#why is bro like yolked

[this1contradiction]

IM 😵‍💫😵‍💫🤤🥵

[austinsastrology8991]

> Astr0 H0uSE CHeAT ShEeET< How to hack your house system(s)

HOUSE 1 - this house is the basic bitch you. YOu present yourself this way, you appear this way, but it is the superficial you, and its good to remember this otherwise you can get lose in the image you have cultivated for yoself. but images are incrediblty powerful, and we all succumb to the belief that we are who we are, because others say we are. and well we are but we are much more. so yes you look ugly or pretty, but its got very little to do with your life, yes people get pretty privilege and others get ugly disadvantage, but you have so much more power than how others/ yourself perceive you. HOUSE 2 - this house is where you find stability, its how you structure your life, also how your body be doin. This house is where you protect yourself what you like to built from and upon. Use this house as a form of stability, if your life is unstable this house is a big apart of why. also you want to make some money? or develop some self esteem? look here planets here are huge part of how this can be achievable. also its a grower not a shower so treat these planets with care and thatll like turn them on or something idk HOUSE 3 - this is whst you research or what you love to learn, what you know well but are always sippin the tea of information, the elixir or knowledge or suckin the apple juice or whatever bullshit analogy you believe in, this is what you understand so well, but are lowkjey insecure because you think you should know more given how much researcgh youve done, but reality is you done so much work in comparison to most others youll be fine just chill those nerves take a xanny bro. but dont forget what you know just because someone introduced a new idea to your head, always incorporate new information and filter out the parts that dont serve. thats how you maximise intelligence, get reading, and get writing, you cant just do one, your limiting your brain.

HOUSE 4 - This is actually the real you, the you to the core. This is how you were raised and that can be hard to hear but its true. LOok everyones childhood was kinda fucky, and thats why everyones a fucky fucker, so stop hiding the real you let it out, the more you repress this the more it shows how insecure you are, stop hiding or somoene will break downt those walls whether you like it or not. so you may as well be the one in charge of your own vulnerability, than giving someone else the gift of being the one to crack you open like some kinda egg. but dont show this part of you too much otherwise you scrambled your own eggs, and your ruining ya yolk. so balance goes a long way. too many people hide, and too many people are whiners. some figured it out, but the ones that do cant be bothered being a daddy. you shouldve grown up by now so get goin. HOUSE 5 - this is where you thrive, your talents, your shining light from jesus's holy bleeding nipples. Lawd thank you for your beautiful lamb and letting us torture him amen. okay sorry for ruining your favourte shrine. well anyway this is the house of creativity, and where you shine and become a beacon of hope; pretty special stuff if you got a planet here. but temper yourself because the more you shine the more energy you attracting, so jsut make sure you can fit all that food in yo mouth. also this is where you find fun and enjoyment outta life. stop acting like you dont like the attention HOUSE 6 - this is where you get shit done, where you find results. also how life throws some bullshit at you, because it wants you to figure it out, this is your job. your job isnt real, but the planets here are your fr job. also anything here affects your health, because once again its what life throws at you, and if life throwing something at yo body, your body gonna obsorb that shit into a wound, and now guess what your not gonna rely on your doctor to figure out an illness that could result in your death, so now your doing your doctors job too. hey but dont freak out, calm them nerves down. because the more you exacerbate the bigger the problem is in your mind, and the body still broken lol. figure it out, dont stress otherwise your truly fucked.

HOUSE 7 - your projections in the world, what you want to be but aint, but to others they think you are this. but its because your so full of shit you just chucked this energy onto the other person, and youve confused them so much now they believe this energy is you, but your just a retard that doesnt know how to communicate or relate to people properly. Also you attracted to people like this, and well they like you too, probably because you tried so hard to get their attention lmao, and everyone likes to be fawned over. HOUSE 8 - this is how you fuck people. and i mean that in every sense of the word. how you kill, how you eat the other, you do it using this house and what sits on its penis. nah but fr you gotta expect some fuck around when i talk about this house because this is legit how you take from others, and people are afraid of this energy because they are entranced. It for real feels liek your a big ass spider, wrapping up them bugs and yall just about to eat them. and when you think about it the spider wraps up their prey in their little web jizz and the bug can just smell it all over them, then they get eaten. perfect analogy dont even question me im a professional. HOUSE 9 - travelling the world to learn more and expand the mind. is what this about i guess. I mean this is meant to be the most expansive house because of its focus on travelling and discovery. anything here feels like its been around the world, and it now feels compelled to teach others what it learnt. but how hard is it to listen to a teacher. i mean most of the time people dont know how to educate each other without it being boring, so if you got planets here im telling you. no one gives a fuck unless you learn how to be interesting, i dont care what you know your patronizing me and you gotta learn what the audience wants, we know what you want, but now you have to compromise a little to help us learn.

HOUSE 10 - this is how your viewed, where people are inspired about you, and how your seen in career. so this is where you must learn mastery, otherwise youll look incredibly foolish, because you own this energy in the political sphere, you must learn to master it otherwise your looked at with very little respect. gaining respect is not as difficult or as easy as people seem to imagine. its a slow process which it usually comes from patience and perseverence. also the art of deduction. you need to learn when to put yourself foward and when to fall back. if you do too much of either your a fuckhead and people wont respect you. so if you want to be viewed highly (this is the house of how your viewed) then use discrepancy of the energies you have here. a leader knows when to strike, and when to chill out. as long as they win who gives a fuck.

HOUSE 11 -Social presence. whatever is here is how you affect the public/ people around you. whether your aware of it or not your very influential if you have something here. and whatever planet is present is how you influence others. so be more consciounse of how you impact those around you. because if your not aware youlll still get blamed for it, because you caused the butterfly effect of the chain reactions of fuckery. you can avoid all responsibility as much as you like, but the reality is, you can influnce people and you should do a better job otherwise incur the karma. HOUSE 12 - this is where you feel trapped. this is where your spiritually suffocated/ tested, whatever is here is being warped by the power of the unseen/ abilities of the mind. and if you misuse that (and most do) you'll be stuck in a cage of constant fear and bullshit. its not real whatever youve imagined. its as real as you make it. so to me if you just learn to manifest something more positive could be very helpful, especially since this is the manifestation house, if your not using it to create good manifestations well youll accidentally manifest accidents, and you'll blame everything but yourself but it literally was you. you cant blame anything else for your life because its your own.

[lowkeyrobin]

hey! (just wanna say I really love your writing and especially the ones on mental health)

could I ask for more of the reactions to an Australian accent, but with the cricket crew instead? (those who are okay with x reader ofc)

tysm!!! have a wonderful day!

ah omg thank you 🫶🫶🫶 I've been working really hard esp on those ones + the fact I've always kinda struggled w mental health stuff so I rlly pour my heart out into those ; and he's of course!! sorry if I misunderstood you on that last one by the way LMAO ; gonna keep this as a oneshot tho because it was way easier than a preference format for some reason ; also I wish we got more freddie, tommy, tubbo & ranboo pics while we could 😔🙏

HANDSOME BROS ; australian accent

summary ; youre the only aussie in a group of british kids (and an american)

warnings ; language, lots of ball jokes (sorry tommy)

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

Showing up for Tubbathon 2024 was a wild one.

Having your hand duct taped to Tommy's was also a whole thing in itself. At least you weren't working with Ranboo, who had no idea how to cook, unlike their poor partner Freddie. Recipe For Disaster was probably a horrible idea to join.

You and Tommy, Green Team, versus Ranboo and Freddie, Orange Team.

You'd never really talked on stream before. You either communicated through Minecraft signs or in-game chats. If you did speak, however, you'd often use a voice changer to make you seem a little more understandable, as you knew your accent was a bit difficult to understand sometimes.

You'd also met with your friends in real life before, of course, but you made sure the entire trip you strained your voice to sound a little more understandable.

But, now cooking with one of your long-time friends, the big guy TommyInnit himself, you didn't seem as worried or insecure when you spoke. I mean, you'd barely spoken, but you were in a comfortable environment - Tubbo's house - and were accompanied by friends you'd known for a long time now.

The stream had started and Tubbo had explained your rules, leaving the two groups to get to cooking.

"Hey, mate, can you hold the bowl while I stir the eggs?" You kindly ask Tommy, wriggling a whisk out of the jar between the stations.

The blonde blinks in silence, staring at you, "Your accent went 0 to 100 very quickly, Y/n/n" He giggles.

"Wait, what?" You glance about, feeling a little nervous as you plop the whisk into the measuring cup, needing to stir the eggs.

"Not in a bad way! Like, I never noticed your fuckin' accent was so, like, heavy before? You didn't sound like that last time we met up, or talked" He shrugs as he explains himself.

"Oh" You shrug, watching as he secures his free hand around the handle of the glass measuring cup. You begin to whisk the eggs, poking at the yolks to make it go a little bit faster. "I mean, I usually use a little voice changer to make me a little more understandable"

"Ohhhhh, wait, that makes sense" He nods, "Ow! Calm down, I'm not trying to get surgery on my wrist now!" He quickly pulls his hand away, feeling something pop.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

He bites his tongue, nodding as you reach for his hand. "I'm good"

You gently grab his wrist, quickly and lightly kneading the area for him.

Ranboo looks up, seeing you two distracted in your green aprons. "They're taking a massage therapy break already" they comment, tapping Freddie on the shoulder.

"C'mon, man up, Tommy! You'll be okay" Freddie lightly smiles, cracking a few eggs over the measuring cup, which they'd just struggled to find.

"Dude, I just had surgery on my crowned jewels, I don't think I will!"

"Good God, help me now" You chuckle

Ranboo and Freddie go silent for a moment before the boy with the red hair speaks up.

"You weren't kidding about the voice changer, were you?"

You shake your head no, "Why would I lie about that, mate?"

The two shrug, hearing Tubbo fake yell at them for cheating since they were conversing with you. The four of you jokingly plan a rebellion that you'd put into place for later, deciding to focus on the food right now.

"Tommy, Tommy, the plate, not the floor! If you drop that I'll actually kill you"

"It's on the damn plate!"

Tommy quickly sets the pan down to help you fold the guacamole together, using his one hand to hold the bowl while you rushingly mix it all up. From the avocados to the lemon juice, you got it to a nice consistency, and, with a struggle, get a dab of it on the paper plate you were given next to the burrito.

"I think he's gonna like it either way, considering most of what he eats, he orders." You shrug, setting the bowl of guacamole down.

Tommy lightly laughs, "Yeah, that's true"

You were finished before the timer, luckily, however, Freddie and Ranboo were still working, using each hand to do their own tasks to work a little faster.

"Tubbo, can you understand me with my accent this thick?" You shout into the other room, purposely making your voice and accent sound a bit thicker to try and mess wirh him.

It's silence until he answers, like he needed to translate your words. "Barely!"

You and Tommy laugh, chatting away while the other group works.

"What's Australia even like? Just like... giant spiders and kangaroos?"

"Holy shit"

"I'm serious! It's not like I'm going anytime soon"

"Well, it's not that. It's like the UK but much warmer, and yeah, kinda scarier. It's like a real-life Better Minecraft mod"

"You guys have armored skeletons attacking you??" Tommy laughs as he teases you.

"I hate you!" You laugh

"I love how you say 'you', it sounds so dumb"

"It sounds like how you Brits say it!" You smile, using your free hand to try and fight him in a playful manner.

"Dumb in a nice way! Dumb in a nice way!" He shouts, trying to use his free hand to protect himself from the cat fight. "They weren't lying when they said you Aussies fight like wild animals, what's next, you gonna kick the shit out of me?" He asks, egging you on.

"I'm gonna kick you in the crown jewels if you don't shut up!" You joke, making him scream in terror, probably killing the viewers' ears as well.

He yelps, falling back as he drags you down with him, having slipped on himself.

"Tommy!"

"Ow!"

"Jesus Christ, they've broken each other's backs off that floor, I heard it" Freddie lightly laughs, holding the paper plate up for Ranboo so they could put the food on it. "I think Y/n's dead"

"Tubbo! We need the ambulance!" Ranboo laughs, "Get Eryn back here, they actually can't get up! The tied hands have impaired them tremendously"

"Tommy, just stand up!"

"My balls hurt!"

"Then let me stand up, I can't when you're holding your dick together!"

Eryn quickly rushes over, helping the both of you stand up slash getting Tommy to release his tied hand from his crotch. You help him up and pat him on the shoulder with your free hand as Tubbo wraps up the time.

In the end, your groups nearly tied, you and Tommy one point behind Freddie and Ranboo. Honestly, they did deserve the win.

"I still can't believe you fooled us with the voice changer, even changing your voice in real life. I swear, you sound totally different," Freddie lightly chuckles, freeing himself from the apron.

"In a good way, though" Ranboo adds, "Your accent is really fucking cool, trust me"

You lightly smile, freeing yourself from Tommy's sweaty hands. "Thanks- ow, holy shit!"

"You think that hurt?" The blonde teases, having ripped the rest of the duct tape of your hands.

"Piss off"

After the stream ended, Tubbo turned on some music while you guys cleaned up. He and Eryn were sorting out the lights, cameras, and microphone while the four of you cleaned up the kitchen. You decided to clean each other's messes, trying to make it a little more enjoyable, which none of you minded.

The music, picked my Tubbo himself, was an early 2000s hip hop mix, titled something like 'Greatest 2000s Hip Hop Hits' or something. And of course, Ranboo and Tommy were getting down to it, mostly leaving you and Freddie to do the cleaning while you laughed at them singing and dancing along.

