drift scene

alright, I read the drift miniseries before, but I feel like I didn’t notice this fact nearly enough:

Between deciding to die heroically in a last stand with the Knights and actually doing that, Drift gets a makeover. Which is to say, he gets an entirely different helm shape? He basically gets pre-battle plastic surgery? What in the world could be the in-series explanation for this?


Game On│01

Spy!AU Jungkook x Rivals!OC 
Length: 6.8K 
Type: Mindless Fluff aka my specialty hehe
Warnings: May have angst in later parts; ments of weapons and violence, etc. 
Recommended OST: (x
(a/n): this wasn’t supposed to see the light of day until I finished all my other things but I figured I might as well post it because it’ll give me motivation to finish it T^T also… how long has it been since my pure pure fluff days? this part is realllyyyy just fluff hahah next part may have angst and action so stayed tuned bebs. As always comments and feedback is always appreciated. I must give credit where credit is due and say that this is loosely inspired by the Gallagher Girls academy, but mainly the concept of the academy and the mother as a headmistress, but other aspects are birthed from my fluffy ass imagination.

→Summary: “As the daughter of the headmistress, you’re not particularly impressed by the age old history of the academy, the stories turned bland since you spent most of your childhood hearing the tales as your bedtime story. In fact, you remain unfazed by most circumstances, but as luck would have it, these circumstances happened to exclude a certain golden boy named Jeon Jungkook.” 

Originally posted by jungkook-e


Aha, got him.

Trailing your eyes to from the receding figure to your cellphone, you can’t help but feel the corners of your lips tug themselves upwards.

Yes, this is how it should be. You had no reason to worry, even if it is a mission against his school today.

Rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the screen and your sneakers scratching against the pavement is all that is heard as you drift away from the scene, almost but not quite letting your guard down. You never let your guard down. Subtle vibration of the phone alerts you to the next step of the mission and you swipe your finger across the glass surface, expectant. A familiar robotic voice greets you,

“Hello, welcome to the final stage of your practical. Enclosed in locker 080604 between the intersection of 5th and 7th street you will find a package. Retrieve it. A carrier will arrive at exactly 12:00a.m. on Platform 4 from a train heading South. Deliver the package safely by 1:07a.m. and return to campus by the curfew of dawn. Best of luck.” by the time the voice is done speaking you’ve already thrown the device a few meters away from you where a tiny explosion can be heard. 


Sighing slightly, because you’re going to have to run this one, you’re sprinting towards the underground tunnels and away from the crowded streets of downtown, too preoccupied to notice the man in all black on your trail.

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wannabehipbro-deactivated201709  asked:

Oooo girl! Writing Prompt 93. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.” & 41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” please!!

I think I got a little carried away with this one lol but here it is x

93. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

41. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

You huff out a breath, and roll your eyes when you spot the smug green-eyed boy with your circle of friends. “What is he doing here?” You thought. You approach your friends and smile at all of them except the person you desperately wanted to be at least fifty-feet away from, at all times. You roll your eyes when your gaze meets his, and he does the same.

“Oh, let go of this childish feud, you two!” A girl in the group criticizes and shakes her head. You hear a few mutters of agreement among the Cheshire-born lads and ladies.

“Only if he’d apologize.” You mutter under your breath, hoping it would have gone unnoticed, but realize that it definitely had not when you hear a scoff from him.

“‘ave yeh lost yo’fucking mind?” He jeered at you in disbelief. Your eyes snap up to meet his and you raise an eyebrow at his inquisition— As if to say, “What?” His face is one of astonishment as he slowly shakes his head. In his mind, he had absolutely nothing to apologize for— It was you that should apologize.

“‘M not apologizin’ fo’ shit. I didn’t do anything worth apologizin’ fo’.” He states, appalled that you had even suggested it to him. You angrily shake your head as your mind drifts to the scene of that night.

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In-depth Reflection on Kingsman: The Golden Circle (Spoilers)


After so much waiting, watching new promos and trailers everyday, I watched Kingsman: The Golden Circle today! The sequel to my favorite movie of all time! And BOY, I have so many thoughts. I am going to try to go as in-depth as I can, and as much in order as I can but BEWARE this is nearly a shit post with me pouring all of my feelings into it and will have random points all over the place, but mainly is me trying to process everything, this is A LOT (it’s 3k) and basically a summary of the movie 


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anonymous asked:

Yo! Can we have a poly drift and ratchet with a human s/o? Thanks!

( Melly’s Mod Notes: I would love to do this anon! For this request, I’ll be doing headcanons for this since you didn’t specify if you wanted a scenario or specific thing. If you do, just shoot in another ask and I’ll get to it. And for real- Love this hippie and grumpy more, you guys. They deserve it. )

✦ Communication is important in this relationship. Drift and their human can help Ratchet not be as grumpy or grouchy, learning to loosen up a bit since the war is over and they’re supposed to be living their lives now without worries of fears. On the flip side, Ratchet and their human will do what they can to help Drift be more open with his feelings, be more willing to open up his more negative thoughts instead of hiding it with his smile.

