he does by double

anonymous asked:

I was watching marble hornets with my friend and he asked if slender man has an anus. Does he? Does it double as his mouth???? This is a very important matter

and if he does, what would his doodoo look like????

Taehyung at the BBMAs is gonna be a fucking blast. He’s gonna have everyone whipped in a matter of seconds. The camera men is gonna cut to him and his extra ass is gonna be snorting a line of crushed up smarties as he twerks on top of a table. He’s gonna have everyone floored by his god like visuals and amazing stage presence. By the end of it, Beyonce will name one of her twins Taehyung and the other V. 

anyway, gotta love that double standard in this fandom, ey?

vilde is constantly, constantly, being racist, ignorant, islamophobic to sana. in fact she’s been this ignorant since season 1. she’s been so rude at certain times. she’s stepped out of line so many times, and not just with sana, but with isak too. but, hey, she can still get all the chances in the world, right? bc she’s a “uwu soft pastel pink princess”. yeah, sure, give her all the chances, right???? despite being told by sana time and time again when she’s corrected her in the past, vilde STILL remains ignorant. but noooo, she gets all the chances.

last week, lol, more than 75% of this fandom were villainising, dehumanising, belittling, reducing even, when we found out he knew sana. y'all were calling him a manipulative liar, using isak as a rebound, a serial cheater, being ableist and biphobic as hell, even after y'all did the same thing to him in s3 and y'all found out he had bipolar. his struggles were already somewhat known, yet y'all still demonized him. don’t you dare deny that you weren’t. but what happened after friday’s clip? we got to know the full story and now everyone’s back on the “we love even!!!1111!!! never hated him ever!!!!” bandwagon again.

y'all literally slaughter sana at every chance you get. whether it be in 4:10 from last season, despite her apologising to isak and learning in 8:10. y'all called her a sly manipulative distrusting friend to isak when even and sana’s past came out. y'all slaughtered her for unfriending yousef bc your precious little romance was looking to be sinking like the fucking titanic, instead of understanding her struggle. but oh nooo, now y'all are back onto loving her once again, hey????? bc she’s googling “why can’t muslims marry non muslims?” and now that your precious little romance looks to be back on track, hmmmm????? lol i’m just waiting for y'all to turn on her once again tbh bc i know its gonna happen.

so, mikael reacts in the wrong manner. he freaked out when his best friend just all of a sudden made a pass at him bc he wasn’t expecting that. he was 17. he too had religion as a conflict for him. he stepped back. that was his mistake. he fucked up. yes you can say that he did wrong. call him out on his mistake. but y'all are slaughtering him?? y'all are calling him a rat and telling him to choke and die?? y'all are forgetting every other thing we learnt about mikael, that he and even were best friends, still has his number, doesn’t want the world to know about what happened bc its only gonna hurt everyone if the past is rehashed once again. y'all are out here calling muslims “extremists and vile homophobes”. and we haven’t even heard the guy give his side of the story yet!!!!???? but ya sure forgive magnus for spouting homophobic bullshit. its okay when he does it.

the double standard in this fandom is …. disgusting. and we all know exactly why that double standard exists.

4

“What beautiful gardens, Monsieur Poirot. It is so good of you to escort me.”
“I wanted to bring you somewhere that was worthy of you.”
“You mustn’t flatter me, Monsiuer Poirot. You will make me cry.”

“love" by jack zimmermann || a zimbits fic || 3.3k

“Come in.” Bitty thanks the lord for the legitimate reprieve from the essay he’s been painfully forcing himself through all afternoon.

Jack enters, looking happier than normal. Bitty sees why immediately, and the smile that came onto his face when he saw Jack slips right back into a frown. Jack’s holding another memory card.

“I’m got some new footage,” Jack says in confirmation of Bitty’s fears.

“Jack, you’ve got to stop giving me new material.”

Jack’s smile drops at Bitty’s harsh tone, and his eyebrows draw together in a way that would be adorable if not for the circumstance and the fact Bitty is the one to make them that way. “Why?”

“Coz, honey, it’s not gonna help.” Bitty’s too exhausted to bother being embarrassed that the endearment slipped out.

Jack opens his mouth lamely. He looks down at the memory card in his hand then back to Bitty with sad eyes.

“Sit down.” Bitty gestures to his bed, thankful that he made it earlier while procrastinating. He rubs his sore eyes as Jack perches on the bed, then sighs out.

“Your assessment is to create a two-minute video based on love, yes?”

Jack nods. Bitty rubs at his eyes again, thinking of how to be honest without being hurtful.

