowhere and started throwing punches at Steve and Sam. You backed up against the wall so you didn’t get caught up in the mix. Even as the Winter Soldier, Bucky would never hurt you. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he did hurt you.

“Get Y/N out of here!” Steve says to Sam.

Sam nodded and grabbed your arm. You two started running and exited the building. Sam saw Zemo’s jacket on the ground. He picked it up and then looked around. He dropped it back on the ground.

“Stay here.” Sam says.

You nodded. You assumed Sam went back inside to help Steve. You felt like you should do something to help so you came up with a plan. You figured that the quinjet was somewhere around there. You figured if you hid somewhere on the quinjet that you could stop something bad from happening. So you found it and got on it, hiding somewhere inside of it so no one could see you. You also found a mission suit that belongs to Natasha and put it on so you blended in more.

During the flight, you didn’t know where Bucky and Steve were going until you heard one of them say HYDRA. You didn’t know which base they were going to though. The conversation Bucky and Steve were having made you tear up. The things HYDRA did to Bucky and made him do broke your heart.

What it seemed like hours, you were still hiding in the quinjet. You wanted to go inside of the base before it was too late, but not too early. You managed to sneak inside of the base without Bucky and Steve seeing you. You hid along the walls and stayed quiet. You seen your dad there too.

What’s your dad doing here?

You watched as anger bubble in your dad as he watched a video on a small screen.

“Did you know?” Tony asks Steve.

“I didn’t it was him.” Steve says.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!” He says. “Did you know?” He asks again.

Steve nodded his head yes. Tony blasted Steve with an energy blast, which he blocked with his shield. Bucky rose his gun to defend Steve, but Tony blasted it out of his hands. Your eyes went wide. You knew this was just going to get worst. You needed to stop it and now’s that time.

“Dad, stop!” You shouted, coming out of your hiding spot.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Tony asks.

“Stopping you from killing my boyfriend.” You say.

“Kid, if you knew why I’m doing this, you’d understand.” He says.

Tony rose his hand up, blasting an energy blast at Bucky. Steve threw his shield to Bucky and he caught it, holding it in front of himself. The energy blast hit the shield and then came flying towards you. It hit you before you could jump out of the way. Everyone’s hearts dropped to the pits of their stomachs and their eyes grew wide. Bucky was the first one to be by your side.

“Doll, wake up.” Bucky whispers, gently tapping your cheek.

Tony shoved Bucky aside to get to you. Steve got down by your side too. Tony placed his hand on your chest where heart is.

“Jarvis, check for a heartbeat.” Tony says.

“Heartbeat detected, but she’s in critical condition and needs medical attention.” Jarvis informs him.

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Steve says.

Bucky picked you up bridal style and carried you to the quinjet with Steve and Tony following behind him. As Steve flew the quinjet, Tony watched Bucky closely with you. Bucky whispered nothing but sweet words to you. Seeing how sweet and loving Bucky is with you, made Tony want to change his mind about how he thinks about him.

You woke up a few hours later in a hospital room. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the light. You heard a monitor beeping and the voices of your dad and your boyfriend.

“Guys, she’s awake.” Steve says.

You turned your head to the right to see Bucky, Steve, and your dad.

“Hi, doll.” Bucky smiles. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” You winced. “What happened?” You asked.

“You got hit with an energy blast that was meant for Bucky.” Steve says.

“The doctors want you to stay here for a few days for observation.” Tony says.

After a few days in the hospital, you were able to go home. Home meaning the Avengers compound. Your dad and Bucky talked it out and he’s living in the compound. Bucky is sharing your bedroom with you. Tony, Steve, Sam, and the rest of the Avengers talked everything out and got the team back together. They even asked Bucky to be part of the team, which he happily accepted.

“How do you feel?” Bucky asks softly.

“I don’t feel as sore as I did a few days ago. Your kisses made me feel better.” You says.

“I’ll happily give you more kisses, doll” He says.

“Then what are you waiting for, Sarge?” You murmured softly and playfully.

Bucky leaned down, kissing you sweetly and passionately. The kiss was short lived when Jarvis’s voice sounded through the intercom of the lounge room.

“Mr. Stark said to get back to work, Sergeant Barnes.” Jarvis says

Bucky groaned, making you giggle.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky says softly and kissed you once more.

“I love you too, baby.” You murmured softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[comicaurora]

Just finished rewatching first avenger and was kinda thinking about some of the detail diatribes. In the most recent, you said something about marvel failing to give Cap a real purpose in recent media, and now I can't help but think what could be a plausible motive. At some point I started thinking about superman and how marvel and DC have a tendency to parallel, and I was wondering if you think maybe Cap is Marvel's superman equivalent, in that he sets the bar? As a symbol of hope in a sense?

I'd say that's accurate. Captain America is a paragon with a capital P, and the best versions of him play that to the hilt. He won't just always do the right thing, he'll always find a way to do the most right thing. What he brings to the table isn't military experience or tactics, although on a basic power level that is most of what he can contribute to a fight - he brings an unshakeable moral compass and a clarity that cuts through the noise.

I think his portrayal in Earth's Mightiest Heroes does a very good job of getting that across. It's explicit that Cap is the team leader despite being the most underpowered fighter because he's just that good.

And it's not just lip service. Cap works as a leader because the Avengers trust him to lead them right - something that everyone else is too volatile or self-motivated to handle. For instance, Cap is one of the only people the Hulk unconditionally trusts, because Cap cuts through 100% of the bullshit around him and reads him like a book.

There are episodes where Cap gets depowered, weakened, captured, etc - none of it slows him down or makes him unable to contribute to the story. It's very carefully written to prove that the serum didn't make him Captain America, and its super-strength are not what he brings to the table, even if it does help him a lot.

Cap is characterized as a living legend, with all that entails - not a mythological hero with all their atrocities and downfalls, but an inspiration that sets a nearly impossible standard. He's a legendary hero, a paragon of goodness and nobility. He doesn't compromise his morals, he doesn't leave people behind, he will always choose the most heroic course of action no matter what it costs him. He's the definition of "hero" and all the heroes he inspired are constantly aware of how much he really does embody that legend.

The MCU doesn't know what to do with him because they're torn between "Iron Man has to be the most coolest specialest guy" and "the Avengers only exist onscreen together for five movies and they spend four of them breaking up" and there is absolutely no way to do Cap justice in that environment. I think Winter Soldier comes the closest, but of course we still only see Cap leading the B-team. If the MCU can't understand why it needs heroes, there's no way it'll understand why they need the hero.

[bamboozledbird]

𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝�� 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 pt.2 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin Pairing(s): Stiles x you, Theo x you (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5.3k Tags: a fix-it for y'all bc i'm a pushover Warnings: Underage drinking (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), creepy guys in bars, emetophobia, new jersey slander (please forgive me jerseyans)

Request: for all you people i made cry with part 1. this is my love letter to you. A/N: you don't necessarily need to read part 1 to understand, but this is a follow-up to if i could lose you i would.

The night starts well enough. Theo’s hand is a warm, steadying weight against your lower back, and his cologne cuts through the vague funky smell clouding the bar. Lydia chose it; somehow, no matter the city, she always knows about the coolest, underground spots that seem to only circulate within an elite circle of twentysomethings. It really isn’t all that shocking when you think about it as you nurse your bitter cocktail; every single person who catches a glimpse of Lydia immediately craves her attention. Unfortunately for them, Lydia always takes you as her date, though lately she’s been ending your nights out at a stranger's apartment more often than not. She’s never said it, but you know it’s because, ever since the disastrous end to her start-of-summer bash, Theo's made himself a permanent third-wheel on girls’ night. He’s never said it, but you know he started tagging along because you’ve been distant since Stiles poured into your bedroom and pressed on all the bruises his fingertips left behind when he left you. You really thought you’d washed them all away with 3,000 miles, 3 months, and 3 weeks of the scrape of Theo’s teeth. 

You sip on your fourth drink of the evening, sitting on a barstool because your legs are too wobbly to stand on, and Theo watches you watch Lydia spin a girl with a radiant smile and glitter tinsel in her hair. 

“You wanna dance?” he hums in your ear. You can barely hear him over the bass and the buzz of too much tequila. 

You nibble on your straw and hiccup around it, “Don’t think I can.”

Theo makes a move to grab the drink in your hand, and you bend backwards to keep it out of his reach. “Come on,” he frowns, “you can’t even stand.”

“So?” you purse your lips petulantly and punctuate your point with a loud suck, draining the last few drops of your lime margarita through a few chunks of leftover ice.

Theo looks tired as he studies your face. “What the hell is going on with you? I see you every day, and I still don’t have a fucking clue.” 

You’re too drunk to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Hiccupping again, your nose scrunches, “I’m just…I wanna go home.” Theo pats his jacket pockets for his keys, and you shake your head a few too many times. “No, not there.” Your stomach turns when you finally realize what you actually mean. You want to hitch a ride on the melting ice in your glass and dissolve into knotted hair on Sunday mornings, freckled skin washed with the shifting sun, and pouted pink lips, cursing the snooze button and your cold toes. You don’t say that. You’re drunk, not cruel. “I wanna go back to Stanford. I hate it here.”

Theo’s eyes are shadowed in the dim light of the club, but they’re calculating. “You really think that’s far enough?” 

Blinking slowly, your mind spins with the drinks in your stomach as you try and fail to think of something clever. “Feels far,” you mumble, and Theo doesn’t look reassured. It’s hard for you to differentiate pain from anger through watery eyes and the brume of tequila, but whatever emotion is darkening Theo’s expression, you think it’s justified. He’s smart enough to know what you mean. 

 His face goes blank as he searches for his keys again, “I think that’s enough fun for tonight.”

You shake your head and wriggle down further into the cradle of your hips, “I wanna stay.”

Theo exhales through his nose and runs a hand over his face, “I thought you wanted to go home.”

Your tongue is thick as you struggle for words, sniffling as they tease you from the fraying edges of consciousness. “Not there.” You know you sound like a baby, recycling the handful of words you can remember, and you know that tears will only make it worse, but they still bubble along your lash line.

“Stay at Lydia’s then,” Theo spits out through gritted teeth, but he shoves a napkin towards you to mop up your running mascara, so you forgive him. It’s your fault, after all. At least, you think so as you watch him leave. 

“Boyfriend troubles?” Your head lulls to the side as you blink dumbly, all big-eyed and glassy, at the stranger leaning against the bar beside you. He’s tall, well-built too, but you’re mostly focused on his pungent cologne. It’s hard not to; you’re suffocating in it. 

The man laughs and grabs your chin, shaking your head a little, “You’re adorable. How could anyone stay mad at you?” 

You recoil, wrenching your face from his sweaty grasp, and run your tongue over your teeth. “He’s not…” your protest gets lost in your throat when he steps into your space and slides his hand along your spine, just shy of your ass. Your dress is backless, completely exposed to his wandering gaze, and your skin crawls with the sensation of his fingertips grazing your back.

His breath is hot and wet on the shell of your ear, “You want to forget about it for a while, angel?” 

“No,” your head jerks from side to side, eyes screwed shut, “I don’t—I think I’m gonna puke.”

A wave of relief rolls over you when a red-taloned hand slithers between your bodies. Lydia shoves the stranger’s chest sharply, sending him stumbling into the stool behind him, and his hand falls from your hip. 

“Does it look like she wants to contract something from a limp-dicked lowlife in tacky shoes?” The top of Lydia’s head barely reaches his shoulder, but her eyes are sharp and her sneer is venomous. The creep has the good sense to look a little afraid. “You have exactly two seconds to get the hell out of here before I personally ensure you’re on every public sex offender registry from here to Quebec.”

She grabs your hand before he has the chance to disagree and pulls you into the bathroom. In comparison to the loud, muggy dancefloor, it’s a wonderful reprieve: an oasis of cold air and muffled bass. 

Lydia fusses over you for a minute; you wave off her concerns and push yourself onto the sink even though your arms feel distinctly gelatinous. You can tell she doesn’t believe you, but men preying on drunk women is a tragically large and present underbelly of girl world, so after a moment she turns her intense focus to the lighted mirror. She looks perfect—she always looks perfect—but she won’t believe anyone except her own reflection.