✦ With the help of Brainstorm, their human is able to personalise Drift’s and Ratchet’s incoming calls to them. Drift’s ringtone is Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie and Ratchet’s ring tone is Tom Jones’ Dr. Love. Drift is tickled pink and Ratchet sighs and pretends he doesn’t find it adorable.

✦ Drift and their human love to drop by the medbay to surprise Ratchet with kisses, hugs, and declarations of love. He pretends to be embarrassed but these displays, rolling his optics and keeping a frown on his faceplate, but they are the highlight of his day.

✦ It takes a lot of begging and puppy dog eyes and determination but Drift and their human finally convince Ratchet to join them during their meditation session. Ratchet ends up admitting to them that this is pretty peaceful and helps him relax. However he’s an old and tired mech so it isn’t long before he ends up falling asleep. The meditation session is called off for the day but Drift and their human don’t mind. Drift will shift Ratchet to a more comfortable position, resting the medic’s head in his lap while scooping their human up so he can place them on his shoulder for a little nuzzling.

✦ When shore leave comes around, you can bet on some Autobot’s t-cog that Drift and their human will be dragging Ratchet out to somewhere to have a night of fun. Sometimes it ends with them stumbling into their habsuite, all giggly and tipsy and touchy-feely as they tumble onto the berth for sloppy makeouts that may lead to sloppier interfacing. Sometimes it ends with the Party Ambulance rearing his engines at long last and Drift and their human needing to get Ratchet to chill please nO DON’T DO EIGHTEEN ENGEX SHOTS AT ONCE R A TCHET-

Tone of Voice (Optional Bias x Reader)

You ran your hands through your hair as your right leg bounced in time to your racing heart, your eyes glued, unseeing to the small book in your hands as a deep, melodic voice murmured steadily in the back of your mind. How did you get yourself into this mess? You had just wanted some extra money to pay your monthly car payment and have a little money left over to spend on yourself. This side job had been everything you were looking for: easy, convenient, well paying…but you had gotten way more than you had ever bargained for…


A shiver made its way down your spine as your name dripped smoothly from his lips. You suppressed a deep sigh as your eyes turned toward the source of the voice, slowly as if moving through water.

“What is it, B/N?” you asked as you allowed your eyes to settle on the beautiful specimen next to you. You immediately knew it was a mistake.

Your eyes instantly traveled over his form for the twentieth time since he had walked in the door this afternoon. You weren’t sure what he had been doing or was going to be doing after their weekly lesson today but you found yourself desperately wanting to be a part of it. His tight, black jeans ripped at his knees left little of his deliciously sculpted legs to the imagination as they disappeared into a pair of black combat boots. The black t-shirt covering his torso was a comfortable, loose fit but the way he lounged in his chair stretched the fabric across his well toned abdomen while his arms were covered by a beautiful, shining black leather jacket.

Your gaze found his dark, questioning eyes, partially covered by his messy black hair that was hanging down over his forehead. Those eyes, mysterious and alluring. That hair, luscious and taunting. Those lips, pink and oh so tempting. You physically shook your head in a feeble attempt to break the trace he unknowingly had you in. You weren’t a shallow person, but the man sitting in front of you was everything physical you had ever wanted in the opposite sex and it was highly distracting, as it always was but especially today. Today it was almost unbearable.

“Do you want me to keep going?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing deeper at your demeanor. Something was different about you today and he had instantly picked up on it.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, shifting your attention back to the small book in your hands, “Um, what page were we on again?” you asked quietly, heat rushing to your face.

You had been too mentally distracted to keep up, though you were supposed to be the one leading the lesson. You wanted to kick yourself, hard. You were more professional than this. A man’s appearance shouldn’t have this much effect on you no matter how ridiculously attractive he was.

You and B/N had been meeting every week for the past three months. You had been searching through the online advertisements on one of the local job search engines when you had stumbled upon an ad requesting an English language coach. The subject spoke passable English but still desired coaching to become more comfortable with the language. The ad simply requested one session a week, three hours a session, and was offering $150 per session. You had checked the address of where the advertiser had requested the meetings to be held and it was only a ten minute drive from your apartment. You had immediately sent your resume in and had received a request for your services a day later. You and B/N met up for your first session a few days later at the address he emailed you.

The first session had mainly consisted of introductions and determining what your plan would be for future sessions. Turned off at the thought of printing off standard worksheets for B/N to work on and you to correct, you decided that the best way to get him more comfortable with the language was to get experience in it. The remainder of the first session had consisted of you asking him about his background and his current goals and interests. He had answered thoroughly and enthusiastically, the only condition being that you had to tell him about yourself as well.

You used the information you gathered from your first session to guide the following lessons. You would send him articles covering topics you had shared interests in with the sole purpose of talking about them the next time you met. You based everything around discussion, making him talk as much as possible. You would talk about everything from words and concepts that he didn’t quite grasp to general discussions of opinions on the subject of the article.