Tommy was bouncing around, not focused on cleaning whatsoever as he tugs on your hand, wanting you to join in.

"Y/n, Freddie, cmon!"

"This isn't High School Musical, dude" You reply

"You deserve a break!" Ranboo shouts, pulling Freddie into whatever fucked up dance trapezoid you guys had going on.

You sigh and set down the cups you were washing and turn the water off. You spray the water from your hands on Freddie, starting a war as you join their little dance party.

Freddie gasps and smiles, throwing the little bit of water in the measuring cup at you in retaliation.

"Australian versus Brit! Who will win!?" Tommy shouts with a little laugh.

"Hopefully not the American"

You fake shudder and nod. "Yeah, I agree with that, Ranboo"

[overalls4all]

"Hey Parker!" shouted Landon, in his blue Key overalls.

"Oh hey Landon, Overalls for All!" replied Parker in his black Carhartt overalls, tugging on his straps.

"Overalls for All!" Landon dutifully echoed the salute. "Did you just get out of class? I was gonna get some lunch if you're free."

"Yeah, I just got out of my Obedience 201 lecture, so I'm pretty hungry. Prof had us marching in place for 30 minutes straight!" Parker said, acting out of breath.

"Wow, I heard Professor Kavanaugh was tough, but I bet it felt good to let go and obey like that," Landon said with a smile.

Parker ran a few steps ahead, turned to face his friend before striking a triumphant pose with both hands holding his overalls straps, "It felt amazing! It is the duty of all men to obey without question of hesitation!"

Landon laughed placing a hand on his bib. "That's what I love about you, man. You understand our proper roles under the new regime. We wear our overalls as as sign of respect for traditional masculinity. You respect the hierarchy."

Parker walked over and put his arm around Landon's shoulder. "Of course bro! We need to honor our great Leader. It's thanks to his wisdom and leadership that order has been achieved in our country. I'm so grateful he allows us to study to become better men!"

Landon smiled thinking about the Leader. "The Leader really is awesome. I still kick myself for not voting for him, but I am happy to live under his guidance now!"

"You'll get a chance to vote for him next election, even though he's running unopposed. He was smart to ban any opposition who threatens our new order."

"I don't get why anyone would oppose him anyway. Thanks to Overalls for All, we all get along now! All men are equal in our Leader's uniform. Now come on, let's get lunch! I want to make sure we catch the Leader's address on the telescreens in the dining hall."

The two pals went off arm in arm, caressing the yolk of each other's overalls. Landon and Parker had never been happier wearing overalls and being obedient, traditional men.

[dailylooneys]

Happy 118th Birthday Arthur Davis (1905 - 2000)

One of the most underrated cartoon directors at Warner Bros. own Termite Terrace.

Davis first started at WB as one of Frank Tashlin’s animators up until Tashlin left to pursue his direction in live-action films, then became Bob Clampett’s animator.

He is perhaps best known by fans today as, what I call, the “Second Bob Clampett” of Warner Bros. post-Clampett. Inheriting Clampett’s old unit, sharing many artistic similarities to Clampett’s famously rubbery and elastic directional style, however, Davis’s animation was significantly slightly watered-down, it was still rubbery, but bouncy and emphasized quite heavily on drybrush effects. 

Naturally, it was Davis who completed a few of Clampett’s cartoons after leaving the studio, such as “Bacall to Arms” (his directorial debut), “The Goofy Gophers” (Mac & Tosh’s first appearance) and “The Big Snooze” (written by Clampett himself). 

Interestingly, in an interview with Milton Gray, Davis himself admitted to not understanding Clampett’s humor. Davis was also insecure of the strength of the writing in his cartoons as he put more focus on the animation and gags if he feared the writing was mediocre (but that was NOT AT ALL the case).

Davis is noted for directing only ONE Bugs Bunny short, Bowery Bugs, as there was a rule that new directors were unable to touch the cartoon studios' biggest star until they have proven themselves worthy of directed a Bugs cartoon, which also explains why Frank Tashlin, also well, directed only TWO Bugs Bunny shorts (The Unruly Hare and Hare Remover), and why Davis did more one-shots than shorts with major characters (however, this rule didn’t seem to apply to McKimson whose first cartoon star WB’s second most popular star, Daffy Duck in Daffy Doodles).

Davis’s characteristics in his cartoons, when doing either one-shots or any of the established characters, was, again similar to Clampett, as well as Robert McKimson. Davis’s take on Bugs and Daffy were close to Clampett and early-to-mid 40s’ Jones, both being wacky screwballs at their best, while Davis’s Sylvester was drastically different from the more familiar Freleng Sylvester. Davis’s Sylvester was depicted as a dimwit with a simpleton voice in “Catch as Cats Can” and once portrayed Sylvester as silent and having a unnamed brother in “Doggone Cats”. 

Later on, because of budget cuts, Davis reluctantly produced his short in Cinecolor instead of Technicolor, which was already standard for theatrical Hollywood cartoons.

Sadly, after a total of 23 shorts (ending with “Bye, Bye, Bluebeared” and his film “A Ham in a Role” being done by Robert McKimson), Davis was no longer in the directors’ chair when WB decided to do, again, budget cuts at their cartoon studio. Friz Freleng offered Davis the opportunity to be his animator without the use of his distinctly energetic animation we’ve come to associate his and Clampett’s cartoons with as the budgets got tighter and tighter. As later into the early 1960s, Davis directed “Quackodile Tears“, which was only the slow beginning of WB cartoons dark ages, and the end of an era for Hollywood animation.

Afterwards, Davis was an animator at Walter Lantz Productions (famous for Woody Woodpecker, Andy Panda and Chilly Willy), continued his directional work at DePatie-Freleng Enterprise (famous for creating the Pink Panther), then at Hanna-Barbera (coincidentally was one of the directors for the first season of A Pup Named Scooby-Doo, which I’m sure he got a kick out of), continued to animate on later Looney Tunes-related projects like The Yolks on You and Daffy Flies North (1980). He retired afterwards in 1988 and died on May 9th, 2000.

Courtesy of Cartoon Research https://cartoonresearch.com/index.php/an-art-davis-scrapbook/

A drawing Davis did when he was getting a heart bypass surgery. Here, is a caricature of a nurse who the WB character fawn over in 1980.

Davis-directed shorts:

 Bacall to Arms (1946)

The Big Snooze (1946) 

 Mouse Menace (1946) 

The Goofy Gophers (1947) 

The Foxy Duckling (1947) 

Doggone Cats (1947) 

Mexican Joyride (1947) 

Catch as Cats Can (1947) 

Two Gophers from Texas (1948) 

What Makes Daffy Duck (1948) 

A Hick a Slick and a Chick (1948) 

Nothing but the Tooth (1948) 

Bone Sweet Bone (1948) 

The Rattled Rooster (1948)

Dough Ray Me-ow (1948)

The Pest That Came to Dinner (1948)

Odor of the Day (1948)

The Stupor Salesman (1948) 

Riff Raffy Daffy (1948) 

Holiday for Drumsticks (1949) 

Porky Chops (1949) 

Bowery Bugs (1949) 

Bye, Bye Bluebeard (1949) 

Quackodile Tears (1962)

[icharchivist]

I've got it, actually

So the Brofam is hanging out as usual when they see Yngwie with a lady on his arm and they wonder about how he does it, constantly pulling hot chicks. So they go and ask him about it and he tells them about how it's important to treat the woman you're with like the center of the world, make her feel like she's the only one. The woman is already swooning in his arms. But, Yngwie continues with a laugh, it doesn't hurt your chances to be a famous skyfarer. But the boys are skyfarers as well, so they should be fine

They ponder this for a bit, but figure just being members of a crew isn't really doing the trick, especially a crew so ripe with hunks and honeys and that's it, isn't it? They're just gonna ask the most popular guys they know about how they do it

Tomoi points out that Bubs is insanely popular, but the bros realize that there's no way in hell that they can manage to scale the tower of Babyl and ask the guy for advice. Besides, he's likely gonna tell them something to the effect of "The only thing that matters in this world is muscle; you either get strong or perish like an insect, spineless and weak". Tomoi is immediately sold, but Lowain is opposed to getting super macho and Elsam points out that it takes forever to get yolked. So back to square one

They ask the Dragon Knights, since those guys are popular, but they all basically tell them to just do what they think is right, stand up for their people and their ideals. They're very encouraging though. Even Percy

Then they hit up Sandalphon, because c'mon, but he's not super thrilled about being asked that and snarks that "it helps to have a job"

Lowain insists they ask Poseidon for his advice, since he's the hunkiest of hunks, but Poseidon isn't interested in chicks, so he's not thrilled

At the end of the day, the boys wind up in a café, none the wiser. Who else do they know who pulls mad chicks by the boatload?

And that's how they end up with Belial

They fantasize about copying his style, going full Malevolent Alter Ego, and having him around to coach them, but quickly realize that it doesn't help to be sluttily dressed in black leather and constantly spouting innuendo, that's only gonna get you slapped

Suddenly Belial leans in and points out that perhaps getting chicks isn't the problem so much as keeping chicks. The bros admit to not being confident in their skills and Belial, without missing a beat, offers to coach them on that, too. So why don't they get started by practicing kissing? With him? Right now? He promises to be gentle ~

That jolts the boys out of their fantasy because they're not entirely sure where that suggestion came from, who came up with it and what to make of it, so they sit in awkward silence for a few moments before changing the subject and talking about something else. Can't catch me, gay thoughts

Meanwhile a few rows down sits a man, sluttily dressed in black leather, grinning ominously into his ice cream soda

But hey, if they don't want his help, he's not gonna make them

And so the Brofam ends up learning an important lesson and yet nothing at all

I feel like i just got an event dropped in my inbox. Everything just flows together perfectly like an event what the hell

It's also extremely in character and likely, i love it. You're so right this is exactly how it would play out

Im wheezing so hard tho it really is perfect oh my god thank you

[sweetarethediscords]