The aching strain in your arches slowly dissipates to a faint tingle the longer your feet dangle from the counter, your heels discarded below. They’re black strappy things from the back of Lydia’s closet, and so is the scrap of black silk that Prada has the audacity to call a dress. You are grateful, however, for the short hem and open back now that your skin finally has the chance to breathe. 

You watch Lydia apply her lipstick with a precision brain surgeons could only dream of, smiling lazily. She’s graceful with the slender brush, like Botticelli stroking a swathe of red silk over a canvas of smooth skin. You envy her, with your eyeshadow already melting below your waterline, but mostly you love her. So proud to have such a goddess for a best friend. 

Her head tilts as she smiles at you, and she must be at least a little godly because she doesn’t smear her lipstick when her mouth curves. “What?” she hums around her puckered lips. 

“Nothing,” your words slur together, “you’re just perfect.”

She tucks her lipstick into her clutch and shakes her head, “And you’re so drunk. Lethal, babe.”

“I love it,” you sigh as she starts fixing your hair, clicking her tongue when you start to fidget. You slump into her careful touch and watch her fingers smooth through a few knots near your ends. “Being drunk is my favorite.”

She twirls her finger, indicating you should turn around, and begins twisting your flattened curls into an elegant bun. “I’ve noticed,” she mutters through the bobby pin clutched between her teeth, “you’ve been drinking more than you’ve sober lately.”

“It’s summer!” You blow a curl off of your nose and close your teary eyes so that your mascara doesn’t flake onto your cheeks, “You’re supposed to be drunk.”

Lydia hums and pulls a few strands of hair loose to artfully frame your face. “I didn’t realize alcoholism was seasonal.”

“You,” you bop her nose and giggle when it scrunches under your finger, “are being a major buzzkill. Don’t kill my buzz; that’s murder in the first.”

“Someone has to be.” Lydia leans her hip against the sink, and her brows curve, “Where’s Theo? I thought he was your DD tonight?”

You let the intoxication sweep over your senses because it’s easy and knock your ankles together like a child on the swings. “He left,” you chirp.

“He what?”

Your bottom lip juts out a little, “I think I hurt his feelings.”

Lydia is incensed. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and mutters a few choice words under her breath, “I’m going to hurt a lot more than that when I find him.” You curl in on yourself a little, and she sighs, unwinding her fingers from tight fists as her eyes soften. “He really left you here?” she asks quietly.

You shrug, refusing to feel sorry for yourself, and make grabby hands at her sleeves, “It’s okay. You’re here, and you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

She laces your fingers together and squeezes your hand, “It is not okay. That creep had you halfway to his car.”

You shudder at memory, and feel the ghost of the stranger’s clammy hand against your lower back, “But you rescued me. So it’s okay.” 

You frown at Lydia’s frown and push her cheeks together, squishing her mouth into a crinkled half-smile. She rolls her eyes a little and takes your wrists in her hands gently, “He shouldn’t have left you. It was a shitty thing to do, babe.”

“I made him sad, I think.” You hiccup a little, “I think I always do.”

“He can’t leave you blackout drunk in a skeezy bar just because you’re in love with someone else,” she huffs.

You tease the tip of your tongue through your front teeth, swinging your legs back and forth below the sink, “It wasn’t skeezy when you picked it.”

Lydia huffs again and folds her arms over her chest, “That was before I saw tall, dark, and creepy try to take you home.”

Your playful grin crumbles as your drunk-numb mind finally catches up with the burning behind your ribs. “I’m in love with someone else,” you say, voice sticky and thick in your throat. 

She lets out a sigh so soft you wonder if you just imagined it and takes both of your hands, “I know.”

Whimpering quietly, you turn your nose into your shoulder, slightly embarrassed by the sound. “I’m sad about it.”

“I know,” Lydia combs a few strands of your hair off of your tear-tacky face and smiles a little, “let’s get you home, okay?”

Another round of nausea hits you as you finally realize that you’re truly, really, horrifically drunk, and you still can’t forget him. 

“I don’t think I know where that is anymore.” 

Lydia was able to corral you into an Uber after you puked a few times. She held your hair back and helped you brush your teeth. You cried a little when she wiped the sweat off of your face with a makeup wipe, watching her take care of you with big wet eyes, as she tucked you into bed like the baby tequila and heartbreak had turned you into. She made you promise to call her in the morning, and then she left you to sleep off the ache in your throat and the six margaritas in your bloodstream—or was it seven, you can’t remember. 

You can’t remember much, it seems. You scroll through your feed for a while and squint at the blurry splotches of color, trying to recall if you were good enough friends with the girl from software systems to leave a comment on her post about how hot she looks in red. Your fingers drift, swiping away from Instagram to the only thing you remember. The thing you’ll always remember.

The phone rings exactly two times.

“Hi.” It’s the only thing you can think of besides, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you. Please make it stop.’

“Hey.” You listen to Stiles breathe on the other side of the line and snuggle further into your pillow. “You there?” 

His voice is soft in your ear, and your eyes go lidded, “Uh huh.”

He clears his throat, “What are you doing up this late?”

You twist around your sheets, and the tip of your tongue pokes out at your phone. Apparently, you’ve also forgotten that he can’t see you. “What are you doing up this late?”

“It’s uh,” Stiles pauses and there’s a rustling sound on his side of the line, “almost 8 here.”

You blink and frown at the time on your screen, “Nuh uh.” 

There’s a pause; you hate it. You want him to keep talking until you fall asleep. He finally sighs, “Are you drunk?”

Your tongue pokes out again, “I’m not the one who can’t tell time.”

“Baby,” your heart skips and your breath hitches, and he must be tired because he doesn’t seem to notice the slip, “we’re in different time zones.”

Your heart stumbles over the skip this time, and it feels a lot like flatlining. “You went back already?”

“I, uh,” he shifts, must be in his desk chair because you can hear something rolling, “my lease started. Figured if I’m paying to live in Philly, I should actually, y’know, live in Philly.” 

“Oh.” One little syllable, and it’s heavy with so many things you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. 

“Yeah.” 

“So, uh,” you hear him scratch at something, most likely the back of his neck because he sounds anxious, “why’d you call?” He’s quick to correct himself, words overlapping like ripples in a creek, “Not that I’m not glad you called; I’m stoked you called—or maybe something a little less embarrassing—but I, uh,” there’s that scratching sound again and a quiet thudding of drumming fingers, “I really didn’t think you would.”

“Dunno,” there’s a smile in your voice, but you aren’t sure if he can hear it through the wobble, “just started dialin’, n’ I ended up here.”

He stands, and the phone shifts against his cheek as he starts to pace, “Where are you?” He sounds worried. You frown—you don’t want him to worry. You want him to hold you.

“Home,” you pause, nose wrinkling because that’s not quite right, and then add, “my house.”

“Did you drink anything?”

“Clearly.”

You can hear the eye roll from the other side of the country when he huffs into the phone, “I meant water. Did you drink any water?”

“Uh,” you nibble on your lip, “yes?”

He huffs again, but this time you can tell he’s smiling, “Get up and get some water—Advil too. Put it on top of whatever book you’re reading so it doesn’t get lost in your pile of shitty chapsticks and hair thingies.” 

Your eyes cross, affronted, “They are not shitty.”

“They’re an endless cycle of chapped hell.”

“But they taste good,” you grumble, cuddling your pillow to your chest.

He’s smirking; you know it. “Oh, I know.” 

You both just breathe through the line for a long moment, remembering the same slick slide of lips and tongues. 

“I miss you,” you whisper. 

Stiles inhales sharply, “I miss you too.”

“No,” you shake your head, smearing mascara on your pillowcase, “I miss you.” Your mouth is dry, and you can’t find the right words to explain it, how he’s apart from you even when he’s standing right there. There just aren’t enough words in the English language to explain the ache in the marrow of your ribs, how he still lingers inside your skin like some kind of fucked-up, agonizing osmosis, how you love him so tortuously, so effortlessly. Indefinitely. 

You can’t explain, but when he whispers, “Yeah, me too,” you know he knows. 

You sniffle and hiccup a few times, and a sigh crackles through your speaker. “Drink some water for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. You roll onto your stomach and sit up a little on your elbows, “Will you stay?”

“Yeah, baby,” his chair squeaks as he sits back down, “‘till you fall asleep.”

“Promise?” Your voice is thick, like you’ve been crying for hours, and Stiles’s voice is tight when he finally replies. 

“Promise.”

You wake up with dry eyes and a rank taste in your mouth. There’s a glass of water and a handful of Advil on your nightstand, and you just know. You’ve known for a while actually, maybe forever, but you can’t pretend you don’t anymore. 

Theo seems to know why you invited him over so early on a Sunday morning. He doesn’t even look sad when you officially end it, and you wonder if it’s because he knew it was over a long time ago. You wish, selfishly, that he would’ve let you in on the secret so that you could’ve avoided all this. You hug him before he leaves, and it’s stiff and awkward, and you feel a little shitty about the whole thing—but it doesn’t feel wrong. 

You feel like yourself for the first time in a long time, and that feels good.

Summer is almost over, and you don’t have the time to obsess over all your wanting. All the air leaves your body sometimes, no room for anything but honey, veins, and new stubble, but you have so much to do. There’s no time for drowning in it when you’ve only got a few weeks before the semester starts. 

You don’t even have the time to acknowledge the nerves wriggling up your esophagus until you’re standing in front of a black door. Your screen is lit with the address Scott texted you, along with roughly 100 exclamation points and a dozen or so brain explosion, party popper, and happy face emojis. They steady you as you knock on the splintering door. The unit is cute and quaint, and you distract yourself by getting a better look at the sage green columns. 

Stiles opens the door, looking disarmingly soft in his worn sweatpants and stretched-out t-shirt—like cuddling on the weekend, like playing video games until sunrise, like home. He blinks at you slowly, pretty pink mouth slightly ajar.

You shift on the soles of your sneakers, jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets. “Hey.”

He blinks some more and seems to be only capable of repeating what he hears, “Hey.”

“So,” you dig the toe of your shoe into the porch, staring at a warped patch, curved from seasons of melting snow, and shrug, “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by.”

He recovers from his stupor and leans against the doorframe, hands tucked under his armpits. “You were in the neighborhood,” his head tilts with his arched brow, “in Philadelphia.”

“Well,” you try not not to smile, “it was on my way.”

Nodding, Stiles rubs his chin and purses his lips. You want to kiss the smirk off of his stupid face. “Right, the classic eastbound Stanford route.”

“Not quite.” You adjust the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder, easing some of the ache pinching at the base of your skull, “New transfer orientation is on Monday. Turns out Princeton’s comp sci department is decent.”

His face becomes guarded, but there’s a little something like hope behind the uncertainty, “4th in the country.”

Something warm inside your stomach flutters. He knows. Of course, he knows. He probably researched it all the way back in high school. You brush your hair out of your eyes and hum, “Mhm.”

Stiles slides his socked foot back and forth, slipping on the polished floor of his cozy entryway. He barely catches himself on the doorknob. You laugh until he says, “Stanford’s 2nd.”

Your shoulder lifts, “That's correct.”

His chin dips as he searches your face for something. You smile at him, and he swallows; it looks painful. “You turned down MIT because it was too far from home.”

“That's also correct,” you say quietly with a jerky nod. 

His eyes go wide as he shakes his head, almost violently. He almost slips again with the dramatic effort, “MIT’s 1st in comp-sci.” 

You steady him with a palm against his chest, swiping your thumb over his ribs. His heart thrashes under your touch, and your face lifts with a timid, tender smile. “Sure, but Princeton’s ranked #1 nationally. Overall champs, baby. Suck it.”

Stiles finally smiles, but it’s hesitant. “You don’t say.”

You let a breathy exhale and drop your hands to your sides, curling and uncurling your fingers into tight fists. He’s still looking at you, a cute little wrinkle in-between his brows, waiting for something more. Fair enough. He kind of laid it all out on the line the last time you spoke in-person—he kind of deserves to stew a little after everything he put you through, but you’ve forgiven him, decided you want to be happy more than you want to punish him.

You roll your shoulders back and tilt your chin to meet his gaze. “I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Stiles’s face goes sour, and he crosses his arms firmly over his chest, mouth twitching between a pout and a frown. “You stopped in Philly just to tell me tha—”

You rock onto your tiptoes to press a finger to his lips, biting back a smile when they pucker like a fish, and say, “Will you kindly shut it for a minute? I need to get through this. I practiced a lot on the plane.” His eyes narrow, sullen and irritated, but he keeps his lips pressed together, waiting impatiently for you to finish.