From articles you moved to books, assigning him specific chapters for discussion as well as reading out loud when you were together to work on his diction and word flow. You spent an entire month discussing all of the complex themes of The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. You carefully explained a few of the deeper concepts that B/N had picked up; there was more there but he didn’t fully understand them because of his inability to pick apart the implied illusions. However, you found yourself impressed with his intelligence. Once he knew the right words, his takes on the mature themes of the novel caused even you to pause and reconsider your own perceptions. The few hours that you spent together were quickly becoming the highlight of each of your weeks.

Last week, you had finished your discussion on your latest book and while he was reading wonderfully now, you wanted to work on his word inflection a little bit more so that he didn’t sound so monotone when he was reading. You found a book housing a collection of random poetry that you had discovered in a small bookstore that you had been casually browsing one day and decided that poetry would be what you tackled next. Teaching him to put rhythm into his words would make his diction more captivating to those who listened and entice them to look past his accent and understand what he was trying to say. You had “assigned” him the first twenty poems in the book just to read over and see if he could find some rhythm in the words on his own. You hadn’t really been expecting much this week but you sure as hell hadn’t been expecting this…

When the first poem fell from his lips, you had to close your jaw which you hadn’t realized had dropped open until he had finished and was offering you a quizzical expression. He had always had a nice, deep voice but when he read poetry…sirens were no longer mythical creatures. You would follow that voice anywhere with no questions asked. You had assumed he would need help finding where to apply accents or draw out syllables, but it was perfect. He was a natural, and it had you completely thrown off. His appearance had already been distracting. If you were being honest with yourself, his appearance had been distracting since the day you had met him, but you had always been able to get past his attractive nature to carry out and participate fully in your sessions. Today was a different story, however. The combination of his dangerously sexy exterior with his equally seductive and sensual voice was driving you crazy.

You found your mind drifting to scenes of that provocative voice whispering that very same poetry softly into your ear as you drank a glass of wine together, his arms pulling you tightly against his chest…as you danced slowly, swaying side to side to ambient music in a candle lit room…as that beautiful body moved intimately against yours, his teeth nibbling on the shell of your ear and your fingers digging into the muscular flesh of his back…

“Page 13,” B/N offered, interrupting your highly inappropriate thoughts, his expression taking on one of determination as he stared at the book in front of him.

You looked down at the pages in your hands. You were on page nine…you had spaced out for that long? You internally shook yourself. You seriously needed to pull yourself together. Straightening in your chair, you began to quickly flip through the next few pages while motioning for him to go ahead. You stopped on the page as B/N opened his mouth to begin reading and you took one look at the title and your hand dropped to the edge of your chair. All you could do is hold on for dear life.

“Juke Box Love by Langston Hughes,” B/N began, shifting to lean forward, his face fully concentrating on the words in front of him…

“I could take the Harlem night
And wrap around you,
Take the neon lights and make a crown,
Take the Lenox Avenue busses
Taxis, subways,
And for your love song tone their rumble down.
Take Harlem’s heartbeat,
Make a drumbeat,
Put it on a record, let it whirl,
And while we listen to it play,
Dance with you till day—
Dance with you, my sweet brown Harlem girl.

When B/N finished he took a deep breath and smiled to himself. He had been practicing that one the most. He wanted to show you he had been working hard and that he really appreciated your help but his smile fell when he looked up to see your reaction. Your eyes were shut tightly and your body was highly tensed in your chair. His confidence immediately dropped. You had hated it. Did he get the rhythm wrong? Did he pronounce something incorrectly? You had been abnormally quiet the entire session and it was really bothering him. Was he doing that badly? He really had practiced like you asked. Maybe he just hadn’t practiced enough…

“I’m sorry,” B/N apologized, his tone heavy with disappointment, “What did I say wrong?”

You held your hand out signaling him to give you a second. You mentally counted backwards from ten to get your racing heart to calm. God, how had he been able to do that? He had never even touched you and you were already so close to coming undone just from the sound of his deep, husky voice uttering a few lines of poetry. It flowed over your skin, exciting every nerve it came across, as light as the caress of fingertips.

When you had gotten yourself under some kind of control, you opened your eyes and offered the anxious male across from you a small apologetic smile.

“You didn’t say anything wrong B/N,” she refuted softly but sincerely, “That was perfect. Go ahead and do the last few.”

The smile that dominated his face from your small praise had your heart racing almost as fast as his voice had. It was beautiful and had such an innocent joy behind it. This boy was going to be the death of you…

B/N attacked the next poem with new vigor, elated by your praise. His joy was short lived however as he continued with the next few poems. Your face was turned from him, your lips tight and your eyes concentrating fiercely on the clock on the far wall with your legs tucked tightly underneath you. He mistook your tension for annoyance as he moved through the pieces. You offered him no more verbal praise as he reached the end of each poem but simply motioned him on with your hand. By the time he finished the last piece, he was completely discouraged.

As soon as the last word was out of his mouth, you jumped up from your curled up position in the chair without so much as a look in his direction as you grabbed your wallet and keys and headed for the door. You had to get out of here, get away from him.

