#why is she like this ???? li buckle up you are in for shenanigans !!

[dawnswake-a]

                    it’s practically become routine by now, time that ought to be spent studying instead spent at li’s practices ( and time that ought to have been spent coaching being chipped away at by her attempts to steal away his attention ), but catching the coach off guard, lacing her fingers with his as he walked into the gym? not so routine. “ ok, so this CRAZY thing happened. ” notice that she says happened, deflects the blame with a charming grin. “ so i was talking to some friends after the cotillion, and they were like “ oh em gee you and li are so cute together ’ which, i mean, after our dance? we were couple goals. not that we’re a couple, obvi, but here’s the thing------ it might have been implied that we were and there’s this really cute guy who i want to make jealous.” 

                    the boy in question just so happened to be li himself. and it had been so nice at the cotillion, getting to indulge in all of the couple-y things she’d always wanted to with the same off-limits friend’s hot older brother she’d been crushing on for years. could anyone really blame her for wanting to continue the charade? “ so PLEASE be my fake boyfriend? i’ll make it up to you, i swear ! ”

@wcnderment .  /   FOR LI .  /   STARTER CALL .

[second-star-to-motunui]

Hello! I saw ur how animals love or something like that with Twisted Wonderland and I was wondering if u could do same with malleus, azul, floyd and Jade (maybe for their part + including Azul, u could make them in their "animal" form, I said "animal" bc they have half of the top of their body human only bottom is animal what I saw in the image) it's okay if u don't wanna! Sorry bad english

How Do Animals Love? Pt 2

Feat. Octavinelle; Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech and Malleus Draconia

How do they show love with their animal sides?

They/Them pronouns for reader. Reader is referred to as Yuu.

A/N: I intended to add the fish mafia to the first part but couldn’t decipher a damn thing about how morays or octopus show affection to mates or if they even do that so buckle up and get ready for my bullshit marine biology report lol ✨

Octopuses show affection with cuddling! They are very curious creatures and tend to learn about new things with lots of touching!

Azul more than likely won’t allow Yuu to see his animal form unless they are very close and they swear not to tell anyone how chubby he is in said form. Until then, he’s always got his hands on them, cradling their face and rubbing their cheeks or just wrapping an arm around them. Yuu is basically his personal body pillow.

His tentacles have a mind of their own. Azul can’t stop himself from wrapping them around Yuu just to hold them close. Yuu leaves cuddle sessions looking like they’re covered in hickies from head to toe. Those suction cups are no joke. Jade and Floyd tease them and Azul relentlessly for this.

“Hm? Oh hello, angelfish! No, don’t go, I was just doing some work. Sit here and let me hold you. We can do whatever you like once I’m done… My dear, why are you wearing that? Nobody needs to see the marks from my tentacles on your body! The twins are still bullying me after last time! … *sigh* You are lucky you’re adorable.”

Morays are weird little freaks of nature. Their “affection” is basically not biting the hell out of you so long as you give them food and pets.

In Jade’s case, he prefers pets! He’s a little touched starved so when he’s in need of love, Yuu can expect him to suddenly wrap them in a warm hug from behind or nuzzle into their neck to leave kisses or bites if he’s in a certain mood.

Sometimes Jade will show up to Ramshackle just for some love. There’s nothing he loves more than laying in Yuu’s lap with his arms around them while they stroke his hair. He also really likes massages. Giving them or receiving? Both, he’s happy either way.

“Yuu, my darling, are you busy right now? I had a rather long day at the Monstro Lounge and I could use a recharge… Oh, you give such healing hugs. How would you like to go for a swim with me today?”

Ever heard of the diver who fed a moray for 5-6 years so every time she went diving the moray would show up for pets? That is Yuu and Floyd.

Floyd likes to joke about how delicious Yuu look and playfully trying to bite their cheek. Yuu, taking the shenanigans a bit too literally, now gives Floyd snacks so he’ll stop staring at them with hungry eyes.

He’s not actually gonna eat them of course! But hey, he’s not gonna say no to free snacks. Plus the fact this little human’s first reaction to seeing Floyd is holding up a cookie or something is indescribably cute and hilarious to him.

“Oh woe is me, I feel dizzy! I could certainly go for some delicious shrimp right now… Lil Shrimpy! Don’t give me that look! You know I’m just teasing ya, c’mere. *smooch* I actually am hungry though. Let’s get Jade to cook us something tasty!”

Dragons hoard shiny things and other stuff they consider treasure. That includes Yuu.

Nobody actually knows if Malleus has his own dragon treasure hoard. There’s rumors that his hoard lies somewhere in an abandoned castle in his hometown or in a secret place on Sage’s Island. Surprise! It’s in Ramshackle Dorm. Malleus sees Yuu as his most precious treasure so naturally he ended up leaving shiny objects around the dorm. It started with little things like gold coins or little jewels until it became a full blown hoard.

Yuu just moves all of Malleus’s treasure items into an empty bedroom where nobody grim can mess with it. Now that room is kind of like their nest. Malleus loves to lay in there with Yuu in his arms, hidden away from the world. A room full of beautiful jewels and gold and other treasures but his eyes remain on Yuu.

“Do you like that diamond I found, child of man? You may keep it if you like… Lay here with me for a moment, darling. Does this not feel like a fairytale? A dragon guards a castle and inside lies mountains of treasure and a beautiful prince/princess… Only I won’t let any knights steal you away from me.”

[atsukawolfcat]

Genshin Impact x City of the Dead Idea

My little angsty heart literally has me up at 5AM and pumping me with oxygen-rich blood to have my brain fuel my need for ANGST

So if you have NO idea what the City of the Dead is, it's a song. Cuz it's me and I am not original. I will link the nightcore version here (its the one I was listening to when I thought of this, even did the tippy tap dance when I was on my way to open my laptop and write this post) and the normal version here for you normal people that don't need nightcore in your lives. Anyway, this is a long one, so buckle up!

Gosh, this is so hard to put into words what my idea is. Basically, you have control over the souls of those who passed, either in the past, present or future. This was a power handed to you by the Creator as you have earned yourself a spot within their guard. Being very new makes it hard to control your newfound power, but you have trained in it enough to keep it in check.

But imagine meeting any character that has lost a loved one and was majorly affected by it like Diluc, Kaeya, the Archons, Ayato and Ayaka, Shenhe, Xiao and etc. You have your memories intact, and you know their stories so as your heart is pained for what they went through, you lose slight control of your power. So you accidentally materialize their loved one.

Basically, imagine the following (this will be an example for Zhongli and Diluc cuz why not and you have met all the characters at the same time as the Traveller):

You had joined the Traveller in the quest to find their sibling, mostly because you found it fascinating how their power and aura contrasted with yours. You had met Zhongli, and while the Traveller left off to prepare for the trip to Inazuma, you stayed with Zhongli as he told you the history of Liyue. Zhongli and you were walking alongside each other when you felt the familiar shiver across your exposed skin. Zhongli had led you to where Guizong had died and was telling you the story. As he spoke, his eyes gleamed and gave you the sense of a long painful longing. Your heart squeezed at this, and for a moment you let go of the control of your power, which in turn made Guizhong materialize from the past. Guizhong looked around in confusion, as this was not the land she was from that she could immediately recognize. Zhongli immediately stopped his story to stare at her, only to whisper her name in confusion as he lifted his hand to touch her face. Just before he did, she disappears once more, as you immediately controlled your power upon seeing the woman appear. Zhongli could only stare at where she once was, as she had been lost to him once again.

Diluc would always nearly recklessly dance with death, so you essentially hovered over him while he overworked himself to the point of exhaustion. The Traveller had moved on to Liyue, but you had stayed behind because of this redheaded madman. You did admit, you liked him quite a bit before, but now meeting him face to face made you want to slap some sense into him. You had talked to him that it would do no one any good to go around as a husk as he was, even if it was for the "greater" good. Luckily, he was convinced after the 10th time, so you decided to tail him in the case he didn't follow through. You surprisingly, see that he did follow through and that he had met Kaeya during his walk around Mondstadt. They both went to the place where their father had passed and reminisced over the shenanigans they would pull as children. You lost control over your power for a split second, as you felt the tears fall from your eyes while they talked. Crepus has manifested, in front of the two men. You gained your control back as soon as you saw him appear, but he was already seen. You were tempted to bring him back once more, to give the two at least an hour with their father, but you couldn't. Not when they both had cried "Father!" with so much sorrow when he disappeared again.

You basically get the idea (I hope), that if you go to a location where strong feelings are lingering or you meet certain criteria, you can accidentally create some drama.

Yeah, this could work with angst very well. I also had this idea for the Reincarnated!Reader, where they had died but go back in time. Yeah, the same trend that's with some of these comics and manhwas lately, but I like them cuz its so good, and the angst is always above 90%. This time though, your goal would be basically to save you and your S/O character (I am this obsession with Diluc so yeah him for myself but I also am torn between everyone else as well) from some danger outside of normal parameters. So you die over and over again to prevent it, and basically make multiple timelines to use to your advantage. Still an idea though, but simplest version to see would be from Puella Magi Madoka Magica, your role being Homura's.

[cutegirlmayra]

Oh here's a prompt idea: Movie!Sonic meets Game!Sonic and they marvel at how different they both are. Amy finally catches up after chasing Sonic and is heaven seeing two Sonic's. Movie!Sonic having never met another hedgehog let alone one as forward and open as Amy is enamored and Game!Sonic is conflicted if he's happy a version of himself is loosening up but worried Amy will take too much of a likening to him. So like a sprinkle of jealous Sonic but we know where Amy's heart lies.

PROMPTS ARE CLOSED DO NOT ASK FOR MORE PROMPTS, MY CUTIES I LOVE YOU, BUT YOU MUST WAIT.

You’ll find my response to this prompt here: The pajama blogs 24:25

Prompt:

After a dimensional rift is created by Game!Eggman, the game counterparts are flung into Movie!Sonic’s world.

After some zany fun and shenanigans', the two finally realize the ‘double-ganger’ wasn’t ‘Shadow’ or ‘Metal Sonic’ at all, but actually a different Sonic!

“Woah!” Before Game!Sonic could even say anything, mimicking Game!Sonic’s actions a second as they both think they’re staring in a reflection behind a fountain’s waterfall effect, Game!Sonic is the first one to to actually say something. “You’re-! The other me! Oh, this is awesome!” Zips to his other side, as Game!Sonic is amazed but kinda used to these things by now?

So he simply smiles, opens his mouth to say something but then Movie!Sonic continues to zip around him and lift different parts of him up.

“I saw you save that rich Chris kid from falling off that tower. I also save people from towers, long story, quick spark notes, they’re now kinda my mom and dad. Oh~ Buckles! Shiny, but why a buckle? Do you not know how to tie shoes? Me neither. Do slip-ons exist in your world? What’s your world like? Never really knew mine. Were buckles ever in season? Trendy? Why are your arms the color of your skin and why is your quills a solid form, do you compact them with gel? That’s a lot of gel. Why is your blue darker than mine but my fur tanner than your... again, skin? Why do you shave? Also, you look a little like a two-eyed cyclops-HEY!”

Game!Sonic, rolling his eyes at the young energy, swipes the Chaos Emerald from Movie!Sonic’s quills and moves away from him, waving a finger.

“Thanks, that’s cool, weird. Buckles are always cool. No, okay, yes but no, exciting and beautiful, that’s a shame. Always and forever, because they are, no gel, all natural, I guess I get more sun while you get more bleach, and nice joints, stick-figure.”

Game!Sonic waited a second... looking a bit confused and/or offended... before giving off a goofy grin and simply stating, “Touche.”

“Do you know what this is?” Game!Sonic pointed to the Chaos Emerald.

“No idea, but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Game!Sonic teased and hugged himself, “But in all seriousness, that weird, pudgy Eggman with the wild stache has been trying to snatch it from me like Chilifries!”

“Always the chilifries.” Game!Sonic shook his head and looked up as though relating hard with that, “Well, It’s important. I need 6 more of these... and wait, was Eggman ever NOT fat?”

The two stared at each other a second, and then Movie!Sonic looked away and puckered his lips back as though not wanting to say anything to the look that Game!Sonci gave him.