You slip your finger from his mouth to cup his jaw, thumbing just below his cheekbone, and his body goes lax, irritation slowly seeping from his lanky limbs to the floor. Grinning, you poke the tip of your tongue at him, and he swallows hard as he tracks the movement.

“As I was saying,” you smile through the snark and slide your hands to his chest, resting against the vibration of his thudding heart, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don’t think there’s just one person out there for everyone—but that’s a good thing, right? I mean, the entire concept of a soulmate is basically just a blackhole. You’re falling, and falling, and falling—and there’s no end; you’re just trapped. There's no choice. I don’t want to love like that—I don’t want to love you like that.” 

It’s cute, the way his face screws up around a theory. It’s a familiar expression, and you can’t help but melt at the knees while you watch his eyes flick back and forth, adding up all your expressions and trying to calculate the meaning. The corner of your mouth pulls into a slip of a smile, “If I turned around right now and never saw you again, I’d be okay. I mean, I wouldn’t drop dead or anything.” 

He sucks in sharply, head jerking back, “What the fu—”

“Hush, I’m almost done.” You keep going before he can interrupt you again, rushing through the rest of your speech, running out of air and restraint, “I think that I could get over you, eventually, years and years from now—but the point is—what I realized is: I don’t want to. I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want to find someone else. Stiles, I love you—I’m in love with you, and I really think tha—”

His lips are wet and warm against yours, and you whine softly into his mouth at the familiarity. He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops on your jeans and yanks you closer, until your chests are pressed together and you can feel him breathe. You were right—the beard burn is delectable.

The kiss slows into something less desperate, something more like forever, and Stiles brushes his lips over yours in a few chaste pecks. When your lashes finally flutter open, you see that he’s grinning at you. It’s so wide, so happy, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he says, “Sorry, you just would not shut up, so I figured it was either kiss you or shove something in your big mouth—and I’m not super confident in my CPR skills. Scott and I really spent most of the time figuring out how many pencils we could fit into the dummy’s mouth.”

“I take it back.” You push his face away from you, but a laugh bubbles past your swollen lips when Stiles pinches your waist. “I hate you.”

“Nope. No refunds.” Stiles shakes his head solemnly and wraps his hand around your hip, squeezing possessively, “You kiss it, you buy it. That’s what Coach said about the dummy.” 

“Well,” your arms find their way around his neck, and your fingers wind into the soft hair curling behind his ears, “you are a dummy.”

“The dumbest,” he agrees. He’s smiling, but his eyes are sincere, cloudy with guilt. “Baby, I never should’ve—”

You take great satisfaction in your turn shutting him up with a kiss, tugging on his hair until you’re on your tiptoes and he’s groaning into your mouth. “I think we’ve been miserable for a long time,” you whisper, breath ghosting across his shiny lips. He shivers, and you press your temple against his forehead, “I think I’ve had enough of it. How ‘bout you?” 

Stiles nods quickly and dips in to kiss you again. “Can I say sorry one more time?” he mumbles, kissing the ridge of your ear.

“I suppose,” you sigh and fall back onto your heels. 

He takes your bag from your shoulder and guides you into his apartment, kicking the door shut so that he doesn’t have to let go of your hand. There’s a thud as he drops the duffle bag onto the floor, and you barely have the time to take-in the ratty little sofa and coffee table piled with empty pizza boxes before he’s on you again. “I’m,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, and it twitches with the contact, “so,” his lips trail to your cheek, “very,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “truly,” to your hairline, “forever-ly,” to the tip of your nose, “sorry,” to your mouth. 

You sigh as he settles in for a real kiss and fall back onto the couch with him on top of you, disrupting his rhythm with a breathy giggle. He braces his weight onto his arms, and you wriggle down until your face is directly below his. “Hi,” you trace his bottom lip with your finger, smiling when he purses his lips to kiss it. 

“Hey.” He looks drunk: cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with pleasure, body loose and free from critical thinking—and you think to yourself that you’d do just about anything to make sure he’s this happy for the rest of his life. 

Stiles rolls, bringing you into his side with an arm around your waist, and presses against your lower back until you're crushed against him. Still, you squirm closer. Neither of you say anything for a long time, content with the sound of each other’s breathing, and then Stiles hums in his throat a little and plays with the ends of your hair, “So. You’re gonna live in New Jersey.”

“Yup,” your mouth pops with the ‘p.’

He grins, “Wow. You must, like, really love me or something.”

“Or something,” you tease, and he bites your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Jersey isn’t so bad,” his voice is muffled against his teeth, still embedded in your sweatshirt. Well, his technically.

You laugh, “It’s not?”

“Nah,” Stiles pulls back to look at you and scratches at the back of his neck, lifting a shoulder, “wouldn’t mind living there for the…beaches.”

“The Shore, you mean?” you grin, trying to imagine Stiles with a bad spray tan and slicked back hair. 

He grins right back and strokes your cheek, “Yeah, I’d move there for the Shore. I’ve actually been searching for just the right opportunity to show off my scrawny arms and pasty complexion. It’s like, what, a 40 minute drive from there to Penn?”

“Trenton would be around that, but I was thinking Pennypack would only be 30 from Princeton.” Stiles looks at you through lidded eyes, suspicious. You grin, “For the cheesesteaks, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he quips, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. His face turns serious as he whispers, “You don’t have to do this,” into the quiet air humming between you. “I would’ve transferred to a school in California if I knew you still wanted me.” A flash of something ignites behind his eyes, warming the amber to whiskey, and he sits up a little, reaching over your head for his phone, “I’ll do it right now.”

You clutch his wrist and shake your head, pulling on his arm until he’s close enough to feel your lashes brush against his skin, “That’s why I didn’t ask. You’ve been dreaming about this program your entire life.”

Stiles is unusually still as he stares you down. His incisor digs into his bottom lip with a cruel bite, “What about your dreams?”

You huff, “What part of #1 don’t you get? I literally just told you to suck it. In case you forgot, I cordially invite you to suck it again, #6.” He smiles, but his eyes remain unconvinced. Your face softens, all the muscles and cartilage going gooey with affection, “It was never about Stanford, Stiles. It was about home. Guess it took you going away to figure out home sucks without you. S'not really home at all, actually.”

His lashes flutter slowly as he blinks, shaking his head, tongue running over his teeth as he struggles for air and words in equal measure. You kiss him until he finds them. “I know you don’t believe in it,” Stiles breathes out, “but I don’t think I could survive you being gone. Not again.”

You stroke over the planes of his face and hum thoughtfully, “I believe you wouldn’t want to.” Your shoulder twitches with a quick shrug as you add, “I know I don’t.”

His mouth chases your fingertips, pressing kisses to them every so often, and he closes his eyes heavily—like he hasn’t slept in months, maybe since the night he broke up with you. “These last few months have been just the fuckin’ worst,” he finally manages a smirk after you kiss his nose in agreement, “like a fuckzillion times worse than the summer I broke my leg, and you and Scott signed up for rec soccer without me.”

“You’ve got to let that go,” your voice is high and whiny, and Stiles’s smirk widens, “we didn’t even win any games.” You tickle him, heart leaping into your throat when he laughs and squirms away from your relentless fingers, “Didn’t have our good luck charm with us, obviously.”

“Obviously,” his grin is smug with satisfaction. Stiles tangles your legs together, legs clunking clumsily but that’s just part of the delicious charm, and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “So, Pennypack, huh.”

You nod, “I really don’t want to live in Jersey.”

You can’t see him, but Stiles peers at you, a little dubious, a lot fond. “And it’s not just for me?”

You grin, caught, and shake your head firmly, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s for the cheesesteaks,” his brow arches, and he seems to finally understand when the room becomes a swathe your smile, of your bubbling laughter: He makes you as happy as you make him. 

“Obviously.” You mean, I love you, I love you, I love you, and I never ever want to stop.  Stiles hears it, of course he does, and he says it back, sealing it with a kiss, “Obviously.”

[sigg-vbj]

Fan Video's

Bakugo didn’t usually waste time scrolling through social media—it wasn’t his style—but even he had those moments where boredom hit like a truck. Today was one of those rare days. Propped up on his couch, his phone in hand, he mindlessly swiped through random videos of heroes doing flashy crap. Most of it was predictable: same moves, same interviews, same dumb flashy quirk stunts.

Then a thumbnail caught his eye.

“Scarlet X’s Big Dog Moments”

The title alone made him pause. Vanessa had gone to America a few months back, and while he knew she was holding her own, he hadn’t really seen her in action over there. He tapped the video, the familiar fiery red 'X' in the thumbnail already intriguing him. What started as curiosity quickly turned into something he hadn’t expected.

The video opened with a bang—literally. Vanessa stood on the edge of a skyscraper, throwing up two middle fingers with her tongue out, looking like she owned the damn skyline. Then, without a second thought, she tipped back and free-fell like gravity was just a suggestion. The timing was perfect, the base of some heavy New York drill track dropping as the scene cut to her mid-air, cosmic red energy glowing around her like she was the queen of the world.

Bakugo blinked. "What the hell...?"

This wasn’t the Vanessa he’d seen at UA, calm and collected with that rare mischievous smirk. This was Scarlet X, fully in her element, showing off like a certified badass.

Whoever made this video wasn’t just good—they were a genius. The clips were fire, blending her coolest takedowns with moments that showed just how much of a presence she had on the streets of New York. Without realizing it, Bakugo hit follow on the account. Of course, it was one of his throwaway accounts—no way in hell would he let anyone know Dynamight was binge-watching fan videos of his... Vanessa.

Each clip had him more hooked than the last.

In one, she spun on her heel after flooring some villain and started Harlem shaking like she was on a stage at Madison Square Garden. "Aye! Aye! Aye!" she shouted, finishing the impromptu dance with a smooth spin and throwing up peace signs.

“Idiot,” Bakugo muttered, but he smirked, shaking his head.

Another video showed her going toe-to-toe with a muscle-bound villain twice her size. At first, she faked out a straight punch, then dodged under his swing before planting an uppercut so clean it looked like it came out of a comic book. The guy went flying, practically orbiting.

Bakugo burst out laughing. “Damn right, show ‘em who’s boss, Puffball.”

Then came the "GET OVER HERE!" moment. Facing the camera with a cocky grin, Vanessa turned and threw a glowing red X at a fleeing thief. The X latched onto his back, and with one sharp yank, she pulled the guy through the air like a ragdoll straight into her grip. The reference was crystal clear.

“Cheeky,” Bakugo muttered, letting out a snicker. "Where’s the fatality, huh?"

But the videos weren’t just goofy or flashy. There were moments where she was simply... Vanessa. Sitting on a stoop, eating a slice of pizza someone handed her as thanks. Floating in mid-air, her cosmic energy gently swirling around her, her face serene like she was meditating. Those clips were quieter, but they hit different. They showed the side of her that wasn’t just a hero but a person.

His smirk softened. His chest warmed a bit—annoyingly so. She wasn’t just Scarlet X; she was Vanessa. The girl who trained with him, roasted him for being too loud, and could take him down a peg without even trying. Seeing her like this, fully in her element, surrounded by fans, showing off for cameras without losing herself—it made him proud.

Bakugo scrolled to the comments.

User123: “Scarlet X is carrying the hero industry in NYC right now.” FanOfScarlet: “No way, she’s too good. That cosmic energy is insane.” ThrowawayGuy99: “I’m down bad for Scarlet X. She can punch me into the stratosphere any day.” DynamightFan47: “Scarlet X and Dynamight collab WHEN?”

His eyes twitched at the last one. He quickly commented on his favorite clip—the one with the uppercut—under his throwaway account.

TotallyNotDynamight: “Yeah, she’s badass. Don’t get used to it, though. She’s got competition.”