“I’ll email you what we’re going to do next week,” you hurriedly explained mid-stride, “I think that’s enough poetry. I’ll come up with something different.”

You grabbed the knob, the metal cool against your burning skin and pulled to open the door when a hand placed over the upper frame prevented the door from opening. You turned and met B/N’s deflated gaze as he slumped against the door frame, blocking your exit. He couldn’t hide his disappointment. You still had another hour left in the agreed session time, not that he had ever really worried about it before since you usually went over. You hadn’t even started a discussion about the poems themselves. He had done that badly and you were fed up with it. He ran his other hand through his dark hair, frustrated, not noticing your eyes dilate slightly at the gesture.

“We don’t have to stop poetry, please,” he implored, his eyes sad and his stature screaming defeat, “I’m so sorry. I’ll practice more. I’ll get it right. I actually really like it. I would like to get it right. Please don’t give up on me. I promise I’ll work harder. I’ll get it.”

You stared back at him silently as you hosted an internal debate inside of your head. He looked so upset. You couldn’t let him leave thinking he had done so badly. You knew he worked hard. You were consistently impressed with him every week. He never let you down and this week was no exception. It wasn’t his fault you couldn’t control yourself, but how did you say this without ruining your professional relationship…

“B/N, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you exclaimed, sighing as you crossed your arms tightly over your chest after setting your keys and wallet onto the small table by the door, “Your poetry was amazing. It was captivating, musical even. It was everything poetry was supposed to be and more. You completely surpassed my expectations, as usual. ”

“Wait, what?” B/N asked, standing up a little straighter at your revelation but now even more confused, “I thought you were annoyed with me or something I had said wrong. You’ve been acting differently today. If it isn’t my speech what is it? Are you okay?”

Were you okay? Ha. That was a very good question that you didn’t even know the answer to…

“No, B/N, your speech is excellent,” you corrected shaking your head and adverting your gaze from him, guilt and renewed heat overtaking you, “I just, I’m just distracted. I’m sorry. You deserve better than this. I promise I will be better next week. You just keep doing what you’ve been doing with studying and pretty soon you aren’t going to need me.”

“What’s distracting you?” he pressed, bending down to try and catch your eye again but you kept your eyes firmly on the ground, “You look upset.”

You ran a hand through your hair as you sighed deeply. Oh this was about to be so bad…

“B/N, I…I just,” you bit your lip as you struggled to find the right words, “Look, I know our relationship is strictly professional and I’m sorry I don’t want to violate your trust. I don’t want to cross a line. I just…You know good and well you’re a very attractive man and normally I can get past that. I mean our other sessions were fine…Today, I just…Your voice…The way you read poetry. God, B/N you were meant to read poetry. Your voice, the things it does to me. You, just you in general are too much for me today. I can’t take much more. I’m going to—”

You clamped your mouth shut as you realized you were saying way more than was necessary.  Your feet shuffled back and forth nervously as you took a deep breath and braved looking up at your employer. You could almost see the thought process happen in his eyes as the dots slowly began to connect. His eyes widened briefly as the implication of your words became clear before they narrowed on your face.

You braced yourself for his furious rebuttal. He was probably going to fire you. Could you blame him?

Instead of responding his hand began to slide slowly down the wooden door frame until it reached the dull golden lock. His gaze took on a new intensity that had your toes curling as he slowly turned the lock, separating you two from the rest of the outside world without breaking your stare. He moved to step towards you and you took a step back, fire surging through your blood.

You moved in sync until you backed into one of the study tables that had been on the opposite side of the room. You couldn’t move but he didn’t stop until he had you pinned tightly between the wood and his body. One of his hands rose to grip your jaw, not painfully but firmly, as the other wrapped around your waist. Without hesitation, he leaned forward to capture your lips in a kiss that took your breath away and would have had you in a puddle on the floor had you not been so tightly pinned to the table and had B/N’s hand wrapped tightly around your waist. Like his poetry, his lips were more than you could have imagined them to be, soft but hungry as they pulled fervently at yours. A quiet moan rose from the back of your throat as his tongue broke through your lips and quickly dominated yours. You lost yourself in the kiss as you desperately gripped each side of his jacket to have something to anchor yourself with.

All too soon, B/N broke the kiss as he pulled back from you slightly but his eyes remained closed as his tongue coated his lips as if savoring your taste. His eyes then slowly opened again to lock yours in another intense stare.

“If my voice has such an effect on you, I desperately want to see what I can do to you without saying another word.” There was no flaw in his English as the statement left his lips and his voice was even huskier as overwhelming desire began to build inside of him.

As if his voice didn’t already have you on the edge, his hand dropped from your waist to grip your ass firmly and pull you roughly forward to lock your pelvises together like two pieces of a sensitive puzzle. A louder moan dripped from your lips as you wrapped you leg around his upper thigh and pressed him even more tightly against you, forcing the pieces closer together, seeking more friction, more of him. God, it wasn’t enough. Nowhere close.

