#pow! pop kids

[thelastharbinger]

Fuck.

#THETHUMBNAIL THETHUMBNAIL THETHUMBNAIL #WHY DOES IT ALREADY LOOK LIKE THE BEST CINEMATIC QUEER INDIE MOVIE?!?!?! ONLYONEOF ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! #JUNRIE WHAT ABOUT MY SANITY? HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT THAT? #YES I JUST TOOK AN EDIBLE WHAT ABOUT IT??? #IMMA STAY UP FOR THIS GODDAMN MV AND IMMA HAVE A GRAND OLE TIME #fuuuuuuuuck me #imma bout to have my pussy popped! #no no no no no #i'm already not ok #IT'S THE TENDERNESS FOR MEEEEEEEEEEE #HEAD ON SHOULDER LAYING ON WET GRASS W/ WET HAIR AND WET CLOTHES IN THE MOST ABSOLUTE CALM #fuck i want more people paying attention to them. ooo that is. #junrie are gonna be the death of me (if this eddy doesn't kill me first haHA! bada bing bada boom) #*finger guns* pow pow #ok im done now #onlyoneof #ooonet #junji #rie #kim junhyung

[tange-my-rine]

saying something stupid (like I love you) || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: With Lemon's guidance, you take the initiative and confess to Tangerine. He kept saying he felt the same, and wouldn't shut up until you did it. So, in a moment of weakness, you told him. You kind of knew what to expect: either reciprocation or rejection. Easy. But when Tangerine instead physically runs away from you, you have to admit you weren't expecting that.

TW: angsty (with a happy ending), crying, cursing (it's Tangerine), and avoidance (Tangerine is really bad at feelings, what can I say).

[[A/N: yes this is based off that one song. It's so GOODDD. And also something Tangerine would totally do. Peep the Little Women reference. Enjoy :)]]

"C'mon," Lemon urged, "-'s not 'at hard, mate."

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly chewing the inside of your cheek, "You say that as if you've ever been in a relationship. Ever."

You had known the twins since middle school (probably), both raised with shitty parents and even shittier lives. When you saw them for the first time swindling a boy out of his money in a go-fish game, you essentially blackmailed them.

('If I don't get a share, I'm telling the teacher.')

You actually even knew their names, and them yours, but you preferred the codenames -you were the one to come up with them afterall.

Tangerine almost popped a blood vessel when you met that day, but Lemon smiled big and bright and pulled a five out of his brother’s hand. You and Lemon were fast friends after that; Tangerine took a lot more time.

That being said, when you were finally friends -near high school, he started to... fill out his form. Naturally, being close to someone who is handsome, you find yourself in... certain states of mind. And what started as a little crush your senior year, snowballed to now.

Where you were in love with him.

You probably told Lemon after a few years of it not going away. But, you'd find that every day after you'd regret that decision.

"Sally Jones," Lemon offered up, seemingly in defense of himself.

You scoffed, "The girl you dated for a month?"

He nodded his head.

"You didn't even like her," you clarified, "-you liked that she had cable so you could watch your fucking trains."

"So?"

"So-" you said a little loudly, turning to the bedroom where Tangerine slept and drastically lowering your voice at the distinct absence of shuffling, "-Lemon. We have been best friends since we were kids, that's... That's a lot to mess up because I'm... because I have feelings."

"What so-" Lemon starts, "What if he gets married one day? What are goin' to do? Just... Just fuckin' bury it down?"

"First off, he's too much of a dick to get married, secondly-" you paused, letting out a big sigh -something in your chest twisting, "-yeah. I mean, it's what I've done for all of these years, isn't it?"

He frowned for a minute, hand finding its place on your shoulder, "You ever think ya deserve to get it off your chest? 'At maybe you deserve the happiness it'll give ya?"

"Might give me," you corrected.

"Look, I know my brother," Lemon argued, brown eyes layered onto yours, "-and I know he's been fuckin' crazy about you since you stole that fuckin' five dollars on the playground."

"I didn't steal it," you clarified, a little defensively "-we made a deal. We negotiated-"

"Y/N," he refocused, "-I just wanna see the two of ya happy, yeah?"

"I know," you spoke, softer, "-I know, Lemon."

Before another word could be spoken and it really seemed like Lemon wanted to, Tangerine stepped into the living room -hair still sleep-mussed, and clothes far more casual than what he'd wear normally. Not that it was new to you, but it still made your heart flutter a little.

"You 'avin' a fuckin' pow wow without me?"

"Morning, sunshine," you smiled with a sing-songy tone.

"Fuck you," Tangerine muttered (a tiny little smile quirked onto his lips), before slinking off into the kitchen -most likely in search of coffee.

When you stayed seated, eyes flickering over whatever reality TV show was on -Lemon nearly burned a whole in your side.

'What?!' you mouthed, exasperated.

He was wordless, brown eyes darting from you to the kitchen -a few times in a row actually.

'Now?' you mouthed back.

'The sooner the fuckin' better,' Lemon mouthed back, shoving you further down the couch.

Well, you debated to yourself, it would get him off your back, and that would be nice.

But, you didn't feel so scared then -not like all the years prior. It was like something... something had shifted in you and you just wanted it done.

Shit, you thought, maybe it is time.

You took a deep breath in and with raised hands (in mock surrender), stood up.

'Fine.'

Lemon seemed taken aback a moment, shock, like he'd never actually expected you to cave; to be fair, you were a little surprised too. But... you were tired, and if heartbreak was to come of it -you wanted to get it over with now.

'But if he doesn't...' you mouthed, '-you owe me everything in your wallet.'

He neatly nodded in agreement.

You swallowed, squeezing your hands together and with the timidness of a doe, entered the kitchen.

The kitchen in the apartment was small, but modern-looking. It was all sleek metal and plain colored cabinets, looked like something out of a magazine. That being said, Tangerine fit right in.

Your eyes unwillingly went to his hair, the unkempt curls, and you briefly wondered if they felt soft.

"Hey, Tan?" you echoed out -trying to keep your voice level and calm.

He held up a finger -as if to say 'one moment', before fidgeting with his coffee. He took it basically black so it didn't take him too long to do so. Just a dash of both sugar and milk, he spun around to look at you.

You supposed you hadn't thought about the idea that he had to be looking at you while you said it. His eyes were always so... bright and distracting -you could hardly handle it when he looked at you so intensely on a regular day. How could you do that today? Right now?

You cleared your throat, wringing your hands together, "I, um, I need to tell you something."

Tangerine pursed his lips, looking you over -leaning slightly on the counter with his cup in his hand. His eyes dashed over yours with a curious sort of question there -scanning over you like he was trying to figure out just what it was.

"Ya alright, love?"

You blinked, trying to clear your head, and opening your mouth to respond. In what way, you weren't sure but any at all sounded good-

"Get fuckin' on with it, mate," Lemon yelled out from the living room -apparently hearing everything in here he could.

Tangerine was just looking at you -blue eyes just looking.

Something in you snapped.

"Jesus Christ, fine, Lemon," you hissed in frustration -words coming out before you could stop them, "-Tangerine, I'm in love with you."

Tangerine froze.

You weren't even sure he was breathing.

"Tangerine," you stepped forward, concerned, "-are you okay?"

Before you could so much as touch him though, he, without a word, beelined out of the kitchen. So fast you were left reeling in his dust, blinking a little deliriously.

You instantly spun around your heels and rushed to the living room -just in time to see Tangerine swipe the keys (the car keys) off of the little table near the door and promptly leave the apartment.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed into your mind -like a pin dropping into silence.

Something swirling up into your chest, you swallowed -something heavy on your tongue and even heavier on your heart. You blankly stared at the door, like if you wished hard enough he'd come back and tell you he loved you. That all of it had just been a gut reaction.

After a few minutes, that did not happen.

"Lemon...?" You croaked out, eyes suddenly blurry and heart pounding in your chest -had you really just ruined it all?

"Lemon-" you let out a breath and it somehow turned into a sob. It felt like your chest had been cracked open and your heart crushed to dust.

God, you'd lost him. You fucking lost your best friend because you decided to be stupid and fall in love with him-

You don't know when you fell to the floor, crying, but you do remember Lemon rushing over to you -brown eyes guilty and somewhat confused.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He kept repeating it, over and over, but all you could see in your head was Tangerine frozen and all you could feel was a loss. You were grieving him, there was no way anything could go back to normal-

You'd have to get separate jobs, live on your own-

"I'm not leavin' you," Lemon said suddenly, and you realized you must've been muttering, "-My brother can shove 'at idea up his arse."

Without another breath, you pushed yourself into his arms -wrapped around him into a hug.

"Liked you much better anyway," he muttered, and there was a laugh that burst through your chest.

You and Lemon ended up staying at that apartment for about three more days, waiting to see if Tangerine would return. All of his clothes were here, and you weren't entirely sure he even had his wallet in his pajamas -but he didn't show back up.

Not that he hadn't been in contact, Lemon had been both answering and not answering phone calls from him almost by the hour. He always ran to another room to answer them though, and you respected the privacy -it's not like you wanted to hear from Tangerine anyway.

Even though he was your friend and you were worried, you knew it best not to talk to him.

"You're a fuckin' idiot, mate," Lemon hissed out -bitter and disapproving, "-none of it makes any fuckin' sense, I swear you were-"

There was silence for a minute, you assumed Tangerine interrupted him.

"Are you really fuckin' serious with me right now?" Came back with a much harsher sentiment and the tone of it chilled you to the bone -Lemon was mad.

Which you'd really only seen once or twice, in grade school, either when someone picked on you and you cried (both boys reacted similarly to that) or when someone, unprompted, hurt Tangerine.

You were suddenly flashed back to your senior prom when a guy had asked you but it had all turned out to be some joke. 'He's fuckin' stupid not to like you, love,' rang through your head -familiar blue eyes and arm wrapped solidly around you pulled you into his side, '-doesn't deserve you anyway.'

There was a bitter taste in your mouth.

Lemon pulled you out of your thoughts, "What were 'ey supposed to think, mate? That you were so joyous you couldn't stay fuckin' still?!"

You rubbed your hands up and down your arms, mindlessly packing your bag. The next piece made you stutter to a stop. Hands lingering on a long-sleeved button-up, one you'd borrowed from Tangerine and he'd never asked for back, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest.

No more crying, you thought.

With not a word, you took the fabric in your hands, leaving your room, and shoving it into Tangerine's bag.

You did stay in the room for a moment, breathing in the... Tangerine of it all.

And then, you left.

"No, no, mate," Lemon laughed, incredulously, "-I'm not doin' shit for you. You come 'ere and do damage control yourself."

You pulled your bag up on your shoulder, it was just a little duffle -you didn't carry much job to job, and trailed into the living room.