He snorted after hitting send. If Vanessa ever found out about this, she’d never let him live it down. But for now, he kept scrolling, rewatching the clips and feeling a rare sense of admiration—for her and her ability to own the spotlight like no one else could. End

[thelaurenshippen]

re: that *chef kiss* PERFECT Franken-Drummer post and tumblr not being all over The Expanse, I know right?? it’s such an amazing show with so many delightful, complicated characters yet it’s so unfairly slept on! maybe because S1 takes awhile to get going and ppl give up? idk but it makes me sad that I have so few ppl to squeal about Drummer and Amos and Bobbie and Christjen and Ashford and Naomi (ad infinitum) with 😭🚀😭

WHY ARE PEOPLE NOT OBSESSED WITH THE EXPANSE HELLO!?!?! there's literally so much to love about it oh my god. you're right, it DOES take a second to get going but once it does!!!

for those of you who have not read or seen The Expanse series (I myself have yet to read the books), let me tell you why you'll love it:

political space drama with incredibly distinct cultures and phenomenal world building, if you're a details girlie (gn), you're gonna go nuts

the found family vibes!!??! are off!?!? the charts!?!? (minor spoilers for the first few episodes) four people are thrown into a situation in which they accidentally become the most important people/fugitives in the whole galaxy and most of them DO NOT trust each other, what could possible go wrong, and even better, what could possibly go RIGHT

Christjen Avasarala. you are not ready for her. most powerful mover-shaker on earth with the most incredible outfits you've ever seen, refined elegance with the filthiest mouth, plus she's got a classic "whatever those two have going on is so gay it veers into something else entirely" with her younger protective knight lady, Bobbie

Bobbie. the "not to be a lesbian but oh my god" post is made for her. we meet her in the show for the first time when she arm wrestles a robot and WINS. you will be begging for her to step on you with her mech suit

speaking of women I want to step on me Camina Drummer. angry revolutionary pirate queen of my heart. do you miss the unique agony of 2000/10s queerbaiting but want it to be not baiting somehow? this show does that, idk how else to explain it. the most agonizing sapphic pining you've ever seen but it's textual and also not painful because its gay. don't worry, Camina fucks, just not the girl she wants most (also spoilers, but this is not a bury your gays show don't worry)

Jim Holden is literally just Some Guy who becomes the special fantasy chosen one because he simply cannot stop Getting Involved. nosiest bitch in the universe, I love him.

imagine you're a girl who leaves your shitty ex and gets a normal industrial job on a spaceship, only to have a six foot, two hundred pound killer dressed as a mechanic imprint on you like a baby duck, and its unclear whether he wants to fuck you or call you a little sister but he definitely WILL kill for you and will do literally anything you say and then you both end up caught up in a weird galactic war by mistake and there's this other guy with a captain america level moral compass and he's cute and you're into him except your shitty ex is still out there with the biggest secret you have and meanwhile your best female friend is the coolest person you've ever met but you don't think you can be what she needs and you're holding your family together, you're holding the universe together and all you want is justice for your people but unfortunately you've gone and fallen in love with the accidental most important man in the galaxy. well, every day Naomi Nagata wakes up

Praxideke Meng. botanist of my heart. literally tames the rabid guard dog that no one else could. gentle and able to stay gentle because of said dog. which brings me to...

Amos Burton. I saved him for last because he is my guy. he is THAT guy. canonically aromantic pansexual king. are you into guard dog characters? do you find yourself drawn to the "sorry my love language is acts of service and all I'm good at is killing people" characters? amos burton is like seventeen tumblr posts come to life. previously mentioned enormous killer dressed as a mechanic, former heels wearing "I didn't always work in space" sex worker who is always rolling into brothels and being like "you guys unionized?", gives a shit about basically no one in the universe except his crew and every single child in the galaxy, accidental comedian because he cannot stop saying weird shit, not a nice or good person but a loyal one, and one who is always trying to relearn the empathy that was carved out of him as a young person. every time he goes homicidal to protect one of his chosen people (crew + any and every child), an angel gets its wings.

fin.

[mr-archaeoptryx]

I finished their designs :3

Anyways not too sure what I want to call this AU but I've kinda settled on "The Blocks".

More about it undercut if you care idk:

I don’t want to say much about them because I want to write fanfic about this and I don’t want to spoil it so sorry if this sounds barebones or is confusing :(

Some quick before things: This AU is in a world where all of humanity has been forced into a highly structured society. Basically everyone was kidnapped and forced into cryosleep except for people part of this secret organization who’ve begun to create this super structured world

Cities are just numbered and under each city are the “Blocks”, 4 per city, 1 a daycare, the other three for people 18+. Blocks all have 100 members (people who have been awoken from cryosleep) and have a strict ruleset, if a member breaks a rule, they’re killed. The last remaining member is allowed to leave and live in the “new world”. Daycares don’t do that (kill members (kids)) they just teach them to follow the new rules. They also get their education there so once they’ve graduated they’re allowed to leave.

(⚾Scout) Jeremy, Block Master Assistant (Block 3)

He’s the main character or something. His one goal is to be a Block Master because his dad works as the admin for the blocks and would always come home talking about it and he just thought it was the coolest thing.

(🇺🇸Soldier) Block Master Doe (Block 2)

Think the most like patriotic, pro-american (but not for america), drill sergeant- so he’s basically the same person. For every AU I make where Soldier is included he’s always the same person because I just love him so much.

(🔥Pyro) Moe/Puff, Block Daycare Attendant (Block 1)

They’re mute :3 They help Heavy in the daycare and their pyromaniac thing isn’t there, they’re just insane. They see the whole world as Pyroland but not everything has to be on fire for it, they’re just like that. Also Moe is their name but Puff is what they let all the kids call them because they're always wearing a puffy jacket

(💣Demo) Tavish, Block Master Assistant (Block 2)

He’s very laid back, he might genuinely let people get away with offenses as long as Doe didn’t see it, he’s mostly there to keep Doe in check and also because I’m a boots and bombs shipper and they’re gay :3

(🧸Heavy) Mikhail, Block Daycare Teacher (Block 1)

Leader of Block 1/the daycare. Block 1 leaders are really nice because they’re whole job is to just teach/watch over kids so he’s just genuinely wholesome :) He tries to get the other Block Masters (Ludwig & Doe) to be better but he’s given up on Doe and Ludwig might be too far gone

(🔧Engie) Dell, Block Maintenance Overseer

There are teams of people who maintain the blocks (he’s one of them), He works with the Admin and Block Masters to keep Blocks up to date. Currently he’s a bit busy because Block 4 had some accident that no one is allowed to know about and it’s not working but everything is totally fine guys 👍

(🫀Medic) Block Master Ludwig (Block 3)

The Knife from Camp Belica in Wolfenstein: The New Order, him fr fr.

(🐊Sniper) Mundy, City 16 - Block 3 Member (32)

Member of Block 3, member number 32. He really couldn’t care less.

(🚬Spy) Jacques, City 16 Blocks Admin

I could’ve just used TF2’s administrator but I have another idea for her and then I also wouldn’t’ve known what to do with Mr. Spy. He’s like the mayor of City 16 but he mostly looks over the Blocks, not the whole thing.

If anyone wants to send asks about this I'd be happy to answer. Also I guess asks for characters are fine, I think if I get any for those I might draw the character to go with it to kinda show their designs a little more. Idk I am just really excited about this AU and want to share it <3

[tzyuki]

[ 박성훈 ] THE WAY THINGS GO ꒰ P.SH x F!READER

003. coolest girl | smau + written (947 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ — y/n returns to korea after three years of college due to her grandmother being too sick and unable to care for herself. she transfers to hybe university for her senior year, bumping into a bunch of her old school friends. but once she bumps into her best friend of 7 years she’s unrecognizable to him due to the fact they haven’t seen nor talked to each other in 4 years. she can’t remember how to say his name to call out for him, or even remember how many moles he had on his face.

“WOOOO!” Y/n clapped and cheered as the home team scored. “Do you always go to school games?” Y/n asked Chaewon. “Not always, when Sunghoon played hockey his freshman year I went to a lot of them but when we drifted apart we stopped talking and he quit.” Chaewon said as she nodded her head.

“He played? I didn’t know he played hockey.” Y/n’s eyebrow furrowed. “He was just fooling around on the rink and the coach saw him…it was when the year just started and you had left for America. He started to skate again because he “was bored” I called bullshit.” Chaewon did finger quotations.

Sunghoon grew up figure skating. Y/n was always there to watch his routines and practices, but when Y/n started to take an interest in dance she convinced Sunghoon to try it to help with his technique. He ended up falling in love with dancing. It was a hard decision for him to make, but with Y/n there with him he enjoyed it. For college, Sunghoon would take up Dance…and Y/n would take up Music Performance…all the way across the world.

He did hockey because at least he’d still be on ice, just not doing beautiful routines. Instead fighting for a puck with a team of other guys. In a way, it was his coping mechanism, because with dance it was Y/n’s and his thing. With ice skating, it was his own thing. On the rink, all he could focus on was winning. On stage, all he could think of was dancing with her.

“Oh,” Y/n’s face faltered. “So he stopped skating completely now?” Y/n loved Sunghoon’s dancing skills, she was happy he found a new interest in dance of course, but skating was what made her like him so much…it’s where she saw the truest form of him.

“Yeah, he mainly dances now.” Chaewon put her attention back to the game before suddenly bringing her head back to Y/n. “Oh! he does the holiday festivals so you’ll definitely see him every time you guys have a performance.”

“Sometimes they even dance to a live band, maybe they’ll ask you to play the guitar for them.”

Y/n thought about how that’d be. Y/n playing the guitar on stage whilst Sunghoon dances to it, it’d be amazing.

—

“Do you want to go to the after party?” Chaewon asked as the two walked down the stadium stairs. “There’s an after party?” Y/n asked. “Yeah, almost every win they get there’s an after party. It’s at the team's house.”

“Do we have to be invited?” Y/n and Chaewon tried their best to stick close to each other, worried they’d get separated. “No, the guys are chill. Everyone’s welcome…” Chaewon was sticking her head out everywhere, trying to find a certain someone.

Suddenly someone bumped into the back of them. “Shit—Sorry!” The boy gasped. “Chaewon! You haven’t been to one of our games in a while, last year you only went to two.” The boy slightly pouted.

“Hi, you must be the transfer girl.” The boy stuck his hand out to Y/n. “I’m Ej,” He shook the girl's hand with excitement. “I’m Y/n.” Y/n smiled at Ej.

“Are you guys going to the after party?” Nicholas asked the two. Y/n could tell Chaewon was screaming on the inside. “Yeah, we’re going.” Chaewon said in the most cool way she could.

“Cool, I’ll see you there.” Nicholas said, looking directly at Chaewon.

Y/n shoved her phone into her back pocket, taking a few deep breaths as she walked to Sunghoon. The boy looked frantically to Heeseung, who was clearly high…and not helping the latter.

“Sunghoon, hi!” Y/n said, in a calm tone. “Hi…Y/n!” Sunghoon tried to act a little confused and dumb. “Sunghoon…do you really not know or are you just playing around?” Y/n asked.

At first she thought Sunghoon was just being kind, waving to the new girl with no idea who she was. But for the past three weeks has he still not recognized the girl he had been saying hi to?

“It’s me, Y/n. Baek Y/n.” Y/n said, a little hurt was heard in her voice. “Oh, yeah. I know!” Sunghoon said, clearly acting cool.

“Oh. Okay—uhm. I’ll see you around then…I guess.” Y/n’s voice faltered a little. She didn’t know Sunghoon would be so nonchalant about her return.

She walked through bodies trying to find where she had left Chaewon, saying “Sorry” here and there.

“Sorry.” Y/n said as she bumped into this guy's shoulder. “Y/n! Hey!” Jay grabbed her shoulder, recognizing the girl. “I heard you were back, I haven’t seen you around campus so I didn’t get the chance to welcome you back!”

“I miss you.” Jay dragged out as he hugged the girl, picking her off her feet a little.

“Jake! This is Y/n! She’s the coolest girl I knew in high school!” Jay shouted as he gently shook the girl as he had his arm around her.

“Hi, I’m Jake!” Y/n noticed his heavy accent. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” Y/n smiled at the boy.

“How are you? It's been like what—five years? I miss you man!” Jay asked. “I’m glad someone missed me.” Y/n joked.

“Oh, Sunghoon? Don’t worry about him, he’s just trying to play it cool. When he realized who you were he freaked out…don’t tell him I told you that.” He whispered the last part into her ear.

“Okay, got it.” Y/n laughed. She had missed the presence of her old friends.