“Fool Me Once” - Part 3

Pairing: Kacchako, Bakugou Katsuki/Uraraka Ochako

CW: Cheating, Underage Drinking

<- Previous Part | From the Beginning

~~~~~~~

“Jeez, Bakugou,” Frog Face croaked. “You don’t look so good.” 

Katsuki stabbed his chopsticks right through the heart of the egg yolk in his bowl and swirled its golden blood into his gohan.

“Are you sick or something?” Tsu added.

“Sick of fucking bullshit,” he grumbled under his breath, trying not to glare at Deku across the room. 

He was sitting with Tenya and Shoto and Ochako like it was just another bright and shiny UA day.

Tsu was about to join them too judging by the extra chocolate anpan balanced on an extra cup of tea made with cinnamon and honey just how Ochako liked it. 

Bitterly, Katsuki noted that Deku should be the one getting her breakfast. Especially if he liked her enough to keep dragging her along while going on museum dates with brainy blondes.

His breakfast turned tasteless in his mouth.

God how he wanted to think of anything else. 

“His bad mood’s my fault I think Tsu,” Eijirou said, stepping between them, shielding Tsu from the miasma of rage slowly oozing off of Katsuki. “Tetsu crashed at my place last night and we might have gotten a little rowdy watching old Schwarzenegger movies.” 

“Schwarzenegger?” she questioned.

“He’s this super manly Austrian bodybuilder turned American Actor turned American Governor.” Ei flexed his bicep. “You should see his guns. The man’s an inspiration!”

“How does being muscly qualify someone to be a politician?” 

Ei shrugged. “Don’t know. America’s weird like that.”

“I guess.” Tsu walked off to join the rest of her happily ignorant crew.

Katsuki hoped Eijirou would follow suit and leave him to stew in his misery, but the redhead was not so easily shaken.

“Bro,” he said as he sat down, “I don’t want to tell you how to feel your feelings. But you gotta at least come up with some sort of excuse or else you’re gonna start raising suspicion.”

“Maybe I want to raise suspicion,” he snipped, stabbing at his breakfast. “Maybe if people were a little more suspicious around her, people would get away with window shopping girls like their trying to pick a new pair of stupidly priced, stupidly big sneakers to wear on their stupidly freckled feet.”

“Kats, we went over this. It’s not like—”

“I know what it’s not like.” 

Katsuki grabbed some hot sauce and dumped it liberally over the rice. Maybe that would bring some taste back to it.

Eijirou sighed. “So what do you want to do?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. If it was about what I want to do, it’d already be done and I’d be arrested.” 

“Then what can I do to help?”

Katsuki huffed a laugh. “Make numb nuts over there fucking choose a chick.”

Eijirou stroked his chin in thought. “I don’t think I can make him but I could probably hype up one of the girl’s a lot. Question is who?”

“Who what?” Mina asked. 

The bubbly pink gossip also known as Eijirou’s girlfriend sat down beside the pair. Antennas and curls bouncing. Katsuki swore they gave her a super hearing quirk none of the knew about.

“Who Kats is going to be for Halloween!” Ei quickly lied. “He doesn’t have a costume yet.” 

“Oooo!” Mina squealed excitedly. “He could be our Subotai!”

“You’re what?” Katsuki growled.

“Ei’s going as Conan the Barbarian, I’m going as Valeria. I’ve still got enough fabric to whip up one more toga for ya if you want to be out trusty archer,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, bro! We’d have to find you a wig and stuff but I’d bet you’d look damn good in a handlebar mustache,” Ei added.

Katsuki shuddered at the thought, recalling the patchy handlebar ‘stache his dad had sported for way too long, insisting it would eventually grow into a beard. 

“And want to scratch my face off all night? No fucking thank you,” he said. “I ain’t going to the party anyway.”

“What? Why?” Mina asked.

“Because why the fuck would I want to be surrounded by a bunch of drunk, screaming idiots all night?”

“Because you’d be drunk too?” 

“Tch. And deal with feeling like fucking shit the next morning?” he washed the newly added heat of his breakfast down with his coffee. “No fucking thank you.”

Mina pouted and looked down at her breakfast forlorn. “Guess a certain brainiac will be disappointed then.” 

His coffee soured.

Mina peered up at him and smiled, clearly misreading his pursed expression.

“Gotcha there. Bet you’re thinking twice about going now that you know Miss Shield will be there,” she mocked. “Denki told me all about y’all’s little study dates. So cute!” 

“It wasn’t a date,” he grumbled. “I’m just helping her out with her apprenticeship project.”

“By flexing your muscles?” she tugged her earlobe playfully. “News travels fast around here.”

Not fast enough, Katsuki thought.

“Do you know who Mel’s going as for Halloween?” Ei asked 

“No clue,” she said. “Which means she might be open to doing a couples costume with someone.”

Katsuki chugged the rest of his coffee and stood. “I’m going for a run.”

“Awww come on Kat! There’s no need to be bashful!” Mina called after him as he walked away.

He flipped her off and headed outside to clear his head with the crisp morning air.

🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍

He had managed to avoid direct contact with all three of them for most of the day, thank god.

Did it mean he had to be an absolute jerk all day to do it? Sure. But honestly it felt good to be a— 

“Jerk,” Ochako smacked him in the back of the head, surprising him and jolting him to his feet.

“What the fuck?!”

Ochako released her quirk, letting herself down to the ground slowly. “I should be asking you the same thing! What the fuck crawled up your ass today?” 

“Nothing crawled up my ass,” he snapped back. “And how the fuck did you find me anyway?”

Barely anybody knew about his spot in the woods. Only Ei.

Had he told Ochako? Was he setting this up as an excuse for him to tell her what Deku was up to?

“I followed you!”

Oh. 

“You followed me? Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because you’ve been acting like a jerk all day, avoiding me *and* Melissa, then next thing I know you’re randomly stomping off into the woods,” she threw her arms up in the air. “I was worried!”

“About me in the woods?!” 

“About you in general! You only act this off and jerky when something’s really bothering you. So what’s up?”

Katsuki chewed the inside of his cheek.

“And don’t say ‘nothing’,” she added with a huff.

He couldn’t tell her outright.

But she would know if he lied. 

“I think Melissa’s seeing someone else,” he said. Not a lie.

Ochako’s eyes widened, the angry furrow in her brow softening a bit.

“No,” she said so shocked and softly, he would’ve found it comforting any other time.

But now it felt like a twist of a knife. 

“Oh no.” All the anger melted from her face. “You’re sure?”

Katsuki kept his eyes to the ground and tapped the toe of his shoe against it. “Pretty fucking sure.”

“Who is it? Someone from UA or—”

“Someone from her past, I think. So—”

“So you’re gonna win her back, right?” 

He ran his hand down his face and sighed. “Cheeks I don’t—”

“If it’s someone from her past, then they’re probably from the US, right?” she said. “Which means they’re all the way over there and you’re here. Looking hot, making her laugh, being there for her… you can’t give up!” 

“Look, it’s alright. I—”

“It’s not alright!” she insisted, stomping her foot for emphasis. “Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t give up! Not in the face of deadly villains and certainly not on winning the heart of a girl he likes!”

“Cheeks if she likes—” 

“If she liked this rando so fucking much she’d just be with him instead of flirting with you,” she huffed.

Katsuki ground his teeth subconsciously, cutting into the side of his cheek and drawing a bit of blood.

Her footsteps crunched across the leaves towards him. 

A pair of sparkling, kind, brown eyes blocked his view of the dying grass.

“What I’m saying is you still have a chance, Bakugou,” she smiled softly. “You’re here, they’re not. She won’t feel so lonely with you.”

“Tch. I don’t wanna be just a body to keep a bed warm.” 

“You won’t be,” she said. “It might start like that, sure. But over time she’ll see how wonderful you are and fall in love with you slowly, then all at once.” She took his hands in hers and ran the soft pads of her thumbs over his knuckles. “But it won’t happen unless you try.” 

The thought of winning Melissa back was far from his mind. He wanted to get even.

He wanted her to hurt just as much as he did, as much as Cheeks would if she ever found out.

Deku too. Fuck however innocent or love torn he was. The nerd had to choose.

He’d make him choose. 

His churning thoughts had a new target to focus on, the sparks of a plan already starting to smolder in his mind.

Ochako smiled. “There you are.”

“What?”

“There’s that Dynamight determination,” Ochako cheered. “You want to win now, don’t ya?” 

Katsuki smirked. “Yeah, Cheeks. I wanna win.” 

🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍

There were a lot of ways to win, but the right way to win was what his mind couldn’t settle on.

Threatening Deku to choose head on wouldn’t work. After the war he’d unfortunately (in this case) developed a spine. Fucker wouldn’t willingly hurt someone but Katsuki wouldn’t be surprised if he kept dragging his feet just to spite him. Or worst would tell Ochako that he’d pressured him to choose. Or worst worst, end things with Ochako super messily because he would be scared shitless and respond stupidly. 

Or he could end things with Melissa super messily. But something in his gut told him that wasn’t going to happen.

Deku was going to pick Melissa, he just needed the balls to do it without worrying about what their classmates might think.

He needed a challenge to do it. 

He needed to feel like he was going to lose her. Which was easier said than done when Melissa was into him enough to ask him on a date.

Katsuki groaned as he flopped back on his mattress, finding himself at another obstacle.

His phone pinged, a welcome distraction before he saw that it was a message from Melissa.

A selfie even. Her with her glasses hung low on her nose, wearing a dark curly wig.

Think I should go brunette? 😉

Shouldn’t you ask Deku that? he considered texting back. 

Was this part of her Halloween costume? Why would she—

At once, two voices echoed in his mind sparking inspiration.

The first belonging to a well meaning Alien Queen.

“…she might be open to doing a couples costume with someone…” 

The second belonging to a pair of kind brown eyes and plump rosy cheeks.

“…she won’t feel so lonely with you…”

Katsuki rose from his bed and opened his dorm door just a crack, listening, quickly picking up Deku’s high, breathy laugh trickling down the hall. 

Game night was tonight. Deku never missed a game night and was intense as hell the entire time.

God themselves could be texting him and he wouldn’t answer.

Katsuki’s phone pinged again, pulling him back towards his bed.

MS: What are you doing tonight?👀 

Katsuki smiled wickedly.

She *was* lonely. Deku’s attention was elsewhere so she put her attention elsewhere.

Not a healthy coping mechanism by any means but one that could be exploited.

BK: Checking out this new cute brunette that just texted me. 

BK: Still waiting to see her in that white wig and blue skimpy outfit though.

MS: 🤔🤔🤔 I’ll think about it. Would need to find a cunning linguist to sell the costume though.

Katsuki cracked his knuckles and leaned back on his pillows, readying himself for spiteful flirting. 

BK: I think I know a cunning linguist 👅 but what about the brunette? What does she need?

MS: A brawny, brainy explorer to help save me from an evil mummy.

So she was going as that librarian from The Mummy.

BK: Well, I definitely think I can help you out of those wraps. 

A picture followed, angled a little lower. The button up blouse she was wearing had opened up a bit, exposing her cleavage and the crimson lace of her bra.

MS: These wraps? But I worked so hard on my Halloween costume. 🥺

Katsuki closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself, maintaining his focus. She was hot, no doubt about that.

He didn’t have the chance to give a witty response back before she texted:

What are you dressing up as?

Fuck.

He didn’t have an answer for that one. 

He looked around his room for something, anything to claim was a costume that would be enticing enough for her.

A shirtless pic was the obvious choice, but saying “a washboard” was too much of a douche reply for her. And he wasn’t a fucking cosplayer pulling props out his ass. 

His gaze fell on the pair of reading glasses resting on his nightstand. Ochako had dragged him out to get them after catching him squinting at their history textbook one study session.

She had picked out the style too, nerdy round shaped frames that she said looked good. 

Really they made him look like a dork.

And Melissa liked dorks so…

He whipped off his shirt, threw on his glasses then posed with his signature scowl for a mirror selfie.

BK: The perfect blend of brains and brawn.

MS: 🥵🥵🥵

MS: Those glasses tho 🤔🤔🤔

BK: 🤔? 

The fuck was that emoji for?

MS: Those glasses look familiar. More like a cunning linguist than just some brains and brawn.

Katsuki looked at himself in the mirror. They looked familiar? Did Deku fucking wear glasses too or some shit? Or…

He smiled wickedly. 

BK: Dunno. Guess you’ll have to wait til the Halloween party to find out.

Katsuki didn’t give two shits what she texted back, he was too busy searching up the perfect picture and knocking on Eijirou’s door.

Mina answered, just as he expected.

“What’s up Bakubro?” 

Katsuki shoved his phone towards his face. “This.”

“What?”

“You said you’d help me with my Halloween costume. I need you to make me a sexy version of this motherfucker.”

Mina knit her brow and took the phone from him. “Really? I didn’t even know you knew this movie.” 

“I don’t, but Mel loves it.” He exchanged a knowing glance with Eijirou as he joined Mina at the door.

Ei raised a doubtful eyebrow. Katsuki smiled impishly for a moment before dropping back into a scowl as Mina looked up.

“Ohhhh. I’ve got an idea.” 

She handed the phone back to him, a smug grin on her face. “What do you think about that? I’ve got enough fabric and some leftover festival face paint we can use for it.”

He nodded. “I think she’s gonna love it.”

🔍🔍🔍🔍🔍

Mina took his costume idea and fucking ran with it. 

The other guys however.

“So run us through this plan of yours one more time,” Hanta said beside him, having made his way up next to him mid-run.

Shoto, Eijirou, Shoji, and Tetsu all fell in stride him, annoyingly crowding the track.

Katsuki rolled his eyes and snarled. 

“How many times do I have to fucking go through this?” I’m making Deku choose.”

“By helping Melissa feel less lonely at the Halloween party?” Hanta clarified. “That’s the part we’re hung up on.”

“The party’s gonna be packed with people,” Shoto said. “Why would she be lonely?” 

“And she’s got 2 guys competing for her heart,” Tetsu added. “That seems like a lot of attention coming her way.”

“I ain’t competing for anything of hers,” Katsuki snapped. “She’ll be lonely because Deku’s will be fucking busy saving face with Uraraka the whole night.” 

“Saving face?” Ei asked.

“Everyone knows he’s supposed to be seeing Uraraka, right? It’d be weird if they didn’t spend the Halloween party hanging out together. Which means Melissa’s gotta watch them spend the whole party hanging out together.” 

“She’ll be jealous,” Shoji noted.

“And drunk probably,” Katsuki added. “And surrounded by people she’s only sort of friends with. So when the guy she sends titty pics to whenever Deku’s busy walks in looking like her fantasy, I’m sure she’ll be giving me a lot of attention.” 

“Thus making Deku jealous,” Shoji concluded.

“Exactly.” Katsuki turned to Hanta. “Now 3M if all of a sudden IcyHot started flirting with another guy in front of you what would you do?”

Shoto frowned. “I would never.”

“It’s a hypothetical, Peppermint, calm down.” 

Hanta narrowed his eyes at Katsuki. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You’d cause a scene, wouldn’t ya?” Katsuki snickered.

“Not a scene but,” he glanced towards Shoto, “I’d handle it.”

His boyfriend blushed and Katsuki groaned in disgust.

“Anyway. What is Deku gonna do then?” 

“Handle it?” Shoto asked.

“Bingo.”

“But this all rides on Midoriya liking Melissa more that Uraraka,” Ei said. “And I’m not sure—”

“Ya don’t skip out on a date with the girl you like more to hang out with the girl you like less last minute,” he stated. “The moment he chose that museum date over pumpkin picking with Uraraka, who he likes more was clear. He just needs to fucking own up to it now.”

Their footfalls against the rubber track underscored their processing as they considered Katsuki’s argument.

“How can we help?” Shoji asked. 

“Keep Melissa and Deku from talking one on one with each other tonight, and make sure Deku and Uraraka stay together in Melissa’s line of sight as much as you can,” Katsuki instructed. “I’ll handle the rest.”

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Ei asked. 

“You worked real hard to get over you and Midoriya’s past bullshit. I don’t want you throwing that away over something like this.”

“Tch. I’m doing this because I fucking know the idiot doesn’t even realize what he’s doing is messed up,” he replied. Either way it goes him and I will be fine. I’ll still be fucking pissed at him for it. But I ain’t gonna beat the shit out of him or something over it.”

“Good,” Ei sighed in relief. “Last thing we need is another Aizawa lecture because of that.”

~~~~~~~

Next Part ->

[bh-writingdump]

Eggcellent Duo

A lil silly crack story

Two eggs lie in bed. One bearing mustachio in curlers sleeps while the other has hairnet over a pair of caterpillar thick eye bros shifts. Both tucked into a twin-size bed like two bugs in a rug.

The eyebrow one rolls over, his heated gaze penetrating even the deepest of sleep. “Eggbert?”

Eggbert pops out his mustache curlers, “yeah Jefferegg?”

“I know what we’re gonna do today.” Jefferegg smiles to Eggbert’s annoyance. His mustache twitches angrily at the early hour.