Lemon immediately straightened, cutting off Tangerine, "I've got to go, brother. I think you know 'at to do."

With the precise press of a finger, he hung up.

Letting out a big sigh, Lemon turned to you, "Let me get 'is stuff, and then we'll leave, yeah?"

And you did.

You're not sure what the last call was about, but after that one, he started calling you too.

Lemon had decided to cool off on the jobs, just visiting a few cities out of want -kind of treating it like a tourist. It was weird, but not unwelcome. One of those nights, it started.

You were eating on the couch, some sort of reality TV show distracting you with Lemon -when your phone vibrated on the coffee table. You unhesitatingly went to pick it up, eyes smoothing across the name-

'Tan 🍊'.

Staring at it for a moment in disbelief, you quickly declined and set your phone back on the coffee table.

He didn't call you again until late that night when Lemon was asleep in his room; you weren't asleep, to be fair, just staring up at the ceiling.

The name flickered across your screen, and with a little hesitation, you answered.

"What the hell do you want, Tan?"

He was silent for a minute, slow to respond -speaking a little in disbelief, "Hey, love."

"Tangerine, don't-" you started, something breaking in your voice -you cleared your throat, "-That's not fair."

"Love-"

"You're being mean," you echoed out, tone a little broken and weepy -it was all you could say.

He was silent for a long while then, almost exhausted, "I'm sorry."

"It feels like," and you could feel the tears bubbling up, "-it feels like when that stupid guy ditched me at prom," your voice got much quieter -a little pathetic but you didn’t care, "-but you're not here, Tan."

'I want you here,' went unsaid.

"I'm sorry," he repeated -but this time a little more dim.

"Don't you think I deserve to hear that in person?" You offered -swallowed back a sob, you were crying by now, just silent tears down your cheeks, "Don't you have any respect for me-"

"I never meant to-"

"Save it," you interrupted -tired and exhausted, "-I need to sleep."

Before he could say another word, you hung up.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night, that was between you and the apartment walls.

He didn't stop after that night, calling you more than Lemon -he still answered. You didn't. You had nothing to say to him, until he decided to apologize, in person. Or even just come back at all. He couldn't run forever. No matter how much he didn't want to reject you, you needed to hear it.

Couldn't he understand that?

Because every day he didn't, there was a traitorous little part of you that held onto the hope that maybe he had just been overwhelmed. Maybe he just wasn't ready.

And that hurt more than anything else. That he wouldn't come to tell you otherwise, when you already knew it.

There were a few times he'd call you, and Lemon would call him back: 'Just leave 'em alone, mate.' And then, he'd disappear off into a room -ready to talk about whatever they did.

And then, about a month after the start of it all, you heard a knock on the door.

It was a normal day, where you and Lemon ate takeout and watched whatever show was on -which was often shitty. He didn't talk about Tangerine, so the conversations were more lighthearted -made you feel better.

But when you heard the door, you froze.

Lemon seemed to be looking for your reaction, brown eyes darting all over your face. And for a moment, you were relieved that he was okay but then your face settled into something strained.

You told him you loved him and he ran away. You didn't think it could get much worse than rejection, but it did.

Lemon took the look as a sign to gently rub your shoulder, comforting, before standing up and heading to the door.

Deciding to focus on the TV and eat, you did so. You only flinched when he swung open the door, and in quiet whispers, you heard his voice again. It felt like your whole world was crumbling, you thought you were ready for this -the rejection. But you still loved him so much-

You blinked away tears, determined not to let him see you cry. You wouldn't accept pity, not from him.

You knew his footfall, knew exactly where he stopped behind the couch and you even felt his hand come to clutch it right by your head. You ignored him.

"Y/N," he started and his voice seemed a little wrecked.

Not knowing entirely why (or maybe knowing exactly), you turned to meet him.

Tangerine was disheveled, hair messy like he'd been running his hand through it for days -which you knew he did when he was nervous, and his new suit messy. He did look a little like he'd been in a bar fight, and won. You also knew he did that when he needed some stress relief.

Was that why he was here? For refuge?

"I-"

You abruptly stood up, food falling from your lap, and somehow safely onto the couch, "I'm too tired for this."

Tangerine looked at you for a moment, and you thought it was a little desperate but you smushed the idea without hesitation.

This time, you were the one to run away from him.

You found immediate solace in your room, slinking against the door and breathing so quickly -your eyes fogged up. Needing something to do, you decided to unpack your bag.

Unwillingly, you heard a mutter of voices, and even Lemon's footfall as he disappeared into his room. Tangerine took a bit longer, but when you heard the door shut, you let out a long sigh of relief. Not tonight.

Before you could finish with your clothes though, you heard his steps again -slow and hesitant. You thought for a second that maybe he was leaving again, and something in your stomach twisted.

Instead, though, all you hear was them booming closer. You stilled.

You had the off thought to run over and lock it, but it was too late then. The door opened slowly like he wasn't sure if you were asleep. And you chastised yourself for not thinking of that.

When he opened it all the way, his eyes landed squarely on you. You waited for him to say something, anything, so you could shut him down and go to bed.

Instead, he simply extended his hand forward.

Your eyes darted to it, his hand clutching a shirt -the shirt you had shoved back into his bag. How did he even know it was different?

"Take it," he spoke, voice quiet.

"Tangerine," you countered, swallowing back the heaviness in your voice, "-that's yours."

"'S not," he explained, "-I fuckin' gave it to you."

"You let me borrow it," you clarified, tone wavering slightly, "-I'm just returning it."

"You didn't fuckin' borrow it-"

"Tangerine."

"Take the fuckin' shirt, love," he reiterated, "'s not mine anymore."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-can you not? It's late, and I'm tired-"

"It's your shirt," he interrupted, something in his eyes but you couldn't quite label it, "-take it, and I'll fuckin' leave you alone, yeah?"

"I'm not-" you exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment -trying to bat away the tears, the frustration, "-Tangerine, I don't want it."

"Well, I want you to fuckin' have it."

"Do you think about what I want?" you echoed, "-Ever?"

Tangerine opened his mouth, but you were on a roll now.

"I..." you laughed incredulously, looking up to stop your tears (you blinked them away), "-Tangerine, it's been a month."

He tried again, but you didn't let him.

"You. You left," you sniffled slightly, clearing your throat -prolonging the inevitable, "-Tangerine, I... I told you that I loved you and you ran away."

"Love," he started, small and barely there.

"Stop-" you swallowed, "-Don't call me that, it's not... it's not fair."

"How is it not fair?"

"You don't-" you groaned, swiping at your eyes -you were crying now, and out of the corner of your eye you saw his hand twitch (like he wanted to comfort you).

He stood in silence waiting, patient.

"Tangerine, why didn't you just tell me then?" You asked the question that bounced around your mind ever since he left.

"Fuckin' tell you what, love?"

You flinched, ever-so-slightly, at the name again -something twisting in your stomach, and squeezed your eyes shut. Breathing a big breath in through your nose, you started.

"That you don't love me," you clarified, and now your voice was shaking and your eyes were blurry, "You could've-"

Tangerine seemed to be processing something, a flicker in his eyes.

"You could've made it so much easier if you'd just-" you frustratingly wiped your eyes again, "-said that. But instead, you ran away, and all I could think about was what I had done wrong for you to-"

"You didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Then why didn't you just tell me the truth?" You practically begged, "-Why don't you tell me now? So I don't have to... So, I know."

"That's not..."

"Tangerine," he looked at you -and you but back a sob, "-I deserve the truth. Just say it. I know you're scared you'll hurt me, but I... I've survived worse."

"What makes ya think it'll hurt you?" He offered, and your heart in your chest started beating loudly -ringing in your ears.

"Because you ran away," you repeat, wiping at your eyes again, "-I think that makes the answer pretty clear."

"Y/N-"

"Just fucking reject me!" you exclaimed, not loud enough to bother neighbors but enough to bounce around the room (Lemon probably woke up to it), "-It's not that hard, Tan, you've practically done it before."

He seemed to flinch at that, grimace even, at the mention of what he'd done. You were glad he felt some kind of guilt. Still, he remained quiet.

"For the love of god, Tangerine-" you echoed out, shaky now and your heart on the floor -vulnerable, "-just say it. It's not that hard."

"I fuckin' can't," he finally answered -something bubbling up in his tone; his hands clenched by his sides -shirt still clutched between his fingers.

"Can't," you questioned, voice shaky and tears building in your eyes, "-or won't?"

"Can't," he reiterated.

"This is ridiculous, Tangerine," you whimpered -swallowing back a sob, "-you can't give me fucking peace?"

"Y/N-"

"Give me a reason," you interrupted, brash, "-give me the reason you can't reject me right here right now."

"It's not 'at fuckin' simple, love," he remarked, low in tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated.

"Nothing ever is!" you reasoned, "-Just tell me, that's all I want."

"It's not..."

"Tangerine, please."

He swallowed, eyes dipping to yours -scanning over you with your no doubt red eyes and shaky hands. Like he was thinking, deciding on what to say. All you could see was reluctance.

He let out a big long sigh, fidgeting with his hands (and the shirt in the mix).

"Tangerine-"

"'S not how I feel."

You furrowed your brows, "What?"

"I can't..." he trailed off, eyes off you and flickering toward the ground, "-I can't reject you because it's not what I feel, love."

Your breathing halted in your chest. Heart twisting into something so complex, sad and angry and hopeful.

There's no way, he- Why the hell did he run away?

"That's not funny, Tangerine."

"It's not a fuckin' joke," he responded, eyes finally back on yours -and you tried to read them all you could.

"Stop, no," you echoed out, shaking your head, "-don't pity me, just tell me the truth-"

"I am," he reiterated.

"No you're not," you laughed incredulously, "-it makes no sense."

He pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose, "I was scared."

"That's not-" you started, before clearing your throat, "Do you not think I was scared? That I wasn't putting everything on the line to say that? I thought I was going to lose you and then I did-"

"You didn't lose me," he spoke, softer, "-you could never lose me, love."

"I did, Tan," you sniffled, "-I lost you."

"No-"

"Tangerine," you echoed, "-you left. And I thought, I thought that my best friend was gone. I thought that because I had stupid feelings I lost you. You ran away, Tan!"

"They aren't stupid," he responded and it seemed that he was deciding on whether to step closer -you took a preemptive step back.

"At least," you sighed out, voice cracking, "-at least you knew the truth, I... I didn't know shit. You could have never come back-"

"I did," he interrupted, "-I did come back, love. And I know I'm fuckin' stupid, Lemon has been drillin' it in my head for weeks. I regret walkin' out of 'at fuckin' room so much."

His eyes were shiny with tears now, as he stepped forward into your room -hands reaching forward like he'd wanted to touch you, but he stopped.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you? What if you just-" you sniffled, "-run away again?"