—

m.list — previous — next

taglist : @yenqa @jiawji @lilriswife4life @ahnneyong @heart4hees @infpistj @mrchweeee @txtbrainrot t @ja4hyvn @nanaheex @bunchofroses07 @rikisly @oldjws @viagumi @ariadores @poollabug @hexoolio @lhsvibez @gyuijns @in2fly @alwayswook @enhaz1

[yanderederee]

¡暴走族\旧車會!ｘ!ヤンキ!ｘ! 助番¡

What is the New Generation of Delinquents?

~*,`¢

Tokyo Revengers plot circles around Bōsōzoku subculture, which is why I love it as deeply as I do.

!! Update: Discussion Piece(6.14.23): Tokyo Manji Honorary Division

Bōsōzoku culture derives/d from lower class Japanese youth who’ve banded together to express dissatisfaction with Japanese Society.

America is very familiar with countercultural movements lmao. Punk/Grunge/Metal/etc…

Youth are aimless, reckless, and rebellious.

If you’ve ever enjoyed the book The Outsiders by S.E Hinton , you know this is a prime example of brotherhood bonds between lower class hoodlums. In Oklahoma, of all places.

Otherwise known as; Yankii, Sukeban, Kyushakai.

Who is a Yankii?

The Rise and Fall of Bōsōzoku

When Bōsōzoku Youth evolve past crime, Kyushakai

#GirlGang: Sukēban<33

This article is really awesome in explaining cultural differences, feel free to read up on some if you’re interested.

Today I plan to point out a few:

Yankii Mothers / YanMaMa; Ryoko Baji

early ’90s, yankii men occasionally entered construction and teen women had children and dropped out of high school — both stereotypes that persist today. *The young yankii mothers — yan mama — were often ostracized by other mother groups and struggled to assimilate to their new identities as parents.

Within a year of publication, Yan Mama Comic had reached of circulation of 120,000, helping to bond socially isolated communities of young mothers.

…

NO DOUBT ABOUT IT FOLKS; Ryoko and Baji’sDad were definitely two yankii teens who fell in love and had a kid too young.

Headcanon! That Keisuke’s parents were set on making a badass life together, and be awesome young parents with the coolest and toughest new punk kid to add to the books!

…But, they were still two idiots. Baji’s father probably ran head first, sacrificing himself in one way or another, I’m sure.

This leads you to wonder ~..

How did everyone else come to this lifestyle?

What is Their Social Injustice?

(All headcanons but kinda factual,so…)

Mikey: all younger siblings admire their older brothers! Shinichiro was the leader of a biker gang, of course Mikey would want to follow in his footsteps! So Mikey’s reason soon turns to::

Shinichiro: By being a overall stand up guy, true to his word and genuine to a fault, he had a strength not a lot of people had. He welcomed friendships with BlackSheep, and made a home for them however he could. Strong ally’s stood by him and as long as he’s around, they would support his ideals in shaping a better future.

Draken: was literally born into it. Escorts have been judged and poorly treated left and right, taking care of yourself—with a child to boot; was hell for a women. Unwanted kids of “filth” aren’t usually welcomed in social circles. The Children bare the injustice of inconvenience. By living with escorts and witnessing first hand the “low-class work” so many have had to endure to make a decent way of life, Draken learned young that life was unfair. So to live, you have to make a way of life for yourself, unapologeticly.

Mitsuya: Poor kids are looked down on a lot. Made fun of for things they can’t control. Kids with jobs are looked down on for being in the working class so soon. With a mother who was never home, and taking care of two younger sisters, he needed strength to deal with how unfair his life was. Meeting Draken, and realizing that the struggle to survive and keep trying to have a family even when it’s hard, he started respecting his mother a lot more. He found a sense of belonging Toman…

Baji: also literally born into it. Grew up with a single mother who was looked down on for being young/dropping out of school. Supporting her as the only Man of the house, Keisuke takes after his mother’s confidence. He also is seen having an alternative sense of fashion, making me believe he is definitely a metal head.

Kazutora: dealt with a lot growing up. He was bullied for being a sheepish pushover. He was hit by his father for any level of individuality /expression of defiance. He was manipulated into always having to pick one right side, and that there was always one wrong side. He tries showing loyalty by giving everything he has to friendships that hurt him, without realizing friends shouldn’t hurt him. No matter who he was, there was never anyone he could just be a person with. Be a part of the perfect high status family you were born into, or face the punishments. He finds comfort when he finds a family he can trust and be a person who makes mistakes. Friends are meant to be treasured. And after meeting Baji, and joining Toman, he found somewhere he could belong.

Pah: I still need to look more into him I can’t lie.

Takemichi: Bozosoku culture is notorious for being social justice fighters, as the entire notion of a subculture is to defy societal injustice anyway. And that’s just who Takemitchi is; a friend to everyone.

Hinata: the prime example of Dating into the lifestyle. It’s easy to admire and possibly fall in love with people as passionate as rebellious, adrenaline junky teens. She’s empathetic to how others see Takemichi, knowing above all else, he loves her more than anything!

Emma: she never really got into being a part of the gang, but she was by association. All of her brothers. She’s always been the crown jewel of TokyoManji! But not only that; Emma isn’t fully Japanese. True, a lot of the cast is multinationality. But she has Mikey on her side. She is his family, and that makes her strong. Foreigners are often ostracized, easy to pick out due to her natural Blonde hair. (*blonde hair is also often an act of rebellion, she showing that she refuses to dye it black to fit in can also say a little about other issues-)

LETS NOT FORGET!!! TOMAN IS BUILD ON THE BACK OF “The Little guy who sticks up for the Weak”.

The series is based on what kind of world Manjiro Sano chooses to build. Every timeline is unintentionally set by his hand, because he is that powerful of a person. Because people follow him. Manjiro is the type of person who changes fates.

By losing Shinichiro; Manjiro loses Empathy.

Shinichiro was a charismatic and empathetic person, often putting differences aside to better the other person. He was a heavily respected person in the delinquent world of Japan as the founder of Black Dragon. He led Black Dragon with a humble heart and was treated with notable respect, while also being a big brother to all three of his siblings. Even though he was a weak fighter, he lead the Black Dragon with his immense charisma. Even years after his death, later generations of members still hold him in high regard.

A person like Shinichiro is the kind of man people follow. The Weak Guy sticking up for his friends; The One who Always Won..

In a subculture seeking structure, he is the perfect person to leading a generation of a kinder and more empathetic people.

So let’s wrap up the question!;

What is the New Generation of Delinquents?

!TO.MANji !!

[meow-ali3nz]

|NICO| #25|

- He has some type of skin condition such as eczema or smt and or has dermatiliomania (skin picking) and is why he wears several bandages around his body

- He’s Brazilian, I simply headcanon this because energetic+tan character with no canon nationality is Brazil like me :D

- He has absolutely no concept of romance besides what rock/uno tell him

- He likely had the shortest sentencing of the three (uno rock him) since he is the youngest (and if we were to say the crime of killing jyugo and such happened three years ago Nico would be 12-13 and actively being experimented on and uno would have been 15-16 basically old enough to drive [in America] rock would’ve been 16-17 also Nico could’ve maybe gotten a sentencing like guilty with reason of insanity or smt of the sorts)

- I think this is canon to some extent but he literally can’t survive outside of nanbaka due to all the medication he’s on and the fact he’s likely (I think he is) illiterate and probably the highest education he got was 2nd grade, and meds are not cheap in America.

- scoliosis, again I have it therefore so does he.

- if he were to ever leave nanba he’d wear the tackiest anime merchandise and think he was the coolest guy on the block

- he probably cussed like a sailor/has very foul language but toned it down for jyugos sake

-I think he was raised in New York, just because I wanted to think of a real location and again I lived there and didn’t like it much therefore it’s the exact same with him.

- I think he does have parents who are still alive (even if it’s just one or a really shitty one) and the only reason they’re not mentioned is cause they either thought Nico was dead/forever lost and due to the deal Nico had with hiro they never contacted the parents or they’re under some kind of NDA thing or had Nico taken by CPS in some kind of way. (An interesting idea I have is that after the whole jyugo fiasco nicos dad or mom finds him in nanba and tried to get him released)

|JYUGO| #15|

- His convicted crimes were probably pick pocketing and breaking and entering, only due to his escaping and connections with hiro did he get sent to nanba

- definitely a kleptomaniac, like who learns to pick locks like that if not to steal shiny shit from chests and vaults.

-tan+gets light vitiligo when extremely stressed (on his hands specifically)

-not illiterate for the most part can read better than Nico can

- definitely had dyslexia to some extent

-was a full (or mostly full) ginger at some point then dyed his hair black because uno and Nico kept bullying him.

- He enjoys a good otome game or slice of life anime

- Emo

-scoliosis, same reason as Nico but I also think this because of the fact of how he was raised as small wee child and also just do to how many times he was attempted to be born

- constantly forgets to eat or drink water, the only reason he hasn’t died yet due to this is because he eats whenever the other three do and drinks whenever they do

[SPOILERSSSSS]

-I think he misses Nico rock and uno despite remembering he was murdered by them, even though they killed him he still believes they care for him

- He probably has reoccurring nightmares about his mother or elf killing Nico uno or rock (even after the events of the story)

- he has a hard time eating, sleeping or really just existing without the other three

|UNO| #11|

- genuinely hates tea and every time someone mentions it he gets made fun of by jyugo

- he’s totally a rich kid

- passed college and such then started gambling and stuff.

[idk ;(]

|ROCK| #69|

Genuinely everything I headcanoned him as came true.

- his gang buddies visit him sometimes

- one gang friend in particular actually changed his ways and became a guard/lawyer or smt

[again idk shō futama didn’t give me much to work with]

What’re y’all’s headcanons? I have some for characters like kojirou and ido/mei rokudo Jin and manji etc etc :3 I’m just curious if people in the

fandom would enjoy my rantings.

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

GQ Magazine - July 2007

The Summer of Jessica Biel

To celebrate Biel’s being in a movie actually worth seeing, we sent Adam Stein to play carnival games with her.

When I told various friends I’d be interviewing Jessica Biel, I got the responses you’d expect—jealousy, mild rage, a plea to give her a phone number because she’s the one person that a friend’s wife would give him a free pass to sleep with. The uncanny thing is, when I asked these guys what they thought of her as an actress, most of them drew a blank. They hadn’t seen a single motion picture of hers. Okay, one or two had girlfriends who’d brought them to see The Illusionist, but otherwise, nada. As my friend Taj put it: “I’m obsessed with a girl I’ve never seen move.“

Well, that’s about to change. Later this month, men across America will see Jessica being very good in a very funny movie, and the nature of their love for her will…deepen. She’ll still be inhumanly beautiful, sure, but now they’ll have to contend with genuine talent, too, and that one-two punch can be disorienting. You know what else can? The fact that despite her recent tabloid exposure, she’s actually sweet, funny, earnest, occasionally a little crude, and—if my time playing carnival games with her can be used as evidence—uniquely driven to conquer whatever stands between Jessica Biel and what she wants.

I am waiting for her at the Santa Monica Pier, sitting on a stool next to one of those games where you shoot water from a gun into a clown’s mouth. I haven’t shaved for a week, because I read somewhere that Jessica Biel likes guys with beards. I’m inspecting mine in the reflective back of my iPod when a nice-looking young woman materializes in my view. “Excuse me,“ she says. “Are you Adam?“ “Jessica?“ I ask, ridiculously. Of course it’s her, in wraparound sunglasses, an open gray sweater over a white blouse, and faded jeans. She wears checkered Vans, like Jeff Spicoli. On the pier, no one recognizes her, which I suppose makes sense: There’s little resemblance between the pinup girl and the sneaker-wearing civilian out on a Monday afternoon. She doesn’t stick out as we walk the wooden planks of the amusement park; she blends in. She is, you might say, a very chill girl.

“Can we get a photo next to a star?“ she asks, stopping in front of a booth hawking photographs with huge cardboard cutouts of celebrities. It’s an impressive, eclectic array: Bill Clinton, Mini Me, Michael Jordan, Hilary Duff, Enrique Iglesias(!), Jean-Claude Van Damme, DiCaprio in Titanic. “They’re all kind of old,“ she says. I don’t know if she means the cutouts or the celebrities themselves (because to me, Mini Me will never age). She’s only 25 years old, so it could go either way. I ask her who she’d most want to pose with. She scrutinizes the assembly and makes her call: “I’d probably pick Van Damme, ‘cause he looks the coolest.“ She takes the Muscles from Brussels over Leo—a victory of might over sensitivity. Nice.