“You’re an amazing photographer, and it comes across.” Jack picks his head up, looking hopefully at Bitty. It breaks his heart to have to continue. “But there’s no story here. There’s no love. I mean, unless your story is that you really love your camera. I can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t help you make anything out of this.”

Bitty tries to make his voice gentle. Jack turns his head away from Bitty anyway, but not quick enough that Bitty can’t see the hurt.

Bitty’s happily been helping Jack with his AV assessment after Jack asked. He gets to spend time with Jack doing something that Jack loves. But now he owes it as a friend to tell Jack the truth, even if it makes them both sad.

“Sorry, Bits,” Jack mumbles, still not looking at him.

“It’s alright.” Bitty already feels a little guilty for springing it on Jack with no warning. He crosses his arms, then realises that may come across as defensive if Jack ever looks back at him, so rests them back on his knees. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, I just want you to do well.”

Jack gives a brisk nod, but still avoids looking back at Bitty.

Bitty’s not sure what else he can do for Jack, so he simply waits.

Jack clears his throat after a moment and stands up. He looks at the memory card before putting it into a pocket.

“Thanks anyway. Sorry for interrupting your essay.”

“It’s alright,” Bitty repeats, but Jack’s already out the door.

Bitty slumps into his seat and stares at his closed door. He really didn’t mean to hurt Jack, but he didn’t think what he said would be that much of a shock either. Jack’s not ignorant to emotion, no-matter what the news articles sometimes say about him.

He swings his chair back round to stare at his essay, starting up on it again as a distraction.

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*kicks the door down* hey you know what we should talk about the Keith Kick again. his legs are honestly a powerhouse please let his thighs be chunky 2k17.  

anonymous asked:

As inspiration form what happened to Mitch, can you write something about Nurse getting hit in the face with a puck

first of all, this is the funniest fucking prompt i’ve ever gotten, so thank you. also, he so would, oh my god, poor nursey

(for those of you unaware, this is the referenced hit.)

Nursey’s used to getting hit on the ice. He’s a d-man, it’s basically his job to take hits and dole them out.

Getting hit by a person and getting hit by a puck, though, are two very, very different things.

First of all, you tend to realize when you’ve been hit by a person–it’s pretty hard to miss. Hockey players are pretty big; when they slam into you, you notice. But at least they’re only usually moving twenty miles an hour, tops.

Pucks, on the other hand, can fly around eighty miles an hour.

That’s fast.

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GOT7 REACTS TO: Finding hickies on their necks

Anon Asked:  Got7 reaction when they see hickey’s on their neck from the last night…😉😉

Literally just about every got7 request is sexual. you guys are nASTEE - Admin Dayna


Mark

The long lean string bean is a little (a lottle) embarrassed. He’s not necessarily ashamed of it, but feels awkward when it darkens or is in a spot that can easily be noticed by others. 

Mark tries extra hard to wear clothes that’ll cover it up. Sometimes, he traces his fingers over the hickie and thinks about the night before and his ears will get all red. For the most part he looks calm and collected - nobody suspects their bean is a siNNER.

Originally posted by j-miki

Jaebum

Doesn’t give an actual fuck. He gave a fuck - that’s how the hickie got there (huehuehuehue) but he isn’t going to go out his way to pretend it isn’t a thing. If people see, they see. If he happens to be doing an interview, he’d cover it up with makeup - just to avoid any scandals or rumors - but for the most part… he sees it, smirks, and forgets about it as the day goes on.

Originally posted by magiccastles

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Balcony Scene (ALiL Deleted Scene)

Summary: (College!AU): In which an impromptu performance of Shakespeare occurs at the foot of your stairs.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,558

A/N: @snugglebuck requested: Omg so I just say this prompt list and one of them was “i was on my balcony and you started loudly quoting romeo and juliet at me” and all I could think about was ALIL and Bucky doing this or like even when the reader is at the top of a staircase and like even better when he’s drunk or something. This takes place between “The Honeymoon Phase” and “Jealousy”

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - I can’t thank you enough for always editing my stuff for me. 

Originally posted by sixsunflowersbloom

After what felt like an endless day of classes, you decide to treat yourself to a night off. In order to fully enjoy yourself, you change into the coziest pajamas you can find and take all of your best snacks out of hiding. Once you’ve gotten everything you need in order, you close the door to your room and turn off the lights. The darkness adds to the overall movie theater atmosphere that you want to create for your night of Netflix and relaxation.

You’re halfway through your second movie when your door flies open. The bright light from the hallway is a shock to your system and you cover your eyes automatically, blindly searching for the space bar on your laptop to pause what you’re watching. “What?”