“Soniiiicc!!!”

Turning around, Game!Sonic winced and spread his mouth back, showing his teeth and an expression of ‘uh oh’ at the voice and figure coming towards them.

However... when Movie!Sonic turned around...

‘I know a girl who's tough but sweet She's so fine, she can't be beat Got everything that I desire Sets the summer sun on fire.’

As the song played, Amy’s quills swished around as she ran, her dress also scooted to one side and her smile lit up the world. She winked, but it was really just her ducking from the reflection of the water glaring her eyes and then jumped into a starstruck Movie!Sonic.

Game!Sonic looked down at them.

‘IIII~ Want candy~ I~ Want candy~’

“Oh! I’m so glad I was able to find you again, Sonic! Hehe! You can’t separate two fated lovers!” She squee’d, nuzzling in as Movie!Sonic’s eyes were a bit loopy but he shook himself free of the music and looked greatly conflicted.

On one hand, this is totally awesome.

On the other hand, fated lovers?!

“What just happened?” Movie!Sonic gently tried to get her off but her grip was ferociously strong. “Emm! Lady! I-It’s very nice-! Ah! To meet... you...toooooo!” He finally gasped for air when he got her off of him, but Game!Sonic just snickered into his hands.

“Amy, meet Other Sonic from this dimension. Then meet again.” Game!Sonic introduced them before giving a sarcastic look to her when he pointed back to himself.

She had to study them a second but then flew her hands up by her face, getting up off the ground she was sitting down on. “Oh my rings! I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

She leaned over Movie!Sonic, “Wow! Now that I look at you... you really do look young!”

“And I’m fluffy too.” Movie!Sonic zipped back up, shaking himself off as he suddenly turned poofy from the friction in his quills.

“Ah! Haha!” Amy pointed and got lightly zapped, then clapped as though easily-amused by his antics. “He’s so cute!”

Game!Sonic had to do a double-take, folding his arms as she said that...

“You’re even taller than Sonic!”

Then pouting.

“And you’re uhh... As pink as a gumball!” Movie!Sonic thought fast, scratching behind his head in his nerves and leaning one foot out and up towards her, then skidding it on the ground to then move closer to her, where he had placed it. “N-not that I like gumballs.” He saw Game!Sonic’s expression and immediately grew nervous, shaking his hands out in front of her, “They get stuck in your teeth, but the sugar is nice.”

Amy just giggled, “Amy. Amy Rose.” She offered him her hand and instead of taking it... though reaching out for it, he looked over his shoulder at Game!Sonic and stood back, bowing to her instead.

“You must be a secret princess or something from your world, right? Is he here to protect you or something?” Movie!Sonic threw a thumb back towards Game!Sonic as she giggled into her hands, then swayed back and forth as her hands intertwined and laid at her front.

“Hehe, he’s a charmer... for sure!”

She then noticed the Chaos Emerald in Game!Sonic’s folded arms as he groaned at how sweet they were being to one another.

“Oh! A Chaos Emerald! I almost forgot! I was trying to tell you I found one, but I lost it to that Metal silver robot...”

“That’s gotta be Metal Sonic!” Movie!Sonic suddenly stated, “I saw him come through the portal when you guys did!”

“Two Metal Sonics? Oh no...” Amy cupped her face, worried about their own world’s Metal Sonic... “But it definitely looked funny...”

“Yeah, Dr. Robotnik is a funny sort of fellow.” Movie!Sonic thought she meant the doctor...

“Umm...” Amy looked confused, about to correct him but Game!Sonic stuck out his arm.

“It’s nice to stay and chat like old pals, Amy, but we could use a direction on where he went with that Chaos Emerald.”

“Oh, right!” Amy immediately gave them the locations, and as they sped off, Movie!Sonic kept showing off for Amy instead of actually trying to get the Chaos Emerald.

It was annoying Game!Sonic, “Hey, focus, man!” he cried out as Movie!Sonic was too distracted to realize that the robot was shooting straight at where he had dived to catch the Chaos Emerald.

“Oh no!” Amy covered her eyes, but then threw her hammer, “Just kidding~” she jumped into the battle and saved Movie!Sonic.

He was deeply embarrassed after that, and found he was becoming lamer and lamer the more he tried to impress her, being clumsy and the like.

With all the flattery too... Game!Sonic started to worry about Amy.

“Hey, ease up, will ya?” He finally told Movie!Sonic. “You’re making me look bad here...”

“Wait, really?!” Movie!Sonic shook his head pretty quickly, “I thought you were being cooler than me! That’s why I tried so hard to make a good impression!”

“What? Dude, I know you haven’t known Amy for very long, but she’s not someone to judge that fast. She’s got a good sense of character, and she knows you’re just nervous, loosen up and quit trying so hard. You’ve gotta be naturally cool to be a Sonic.” he dusted himself off and gave him his typical Sonic smirk and wink, pointing out his thumb and index finger and tucking it up under his chin. “If you believe it, then you are it.”

“Ohhh... Attitude. Got it!” Movie!Sonic stopped trying so much to impress Amy and went back to the mission, only concerned about his image looking pathetic around her.

Later, it was clear Amy was favoring Movie!Sonic, trying to get his attention in normal ways again, but he absent-mindedly disregarded her each time.

Feeling ignored, Amy went to Game!Sonic, asking if she had insulted or hurt Movie!Sonic on accident, and wanted to make things right.

“Gee, you’re really worried about how he sees you, huh?” Game!Sonic was pitching up a tree-tent to sleep under, tying a rope below the tree as Amy nervously fidgeted.

“I just don’t understand! I didn’t do anything to make him feel like I wasn’t be polite or kind enough...” she twiddled her fingers, but then, just as Game!Sonic was gonna tell her the truth, she embraced him from behind.

“I’m glad you’re not like that Sonic... at least, when I talk to you, you hear me out, right?”

He suddenly had a crooked smile on his face, and all honesty went out the window.

His ears curled as though horns and patted Amy’s arm. “Oh, of course, Amy! I would never treat you so poorly...”

She sniffled, and he beamed even more.

“Tell ya what, maybe you should stick with our universe for a while... make you feel better.” He patted and stroked her head in a condensing way, smirking at his own devious plans.

Amy was now very dismissive of Movie!Sonic, causing him to wonder what he did wrong. She was a bit vicious in her absolute disregard for him, not like his unintentional way with her.

Discussing it with Game!Sonic, he put two and two together and realized he had turned her against him.

It sparked a rivalry, a figurative tug-o-war before Amy finally saw them both work together to help her when she was surrounded by Eggman’s robots, threatening to make her a lab-experiment.

“This Dr. Robotnik is nuts!”

“Wasn’t he always?” The two said at the same time, fist-bumping and chuckling, as Game!Sonic let Movie!Sonic carry her back to camp.

After that, they didn’t let Amy get in-between their fun, and they sort of bonded over it.

Amy... was still confused, but was now fighting for both their attentions, as they led her on thinking they were ‘just too busy’ but secretly just liking her work for their attentions instead of the other way around!

Oh, but she got back at them!

By the end, they had two nasty bumps on the head to prove it!

“Phew! That was fun, but maybe... I don’t think I’ll be seeing her again.” Movie!Sonic lightly rubbed his large bum on his head before... “Oh great...” His eyes shrunk as a yellow fox he now knew was ‘Tails’ arrived and with him... a new rosy pink hedgehog...

And the hammer thumping on the head never ceased from then on in~<3

[ridasverkisto]

who are your top ten black clover characters and ships (romantic, platonic)? talk about them!

Oooooooh. This is gonna be a long one so buckle in. I’m also splitting the answer into two—so this is top ten ships, and I’ll do top ten characters in a separate post, because this is long. 😅

Before I get going, I’m just going to say this is in no particular order—I’m listing them in the order they come to mind, as I love all of these pairings for different reasons so it’s hard for me to rank them. I’ll also preface that for most of my pairings it usually doesn’t matter much to me whether it’s romantic or platonic, so long as they’re not. Y’know. Actual siblings/family/etc. Also for the purposes of this ask, I’m leaving out stuff like...the Black Bulls as a platonic ship tag. They’re found family, it’s sort of a given, so this isn’t going to focus on that. And before anyone asks, yes, I have crackships. I am not apologizing.

[If this needs a page break to keep from clogging tags lmk, btw]

1. Magna/Luck (and/or Magna & Luck, it’s the same to me)

What can I say? I’m a sucker for two dumbass best friends who share a brain cell living their best lives. Their dynamic is fun and interesting—Luck literally views Magna as fun and interesting and he loves bothering him because of how he reacts, while Magna started out hating it but grew incredibly fond of Luck’s antics.

They’re dumbasses, but they’re loveable dumbasses who bring out both the best and worst in each other, and I just love the way they interact. It’s great and I love them both so much 💕

2. Finral & Langris

Okay okay so. I know there’s baggage here, because Langris is an entitled little asshole trashbaby, but hear me out. Finral gets to be an older brother, exasperated with Langris and trying super hard to be a good sibling, while Langris is still a trashbaby but a softer one. Like.

They are Peak Sibling Energy, because I can see Langris insulting Finral because “polite interaction with my loser brother, how tf?” But the moment someone else tries to insult Finral, Langris gets annoyed. It’s the younger sibling Rights, only the sibling gets to insult the other siblings and if you try to get in on that fuck you. Meanwhile, Finral learns to be the responsible older sibling to Langris, and steps into being more responsible in other parts of his life while repairing his relationship with Langris.

Not going to lie, a lot of my love for this ship is because I’m probably projecting my own relationship with my own brother onto them to some extent, and my love for proper Sibling Energy has no bounds because that shit’s hilarious when done right.

Let Finral and Langris develop the weird half-unspoken language of siblings, let them reference embarrassing things and blackmail each other over stupid shit like “who’s going to go refill the teapot” or something!! Let them be petty and loving and protective as they learn to be siblings again, because growth!!!!

3. Julius & Yami & William

Why yes, I am a polyshipper. But mostly what I really like about this one is the history and the dynamics between the three of them.

On the one hand you have Julius, who’s hugely respected by the other two, basically mentored/parented them both, and loves them both a hell of a lot. (You can’t look at the way Julius looks at Yami and William and tell me that’s not love, fuck you)

On another, you have Yami; he’s the outcast, loner, stranger in a strange land who was given a support system and place to belong by Julius. He also struggles to understand the less forthright William, and is fiercely loyal. Like. This man loves and respects Julius so fucking much, and it’s shown through such small gestures, it’s amazing.

And finally, there’s William—who couldn’t chose between Julius and Patry, yeah. Who’s a coward and a troll and hides behind his words and masks, but has made the choice to atone for his mistakes. He feels a lot, and is so clearly trying to be better it hurts.

The way the three of them interact has a lot of history and intricacy behind it, and even with current events in the series, I really really love their relationship with each other. This isn’t a ship I love for fluff, but for the tension and aching weight of history and growing up that lies heavy on it. It’s got this lovely sort of pain to it that feels like nostalgia in the summer heat, knowing nothing is ever going to be like it was once and still deciding to hold onto what you have with both hands.

I never said I ship for fluff and romance—I’m here for dynamics, and these three have amazing dynamics. (I will note for this one that it’s one that I can’t see as romantic at all. Not the least bc Julius was literally in his twenties when Yami and William were like 15, bc ~fuck that shit~)

4. William/Dorothy/Rhya

Is this a crackship? Yes!

Have these characters barely if ever interacted on screen? Yes!

Am I probably the only person who thought of this ship and wants to see content for it? Yes!

Do I give a fuck? No!

Not gonna lie, I know this is a crackship of massive proportions. But I’m here for the dynamics and the dynamics here have the potential to just be so damn cathartic, okay?

If I go on a deep tangent about this ship it’ll end up being an entire essay, so that can wait for another day, so I’ll just...give you this: these three have a lot to give each other to challenge and help each other grow. There’s a lot of potential, and tension, and catharsis here. The contrasts and dynamics between the three of them would be interesting and immensely entertaining.