“More,” you quietly but greedily demanded as you rolled your hips into him and slid your hands over and around his abdomen to dig your fingers into the skin covering his back.

   A needy groan escaped his lips as your hips ground over his quickly growing erection, his grip tightening as he bent his head forward to capture the shell of your ear between his teeth.

“Oh yeah,” he breathed harshly into your ear, “That’s enough of me. For the remainder of this session we’re going to focus on that pretty little voice of yours…” 


Sometimes when you lose your way, it’s really just as well…”

Something about this picture I just find really powerful. This was my favourite image in the credits at the end of Cars, but it was so small! I tried to find the exact same angle of images and meshed them together myself for a bigger (and more enjoyable) version.

we’ll make amends along the road

Summary: It’s when a guy and a girl like each other, says his voice again, and she knows that like is not enough but cannot think of another word to replace it and instead grins at him and tells him he needs a shower, that she won’t dance with him until he stops smelling like the ship.

Later, with the Zune playing on the table and Mantis and Groot playing the role of delighted audience to their dance practice, Peter’s face suddenly softens and he says, “Hey, my mom loved this song,” tossed easily out into the room.

And Gamora thinks, oh.

literally can y’all believe that i wrote this in three days!!! i actually cant believe i wrote this At All!!! that i typed it with my own two hands!! anyways it’s ironically a bit more serious and Emotional than my other guardians fics, despite being ridiculously tropey and indulgent. it also doesn’t contain nearly as much of the Gang as i would have liked, but really [ronswansonscreaming.gif] i’m happy with it ultimately. disclaimer: if you read this and think to yourself, “hey, that final scene sequence reads very much like once upon a time season three episode twenty one “snow drifts”’s most iconic scene sequence” then u are one hundred percent correct and i am offering a free admission right here without shame that i totally wrote this whole thing for the sole purpose of Doing That. its not entirely my fault; @taxicabsandcupcakes enabled me shamelessly. title’s from supertramp and bad back to the future scenarios for the purposes of characters falling in love is probably trademarked by abc. enjoy!

It is on a very ordinary day cycle that Gamora starts thinking about the word like. They are busy hauling building materials, synthetic pieces of Nova-built equipment, contracted to help with the rebuilding of a Xandarian peace outpost on N’ma Two. It’s a simple job, an easy job, a job for people who are still just barely holding together at the seams. Gamora takes a moment late in the afternoon to still, take a deep breath of the moon’s air, and be thankful. The air smells floral, fresh rather than cloying. It fills her lungs rapidly and eases out as swiftly as it came in.

She turns back to the Nova officers passing up energy packs to the people perched on the higher scaffolding and pauses, hand caught against the crates she was about to pick up, watching as Peter exchanges a warm, full-bodied grin with one of the officers he’s working alongside. It’s been a day filled with the simple labour of heavy lifting and fielding cargo and keeping a lazy eye out for unlikely signs of trouble, and she could see the goodness of it earlier, in Rocket’s laughter and Groot’s energy, Drax’s good humor and the way Mantis held her shoulders. Gamora watches, eyes skating over the dust prints on the hem of his shirt and the grease streaking through clumped locks of his hair where he’d inevitably ran a hand through it at some point during the day. Peter’s characteristic, casual affection is evident in the slope of his torso and the tilt of his head, and in the familiar offer of friendship in his laugh. The officer alongside him smiles, equally at ease, and grips his shoulder before moving on to help someone else with some other straightforward task.

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Jaehyun & #62: “Do you have a ride home?”

Thanks to everyone who has been requesting! They are still open and I’ll still be doing this for about another week. Just until finals are over and I’m finished moving. I’ll finish all requests from this no matter what though so feel free to still send them in!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, some creepy bar people.

Clubs definitely were not your scene. They were even less your scene when the guy you were supposed to be meeting was twenty minutes late and you were pretty sure you were being stood up at this point. You sighed, stirring the straw of your drink lazily as you glanced around at the dancing bodies on the floor. You checked your phone again, feeling slightly annoyed at the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you he wasn’t going to show. You stood up, heading over to the bathroom, unaware of the group of men that had been watching you since you entered the facility.

You didn’t take long, just staying in their long enough to readjust your hair and apply a new layer of mascara. You walked back out, taking your seat at the bar again and playing with the straw of your drink again. You had just started to pick it up when you felt someone wrap an arm around your shoulders, nudging you to set the drink back down.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, something came up at work.” The stranger took a seat in the stool next to you, slipping a piece of paper into your hand in the process.

You gave him a strange look, but unfolded the paper anyway.

My name is Jaehyun, pretend you know me. There are some guys at a booth who have been watching you for a while, one of them put something in your drink.