“Eggcellent.” Eggbert grumbles, falling back to sleep in Jefferegg’s arms.

*Several Hours Later*

Fields of grain wave in the wind. Grasshoppers reap the grain with their mighty scythes. Aside from smelling quite ripe, Eggbert struggles to find anything wrong with this serene scene. Eggbert casts his companion an unimpressed look. “I got up at an even number for this?”

“Wait for it.” Eggbert says with a conspiratorial grin, setting the poor mustachioed egg on edge.

The two waited on the edge of the road. The chatter of the crickets their only company while a human wind rolls over the hills. Condensation gathers on Eggbert’s shell. He attempts to wipe it away but his hankerchief quickly gets soaked.

Meanwhile, his companion sits, hands perched on his knees, ready for the chaos to unfold.

Compared to the last field, this one doesn’t take long at all. thunder claps in the endless blue sky. Out of it, appears a ginormous foot and leg. Not just any but a fleshy one that looks like a shaved rat. Its heel digs into the dry earth, bringing more grain to its demise. The grasshoppers chirp angrily, slicing at the demon creature’s skin. Milky white blood seeps between its wounds.

“Gogogo!” Jefferegg shouts, eyes a sparkling with excitement Eggbert only sees when disaster strikes.

“Alright alright.” Jefferegg lets Eggbert shove him down the hill. They roll far faster than grasshoppers can leap away. Easily reaching the foot just as electrostatic cling sends Jefferegg’s whole mustache on edge.

“DO IT! NOW!” Though Jefferegg doubts that Eggbert can hear him. Eggberet paints with reckless abandonment a crude rendering of himself penetrating the foot with a metal spike with the added bonus of a grasshopper defecating on said symbolic foot.

By the time the foot disappears bac into the sky, leaving a raining cloud of dirt, another dirt appears across the field.

“You’re turn! Your turn!” Eggbert shouts behind him as he runs off again.

Jefferegg trails behind at quick trot. His suspenders keep getting covered in wheat and bugs. Jefferegg tries to brush them off only to be grabbed in the face. “Brother Egg. This is your chance.”

“To do what?”

“Make your mark like Sibling Egg said. The Holy Yolk Commands It!” He forces Jefferegg to look at the disgusting abomination of an appendage.

“Make your mark. Make your mark!” Jefferegg charts grow louder and louder.

Jefferegg shoves him away. “Why isn’t your mark enough? You know I can’t draw.”

Eggburt’s eyes grow watery. “Brother Egg!”

“Don’t you start—”

“I thought—”

“NO!”

“—you-you’d scramble with me. Am I not good enough to scramble with?”

“You know very well that’s beside the point. You’re capable of doing this well enough on your own….”

At this point, Eggbert’s eyes flooded with tears, cascading down their cheeks. The sniffles turning in to choked sobs.

“No, no. you would—oh, no, Jeffers. This is hardly necessary, let me get that.” Jefferegg pulls out a clean handkerchief dabbing away the tears. Eggbert’s hands remain defiantly at his sides while he stares ahead at the foot. Tears still coming. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“But-but it’s your soul.”

“Casting out the Flesh won’t do me any good. You worry about you; I’ll worry about myself.” Eggbert does his best to clean Jefferegg up. Though, the stiffness doesn’t leaf nor the quiver that entered Jefferegg’s usually bouncy frame.

The mustachioed egg sighs, “Perhaps one time.”

Jefferegg’s eyes sparkle like a thousands grains of sugar. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Pulling him into a big hug. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“It’s just a mark.” Jefferegg mumbles. His shell turning a shade that should only be seen on a rare steak.

By the time the eggrrior reached said crime against nature, it had pulled the surrounding five feet of grain into the pit. Unlike the last one which remained still once making contact, this one has the disconcerting habit of turning its heel. Taking out a quil and parchment, Jefferegg writes a brief list of grievances ending with a “Murder will be afoot if you set foot on Hopper’s farm again.” Setting the paper between the useless digits.

“Make your mark, not tickle it.”

“Fine! Have it your way.” Jefferegg takes a nearby nail and hammers the paper into the foot with his shoe with a mighty THWACK!

All of a sudden, the foot shoots into the sky, crashing down, shooting up before finally leaving the wretched land for good. The force of it sends Jefferegg flying back into Eggbert. The two tumbling into a mound of dirt, staring at the sky as dirt continues to rain down like a spring thunder storm.

“I don’t think the foot liked that.”

Jefferegg corrects his mustache. “Then perhaps it’ll think twice next time.”

“What did you write?” Jefferegg helps Eggbert to his feet. “A treatise of war.”

Eggbert gasps, “Jeffers! Think of what Sunny Side Up would do? Would he threaten them?”

“Perhaps they’ll think twice before putting their filthy appendages there they don’t belong.”

Eggbert shakes their head. “Then who will we mark then?” He raises a bushy brow.

Jefferegg sighs, “We’re eggs, we’ll think of something.”

“So?”

Jefferegg takes his quill and scratches out a circle n hiss cheek. “Tada! I’ve made my mark.” He puts away his quill, “Can we go or is there another stampede today?”

“So you’re saying..” A predatory look engulfs Eggbert.

“It was a demonstration, not an invitation.” Jefferegg gives Eggbert a wide birth.

The egg cackles, “you wish,” before diving at him with a paint brush.

The two ran the whole way home marking each other.

[castle-dominion]

c1x8 ghosts I've watched a good amount of these!

Why was she submerged & then let out air & then she floated? Makes no sense.

Castle poker night; Espt dealing; Martha wanting to continue; "the working stiff" & then all the real cops laugh; Espt calling her "mrs R" <3; "Well, frankly, I prefer strip because even when you lose, you win." MARTHA (their faces XD); this entire scene is good. I love all their faces & the music playing & just everything here. KB: Man up, "bro" Martha! Shut up! The music I love the interactions between all of them. I think this is why I liked this scene, we get to see them as People. KR: Murder never sleeps, Ms. R. JE: Yeah, and neither do we. watching this entire scene again bc it's so adorable.

Motor oil is clear before it is used tho... in one-gallon jugs??? That sucks, lots of work.

KB: What about tonight? Anyone strange coming in or going out? Clerk: *shakes head* Jasmine, a deep voiced, bearded individual with long blonde hair, high heels, & a short skirt: Hey, Bill. Clerk/Bill: Jasmine. How's it hanging? RC: I think you just described half their clientele. lol I love the transcript, it calls Jasmine "tranny hooker" & tbh I wouldn't have it any other way. (Tho at the time the livejournal was written I don't think it was meant in a positive way.)

Castle, you move past the girlfriend no later than page 50. Love a good notebook.

Or so u think. Having seen this I know she had a LOT of secrets.

Ryan just making castle a coffee uwu, point for the rystle fans. There was an easier way of saying that espt. KR: Maybe Castle was right. Maybe this is about sex. JE: The lady was a soccer mom. RC: Come by my daughter's school at about 3:30. The place is like happy hour. (Ryan & castle share a look & ryan points at his nose) Their physicality, The nodding, the hands, the head shaking, the cocking & tilting, the turning, all of it.

Ah yes, grab a dead baby's ssn. Just like the first lesbian who got married in ireland. She was straight but legally married the man's dead sister.

MR: Kate Beckett is not some bimbo who needs big, strong you to look out for her. She's a real woman. And a real woman does not want to be patronized. AC: She's right, Dad. I love how he has these two beautiful women with him.

Ooh true crime. Neat.

Lol death over easy & the diner in the background. Did u want those yolks murdered? XD I'm (not) funny

RC: Yeah. Captain, the mayor, and Judge Markway. You know. Your boss. Your boss's boss, and the guy that signs your warrants.

Whose house is this? Lee Wax? the door is just open? sus. ngl I HATE stripes on a screen. Lol the shock at her being a woman. "I am the cops" Your publisher is so right. Murdered??? RC: Well, given your unhealthy obsession for her, I'm going to take a wild stab at you.

Oh yeah, Not a bad idea. RC: But you did anyway. LW: RC: Any true crime writer worth their salt is gonna check her story with other sources. KB: What for? LW: My book. RC: Whoa. You're gonna go through with it? But Cynthia's dead. LW: Correction. Cynthia was murdered. Which means her memoir just became a true crime story, Which is kind of my forte. You'd be doing me a huge favor. KB: You know, I-- I would love to, but I have a whole list of writers who are hanging around, looking for favors. So, thank you very much, though, for cooperating. And, um, catch you on the dark side. These two could totally have a fun night together & as another writer castle def feels for her.

Poor pike, talking to the family & prying up the past, for a book? for HER? I like adam. I like him a lot. Poor boy.

RC: It is a good story. It's a great story. Personally, I would just write a happier ending for that family.

At least he has a job. So you KNEW cynthia was writing the book? I like Swanstorm.

Ooh stories not matching up. She WAS writing for sympathy. Creativity is doing stuff, art is knowing what to keep.

KB: You talked to the publisher? RC: I am somewhat known in those circles????

Noooo not adam pike! AP: Because I wanted to look her in the eye. I wanted to tell her none of it mattered. Her blood money wouldn't buy our forgiveness.

Ah, they knew cynthia was alive, the money was coming.

Oh a random stranger. Pointing the finger to some rando. Wow castle lmao thru the glass.

Writer battle huh. If she was trying to get sympathy she would have told wax abt the money.

RC: Remind me if I ever decide to write a memoir, to never write a memoir.

They have a corkboard today not a whiteboard...?

Love the poker night. Castle is just... friends with these guys. Ooh it's their rematch. Judge: Oh, do us a favor, Detective. Beat his pants off. RC: Yes, please. Beat my pants off, if you dare. RM: Beckett, do me proud. Judge: To hell with "proud." Make him cry like a little girl. He said to call him bob. Castle is so... obnoxious. "Who's a good little boy? Who's a good little boy? You are. And you are. And you are." Judge: Don't you ever get tired of winning, Castle? Castle: Yeah, you'd think so, right? But no.

Yay all of them getting fancy coffees. Esposito has his coffee, & ryan made coffee for himself & castle, & beckett is getting her own coffee. It makes me think that ryan actually knows castle's coffee order. He's made esposito's before (or he does later in the series) & there was that time castle & beckett had their coffees but espt & ryan stole them & took a sip & then switched bc someone likes their coffee like the other. Castle gave beckett's coffee to ryan I think so beckett & ryan like the same coffee, but castle has also drank beckett's coffee before so maybe his order & beckett's are similar enough... idk bro. Do I care? Not actually that much. I just wish someone would watch thru the entire show, take note of all the coffee, & then present me with the facts & conclusion.

Wow they have houses? Thought they were living in NY. You did what you had to do to survive & that's ok! I have a friend from pennsylvania.

Didn't recognize her until castle said 20 years later & possibly scarred. Mail order to new york. I love the audio. I first watched this while recovering from a bad sunburn lol. I like her! She really is confessing everything. Tho Mary/Susan could be lying too ig. Suicide in the oil thing? really? Who is that dramatic? Audio <3 Part manslaughter, part self defense, part murder.

No rick, cynthia was the one who contacted wax. Altho ig you're theorizing well. r u two flirting or hating? Oh it is hate nvm. RC: Oh, and one more thing. One day, and one day not far from now, I'm gonna use this in a book. Weird vest she has there.

RC: Next time, I guess I'll just try that massage parlor on 2nd Avenue. BRUH

Just has a deck with him (was probs planning it tbh). I remember sneaking over to sit at the wrong lunchtable & playing cards with the 9th graders. I remember a story from my english teacher, she ran a poker ring gambling for who got to sit at the table. Lol mano a mujer hand to hand, (like head to head,) not man to man bro. Her gummy bears <3 it's probs what she has in the bowl on her desk. RC: Aside from my muscular arms? XD not funny (I say, having found it funny)

Aight that's it for now. TBH I'll probably watch an audio commentary version tonight instead of liveblogging bc I want to work out & it's hard to work out while you're trying constantly

[dgaftilwedie]

sorry guys im YAPPING again................. literally making a new tag for this i love doing surveys

yeah kinda i mean i struggle with derealization so half the time nothing feels real

like 4.5 maybe???

i actually have no idea

SCOOPS!!!!!!!!

cherry blossom :3

"damn i need to shower"

my rite here rite now merch :33 hehheheeh

bi, n i don't really identify with any gender?? idk nothing feels ME my gender is just unlabeled because 1) i don't know and 2) i don't really care yknow??

dark :3

watchinf a loz randomizer video with one of my brothers

18 has been pretty cool so far

one of my brothers (the loz brother)

you........... (i don't have one)

my family laptop just has like the default

Hot Bio Teacher

laude by gaerea

idk .......... whoever it js is NOT gonna be matt groening, that's fo sho

the person who taste tested the chili cheese fries flavored pringles and decided they tasted fine. they tasted like a tuna melt in the worst way possible. they had so much potential.

man idk ��

my boobs (sorry) (kinda) (not really)

i would probably look like my dad 😭 and i've had this very specific kinda weird fantasy where if i ever woke up with a dick, i would fuck a mcchicken. it came to me in a dream. and it's so far out there. i don't know why.

i was a cheerleader once does that count

CANNED FUCKING PEAS

grinder roll. cold cut with provolone cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. mayonnaise on the top. throw it in the oven. favorite sandwich ever.

im gonna save it to add it to my tattoo fund :3

LA, HERE I COME

those fucking hard mountain dews bro that's right up my alley

no one can come to the island except for me and whoever i choose bc it's gonna become a sanctuary for the local wildlife :3

i dontrknow what that means :3

Unpleasant Question that i do not know how to answer

Next Question Please

im moving to ny wildlife sanctuary from question 28

MY UNCLE DAVE DUDE i miss him so much. maybe i could get death to bring back my rat too.......... a little two for one deal in exchange a feally good sandeicj or something

guhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk

oh fer sure

yeah :(

yeah :3

i am NOT wearing socks

i like a lot of different kinds of music i will listen to pretty much anything as long as it sounds nice

sunsets :3 sunrises are kinda underwhelming most of the time

chocolate?????? maybe?????? i don't have milkshakes often

the jaguars 💪💪 (they're my dad's team)

i am COVERED

i graduated a month ago and as of rn............. i am freeloading (my parents do not care) (i love my parents)

i truly hate how i am constantly overthinking. i feel so unlikable and i tire myself out by being the way i am. i wish i was NORMAL i wish my brain worked like a normal person's brain instead of being so hyperactive and stupid

i would hope so

"are you still lame??"

kinda..........

lizard + bird......... then we'd have dragons

i've had way too many weird conversations i dontrknow what the weirdest one is

yeah :3 it's not something i like to brag about bc i had to learn gow to lie out of necessity

if im around people, i don't think i'd last 5 minutes. if im by myself i'd last forever.

the 2021 pixie cut

yeah :3

i can do a lot of accents im working on my irish one rn

i dislike toast i will only eat it if it's toasted in bacon greese and dipped in egg yolk

no bucks :3 they're an awesome currency that is worth zero dollars to you and all of your disappoint to me!!!!!!!!!!