I’ll also shamelessly admit that a good portion of this is also fueled by my personal head canons of William being a trans guy, Dorothy being feminine presenting nb, and Rhya just straight up being pan and attracted to strong people. What can I say? I know what I like lmao 😂

5. Yuno & Asta

I’m a sucker for good friendly rivalries. Especially ones full of so much mutual respect!!! Like, they both respect each other and care so fucking much is amazing ❤️

And don’t get me wrong, I get the people that ship them romantically and I’ll read it; but I see their relationship as more sibling rivalry/platonic than anything else.

You can’t look at Yuno being a Dramatic Bitch to get on Asta’s nerves and tell me that’s not Peak Sibling Energy, because I tell you I have done the exact same to my own brother. Let them be dorks and friends and brothers, bc it WORKS.

6. Rill/Charmy/Langris

Yes, yes this is another crackship. No, I do not care! And yes, i am aware it will very likely never be canon.

I just really like the image of Langris being reluctantly folded into the dynamic of two cinnamon rolls who could probably flatten him if they really wanted to. And Langris slowly coming to the realization that he actually really likes them and cares for them, even if he is a bit tsun-tsun about expressing it sometimes.

Plus, y’know, Rill and Charmy won’t indulge his asshole-ier behaviors, and if he pisses Charmy off he’s very likely to get his ass kicked.

I can’t really explain it more than that other than I just really really like the dynamics with this trio and I hold it very close to my heart 💕

7. Finral & Vanessa

Let them be friends!!! Let them be platonic best friends!!!! I love their dynamic, esp if you expand on it and take a look at how Finral and Vanessa can play off of each other. BEST FRIENDS.

8. David & Letoile

I know everyone likes to think of them as the chaotic one and the no-nonsense one, but consider: Letoile getting wrapped up in David’s shenanigans bc they’re just as ride or die as Magna and Luck are. Everyone thinks of her as the other holder of the Golden Dawn’s self restraint, and she sort of is, but her standards of what should be restrained is very different from Klaus’s.

9. Julius & Marx (can also be Julius/Marx, but only prior to the whole deaging thing)

Wholesome ship! It’s already obvious that they care about each other a lot in canon, so let that be expanded upon and developed more. It also adds the fun bit that the issues with Julius running away from his paperwork become even more comical with the added context. It starts to feel less like a subordinate yelling at their commandeer and more like an old married couple or something 😂

10. Leopold & Asta & Yuno & Noelle

Three competitive dumbasses and the exasperated one who makes it worse. I love them all and I think they make the best fucking quad friend group;; let them be friends, please. Please. Just the shenanigans they would get into makes me cackle with glee.

[cherry-holland]

Dmitri Island - ch 2

(Moodboard done by the lovely @sandersonosterfield ✨)

A/n: hello everyone!! Here’s the next chapter to this lovely series!!! It’s a bit of a filler, but who doesn’t love a slow burn? 😏🥰 also I apologize for how long this is it’s suuuper long but it’s necessary! Promise 👌🏽

Warnings: just a whole lotta fluff, mutual (but not known) pining, and a twinge of jealousy 😏

✨

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To say that the next week before the trip flew by was an understatement. It seemed like the work week went with the snap of a finger, and everyone was buzzing about the opportunity to get away. The group chat that consisted of you, Harry, Sam, Tuwaine, Harrison, and Tom had the same several messages on rotation.

How many days do we have left again?

Can’t wait to work on my tan 👌🏽

😎🌊🌴

It was as if every time you heard your phone buzz, the boys were talking about their plans for this island getaway. A lot of it consisted of how they all were going to get laid, which was quite an annoying conversation to be a part of, considering Harry and Tuwaine were egging Tom on finding a fit girl for the week.

Every time you saw the texts transpired about this topic, it made your blood boil. The whole idea of a vacation was to relax, not for hookups. But of course, the boys had other plans, plans of which included bringing Tom in on their shenanigans. You knew that getting this upset over the thought of Tom holding another girl close, hands trailing up and down her body, leaving open-mouthed kisses up and down her body... ugh, it made you positively shudder. Because you so desperately wanted that to be you, but you kept your feelings to yourself.

The day before travel day, everyone agreed staying at Tom and Harrison’s was the best idea. It made it easier for everyone - no one had to wake up super early to commute in that damned London traffic, everyone could ride together, and they had the most rooms out of everyone’s apartments. It was a win-win.

“Do you guys only eat pizza when I’m not here, or do any of you actually cook?” You asked as you opened the door to the boys’ apartment. You walked in and immediately saw three brown pizza boxes on the kitchen counter, two of which had already been emptied prior to your arrival.

“Well, y/n/n, we weren’t gonna actually cook anything the night before we leave for Dmitri Island! That would be silly,” Harrison greeted you, exiting the kitchen whilst polishing off his recent slice.

He walked over to you and leaned in to give you a hug and a messy kiss on your cheek, which made you giggle. “Ugh, Haz, you gave me a greasy pizza kiss! That’s gross!”

“Mhm, that’s what you get for arriving late, love,” Harrison laughed as he kept an arm slung around you.

Harrison and you always had a very brother/sister dynamic right from the get-go. After being introduced to him by Tom, you found out that you both had a lot in common, and even pulled a “Step Brothers” moment. It was like having a younger brother with Harrison. He was a hard-ass and a little shit, but was always such an amazing confidant. He was your go-to guy (if Tom wasn’t around) when it came to anything: work-related problems, friend issues, and even guys. Always playful, always there.

Tom had walked in on you and Harrison greeting one another, and for some reason he felt this heart drop at the sight. You and Harrison were normally affectionate, definitely platonically, but it stirred something inside of him. Seeing you in your work clothes - the way the black and white pea coat was slightly opened to reveal those high-waisted black, tailored dress pants you loved, a tight beige mock neck sweater hugging your curves, black belt with a gold buckle holding it all together - and that damn greasy kiss planted on your cheek made Tom’s jaw tighten. And he had no idea why this was affecting him so much.

Just pull it together, Holland.

“Well, Haz, y/n has a real big girl job that she actually has to commute to. Not like some of us,” Tom teased as he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

Your head snapped around when you heard his voice, and you swore you let out a small gasp. He looked damn good. With his tight black v-neck that nearly skimmed the top of his very lowly-slung light grey joggers, so low that you could nearly see the white band of his Calvin’s peeking out, and his disheveled dark brown curls looking as soft as ever, it was enough to turn you into a pile of mush.

You shook the thoughts that were slowly starting to accumulate out of your head as you broke into a smile. “That’s right, Tommy. I do have a big girl job. We can’t all be actors now.”

“Yes, you know what they say. Those that can’t act land corporate jobs,” Tom teased with a wink, and you felt your knees get a little bit weak at the gesture as you walked over to give him a hug.

You felt his arms snake around your entire body as you reached up to his neck to hug him, his fingers drawing small little circles as you squeezed him tighter. You took in his warm, woodsy scent as he breathed in your woodsy floral notes of your perfume, a smile gracing both of your lips. You two stayed like that for a good five seconds before Harrison coughed. “Alright, you two leave some of the hugging for the rest of us, now.”

You and Tom broke apart quickly, light tinges of pink gracing both of your faces. You rolled your eyes as you messed up Harrison’s hair. “Whatever, div. Now, where am I staying?”

Harry cleared his throat as he turned his head from the couch where he was currently playing his PS4. “Well, y/n/n, we have some bad news...”

“Oh no, what did you divs do now?” You groaned.

“See, here’s the thing: Tom forgot that he was getting the guest room renovated, something about adding a bath or whatever in there, so our spare room is occupied now,” Tuwaine replied as he entered the room, his face turning away to take whatever reaction he was going to get from you.

“Oh my God, Thomas. You forgot about a major renovation happening in your home, right before we’re to go on vacation?” You turned to face Tom, rolling your eyes.

Tom’s face turned a darker shade of pink, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Sorry, darling, it’s hard to keep track of what kind of maintenance is needed or scheduled ‘round here.”

You took in his face for a moment, full of remorse and guilt, and you sighed audibly. “It’s alright, Tommy. Just need to figure out where I’m staying, that’s all.”

“Y/n, you’re more than welcome to take one of our rooms if you want,” Sam offered from the sofa, a small smile gracing his freckled face.

“Or, y/n, why don’t you stay in Tom’s room? He has the biggest bed, and we will not allow you to sleep on the couch. That shit is uncomfortable,” Harrison interjected, a sly grin growing on his chiseled face.

Harrison wasn’t a stranger to you and Tom’s obvious pining for each other. You both haven’t admitted yet to him (to which he has no idea why yet), but he knew you both were liking each other more than just best friends. You two were perfect for each other, so it was hard not to ship you both. He knew you two both would end up together one day for a while, he was just waiting for the opportunity to make it happen. And this was a start.

You ignored Harrison’s stare as you looked around the living room. Those couches were only really good for naps, but full on sleep? Nope, definitely not going to be good. “I don’t mind it really, though,” you lied.

“Y/n, that’s ridiculous. You’re getting my room, darling, no excuses,” Tom shook his head, placing his calloused hand on top of your clothed shoulder. You felt his thumb slowly move up and down, and the butterflies from earlier returned in your stomach. You looked up to see his dark brown eyes pleading at you, sparkling under the warm fluorescent lights of his home.

“Fine, only because you’re making me,” you poked his side, causing a mini fit of giggles to escape from his lips.

“Alright it’s suited then. Y/n, you can have the last of the slices of pizza, then we need to be going to sleep, boys and girl. We have an early morning tomorrow,” Tuwaine spoke, and wit that, the boys left to finish their packing, and Harry to his game.

You and Tom still stood in the kitchen as you went to grab a slice of the pepperoni that was left for you. “Mmm, you know, these are not as good as back home, but I’ll take it.”

“Well, y/n, we don’t have New York pizza here in London, darling. It’s just whatever we can find,” Tom chuckled, giving your arm a slight shove.

“Oh well, London can’t have everything now,” you joked, returning the shove back to him.

“Ah, love, we definitely do. It’s just not New York,” Tom quipped, stealing the slice of pizza from your hands as you were about to take another bite.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, Holland,” you look at him incredulously as he gives you the most wicked smirk.

Tom hums at your remark. “I would love to see you try, y/l/n.”

Tom’s heart beat is racing with the look you’re giving him. The playfulness behind your frown, the flicker of mischief that flashes across your eyes is enough to send the blood rushing to his head.

Control yourself, Holland.

“Oh just you wait, movie star,” you smirk as you start making a mad dash to Tom’s room, Tom following suit.

After you two nearly chased each other around the apartment, you two were laying at the edge of his California king bed, trying to calm down your ragged breaths from running around. You both were exhausted, but couldn’t move.

“Ugh, I wish someone would just take off my makeup for me, because I’m too damn comfortable right now,” you groaned, rubbing your temples.

“Darling, if you want, I could,” Tom replied, turning his head to face you, those damn dark browns twinkling so brightly.

“Oh, Tom, it’s okay. You do not need to do that, I appreciate it though,” you blushed, sitting up and looking directly at the hardwood floor to cover the heat rising to your face.

“I don’t mind,” Tom assured you, and he walked out of his room for a minute without explanation.

You frowned in confusion at his abrupt movement, when he came back with your sleek, leather suitcase in hand. “Alright, let’s get ready to sleep, y/n/n.”

“Tommy, you really don’t have to do this, you know,” you smiled weakly as you looked between your suitcase and Tom.

“Y/n. Stop being foolish and get your damn makeup wipes out so I can clean your face,” Tom concluded, stretching his hand out.

You rolled your eyes as you opened up your suitcase to find your wipes, handing one to Tom in defeat. He took the wipe from you, and with his other hand, he yanked you off the bed with a chuckle escaping your mouth.

Tom led you to his master bathroom as your pulse began to quicken. Walking into the giant restroom with marble flooring made you realize how intimate this was - Tom was about to take off your makeup. You and Tom were definitely affectionate, maybe more so than you and Harrison, and you definitely had your fair share of cuddle sessions with Tom, but this was a whole new level. And it made you nervous.

“You okay, darling?” Tom turned to look at you as he felt your hand subconsciously squeeze his a little.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about all of the travel we’re to do tomorrow,” you lied as you looked into his coffee-colored eyes. God they were beautiful eyes.