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'Fast & Furious' Cheat Sheet: Untangling the Franchise's Twisted Timeline Prior to 'F8' (Spoilers!)
‘The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift’ (2006): (Left to right) Bow Wow, Lucas Black, Nathalie Kelley, Brian Tee. (Photo: Everett)

Most franchises have a chronology that unfolds in a straight line. The Fast and the Furious series, on the other hand, took a major detour along the way. If you’re planning to start your binge engines and re-watch the seven previous Fast films — or fill a gap in your F&F experience — before movie no. 8, The Fate of the Furiousarrives on April 14, you might want to consult our primer as a reminder how to shuffle the movies around to watch events unfold in chronological order, which is NOT as simple as following its production order. (Warning: Spoilers for all previous ‘Fast & Furious’ films follow.)

[Ed. Note: This story was originally published in 2015; it has been updated to reflect Furious 7.]

The Fast and The Furious (2001)
-Los Angeles undercover cop Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker) infiltrates a crew of street racers led by Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) suspected in a series of local truck heists.

-O’Conner falls for Toretto’s sister Mia (Jordana Brewster).

-Dom is committed to steady girlfriend Letty (Michelle Rodriguez).

-After suspecting rival racer Johnny Tran (Rick Yune) is ripping off the trucks, Brian discovers that Dom is definitely the guilty party. Rather then arrest the guy who’s become his friend, he hands over the keys to his own car, and they go their separate ways: Brian to Miami and Dom to Baja.

2 Fast 2 Furious (2003)
-The short film, Turbo-Charged Prelude, depicts Brian’s journey to Florida’s sun-dappled party town, where he hooks up with street-race organizer Tej (Chris “Ludacris” Bridges), races under the codename Bullet — and becomes one of America’s Most Wanted due to the whole “letting Dom go” thing.

-Caught by the U.S. Customs Service, Brian is forced to go back undercover — in partnership with his childhood buddy Roman Pearce (Tyrese Gibson) — to help deep-cover Customs agent Monica Fuentes (Eva Mendes) bring down drug kingpin Carter Verone (Cole Hauser).

-Brian and Roman successfully capture Carter, get their records expunged, and line their own pockets with spare drug money. O’Conner suggests he’s ready to put down roots in Miami, with Pearce serving as the Riggs to his Murtaugh.

Fast & Furious (2009)
-The short Los Bandoleros flash-forwards five years and finds Dom in the Dominican Republic, planning a heist with a new crew, including Han (Sung Kang), Leo (Tego Calderon), and Rico (Don Omar). Letty turns up, having followed his trail from Mexico, and signs up for the fuel-stealing operation that’s seen at the beginning of Fast & Furious. They also tie the knot in an off-screen ceremony, though we won’t know about that for three more movies.

-Han arrives in D.R. direct from L.A., where he made his first appearance in director Justin Lin‘s breakout 2002 crime movie, Better Luck Tomorrow. That earlier film isn’t directly connected to the Fast & Furious franchise, but both Lin and Kang have acknowledged over the years that it’s the same Han.

-Increased police vigilance during their fuel-tank raid forces Dom to ditch his girlfriend-wife and go on the lam once more. Three months later, Dom is in Panama City, where Mia calls him with the news Letty’s been murdered. He returns stateside to observe her funeral from a distance. Meanwhile, Brian — who has signed up with the FBI rather than continue to play Lethal Weapon with Roman — is on the trail of yet another drug runner…one who holds the key to figuring out who killed Letty.

-Brian and Dom reunite to attack the drug lord head-on, and this time Dom surrenders to the authorities rather than flee. Sentenced to 25 years-to-life, Dom is en route to the big house when Brian and Mia zoom by and initiate a prison-bus break.

Fast Five (2011)
-Once again fugitives from justice, Dom, Brian, and Mia head off to Rio de Janeiro where they reconnect with original Fast & Furious crew member, Vince (Matt Schulze). Their subsequent participation in a great train robbery puts Diplomatic Security Service agent Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) and Brazilian cop Elena Neves (Elsa Pataky) on the trio’s trail.

-Meanwhile, using information they’ve gathered from a computer chip outlining the criminal empire of Hernan Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida), Dom and Brian plot a heist to score one last big payday. That heist requires the participation of all their buddies, including Han, Tej, Roman, Leo, Rico, and Gisele (Gal Gadot), who converge on Rio to execute an Ocean’s Eleven-style scheme.

-Flush with cash, Brian and his now-pregnant girlfriend Mia head off to a tropical paradise where Dom drops by for a visit with his new lover, Elena. (Han and Gisele, meanwhile, take their partnership to the next level in Europe.) But back in the U.S., Customs agent Fuentes turns up at Hobbs’ office with evidence Letty isn’t as dead as everyone assumed.

Fast & Furious 6 (2013)
-Hobbs pulls Dom and the gang out of their post-Rio retirement to employ their special set of skills to stop the reign of terror propagated by a rogue British Special Forces officer, Owen Shaw (Luke Evans), whose ranks of vehicular soldiers include an amnesia-stricken Letty.

-The group stops Shaw, but Gisele is killed. Dom, now reunited with Letty, and Brian and Mia (with their infant son Jack) return to America and settle down in their old L.A. neighborhood for the first time since the original Fast and the Furious. Recognizing that three’s a crowd, Elena blesses the Dom/Letty reunion and decamps for parts unknown.