SIX SPEED HOT PINK JEEP WRANGLER

i do a LOT of shit in the shower my imagination is most active then i talk to myself a lot

yeah :3 i hope they're cool aliens

nawwww not usually. i only read it if i get my hands on the newspaper

now that i think about it........... w is a really nice letter

DINOSAURS i can't believe that they were fucking real i wish we could bring them back......... i've always fantasized about having a pet ankylosaurus

cutie patooties :33 little creatures........ they're so tiny and so adorable i love them so much

survey 10💛

length: long

----------

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3. The person you would never want to meet?

4. What is your favorite word?

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

7. What shirt are you wearing?

8. What do you label yourself as?

9. Bright room or dark room?

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

12. Who told you they loved you last?

13. Your worst enemy?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

15. Do you like someone?

16. The last song you listened to?

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

29. What is your favorite expletive?

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

34. What was your last dream about?

35. Are you a good… [insert anything you’d like here]?

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

38. What is the color of your socks?

39. What type of music do you like?

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

43. Do you have any scars?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

46. Are you reliable?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

48. Do you hold grudges?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

51. Are you a good liar?

52. How long could you go without talking?

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

56. What do you like on your toast?

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

58. What would be you dream car?

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

64. What do you think about babies?

[sukifans]

aahhh I’m so excited I love your writing!!! your sokka “help me” fic is one of my favs ever I seriously think about it at least twice a week. in a similar vein, would you be able to combine prompts 10 & 12 for sokka x fem!reader? thank you!!! :)

SOKKA + “can i try that new chapstick? i wanna have a taste” + “i hadn’t noticed but my sweet, funny, goofy best friend is kind of hot, especially since they’ve been on this fitness kick”

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

“nastiest skank bitches” Group Message

loml: ladies, i need a girls night

loml: desperately

babygorl: god i’m down, this semester blows

fugly slut <3: i’m in!! always here for a girls night 🥰

loml: y/n??

you: gals. pals. as much as i would love to...

fugly slut <3: ughhhhhhhhh

babygorl: you better not be blowing us off for sokka again istg

you: 😅

loml: TRAITOR BITCH

fugly slut <3: HOES BEFORE BROS

babygorl: WHORE

you: bruh.mp3

you: he’s coming by after the gym to help me with my physics homework!!! I NEED THE HELP PLS I PROMISE ILL BE THERE NEXT TIME

babygorl: lying is a sin y/n

babygorl: sinner

loml: if sokka’s gonna b there maybe she’ll be sinning in........ other ways...... ahaha

loml: fuckboy_emoji.jpg

fugly slut <3: when you gonna tap that fr

you: NEVER LITERALLY NO EW

you: HE’S MY BEST FRIEND

you: UNLIKE YOU RATS

fugly slut <3: he do b kinda yummy tho liiiike 👀

you: STOP

loml: yeah he’s hot sorry queen

you: HE’S NOT HOT

babygorl: i almost hate to admit it but...

babygorl: his biceps 🥴

fugly slut <3 emphasized “his biceps 🥴”

loml loved “his biceps 🥴”

you: hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!

fugly slut <3 disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

babygorl disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

loml disliked “hey! i hate u guys! jsyk!”

babygorl: uh huh yeah sure

loml: yall hear sumn?

NEW MESSAGE from sokka :^)

“hey i’m omw up!”

you: whatever you guys suck

you: i gtg

fugly slut <3: AND YOU SWALLOW

babygorl: bye girly!! get that bestie dick!!

loml: save a car, ride an engineering major >:)

you: desgostang.jpg

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to you with a groan. Your friends really and truly could be such freaks about your relationship with Sokka—or lack thereof. They’d been especially adament ever since he started some stupid bet with Zuko about who could get the most “gains” by graduation, incited by Aang making the mistake of commenting on Zuko’s more pronounced muscle mass.

Idiots.

That’s what Sokka was. Your idiotic best friend, who was funny, and sweet, and intelligent. You loved him, of course, but not like that. And he was not hot.

Definitely not.

The pounding on your dorm door interrupted your musings before Sokka let himself in, dropping his gym bag on the floor and kicking off his slides. His hair was loose and still damp from his post-workout shower and he wore slim joggers with a loose muscle tee.

“Hey!” He smiled brightly when he spotted you sitting in your bed. “What’s up?”

“The usual.” You moved your legs out of the way so he could flop down onto your mattress. “How was the gym?”

Sokka groaned. “Cardio. I’m already sore.” He stretched his arms up to fold behind his head, pulling his muscles taut.

Hm. He does kind of have nice biceps...

You shook yourself internally. Thoughts like these had been creeping out of your subconscious for weeks now, no thanks to your rabid friends.

“My leg’s been killing me, though,” he continued, rubbing his opposite foot across the skin that covered that metal pins and plates holding his bones together after a nasty break in high school. The leg often still gave him problems, ranging from the dull ache he could ignore on the day-to-day, to throbbing pain that left him limping.

You frowned, looking away from his arms to meet his eyes. “You should probably rest up before you hurt yourself,” you said.

“I’ll be fine.” He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows. “Gotta catch up to Zuko, y’know.”

“Why? You’re already taller than him.”

“So? I wanna be more yolked, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “Buncha dumbasses.”

Sokka quirked an eyebrow. “You want this dumbass to help with your physics homework or not?”

“Haha,” you chuckled nervously, “just kidding, buddy! I meant Zuko and Aang. You—definitely not a dumbass. Nope.”

“That’s what I thought.” He shot you a smug look as he pushed up to sit cross-legged across from you on the bed. He held his hand out with a dramatic, world-weary sigh. “Alright, give it here.”

You opened your laptop to pull up the website that hosted your homework practice problems. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, grabbing a notebook and pen from your desk to work out the math as you handed over the computer. He paused before standing to retrieve his bag, plopping it on your desk chair so he could root through it and pull out his glasses case. You felt your cheeks warm a little when he set the frames on the bridge of his nose.

Fine—he was kinda cute. You could concede that without having to dig too deep into your somewhat jumbled feelings for your best friend.

But you would certainly not “tap that.”

Well...

No. You would not.

You watched his eyes flick over the screen as he tapped the pen against his chin, catching the cap between his teeth while he thought about the formulas he’d learned in a past semester. He nodded to himself and started scribbling out a diagram and the math to go with it. You found yourself a little mesmerized by the way he simply just knew what to do, confidently scratching away at the paper as easily as one might write the alphabet. Your eyes trailed from his long fingers and calloused hand sweeping over the page, up his toned arm (lingering on his bicep a little longer), and to his face. He chewed at the inside of his cheek in concentration, sometimes parting his lips to murmur the logic to himself.

For someone who often said a lot of stupid shit, he sure had a pretty mouth.

You considered what he might do if you snatched a fistful of his shirt and yanked him into a kiss. Would he shove you away and leave? Awkwardly but kindly reject you? Or, would he kiss you back—throw the work out of the way and grab your face to coax you in deeper? Maybe push you back onto the bed and—

“Okay, so basically—”

Jesus Christ, get a fucking grip.

“—from the problem and draw it out like this to apply the formula, yeah?”

Sokka looked to you expectantly and you blinked at him as your face burned. “Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

“C’mon, I know you hate physics but you gotta at least pay attention to me if you wanna pass,” he teased, shifting close enough that the sides of your bodies pressed together. Was it getting warmer in your room, or was it just your best friend?

He launched into the explanation again and you nodded along while internally willing the blood to leave your cheeks. Even as your thoughts ricocheted around inside your skull he managed to break it down in a way that somewhat made sense. He sat back and watched as you slowly worked through the next problem. You glanced up when you heard a soft pop to see him applying chapstick.

“Is that a new flavor?” you asked.

“Yeah, chocolate orange or something.” He held the tube out to you. “Wanna try?”

Fuck it.

Before your rationality could catch up you pressed a hand to his cheek to turn his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips only slotted together for a brief moment before you pulled back to stare wide-eyed at each other. You could feel the fire creeping from your cheeks down your neck, mirrored in the reddening of his tanned skin.

He blinked. You blinked.

The chapstick slipped from between his fingers. Rationality arrived late.

You bolted.

“Uh, see ya later!” you shouted as you threw the door open and rushed out of the room.

“Wait, (Y/N)—“

You didn’t stick around to hear the end of his desperate call. Even thought it was your dorm and you were barefoot you still raced down the hall, wincing at the sound of a door slamming behind you.

“(Y/N)!”

Damn that lanky bastard. You were booking it and he was already hot on your heels. You barreled into the door leading to the stairwell and almost made it down the first step when he grabbed you around the waist and yanked you back. Despite your struggles, the arm hooked across your middle was unyielding until he pushed you into the corner and crowded you against the wall, hands caging you in from either side. Your heart was racing and you weren’t sure if it was because of your escape attempt or that he was close enough you could smell his body wash and deodorant. It was almost enough to make your head spin.

“Sokka, I-I don’t know why—I’m sorry, please, I shouldn’t’ve—“

“(Y/N),” he said firmly and your mouth snapped shut. “Why did you run away?”

“Uh, I—well, um...” You shrunk down against the wall and swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance to respond.”

“Look—“ You paused and stared at him once you processed what he said. “What?”

He laughed, dropping one of his hands to brush against your cheek before threading into your hair to cup the base of your skull. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

With that he surged forwards and kissed you enthusiastically, making you gasp into his mouth. You balled your hands into the front of his shirt to keep yourself steady as you melted into him. His free hand pressed into your lower back to bring you in closer. His tongue slipped out to tease at your bottom lip and he chuckled when you had to quickly grab his shoulders as your knees almost buckled.

“Get that,” he murmured against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as the two of you gasped for air.

“Oh,” you breathed, “that.” You hummed happily when he kissed you again, his stubble scratching against your chin and under your palms when you cupped his face.

You both looked up when a stairwell door somewhere above you slammed open, followed by a group of jostling male voices. Sokka grinned when you glanced at him with wide eyes and shiny, swollen lips. You tried to hide behind him as the clamor bounded closer and closer. The group of guys rounded the next flight and gave shouts of recognition upon seeing you two standing against the wall.

“Sokka!”

“Hey, man!”

“Hey, guys,” Sokka said, holding his hand up in greeting.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, is that (Y/N)?”

“Nice, dude!”

“Ah, yeah...” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and you raised an eyebrow at his turned head. They all cheered and congratulated him, slapping his back as they passed and disappeared down the next set of stairs. When Sokka met your eyes again you cocked your head.

“Who were they?” you asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“Sokka.”

“My reputation precedes me, what can I say?”

“Mine doesn’t.”

“Well—“ he suddenly became very interested in the underside of the stairs above you “—my reputation may or may not involve talking about you. A lot, apparently.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t do it on purpose!” he interjected quickly, taking your hands in his. “It’s just—I dunno, I guess I think about you a lot, so...”

“Oh.”

“Fuck, okay, that sounded weird.” You laughed a little at his embarrassed floundering. “I just mean, like, things that remind me of you or, y’know, stories that involve you...” he trailed off, flushing at your amused smile. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Making fun of me!”

“I didn’t say anything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around his neck.

“You’re still laughing at me,” he whined, lips turning into a frown. His hands slipped back down to your waist.

“You’re cute.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Without preamble, he ducked down and hoisted you over his shoulder as you shrieked in protest. “Sokka! Put me down!”

“No can do, baby; we have unfinished business to attend to.” He said as he marched you back in the direction of your room.

“You’re gonna finish my physics homework?”

“Nope.”

Oh.

A/N: 2k words bc, again, i have no self control. thank you for the request!