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private tutor | part one

request from anon: Can I request a namjoon in college!au? It can be about anything! Maybe a tutor? Thanks and I love your writing!!

Originally posted by yoonkooks

[Namjoon x Reader]

Genre: College!au, Humor

Words: 3535

—> “I am brilliant, thank you very much. But if you don’t have a form of payment, I’m afraid I will have to decline your proposal.” You fall to your knees, hands clasped together, “Please, Namjoon; I’m willing to do anything.” The last word causes him to look away from his book and down at you, taking in your rather pathetic self. A smirk stretches across his lips, “Anything?”

A/N: Joonie can tutor me any day ;) hope you guys like this part one/intro of this series (i’m thinking three parts?)! xoxo


Well, this is awkward.

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It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

The thing about being somewhat of a “celebrity” is that everyone wants a piece of you. And being in the spotlight comes with the expectation that you owe your fans something in return for their support. Kent loves social media. He loves Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, all of it. Which makes it a little easier to fill that expectation, to give his fans something more than just goals and wins. It certainly makes it easier for him than it is for guys like Jack, who seem to break out in hives just thinking about social media.

Kent’s 1.4 million followers on Twitter, 1.2 million followers on Instagram (2.5 million when you combine his account with Kit’s) and over 800K followers on Snapchat make him one of the most followed athletes in the world. He’s by far the most followed hockey player, with more followers than some of the NHL teams themselves. He keeps all three running pretty well. Mainly because he enjoys it, he loves sharing his life with his fans.

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John’s dick is Chekov’s gun

It only came to our attention recently that Chekov’s gun as a symbol was being used in Sherlock series 4, however, it’s actually been the main motivator behind Sherlock for the last seven years. “Chekov’s gun” is a writing technique, that says don’t put unnecessary details into your stories.

So when we saw John’s gun at the beginning of A Study in Pink:

We knew that by the end of A Study in Pink, he was going to fire it:

However, there’s more to John’s gun in A Study in Pink than most people might realize. 

We hear Moriarty introduce himself in The Great Game by asking, “Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in you pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Sherlock replies, “Both”. 

Here is explicit proof that guns in this show are meant to be seen as penises. Sherlock just compared an erection to that gun. It happens later in The Abominable Bride, as well, if you think I’m just making this all up.

“It’s dangerous to finger a loaded firearm in the pocket of one’s dressing gown, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Considering this is all in Sherlock’s head and Sherlock is horribly repressed, Moriarty mentioning that gun/dick again only slides home this symbol.

And if you needed any more proof, here’s a picture of Sherlock thinking about Moriarty maintaining eye contact while getting on his knees and putting a gun on his tongue:

Is it even subtext anymore when they’ve openly admitted guns are penises? 

This all brings me back to Chekov’s gun and A Study in Pink.

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anxiety-pidgeon-deactivated2017  asked:

ok ok for the langst thing, lance is having a bad day or something and someone (you can decide who) gives him a hug and he jus breaks down sobbing because it reminds him of his mom (going off of the moment at the party when he says he misses his moms hugs) sorry this is badly written bYE

*folds hands nicely* thank you for your ask

OKA Y NOW FAM LISTEN THIS SHITS GONNA BE WILD

- Lets start with the leader of the group and space dad, shiro. He finds Lance sulking in the observatory with a look on his face Shiro hasn’t seen on the blue paladin before. He looks tired, but not just tired, exhausted. In every meaning of the word. Shiro himself is used to the feeling but seeing it on such a carefree positive soul hurts his heart. He walks over to Lance and sits down next to him, hesitant to put his hand on Lance’s shoulder, and only then does the blue paladin come out of his homesick trance.

With a quick plastered on smile and tired eyes, he greets Shiro and though his voice holds no annoyance, Shiro can tell Lance doesn’t want him there. Doesn’t want to burden him, or worry him with his own stupid problems. The ache in Shiro’s heart grows and he hesitates to get closer, he doesn’t know Lance that well but he knows he needs someone and its Shiro’s job and a leader and family member to reassure him. (Also Lance staring out into space reminded Shiro of a heartbroken puppy, needing love and affection)

He pulls Lance into a slightly awkward hug. But once he hears the paladin sob and bury his face in his shoulder, it becomes bone-crushing. Lance then clutches back and weeps while weakly trying to tell Shiro about everything, his homesickness, his insecurities, his feelings. Shiro can’t understand but he just rubs Lance’s back and shushes him. Promising everything would be okay and never letting him go.