-Meanwhile, a grieving Han heads to Tokyo, where he’s in mid-chase when his ride is viciously T-boned by an oncoming car driven by…Shaw’s brother (Jason Statham), a sudden callback to…

The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (2006)
-Sean (Lucas Black), a rebellious Arizona teenager and gearhead, is sent to Tokyo to live with his military father after getting involved in one joyride too many. He soon falls into the city’s “drift racing” scene, learning the ropes of drifting from Dom’s old pal, Han.

-Midway through the movie, Han is killed in the aforementioned car chase that we see at the end of Fast & Furious 6. The identity of the other driver wasn’t revealed in this film, but there’s no doubt that Han is pushing up daisies after his car explodes.

-As the film ends, Sean is preparing to prove his drifting skills against a new challenger: Dom. The two pay homage to their fallen mutual friend and gun their engines…racing off, we learn in retrospect, to Furious 7, nine years after this film’s release.

Furious 7 (2015)
-Sure enough, Dom is in Tokyo to transport Han’s remains back to Los Angeles for burial, while it’s revealed that Owen Shaw isn’t dead, but lies comatose in a prison hospital. Meanwhile, Owen’s brother Deckard (Statham) sets his sights on Dom’s team in a grand revenge plan that sidelines Hobbs and blows up the Toretto household.

-Eager for his own revenge, Dom strikes a bargain with covert ops bigwig Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell) to steal the God’s Eye — a computer program that gives its user virtually unlimited spying power — in exchange for a shot at Deckard Shaw. The trail to the God’s Eye goes through hacker extraordinaire Ramsey (Nathalie Emmanuel), who becomes the team’s latest accomplice…and the object of Tej and Roman’s competing affections.

-Following a knock-down, drag-out fight on the streets of L.A., Deckard is sent to a top-secret underground prison. Letty shakes the final strands of amnesiac cobwebbing from her brain and is flooded with memories from their wedding night, when she and Dom exchanged a necklace rather than rings. They embark on their years-delayed honeymoon, while Brian and Mia head off into well-deserved retirement to raise their baby boy.

‘The Fate Of The Furious’ Featurette: Zombie Cars:

Read More from Yahoo Movies:

anonymous asked:

Anything with reader being self conscious (maybe dysphoria related stuff?) and hamilsquad consoling them?? -thank you and ily 💕🌸

Our Missing Queen
~Poly! Hamilsquad x reader
~Word count: 1057
~Warnings: Self- conscious and insecure reader and mentions of dysphoria (not dystrophia)
~Sorry for taking so long~~ Also I tried my best writing this request, if there’s a warning that I did not mention below, tell me because I want my readers to be comfortable with what they read~~ (Love you too~~)
~Tags: @interwebseriesfan24 @yayhamletnonstop

You were laying on your bed that you shared with your boys. You loved your boys so much. They were your rocks and they’ve been with you through everything. They had all gone to work except John. He was given today off, so he decided to run errands. You were scrolling through your phone at your social media, liking your friends pictures and looking at news about celebrities and the weather. Until you found yourself watching pictures of famous models. Skinny, tall and beautiful models.

You were always self- conscious of yourself ever since your family had a history of dystrophia related diseases. You, luckily, weren’t diagnosed with that but you found yourself more and more self- conscious of your face and body. You sat up and brought your knees close to your chest and started crying. You heard the door opened and the shaking of paper bags.

“(Y/N)? Are you awake darling?” John called out to you. When you didn’t respond to him, you heard the bags drop to the floor and footsteps head towards the bedroom door. “(Y/N)!” You called softly at you when he saw you crying. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” You couldn’t form the words but you gave him your phone, filled with pictures of skinny girls. “Darling…” He whispered to you. He took his shoes off and climbed on the bed. He slowly grabbed your shoulders and placed your head on his chest. You sobbed into his chest as he softly moved his hand up and down your back.

After a couple of minutes, you had calmed down. John placed his hand on your chin and lifted it up to face you.

“Do you want me to call the guys?” He asked you softly. You nodded slowly. He took his phone out of his pocket and started to type the guys phone number to make a phone call conversation. Before he clicked the green button, you spoke up a little. “If they’re not too busy.” You told John. “Of course darling.” He kissed your forehead softly as the phone rang on speaker.

“Hey babe.” Alex picked up the phone first. “Bonjour, mon ami.” Lafayette spoke next. “Hey guys. Is there something wrong?” Hercules picked up the phone last and asked with concern. “Yeah. (Y/N)’s not feeling well with herself today. She was wondering if you guys can come home, if it’s possible.” John answered the question, along with the question you wanted to ask. “Of course i can babe.” Alex said first. “I’m actually leaving right now.” “Me too mon amour.”  Lafayette quickly responded. “I’m already closing up the boutique.” Hercules said as you heard the keys shift at the lock. “Thank you..” You said to them over the phone. “Anything for you babe.” Alex said softly. “Anything you need mon amour.” Lafayette added. “We love you.” You felt a tear fall slide down your cheek as you gave a small smile. John hung up the phone and kissed the top of your head.