Then she decides it’s time for the games to begin. She passes up the Riptide Ring Toss (“That one is impossible,“ she says) and focuses her attention on the Pier Plank Plunge. The PPP is basically a rope ladder suspended horizontally over an inflatable mattress. The trick is to climb, perfectly balanced, to a taunting red button placed approximately ten feet away. Press the button, win the prize—an enormous Sonic the Hedgehog. I ask her if she’s ever Pier Plank Plunged before. “Yes,“ she says, assessing the structure, looking for its weaknesses. “But I’ve never been able to achieve it.“ She begins barraging the bored-looking carny with questions. “Do you have any tips?“ (It’s all about balance.) “Have you done it before?“ (Nope.) “Has anyone ever won?“ (Yeah.) “Has anyone won today?“ (Not yet.) She turns to me, and I have to say she seems genuinely excited. “This is our chance,“ she says. “It’s our chance to win.“ I’m beginning to get the distinct impression that winning is important to Jessica Biel. “Ladies first“ being the imperative, I take the initial go-round. It’s harder than it looks. My arms shake. Everything shakes. I can feel her hopefulness—Do it, get there—but I fall off within seconds. The shame is truly surprising. I wanted to do it for Jessica and failed. She throws me a “good try“ before stepping up herself.

Jessica was a gymnast when she was younger, and the training appears to be paying off as she mounts the unstable rope ladder. (It also occurs to me that the view I currently have is one the paparazzi would kill for.) She deploys a disciplined crawl, gets tantalizingly close to the red button, reaches for it—and loses her balance, flips over, and lands flat on the cushion, laughing. “Holy shit,“ she yells. “It’s so hard. That’s so frustrating.“ The carny asks if we’d like to try again. She pauses for a moment, looking at the button, and then, with obvious reservations, demurs. “You were really, really close,“ I tell her. “I know,“ she says, still staring at it, reluctant to move, apparently, without conquering the damn thing. “That’s how it gets you.“

Next up is something called the Hi-Striker, a game in which you swing a mallet to test your strength. I take three feeble swings, each one less successful than the last. A huge Hispanic man laughs every time I bring the mallet down on the metal block, and when I exit the cage and hand it off to the female attendant, she takes one exhibition swing and makes my emasculation complete. Up goes the projectile. Ping goes the bell.

J.B. watches, rapt. “Look at her awesome stance,“ she whispers, absorbing the details, memorizing the motion. Some actors “find“ their characters via a process of internalization—investigating emotions, plumbing psychology, creating an “inner life.“ This is known as the inside-out approach. Other actors work outside-in—developing a walk, a gesture, a physicality. Look at, say, Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby. Look at Jessica Biel in the Hi-Striker cage.

Mimicking the attendant’s, her first swing easily skunks my best effort. And she improves with each attempt. She’s getting into character. As she exits the cage, there’s a look of satisfaction on her face. She returns the mallet to the attendant, who looks at me and says: “She did better than you.“ As we leave, I ask her: “Is it more technique than strength?“ She shakes her head. “Brute strength,“ she says. “You just throw it up and slam it as hard as you can.“ On our way off the pier, we pass Zoltar, the animatronic fortune-teller who turned that kid into Tom Hanks in Big. Zoltar senses us and speaks: “Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved.“ Zoltar makes Jessica smile. She digs his philosophy.

Jessica Biel’s destiny, at least of late, has led her to a prominent place in the trashy supermarket gossip rags. First it was snapshots of social excursions with second-banana studs (Chris Evans, Ryan Reynolds). Then, upping the ante, there was a beach fling with a sports icon (Derek Jeter). And then, in February, she grabbed the tabloid brass ring for reportedly nabbing the world’s most eligible bachelor, Justin Timberlake. Unsurprisingly, it’s not something she’ll discuss.

One thing she is happy talking about, though, is the unladylike girth of her knuckles. We’re getting dinner at an unassuming Italian trattoria across the street from the pier when she flashes those meaty joints and describes her nascent production company. “It was almost called Fat Knuckle Films. Because I have fat knuckles. See?“ she asks. “They don’t really look that way until you start putting rings on them, and then it stops right there.“

I have to say, Jessica Biel’s chunky midfingers are endearing, human, attainable—a word she uses a number of times in our conversation, as if to remind the world that she’s just a regular girl from Boulder, Colorado, who happens to have been called, by Esquire magazine in 2005, the Sexiest Woman Alive.

“At first I felt really embarrassed about it,“ she says. “You know, it’s a weird thing to talk about. Like, ‘Hey, guys. Guess what?’ You don’t just go telling everybody that.“ She shifts her weight forward and goes on: “But after I got over that, I just started to embrace it. I started thinking, If I ever do have kids, and if they have kids, I can tell them: ‘You know what? Your grandma in 2000-and-whatever was the Sexiest Woman Alive. How about that, kids?’ That’s what I started to think about. I’ll always have that picture to say, ‘That’s what Granny used to look like.’ “

Before coming out here to get my ass handed to me at the Hi-Striker, I immersed myself in Jessica Biel’s Collected Works. She got her start in the mid-’90s on 7th Heaven, the WB dramedy that made a splash with the moral-values set, before leaving around 2002 for bigger (and badder) things. It’s been a grim scene ever since: Summer Catch (2001), which starred Freddie Prinze Jr. and stands at number forty-nine on Rotten Tomatoes’ 100 Worst- Reviewed Films of All Time. The Rules of Attraction (2002), notable only for Fred Savage shooting heroin between his toes and saying things like “I can feel my dick.“ (Remarkably, Biel comes across as fresh and charming, despite the astonishing pointlessness and nihilism of the flick.) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003), which was Biel’s first top billing and is her biggest box-office performer to date, with a take of about $80 million. J.B. screams her head off throughout the movie and is entirely believable in distress, but you can’t help thinking as you watch her, There’s got to be better material than this. Sadly, no. There was an atrocity called Cellular, in 2004, and Blade: Trinity that same year (in which Biel kicks much undead ass as a midriff-baring vampire hunter). But the nadir has to be London, in ’06, a delusional piece of trash that starts off with a sex scene, Biel on top, saying, “Are you coming? Are you coming?“ before she proceeds to another not-quite-dignified act and then dips out of the frame to, presumably, swallow. Like I said, a grim scene.

And then, just in the nick of time, salvation arrived. A script called The Illusionist, to star Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti. There was a problem, though. The filmmakers didn’t want to give Biel an audition. They weren’t convinced the vampire-hunting Hollywood creation could rearrange herself into the role of a refined fin de siècle Hungarian duchess.

But Jessica Biel has a hard time taking no for an answer. And when another actress “dropped out“ of the film, her tenacity paid off. They finally brought her in. She arrived wearing a full period costume. She made them take her seriously, she says, and three days later, an offer arrived.

The Illusionist wasn’t what you’d call a “hit,“ but it got good reviews, made decent money, and changed the industry’s perception of her. Doors that were closed began to open. They just weren’t opening fast enough for her taste.

She sets down her after-dinner tea and says, “I want choices. I want options. I want to lay out all the directions I could go and have the ability to choose. I’m slowly starting to have that now.“ It’s the “slowly“ that kills her.

One film that will almost surely expedite the process is I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, which will be released this month. It stars Adam Sandler and Kevin James as two Brooklyn firefighters who pretend to be a gay couple in order to receive domestic-partner benefits. J.B. plays the female lead, their hoodwinked attorney who falls for Sandler by the end of the picture.

Chuck and Larry is Jessica’s first real shot at popular, mainstream film success. Unlike her previous big-budget endeavors, it doesn’t rely on CGI or fetishistic weaponry to make its points. It is also—apologies to Freddie Prinze Jr. —her first comedy.

“It was a little bit intimidating,“ she says. “I really admire Adam and Kevin, but then, I didn’t try to equal them or one-up them, and the character I created didn’t have to be that. She’s the straight woman, but very fun and very cool and just—attainable. That’s the kind of part that I’d like to play more. I mean, a vampire hunter? Is that really attainable? I’d just like to play something a little more quirky, interesting, outrageous. And uninhibited.“

“You’re not worried that she can do comedy,“ the movie’s director, Dennis Dugan, tells me. “You can tell she can do comedy. So we just met her and cast her. I really think she can have one of those diverse, Oscar-winning careers. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no horizon to her talent.“

The sun has gone down, and we’re standing on the sidewalk in front of the Italian joint, across from the pier. I’m holding a small stuffed Spider-Man doll that Jessica won as a prize back at the amusement park and which she’s given to me to give to my son. I ask what she’s doing tonight, and she says she’s playing chaperone to a girlfriend on a first date. “Basically, I’m her wingman tonight,“ she says. “I’ll probably slip away if it’s rolling along well.“

She graciously agrees to a photograph with me, which I would include except for two reasons: (1) I don’t want to make Justin Timberlake jealous, and (2) you never quite understand how unattractive you are until you see yourself in a picture with Jessica Biel.

I watch her as she walks toward the pier. I know it’s where her car is parked, but I have this image of her heading straight back to the Pier Plank Plunge. The carny won’t know who she is, nobody on the pier will recognize her, and she’ll just hand over her fiver and go at it. That red button, almost within her reach. Attainable.

[transfem-monarchist-laura-rolla]

kawajiri #10

kawajiri #10 is VAMPIRE HUNTER D: BLOODLUST

i watched the dub which is actually the way this was meant to be seen (it was made specifically for american distribution because ninja scroll was so big over here, kawajiri one of those directors who's way bigger in america than his home country. shinichiro watanabe type guy), but i don't think it fits this too well. it's not exactly the cyber city oedo dub, which is just gleefully being the trashiest thing imaginable, but it feels a bit pulpier than this story needs. this is a pulpy story, but the characters shouldn't know that, and it isn't as pulpy as this dub is! i may just be too much of a weeb but the japanese dub feels way better to me. it's not bad or anything, just not as good. it doesn't help that they keep saying d is a dunpeal instead of dhampir, which is a problem. sometimes the people who made a thing making demands for how a proper noun gets translated are just flat out wrong. arucard, moonbeam butterfly, things of that nature 

anyways, this is the coolest god damn movie i have seen in my life. every single frame is dripping in atmosphere and every scene has an insane new thing and somehow it all comes together perfectly in what i can only really describe as a miracle movie. the opening scene is one of the best depictions ever of some Classic Dracula Shit (invading a victorian looking town, destroying the symbols of the church, kidnapping maidens, looking classy as fuck) and then the next shot is of a fucking cathedral space station. what a perfect introduction to this movie, which is the perfect mix of classic gothic horror and gonzo scifi fantasy. vampires as tragic romantic figures but still horrifying monsters. cool shadow demons, mad max tanks with cross shaped headlights, old west saloons, the rusted ruins of oil refineries, gothic jewel encrusted spaceships launching from the coolest haunted castle imaginable.

this movie has some of the best hand painted backgrounds i've ever seen. it's a style that was super common in this pre-digital era of anime, but while those backgrounds are always beautiful they don't always mesh perfectly with the actual moving animation. if you aren't careful the top layer will look flat compared to the lush backgrounds. a good example of this is actually the og vampire hunter d movie, which is gorgeous but also kind of janky at times because of this problem. it's especially unfortunate there because it's trying to capture the inimitable yoshitaka amano's art, which is tricky under the best of circumstances and basically impossible while under the constraints that movie was. but this movie avoids this by having everything, characters included, drawn with the appropriate amount of lavish detail to fit together without either ever feeling out of place. it isn't an exact replica of amano's art he did for the novels this is based on, but it captured the vibe very well and it's super close. this movie isn't really innovating outside of its style, and even the aesthetic is just the kind of thing kawajiri had been doing since wicked city ramped up to the most extreme version it's possible to do, but that doesn't matter. it's got solid ideas executed well with some of the best visual presentation i've ever seen

AND it has no gross horny sexual assault scenes! which is really something considering the novel this is based on apparently does have those, they just got cut out for the movie. extremely glad that's the case, this movie has killer vibes and it would suck massively if i had to even have that as a caveat like the og 1985 vampire hunter d movie, much less the movie ruining levels of it shit like ninja scroll had.