"I won't," he spoke -unwavering, "-I swear on whatever fuckin' god is up there, 'at I won't do it again."

"I don't-" you whispered out, clutched at your arms.

"I never meant to hurt you, love," he echoed out, stepping closer, "-I fuckin' hate myself for doin' it. I will never fuckin' do it again."

"Tangerine, this isn't-"

"I'm fuckin' madly in love with you," he finished, laughing a little -slowly placing his hands on your arms. You didn't move away, and he seemed to smile at that, "-'ave been since we were kids, and you pulled 'at greedy shit on me."

"It wasn't greedy," you defended.

"Most certainly fuckin' was," he tsked back, moving one hand to your face -thumb wiping back and forth.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but there was still something heavy in your stomach. Tossing like waves.

"I'm sorry," he said, finally, "-I got fuckin' scared and ran away. It wasn't fair to you, and-" his hand brushed against your cheek, "-I'd beat myself bloody senseless if I could."

You laughed at that for a moment, and his smile got a little wider.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, something clawing up your throat again.

He frowned, allowing his hand to fall to his side -sighing, "I'm a fuckin' coward, love."

You opened your mouth to say something, anything.

"You confessed to me and it was so fuckin' brave," he looked at you like you were the sun then, bright and warm, "-and I... I couldn't spit out a fuckin' word. I just went into autopilot and..."

"Ran away," you finished, swallowing.

"Yeah," he spoke, confirming, "-ran away."

Before you could hold your tongue, words slipped out, "That is pretty cowardly."

Tangerine laughed, a big one, and something in you warmed -a smile perking onto your lips.

"It is," he agreed, "-I'll give you fuckin' 'at."

And then he paused, eye flitting over you -seeming to detail all your features in his head. Tracing over your nose, your eyes, your eyebrows, your lips-

"Are we okay, love?"

It was soft and hopeful, and something in you softened -your hurt letting up just a smidge. It wasn't gone, not yet.

"Yeah, we're good," you hummed out, taking a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, "-but you have a lot to fix."

"I know," he hummed back, blue eyes soft and affectionate, "-I'll do it. Whatever you fuckin' want."

"Well," you smiled, so close to his face -merely a breath away, "-I think I've got my first idea."

"Do you?" He offered with a smirk, hands coming to hold the sides of your face.

"Yeah," you brought your hands up on top of his, "-kiss me, please."

Tangerine didn't hesitate after that, pulling you closer with the grasp of his hands -still somehow gentle. His mustache tickled your upper lip, and you laughed a little -a grin spreading along his own lips in response. And after, it was slow, languid, each press of the lips just a touch more desperate -like you were his oxygen. Fingers pressed into your skin, your head went a little fuzzy -fingers twisting around his palms.

Speaking of oxygen, you parted.

Before you could so much as say a word though, Tangerine pressed a small one to your lips -simple. You laughed a little.

And then again, and again, and again, and again-

"Tangerine-" you laughed out, "-I can't breathe."

"Fuckin' fine," he muttered, before taking a deep breath of his own.

And then the thought crossed your mind that he would leave eventually -go back to his room. Sleep. But, you had lost so much time. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"Tan?"

"Yeah, love?" He gave you all his attention, eyes focused on you.

You pursed your lips for a moment, "Will you sleep in here with me?"

Tangerine opened his mouth.

"I don't want you to leave yet," you clarified, hand loosely twisting around one of his own -held limply between the two of you.

"I don't want to leave either," he breathed out, "-ever, preferably."

You smiled, "Is that a yes then?"

"Oh," he laughed, "-love, 'at's much more than a yes."

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #tangerine #tangerine bt oneshot #gn!reader

[callsign-bunnie]

Random Crack headcanons I’ve collected

Rodolfo teaches Gaz how to break his thumb to get out of cuffs, gets yelled at by Price over it, does not care. Threatens to teach Gaz how to dislocate his arm to get them around to the front if he keeps it up

Rodolfo has a stuffed bear that Alejandro bought him when they were kids that no one is allowed to talk about, lest they suffer the consequences

Alejandro has a stripper pole in the ranchhouse. Refuses to elaborate on if he or Rodolfo uses it. (Neither use it, it came with the ranch house, but he thinks it is so unbelievably funny when people just stare at it and then at him questioningly)

Someone made the mistake of getting Soap a hoodie with way too long of sleeves and it rained and he got soaked so he started to slap people with the wet sleeves

Ghost calls himself an Empath

Unironically

Roach has a pokemon card collection

Valeria is basically the Vodka Aunt of Los Vaqueros. I can elaborate on my theory that Alejandro works with her, occasionally, to keep the peace in Las Almas, but I truly think she’s just randomly there for no fucking reason

I actually think she becomes kind of like a big sister to Gaz just due to how Rudy and Alejandro treat Gaz like a younger brother, and I think she teaches him how to eloquently threaten people in Spanish

Price glares at all coffee drinkers, this includes Laswell and Alex. Graves just gets straight up ignored when he asks for coffee

Laswell actually kind of likes tea but Price is so fucking petty that she drinks nothing but coffee around him just to spite him. And her kidney.

Don’t tell Price, Gaz actually kind of likes coffee

Laswell is trying to quit smoking by switching to Herbals, but it’s not working

Has also tried vaping

Gaz has a baseball hat collection that keeps growing. He did not start it, it’s a default gift from everyone and he’s too shy to tell them no more

Alex owns a cowboy hat that Gaz has put on several times, Alex refuses to let anyone explain to Gaz why that’s a problem, but he’s not exactly stopping Gaz either (Gaz knows what the cowboy hat rule is, he’s trying to hit on Alex and Alex is not getting it. Farah’s about to smack both of them.)

Malika regularly falls asleep on top of Farah and she refuses to move until Malika wakes up, like Malika’s a cat. Will glare at people when they try to wake Malika up

She also regularly makes dirty jokes and everyone still acts shocked about them, every time

Malika has a hello kitty doll collection. 

Malika has a beanie baby collection

Malika headlocked someone and broke their arm in one move and had Farah hyperventilating

She’s little slow on pop culture but she’s getting it

Graves is only still at the Las Almas base because he’s a POW and, as such, has decided to make Alejandro’s life as difficult as possible by -Flirting with his husband -Needing something every five seconds -Riling Rodolfo up with petty things -Riling Ghost up with petty things -Breaking random stupid things that still have to be replaced -Encouraging Soap to do random stupid things -Encouraging Gaz to help him -Eating their food and praising Rodolfo’s cooking so Rodolfo gets super flattered and now Alejandro feels like he has to outdo him with the compliments -Existing -Save Alejandro, pls

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro Vargas #John Price #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Phillip Graves #Valeria Garza #Farah Karim #Malika COD #Alex Keller #Kate Laswell #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare II #Call of Duty #Gary Roach Sanderson #headcanons #queue for dinner again hunny?

[ihearteugeneroe]

im having so many feelings about john and gale in the new episode and i NEED to share them. buckle up guys this is a long one because this last episode was angsty for these two and i love psychoanalysis

HUGEEE MOTA SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!

first and foremost, john is absolutely not okay. like i know we have seen this so many times already because he’s been on a mental decline since episode six but it’s gotten worse. the beginning scenes where him and gale fetch the water and gale tries to create some playful banter only to receive a mostly silent john is scary, especially because he knows that man is a chatterbox that can’t shut up to save his life. something has changed and gale knows, but gale doesn’t push it.

second of all, the topic of marge. nobody would ever make fun of a guy getting a letter from his girl because that’s the only source of joy they get inside the hell of a pow camp. but the way john seems almost annoyed by it, as if it is personally inconveniencing him is so noticeable. now one could argue it’s just because he doesn’t have a girl back home, but i don’t think he cares even a little bit about that. john has realized that his home is wherever gale is. which brings me to my third topic.

the scene where gale tells john he asked marg to marry him. the fact that he doesn’t even say those exact words, but rather “popped the question and she said yes”. god, the tension in that scene was goddamn near unbearable. john is entirely stoic which is concerning knowing that he is a man of emotion who feels things on an entirely different level than most men. something is turning within his brain and his way of congratulating gale was so robotic and almost calculated. i feel like a part of him kind of froze in that moment. i mean, he likely knew they would never get anywhere serious because hell this is the 1940s in the middle of a war but still. his buck is no longer his. and who does he have besides buck?

which brings me to one of my final points: john is realizing he doesn’t have anybody. that scene between them where he mentioned he never got letters because he didn’t set it up right, and was so concerned gale would only know this version of him and not his old self. i don’t think anything gale could’ve said would help, but it was nice that he tried at least… john’s whole world is gale, but gale has his world back in america. he has a home. he has something to return to and someone to love when he’s out of this mess. all john is going to return home to is his own loneliness and severe ptsd. john is a feeler and he feels things deeply and painfully, like a knife in the belly, especially when it comes to gale. the man he’s in love with has a woman to return to, and he might as well just be a legend that gale tells his kids about someday. but to john, gale is everything. he will never forget.

anyways this episode for them was VERY angsty and it’s late and i’m tired so this is kind of all over the place but i wanted to share my main thoughts. thank you for reading if you got this far i’ll probably continue my rant tomorrow depending on if this actually gets any traction LMAO i still don’t know how tumblr works.

#mota spoilers #mota #masters of the air #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #angsty thoughts #john is not okay #they both need hugs #and therapy #the brainrot is consuming me #bucky x buck

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 9

Scars and Souvenirs 

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 1784

Rating: mentions of war; being a POW, death and animal abuse. Nothing graphic I promise but if the fic continues (if y'all like it) I'll add warnings for each chapter.

Sy walked over to where the kid was still giving the cop hell and struggling against Debbie's help. He forced the boy down in a chair then got in this face. He spoke in a calm but commanding tone. “Stop struggling before you hurt yourself worse than you already are.”

“You new here? This ain't over by a long shot,” he huffed but stopped his struggle.  

“I'm not a cop,” Sy explained.  “What's your name?”

“Screw you,” the kid snapped.

“Little prick never changes,” the officer rolled his eyes. When Sy cut him a menacing look he walked out of the squad room.

Deb opened the first aid kit and approached him again. “My name is Debbie and this is Sy. What's your name?”

“Screw you.” 

Sy popped the boy in the back of the head. “You will be respectful to her. You understand?” He growled. 

“Owe, yea ok,” he squirmed, wanting to rub the back of his head but unable to because of the cuffs.

“She asked you your name.”

“Mike, my name is Mike.”

“Well Mike, I'm going to clean you up a bit, alright?” Deb asked. 

“Whatever,” Mike huffed.

Debbie cleaned him up and put a bandage on the cut on his head before popping an instant ice pack and holding it to his eye.

Walt stomped back into the room still pissed off. “Are you ok Mike?” 