- Next is Hunk, the yellow paladin had woken up early from a bad dream he cant even remember and decided he should just have breakfast early instead of uselessly trying to go back to sleep.

A giant empty castle is not only lonely but creepy too, so naturally, he decides to wake up Lance. They were close enough that Hunk wouldn’t be anxious about bothering him and he could make it up to him by cooking something if he really disturbed his friend’s beauty sleep. When he gets to his room he doesn’t waste his time knocking, knowing his friend would have Pidge’s headphones on to help him sleep. He opens the door and almost does a double take on what he sees.

Lance sitting up with his pillow crushed in his embrace, weeping into the fabric and shaking violently. Hunk assumes Lance had the same problem as him and had a nightmare and immediately acts. Grabbing a pillow with one hand and stroking Lance’s hair with the other, the yellow paladin had his friend in his arms, one arm cradling his back whilst the other still stroked his hair comfortingly.

He began to reassure Lance that they all had nightmares and it was okay to talk to him. He started listing the blurry details of the dream he had before Lance coughed out a sob, weeping hard enough to struggle breathing. Hunk tries to soothe him for a while and after a few minutes Lance’s sobbing calmed down to gasping breaths. His grip on Hunk’s shoulders turn harsh and tells him it wasn’t a dream. Hunk freezes and asks what it was that made him cry. Lance whispers, “Myself.”

- Now we have Pidge, working hard on her computer whilst everyone is sleeping. Or should be. After a few hours when Pidge’s eyes start to sting from staring at a screen for so long, the mice come to her acting more frantic then usual. She asks them whats wrong (as if they could answer) before she realizes two of them are missing. Assuming the worst, she gets up and asks the remaining mice to guide her to the others. They run off into the dark halls and Pidge certainly didn’t expect what she found.

Lance, curled up with tears in his eyes, quietly venting to the mice on his shoulder and in his hair (seemingly trying to comfort him) Pidge listens in to hear him crying over his family, and the way he talks of his siblings reminds her of her own. She realizes how much of a brother Lance has been to him over their time in space and clutches her sweatshirt as he begins to speak about his flaws and insecurities. She listens and listens and knows she shouldn’t but she can’t help but eavesdrop and let guilt fill her as she hadn’t been a good little sister to the blue paladin as he was to her.

At one point she cant listen anymore and practically collapses onto Lance, frantically apologizing and sympathizing with his longing for his family. She rambles and rambles, afraid when she stops Lance will yell at her for listening to things that weren’t her business. But sometime through her rant, Lance’s hand comes up to stroke her hair and she stops instantly. Looking up at the boy she saw tears pouring from his eyes, seemingly not affecting the growing smile on his face. A smile that showed…relief. They continue to vent to each other, crying in each others arms.

- And last but not least, Keith. Going off to the training room as he did everyday, he noticed something off, the sounds of metal clanging and laser shots came from within. Once he opened the door, he saw Lance training, but he wasn’t the same as the goofy paladin he argued with that morning. That paladin always had a smile on his face, tries to find a joke in every situation to lighten the mood but this paladin was not him. This paladin, let out an aura of frustration. His everything just screamed with anger, lack of patience, and spite.

Keith was snapped out of it when the gladiator landed a nasty kick to Lance’s side and watched his paladin fly back with a yelp of pain. He flinched when the blue paladin yelled out with frustration and practically growled, “End the simulation.” Keith was about to step in when Lance grabbed his bayard only to throw it against the wall with a shout.

Keith coughed in an attempt to grab his attention but it went unnoticed as his teammate picked his bayard back up and ordered the simulation to start again. Keith crossed his arms and waited, watched Lance hastily aim all around his enemy but only landing two shots. Usually the paladin kept his cool, was patient when aiming for the right shot but here he was, well, a lot more like Keith. Right before the gladiator landed another nasty hit, Keith took action.

“End simulation!”

Lance whipped around and saw Keith, arms crossed with an angry look on his face. Well, he almost always looked angry but here he was obviously thinking. Hard.

Probably judging how awful Lance was at fighting. And after a solid minute of silence, Lance couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t just stand there! Go on! Tell me what a fuck up i am!”

Keith’s expression dropped.

“When will I be good enough for you?! For anyone!” His voice wavered as he yelled at the ground. Then he gave up, and let the tears fall. Keith slowly walked towards his friend before letting a few tears of his own fall.

“You always were.” And he pulled Lance into a hug that was instantly returned.