[shannendoherty-fans]

September 1991 - Shannen Doherty, Luke Perry, Jaqson Priestley and all the "Beverly Hills, 90210" gang at the US magazine.

THE FALL ENTERTAINMENT PREVIEW

For everything, there is an entertainment season. You may want to take it all in or turn, turn, turn it all off, but one thing's for sure, you can't avoid it. So kick back, look at what's in store and take your pick. • The networks' experimental phase seems to be over (for now). Sitcoms are flourishing, with very few hour-long dramas on the schedule. Pfeiffer, Pacino and Moore are all going to be visiting a theater near you. Mariah Carey and Barbra Streisand will try to fill the void left by the lack of the long-awaited Bruce Springsteen album. But what makes entertainment so exciting are the inevitable surprises. After all, who would have picked a rotund guy named Schwarzkopf to be the star of last year's fall season? Only in America.

FAST TIMES AT TEEN ANGST HIGH

Take a handful of beautiful babes and Doherty. After he demands refreshments, extra bedding and hunks, toss in some smart story lines, add a liberal dose of adolescent hor- mones, give it time to simmer and what have you got? TV's coolest prime-time hit: 'Beverly Hills, 90210'.

By Karen Schoemer, Photographs by Timothy White.

BARE-CHESTED AND GRINNING, LUKE PERRY stands on the Beverly Hills, 90210 soundstage, prepping for a scene. Two women from the crew hover over him: One lightly dabs his face with a makeup sponge, and the other fastidiously wraps his lean torso in a cotton bandage to signify the broken ribs Perry's character, Dylan McKay, has sustained in a surfing accident. Perry holds his arms above his head and chats merrily about his "studly" physique and "the large shadows cast by my chest," before he dons a white T-shirt through which the bandages poke sympathetically. Preparations complete, he takes a quick drag or two from a Marlboro Light and saunters onto the set. Time to go to work. Time for a make-out scene.

Perry lies down on a couch in the Walsh family living room. With his arm draped luxuriously over the sofa's back and his head cushioned by piles of pillows, he suggests nothing so much as a Roman aristocrat waiting for his grapes to be peeled. In fact, this particular episode has the recuperating Dylan being waited on hand and foot by ex-girlfriend Brenda Walsh, played by Shannen reading material, Brenda stands before him and says with more than a hint of sarcasm, "Anything else?" "Just one more thing," whispers Dylan seductively. "You." Brenda falls on top of him, and the two share a passionate reconciliatory smooch.

"We're trying to keep the set clear," says the assistant director with attempted delicacy. The remark would probably be lost on Perry, who isn't the least bit shy about his vocational duties. "It beats other jobs I've had," Perry says later. "Kissing girls for a living is not a bad way to go.'

Perry has every reason to be enjoying life right now: Beverly Hills, 90210, airing Thursday nights on Fox, is one of the hottest shows on television, and its cast - especially Perry, Doherty, and Jason Priestley, who plays the show's leading man, Brandon Walsh have become some of the most talked-about young actors in Hollywood. Set in a ritzy Beverly Hills high school, 90210 looks at such teen issues as pregnancy, drunk driving, peer pressure and AIDS through the eyes of the Walsh kids, two transplanted Minnesotans. Like a pubescent thirtysomething, 90210 truly excels at melodrama; a single hour of the show packs enough teen angst to fill a year's worth of scrawled diary entries.

Also like thirtysomething, 90210 works on a deceptively simple formula: quality writers, quality directors, and a creative team that balances youthful enthusiasm with years of TV experience. The husband-and-wife team of Steve Wasserman and Jessica Klein, the series' story editors, have written for CBS's smart smash, Northern Exposure. Writer and executive producer Charles Rosin produced several made-for-TV movies and was the supervising producer at Northern Exposure last season. Episode directors have included movie folk like Tim Hunter (The River's Edge) and such cuttingedge TV directors as Charles Braverman (The Brotherhood of Justice). Rounding out the team are 30-year-old creator/ writer/supervising producer Darren Star, a newcomer whose 90210 pilot was the first he'd ever written, and TV production legend Aaron Spelling (his long career includes megahits like Dynasty, The Love Boat, The Mod Squad and Charlie's Angels) whose company produces the show.

Not exactly known for his small-screen depictions of teenagers, Spelling came to the show after Star had sold his pilot to Fox. "Fox called and said, 'Would you like to do a high school show?' and I said, 'Not particularly," Spelling recalls. "I said that I don't know how to do Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Parker Lewis Can't Lose. They said, 'No, no, we'd like to do a show in Beverly Hills, with strangers from a foreign land like Minnesota coming to it.' I said, 'That's intriguing.' I really got excited." (Later, Spelling's 18-year-old daughter, Tori, auditioned behind her father's back and was cast in a supporting role.)

DESPITE THE STRONG CREATIVE TEAM, Fox obviously didn't know what it had: 90210 debuted in the fall of 1990 with no fanfare, no hype, no colossal marketing schemes and no ratings. Although many of the cast members had worked in television before ─ Priestley in the sitcom Sister Kate, Doherty in the series Our House, Perry in the daytime soap Loving ─ certainly none had much name recognition with the viewing public. By December, the show was slogging along in the bowels of the ratings, while its cast and crew grew increasingly frustrated. "We were so marginal for so long," says Charles Rosin. "We went into the [Fox] network and said, 'Listen, unless you start promoting us, no one's going to know we're here.'

Fox agreed and went into promotional overdrive, with immediate results: The ratings began to rise once teen America got a look at Priestley and his young cohorts. (Incidentally, most of the cast won't reveal their real ages ─ they are rumored to be well into their 20s ─ for fear that it will ruin the illusion of them as high school students.) By the end of February, the show was in the Number Two position behind Cheers for its time slot; by April, Priestley was being hailed as the new teen heartthrob; and by the season's end in May, Perry was being hailed as the newer teen heartthrob, and 90210 was approaching the Nielsen Top 40.

  Then Fox unveiled a revolutionary strategy: Instead of the normal three-month hiatus, 90210 would go back to work and prepare seven new episodes to air during the summer, in addition to the standard twenty-three episodes for the regular season. "Thirty shows!" says Spelling. "It's a gamble, but I'll tell you, they've got guts.' (And smarts: The first summer episode rocketed the series into the Top 20.) Like Fox's previous youth smash, 21 Jump Street, 90210's success could be attributed to its gorgeous cast, hot topics and sympathetic characters. Then again, the most important ingredient may be the series' uncondescending view of the problems of preadulthood. As Darren Star notes, "Teenagers take themselves very seriously and really see their lives in terms of high dramatics, and I think the show represents that very well." Jessica Klein agrees: "The show is very honest, and the characters don't always do the right thing, which is, I think, terrific."

Around the set, happiness make that rampant, untethered giddiness ─ is the primary mode for most of the cast and crew. Call it climbing ratings, but the atmosphere on 90210 is phenomenally joyous. The actors joke and giggle with one another between takes; everybody walks around hugging and kissing each other; and director Braverman never once raises his voice. With the actors' spirits still high at ten o'clock on a Friday night, Braverman quips, "All right, guys, tense up!" as if all this relaxed fun is starting to get to him.

Mixed with the cast members' obvious enthusiasm, however, is a feeling of nervous edginess, an anxiety that the show's massive popularity might interfere with a formula that has worked up until now. "We're at a time that could really make or break the show," says Gabrielle Carteris, who plays school newspaper editor Andrea Zuckerman. "I think everybody thinks that we've made it, because we're in our second season and there's so much response. And it's exciting and it's scary because it's new for all of us." "When you have a lot of hype around a show, it puts a lot of pressure on," adds James Eckhouse. "I just hope this show will be allowed to have its own life." Not everyone on the show has such a philosophical outlook. After the first four weeks of shooting, during which the press was present nearly every day, Priestley demanded that the set be cleared while he was working and refused to do any more interviews with other cast members present. Some actors with secondary roles were squabbling over receiving inadequate press coverage. By mid-June, Jennie Garth, who plays Kelly Taylor, was showing signs of stress and, after almost collapsing on the set, was taken to the hospital (and quickly released).

In other words, the cast is being forced to deal with the consequences of their own popularity. And while most of the pressures are external, there does seem to be one internal source of tension on the set.

SHANNEN DOHERTY STANDS AT THE front of a classroom, looking anxious. She wears one of her trademark Brenda Walsh outfits: chocolate-colored stretch top, tan chinos, black boots. Her brown hair lies perfectly across her back as if it were carved out of stone; her round, graceful features look brittle and pinched.

Even though it's a hot June afternoon, school's in session for the cast of 90210, and actors, crew and extras are crowded into an airless room in an abandoned hospital building in Encino. The plot line has several of the characters ─ Brenda (Doherty), Andrea (Carteris), Donna (Tori Spelling) and freshman David Silver (Brian Austin Green) enrolled in a summer drama class, and today's topic is Shakespeare. Sixteenth-century England, it would seem, is a long way from twentieth-century prime time.

"I f---ed up, Chuck," says Doherty slowly, tragically, to Braverman.

She has just fumbled her lines for the fifth time. She walks over to the script supervisor, studies the speech and returns to her mark. She runs through the speech again and sits down.

"Cut," says Braverman, putting his hand to his forehead. This time, Doherty has left off the final line of her speech. "Let's try it again."

But the actress remains seated, her head down. Carteris and Tori Spelling quickly cluster around, as if trying to console her. Abruptly, Doherty gets up and runs out of the room, crying. There is a long, dead silence. Spelling gives a nonplussed shrug. Around the 90210 set, Doherty ─ an acting veteran who's appeared in everything from Little House on the Prairie to the cult teen movie Heathers ─ is usually described as “difficult.” Her mood swings are becoming the stuff of set legend; by the end of this particular afternoon, after returning to the set and completing her scene, she is gamboling through the classroom like a child on her birthday, giggling with costar Spelling, hugging Braverman and sitting in his lap. Between scenes on other days, she shuts the door of her dressing room and blares death-rock at ear-searing volume. Even Aaron Spelling admits, "She does some strange things.'

Braverman, who is jokingly referred to as "Shannen's director," tends to indulge her: He gently coaxes and has huddled one-on-one discussions with the actress. "Shannen and I have become closer and closer on each show," he says. "She's a very strong-willed woman. She used to disagree with me more when I would make a suggestion. Now she listens to me and, more often than not, she'll take it. One of the things I've done with Shannen is try to soften her character and make her more vulnerable. I think it's because I'm really crazy about her, and I don't want her to be the bad girl of 90210."

Doherty pulls up at the studio the following day in great spirits. She climbs out of her black BMW holding a shopping bag. "My house was so cold this morning I live in Malibu," she later explains, flashing a friendly smile. "I bought clothes so I could bundle up."

She steps lightly into the hair and makeup trailer to prepare for that day's scenes. "It was the Shakespeare," she says confidently when asked about the preceding day's difficulties. "I always know my lines, I never ─ I was in front of a crowd performing something I wasn't very familiar with. I've read Shakespeare, but I've never actually performed it before. So it's all very new to me. I got hot in there and I just got very nervous and then I couldn't get it straight. Also, when I screw up I get really mad at myself. So it was like a whole emotional breakdown that happened."

Doherty's makeup girl begins massaging her face with an electronic appliance that makes a sound like a bug zapper. "It takes out all the bacteria that's in your skin," Doherty explains. "Anyway, Chuck is very understanding. When I did start having this breakdown, he didn't really pressure me and was just like, 'Take your time, go slow, don't worry about it.' She moves down to the hair chair, reflecting on the show's growing success. "I just hope that the popularity doesn't change us in any way. Because we all want to be popular, and we all want the show to really take off, because it is a really good show. Give us a couple of years and let us establish our audience, and I think we will easily be in the Top 20. So it's good; it's just you can't let it affect you. In some ways it does change, the popularity does change it, but you can't all of a sudden think you can go out and do anything you want because you're a little bit famous."

The hair stylist holds up a lock of Doherty's eyebrow-length bangs and asks if she can trim them. "No," says Doherty flatly. She scrutinizes her face in the mirror. "I'm flying out to be in a celebrity softball tournament this weekend. A whole bunch of guys ─ a whole bunch of athletes ─ are going to be there."