John held you and sat with you on the bed, whispering sweet nothings to you and peppering your cheek with soft kisses. Minutes later, you both heard the door open and your boys walked into rhe shared room.

“Hey babe.” Alex spoke softly to you as he kissed your cheek. “Mon amour.” Lafayette simply said as he kissed the back of your hand. “Hey honey. How are you doing?” Hercules asked as he kissed your forehead. “Just holding up fine.” You responded, not wanting to say more. John stroked your hair softly. “Well we bought you some new movies. The first movie of “Narnia” and “Saving Mr. Banks”.” Alex said, lightening the mood a little. “And we bought you your favorite ice cream flavor of the monsieur’s Ben and Jerry.” Laf smiled as you giggled at the lovely addition of ‘monsieur’ before the name of the ice cream brand. “And I got some new pajamas, an oversized Disney hoodie and some black shorts.” Herc finished with a smile. Your boys knew you so well.

You removed yourself from John’s arms and kneeled in the middle of bed, where you faced all of your boys.

“Thank you for doing this.” You started. “Thank you for taking care of me. I probably don’t deserve any of you guys.” You started to tear up. “Why would any of you would want to be with me?” Your voice broke up. “Because we love you.” John spoke to you as he grabbed your hands. “We love the way you are.” Alex spoke next. “And we don’t need a perfect supermodel that anyone can’t just get.” Laf added. “You are our perfect model. Perfect face, perfect body and most of all, perfect personality.” Herc finished as he walked over to the bed and kissed the top of your head. You started to tear up again as the sweet sentences your boys were saying to you. You felt the tears fall down your face again and then arms wrap around you. You were in the middle of a big, loving hug.

“We love you (Y/N).” John spoke for the boys. They all hummed in agreement as they started to pepper kisses all around you. “I love you all too.” You said softly.

After the loving and reassuring moment, you took a shower while your boys prepared the movie and the ice cream in their bowls. You go out of the shower and put on the new pair of pijamas that Hercules had got you. You walked out of the room and sat on the sofa with Alex and Herc as John and Laf brought the bowls. You had told your boys that you wanted to watch “Narnia” and they agreed happily. You were enjoying the movie until you started to drift off at the scene where the children met Aslan for the first time, where Aslan had told the children that they were the kings and queens of Narnia. You said his line softly as you fell asleep on John’s chest.

“You are the missing queen of Narnia, mon amour.” Laf stroked your leg. “And we won’t let out queen get away.” Herc said, looking at your peaceful face. “And we love her very much.” Alex said changing the line of the movie while he glanced to you and the boys.

Thank you for reading~~!!! Hope you liked it~! Any comments/ feedback, drop an ask~!!

lesbian loneliness:

sometimes, i disconnect. through either forgetfulness or shame (likely a combination of the two), i stray from lesbian feminism. stray from leading an adamant woman-centered life, all to make ease for myself in day-to-day functioning.  

let me go back to that first sentence.

sometimes i stray from lesbian feminism because i forget its importance. no, not entirely, of course. but sometimes i forget for my own peace of mind. if only for a moment, perhaps i could allow myself to forget the weight that a lesbian identity comes with. perhaps i could drift into the queer scene and find comfort there. but i can’t. and when i think i can, i am abruptly reminded– again and again– that i can’t. 

as i said before, i forget lesbian feminism intentionally so; i said this was for my peace of mind. that isn’t necessarily untrue, but to ignore the internal shame that took me to get to that point cannot be dismissed. there is much shame that goes into the lesbian soul and psyche. a lesbian is a woman who is not quite a woman; because woman had been male-designed to correspond with heterosexual– “pure” similes. in one sense or the other, lesbians know we are not those women, because that design is not one that was ever made for us. this leaves me in a peculiar situation: do i bond with other lgbt people, for longing of shared identity? do i bond with other women, for longing of female connection? do i allow myself to suppress my identity in one form or the other? do i remain adamant despite this, and allow heads to turn as i talk about the way i view the world?

in essence: how much shame do i feel for being a dyke today? 

sometimes, i don’t know that answer. 

sometimes, i try to find *the* answer. i long and wander and search. i talk to one woman, another gay person, desperately trying to find solace. what happens when i do not find it? well, i realize my forgetting lesbian feminism only put a bandaid on my pain. i’m left wondering if this was really survival after all. or was it just dyke hysteria? 

i can only allow my mind to drift away for so long. a lesbian and a jew, i am always on guard. i am reminded (each time), attempts of alleviating my distress–by way of disassociating–were foolish, maladaptive coping mechanisms.

there is always something, some event, that ruptures me back into my survival state– my constant lesbian state. because i know, as a lesbian, meandering through the day-to-days, the only woman who will be able to lift me up, carry this trauma, is myself. 

this is lesbian loneliness. 

(anyone may like/reblog, but only lesbians may directly interact.)