“Oh, y/n/n, it’ll be okay. It’s only a short drive to the ferry, and then before you know it, we will be in paradise, darling,” Tom comforted. “Now, come on, we need to get this shit off of you and our beauty rest.”

You chortled as you hopped onto the black and white marble counter. Once you were settled, Tom stood in front of your legs. He placed his large left hand on your right cheek as he took the wet wipe in his hand and smeared it across your left cheek. His gentle touch was electrifying against your skin. You couldn’t help but close your eyes at the touch.

Tom was doing all he could to be careful not to hurt you. He knew how to take makeup off, he’s done it so many times that it’s almost second nature to him. But it’s you. And even though this is just taking off makeup, he was being as careful and calculated as he could. He subconsciously started running his thumb along your jaw while working on the left side of your face, and for a second the swore he felt you lean in to the touch, but he quickly shook it off with a blush.

Holland, what the hell are you doing??

Tom swapped hands to start on the right side, and he finished before you even knew it. His touches were as light as a feather, and it nearly put you to sleep for a minute.

“Y/n, you’re all done,” Tom whispered as you fluttered your eyes open.

Once you did, you saw how close he was to you. Like it was so close that you could feel his warm breath dance along your lips. So close that you saw the many freckles that were scattered all along his nose, and boy were you tempted to reach out and touch them. You smelled peppermint wafting into your nose as his breaths started slowly to become more ragged. You followed his gaze to your lips, and you felt your face grow hot.

“Thank you,” you stammered, pulling away slightly to hide, yet again, another blush, and exiting the bathroom.

“You’re welcome, love,” Tom breathed, redness encompassing his face.

He followed you back into his room, walking to his chestnut brown drawers to pull out pajamas. Once he found pj’s, he went into his linen closet that was conveniently placed by his bathroom door and reached for a blanket and some extra pillows.

You watched the action in confusion. “Thomas, why are you grabbing those for?”

“Because you’re gonna be sleeping here. I’ll take the couch so you can have room,” Tom explained with a shrug.

“Nonsense, Tommy. You don’t need to do that,” you concluded. “Your bed is legit the size of the Atlantic Ocean, it’ll be okay. Also, it’s not as if we haven’t fallen asleep next to each other before.”

“Yeah, but that’s always when we all have our movie nights,” Tom cautioned, his eyebrows raising curiously. “Are you sure?”

You nodded your head as you took out your pajamas (really, it was just some old jogger sweatpants and one of Tom’s old t-shirts he gave to you a while back) from your own suitcase. “Yes, you idiot, now I’ll go change in the bathroom while you change here, and we can finally get that much needed beauty rest.”

Tom smiled, his face softening at the sound of your words. “Alright, darling. I’ll be here!”

You returned the grin as you shut the bathroom door to change, your stomach nearly dropping at the remark.

Holy shit, you’re about to sleep in the same bed as your best friend... your crush.

Pull it together, y/l/n!

Once you were in pajamas, you swung open the door to see Tom already laying in bed, his phone casting an illumination on his face. He was shirtless, which brought that same heat to your cheeks again, and you saw a peek of his dark grey joggers from under the covers. His hair was much more disheveled than it was when you first arrived, but he still looked ravishing.

Stop lusting over your best friend, y/l/n! Act normal!

Tom felt eyes on him as he looked up to see you staring at him. “Hmm do I have something on my face, darling?”

“Oh, no, sorry,” you mumbled, “just tired is all.”

Tom felt his heart go to mush when you yawned, stretching your arms high above your head. He always thought you were cute when you were sleepy, with you constantly rubbing your eyes, and your hair being slightly messy from you fussing around with it. Whenever you would come over in the evenings after work, you would always get like this, and your cuddliness made Tom’s heart increase in size.

“Come on, love. Let’s get some rest,” Tom beckoned, tapping the left side of the huge bed.

You padded over to the crisp, white bedding and slid in with a sigh. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you sunk yourself deeper into Tom’s sheets, a deep yawn escaping your lips.

You felt Tom shift beside you, and turned to see him looking at you with a puzzled look on his face. “Is that my shirt?”

You looked down at the black scoop neck tee you were wearing with a lazy but embarrassed smile. “Yeah, remember? When I spilled the tomato soup that your mom made all over my white blouse, and you gave me this top so I wouldn’t have red stains all over me?”

Tom laughed loudly at the memory, shaking his head. “Oh yeah. Still can’t believe you managed to dump an entire spoonful of tomato soup onto your shirt while you were serving it for yourself.”

“Oh hush, Holland,” you shoved him in between laughs.

The two of you were so tired at this point, that you both were doubled over in laughter. It took a good five minutes before you finally took control over your breathing, letting out a sigh. Tom followed suit, and looked over at you with the goofiest grin on his face. “Ah, y/n, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You turn your body towards him and gave a lazy smile in response. “Yep. And you love it.”

Tom hummed as he arched an eyebrow. “Okay, sure, Jan...”

“Holland, don’t use a meme on me right now,” you chuckled, giving him a light slap on his right shoulder. “Now let’s get some sleep before I pass out right now.”

“Whatever, y/l/n,” Tom teased as he pulled the covers up over his body.

You slid down into the sheets, not really knowing what much to do besides turn on your left side, having the covers tucked under your right arm. This was such a weird feeling. You sleeping in the same bed as Tom. Your best friend. You never thought you would be in this position, and the many times you had dreamed about it, it definitely was not because of the lack of rooms in the home.

“Y/n?” Tom whispered from behind you.

“Yeah, Tommy?” You asked, turning your body to face him.

“Can we... cuddle? I’m really cold right now,” Tom mumbled, heat rising to his cheeks.

You felt your own face grow hot at his words. “You, cold? That’s impossible,” you teased. “But yeah, I don’t mind.”

Tom grinned sleepily at your response as he pulled you close to his body, and you nearly gasped at the abrupt action. You quickly nuzzled into his neck, with your head resting on his chest and his left arm slung around your body. Your right arm was laying across his bare torso, your forearm grazing the sculpted abs that graced his beautiful body. Your legs were intertwined with his so naturally, it was as if it were normal.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tom yawned, a sleepy smile growing on his face.

“Night, Tommy,” you muttered into his neck, immediately dozing off in Tom’s safe arms.

tag list: @jillanaholland

[kiruuuuu]

Kapkan/Glaz oneshot in which Glaz implicitly makes a bet with Kapkan. (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~2k words) - You might’ve come across this snippet on my AO3 here, under 1.5! I’ve never posted it on tumblr before but as I’ve written a second part, I figured it’s easier to have both in the same place :) Enjoy!!

.

A whip crack resounding in the thick summer air, slicing through heavy humidity and echoing off in the distance. “You son of a wet noodle”, Glaz breathes softly and furrows his brows, squinting disapprovingly through the scope to find his target undisturbed, gently blowing in the wind.

“You curse like a girl”, Kapkan tells him without looking up from his small sculpture. It’s not entirely clear what it’s supposed to be, but if Glaz had to guess, he’d have said a mixture of Sledge and a tragically disabled aardvark. Kapkan has recently picked up the hobby of carving and is still in the honeymoon phase, as the rest of Spetsnaz likes to call it, meaning he genuinely believes it’s going to work out and refuses to accept any criticism. It usually lasts two weeks, then the five stages of grief begin until the Russian finds a new hobby and delves into it head first.

“Didn’t you hear Mira when she dropped Montagne’s shield on her foot?”, comes a laconic remark from the side, “Cursing like a girl is a compliment.” Tachanka lies poured onto a sun lounger, ironically so since he wishes nothing more than to escape the heat. The ice in his glass of water has long melted and normally he wouldn’t grace the younger operators with his presence at these temperatures, were it not for the remnants of the stink bomb that Smoke accidentally detonated in the base. Sun is easier to stomach than a stench so bad it made even Smoke himself gag.

“This shot is impossible.” Glaz sits up annoyed and searches for the scarf without the help of any magnification, doesn’t find it – unsurprisingly. Kapkan has tied it somewhere onto a tree and Glaz uses it as practise, though it seems Kapkan overestimated his abilities when he chose their spot earlier. They usually spend the afternoons together, only Fuze absent today.

“Nothing is impossible”, Kapkan objects and almost hacks off his middle finger. Watching him usually gives Glaz mini heart attacks. “You’re just not trying enough.”

His patience is waning. He’s been attempting the shot for almost an hour now, adjusting for wind and distance and whatnot, and is almost at the point where he declares defeat. He’s sweaty and hungry and the steady bitching from the old man and the irregular sounds of Kapkan chipping away at his abomination are getting to him. “Oh yeah?”, he snaps back without meaning to. “Why don’t you try it then?”

Astonishingly, Kapkan agrees. He shouldn’t, he’s always been terrible at sniping and it’ll be a wonder if he doesn’t take out Tachanka’s lukewarm water instead. “What’s the closest thing you’ve hit?”, he asks and drops his carving into the impressive pile of not-quite sawdust at his feet from which he might never rescue it again. Maybe that’s actually the plan.

“Trunk of the tree it’s tied to”, Glaz replies and doesn’t care that he’s pouting now. He dislikes being bested, often refuses to even allow for the chance – he knows Kapkan won’t make it, yet the mere thought of it is distasteful. He stands up and stretches his stiff legs, can’t suppress a yawn and gestures for his teammate to take his place behind his rifle.

“I don’t know why you’re even trying”, Tachanka mumbles what everyone’s thinking from behind his oversized sunglasses. He’s yet to move a muscle since he’s taken up post on the sunbed.

“Don’t underestimate me.” Kapkan wiggles his eyebrows at Glaz (who merely returns his gaze unamused) and lies down on the cool dirt floor. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt that flatters his toned arms and rides up a little while he’s making himself comfortable, exposing a pale strip of skin unmarred by the merciless sun. Glaz is not staring. He’s not.

“You’re not going to make it”, he points out and crosses his arms. No answer from Kapkan who’s lining up the shot. “If you make it, I will literally suck your dick.”

It’s a phrase that’s basically lost all meaning during the few weeks they’ve used it, Fuze overheard it from Mute maybe or Rook and turned it into the ultimate dare, the others adapting and jokingly repeating it every time one of them attempts anything vaguely impossible. So far, no one has managed. Glaz steals some of Tachanka’s water while Kapkan wastes the first bullet. It’s not going to happen now and in a few weeks they’ll start using a different inside joke and –

“You’d better come see this”, says Kapkan and there’s something in his voice that makes Glaz’ stomach drop abruptly. He almost spits out the water and wastes no time in joining his fellow countryman on the ground, pushing him out of the way and checking the scope. He realises too late that it’s going to be a prank that he fell for again, as he usually does, and that Kapkan will begin laughing at him any moment now. Only… no one is laughing.

There’s a hole in the scarf.

Glaz blinks, not comprehending what his eyes are telling him. He’s acutely aware of the uncomfortably warm body next to him and his own breathing and the innocent words he’s uttered without thinking. There’s no chance he’ll ever live this down. “You’re fucking kidding me”, he whispers because he can’t help himself.

“There you go, use grown-up swears.” Kapkan sounds highly amused. “You know what this means, right?”

“No way in hell did he make the shot”, Tachanka slurs from his deathbed.

“He fucking made the fucking shot.” Glaz is furious. Mostly at himself for not accomplishing what Kapkan managed first try.

“Ooh, sounds like someone needs to walk off the rage”, Kapkan continues teasing him while wearing a shit eating grin that does nothing to alleviate Glaz’ frustration. “We can go to the shed to get some water, I’m dying of thirst. Want us to refill your glass, ‘Chanka? It’s probably at a nice kiddie pool temperature at this point.”

“With less piss”, is Tachanka’s only reply and so Kapkan takes it, pours the water into the nearest bush and repeats meaningfully: “ ‘Less.’ ”

They walk back to ‘the shed’, a tiny hut in the woods not far from the base containing various tools, chairs and a sink with running water that’s pleasantly cool even in this season. “I can’t believe you made it”, Glaz grumbles on the way, shaking his head. “How did you even – you couldn’t have –”

“But I did, and isn’t that a shame.” Kapkan holds the door open for him and if nothing else has made Glaz suspicious until now, this gesture undoubtedly should. His alarm bells should be going off full force. Yet all he does is ponder the impossibility of Kapkan’s feat, whether he’s made any glaring mistakes himself, whether he should take apart his sniper rifle to find the reason. “Do you want to get it over with right away?”