Daddy’s girl | JUGHEAD JONES X BETTY COOPER | SMUT PT ONE

REQUESTED IMAGINE!  @myterribletwenties  so it can start like when Betty and Jughead start taking things further, they start teasing each other in public as part of a bet of who can drive the other crazier to the point of no return, you know? It can be a smut series of like him pleasure-torturing her and vice versa until they finally have fun and kinky sex. I can see Betty being the one who drives Jughead craaaazy but idk it’s up to you on who you’d want to win. 


[ I kinda go with the plot anddd yeaa lets see what happens ] 

A/N: First thing first. I want to say how sorry I’am because I had an amazing vision towards this imagine but sadly I cant write it like I wanted to because I don’t have enogh time for anything. And I know you wait so long for it and 
I am so angry at myself that I didn’t give myself 100% for it. And its kinda making me sad and depressed = smad .
But I just hope you will like it. And tell me if you don’t like something. 

WARNING(S): Dirty language, swearing, smut af, daddy kink, teasing and mentions of smoking’ Betty Cooper is a SAVAGE  mentions of southside serpents like if we care. and mentions of Bryce Walker u know him. 
not edited yet

CHARACTER(S): Jughead Jones x Betty Cooper (mom and dad) 

Don’t read if you're under 18 (lmao just kidding again) 


Having an unspoken bond can mean a lot of things. Many people have the tendency to throw the term around to lovers, friends, and sibilings without knowing the genuine and authentic meaning behind it. 

Although, a meaning doesn’t have to be one with words. In fact, I believe a word that is expressed stronger through emotion is more meaningful that a word know by it’s definition from a world-know dictionary application just a click away. 

An unspoken bond can be shown in action, words, even colliding lips. It’s by the way they lean towards you a bit more to make you feel safe and secure. It’s by the way they know that you’re saying when your eyes are the only ones speaking. 

It’s magical. Yet, it’s the most dangerous and hear-on-the-line bond, because putting your entire self into one’s trust goes either ways: they hold onto you for dear life, or they let you burn. 

Now of course, I only came to think of this deep shit at half past one in the morning. I can’t sleepm and I don’t know whether it’s because I’ve had too much coffe to drink or because of this beautiful sight snoring his fucking brains out beside me. 

I slowly slide Jughead’s arm from around my waist to his side, slipping out of the sheets as quietly as I can. Before walking to the door, I slide off my pants, leaving me in my panties and shirt. Finally. I feel alive again. 

As the cold air hits my thigs, I stretch my back and walk to Jughead’s slightly open room door, slipping out with dangerous tip-toe’s. 

The only light coming from the darkness of the house is the single kitchen light hanging over the counter. I walk down the stairs, going straight for the fridge. 

I lean against the cold metal, scanning through the beverages until my eyes spot a familiar one. I grab two bottles of milk, settling them down slowly on the counter behind me. 

I latch the fridge back within itself before I take a seat on one of the stools surrounding the counter. Why I’m drinking milk at almost two in the morning? I don’t know. Am I enjoying it? Yes. The answer is always yes. 

I hear certain footsteps skipping down the stairs, soon revealing the undoubteddly messy dark locks and shirtless skin belonging to no other that him. I sit up straight, watching as he walks closer to me. 

My eyes meet his, though we both don’t speak. Instead, he grabs the bottle of milk sitting in front of me, eyes still not leaving mine as he chugs a good amount of it down his throat. His hand goes up to wipe the remaining around the corner of his mouth before he sets it down. Talent, my friends. 

I watch his naked back walk to the highest cabinet, reaching up and shoving off his toned body, muscles and all. I’d lick cake off him any time, any where. 

He reaches down after grabbing a small white box, still giving me his back as he fumbles with it. I assume it’s a cigarette box when he reaches for the lighter, the clicking sound of it evident through the quiet house. 

I turn my stool completely around to face his back, leaning elbows behind me as I watch him put the cigarette in his mouth, blowing it in the air towards the celling. I shouldn’t find this to describe for words, but in my defense, he can make a hot dog consume look hot. 

The smoke emitting artistically from his pouted pink lips, his naked skin glowing due to shine of the moonlight entering the house through windows and cracks. He’s beautiful annd he’s mine. 

Leisurely, he begins inching closer to me, the cigarette held between his fingers almost like it’s meant to be there. I can only imagine the times he’s smoked invisible to my presence. Does he smoke when he’s stressed? When he’s bothered? I crave knowing, even the littlest things about him. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” his throaty voice inquires, suspending smoke into the air overlooking him. 

“Honestly,” I chuckle, “just you.” 

In swift seconds I feel his body is between my legs, a strong hand grabbing ahold of my head, fingers lacing into the roots of my hair. Tilting my neck to his liking. I feel his lips come into contact with mine tightly. The sudden action takes me by surprise, making me gasp. 