“Peachy,” he snarked. “Sweet cheeks here fixed me up. See?”

“Sweet cheeks?” Deb asked, arching her brow at him.

Walt sighed before taking Mike to a holding cell. “I don't get it kid. I gave you a chance last time and you're back here again for theft.”

“I just can't get enough of you, Marshall.” He pretended to swoon, falling back on the cot in his cell.

“Fuckin smartass,” Walt growled before leaving him to go back to the squad room.

“What's with the kid?” Sy asked Walt as he was walking them out of the station. 

“Petty theft, B & E, public intox, truancy, fighting, terroristic threatening, smart assed kid.” Walt explained.  “I've tried to give him a chance but he just keeps blowing it.”

“What about his parents?” Sy inquired.

“I've met his old man once. He's a piece of work for sure. Runs a pawn shop here in town when he's not passed out from drinkin.”

“What's going to happen to Mike now?” Deb asked.

“Normally I would say he'd go to juvi but after Gains roughed him up I don't know. He's still got charges against him for robbing Samuelson's Market a couple weeks ago,” Walt told her. 

Sy opened the truck door for her and shook his head. “I know that look. What are you thinkin darlin' ?”

“Maybe he needs some time working on a farm. Sort of like community service but with safety and food and a good role model,” She bit her lip. “Maybe he needs someone to care about him?”

“Or maybe he's just a little prick who's old man doesn't care enough to rein him in?” Walt crossed his arms over his chest. He'd lost faith in people years ago. The world was bad and so were most of its people.

Sy looked between the two of them. One’s face was hopeful, the other disbelieving and he was somewhere in the middle. He could understand Mike acting out with an alcoholic, possibly abusive father and no one to care for him. He looked at Deb. “So you think he's robbing places because he's hungry?”

“And needs things, yea,” She nodded.

Sy crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Deb looked at both of the big, intimidating men standing side by side staring her down and started to fidget. She felt like a kid who was in trouble. When Sy reached out and took her hand she gasped. He would never hurt her, she knew that but the moment had been so intense it startled her. Neither man said anything as she was pulled along back into the station. “What are we doing “

“Rescuing a new colt for you to rehabilitate,” Sy smirked.

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Nearly three months had passed since they had convinced the chief to let them take on a work probation for Mike, then they had to go to court with him so the attorney could convince the judge it was a good idea. Once everyone was in agreement they had to get Mike's dad to agree.

Mitch Holmes, Mike's father, was a real piece of work. He didn't give a damn about his son but he would spend hours gushing about how they were distant relatives of ‘The’ Sherlock Holmes.  Walter went with a counselor to talk to him about Mike and he said the living conditions were horrible. Very little food in the house, roaches everywhere and there were bars on the windows to Mike's room and a lock on the outside of his door. 

Walt unleashed on the police that had been on Mike's case before he had gotten to town. Demanded to know why no one had investigated before now. No one ever even made an effort to check on the kid.

While all of that was going on Sy, Walter and Debbie had been setting up video surveillance and listening devices on the S17. Once they started getting data Deb spent a lot of time pouring over it for pertinent information then handing it over to Sy and Walter so they could track shipments and buyers.

Sy yawned and scrubbed his hands over his face. Between work, court and the ranch they were all exhausted. He stood up from his desk in the shared office the department had given them for the investigation and walked over behind Deb. She was sitting with one foot up in the chair and the other on the floor as she read over endless transcripts. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “We need a break, sugar. Let's go get some food. I'm craving steak,” he rumbled against her neck. 

She reached up and lightly ran her nails over his head grinning when he almost  purred. “Steak sounds wonderful and French fries.”

He kissed her neck and rubbed his short, scruffy beard against her skin loving the way it made her squeak and squirm. “God I love you.”

Deb smiled as she stood up in front of him pressing her body against his. “Love you too baby. More than anything in this world.” Tilting her head up she pressed a kiss to his lips which he quickly deepened. His tounge sought entry into her mouth while his hands slid down her back to grip her ass and press her even tighter to him.

The office door opened and Walter walked in looking down at some papers in his hand. “talked to th…” he stopped when he saw them kissing and blushed. “Sorry I..” he started backing out the door. 

Sy smirked and Deb chuckled at him. He was a big, tough cop but so shy and reserved about a lot of things. He and Sy fell right back into that close brother relationship almost instantly. Walt had a shitty childhood and Sy did all he could back then to protect him. They had a bond closer than any blood family had ever been. They were battle buddies. Deb and Walt had gotten close as a result as well and the three of them spent a lot of time bonding too.

Deb gave Sy another soft kiss before pushing away from him and waking toward the door and Walter. “We're going to dinner.”

“Ok. I'll see you tomorrow ,” Walt nodded.