His thoughts grind to a halt. He stops. Turns towards Kapkan and finds the door to the tiny building shut and the Russian frightfully close to him. “What -” His voice breaks, he averts his gaze, tries again. “What are you talking about?”

“You said it yourself. You can’t back off now. A deal’s a deal.” Kapkan sounds reasonable, which is the worst thing about it, he’s reassuring him and makes the outrageous demand seem sensible.

“You’re not serious.” The I hope is implied though Glaz can’t bring himself to voicing it. His thighs are growing weaker by the second. This is another joke. It has to be.

“I’m deadly serious”, says Kapkan and he does seem sincere – though he’s an excellent liar when he wants to be. “You’re not one to shun a challenge, are you?”

He pictures it. For one glorious second, he toys with the idea of just yanking down Kapkan’s pants right here and is overcome with a heat wave not only induced by the stuffy air in the shed. “I didn’t mean it”, he insists, “you’re pulling my leg, you know I didn’t mean it, don’t be so…”

“If you really want to do it, you’d better get on your knees.” Kapkan is entirely unbothered by his words, smirking and placing a hand on Glaz’ shoulder, but what really constitutes the last straw is that his thumb brushes over Glaz’ collarbone in a gesture that is entirely too familiar and, most of all, suggestive. He opens his mouth to protest and doesn’t expect the push and his legs buckle and suddenly he’s kneeling on the dusty floorboards, his eyes level with Kapkan’s belt.

Okay. Sure. He can salvage this. His dignity has only suffered a little. Kapkan doesn’t know Glaz is half-hard right now and in this position he’s not going to find out either. Convenient, really. “I’m not going to suck you off.” He enunciates each word clearly in case Kapkan decides to be hard of hearing all of a sudden. “You’re being ridiculous. Where is this even coming from?”

“Look, do you want me to tell everyone that you never really did Sledge’s dare? Huh? I’ve kept quiet as a favour but I could -”

This is when Glaz understands. Kapkan facetiously blackmails people all the time, threatens to enlighten the world about Fuze’s showering habits if he doesn’t stop stealing his food, tells Smoke he’s going to expose his contraband hiding spots whenever he refuses to cease his current shenanigans (which is always), it happens a lot. What most people don’t know: Kapkan is usually not joking. Not really.

Just like he isn’t now.

Their gazes are locked, Kapkan’s considerably less confident than a few seconds ago, he must’ve realised his blunder, must know he’s betrayed himself. He’s looking down at Glaz like a trapped animal, ready to lash out or flee and chooses the second option, switches to the first when Glaz instinctively reaches out and grabs his trouser leg, keeps him in place. They scuffle briefly and hardly with any force behind it and somehow Kapkan loses balance and stumbles and one of his hands lands on the back of Glaz’ head and the next thing he knows is that his face is pressed into Kapkan’s crotch.

All he can think is: Oh.

Because there’s something quite obvious denting his cheek.

The door flies open. “You almost hit me holy shit what are you two doing?!” That voice unmistakably belongs to Fuze who’s standing in the doorway in casual clothing plus a handgun by his side and looking like he just ran a marathon, of which Glaz takes note after Kapkan panics and shoves him away so he’s again able to see something other than the seam of Kapkan’s trousers. To his knowledge, Fuze is supposed to be somewhere completely different while dressed completely different.

You almost hit me. Fuze has a gun for no apparently reason. Together with the guilty and fantastically sheepish look on Kapkan’s face, it’s easy to connect the dots, so Glaz starts laughing. Fuze looks utterly lost by now. “You didn’t fucking make the shot”, Glaz wheezes and would double over if he was standing. He’s dying to know how Kapkan managed to convince Fuze for his participation. It’s an impressively elaborate plan just to coerce him into doing something he would’ve done voluntarily and might’ve done regardless hadn’t Kapkan wounded Glaz’ brittle pride with the claim of sniping better than him.

He can hardly stop giggling, especially when faced with Kapkan’s stony face and the mumbled “let’s never talk about this again, alright?” and Fuze’s dumb ignorant expression. They gather a few chairs, fill up water bottles and Tachanka’s glass and refuse to answer any of Fuze’s increasingly irritated questions.

When they’re about done, Glaz turns to Kapkan and tells him with a bright smile: “You could’ve just asked, you know?” Leaving him to figure out what to do with that information, he steps out of the hut into the sweltering sunshine.

[prorevenge]

1 & 20 Years Paying the Bitch Back

Buckle up. It’s a long ride with a pleasant finish.

Some time back I was hired to a company by a CEO I had previously worked for someplace else. He was a good friend so when his newest company wasn’t achieving sales, he headhunted me to join the new one.

The company hadn’t made a sale in two years. Year one the software product was in beta so it wasn’t ready to be sold. Year two they realized using the tech staff to make high end sales to C-level executives was the shittiest sales model one could conceptualize. In general, and there are exceptions of course, these two personality styles don’t speak the same language. Tech people talk tech. Buyers talk benefits and how the potential product fills needs. I bridge the gap well by translating tech-speak into natural conversational language so buyers better understand how their needs will be filled.

The job was an hour and a half drive one-way from my home so the CEO said I could work from home as long as I kept the sales management tool current (it’s where you keep the notes of each prospect’s status), came to important meetings and made sure the executive team had daily sales reports.

The first month I made the daily 3 hour commute because I needed to have solid, constant interaction with all the departments to rapidly form my sales strategy and develop a two-way confidence level with the section heads.

Once I had a handle on things, I was ready to launch my sales plan. In the meantime, the CEO hired a VP of Sales (bitchboss) who started 4 days before I hit the ground running to get in front of buyers.

She was a VP coming from the banking industry and had a long career in sales and marketing in finance products. I hated her from the moment she arrived. She knew fuck all about tech and I spent huge time trying to orient her which wasn’t ideal because I needed to work on my sales strategy. They brought her onboard because she had strong experience gaining financial investors.

Nevertheless, I forged ahead. Traveled to a target state and spent 19 days criss crossing it. When I came back I had 17 contracts from buyers totaling about $2M in sales. My CEO was overjoyed.

Fast forward six months and now working from home, I’m rocking and rolling. Sales are strong. CEO is happy. Good things are happening.

Bitchboss has landed an investor willing to drop $6M into the company, and they are coming into town for a discovery meeting. She asks me to drive up because they specifically want to meet the salesperson. Seconds before walking in the door for the big meeting, bitchboss pulls me aside and says she needs me to back her up on lie she has told them. Basically she doubled my sales numbers. I told her there was no way I was going to do that. She says the CEO has okayed the lie.

We get to the part in the talk where the investor is looking over my inflated sales numbers on the prospectus, then directly asks me how many sales I’m making a month. Bitchboss is behind him waving her arms but I was having none of it and answered truthfully. He looks askance staring at the document which has the false number listed, while she’s giving me the stink eye behind him.

No one says a word. Dead silence.

I ask to see the document and fates have aligned allowing me to solve the dilemma. I explain the first two numbers were transposed (they correlated well to my real sales versus inflated sales if you flip-flopped the first two digits.) Potential investor is satisfied and we move on.

Switch gears. About a week later I was meeting with the CIO in his office and he referred to my “big tits.” I’m no shrinking violet but it stunned me because it was so unexpected.

That night I was chatting with my BFF who happens to be a lawyer and told him about it in casual conversation. He said I should tell the CEO so he can address it. Thinking along smart business practices, I decide to tell bitchboss to whom I directly report as proper protocol since we don’t have a HR dept yet. Side note-I also reported directly to CIO as a boss since my role was a muddy mix of sales and tech.

The next day CEO calls me and I take him through it telling him it’s no big deal but to make sure he talked to CIO so it didn’t happen again. He says he’ll do it right away.

Two days later I check in with him and CEO still hadn’t talked to CIO because the investors were in town. I gently push him to get it done and casually mention my best friend who happened to be a lawyer was the one who urged me tell him because “any good CEO would want to know about it.” I reiterate I’m not mad or upset.

The only word he heard was “lawyer.”

He went apeshit that I was bringing a lawyer into the mix. Now this guy was my good friend. We’d worked together at two companies for years. I calmed him down (or so I thought,) explaining that I only wanted him to talk to CIO. I also told him I HADN’T brought a lawyer into it, that I had been innocently chatting with BFF who just happens to be a criminal defense attorney. He seemed okay and we hung up.

The next day I’m working as usual and I get a call from an attorney who explains the company has hired her regarding my sexual harassment claim. I’m flummoxed and adamantly told her that was not the case, that I had no claim against the company. She said otherwise.

And that’s when everything changed. Dramatically.

CEO was furious with me for bringing this on when investors were looking at us. His reaction set the tone which filtered down. The company began to retaliate against me. Bitchboss now made it her mission to make my life hell: “forgetting” to tell me about important meetings I was supposed to attend, freezing me out when I was in the office, telling me I could no longer even speak to CIO (a problem since I’m selling a multi-million dollar tech product needing his input AND I directly reported to him as my other boss), denying me a long planned, approved vacation, basically anything she could devise to screw me over-she was gleefully working it.

Coinciding with this was a serious health problem I developed ultimately requiring surgery. My illness had no impact on my work as I was able to work from home which made things easier on me health wise. Bitchboss then decided that I need to come to the office every day despite a 3 hour round trip commute.

Now I know you’re thinking why didn’t I just leave, get another job somewhere else...

I needed the health insurance. There was no way to turn around another job fast enough and I had a complex surgery scheduled requiring 3 surgeons for my procedure.

My doctor gave me a note for them which released me from having to make the daily commute so I could continue to work at home. As long as my work didn’t suffer, they legally couldn’t force me to commute especially since working from home was a part of my employment contract from the outset.

The night before my surgery, bitchboss calls to tell me they’ve cancelled my health insurance. After hanging up with bitchboss I collapsed on the floor in a faint. I was so, so, so sick, and mentally exhausted from all the stress.

The next morning the CEO frantically calls asking to talk to me. My mom refuses to let him. I’m on official leave as of that morning and we’re heading to the hospital. CEO had told their lawyer about canceling my health insurance and she chewed him a new asshole telling him it was illegal. They immediately reinstated my insurance.

In the two weeks I was out, my mom had found a lawyer for me as it was clear shenanigans were going on. I still needed them as an employer because I was in no shape to rigorously job hunt while recovering.

Turns out all the bullshit they were doing to me is illegal. Companies aren’t allowed to retaliate against employees when they report nefarious acts against them.

I met with my new lawyer who said I had an excellent claim for retaliation and took me on. He said I had to continue working there while he did his thing to stay within protocol while he filed the EEOC claim.

Now it’s time for me to return to work. The company had relocated (planned) during my absence and bitchboss refused to tell me where so I couldn’t come back to work. Company lawyer told them they HAD to tell me so bitchboss gives me wrong directions making me late on day one.

I walk in the new office and it looks like any other place except for one thing. There is a wide open area directly in front of the CEO’s glass office with a single desk in the middle of it. Welcome to my new desk.

Also, I wasn’t allowed to do sales anymore. In fact, I wasn’t allowed to do anything, at all, period.

They had hired a bunch of new people to the company and they treated me like a pariah. Turns out bitchboss had gone to them telling a pack of lies and if they know what’s good for them they’ll stay away.

Since I had nothing to do but couldn’t just sit there looking like a dope, I worked on documenting everything being done to me per my lawyer’s advice. I was meticulous in my note taking.

Bitchboss began writing me up. Stupid stuff like not answering my phone on the first ring and for asking questions during company wide meetings, asking to see my personnel file which employees are legally entitled to do although not entitled to photocopy any of it.

Each time she wrote me up, I had to sign the write up. There was a space for me to reply to it so I consistently wrote, “I do not agree with this assessment.” It infuriated her so much, she wrote me up again for writing the statement that I didn’t agree with it.