LUKE PERRY IS CRYING. HE LIES curled up and trembling on a couch in the beach cabana set, located in a dif- ferent wing of the vacant hospital build- ing. A single candle, placed next to an old- fashioned photo cube, flickers light onto his face; around him the crew is frozen motionless, and the room's thick, heavy silence is broken only by Perry's barely audible sobs. The scene being filmed has Dylan returning to the bungalow where he used to spend summers with his family as a child; seeing the place much as he remembered it, he's overcome by difficult memories, and as the camera creeps clos- er to Perry's face, his performance becomes more vulnerable. All his earlier bravado has vanished. "Cut," whispers Braverman, as if reluctant to break the mood. "One more time."

Priestley, on set waiting to shoot the fol- lowing scene, decides to crack a joke. "Luke, can you get this right?" he calls out. "I don't want to be here all day."

Perry walks towards him, wiping his eyes. "You're being so mysterious," teas- es Priestley, affecting a lisp. "It's all so covert and dark."

Obviously in no mood for antics, Perry manages to respond, "Gotta get sensitive when the camera gets in there."

Priestley seems to take nothing seri- ously except the exact moment of execu- tion; when he's on the set, he yuks it up, yet as soon as the camera rolls he's com- pletely focused and seems to get impa- tient if he can't nail his scenes in two or three takes. “With Jason it's very easy and cool almost all the time," says Braverman.

"Jason's been our quarterback, keeping everybody on an even keel," raves Aaron Spelling, who also offers an opinion on his star's popularity. "I think Jason is the date that every girl would like to have. He's very attractive, he's sensitive, and he seems safe. That's why we brought in Luke Perry, because we thought we need- ed a character who was a little more off- center, who has a little James Dean."

The ploy has worked, perhaps too well: In the second season, Dylan seems to be overshadowing Brandon, the show's Richie Cunningham-style nice guy and all-around do-gooder, as the character with the most interesting emotional situ- ations. (Even Priestley seems to recognize certain limitations in the role: "Brandon," he says with something close to a sneer. "What is there to say about Brandon?")

Perry's fan mail is now coming in at a rate of some 500 letters a week, and he's only recently begun to grapple with the reality of his growing popularity. Earlier in the summer, a low-key promotional appearance in a Seattle area mall turned into a riot when some 5,000 screaming fans showed up instead of the expected turnout of a couple hundred. (Perry had to be hustled out in a laundry hamper.)

After he finishes his scene, Perry walks outside into the parking lot and sits down for a cigarette. "This particular scene was about a kid who was neglected by his father," he says. "[In real life] my rela- tionship with my father was very strained, and that kind of gives me a lot to draw on. You can never escape your past as an actor, because you always have to keep churning it up. I find that real dangerous."

Perry takes a look around the lot. "I used to make parking lots," he says suddenly, as if the irony of his situation has just hit him. "We'd pour the asphalt, paint the lines, make the curb, paint the stencils. The only thing I know how to do besides act is phys- ical labor. I was a paver, I was a cook, I drove people around in their Mercedes, I worked in a video store, I sold shoes, I worked in a hotel, made a lot of beds myself." He takes a drag and shakes his head. "When I think of the alternatives... my alternatives are not pleasant."

Priestley emerges from the building and invites himself into the conversation. "We get along because we come from the same school," he says loudly, grabbing Perry's cigarette.

"We're very similar," agrees Perry with an abrupt change of mood. "Know what you're doing, don't let anyone tell you anything different, have fun, and when the time comes, do your job ─”

"The work is very serious, and other than that─”

"Nothing is!" finishes Perry, and the pair lapse into an extended bout of male bond- ing and locker-room humor, all the pres- sures, demands and realities of their fast careers once again banished from their young skulls, at least temporarily.

[evilyesman]

New thing I'm doing to introduce my many fallout OCs, basically an intro post for them 😋

This is Slug, I play as them in Fallout 76 but they could realistically be in any game :3 (just in the bg though, they're not a Sole Survivor or Vault Dwellers)

[ art by @houses-snowglobes ], Slug uses he/she/they pronouns

more info under the cut !!

Slug, despite their appearance, is not human. Not synth either; they are an alien from a different planet crashed landed on Earth in West Virginia around 2102; 25 years later than they were supposed to. His "true" form is something that more closely resembles a Lakelurk, but a cloaking device allows him to "blend in" with humans. The device has it's malfunctions however, instead of completely cloaking them into someone inconspicuous it gave them bright ginger hair, gangly limbs, unnaturally pale skin for how much she's outside, gills, an extra toe, etc. But it's fine guys nobody really gives a damn

They are full of joy, loves exploring old buildings and plan on exploring every inch of what used to be America. He enjoys Earth's flora and fauna and thinks amusement parks are like, the coolest thing ever. Because they arrived after the bombs dropped, the earth they arrived on was very different from what they expected but she still manages to see the whimsy in every corner

I personally ship them with Deacon, I have my reasons guys it makes sense trust me. Slug is very unapologetically themselves and very friendly, would pet a Deathclaw if they could.

Silly Facts:

- They are really fucking tall for no reason ?? 6'4" bruh

- Mirelurks don't seem to care that they're there most of the time, they just hang out with them like they were any other Mirelurk. Slug refuses to eat them for this reason

- They will eat people though ! People that are already dead ofc. It's actually not cannibalism ☝️🤓

- Similar to a ghoul, they are healed by rads. Chems also don't have their intended effect on them; Psycho makes her sleepy for example

- Extremely good sense of smell

- Joined up with the Atom Cats after travelling to the Commonwealth. At first they were like "you are NOT cool enough" but Slug has an uncanny ability to sniff out fusion cores so they let him join x

- Picked up a bit of an accent from their time in Appalachia

- Been around for about 100 years at this point, but their species doesn't age like humans do so they're about mid-30s mentally.

- High agility, perception and endurance, but low strength, charisma and luck.

[drasticemotions]

yall im saying fuck it n face revealing cause I still haven’t recovered from my photo op with jared and I just have to share it on a place where I know it’ll be appropriately respected and so I can finally yap about my full experience with j2

so hey dats me

I died dead

I refuse to believe that that is actually me in the photo cause what do you mean?? I was in jarpads arms??

He was so nice I was low-key losing my shit after meeting Jensen, we took the photo with him first (just a normal side hug with me and my sister on each side) and exiting that going straight in line for Jared. I was shaking there was a pause in the line for a bit and then Jensen just appeared next to me??? Walking past and I was just confused Pikachu looking back and forth across the room to my sister and back to Jensen, I didn’t have my phone on me and didn’t know what to do cause he just appeared (all he did was walk past but that’s enough for me).

Anyway I was very much shaking and was so nervous, I felt like I looked like a wreck and didn’t know how the photo was gonna go since ahbl12 was my first con, but guys I shit you not it became my turn and I stared right into this gorgeous man’s eyes said hi…I think I blacked out cause he had his arms slightly opened and I just walked into them, I genuinely don’t remember what happened I think my eyes started watering cause it was such a genuine hug and just looked at the camera and smiled.

I don’t think I could’ve ever asked for a better photo I’m so genuinely happy in that moment and life has been a lot as of late and it felt like that all disappeared, I don’t usually smile with my teeth showing anymore but it just appeared naturally, Jared is such a genuinely great guy and I’m so glad I leaped at the chance of getting the ticket and going.

He was so incredibly nice at the autographs too, Jensen as well but I could tell both of them were absolutely beat they looked so tired, Jensen is intimidating and I was rendered speechless when I got him to sign my Dean funko pop, I was also the only one in line everyone else at that point was waiting in Jared’s line so I felt extremely isolated and awkward 🫣 like what do I do what do I say. Jared I gained some of that courage back and went for it, I was able to thank him for just generally being amazing and how much meeting him meant for me, which I haven’t really told anyone it feels like one of those moments I just had to keep to myself. He put his hand on his heart and I didn’t wanna get in trouble for continuing on so I wished him a good night and left. I don’t know how I got through the day without crying (I am a very emotional person especially when it comes to my fandoms), I cried in the hotel room after lmao

It was really just the best day ever and I’d do it a million times over. I rightfully have that photo on fucking everything, I won’t shut up about this until the next con and even then I still won’t shut up about it. Just meeting the cast and doing something like this, I’ve wanted to do something not even relating to supernatural but just conventions themselves seem like some of the coolest things to be able to attend (America obviously having the better half of that spectrum over Australia but I’ll take what I can get).

I will hopefully be back next year to see Misha and Jensen, if my bank account doesn’t run away from me

[sarahsmi13s]

Meet The Kids

!! before continuing !! 

i highly highly highly suggest you read through the orginal story before reading this as it contains spoilers for the end of that!!

you can find the orignal story here --> Tell Them Universe Masterlist

thank you!!

Grayson Dallas Seresin

Birthday: May 28, 2006

Physical Description: brown hair, green eyes, ~6′1″-6′2″

Grayson was born after Jake and Y/N graduated high school. Like a week and a half later.

Jake is not Grayson biological father, but once Grayson bio-dad signed away his parental rights -- Jake adopted him. 

But Jake has raised Grayson to be the man he is, he is Gray’s dad.

While he has his moments like every teenager, Grayson is very respectful and tries to hold himself to a behavioral standard.

Grayson is a mama’s boy, there is no denying it and he has no shame in it. This boy loves his mama.

He’s protective of his family; especially his mom and little sister. He won’t hesitate to go toe-to-toe with a man that’s bigger than him to protect his family. 

He’ll even get between his parents if Jake is stepping out of line or there’s a tone in his voice Grayson doesn’t appreciate being directed at his mother.

Sports he plays include: baseball, basketball, and football

He wears the number 23, very proudly as that was the number his mom wore in high school.

He is a catcher and/or centerfielder in baseball, might play the occassional first base.

He’s a reciever on the football team.

In Texas, he was a point guard or a foward in basketball, but in California they have him as post or a forward.

Kennedy Hazel Seresin

Birthday: April 13, 2017

Physical Description: blonde hair, (e/c) eyes

Kennedy was acutally born while Jake was in the hospital because of a harsh landing after an ejection during training.

Jake was there for Y/N though, he was in a wheelchair at her bedside. He would be damned if he missed the birth of his little girl. 

Kennedy might be one of the sweetest little girls you’ll ever meet. She loves everyone. And while she is shy when it comes to meeting new adults, she will never hesitate to talk to another child. 

She’s a daddy’s girl, for sure. Her daddy is a superhero in her eyes.

She ADORES her big brother. Her big brother is the coolest guy there is. He also makes time for her and let’s her hang out with him -- even if his buddies are over. 

Despite the 10/11 year age gap, they’re extremely close.

Kennedy loves loves loves animals. She’s not afraid of them and will pick up any animal she can catch. Which is one of the reasons Jake calls her ‘Princess’, he swears she can talk to the animals and that’s why she’s so comfortable around them and vise versa.

Kennedy loves Marvel. Her favorite characters are Black Widow and Captain America. She loves Yelena Belova because she looks like her. Scarlet Witch is also on the list of favorites.

Kennedy and Grayson

these two may have a 10/11 year age gap, but they are as close as twins.

when grayson was 9, for Christmas he asked for a little brother or sister. he was really leaning towards a little brother so he could teach him how to play ball

and if we’re honest, when he found out the next Christmas that he was getting a little sister, he wasn’t too thrilled. 

but the moment kennedy was born, grayson was wrapped around her finger.

and as they got older, their relationship only got stronger.

grayson never tries to exclude her or leave her out just because his friends are over. and that helped to create an army that would protect kennedy with their life

kennedy and grayson watch movies, color, play games, go to the park; they pretty much do anything together

*******

i hope you enjoyed this little info piece

i just thought that it would be nice to have a little reference post for the kids and what they’re like and their relationship.

i do plan to write more fics for this universe, i have plans for a grayson piece so if you want know more about that my inbox is open for questions!!

tags <33: @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @emma8895eb @blackwidownat2814 @ireadthensuetheauthors @adaydreamaway08 @starkleila @mallerz @bananas1234 @mattheoschik @fogle97 @malindacath @pono-pura-vida @jstarr86 @djs8891​ 

thank you all for being here and i hope i didn’t miss anyone, i’m sorry if i did