Deb stopped in front of him and shook her head. “Clock out detective grumpy.”

~~~~~~♡~~~~~~

Sy, Walt and Deb were all sitting at their table drinking a beer and waiting on their food at the local bar and grill when someone tripped into Debbie's chair causing her beer to slosh all over her. She jumped to her feet trying to brush it off as she eyed the blonde woman.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” She gasped. 

Debbie looked at her but just forced a smile. “It's OK. It was an accident. No harm done.” She excused herself to go clean up.

“I'm sorry again,” the blonde smirked, winking conspitorily at a woman sitting at the bar before leaving.

When Deb came back from the restroom she saw a woman rubbing up against Sy. He was telling her to leave him alone and that he wasn't interested but she reached down and pawed at his cock grinding her hand against him almost painfully.  Deb snatched her by the hair pulling her away from Sy. “What the fuck do you think your doing? Lindi?” She growled. 

“Let me go you bitch!” She struggled in Debbie's tight grip. 

“He said no and you didn’t listen. Now you'll deal with me,” She growled as she dragged her outside to the parking lot.

“Oh fuck,” Sy and Walt said at the same time quickly following them. 

“You will keep your hands off what belongs to me,” Debbie warned her.

“He doesn't belong to you! He's not married to you,” Lindi sneered. “You've been together for five years and he's never committed. He's just fuckin you until he finds the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with!”

The words stung more than she cared to admit and it pissed her off even more. “Maybe, but I know one thing for sure. It's not you!”

Lindi lashed out at Debbie which she quickly realized was a mistake. Deb tackled her to the ground and started wailing on her. Lindy was screaming and begging for her to stop, apologizing and swearing she'll never touch Sy again. Deb didn't slow down; she just kept swinging.

“Ok, enough,” Sy bent down and wrapped his arms around Debbie's waist and pulled her off of Lindi. “Alright sweetheart, enough,” he soothed.  She struggled against him and he wrapped her up tighter. “Enough,” he growled in her ear. She stilled for a moment before shoving away from him and trying to walk away. He pulled her back and pinned her against a nearby truck. “Calm down sugar,” he rumbled.

Walter knelt down and checked on Lindi. Her nose was busted, lip bleeding and her eye was already swelling. “You learn to keep your hands to yourself? “

“I want to press charges!” Lindi demanded. 

“You have that right but you started this and there are witnesses to this. So she will press charges as well and this will go to a judge. Are you sure that's what you want to do?”

She got to her feet and glared at Walter before storming off.

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@mrsevans90

@summersong69

@mollymal

@warriormirkwood

@bloodyinspiredme

@kneelforloki

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #syverson fluff #syverson x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill characters #syverson

[billkaulitzwife]

can you please do hc for dating johnny? (sfw + nsfw) thank you!

Yall are tiring me out I HAVE SCHOO-

ofc, non!! tysm for the request, golden <33

Dating Johnny Cade. (SFW + NSFW)

WARNINGS!!

swearing, ed, cuts, sh, mentions of sêx, etc.

Now Playing: Rosemary

johnny is definitely a deftones guy.

SFW

He calls you doll, darlin, sunshine, baby, etc..

He's not much of a sexual guy, he loves romance

Johnny wouldn't trade you for the world

omg he smells like orange peels im js putting it out there.

The moment he finds out you're getting picked on or flirted with

theyre

dead.

meat.

he packs a punch.

like say bob was trying sum w u, POW RIGHT IN THE KISSER

He's so lovable and sweet

he writes you notes on gum wrappers and sticks them in your locker

hes good at persuading the teachers to let him sit next to you

HE CALLS YOU BEAUTIFUL IN ITALIAN

JOHNNY IS SO SWEET

valentine's and ur birthday

he has money set aside for flowers

.

him and pony wld work at DQ together and you and dally would pull to the drivethru like

u and dallas: "YURR"

johnny: "hey, babe! 10.57 at the window."

dally: "i didnt even order yet"

johnny: "YALL ARE THE ONLY BITCHES COMING THRU MY DRIVE THRU AT 2:45 EVERY DAY SAYING "YURR""

.

Hes actually so sweet tho

Dallas keeps his eye on you

makes sure you're good enough for his son

im so serious when i say dallas would take you in as his child but u and his son are dating so thatd be weird

he'd definitely be all kissy and soft when hes tired

he believes communication is key unlike COUGHCOUGHMYEXCOUGHCOUGH

johnny is always by your side

even when ur pissing

hes outside the door

"can i hug you yet"

"JOHNATHAN MATTHEW CADE"

"sorry mi amor"

idk why but i think he'd hate pop and country

js like me fr

NSFW

when he bottoms he knows how bad you love his moans and whines so he lets them all out

hed 10/10 let you ride

and 10/10 wld smash

i mean he does both

when youre giving him head, this man tenses up so much and squirms

he doesnt like hurting you so he'll always thrust slow (at first).

if he ever found out you had an ed, he wouldn't be willing to do anything bc he wants you to be healthy

if you had sh scars, he wouldnt grab your wrists

hed be gentle on your thighs

he wouldnt grab your waist

he would hold your hand.

johnny would do anything to kiss you while fucking.

i swear on my life

he would beg you to kiss him

when you kiss his scar when shits heated

IT GETS SO MUH BETTER

1-10 wld u let him hit, answer in the comm-

this kid loves sloppy makeout sessions that turn out to be sex

like if saliva is all kinda running down your chins he'd get turned on

wait did i just fucking say he has a spit kink.

he def like hickeys

giving and receiving

he loves being called baby or something

anyways

guys im so tired. I LOVE YOU GOLDENS AND TY AGAIN NON!!🫶🫶

#darry curtis #greasers #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #the outsiders 1983 #two bit mathews #dallas winston #dally winston #matt dillon #rob lowe #tom cruise #patrick swayze #c thomas howell #ralph macchio #emilio estevez #johnnycakes #johnny cade headcanons #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade x reader #tim shepard #curly shepard #s.e. hinton #darrell curtis #im so mcfucking tired

[tiffcore]

tw: au Eden but he acts the same. He's a dog lol. Implied noncon

contractor Eden.

an Eden who unapologetically exists within society selfishly. he who has the skill and experience to get himself into good jobs, but none of the interpersonal skill, the wherewithal nor the care to spare proper attention to detail. he's crass and rude and talks shit about your decorations when you invite him in for tea.

but he can always be a whole helluva lot ruder. hes a big guy, naturally the intimidating type, and paired with his brooding demeanor, its no surprise he's not popular.

but hes the only one that could get this job done! the installation needs to be as perfect as you imagine it in your head, and hes the only guy near or far in this backwater town that has the expertise you need.

he's weird though. doesn't want to discuss payment until after the work is finished. doesnt send you an invoice like your regular guys do, just works until the sun sets and relucantly joins you for hot tea every now and again, watching you flit about the kitchen as you prepare him a cup.

and what a gracious host you are.

you break every other silence, coming up with a question or five, an anecdote about your pretty life, several comments on his poor graces, the coffee on his shirt, dirt in his hair.

"And how'd you reckon I'd go about fixing that?" He quirks a brow barely, the impassiveness of his expression overshadowing his intrigue in your interest, teacup held up by one burly finger.

you're balancing a bowl on your hip and stirring something it he can't see. Doesn't stop it from smelling good as hell though. Or maybe it's the oven that's on, warm brown and red glow rising behind the glass at the heat intensifies.

"I have a shower in the shed outside. I propose that after work, you clean up, and I'll wash your clothes. Your boots dry outside and I clean those too, yes? Keep you from getting my floors all dirty, because you can't stand taking your boots off." You bustle about in your little apron and Eden can't help but think of how cute you are when you blather.

Uppitiness is a fitting look on you. So is gingham.

Your dress flatters your figure (stretches across your ass so nice, you bend over and it's really like pow! all up in his face,) and when he leans forward it's not because he's sipping tea.

You'd make such a sweet lil spouse.

Would be good for company, easy enough to keep on the house, with your small stature n' all. He'd keep you barefoot when he could, do all the farm work for you, come home to a hot meal and thank you with a hot load.

You're ox-dull, too. Letting him work without mentioning price is like trusting a lone kid in a candy store. But he won't pretend extorting you isn't the one thing he's been most eager about since taking on the assignment

Towards the end of the month, he finally has a sit down with you, under the guide of discussing your payment.

He makes it a little too steep, just to see you sweat a little.

Then he sweetens you up, reassures you that, no, one installation shouldn't put you out of house and home.

He pretends to think so hard about it, while you're busy checking your books to see if you have the kind of finances to give what he's asking for. But even if you did, he wouldn't take it.

Then he lets it come to him! Snaps his fingers like he's an epiphany or seen the edge of nirvana. Stopping your puffy red eyes from spilling the tears you've been threatening him with. You're cute, but not so much so you could cry your way out of his perfect, loving arms.

You really can't either. Because you do cry when he starts bending you over the table, strength unlike anything a man should be able to posesses. He can hold both your hands down with one wrist, and even when you beg, and you plead, and kick and scream.

He does not budge.

He smacks you so sharply it feels like your ears pop.

"What happened to all that hospitality from earlier, hun? I quite liked that about you...." He leans so close to you. Can smell the Earl grey lingering on his breath.

"Maybe you just need a man to teach you some manners."

#eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity #eden the hunter x reader

[edutainer2022]

Waves at @janetm74 with the text. I have no idea if it's going anywhere, but the idea haunted me to be put out there. Mentions of murder and torture, because Bereznik. Colonel Casey gets some disturbing news.

COUP DE GRÂCE

Colonel Casey leaned deeper into her office chair, a heavy weight settling in her chest, as a holographic grid of data points, crimescene photos, some more gruesome than others, and interconnected arrows was rotating in the middle of the room. Her branch wasn't even the law enforcement arm of GDF per se, so the fact this has been brought to her attention was alarming in and of itself. More alarming still was the number of murders in the span of several months - 19 in total.

There was frustratingly little in the victims' profiles to suggest a pattern - different ages, genders, nationalities, appearances, different countries of residence, different social backgrounds. Different professions too - some former or serving GDF, some civilians - engineers, medics, computer scientists, independent contractors. The GDF officers could be maybe loosely placed as stationed in Europe at some point, but that covered only half of the sample. Yet the pattern was there. Somebody of the GDF best and brightest in counter terrorism division or special ops, figured it out. That's why Colonel Casey was contacted. The assumption was still slim to the naked eye, but the implications made her blood run cold. She forced her breathing to even out, thinking fondly of her ginger spacebound godson - John wouldn't have taken this long to figure out and calculate the pattern. The boy was a patented genius. She also wished none of Jeff's kids, she loved so dearly, would ever have to know about it - the kind of evil that still walked the earth and lurked in the shadows.

The murders were vicious - the victims were held captive and brutalized before they were allowed to die. The MO clearly spoke of a maniac, unhinged and cruel, and hungry for control. It was deduced with some effort that while none of the victims shared more than a handful of common traits, or crossed paths to generate veryfiable connections, at some point all of them dropped off of social media for different periods of time. When they next reoccured - most looked notably changed, gaunt, as if having undergone an exhausting illness. The interviews with families yielded little - absolutely noone mentioned that gap in social media presence or feigned ignorance when pressed.

The victims among different GDF officers were easier to counter reference against more classified databases. That's where Colonel Casey was brought in. The results had her grip the armrests of her chair till her knuckles popped. There were no traceable records, because the GDF and World Council chose not to keep any mention above counter of a POW gulag smack in the middle of the flourishing European continent for a very diplomatic reason of there officially having never been a war. All those years later, someone was methodically tracking, capturing and brutally murdering the survivors of a liberated prisoner camp in Bereznik.

Val Casey felt her head spin from strain and allowed her eyes to rest for a briefest moment. On the backdrop of memory was her oldest friend Jeff's face, contorted with fury and pain, towering and yelling at a stammering World President for cowardly evasion and hypocrisy. Jeff's face again, a picture of pure agony, as he was clutching a scrawny lifeless figure in tattered bloody fatigues to his chest and weeping. She didn't keep track if all the guards and officers of the compound were ever rounded up. Their mission was as black ops as it got - get in, extract, get out. Fast. Were they caught behind Bereznik border, the World Council would feign ignorance and give them up to be tried by the local authorities for an act of war. She forced herself to look back at the holoscreen again and shuddered - among the pictures of victims who made it out of hell and survived unspeakable atrocities, only to succumb to a cruel and vindictive hand, was clearly slotted a place for one more. The crown jewel of whatever vendetta the vile mind of a psychopath was acting out. Humanity's brightest beacon of Hope. Scott Tracy.