There were several instances where she called me into her office and literally began screaming at me loudly and enthusiastically. I wouldn’t engage though; my standard answer to everything was OK which made her apoplectic. At one point, she’s inches from my face screaming, her face beet red and I just sat there with a dreamy expression whilst envisioning her blowing a vein in her head stroking out. I infuriated her with my equanimity.

Still and all, I was in it to win it at this point. It didn’t matter what new humiliation they dished out. I took it all with a bland face, then went to my desk and documented it in my notebook.

She loathed my notebook, sure that I was doing exactly what I was doing. Documenting. Because it was my personal property though, she couldn’t take it from me. I had to carry all my belongings with me everywhere (company wide meetings, the bathroom, lunch) because I caught her one time going through my desk drawer....in my fucking purse!!!!! (Although it gave me great joy to write a note reading “fuck you” which I left in my backpack and jerry rigging it so I could tell if she went into it...which she did.)

I withstood it all with a brave face only breaking down once I left for the day. My attorney took a lot of sobbing phone calls during this period.

Finally the day comes that my attorney has what he needs and I can resign, better still, he advises I don’t have to give a two week notice. I come back from lunch and type up my letter with one sentence, “I resign immediately.” I take it into the HR guy (who also took part in their evil machinations) and hand it to him. His mouth forms an O shape and he half stands up from his chair as he reads it. He looks up and I give him a smile and say bye bye just as sweet as pie, walked out the door and drove home feeling mighty fine.

One month later, my lawyer and I are at the EEOC office along with the CEO, bitchboss and their lawyer so the EEOC can review my claim.

In my state, you can’t just bring a lawsuit against a company for things like harassment and retaliation. Claims must first be evaluated by the EEOC, and then if they determine you have enough grounds to file a lawsuit, they issue a Right to Sue document.

My lawyer presented my case logically and forthright detailing all the evidence. It took him 40 minutes to go through it all. Then they presented their side with allegations of my poor employment along with their “evidence” which were all the copious write ups bitchboss had written. EEOC asks about the timeline of the write ups inquiring if they before or after my claim occurred. Bitchboss wearing a smug self-satisfied smile states they were all prior to my claim as noted by the dates on each document.

EEOC Lady looks at my lawyer. My lawyer looks at me. I look at bitchboss then serenely pull out MY photocopies of the documents. Whilst handing them to EEOC lady, bitchboss barks “she’s not supposed to have those, they’re company property.” I show EEOC lady that the dates have clearly been altered by Bitchboss. (She had made copies with the dates blanked out then backdated them.)

You see whenever she wrote me up, I had to take the document personally to the CEO to put in my personnel file. Along the way though, I stopped at the copier and took copies. She never knew I was doing this.

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

EEOC Lady reviews the copies then slowly sets them on the table. She didn’t say a thing for a long time, then she spoke. I can remember her words exactly to this day.

“I’ve seen a lot of ill treatment and illegal undertakings by both employees and employers, including forged or altered documents, but I have never see someone so incredibly stupid to present documents this easily disproved. Not only are employees entitled to receive and keep a copy of formal write ups but reading these ridiculous allegations, it’s obvious you are trying to manufacture your case.”

She went on to say I had a clear case for a lawsuit, and moreover I would win it. She recommended their side go in another room and determine a settlement amount to pay me immediately or risk the lawsuit.

They went to a nearby office and I could hear the lawyer dressing them down. Words I heard included “lied to me” “lied to EEOC” “presenting false documents” “broke so many laws” “figure out a number big enough to pay her so this doesn’t go to court because you will lose.”

They came back with a $50k offer which we accepted. My lawyer and I left then did a football touchdown dance in the parking lot. Looking up at the EEOC window, I could see bitchboss in the window looking miserable and crying.

She had just been fired.

That was my year 1 revenge.

I’m not a hateful person. I get mad and get over it. But... for bitchboss, I nurtured hatred and vowed to one day get revenge, so I kept tabs on her, and discovered she opened a finance marketing company after she was fired. Then I waited a year before exacting my petty delight.

For the past 18 years, I’ve executed a wonderful, soul-refreshing project. Each year I go to her website and write down all the work email addresses and phone numbers for the employees. Then I subscribe them all to “get more information” from places like online schools, online insurance companies-all those bullshit aggressive organizations that keep your contact information longer than a gypsy fucking curse while trying to sell you stuff.

The last few years, I’ve subscribed them to an email bomb service where the service takes the address and instantly subscribes it to 1000s of newsletters, request for more information feeds and other online buyers of email addresses for marketing services. I tested it with a burner email and it wreaks havoc on your inbox with thousands of emails received within seconds, and they never.... fucking... stop....

You literally have to close down the email because it can’t be salvaged. Each year when I go to collect the contact information, all the emails have been changed to new ones.

Last year my cousin took a job in the same building. I enlisted her help and she made it a point to befriend a receptionist working for bitchboss. After executing my yearly plan, my cousin went to lunch with her. The receptionist was in a foul mood and explained the entire organization was in disarray because IT had to redo all the emails again. “It keeps happening over and over and nobody can figure out why.”

She said the owner (bitchboss) has had to get her cell phone number replaced 3 times because of all the texts and phone calls she gets whenever it happens again. (sometimes bitchboss would have her phone number on the website which I duly subscribed to everything under the sun.)

The best part for me was hearing how she lost a mega client because they felt the company was in too much turmoil so often.

The thought of this keeps me warm and cozy at night, and I sleep so very, very well.

(source) story by (/u/digitalgirlie)

[svt-writers-club]

... okay I lied. This is the last one heh. Ask games #5: 13,17 for Jicheol in Nanny AU

guys, just know that i literally beg soojin to send me asks so you guys should do her a favour and check out her blog if you’re caratarmy or just, also, have an obsession with jimin like most of the world (he’s not my bias but i too have a bit of an obsession with park jimin and that’s just a part of life)

#13: “Choose. Piggyback or princess carry.”

#17: “Dammit! I should’ve snapped a picture!”

It’s a week before the end of the summer holidays that Jihoon finally manages to get the whole Choi family together for a picnic at Han River. Between Seungcheol and Jisoo busying themselves with a new play, Wonwoo and his part-time job at the music shop (it had been a long argument between Seungcheol and Jihoon – between Seungcheol keeping his eldest son at home and pampered like the trust fund baby he is versus Jihoon’s practical views about teaching the young man the importance of earning his own money… and also getting Wonwoo out of the house sometimes so he can have his own personal time), Mingyu with his basketball team (a team he only joined to get closer to his new crush but ended up being pretty good at it) and Hansol with his piano lessons, it’s been hard to get all four Chois in the house at the same time.

Honestly, Jihoon is impressed he managed to pull it off. And he didn’t even pack any wine this time. (Jeonghan made a strong case for it, though, but Jihoon doubts there’ll be any shenanigans happening on this trip. It’s just a picnic, for god’s sake. What’s the worst that could happen?)

Well, not even Jihoon could have predicted that big dog bowling him over honestly.

When he says big dog, he means big. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought it was actually a small horse that pounced on him and slobbered all over his new shirt. (It’s not like he bought the shirt just to impress Seungcheol or whatever – don’t be ridiculous. Lee Jihoon does not have the hots for his boss.)

“Oh my god – I’m so sorry!” the dog owner cries out. Running behind the wolf-dog is a guy that looks like he’s barely out of high school.

He’s half a head shorter than Jihoon, which is why he isn’t surprised she lost control of the beast. At this rate, he’s convinced it’s mostly wolf. His dog’s leash is dangling from his hand, the end of it frayed from where it had given under the veritable strength of the wolf-dog currently sitting on Jihoon’s ribcage.

“It’s fine,” he wants to say.

Instead, all he manages to come up with is a warbled, confused, “Eh?” He sounds vaguely like a beached whale.

“Holy shit,” someone laughs, somewhere above Jihoon’s head. He thinks it might be Jeonghan. Jeonghan, who’s laughing at him a little. Honestly, fuck Jeonghan.

“Dino, down!” the kid cries, physically lifting the wolf-dog off Jihoon’s chest. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, damn.

Finally, Jihoon feels like he can breathe normally, although his head feels fuzzy. The weight lifted off his chest is a relief, but it only brings all his aches and bruises in sharp relief.

“That’s a hell of a dog,” Jihoon croaks, sitting up gingerly.

The kid literally holding the wolfhound from slobbering all over Jihoon grins sheepishly. “She’s usually better behaved, but it’s been a week since I got to walk her…” The kid blinks, holding out a hand to help Jihoon up, because he’s still lying on the pavement like a dumbass. “I’m Chan.”

“Jihoon.” He bites back an amused smile. It’s not every day you meet a guy by having his dog run you over. “After-school walk, huh?”

“School?” Chan lets out a surprised laugh. “I’m thirty-two. I’m way over school.”

Jihoon flushes, trying his best not to sputter as he does a double take. In the loose jeans and hoodie, Chan looks like a regular college student. Maybe Jihoon spends way too much time around kids if he can’t even tell the difference between a teenager and someone who’s only five years younger than him.

He accepts the proffered hand. “You look a lot young – ack!”

Jihoon stumbles forward, almost bodily slamming into Chan as his ankle buckles under him. He’s lucky Chan is a lot stronger than he looks, or he’d be flat on the ground again.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks, lips pursed in worry as he steadies Jihoon.

“I’m…” Jihoon trails off as he gingerly applies weight on his right ankle. He lets out a hiss as pain travels up his leg. “Ah, fuck.”

Dino is an exceptionally good wolf-dog, because she doesn’t go around trying to tackle other unsuspecting characters. She does, however, sniff Jihoon’s ankle and proceed to cover her snout in shame. She even lets out a little whine. Cute little bastard.

“Puppy!” Hansol exclaims.

Jihoon turns and sure enough, there Hansol is, tugging on his dad’s hand impatiently.

And, of course, there Seungcheol is, looking stupidly handsome and – and concerned, in his denim shorts that show off muscled calves and a black t-shirt that clings to Seungcheol’s broad shoulders.

Jihoon definitely does not have a thing for his boss.

“That’s not a puppy. It’s bigger than you,” Mingyu sighs, all sassy and long-suffering at the age of sixteen. He eyes Jihoon critically, melted ice cream making sticky rivulets along his fingers as he holds out his ice cream.

Wonwoo meanders behind, his eyes covered by his expensive sunglasses so Jihoon can’t figure out what he’s thinking.

“Getting friendly with the dog walkers, hyung?” Wonwoo calls out, pulling his shades down low so Jihoon can see the disapproving look he’s shooting him.

“Don’t be rude, brat,” Jihoon retorts, but he feels a telltale heat creeping up his neck. He is inappropriately close to Chan – a literal stranger – but he really doesn’t want to faceplant on the pavement. (Especially not with Seungcheol watching…)

Jihoon turns to Jeonghan, but he has the brim of his cap over his eyes, arms crossed. He looks like he’s napping, which is pretty much the only time he’s not causing trouble. Jihoon could’ve sworn the butler was awake a minute ago, though…

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asks, eyes flickering between Chan and Jihoon.

He has a hand on Jihoon’s elbow, almost possessively. It’s a strange feeling; Jihoon standing in the middle of Hangang Park with a strange man’s arm around his waist and his boss’ possessive hand on his elbow. Maybe he knocked his head on the way down.

“I’m fine,” Jihoon says. Unfortunately, he voids his statement by wincing when he attempts to put weight on his injured ankle.

“I think Jihoon-ssi might have hurt his ankle,” Chan pipes up. “I’d love to bring him to a clinic, but I have an, uh, an appointment to get to.” He shoots Jihoon a warm smile. “I’m really sorry about Dino. She usually only bowls over cute guys.”

Jihoon sputters at that, ears absolutely burning red as Chan winks at him before grabbing Dino by the collar and muscling the giant dog away. Jihoon’s just about to take a step towards that brat and shake his fist at him, but his ankle twitches and all he can manage to say is, “Oh, shit – ”

Before he can eat concrete, there’s a strong arm around his waist and his face is mashed into a broad chest. He swallows down a squeak, hands spread out in front of him so they’re resting on Seungcheol’s stomach.

Seungcheol, damn him, is grinning down at Jihoon with eyes that are honest-to-god sparkling. “Can’t have you falling for me now,” he jokes.