The way his lips move along makes me dizzy. I crave the way he latches his wet lips with mine so desirably like the last thing on his mind is letting go. 

My arms go around his waist in instinct, pulling him closer if even possible. His tongue enters my mouth, caressing and exploring, triggering a moan to escape my lips. Our lips keep a perfomance, heating the clousure of our bodies. 

His kisses become lower in pace, teasing me as he bites my lower lip, breathing into my mouth. I almost feel my knees buckling right then and there.. 

Jughead pulls away but keeps his lips at close proximity to mine, panting heatedly into my partet one’s. I gain feeling to his toned body pressed against mine, the sultriness radiating off his naked chest and shoulders. 

“Babe,” I mumble, pulling him back by waistband of his sweatpants, connecting our lips back together. 

I feel a chuckle escape his lips before his sweet taste fills my mouth once again. Peppering my sweet repeated kisses onto his lips, a smile forms onto his mouth. God, I could do this all damn day. 

“Baby,” he mumbles between kisses. “Let’s go for a ride,” he suggest, both of his hands easing from my hair and settling onto the sides of my neck, drawing shapes onto the naked flesh. 

“What?” I furror my eyebrows curiously. 

“I wanna take you somewhere,” he pulls back, confidence filling his posture and satisfaction in his words. He disposes the cigarette into the bin beside him, licking his lips afterwards. “Right now.” he determinates. 

Dammit, Jughead,” I groan. “I swear if it’s some new twenty four hour taco place like the last time, I’ll personally make sure you die mid-orgasm.” 

Ah, the true meaning of pleasure and pain. You know wha’d be funny? The cause of death: died halfway through coming. Lame ass. 

You know what’d be funnier? Saying “I’m glad you could come,’ to the guests at the funeral and having them reply. “Too bad your boyfriend didn’t.” 

I may or may not go to hell for the things I think at two in the morning. 

“Oh come on baby, now that’s just mean.” he shakes his head, faking sadness. 

I might be in love with him now but the urge to kick him in the balls hasn’t left since the day I met him. 

“It’ll be worth it, I promise and I can’t belive I’m gonna say this but I’m gonna go get you something to throw on, give me a sec,” he raies his finger, disappearing into his room up the stairs. 

Not even a minute later, he comes back with his torso fully clothed and his shoes on, carrying a pair of sleeping shorts I’ve left here once and my shoes. 

“I’ll go start the car, don’t be late,” he hands me the clothing pices, placing a sweet kiss to my forehead before he grabs his keys from the counter. 

I wiggly my feet into the shorts and pull them up, watching them hang loose and wide around my waist. Messily putting on my shoes, I follow him to the car, making sure to lock the door behind me. 

“You good, princess?” Jughead asks, holding onto the steering wheel. 

I shut the door, smiling in response. He does a double take, smilling at me in a question before he speaks. “Can I ask you something?” he inquires geninly. 

“Of course,” I lean into the seat. 

“You always had your hair up– when we met I mean, now you always have it down. You said you liked it up, but that wasn’t the case wasn’t it?” he smiles widely. 

A wide smile conquers my lips at his theory. It’s incredible how much he notices. I turn to him, my cheeks beginning to burn from smiling too widely. “Just drive, butt boy,” I fold my arms over my chest. 

“Your hair’s your guard, itsn’t it? You let your guard down for me, that’s why you let yourself wear it down around me.” he smiles, eye glistening and all. 

I let out breathy chuckle. “What can I say? You took my breath away.” 

He chuckles as he shaking his head in response. I hear him kick off the engines and begin his drive to whatever he want’s to take me at two in the morning. 

The streets are quiet, almost dead. I’ts crazy how at the same exact time right now at different places around this same place, everyone is in bed and possibly in the same position, asleep. 

The quietness echoes like seas of tranquility. My mind dozes off whike my body falls into the comfort of his warmth filling the car. I lean into the seat, making myself comfortable as i feel like this would be a long drive. 

Five minutes into the drive and I’m already feeling the need to throw myself outside this window. I cannot take this. 

Although the silence is comfortable between us, I can’t seem to get my mind off everything that’s happened right on the hood of this car. 

God damn, I remember is so clearly. His fingers, his talented, long, pleasureable fingers. They could do wonders, and I can’t keep my eyes off them tightened around the stirring wheel. 

I feel my mouth begin to gape apart, and so I shock myself back into reality, trying to focus on anything but the talented things he could do with that body. 