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @blazedbakugou @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula @wooscottoncandyhair @chewymoustachio @ohno-caroline @sunflowerr-mami @1vitamin @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @u-4iia @nymeria-targaryen @tommy-braccoli @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @a-sloppy-bitch @nomin-rights @siriuslyslyslytherin @starryncn

SOKKA TAGS: @fiantomartell @avatarayeaye @zvkta @sher-lockedmarvel @grandmascottlang @captainshazamerica @yuesallura

[yoichichi]

Modern!au Jean Best Friend Headcannons

Modern!au Jean Kirschtein x bestfriend!reader

a/n: i want to be bestie’s with Jean so bad! I jus couldn’t stop thinking about it so please enjoy some headcannon’s of what I think it’d be like to be buddies with Jean! I might make a part 2 someday to add onto these cause I have so much more to say but I had to stop myself before I wrote a full fledged essay sdkjalkfjbajfb, let me know if you guys are interested! Or if you jus wanna come in my inbox and talk with me about Jean Kirstein, I’m always free to do that. Anyways, enjoy!

gif not mine, credit to owner

Ok, I had a dream about Jean being my bestie and I have not stopped thinking about it since then LMAO

Ok, so for starter’s, I truly believe he would be such a good friend like the type to be listening to you in a group conversation and encouraging you to go on when you feel like no one is paying attention

“I’m listening :)”

Or the type to stop next to you while you tie your shoe and wait and just keeps talking to you

VERY much big brother energy, like I feel like he’d have that sincerity that bestie Armin would have but he’d be a little more of the type to always be looking out for you and being a tad overprotective at times, but more on that later back to attentive Jean :)

This man is SO attentive it’s unreal

Bad day? Yeah he could tell before you mentioned it and he’s buying you your favorite snack and driving you around until you talk about it constantly giving you the 👀😗 look

Feeling lonely? You never get the chance

This man is CONSTANTLY blowing up your phone with notifications from snapchat, instagram, tiktok, and facebook messenger if he’s feeling particularly clingy - it’s usually just some strange sticker of a fucking koala or somethin like “hi :)”

SNAPCHAT

You guys don’t have “streaks” but you still have a streak from how often he’s snapchatting you

Most of the time it’s just a video of his face where he slowly zooms in cause he’s bored in class - the amont of snapchat’s you got from him where you can hear is Econ professor lecturing in the background is in the hundred’s at this point

The other times it’s usually Connie and Eren acting like absolute idiot’s while him and Armin are behind the camera like 😐 - they usually end with Armin sighing and stopping them from doing something probably a little illegal

INSTAGRAM

Ok you have a groupchat for studying purposes with all your buddies but if it’s specifically Jean messaging you it’s most likely cause Eren said something stupid and Jean needs someone to laugh with him (yes, you, Jean, Sasha, and Connie do have a separate groupchat where you bully Eren - but it’s with love so it’s ok)

TIKTOK

This man will send you a whole FYP but won’t let you open any of them until he’s with you, then y’all scroll through them together on one of your phones

the type to look at you when you’re on a tiktok he sent you that he thought was really funny to see your reaction

Sends you SO many “challenge” tiktoks that he’s adamant on doing with you

You know the one where someone puts their arm in between the other person’s legs and tries to lift them? He was persistent with that one

“I’m literally jacked c’mon you’ll be fine, I just want to know if I can do it. I mean I know I can, but, like, you know? Just c’mon.”

Yes you gave in, no you didn’t fall, yes Jean wouldn’t shut up about how “yolked” he was for the next 15 minutes

If you guys posted it people are definitely asking if you’re a couple and he just replies to every single one with “no” HE SEEMS SO INTENSE PLS

Ok you’re his best friend? Then you’re definitely close with his family. Like, two holidays every year type close.

You learned to drive when he did cause you’re his bestie and you guys should totally learn together (he was nervous and needed support ok)

PLAY FIGHTING

While I don’t necessarily see him as someone who would playfully bully too much, he is a fighter LMAO

And I’m talking like fucked up sibling fighting

It always starts off “fun” it’s totally a little passive aggressive and then someone smacks a little too hard or throws an elbow that wasn’t needed and next thing you know someone’s in a headlock

If he has you in a headlock he WILL try to tickle you until you borderline piss yourself - until he realizes said piss would get on him and then he’ll let you go like 😎 yeah. I won

If you have him in a headlock PLS take a snapchat if you can and send it to Mikasa

He will pout for like 10 minutes and then get over it when she replies with a black screen and “lol what a dork”

Once you guys are done fighting - cause SOMEONE takes it too far - you just go on your phones until someone peeks over and you’re both like lol hi :),,, are you hungry? I think I still have some pizza rolls :)

Endless hoodie supply from all the sleepovers and the following cold mornings

He is always buying new ones cause he just feels wrong asking for them back? Like, is that his brand new nike hoodie? Yes.

BUT you’re wearing it and clearly you need it if you didn’t bring a hoodie so fine, you can have it, he’ll just buy another one he’s a little bit of a rich boy it’s ok

Although he is wondering where tf his other 6 hoodies you stole went

Late night study sessions in your dorm buildings lounge area - it’s almost embarrassing how often an RA is waking the two of you up to go to your rooms instead of sleeping on the couch and floor

Jean ALWAYS brings an extra water bottle for you in case you forgot one

You’ve definitely stolen your fair share of notes from him - they’re just so easy to understand!

They’re not exactly pretty but they’re just naturally organized into subsections and all the keywords are underlined with a little definition in the margin - if he’s feeling a little spicy he might even add a glossary at the end of his notes asjnffna;irje

Sometime’s he gets too nervous to ask for a girls number and then when you convince him to do it he’s all stuttering and stumbling over his words but he still gets it and he’s convinced it’s ‘cause you’re his lucky charm - really it’s just cute to see Jean all huffy and his ears getting all red while he says some stupid pick up line that he’s immediately apologizing for and now he’s rambling and - oh the girl is shoving something into his hand

“Y/n!! Look!! I got her number!”

Yeah, see Jean acting all cocky for the rest of the day like he got it cause he was smooth and NOT cause he was an adorable flustered mess

He does not like giving out your number if anyone asks him LMAO

He’s just like ,,,,, and why couldn’t you ask them yourself? He just hates it LMAO cause you’re great and if this idiot can’t ask you yourself then they don’t deserve you, they should be CONFIDENT in his mind

BUT he does make it mandatory you tell him everything there is to know about ANY current crush, love interest, fling, anything

Not just cause he likes the gossip but cause he feels like he has to approve - there’s the big bro energy we were talking about

BULLYING EREN BULLYING EREN BULLYING EREN

PLS his favorite thing is to play games with Eren and you and whoever else cause you two will always gang up on Eren and he gets so mad and Jean finds it HILARIOUS

The three of you and Connie were all in the same Minecraft server once and you and Jean just could NOT stop making your dog’s attack Eren and blowing up his house

He was getting so heated and Jean and Connie were laughing so hard it sounded like their mics were blown

Eren had to pull his headset off and step away so he could take a 5-minute break cause he just couldn’t handle it - especially with the three of you dying at how mad he got

Let Eren spell something wrong in the group chat on Instagram or mispronounce a word,,, Jean is on him SO fast and you’re there right behind him - it’s becoming Jean’s favorite hobby and sometimes he says it’s his favorite part of being your best friend LMAO

———————

Ahhhh!! Bestie Jean, hand him over please 🤲🏼🤲🏼‼️‼️ i jus wanna bully eren with him so bad 😭 let me know what you guys think!! Or just come to chat :) love you guys!! And let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

-🐇out

taglist: @plutowrites

[hendrarry-ist]

Parental Units - Q.K.

Summary: You’ve heard Kun’s younger friend’s refer to your boyfriend as ‘dad’ before. But always in a joking way and usually to make fun of his age. But when Hendery slips up and calls you ‘mom’ it causes a tiny bit of panic to rise up in you.

Pairings: f!reader/kun

Genre: slice of life, fluff

Rating: pg13 for a poorly written makeout scene near the end and Hendery curses once, as a treat.

Word count: 1874

»»——⍟——««

*appearances of yangyang, renjun, xiaojun, hendery, f!oc

“Voila, breakfast is served,” You sing happily as you slide a plate of sizzling sausage links onto the table, stepping back to look at your handiwork. Compared to Asian breakfasts, you’ve come to realize that perhaps an ‘American’ breakfast might just be an artery-clog fest as you eye the fried eggs, sausage, toast, and stack of pancakes on the table. Either way you can’t find yourself to care so much, not when Kun pulls you down to sit beside him, planting a kiss on your cheek. The table erupts in a chorus of ‘eww’ and various gagging noises.

“Oh hush, you babies,” Kun retorts with a fond smile before asking Dejun to hand the sausage over, which the brunette does. But not before snagging a little more than half of them.

You smile fondly at the youngsters chowing down. It’s hard to think that just last year you were complaining to your friends that you were going to die single (surrounded by cats, probably) but here you are with a loving boyfriend, and his various pain-in-the-asses that you suppose are now yours as well.

“It sucks that Winwin and the rest left yesterday. It feels like there’s so much room here now,” Yangyang grumbles as he pushes his food around his plate.

“That’s why we invited Renjun and Hanna over,” You say the same time Hendery repeats out ‘the rest’.

“You know ‘the rest’ had names, right?”

Yangyang shrugs noncommittedly as he stabs into the egg yolk. “Yeah, but we all know Winwin was the best. Bet they won’t even like their last semester abroad,” Yangyang finishes with a particularly vicious bite of his toast. You shake your head at the youngest before diverting your gaze to Renjun as he shares a piece of toast with his girlfriend. Yangyang isn’t wrong though, with Winwin and ‘the rest’ as he aptly put it, gone for the upcoming semester, the apartment does feel a lot smaller. And technically, the only ones who live here are you and Kun, but you got so used to having the younger college students around that the absence of at least several bodies makes the place feel so much bigger.

“So, Hendery,” Hanna starts between a mouthful of fruit and innocent eye-smile, “I hear you’ve been spending some time with a girl.”

“Dejun!”

“What! Someone has to gossip since Ten isn’t here anymore,” Dejun finishes with a giant smile as he goes for another pancake. And despite how much you hate gossiping, you can’t help but lean a little closer, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you quirk an eyebrow in Hendery’s direction.

“A girl huh? Does our little Dery have a crush?”

Hendery scrunches his nose as he lets out a long, suffering sigh. “We literally just game together! It’s nothing – I just – god! Can’t we talk about Dejun’s actual crush!” The brunette’s face flushes a dangerous red and from your right you hear Kun snort out a laugh.

“Well, they do not wish to be known,” Dejun clicks his tongue as he smacks Hendery upside the head.

“‘They’ as in prefer not to elaborate or they as in preferred pronouns,” Renjun asks.

Dejun beams at the question and you can’t help the coo that escapes, causing both yours and his cheeks to heat up. “Preferred pronouns.”

Hendery hums as his usually pale complexion turns back to normal. “Hey, that’s cool. We respect all bitches and bros and non-binary hoes.”

“Hendery, don’t say bitches,” You hiss at the younger.

“What? It’s from an anime. I swear, scouts honor,” Hendery argues as he raises his hand but Yangyang just snorts and shakes his head.

“You were never in the scouts, bro.” He leans over and snags the last sausage before Hanna can, and good thing looks can’t kill because you’ve never meet someone so in love with food before.  “But I can vouch for him. It is from an anime. What a nerd,” Yangyang snickers, letting his guard down just enough for Renjun to reach over and steal his sausage before passing it to Hanna. “Seriously, the day Hendery gets a girlfriend is when hell freezes over.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean,” Hanna cuts in, “Hendery’s handsome. He’s just bad with words.”

“Right, so just never talk when you’re in a relationship,” Renjun tacks on with a smirk.

Sensing the teasings hitting a little too close to a sore spot, you chime in with the best parental frown you can. “Kids, kids, I think that’s enough. Now, I gotta get to work soon. Kun,” you lean over and peck your boyfriend’s lip, “don’t forget you have a dentist appointment today. Yangyang you’re on dish duty – do not argue with me I fed you – and Hendery,” you gaze lands softly on the fidgeting brunette, “we would love to be introduced to your new friend. Maybe Kun can cook up dinner and she can come over.”

Under the grumbling and weak protests, Hendery smiles. You don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next though.

“Thanks mom.”

Immediately, Hendery lets his head slam onto the table like a puppet being cut loose while Renjun and Yangyang howl in laughter. You’re used to the ‘kids’ calling Kun dad, but it’s all usually done in a teasing manner to make fun of his old age. However, them calling you mom is a new one. For Hendery’s sake though you just laugh awkwardly.

“Can I not do dishes, I sprained my wrist yesterday,” Yangyang complains, “and Dejun hasn’t done them in forever!”

Kun, bless his heart, butts in with a fond, “Hey now kids, listen to your mother.”

You glare at your boyfriend’s impish grin knowing he’s just having the time of his life. With a tight-lipped smile, you tell the younger students to have a good day before leaning down to kiss Kun on the cheek. Instead, you aim your lips by the shell of his ear and whisper ‘I am going to destroy you’ before placing a quick peck and then grabbing your purse and leaving.

Despite the way the words bounce in your brain throughout the day, the incident doesn’t come up again until a month later. Work does a good job with slamming you with projects and due-dates that are outrageous for anything that isn’t a machine that you just simply forget that Hendery called you his mom (sans the occasional nights where the incident replays in your brain, terrorizing you to no end). And of course, you would prefer it that way if Dejun wasn’t the one to call you that next.

You’re scrolling through Instagram idly, waiting in the parking lot of the vet clinic for Dejun to come back with his dog who had to get spade. Unfortunately, between you, Kun and his plethora of kids, only you and him know how to drive. Perhaps for the best, you’ve seen Yangyang play driving games and you’re legitimately terrified for when he gets his license. As you see a familiar mop of brown hair approaching your car, you open the passenger side and smile at the drowsy ball of fur in his arms.