“I would never,” Jihoon sputters indignantly. His fingers curl into the soft fabric of Seungcheol’s shirt. He breathes in deeply (the scent of honey and expensive cologne teases his nose) and lets out a frustrated noise. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“You should kiss him better,” Jeonghan hollers.

Jihoon turns to shoot his friend a dark glare. Jeonghan clearly wasn’t napping; he just wanted to watch Jihoon make a complete and utter fool of himself.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says sharply. There’s a pink blush spreading across his cheekbones and he can’t seem to look Jihoon in the eye.

It’s okay, Jihoon tells himself. He shouldn’t want Seungcheol to find him attractive anyway. He definitely does not want Seungcheol to find him attractive. Not even a little bit. (Maybe a little bit – just a smidge!)

“It’s okay,” Jihoon protests, pushing Seungcheol back even thought it’s actually really nice being in his arms. “I can just... hobble over to the first aid centre?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Seungcheol sighs, a fond smile playing on his pink lips. “I can walk you there.”

“I’m fine,” Jihoon insists stubbornly. He tries – stupidly – to walk on his bad ankle again and nearly goes down. It’s only Seungcheol’s proximity and Jihoon’s reflexes that saves him from a broken nose.

“Choose. Piggyback or princess carry.”

“Seungcheol-ssi!” Jihoon says hotly. His ears are definitely red. “I’m – that’s not – ”

“Princess carry it is, then.”

Jihoon doesn’t even have the time to kick up a proper protest before he’s swept off his feet. He lets out a yell, throwing his arms around Seungcheol’s neck just so he doesn’t go flying.

Their faces are unbearably close. Jihoon can make out every single individual hair on Seungcheol’s lashes. He’s probably breathing a little heavily onto Seungcheol’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Seungcheol actually has the gall to smirk. Jihoon’s tempted to throw himself into the river just to get away from his infuriatingly handsome boss.

“Well, if I’d known carrying you would make you a lot more agreeable, I’d have done it sooner.”

“If you try this again, I’ll chop you in the neck.”

Seungcheol chuckles, even though Jihoon is a hundred percent serious. As Seungcheol makes his way over to the first aid centre, Jihoon has to admit that the princess carry is a lot more comfortable than the piggyback.

“You’re a lot lighter than you imagined,” Seungcheol comments.

Jihoon shoots him a mulish look. “Are you telling me you think I’m fat?”

“I’m just wondering where you keep all that food you put away,” Seungcheol replies hastily, stumbling over his words a little.

“You’ll never know,” Jihoon sniffs. He definitely doesn’t try and burrow closer. (Savour it while it lasts, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Soonyoung whispers in his mind. It’s still not a crush, though. Nope, definitely not.)

“Dammit!” Jeonghan says five minutes later, covering Hansol’s ears. “I should’ve snapped a picture!”

Wonwoo sighs heavily. “Hyung,” he says gravely, “you’re a dumbass.”

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

[mishydraws]

Why Keith’s Papa is Still Alive: A Conspiracy Theory (let me have this, ok)

Alright I am in full denial so buckle in for this wild ride. I’m not buying that Papa Kogane (we’ll call him Tex) is actually Dead‬

Here’s why: I don’t trust the Galaxy Garrison as far as I can throw them

‪We already know that the GG has a history of covering up any alien business (Kerberos mission? Pilot error? Everyone dead? Pfffft. We know Pidge broke in and found no evidence of a crash. They lied).‬

‪Then Shiro crash lands back on earth unexpectedly. Their missing legendary pilot has returned and the first thing they do is strap him to a table and sedate him for research and further experimentation on his mysterious alien prosthetic. Sketchy.‬

‪Anyways I think they probably know there’s Something out there as far as aliens go but they don’t want the general public to know about it judging from the Kerberos cover up.‬

‪Now what does this have to do with Tex? He housed an alien for at least a solid year or 2. Long enough for him and Krolia to mutually fall in love and for her to have his baby so they’ve got some time there.‬

Unrelated side note: Tex & Krolia are hot they can both step on me bye

‪Tex mentions the possibility of going to the Garrison when he and Krolia find the blue lion convinced and confident that they can help so he sounds familiar with them. Maybe he works there?‬

‪It’s p much confirmed that he’s a firefighter (he has a fireman’s jacket and axe) so maybe the GG have their own fire dept to cover their butts since they’re located in the middle of the desert.‬

But during Krolia’s time on earth, you’ve gotta admit it wasn’t exactly subtle. She crash lands in the middle of the night, there’s fire... she’s just lucky Tex got to her first. And what did they even do with the wreckage afterwards?‬

That’s some pretty big evidence to leave behind. But then when the next wave of Galra soldiers come snooping for the Blue Lion after Keith is born, again they blow up a bunch of Galra ships (one of which had already taken flight so it would’ve been pretty darn visible in the sky I’d think)‬

‪Now if we assume that Tex is very familiar with the Garrison and possibly works for them, he’s gotta live close enough to them for a regular commute to be feasible. Sure he has his hoverbike and no traffic but still. Who wants to build their house 100’s of miles away from work 1 way.‬

What I’m getting at is all of these very Not Subtle things happened right around his property and he’s probably not THAT far away from the Garrison to begin with.‬

‪Krolia returns to space not long after the last explosions so what if after that, the Garrison starts keeping an eye on Tex, their suspicions raised. They see him  raising a son. Not all that suspicious. I doubt him legit hooking up with an alien is the first thing that crosses their‬ minds (but to be fair they didn’t actually see Krolia so they have no idea what a milf she actually is but ANYWAYS......)‬

Fast forward maybe 8-10 years of them snooping around, testing samples, finding evidence, biding their time (again wtf happened to all the Galra ship remains) and finally the Garrison is convinced Tex knows‬ something and isn’t telling them and they can’t just have this guy running around with alien knowledge when we already know they go to great lengths to cover that ish up.‬

So they pull some shit and fake his death because they know that whatever is going on, he knows Too Much but they can’t ACTUALLY whack him cuz he does have knowledge that could be valuable to them. Might as well keep him under lock and key so at the very least they can contain it and make sure he doesn’t go leaking alien info to the public which, again, we know the GG does not want.‬

Now hear me out. What if they burned his house down (I’m convinced Keith’s shack is just the secondary building next to the original house with some additional renovations done to it at some point but the house is clearly gone in episode 1 so what happened to it huh 🔥🔥🔥‬

And the fire is the story that gets told to Keith who was probs at school or smth at the time

There’s a possibility they could’ve just said he died on the job but I do still wonder what happened to the house then..‬

But either way if we go with this then 8-10 year old Keith never actually saw a body. And the GG isn’t interested in Keith cuz he’s just a kid. If the kid knew something don’t you think he would’ve gone blabbing about it by now as kids do?‬

But if Tex was one of their own firemen maybe the Garrison offered to take care of the funeral arrangements for a proper burial (this would explain how a whole plot and headstone was paid for since obviously 8-10 year old Keith couldn’t do it.‬

‪And it’s doubtful any other family members were around for it cuz if there HAD been other family, Keith would’ve likely gone to live with them instead of at “the home” as he mentioned to pre-Kerb Shiro‬

We know in canon the paladins are all headed back to earth. What if they get there and somewhere along the way they discover Tex locked up in the GG basement or something. The GG is a big military-like base so I’m sure they have all kinds of places hidden away and off limits.‬

Places to hide things. 

LIKE KEITH’S DAD WHO HAS BEEN THERE THE WHOLE TIME RIGHT UNDER KEITH’S NOSE ALL BECAUSE KROLIA SET OFF A CHAIN OF EVENTS WITH HER ARRIVAL AND THEN LEFT TO HELP KEEP THEM SAFE BUT LITTLE DID SHE KNOW THE GG RIGHT NEXT DOOR IS WHAT HE’D REALLY NEED TO BE SAVED FROM ALL ALONG

And then y’know they rescue him Voltron saves the day yadda yadda yadda this family FINALLY gets the happily ever after they deserve reunited with the addition of a space wolf and also a Shiro the end‬

EDIT: Just adding onto this cuz I was thinking and just wanna clarify that although my natural bias for Keef’s dad obviously shows (A Good Man, he is) I don’t necessarily think the Garrison is inherently ~eViL~

I think they have their own agenda and priorities. They don’t want to cause a worldwide panic so of course they would cover up any hints of alien shenanigans. But in following that priority I could see them doing some questionable things in order to fulfill it. Y’know. All for peace and the greater good and all that 👽

[miraclerizuin]

good evening, void!!

I am often hesitant to post things because I am worried about being “annoying” here on my own blog which is nothing more or less than a box full of stuff I like, and that’s ridiculous, I will be annoying if I wish

and I sure do have 20 pages of notes on my spn everybody lives family fic so.  buckle the fuck up

the premise began with this idea:

Spn AU of the day: everything is almost the same but Sam and Dean have been collecting orphans like they’re Batman since at least s5 

then I spent several days thinking about this quietly in a corner at work while cutting out paper hearts for a valentine’s day craft and I messaged a bunch of stuff to my friend who does not spn at all except to enable my AU shenanigans and what became clear to me is

Every single stupid plot on this show is improved by adding half a dozen adopted children

So as you may or may not recall, Jesse is the half demon antichrist child from 1 episode of season 5

As the writers of spn undoubtedly were aware, it would fuck up the plot of s5 royally to have a being this powerful in the mix, so they removed him from play

I did this entire twitter thread about how jesse turner could reconnect with dean in the interim of seasons 5 and 6 and you can read that here

so let’s move right straight on to season 7.  we gotta get to the good stuff

in canon, Cas is Officially Dead, while Dean & Sam are on the run from leviathans

Jesse gets some of his powers back bc I think he should and I don’t want to wait til s11 or whenever Lucifer gets out of hell properly. My handwave is that Sam’s escape from hell brings a fragment of Lucifer’s power to earth and thus restored a fragment of jesse’s powers

Jesse starts to realize the firebending is back on but doesn’t tell Dean & Sam bc he doesn’t want to worry them…

but then they meet (& kill) Sam’s childhood friend Amy

And Jesse is like “hahaha NO we are not killing this random lady, idc if she’s a monster, she has a kid to take care of” and just sorta. Unkills her

And of course doesn’t mention it at first

until a couple weeks later when Sam finds out Dean killed amy (he did it behind sams back) and they’re arguing abt it

and Jesse is like GUYS ITS FINE she’s not really dead.

So Dean and Sam are now freaking out that a. Jesse has powers again, b. Jesse can bring people back from the dead which never ends well, and c. Sam’s friend, whom Dean considers a dangerous monster, is alive.

Sam is like yah peace out guys I’m going to visit Amy to make sure she’s ok and Dean you are NOT invited

He eventually makes up with dean at jesse’s insistence but stays in touch with Amy which dean decides to tolerate on the premise that Sam is “keeping an eye on her”

bc Dean rewrites reality in his own head to suit his narrative and that’s never failed him before!

And Jesse becomes friends with Amy’s son Jacob

Jesse has some Mommy Issues on account of that time he found out his biological mother was possessed by a demon when she gave birth to him. So he’s like “no we do not kill ppls moms!!!”

as long as we’re here in early season 7 with this episode where Jo comes back as a ghost... I see no reason why Jesse can’t simply resurrect Jo too

sure is handy to have a kid around who can alter the fabric of reality!  hope that doesn’t backfire...

& just to add, bc I feel weird not talking about cas very much, jesse and cas had a few opportunities to chat during season 6 and have mostly moved past the “you tried to kill me so I turned you into an action figure” thing but jesse is not super thrilled about the “you lied to my dad who loves you very much” thing now

henry says thanks 4 reading xx

[ryanjtrimble]

The Boxcar Kids

Reading time: 10 minutes

A new gang of artists, armed with gall and heart and tools from Harbor Freight, threatens to diversify Provo, Utah, with fine art, artisan coffee, haircuts, tattoos, and community events. They’ve taken over the tired midcentury building located at 156 West 500 South and have turned it into a parlor of sorts, a source of golden light and autumnal galas and monthly Drink and Draws with nude models. They call the place The Boxcar Studios.