I sit up straight, sighing out in frustration before leaning towards Jughead’s side of the seat. I move my hand and place it on his thigh. “Jug,” I groan, gradually moving my hand upwards. “Where are we going?” I rub my thumb in circples into his inner thigh, seeing his arms tighten around the wheel and his back shoot up straight. 

“Almost there, princess,” he answers sternly, turning the wheel to a complete left. My hand stays on his thigh, mindlessly caressing his cloth covered skin. 

The car comes to a halt on the side of an unfamiliar road. There doesn’t seem to be life anywhere around a five block radius from this place. 

The lack of houses tell me this place itsn’t familly friendly. I can also tell from the strip club in the corner of this area. 

I look at Jughead in confusion, waiting for an explanation. He nods his head to me and unlocks the car doors, stepping out as he looks both ways. 

I follow his lead, stepping outsid of the car and going to Jughead’s side. Immediately, he takes a hold of my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine tightly before he starts walking, pulling me with him. 

Walking around the unknown area, Jughead’s hand hasn’t decreased in tightness. His eyes wander around the place every seconds before he pulls me closer. I only hope he isn’t planning on feeding me some jungle animals or something like that. 

We reach a gate, a big black one at that. Jughead uses his free hand to pull it up, giving me lovely viev of his perfectly build biceps. He holds it up, nodding at me to cross under. I do as told, waiting for him to cross under with me. 

The loud bang of th gate’s latching to the ground floor startles me, making Jughead to pull me to his side, rubbing his thumb over our already laced hands. 

“I’ve got you,” he unsures, moving us to another door located in the corner of the area into the gate. 

This place give me the chills. I don’t like it. 

I move behind Jugead’s shoulder, leaning my head against him as he contemplates the lock of the door. 

Presently enogh, I hear an opening sound. 

“Jug, you’re kinda scaring me,” I admit hesitantly, moving my head from his shoulder. 

He doesn’t reply, but squeezes my hand. A gesture that makes me wanna melt into him once again. 

We walk into a hallway, showcasing one the other gate door right in the center. 
Jughead turns to look at me, giving me a smile before his hand moves to push open the door. 

My mouth almost falls open as my brain registers the place I’m in. A wide open stadium with a fighting rink located in the middle of it. The largeness of the room is wide enogh to create schoes. 

I see blood scattered around the dirt floors, making me flinch to think about Jughead. An old bar is set in the left corner, seats for audiences are placed all around the rink, fitting more that three hundred people just for sitting. 

“Welcome in Southside S.” Jughead’s free arm opens wide, a smirk forming onto his lips. His movements come to a stop making me stand alongside him, taking in the area. 

“Those two weeks ago, when you didn’t go to school at all,” I turn to him, my hand still in his. “This was where you were?” I raised my eyebrow in pure curiosity. 

“Yes,” he nods. 

“Everytime you left, you were here?” i furrow my eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he smiles sadly. “I don’t regret not telling you about this. I knew it’d kill you, and I knew you’d try to stop me,” he shrugs, pushing his body closer to mine. 

“What’s his name?” I asked  

He shook his head closing his beautiful eyes for a moment “Bryce.. I have to fight with him, for my mom sake, babygirl” 

I let go of his hand, taking both of mine and wrapping them around his waist. He takes no time to bring his arms around my neck, rocking me back and fourth gently. 

“It’s not worth it Jughead.” 

“Look at me,” he mumbles, pushing his body even closer to mine. I keep my eyes down, not trusting myself to look into his. “Look at me.” he demands, pulling my chin up with his fingers. 

I bring my head up, eyes to eye with an angel in disguise, “He did some bad things, baby. He hurt my mom really bad” he states gritting through his teeth. 
“I will do anything for my familly and you. And I have to do this, especially if it’s something to ensure your satety.” 

“How many fights do you have left?” I inquire, barely a whisper in his ear. 

“Its not important. You know what, I’ll make fucking sure he doesn’t breathe your way either.” 

“Can I come?” I ask, pulling away from his hold with a wide smile on my face. Oh the things I’d do to watch Bryce get beaten up. 

“No,” he says immediately. “No, absolutely not,” he shrugs. 

“Come on,” I roll my eyes. I drive my lips to the base of his neck, kissing my way softly up to his jaw. “I promise I’ll be good. I just wanna watch Walker have his ass handed to him” I chuckl. “And think of all the ways I can wish you luck.” I tease. 

“That’s not gonna work princess,” he chuckles, kissing my temple gently. “Let’s go back to the car,” he sighs, re-intertwining my fingers with his. 

I exhale our frustration, knowing well enogh Jughead wouldn’t change his mind for shit. 