Colonel Casey knew her first order of business should have probably been shutting IR operations down immediately and ordering the boys to stay confined on the island, under Kayo's protection. She wasn't naive enough to hope the maniac, whoever he was, would not resort to the surest way to lure his designated victim out - a captured brother or two. But she also knew her eldest godson enough to know it would be a loosing battle to try and have him stay put for his own safety. It hasn't worked so far on any other occasions. She was also weary to even bring the subject of the imposed grounding up and stir the memories of hell. The profiling team dismissed, she reached for a secure comm unit in a locked drawer and dialed the only viable number there:

- Lord Hugh? I need to meet with you and Kyrano asap. The usual place. Off record.

#thunderbirds are go #colonel casey #scott tracy #colonel casey needs a drink #scott tracy needs a hug #bereznik #methinks i have astronomy #thunderbirds 2015 #my fic #jeff tracy

[relevant-url-incoming]

Power Games

since I've been on my roleswap bullshit, here is a little peek at how Ven's doing in the role of Sith Inquisitor (hint: not well). If you look closely you can see the moment both Andronikos and I looked at Ven and went "oh this is a baby"

Andronikos hadn’t expected to wake to the barrel of a blaster against his forehead, but then again he was the idiot who’d thrown in with the Sith.

“How frequently do you make your reports?” snarled the Sith. In the dark, he could barely make out her shape; her black eyes were luminous as they caught what little light there was. Too bad they were sparking in anger.

Mask off, her voice sounded different – Republic, for one thing. Her full mouth displayed her displeasure with a dramatic curl of her lip. Andronikos would bet anything she wore the thing just to hide her expressions.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid,” the Sith spat. “You’re Zash’s little pirate pet, and I know she wants you on this ship. The navigational blocks aren’t enough? The threats to innocents? Forcing me to do every last bit of the Empire’s dirty work until I break isn’t fucking enough for her?”

He realised with a sinking feeling that he had stumbled into something darker than typical Sith bullshit.

“Maybe not,” he said slowly. “But I don’t take orders from Zash, Sith.”

“I’m not a damn Sith!” she cried, her voice breaking, but she tossed the blaster at the wall. Andronikos sat up warily.

She was just a kid, he realised. He’d buy it if she said she was twenty, but nothing more than that. For all her cynical comments on Tatooine, there was only so much this young woman would have had time to see.

“She’s watching you that closely?” he asked. That didn’t sit right with him. There were some things he drew the line at, and freedom was too dear to Andronikos to make this kind of thing ok.

“I left Balmorra without doing the job she wanted, and the ship shut down. I tried to avoid working for the war effort, and an officer tracks me down with orders to kill prisoners until I complied. I tried to steal a different ship, and some fuck pops out of the woodwork to stop me, because apparently Imperial Intelligence has nothing better to do!”

She rubbed her face ruefully, leaning against the wall. With a clatter of armour, she slid to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. It was almost funny, seeing such a brawny woman curled up like a toddler. Andronikos wasn’t laughing.

“At least you’re telling me the truth,” she said to her knees.

“How can you tell?”

The look she gave him was withering. “Same way I know Zash is using me. Same way I know she won’t have me killed. I can tell.”

She looked away, laughing bitterly. “And I’d bet you anything that’s part of the power Zash is so fucking obsessed with.”

“Ok… So I’m not gonna mess with the Force stuff, but I know ships,” he said. She stared at him like she’d suddenly stopped understanding Basic. “Want me to take a look at the navigation systems?”

She narrowed her eyes.

“You’re serious,” she said. “You want to help me.”

“What can I say?” Andronikos said. “Pirates like freedom.”

She rolled her shoulders and stood slowly, looking thoughtful.

“It doesn’t fix the other things,” she said. “The POWs they’ll gladly throw away just to keep me in line. Whatever the hell Zash really has planned for me. And I bet this ship is being tracked in a couple ways, just in case.”

She pushed her tendrils back over her shoulders, lifting her chin with a defiant expression. It was the first time she’d looked both powerful and comfortable.

“It’ll help, though,” she said. “And as much as I hate it, I know how to play a long game. The Sith have all their power games, right? Maybe I can get control over Zash.”

“You’re getting all this from me offering to look at the navicomputer?”

She shrugged ruefully.

“It’s easier to plan when I have more than me on my side,” she said. “If you’re in?”

“Something tells me you already know my answer,” Andronikos said. She huffed out the tiniest of laughs and, to his surprise and mild offense, saluted him. Before he could ask her why the hell she’d done that, she’d left. He shook his head. He’d have to be careful around her, but he already knew that. At least this way he knew what she’d be looking for, and that he didn’t want to work against her.

And she’d left the blaster. He picked it up and tucked it away. It had been damaged when she threw it, but there might still be something he could do with it. He’d help the kid. He just wasn’t dumb enough to forget how ready she’d been to kill him.

#someday I'll write about Not Ven in the roleswap but oh my god it's so juicy #just considering how to force her through the whole storyline opens up a host of angsty options #swtor #roleswap au #my writing #sith inquisitor #swtor oc #my ocs #ven: never done adopting new family #andronikos revel

[lee-minhoe]

mel's kpop recap of 2023!

tagged by @ambivartence @facethesuns @baekhyunnybyun love you all <33

groups you started stanning?: nflying (wow i cant believe that was in 2023), trendz, riize, kinda purple kiss? (still dont know their names but their concert was good and they were so cute LOL), 2pm (because of junho and then i watched a bunch of their content from the 2021 cb and theyre so funny together), treasure (putting them here bc i discovered i really like their music but again dont know anything about them but i want to...one day lol)

i also fell in love with a bunch of k-actors like jung kyung ho, junho as mentioned above, song kang (see below)

new ult biases?: SONG KANG.....🫣🥴😵‍💫🫠🕳️🚶‍♀️🌳 (adding to my previous trifecta of lee know, mark and jaemin hehe)

idol(s) who got the most of your simping?: lee know and then song kang hit me like a bulldozer out of nowhere in the last month of the year

most streamed group(s): stray kids, nflying, the rose, woodz (according to spotify); also YB, ftisland, nell for rock groups

most streamed soloist(s)?: lee seung yoon, ha hyun sang, gemini, i'll, bigone

top k-pop song(s) of this year (opinion or streaming, you choose): broken melodies by nct dream, again? again! by xdh, feel me by golcha, run by treasure, leave by skz, all the skz records that came out in 2023

top debut this year: riize 🥺 and i also really liked pow's!! oh and bnd are so cute though i still only know like 2 of their names but their songs and mvs were so cute 🫶

choreographies you learned: none hahahaha

albums/merchandise you bought: bought a lot of skz albums thanks to em and our enabling each other 🫵 also the nct dream candy album gifted to me by siyuan hehehehe

new kpop mutuals you made?: honestly i do not remember but i feel like i made a bunch of new moots this year 🫶🫶 love all of you both old and new

tagging (if you want to do this!): @agibbangs @chanrizard @dkbtho @jinniebit @llunapastell @seungmoes @shorelinnes @snug-gyu @woodziecup

#tag game

[ramayantika]

Mathura Nagarpati

Inspired from Rukmini Vijayakumar's dance video on the same song from Raincoat. I had once posted a script kinda thingy about this to make a dance piece. Here, I will write a fic on the same. Also I apologize beforehand if this makes you cry by the end. :)

»»————> ✿ <————««

My dearest friend, Shyamala walks beside me to the Yamuna to fill our water pots for our household needs. We have been doing this from childhood, and even though I do have a daughter-in-law now, who is more fit to carry these pots from the river to back home, I always insist to do it everyday for old times sake. Also, she is already too busy to take care of my grand daughter and other household works.

For old times' sake....

SPLASH!

Shyamala and I raise our heads up to see who fell into the river, only to meet a fun sight of a couple of kids frolicking in the Yamuna. Two little girls were laughing, their hands clutching their tummies while three boys adorable pouted at them. The river had crowned a boy's head with a lotus leaf.

I look at Shyamala. Her now thin lips carry a small smile at the children. Her eyes instinctively turn towards mine, and she says, "Once, we were young like them too. Good times, wasn't it." She touched her lower back and continued, "Only if, I wouldn't suffer from this wretched back ache, I would definitely call the others and jump into the river just like we used to do it back then. I wish I could do it once again – for old times' sake."

Sitting down by the riverbank, wincing slightly at the pain in my knee joints, I reply, "You know, you can send Malati to bring water. This back pain takes a toll on you every time."

Chuckling, she moves a pot into the gracious river, saying "I am old. I need to exercise my body so that I still remain active and sane until my last breath. Also, I keep doing this just to revisit my memories."

Ah... looks like we all engaged ourselves in such activities to painfully remind ourselves of our bittersweet memories with him.

"It's all for old times' sake." I hear her mutter. Quietly, I decide to fill my pots when for a moment, I notice something unusual in my reflection.

Once I was young and pretty, and whenever he was around me, I always felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. And when he left, I no longer cared how beautiful I looked. Now that, my hair has gone grey, my pretty face, saggy and wrinkled, my limbs no longer agile, I don't find any reason to sit and admire my long lost beauty.

But, today, there was something different. It wasn't as if my face looking drastically young in the reflection, but a single lone peacock feathers on my head.

God, was he too undergoing the old times' sake feeling like all of us?

"Shyamala, is there something on my head?" I ask, pointing at my head.

"Except that yellow odhni on your head, and that pretty gorgeous white hair, you have nothing."

Amused, I retort, "My husband even doesn't compliment my hair, the way you do. 'Pretty gorgeous hair' They have lost their thickness!"

My friend ducks her pot in the water, which erupts with a pop sound and says, "You still have some volume left in them. Look at mine -- these are threads."

A high pitched scream from the opposite side of the river alerts us away from out hair thinning concerns.

"Munna, you evil brat. Wait, till I show you," shouted one of the girls who was pushed into the river.

Shyamala clears her throat and called the children. "Kids, you better not venture too far into the river. Stay near the banks and play. Also, stop pushing each other into the water. You never know, if a serpent monster is waiting down to snatch mischevious children away."

A little girl innocently asks Shyamala, "Like Kaliya naag?"

My hand stills. The memory's still fresh in my mind. The large black serpent had poisoned the waters, killed so many of our cattle, and was close to snatching him from us. For us, he was just a child of our age. We never thought he would so powerful to vanquish that demon, and when he danced on top of his head, it seemed as Lord Nataraja was dancing tandava on him.

That evening I had scolded him tremendously. And that charming yet mischevious boy had nothing but a bright smile on his face. Did he not what danger he had encountered?

"Where did you get lost now?" I feel Shyamala shake my arm. "Your pot had begun sailing on the river."

"Oh.." I shake my head and grab my pot when I see a peacock feather on my head again. I brush my fingers over my reflection, watching my image disperse in the gentle waves, the blue green feather still showing itself over my head.

The kids have begun playing with themselves in the water, forgetting their previous quarrel. I smile at them, as my mind drifts to my childhood memories with a young boy who always donned himself in yellow robes, and was dark as the night sky, but had a lustre rivalling the moon.

"Hai Mahadev, why don't you call me to your abode. I can't take this back ache any more." Shyama lifts her pots with a groan. Adjusting one of the pots on her hip, she looks at me, and says, "Listen, I have to head to the village market to buy some seeds for the garden. You go home alone today."

I nod at her, and turn back to the dark river when a gentle voice whispers in my ear, a voice I could recognize anywhere, even in deep sleep.

"Nayani"

I breathe slowly. My eyes close themselves shut, and I keep repeating to myself that all of this is in my head -- that he isn't Vrindavan's Kanha anymore but Mathura nagarpati and Dwarkadheesh.

"Nayani, it is me. Will you not welcome me? Open your eyes. I have come back." I hear him take a pause. "For now."

Ignoring the burning sensation in my throat and my laboured breathing, I turn around to face him. I gasp.

He had indeed come back! My Manohara, my Manmohan.

Tears flow freely out of my eyes. I hug him tightly. His arms still contain the same warmth like they did years ago, even on the day, he had parted ways to leave for Mathura.