The Boxcar Studios opened twelve months ago, unofficially. Jake Buntjer—father, photographer, found art sculptor, and now community organizer—founded Boxcar when he acquired the building on a bargain lease. Inspired by Corey Fox, owner of Velour and godfather to Utah Valley’s music scene, Buntjer set out to create a marketplace and community for fine artists and their patrons. “I knew in my gut,” says Buntjer, “if I could acquire this space, if I could create the opportunity for myself and then share it with other people, that we could hook dreams. And if I hooked a dream with somebody and they hooked with me, then we could hook more dreams together and create an ecosystem that benefitted everybody.” Boxcar has since endured on Buntjer’s vision, enlisting artists’ faith and gumption and gristle from volunteers. On any given day at the Boxcar, Millennials and Gen-Xers can be found rewiring electrical circuitry, plumbing new pipes, nailing up reclaimed boards, or painting walls. On weekends you’ll find art shows, musical performances, mingles, and costume parties. This February you can attend a private carnival for $50, which includes live music by Timmy the Teeth, premium cocktails, fire dancers, contortionists, stilt walkers, and whatever shenanigans might ensue in such an environment. In recent months, Boxcar has hosted Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s gatherings, providing a free space for friends and community members to gather for drink and food.

Seven artist studios flank the rear of the Boxcar, while three shops comprise the storefront—Revolución Barbershop & Co., Man in the Moon Mercantile & Reclamation, and Rugged Grounds, a coffeehouse. Azure paint adorns the building’s face, corrugated steel roofing runs down its west side. Out front, on a crumbly sidewalk, a wooden sign beckons folks inside, where they are apt to meet Jeremiah “Pete” Hansen behind the glass counters of the Mercantile.

Pete is lean and blond, wears a newsboy cap. A reassuring Paul Newman-like smile springs easily and frequently across his face, erasing the worry that traces his temples and brow. Pete’s background is in the restaurant and construction industries and his first love is culinary arts, but the vagaries of life have sent him meandering. He got to know the Boxcar while patching its roof one day, working odd jobs. It didn’t take long for the unheated and leaky building—combined with Buntjer’s vision—to seduce Pete, like an empty frontier. He soon began regularly working and hanging around the Boxcar, volunteering his time. Now he mans the entry point five days a week.

What inspires a grown man to abandon a recurring paycheck for some impossible opportunity, to take a chance on art and community?

“The short story?” says Pete, “I grew up in a big-ass family, the seventh of nine kids. Always shared a room. Married young, always shared a house. Got divorced, didn’t know what the fuck. Got remarried, tried to make that work. Didn’t work out. I don’t know how to be alone. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what 'me' is. So why not?”   Besides, he adds, "I can reinvent myself, I can be whoever I want. And reality is what?”

Reality does seem to twist and morph inside the Boxcar. The Mercantile, for example, is bedecked with green soda bottles, burlap bags, clackety typewriters, trilobites, brass belt buckles, wired spectacles, fraying leather jackets, false teeth, and black-and-white postcards. Drunken Sailor Radio plays on Pandora. A gray housecat named Toby toes about, purrs. There’s a velour chaise lounge, a yellow Tonka truck, a stuffed piranha, bat, and boar’s head, one sheep skull covered in turquoise, and a brocade sofa in the colors of The Mystery Machine—sea green and aqua. In the evenings, bistro lighting colors the timbered room copper and gold. In the mornings, the large south-facing shop window is platinum white, a portal back to a world of concrete and cubicles, where the pathway is known. But inside the Boxcar, possibility wafts around like an invisible river, and there’s the sense that, if lucky, you can hitch and ride the flow.

Next door, inside Revolución Barbershop & Co., California natives E’Sau and Lizzy Negrete cut and buzz hair. Actually, Lizzy quietly works the counter, swiping cards, taking money, smiling at the conversations that ricochet around the shop. E’Sau wields the scissors, clipping hair with jabs and hooks, while she dances around each customer. Rectangular black-rimmed glasses accent her round face. She talks in loud, quick gestures, her tattooed arms unfurling in all directions. Old liquor bottles—Jack Daniels, Don Julio, Jim Beam—fitted with spray nozzles, line a shelf below a mirror. E’Sau’s been cutting hair for 24 years.

“I’m the oldest of fourteen kids,” she says, “and I have ten brothers. My mom bought me a pair of clippers from K-Mart one day, when I was 13. I’ve been cutting hair since.”

Being the eldest, E’Sau spent most of her life taking care of younger siblings. “I never got to know who I really am until I moved away,” she says. Until she came to Provo.

And until Revolución, she’s always barbered from home. Having an actual shop, for the Negretes, is a dream come true. To see it through, E’Sau provides the chutzpah, Lizzy provides pragmatic oversight, encouraging her rebellious partner to play by the rules and file for all the appropriate licenses.

To the other side of Mercantile lies Rugged Grounds, set to open for business this February. Partners Skyler Saenz and Sadie Crowley, with help from friends, have renovated the old tax and payroll office entirely with reclaimed materials, from the paneled walls to the stainless counters to the modified sawhorse tables. They plan to sell traditional espresso and coffee, but will also offer kombucha, pour-overs, and cold-brew. The two blow kisses to each other from across the room, hug when they collide in the kitchen area. They both are young and attractive, and their endearments give off an intoxicating air of youthful promise, but without naivety. What they have seems solid, rugged, adding charm to the already quaint quarters.

“I’ve thought about doing something like this forever,” says Sadie. “Since I was pre-teen. And Skylar thought about it forever, too.”

Skyler confirms this. “Big dream on a whim,” he says.

When Boxcar hosts a gathering, the three storefront shops come alive. Doorways connect the structural trio like tunnels between funhouse rooms. The Negrete’s Latino community descends on the brightly lit barbershop en force, showing this gringo what familial relationships should look like—the generous hugs and fearless laughter. Ceviche and tequila abound. In the dimly lit Rugged Grounds and Mercantile, the scent of dried fruits and cocoa drifts between the chatter of Provo’s curious and outcast, who flock to the Boxcar on such evenings. Espresso and soymilk swirl inside paper cups, mimicking déjà vu.

After coffee and conversation—or during or before, there are no rules—guests mingle their way up a flight of creaky stairs, northward through Buntjer’s own atelier, and back down a set of creaky stairs into the industrial tail of the Boxcar. Depending on the evening, a band plays on a makeshift stage or art hangs from the rafters—photographs, paintings, mixed-media installations. The artists in residence open their doors and answer questions about their work.

Painter and illustrator Chase Henson rents a studio. Pencils, brushes, and tubes of paint litter his space. A while back he was studying aviation mechanics, following his father’s footsteps, but an internship opened his eyes. Chase realized mechanics wasn’t for him, so he altered course and earned a degree in art. Around the same time he abandoned the religion of his upbringing, became fascinated with religion in general, and in particular Hinduism. He now portrays its mythologies and gods in his paintings, metamorphosed in various ways. Of the Boxcar he says, “This place saved my artistic life.” Chase recently lost a tattooing apprenticeship and was ready to forsake the starving artist’s way. Boxcar, with its burgeoning community and forthcoming tattoo shop, represents a second chance.

Artists desperately need second chances in Provo. With a pious religious base and a politically conservative worldview that spiders through its suburban sprawl, the third largest city in Utah feels more like the set of The Donna Reed Show than an actual metropolis. Culture is something primarily emitted via Mormondom. Artists who have succeeded in Provo tend to paint portraits of Jesus Christ or depict dead Mormon prophets, Mormon temples, scenes from the Book of Mormon, and so on. Photographers succeed by snapping happy and glistening pics of Utah’s scenery. So making Hindu-inspired paintings that connote mysticism (Chase Henson) or honest photos of naked men (Trevor Christensen) or found art sculptures that hint of death and magic (Jake Buntjer) or photos that color youth and playfulness with loneliness and nostalgia (Lyndi Bone) or mixed media that decry industrialism and corporatism (Kelly Larsen) is a labor of love and uphill battle. But the Boxcar has enabled this motley crew to concentrate their artistic efforts, and they are puncturing cultural barriers, pushing through.

The crew is more interested in building than in tearing down, however. Buntjer’s vision of Boxcar is inclusive. Despite being an ex-Mormon and divorcee—marks that Mormondom customarily frowns upon, even shames—Buntjer doesn’t want to alienate members of the dominant culture. He in fact sees Provo’s homogeneity as artistic promise—a clean page on which to score a new song. He wants to give back to the community that shaped him by sprouting a culture that it can one day appreciate. And if that day doesn’t come, well, he and the other misfits will have each other and whatever they make of themselves through art. “I just want the community,” Buntjer says. “I want church.”

The community is coming together, and maybe the “church” is too. Boxcar is akin to a clubhouse for adults, a chapel, a place of play and spiritual replenishing. Sometimes in the late hours, usually between one and four a.m., when the night is taut and black and all that remains of the crowds is echoing whispers, three or four or six overgrown youth will circle within the gold light, among the stuffed beasts and skeletal fragments and vintage tools, and share wine or whiskey or whatever alcohol can be found hiding in a dilapidated desk drawer. The stars turn overhead. Those gathered begin to skip and leapfrog their words, so that they end up communicating more through vibes and frequencies than actual language. Psychologists call this “flow,” except they’ve yet to study it in conversational contexts. To a stranger or latecomer, it would sound like gibberish. In truth, it’s a deeper form of communication than everyday chatter, something that occurs at the level of the soul, and often regards matters of the same—what it is or isn’t, how to attain it or express or channel it. The details of these revelries are often forgotten by morning, but lingering impressions remain—footprints on each being’s nucleus, pictographs of the night tattooed onto vital organs. Of these clubhouse sessions, Pete says, “They happen when they need to.” You can’t buy tickets. No money required.

The beasts and skeletons and tools belong to Buntjer. His studio is where the Boxcar’s more serious and subdued meetings occur. His also radiates the greatest amount of magic. Whereas the other studios feel like studios, splotched with paint, flung with framed illustrations and photos, Buntjer’s studio is part shop of horrors, part dreamland, part American Pickers collective. There are leather and felt hats, fur coats, and twenty-one pairs of rusty pliers. There are hammers, saws, tapes, an old tequila bottle filled with purple goop. Block letters on a beam read: MISTER PAUPER. There are springs, wires, cloths, razor blades, dressmaking torsos in wicker, iron, and plastic, and over twenty-five doll heads, many with their eyes plucked out. A horse bust sits blindfolded in one corner. There are canvas bags, model ships, birdhouses, dusty jewelry boxes, a wall of brass curiosities. Buntjer reimages the refuse when he sculpts, which involves grinding, cutting, stitching, tying, wiring, hammering, gluing, and dreaming. The floor creaks. Light streaks through its cracks. A stuffed desert bighorn sheep stands in the center of the room. Above it drapes a large white flag bearing a red X, as if to suggest: this is the place.

Buntjer, with his pointy beard and heeled boots, resembles a satyr. Fitting for a mythmaker. Between overseeing Boxcar’s operations, sculpting, shooting photos, pitching art shows, and directing art for a new theatre in Provo, Buntjer works sometimes eighteen hours in a day. He is in the Boxcar’s tail, the storefront, and out back unloading his Jeep all at once, planning, directing, organizing. Sculpting. Sometimes following a Boxcar event, which represents the climax of a month’s work, he retires to his studio, the hearth of Boxcar, on a burgundy sectional next to the desert bighorn, for a clubhouse session. For church. But even as he unwinds, a vision visibly turns in his head, one he has expressed a hundred times in a hundred different ways, but that always resounds the same:

“I knew in my gut if I could acquire this space, if I could create the opportunity for myself and then share it with other people, that we could hook dreams. And if I hooked a dream with somebody and they hooked with me, then we could hook more dreams together and create an ecosystem that benefitted everybody. Then maybe everybody could be a little more creative, a little more real, a little more daring, a little more risky, because they were connected to other people doing the same thing. It’s a family.”

A family of foolhardy misfits, a chest of coupled dreams. Without them, Boxcar is just an old building. But, for now, it feels like a train car being pulled toward some remarkable, enchanting place. And I, for one, am aboard, if only to see what's at the next stop.

A version of this story was originally published February, 2017, at Utah Stories.