“Thanks, mom, for driving me to pick her up, I would’ve walked but I know Bella would’ve been too tired for the trek back.” Dejun says with a soft smile. You watch in fascination through the car’s mirror as Dejun’s face slowly morphs to horror as he realizes what he just said as his mouth flounders open and close. “I - I mean y/n! Not mom. I already have a mom!” Dejun backtracks in a panic, eyes comically wide.

“Dejun it’s alright. Kun’s the dad and I’m...” you tilt your head in thought, “the mom. Um, no big deal.”

And god you hope Dejun believes you because once you get back to the apartment you practically flop onto an unsuspecting Kun.

“Do you know what Dejun called me today? Mom,” you burst out, rolling off of Kun’s back and onto the other side of the bed. “Is it because I’m old? Like god, I know they’re young and all but I never thought I was that old. But now that I think about it, I am two years older than you, and comparing that to Yangyang I’m almost a decade older than him and oh god,” you exhale, “I am old! I can’t party for long anymore, and we go to bed before eleven. I’m turning into my parents.” With a mournful cry, you roll your face into Kun’s side and lament for your lost youth.

“Okay, shh, there, there, drama queen. You aren’t old.” Kun gently envelops you into his arms as gentle fingers card through your hair. “You know the kids are just young and away from their family, some of them really far away. And you just have good motherly instincts – doesn't mean you’re old though. You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Kun finishes with a soft smile as he lifts your face up to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. Giggling, you sigh into the kiss and snuggle closer.

“And yet it still took you a whole two years of meeting before you asked me out.” You tease when you pull away.

“Yeah, don’t remind me. Ten would always tease me for having a crush on you,” Kun admits shyly, eyes looking at everything but you as his face steadily heats up.

“It is a shame we didn’t get together sooner. But I guess we’re both allowed to being young and dumb once.”

Kun hums as he gently places a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Kissing your forehead he says, “We’re still young. We’re not even thirty yet.” Kun leans down again to capture your lips, but instead of the gentle press the previous had, something hungrier lies in its wake. Yout let out a small moan as Kun rolls you onto your back, covering your body with his own as he presses you into the mattress. Hastily, you start unbuttoning his shirt but before you can even get to the third button, you hear the front door swing open and loud voices flood the apartment.

“Parental Units!” Hanna calls out and you try not to groan. Seems like that’s your new nickname now, great. “We don’t have any money for dinner!”

“Hey old man,” Hendery shouts join in, “my girlfriend’s coming over for dinner is that okay!”

“Why would he invite her over and then ask us if that’s okay,” Kun groans as he rolls over, any previous excitement for the night washed away with the sudden intrusion. “Why did we even give them the code to the apartment?”

“Because we’re their parents,” you reply with a soft but defeated grin before springing up out of bed, quickly petting down your hair and straightening your blouse. Looking down at a still pouting Kun though, you can’t help but feel a little pity. It’s immediately thrown out though because Hendery’s bringing his new girlfriend over and there is no way your boyfriend is ruining this for you. Smacking Kun’s butt, you chastise the brunette, “Now get out of bed mister. We have a bunch of pizza to order.”

Kun sighs.

“Yes dear.”

[soysaurus]

tachigin venom au. tachihara is venom, gin is eddie

omg bro this is such a cool idea. i love venom, i love tachigin, and i cant believe ive never thought of this au before i am a DISGRACE DKFGDKJ. ok but they would honestly be so funny. and tachihara would learn the terrible cooking thing from tetcho. but also like!! just them! at night! destroying the lives of terrible people and kicking absolute ass <3

"Tachihara, stop humming." Gin thinks about swatting her face—is this really her face though? Like, this is some tar-like alien encasing her features in the most horrifying set of living armour, so if she reaches up and swats her—his? Their?—nose, will she hurt herself in the process? And if she does, would it be worth it?

"Why?" Tachihara responds, voice sounding way too close but Gin has been getting used to the weird way he seems to talk as if he's whispering directly into her brain. The worst is at night, when she's asleep but not asleep. And all he wants to do is make burgers. "Humming is like, the best part of being human," he continues. "I love humming. Humming fucks. You should hum more, y'know? I like your voice. It's very silky. Like an egg yolk." And he begins humming again. It's Britney Spears. Gin would appreciate him if she hasn't had Toxic stuck in her mind for the last five hours. It's his fault. He seems to be at fault in a lot of things.

She sighs. "Can you just, focus? Please?" She steps over a stack of tumbled boxes. They're ruined. Their footsteps ruin them even more. A hanging lamp waves in the corner, an obvious sign of the fear they've instilled in the burglars they sniffed out. She's pretty sure one of them pissed themselves when they saw her rip off the head of their teammate. Friend. Maybe it was their lover...

"And I love what you do! Don't you know that you're toxi-i-i-c!"

"Shut up!" Gin hisses when Tachihara gives in to the inescapable urge to belt Britney Spears at the top of his lungs. "Focus!"

"I am focusing!" he argues back, but then goes back to singing Toxic with the wrong lyrics and the wrong tune and mumbled sections when he can't remember exactly how it goes because Atsushi played it once and only once.

Gin moves to slap him. Tachihara, like the bastard he is, slips away to reveal Gin's cheek at the exact moment her hand comes down. She yelps, he cackles, and she's about to scream at him when a shadow moves in the corner of their eye.

They grab him, like some tiny pathetic Ken doll in the hands of the gleeful Raquelle from that one Barbie Dreamhouse episode. The burglar screams, and then he goes squelch.

One of his shoes drop to the floor. It's the only thing left.

"I saw him first, by the way," Tachihara announces when Gin is just Gin again and Tachihara is the weird, annoying voice in her head, who's also an alien symbiote because she should have never broke into her brother's research lab, even if whenever they made eye contact, that was the only thing she could hear Ryuunosuke saying.

"No," Gin corrects. "I did."

"Yeah, no." Tachihara snorts. "I definitely saw him first."

Gin's about to slap Tachihara—herself—again. But stops. Because Tachihara is an asshole, and he's still cackling, and Gin can still taste the remnants of someone else's head in her mouth. It's weird. She thinks having an alien illness has messed up her senses.

"So, who should we eat next?" He's thinking about burgers. Gin can hear him thinking about burgers.

"We're not eating anybody," she presses.

All Tachihara does is hum, and then he's singing Britney Spears again, because there's the crash of glass smashing and someone is yelling around the corner. Tachihara's alien self floats in front of her, and Gin sighs. "I'm so hungry," he lets out.

It's too easy to let Tachihara turn Gin's grin toothy.

[stockholmdolly]

EASY PREY (BEWARE OF THE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD) 7

Pairings: Brock Rumlow x Bucky Barnes hahaha not really, just them being good bros

Warnings: None in this chapter, just Bucky and Rumlow being amazing  and hardworking human beings.

Word count: 2,746

Author’s note: Hello fanfiction world, it is me! Stockholm Dolly. Chapter 7, this is only centered in Bucky and Rumlow, they’re on a crusade to gather witnesses and evidence. Boyd makes an appearance. Happy reading...😈

CHAPTER 7/26

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES / BROCK RUMLOW

BROCK RUMLOW’S POV Endless weeks into our investigation, Barnes and I sat at a corner booth in the famed Lou Mitchell’s breakfast diner in Chicago’s West Loop. It was a late spring Wednesday, making the crowd a thick mixture of tourists in tracksuits and business persons in double-breasted power statements. My meal arrived on a hot porcelain plate: two over-medium eggs with a sheen of the butter they had fried in, white toast, home fries, and extra bacon. Barnes had the same, plus a stack of flapjacks and a side of ham. Of course, there was a large pot of coffee between us. I fell into the groove of cranky waitresses and busy patrons, all of them with their Midwestern attitude and twang, as though this morning were a nightclub and the work day or tour bus was not imminent, but only a pit stop on the way to a chicken-fried steak lunch and after-work beers with chicken wings. Pulsing in this rhythm, I allowed myself an inward grin at the thought of enjoying an outdoor cocktail on Rush Street. But then my cell phone rang.

- Hello, I said.

Barnes lifted her nose, which seemed embedded in his steaming pile of pancakes. “Hmm,” he said with his expression, as though he had answered my phone too.

The voice on the other end of the line caused me to leave the table and take the call on the sidewalk. Barnes kept eating, unexcited. When I returned, I caught him picking toast off my plate.

- Boyd called, I said. I loved dropping bombs like this on him.

He threw my toast on his plate and grabbed a napkin, which he’d already stained with his extra maple syrup and drippings of egg yolk. While wiping the outer rim of his lips hard and picking shards of ham out of his teeth with his tongue, he jabbed his fist at me. 

- Son of a damn bitch, Rumlow. I knew that shit-stinking farmer knew more. Didn’t I say that? Didn’t I tell you that?

He had not said this to me. He’d only complained of the smell of Boyd’s barn. Although, truth be told, I, too, thought Boyd knew more. I wish I could tell you I was surprised he called. But I’d been through this so many times before. People get nervous when they sit with the FBI in their kitchen. They worry about how they appear, how they sound, whether they are targets themselves. They think about past indiscretions of their own and wonder if my inquiry is a cover for some other investigation, closer to home. It is not until we are long gone a few days—sometimes months—when a buried memory or a subconscious observation surfaces. And then these benevolent witnesses resurrect my card or Barnes’s and they call. Usually their revelations are meaningless, worthless, or things we’d already uncovered. “Her car, it was definitely green, I remember clear as day now, Mr. Rumlow,” they might say, to which I’d think, Yup. A 1979, emerald, two-door Ford. We found it, with the bodies in the trunk, at the bottom of Lake Winnipesaukee last week. Thanks for the call.

So when I heard Boyd’s voice, I didn’t expect much. Boy, oh Boyd, was I wrong.

But before we get into Boyd’s ruby of an investigative gem, I should explain why Barnes and I found ourselves at a diner in Chicago. As you’ll recall, we had the fortune of falling into some lucrative videotapes at a gas station outside of South Bend, Indiana. We knew the day to watch and generally the time period: afternoon of the day Boyd sold his van, which happened to be his brother’s birthday and the reason Boyd left the same day to go to “Lou-C-Ana” for an extended visit.

There were three tapes for this day: one at the pumps, one above the cash register, and one over the bathrooms with exterior doors. We found Rogers, full face and frowning—but wide-smiling in one frame—on all three tapes. Jackpot. We tracked him as soon as we captured sight of the van at the pumps, where he stayed for two-and-a-half minutes, and followed him to the counter at the cash register, after losing him for about three minutes, during which time he acquired a pint of chocolate milk and a package of Ding-Dongs. At the register, he asked for a “pack of Marlboros,” which was easy to discern by way of his slow manner of speech and our trained eyes for lip-reading. Then he asked for “the key to the bathroom,” and our lovely gas station owner obliged. Another four minutes passed, he returned the key, and we caught him one last time back out at the pumps, checking the gas cap, entering the driver’s door, and driving away. 

All of these images were sent to Virginia for serious dissection, along with the lifted fingerprints from Boyd’s bathroom. At the end of the analysis, here’s what we wound up with: a man in his early 40s, blonde hair, tightly cut in the fashion of Caesar, tall, pupils so blue they looked like the sea. The profilers and anthropologists pegged him as Irish, but American-bred. Smoker, obviously, and fit. He had obviously military record. We measured him at 6’2” and between 200-220 pounds.

Our man was wearing a Lou Mitchell’s t-shirt. The analysts discovered that the color and style could have only been printed in the last year or two. I might not have been excited over the t-shirt if all I had to go on was the t-shirt; I’d probably have assumed he was just another tourist. But when he opened his wallet at the register, he made the mistake of laying it flat on the counter, and those sharp-eyed video-jockeys back at headquarters zeroed in on the one frame that said it all: 126:05:001 showed the very top of a frayed check on which several letters were visible above the inseam: L       CHELL’S. Despite zooming in so far we could pinpoint individual molecules in the wallet’s leather, we couldn’t find Rogers’s name.

Barnes and I hightailed to Chicago in search of anyone who might identify our self-righteous friend, America’s first avenger. Probably at this point you’re wondering, why we’re doing all this, when you guys already confirmed it’s Steve Rogers in the tapes, let’s not forget we’re dealing with the Avengers, and even if I don’t want to admit it, they are extremely intelligent and cautious, know how to hide evidence and they have Tony Stark on their side, so we needed as much witnesses and evidence as we could gather, everything that couldn’t be manipulated. 

We were waiting at Lou Mitchell’s on a man named Stan, the head chef, to finish the breakfast rush. We promised the new manager we wouldn’t make any inquiries of the waitresses during their shifts and while they were out on the floor. So we sat and ordered the aforementioned breakfast. The manager had explained after we showed him a picture of Rogers, “I started here last week. Your best bet is to talk to Stan. If someone as important as him came here, Stan’d know.”

Our waitress, a hard-knuckle woman in her later 50s, came to collect our empty plates. Standing sideways to us with her face tilted to the side and down, and with a tone of familiar boredom, she said, “The big man is ready for ya’. Go through the counta’. Left at the ‘frig. Can’t miss him.”

Barnes and I did as directed. As soon as we turned left at the “frig”, we saw him, a literal wall of man, standing before an eight-foot-long griddle. He was so wide, they had married two aprons together so as to stretch across his midsection.

- Stan? I said.

Nothing.