I sob, not caring who was watching me. My friend, my first love was back after so many years. I wasn't going to hold back.

His fingers gently caress my back as I step out of his embrace. Even though, I am an old woman now, with him near me, I feel me teenage self come back.

Blushing hard, I look down at his beautiful feet. They are painted in red dye. His toe rings shine magnificently. Taking another step back, I look at him from head to toe.

There is a crown on his head with his signature feather on one side. His curly hair reaches his shoulders. Unlike me, they haven't lost their colour nor their thickness. And for heaven's sake, this man hasn't aged much. I felt bad for myself. He still looked ethereal while I an old maid.

"Tell me your beauty secret, Mohan." I look up at him and ask. My saggy cheeks feel warm. I pull my odhni closer to my face in case he sees my red face.

His eyes twinkle and a lovely smile curves on his lips. "And tell me since when did you start hiding yourself from me?"

I stare at him. "Why will I hide from you Kanha?"

He smiles some more and moves my odhni from my face, his fingers brush my cheek and I partly wince and partly melt. "There you go. This is the Nayani, I know."

His smile is infectious. Smiling ear to ear, I reply, "Well, this Nayani is not a young sixteen year old. She is married, a mother and now a grandmother. What will people say if they see me blushing in front of another man?"

He says nothing and walks to the river. I follow him. "Do you remember how I stole makhan from your pot here?"

Laughing at the memory, I look at him again and answer, "Of course, I do. I remember everything. I had chased you with a stick, remember?"

"I remember everything too, Nayani."

"Thank God, you do, Mathura nagarpati. A great man after all must remember his roots." I jokingly say. He chuckles and picks a leaf from the ground. He carefully twirls it with his fingers, his eyes examining the leaf in great detail.

"Where do you think will the leaf go if I blow it away?" He asks.

Taken aback by his question, I think for a while. Krishna has always been patient. He turns his body towards me, and I notice something different this time.

When he had arrived her, he looked youthful and radiant. He still looks godly handsome even now, but there is an unusual sadness gracing his features. I can sense something is heavy on his mind, which he is masking by a smile. His eyes look slightly tired. He needs rest, a long rest.

"The answer, Nayani?"

"Since it's the great mighty Krishna blowing the leaf, I am sure it will reach Vaikuntha dham."

He laughs again throwing his head back. His shoulders shake too. Surely, my humour wasn't great to receive such reaction from him.

He keeps on laughing until tears spring out of his eyes. There is a low snifle too. I touch his arm in concern. Was he okay?

Composing himself, he touches the peacock feathers on his crown and tugs at it. Holding my palm, he keeps the feather on it. "I will have to leave for my abode soon. There isn't much time left. So when I leave, blow this feather in air. Who knows this might reach Vaikuntha?"

My heartstrings tug again. He has to leave again? I wasn't going to keep him for long here. He has a lot of work in Dwaraka to do, but he could stay here for a day right?

"Why are you leaving so early? Stay tonight and leave tomorrow. You have to meet kaka kaki and other friends too."

He sighs deeply and closes those lotus petal like eyes. His hold on my palm tightens. "I wish I could do that sakhi. I wish, I could, but I can't. Time will make no exception for me. I will have to leave."

It feels like that unfateful day again. He had told me the same thing. 'I will have to leave. There is no choice. My duties call me.'

I purse my lips and look ahead. Silence settles deep between us. The only sound that I can hear is the gentle gurgling waves of the Yamuna.

Krishna speaks again. "Now now, there is no need to be angry. Let's make the best of our time now. You haven't told me about your family. How is your husband? Did you have a grandson or a grand daughter? Tell me what all did you do after I went away? Just keep talking until it's the time to go." I keep making a disappointed face, which causes the great lord of Dwarka to pout. "Please, just hear me out for one last time?"

And I fail to be mad over him. I narrate each and every incident that took place in his absence. I tell him all the village gossip. I tell him about my family. I tell him how I felt when he left the village, how I lived with this grief for a long time. And at last, when I felt satisfied, sharing every detail of my life with him, I sigh in tiredness and glance at him.

His eyes shine with tears, but there is still that damned smile on his lips. I feel he is hiding yet another news from me.

"You have aged quite well, do you know?"

"At last, I receive a well deserved compliment from the world's handsomest man. Indeed a pleasure, Kanha. Thank you."

There. He erupts into a cheerful laughter again. He stands up and dusts his uttariya. His eyes glance at the setting sun, now doused in shades of red and the sky, in orange and purple. Somewhere I spot some blues too.

He takes a step back, his hand outstretched. "It's time to go sakhi."

I stand up too, my fingers brush his fingertips. "Why so early? This is just like that day." My eyes burn with tears that I am sure will soon fall.

He moves back again, his hand still outstretched as if asking me to try and keep holding it as long as I am able to. "It is. I know. I am sorry. I have to. In a way I could fulfill my promise to you if not for the whole of Vrindavan."

"What do you mean?" I see his form lose its glimmer. His eyes look like fading stars on the onset of dawn.

"Send the feather high up in the air. It will reach me again. It carries all your love and affection for me."

"What's happening Mohan? I don't understand. You look like you are going to fade. Are you unwell?" I stifle a sob and blink those tears away. If this was the last of him, I had to see him until he goes away from my sight.

"Everything is going according to time. Do not worry, Nayani. Let me go. Until unless you leave my hand, I cannot go."

I feel my fingers lose their grip. "Don't go. Please..." I beg him, but I no it won't stop him. It didn't stop him then, it won't stop him now.

He smiles for the last time I think. I clutch the feather tightly. His looks at my fist and says, "Don't hold it so tightly in your fingers. It will crush."

"Krishna..." No other words come out. There is nothing much to say even.

"Nayani.." His voice is like a soft whisper now.

"Fine. Goodbye, Krishna.." I bid him farewell. Perhaps this is the last time I would see him here with me. I cannot tie him with me now, can I?

His smile has caused his face to look a little brighter now. He waves his fingers at me and repeats, "Goodbye, Nayani. Live well."

"You too."

"I have lived well and long. No more."

Huh?

"Sakhi, did you hear the terrible news from Dwaraka? Krishna is no more!"

*** *** **** *** ***** *** *** *** ***

"No, you hallucinated maybe. He is no more. He got shot by a hunter in the forest. Dwarka is submerged -- it now lies deep under the sea." I hear Shyamala, but I no longer respond. Krishna was here. I know it well. I know his touch, the warmth and softness they carry. I felt it. I am still a sane old woman.

"But he talked to me right here. I hugged him too. How can you say that?"

Shyamala starts crying. Her head is over my shoulder, her tears drench my blouse. She rubs my back. "The news has taken a toll on your mind, I think. He never came here!" Her tear stricken face stares at mine. "What do you think sakhi? If he was here, wouldn't the entirety of Vrindavan, go and meet him?"

My heart feels empty. I don't know what to think or what to say. Shyamala keeps consoling me. I don't even have tears in my eyes anymore.

Glancing at the waters of Yamuna again, I catch the peacock feather on my head and I remember what he had asked me to do.

"Let's go home, Shyamala. There's nothing we can do. At least now we know he would never come back to us." I say and get up.

My friend nods and gets up with great difficulty. She doesn't even groan at her aching joints now. The grief had surpassed the bodily pain too.

I see her walk ahead. She doesn't turn back, keeps wiping her eyes with one end of her odhni. I look at the sun. It's so small now and it's only a matter of time when it will depart from the sky. The red and orange hues have made way for the blues to take reign.

What a dark evening would it be today!

My right toe brushes over a soft feathery object. I look down and to my utter surprise, it's a peacock feather.

Picking it up, I stare at the feather. The blue and green colour draws me in. I see Krishna in them. He is playing by the river, stealing our pots and dancing with us. I see him watch the river with me. He is smiling so much and even I am happy too when I hear a voice.

"Let the feather fly."

And I follow his words. I caress it for one last time and kiss it. Looking up at the sky, I blow the feather and it moves up. High up. It doesn't even drift down once like most objects do. My eyes keep following its movement.

It's only a speck now. I can't keep looking at it. My eyes are burning. I can only hope that it somehow reaches him.

'Farewell Mathura nagarpati.'

I hear a splash. Did someone fall into the river?

********* ******** ******* ******** *******

Shaknsgsgshhsbavs I chose to attack today. . *hands over tissues in case you want to cry*

Tagging the sakhis: @swayamev @pothosinpots @ma-douce-souffrance @lil-stark @manwalaage @jessbeinme15 @arachneofthoughts @pokemon-master-elita @merapehlapyaarwaapasaagaya @just-another-godless-god @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @reallythoughtfulwizard

#krishna fics #samridhi writes #mahabharata #desiblr

[toy-sitting-anon]

what if the bridge on the river kwai but instead of POWs building a real bridge its a kid building a model bridge painstakingly and instead of [spoilers ig] alec guiness dynamiting it in horror as the 1st train is about to cross its aq hot girl delightedly crushing it right before the virgin rail-assage i meant to say rail-passage but the freudian slip is too good

~~more like the bridge on the river kawaii~~

hmm this gets at the most difficult tension at the heart of crushing toys

because it's really uncomfortable if it's crushing toys belonging to a character who's present, especially if they're a child. and adults who own toys (and play with them, or at least display them in a more interesting way than the funko pop wall of death) are based, and i don't want them to be punished for their basedness. but the scoundrels who look down on toy ownership, who truly deserve to have their toys crushed, well, they don't own toys.

(i suppose iot and similar rubbish is more likely to be owned by normies than cool nerds who know about security risks and can spot a scam, and small appliances are generally second to toys in terms of hotness to crush. but i'm not the juicero sitting anon am i.)

so the owner of the toys can't be a character whose despair is visible, and they can't be my toys (i like my toys! i don't want a girl to crush them.), or rather an observer-standin's toys. if you're importing assumptions from other kinks it's easy to round off to a this being something i want visited upon me or something i want to visit upon others. but that's not really the case and leaning into that can ruin it.

(well, if i really really hated someone maybe i would not mind seeing their toys eaten/crushed, because i am a bad person. but you don't generally, you know, do your kinks with people you really really hate and who don't want your kinks done with them. that's a separate thing and generally frowned upon.)

but it is generally hotter if the toys are like. owned, and she is vandalizing/stealing them. and it's hotter if it's burglary than if it's shoplifting. for unknown reasons.

idk a lot of the time it really is just "don't think about it too much," and then i do think about it and feel very guilty about all the fictional characters whose most treasured possessions my ocs have destroyed and it bums (ha) me out for a while.

i can loophole this somewhat by making the girls like. not understand the implications of ownership for some reason. like a time traveler from a post-scarcity future where people can trivially replicate new toys so telling someone "it's so fun to crush your toys!" in her origin culture is sort of equivalent to complimenting someone's cooking. or making her just kind of dense, or have a very weird value system.

idk it is very hot but like any true tumblrina it is difficult to keep the finger-wagging-geist from interrupting my imaginating.

anyway uhhhh what were we talking about? a model bridge? yeah it's hot if she sits on a model bridge

#ask #loving-n0t-heyting

[salchat]

Pop-up Angel - Chapter 1

“Why, Sammy?”

“Because it’s his birthday, Dean! And he wanted to!”

“You are such a pushover! Sugar's like rocket fuel to that kid.”

Jack zoomed past, his arms outstretched in airplane mode. Dean grabbed for the back of his Dino Ranch hoodie, but the little boy swerved and dived under the table, wriggling between the chair legs.

“Well, all I can say - apart from why the fuck, Sammy? - is it's a good thing you're freakishly tall, cause in a minute you're gonna be scraping him off the ceiling."

"Sorry, Dean."

"You should be."

His brother cleared his throat and played with his stupid hair and shuffled from foot to foot. Dean wasn’t going to let him off the hook, though.

"I got him this.”

Sammy held out a bulging, round package, wrapped in Spider Man paper. And he looked so much like that long-ago little brother, holding out a newspaper-wrapped gift he’d had to beg, borrow or steal to have something to give to his big brother, that actually, yes, Dean was going to let him off the hook.

“What is it?”

Sammy’s tight little mouth relaxed, twitching up at the corners. “It’s something for when we take Jack to the beach.”

A streak of blond hair and pattering feet zoomed between Dean and his brother. “Beach-a-beach-a-beach! Go to a-beach-a-beach-a beach…”