- Stan? I repeated.

- I heard you the first time, lawman. Come over here. Sit on these boxes of oil.

I sat where directed. Barnes, on the other hand, took his usual position as faithful sentry behind me.

From the side, Stan’s head was the size and shape of a medicine ball: big and round. He had a well-maintained pork-chop beard and a mane of wild curls, which were slicked to mid-skull. The remaining locks broke out from the grease suppression into a clown’s wig behind. Stan turned to face me. I have never seen a nose so big in my life. If giants ever existed on this planet, Stan was surely a descendent.

- What you want to ask me, lawman? A splatter of batter plopped from his spatula to the floor, which I followed; he did not.

- Wondering if you know this man? I held out the picture of our suspect.

Stan glazed the picture with his brown cow eyes, snorted, swiveled back to his grill, flipped three pancakes in quick succession, and grunted.

- Guess that means you know him, I said.

- Man’s a first-class idiot. He ain’t been here in a while. I kicked him out. We don’t put up with no bullshit. He came all high and mighty trying to charm the waitresses and patrons, we’re a small diner Lawman, we don’t even recognize him at first, we don’t care about heroes in this part, we just live our lives. 

- Lawman, anyway, we Lou Damn Friggin’ Mitchell’s, and I ain’t got to take no bullshit from no one. Okay? he said, as if I was questioning him on this obviously objective fact. I nodded an assurance that he was right.

Stan turned to flip more pancakes as he waved a “whatever” at me with a free hand behind his back.

- I’m sure you’re absolutely correct, Stan. Is there anything else you can tell us about him? Did he say anything at all about where he was going, if he was alone?, anything to help us?

- For starters, he was a prick. Second, dumb as that box of oil you’re sitting on. I couldn’t squeeze one fact out for you. ‘Cept maybe he was a punctual psycho. He’d show up literally at 5:00 a.m. and leave at 8:00 a.m., punched on the exact click of the clock. I recall this. He said one thing that stands out. When he talked to me one day at the back door, he says, ‘I have a thing about timing. I’ll show up every day I come here on the same time. Call it OCD. Call it what you will. I am always on time. I have to be.’ That’s what he says to me. Friggin’ weirdo.

- Stan, that’s real helpful. 

- Stan… I started to say, but Stan swiveled his torso toward me, pointing his spatula in my face. I leaned back, away from his thrust; Barnes, however, leaned in. Stan ignored him, for it was clear he was but a fly in his kitchen. They’d probably make a good pair, the two of them; Stan might have been Barnes’s match, if he were in to such things.

- Oh hell, lawman, he was a crazy son-of-a-bitch. I remember something. He had a nervous tick. Would blink his eyes a lot if you confronted him. Real annoying like. So this plus the gotta be on time thing, I think he really did have OCD. Stan paused, blinking his eyes furious at me as a demonstration. Yup, all’s I remember. That’s it.

I’m sure Barnes questioned what we could do with this information. I’m sure he doubted it would help at all. I felt the density of doubt, for Barnes was usually right.

- Stan, if we ask you to come testify to prove Steve Rogers was here, think you could do it? 

- Hell, Lawman, is he in trouble? We hate that prick over here, so anything you need to prove his whereabouts, I’m your guy, I don’t have fancy security cameras but we’ve been here for years and years, we’re a family and if you need us, course we’re going to do it. 

Back outside, Barnes and I walked from Lou Mitchell’s into the heart of Chicago’s loop. We crossed the Chicago River, taking the pedestrian’s path over an ornate, orange, arched iron bridge. The water below glowed Caribbean green, and ferries and water taxis glided in a harmonious chaos. Sightseers, lawyers, tourists, children, late-night jazz clubbers stumbling home, and stock market runners in piss-yellow jackets teemed about, the whole lot of them bumping into each other on their way to wherever, as though silver balls in a pinball machine. Lola and I kept a steady, slow pace amongst the bustle. We walked along to stand before the Sears Tower, both of us reflecting and silent, thinking separately about the morning’s developments.

We’d been together years at this point, and you might as well call us equals. I knew when he needed quiet, and he knew when I did. Although it kills me to say this, Barnes and I worked in a synchronized tandem more refined than me and my own wife. Even our steps that morning clicked in synch, our stride the same, our gait, our breaths, our pauses and head shakes, our very beings choreographed as though a long-running tap-dance team on Broadway. This may have been the walk in which I admitted to my inner nagging that I was a terrible husband. I was never home. But would Synthia be disappointed in me if I quit? Would I be able to walk away from this personal hell, this obligation I’d imposed upon myself, partially as punishment and partially to rectify a past and grave error?

Down into the belly of the loop we sauntered. Tall buildings on each side of Madison Street made parts of our stretch as dark as twilight. When we came to the jewelry merchants on Lower Wacker, the raised train roared over our heads. In this part of town, the pigeons outnumber the office workers, who populate the area two streets back. We continued on, passing over Michigan Avenue to enter Grant Park. It was here that Barnes and I sat upon a green bench. I crossed my legs in contemplation. He spread his own, jabbing his elbows on his thighs and hanging his head between his knees.

My phone rang. It was Boyd again. I was expecting him. I stood and walked in circles, listening to him out of Barnes’s straining ear.

I returned to the bench and mimicked Barnes, our heads hanging between slumped shoulders. After a solitary minute, I exhaled loudly to call our two-person team to attention. I had something to report.

In my line of work, I’ve heard many crazy, insane fact patterns, combinations of reality that while real in individual parts seem incredulous when smashed together. Take for example the case in which a Romanian-run circus abandoned its old dancing bear in a densely wooded forest in Pennsylvania, the same place we thought a kidnapper had taken a ten-year-old girl the month before.

Tracking human scents, for this is how the declawed bear associated food, for three miles of concentric loops, she literally fell upon our kidnapper, suffocating him with a mama-bear paw on his windpipe. The ten-year-old girl, too horrified, tired, and beaten to respond, simply rolled to the bear’s feet, sobbing. She later told us that in her delirium, the bear appeared to her to be Mary the Mother of God, with sunrays shining off her divine face and all around her pink cape. The bear lowered her head and with her snout nudged the girl to climb aboard. A motorist found the girl half-conscious on the bear’s back, the bear whine-growling down the center of an old logging road. The girl wore a pink leotard; the dancing bear wore a pink tutu.

Thinking on Boyd’s fresh story while I sat on that Chicago park bench, I heaved a sigh of disbelief, as though filtering all the air in the city through my lungs could compress his words to a truth I could believe.

In our slouched state, Barnes twisted to me, and I did the same to him. “You ready to tell me what Boyd said,” he asked.

- Get the car. We’re going back to Indiana. We need to leave an hour ago.

- Damn, Rumlow, I knew that shit-stinking farmer knew more.

- You have no idea. You’re never going to believe this one. Get the car.

- Pink bear?

- Pink bear.

Taglist: @cjand10​

[bo-bo-bean]

Memories

Memories

Zuke pulled out the tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven, giving them a sniff and turning one over with a spatula. A beautiful light pecan covered the bottom of each one, chewy on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside. They were puffed up as if air was inflated into each one. Already, the smell was haunting the sewers, set aside the typical sewer and sweat scent.

“Cookies are done!?” Mayday eagerly asked, sitting on the couch on her knees.

“They need to cool,” he told her, going to sit next to her. With a whine, she sighed as Zuke grunted as he took place on the couch, leaning back. Mayday, always enthusiastic. Zuke, quite the opposite. But he never opposed to baking and cooking. It always brought a… joy to him.

He began to wonder about ways to improve the recipe, but nothing could change. He didn’t want it to change.

“Zuke!” Mayday called. Zuke looked over with a confused look. “Hey did ya hear me?”

“About the cookies?” he tipped his head. Mayday scoffed. As cool as Zuke is, he sure is absent-minded. But she smiled and asked her question again.

“I asked how you cooked so well…! Like ever since we met, you made all sorts of recipes! Chicken rendang, Ikan Bakar, Nasi Lemak, all sorts of foods! So like… what, did you have baking class in college?”

“Eh, no not really,” he shook his head. “But you can say I had a teacher.”

“Was it Eve?” she wondered, plopping down to listen to a tale she would be ready for.

“Nah, she always went out to eat. No… it was West,” he smiled. “When we were kids, mom and dad were out a lot, so he and I cooked. A lot. He taught me a lot and it was fun.”

“Ooooh, man! The bros cooking and rapping!”

“Eh, only he was rapping,” he softly chuckled. “But… it was the best memory I have with him. Still is…”

And soon, Zuke’s mind wandered to young him wearing an oversized hoodie, hair tied back, going to his brother. West was wearing a tank top with baggy orange jeans, humming as he was setting out some ingredients. It was nearly two in the morning.

“Weessstt…” he groggily groaned. “Go to bed…”

“I’m hungry…!” Little West shrugged with a chuckle. Zuke rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, pushed a chair next to his brother, climbed on, and looked. West had a recipe book open and ingredients all about. Flour, sugar, eggs, salt, vanilla, measuring spoons, cups, butter, brown sugar. Whatever it was, Zuke assumed it was going to be sweet.

“So where’s mom and dad?”

“Out,” West replied nonchalantly. Zuke huffed at the answer, but curiosity got the better of him when he saw the recipe book. He couldn’t read yet, but the picture showed cookies.

“You’re making cookies?” he asked, a little perked up.

“Yeah!” he beamed with pride. “Figured it’s worth a shot to make! And I always wanted to!”

Zuke looked at the counter, then the book, then his older brother.

“Can I help?”

West nodded and got aprons for both of them. Zuke tied his around his waist, West one around his shoulders.

“The best way to remember recipes is to make them memorable…!” he pointed out, raising a whisk in the air and spinning it a bit. Zuke couldn’t help his excitement as his fingers drummed on the counter. “So what if we made a rap about it?”

“Haha…! Okay…! I’ll keep the beat!” Zuke announced, holding two wooden spoons. With his brother’s agreement, West clapped his hands, breathed in, and sang with silliness intended.

“Time to bake, it’s cookie baking time! Watch and learn as I teach you in rhyme!”

Zuke giggled, ready to follow his brother’s instructions. “First the dry, pour the sugar and the flour!”

“Flower?” Zuke looked confused. But when he saw West measure it out, he understood. He took the cups and poured them into the bowl carefully, tongue sticking out in concentration. West looked at the book, eyes widened but continuing his song.

“Almost forgot! Preheat the oven for an hour!”

West quickly did that, Zuke keeping an even pace on a saucepan. “Mix mix mix until they all have met…!”

Zuke took the whisk as he stirred everything together. He looked down, thinking, but gained a smile when West put a thumb up. “Put that aside,” he put the bowl away to have a clear space. “Let’s get the others set! Cracking eggs, melt the butter please…!”

Zuke quickly got off the chair and put the butter in the microwave to soften. He watched his brother crack eggs on the side of the bowl and put the yolk and whites in. Zuke scrambled back on, holding his hands out.

“I wanna try!”

West let him. Zuke took the egg, took careful aim… and smashed it on the side of the bowl. It oozed on the table, eggshells sticking to his hands. He gasped, but a loving arm was put around his shoulders and then West’s hands put his fingers on Zuke’s tiny hands, leading him to cracking an egg and carefully put it in.

“Add vanilla, put your taste buds at ease…!” West added a dash of vanilla, then looked back at the book. They were both covered with flour at this point. “Douse some oil, don’t be too greedy!”

West measured the oil and let Zuke pour it in. “Chocolate chunks, only if you’re needy!”

They both sampled the chocolate chunks before putting them in, West more than Zuke, earning a slight scold from the drummer boy. He laughed it off as West brought the bowls together. “Whisk whisk, stir, stir, combine and mix!”

Zuke held the bowl as his brother slowly added the dry ingredients in slowly and letting him mix before his arms got tired, to which West took over. “Butter the pan, use the whole stick!”

He let Zuke take that one since he was busy mixing. Once the pan was completely covered in butter, they both molded little spheres and put them on the sheet. The oven beeped, ready for the next lyric. “Shove the sheet in the oven, slam it shut!”

They both did so, wearing oven mitts to protect them from the heat. West put a timer on the stove, letting it tick down. “Set the timer, not too soon, no shortcuts…!”

While waiting, West scatted and sang as Zuke banged to the beat, laughing as they cleaned up the area. They were both a mess, but the kitchen was spotless as soon as the timer rang. West pulled out the sheet, putting it on the counter. “Here’s a secret, let me put you to a halt…! When out and hot and super soft, add a pinch of salt…!”

West added some salt to the top of each cookie. Zuke was confused but went with it. West was the chef, not him. “I know you’re eager, drooling at this rate,” West put a hand over his shoulder. “But be patient, let them cool and all we have to do is wait… wait… wait…”

They both stared at the pan in silence. Zuke’s stomach rumbled, his mouth turning into a river at this point. After fifteen minutes, West nodded and they both grabbed a handful, going upstairs after leaving a note for their parents, and getting into bed together. They nibbled and giggled until their bellies were full.

“I can see why you added salt,” Zuke giggled, yawning and leaning on his brother.

“Brings the sweetness out…! The book said so…!”

Zuke smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. Zuke smiled fondly at the memory.

“Awwwww!” Mayday squealed. You two are so cute together!!”

“Ah! I’m not cute…!” he grumbled. “The cookies should be done now.”

He got the plate and they both took a bite. Sweet, airy, fluffy. He sighed out, eyes closed, a smile on his face. “Yeah… best teacher I had.”

@nsr-simp