Jack tore down the stairs and disappeared down the corridor that led to the bedrooms. The slapping of his little feet and his sing-song voice echoed against the brick walls. "Go to the beach-beach-beach! And make sandcastles! And splash in the sea! Splash! Splash! Splash! And fly a kite! And have a picnic and -"

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam.

Sam shrugged. "At least he's having a good time."

“Yeah, until he crashes." Dean yelled, "Hey, Jack-in-the-box! You gonna come open this?”

The little boy bounced up the steps and hurtled into him, wrapping little arms around Dean’s legs and squeezing, before breaking free and bouncing up and down. “Dad-Dean! Presents! Presents! Presents! Dadeeeen!”

When baby-Jack had first appeared in their lives, there’d been a long conversation over his tiny fluffy head about names. Dean had been going to be Daddy. Sam had decided on Pa. Castiel had chosen Pops. But Jack had ignored all of this and, when he had got through the babbling stage and onto actual words, had quickly made up his own names. Which were fine now, even though there’d been an awkward, but hilarious phase where Cas had been ‘Dad-ass.”

Sammy knelt down, his head bobbing as he tracked Jack's movements. “Jack, look. You can open it now.”

“Fank yooOOO, Daddy-SAM!” He bounced and spun and made a few karate-like moves in the direction of the gift. “Pow! Pow! Smash!”

Dean closed his eyes and let a long breath puff out his cheeks. “Jack? Can you cool it down a bit?”

“Smash! Smash! Pow!” He kick-boxed Sam’s knee. “Sorry, Daddy-Sam! Pow! Smash!”

Apparently no, he couldn’t cool it down.

Read on AO3

#supernatural #fanfic #little jack's birthday #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #a little bit of destiel #conclusion to be posted tomorrow

[skippyv20]

On Record Supporting the P&P of Wales

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim here quite perturbed by the latest lie titled Blind Item #4. I know it is a PinEvil minion stirring up a bad witches brew but this needs to be addressed for new comers for the record. We do have very real receipts to prove the P&POW are a loving couple first and foremost. They adore and protect their incredibly beautiful (happy) children. They love and respect their parents and elders. They have many friends and millions of fans all over the world. They work hard for their country and are bright, fun-loving people, happy to share. Let's review!!!

1. The very athletic, slender bride, now the POW, did happily carry her children. PW was fascinated with his baby brother's arrival and they both were eager to start their family once married. It's possible he gets nervous now about Catherine's health when she sees a new baby and he jokes about her wanting another. At her age, even for healthy females, having a child is always a risk. We all know how sick with nausea she becomes in the early stages requiring a hospital stay for her first pregnancy. This was a big surprise to the family finding out what she had and how to handle it. All of her births have been handled by the same highly respected medical team at the hospital for royal families. All of her children were witnessed as legitimate, of the body births with royal birth certificates. We saw her standing on the steps of the hospital with her actual post birth tummy not hidden, dazed and amazed looking at what she had just brought into the world. The way they held their brand new babies was natural-as in organic-as in home made by them! The Princess of Wales has commented publicly that she enjoyed the whole process from start to finish, including giving birth. She was totally prepared and excited to experience it personally.

2. In thousands of photos of the Princess of Wales wearing lovely, larger clothes during the pregnancies, a very healthy amount of weight gain happened and her babies were normal weights at birth. She glowed. She behaved like a pregnant woman resting and staying at home more.

3. Her natural growth observed almost weekly was all in the right places. Not carried high or too low or huge one hour and small the next like PinEvil's outrageous ever-changing fake bump. There were never loud popping noises like PinEvil's inflatable apparatus expanding and "farting" when she crouched down (in high heels no less) compressing all that hot air causing a loud whooshing as it refilled when she stood up! At times there was shrinkage happening as it lost air creating strange lumps. Once it swayed widely from the left to the right side of her hips as she strutted in a short dress. It even fell off as they left an event all captured on camera! PinEvil's only weight gain was from wearing the plastic gadget while gaslighting everyone. The rest of her physic never changed.

4. The POW's experience with her three pregnancies has made her so popular and credible when working with other women in early childhood educational and medical groups she sponsors. She can really relate to women going through the changes as well as taking care of infants once home. Children love to reach out to her. She exudes the essence of caring motherhood and kids trust that instinctively. Spending time with her own family has taught her how to deal with all those stages when talking to the public. With the clueless PinEvil, kids and dogs shrink away and turn their heads...all captured on camera!

5. As for the other sordid lies included in this worthless blip, the writer is playing with fire. When the P&P of Wales wed, they were ready to take the next step. He was over the moon that day with love for her and still is. He has one of the most beautiful wives on the planet and enjoys being with her. She lights up and smiles when she looks at him. From this side of the camera, they aren't hiding dark secrets. They shine with honesty as they work together naturally, powering through strenuous careers in a global glass house where only ignorant, desperate, jerks would think to throw stones. Over and out for now...

Spot on! Great stuff Pilgrim…thank you🙂❤️❤️❤️❤️

[kelmcdonald]

Spooky Season is Here!

Hi everyone! And welcome to everyone who signed up for my newsletter at Rose Comic Con. It turned out to be the best Rose City Comic Con I've ever been to.  If you're new here I'm making these comics:

Blue Moon is a werewolf romance gn I'm writing and Meredith McClarren is going to draw. I'm late on its script.

The City Between is my webcomic about werewolves in the future. It updates Wednesdays. The current story is called Shards of Reflection.

You are the Chosen One is a fantasy comic about 23 kids who got the same prophecy dream. It was posting on Fridays on my Patreon. But my editorial work has been piling up/overwhelming me lately. So it's on hold until I finish up some other stuff.

My day job is an editor at the manga company Seven Seas and the indie comic publisher Iron Circus Comics. I like folklore, fantasy, and especially like werewolves.

The big exciting thing this month is I've been helping my good friend and streaming cohost, Alina Pete, build and prep a backerkit campaign for the anthology they've been editing, Indiginerds.

Indiginerds wants to celebrate the ever evolving Indigenous culture. Organized by the ever talented editor Alina Pete, one of the co-editors on Iron Circus's wildly successful anthology Woman in the Woods, this book collects work from several indigenous artists and writers. From gaming to social media, pirate radio to garage bands, Star Trek to D&D, and missed connections at the pow wow, Indigenous culture is so much more than how it’s usually portrayed.  Join this anthology as it examines balancing traditional ways of knowing and pop culture.

It will launch October 16th. If you want to be one of the first people to backer, you can sign up to be notified here. It's a great book and I'm excited for the world to see Alina's hard work. 

This month, I'm also gonna start making comics that answer reader questions. If you have one post it here!

Also on full moons, I host a werewolf movie watch parties in my discord. Next full moon is October 28th. And at noon PST, we will be watching the 70s Japanese werewolf movie, Wolf Guy! If you'd like to join click here.

I'll also be doing my usual streaming

As always I'll be streaming art on Twitch. My schedule is currently the following:

Tuesday 8pm-10pm PST

Wednesday 8pm-10pm PST

Thursday 6pm-9pm PST (during the Iron Circus Geekshow)

Stop by!

Last month I was mostly keeping my nose to the grindstone except for selling stuff at Rose City Comic Con. Thanks everyone who stopped by and grabbed a book. I mostly took pictures of cosplay when I wasn't selling books. You can see them all here. But there are the highlights.

The leads of the Sabriel series by Garth Nix!

An excellent Claudia from Interview with a Vampire show

Nedry from Jurassic Park, complete with shaving cream dna holder.

And best for last, an older cosplay rocking a Granny Goodness from New Gods. 

This month I got several of the backgrounds done for the video game I'm working on for Iron Circus games. I have two or 3 more settings to draw. But I'm gonna spend next month focused The City Between and the manga I'm editing for Seven Seas. 

Speaking of manga, one of the favorite titles I've been editing for Seven Seas, Reincarnated into a Total Fantasy Knockout, is out now.

It's about a guy who is transported into a fantasy world and is turned into a hot girl. His best friend is also transported and the two have to stop a demonlord to get home. It's complicated by the fact that they are cursed to be attracted to each other. It's a deconstruction of both romance and fantasy tropes while talking about gender identity. It's a lot of fun!

This month I've mostly been watching Star Trek stuff. Particularly, Lower Decks. I appreciate that while Lower Decks is an adult comedy cartoon, it's humor doesn't come from one character being awful and abuse to other. That's a refreshing break from all the adult cartoons trying to copy Rick and Morty. I think the characters are just a lot of fun. Also, this season the little monster Moopsy has captured my heart (and my bones.) They need plushies of this little guy.

I also reread one of my favorite mangas, Pluto. If you are unfamiliar, Pluto is a retelling and modernization of an Astroboy story. It is a murder mystery as a robot detective looks into someone murdering the worlds most advanced robots. I decided to reread it because there was a question going around bluesky about what scenes from comics have stuck with people/"live in their head." For me it's a scene between Astroboy (or Atom as he is called in this book) and the scientist who built him, Dr Tenma, having diner.

Basically, this scene sticks with me because Atom was built to replace Dr. Tenma's dead son. This starts with Atom talking about his interests and how he happily did his chores. Everything Atom cares about isn't what Dr. Tenma's son cared about. Both of them realize over the meal that Atom is his own person and he can't replace Dr. Tenma's son. So even though Atom is the most humanlike robot ever made and is a grade scientific achievement, Dr. Tenma failed in his goal to bring back his son. And Atom is left is an impossible task. I think it's just such a well paced and laid out scene. In context, I think it's heartbreaking. 

That's it for this month! Have a good one everyone.

#newsletter #comics #werewolves #artists on tumblr #pluto #moopsy #lower decks #rose city comic con

[variousqueerthings]

actually MASH is the first show I’ve watched for the first time as an adult that has this rich history around its making and the people involved in it

As a kid I watched Star Trek and Doctor Who (Nu!Who, but I watched a fair bit of Classic!Who as a teen) without considering all the “Stuff” that existed around them, so they were absorbed in a way that I wasn’t noticing, and I’ve watched single episodes of things like The Twilight Zone or Addams Family throughout my life, although I have yet to watch them all the way through -- I know now how important these things have been culturally, but they’re already inside of the make-up of who I am and what I love in stories and culture

this is the first time I feel like I’m being consciously changed somehow

MASH is something that popped up on my dash or lists of classic shows to watch or mentioned here and there in the pantheon of war media, and I had a vague notion that it was a pretty big thing, but I didn’t even know what exactly the setting was, never mind the characters or the narratives

I imagined something similar to The Great Escape, but had a sense that POWs didn’t make sense for some of the gifs I’d seen of it, but I didn’t know they were doctors. I didn’t know they were going to talk about war the way they do. I didn’t know they pushed ideas that were considered (are considered) downright unpatriotic in their directness and urgency

It’s something I sometimes get from reading classic books for the first time in adulthood -- the story isn’t just over it’s a part of the tradition of telling stories at this point, and I’m sharing this space for the first time with people whose lives have on the surface been dramatically different to mine, and we are affected together

I’m seeing the bits and pieces of the structure of it happening around me, especially on tumblr - characters I know will leave or suspect will leave that will affect the story intensely, characters I think or know will change dramatically, characters I haven’t met yet that I know were a part of shaping the foundations of the story’s enduring importance, and it makes me feel a whole lot of things

the story is over and it’s being told for the first time again, right now, and I can feel it happening

the story is being told for the first time and I know it’s already been told

EDIT: this is also one of the many reasons I’m so thrilled that there’s a few of the people I met through Cobra Kai responding to my posts and wonderings on here, you’re really a part of this whole experience for me, so thank you

#MASH #im having really strong emotions about this one guys #this is a first for me #i saw an edit that I think uses an image from the end of the show or maybe an offscreen actor's moment I don't know #but the image had a finality about it that made my heart clench #I can count down the DVD sets in the box as we go along -- right now the third one is standing on top of it #and in 6 episodes we'll be at the fourth one #it's both happy and sad emotions #im watching MASH