We stroll out of the place easily. Jughead locking the gate behind us before we make our way to his car. 

I slide into my seatt, folding my arms and rubbing my thigs together. Thoughts about have been swarming my mind the moment we left the house and I can’t seem to get rid ot them now. 

The way his strong tanned arms hold onto the wheel, as tight as his hands wrap around my thigs. The way he licks his lips when he’s focused, oh fuck, the things he could do with those lips. 

I feel the heat between my legs begin to increase as my stomach knots in frustration. I need his so bad. I’m afraid I’ll moan if he does as much as look at me. 

I keep my silence, breathing out gently and keeping my thigs tightly pressed together. Jughead doesn’t seem to notice my squirming beside him, although I’m about to explode in a few seconds. 

Minutes pass by my mind and eyes haven’t left his flawlessly sculpted body since. We get closer to his house but he slows the car down, making me groan out in vexation. 

“What is it baby girl?” Jughead speaks, turning his head to look at me with a smirk plastered clearly on his face. 

“Hm?” I attempt to look in wonder, my hands crossed over the obvious wet patch now sinking from my panties into my shorts. 

Suddenly, the car comes to a stop. Jughead’s hands harshly move from the gear before he turns his position coming forward and leaning both his arms on either side of my seat, hovering over me. 

“Tell me,” he whispers demandigly, his eyes moving from mine to my lips. Jughead licks his lips, making my heart thump resoundingly against my chest almost loud enogh for him to hear. 

I look up into his dominant eyes staring deep into mine. He doens’t move his gaze, demanding an answer. 

Sighing. “I need you,” I mumble inaudubly, looking down to my lap. 

“Come again, baby?” he teases with a tilt of his head and smirk evident on his lips. 

“I need you, please,” I whimper, locking my eyes with his. 

Holding himself to my side with one hand, he uses the other to wrap around the side of my waist, rubbng the skin softly as he gradually moves his hand lower. 

“Tell me what you want,” he traces his fingers in a ticklish motion towards my lower waist, wrapping his hand around the material of my shorts. 

Anything, just please,” I breath out, throwing my head up at the lack of contact

His hands abruptly moves to the center of my shorts. Jughead starts to move my underwear to the side, very slowly at first showing off my wetness clear and dripping for him, watching slosely to see my reaction. 

I groan at the cold air hitting my area, wanting any sort of friction against my sensitive throbbing area. 

“Look at you,” he chuckles, sliding his middle finger up and down my slit, spreading my wetness painfully slow. “Such a mess for me,” his voice deepens, lust filling his intentions as he slides a finger into my etrance, making me shift in pleasure in my seat. 

His eyes don’t leave mie, demanding me to keep my stare on his. His thumb joins his workings, pressing and rubbing onto my vulnerable spot. “Does this feel good, baby?” he purrs, panting heatedly into my lips. 

I feel his hard on growin into the tightness of his jeans , making me bite my lips surprising a moann too emit from my mouth. I may or may not faint. 

“Mhmm,” I pant, starting to feel my climax build up. My stomach starts to form a knot of frustration, driving me on edge. 

Adding another finger, he fastens his pace, eyes still not leaving mine. His lips sloppily fall onto mine, the wetness and heat of his mouth parting my lips unknowingly. 

Uhh, I’m so close,” I whimper , feeling myself come to an edge. My high almost rides onto me when I feel his fingers pull out. He leans back into his seat and begins to drive, leaving me a complete and utter mess. 

Hot and bothered. I pant out loudly, bitting my lip in frustration. I rub my thigs harshly together once again. “Fuck you Jug,” I moan, shuffling in my seat. 

“Patience is a virtue, princess,” he smirks, fastening his driving speed. 

I move my shorts and underwear onto my highly sensitive area, wanting to feel any sort of release or friction against it. 

Minutes pass by feeling like hours when he finally puls the car back to his house. I angirly push open the door, coliding it back again with it’s frame strongly before I march to the front door. 

I open the door with ease, taking off my shoes and throwing them beside the kitchen place. Fuck. I’m gonna kill him. 

I hear the car noise indicating he’s locket it, soon following by his footsteps entering the house and closing the door behind him. He throws the keys onto the counter, eyeing my bothered and panting self with a snigger plastered onto his face. “Something bothering you, baby?” he fake pouts. 

“You know what, fine!” I put my hands up, shrugging “I’ll do it myself!” I huff, turning arund to march ip the stairs. 

I walk into Jughead’s room, purposely leaving the door wide open. I slide my shorts down my legs, pushing them aside with my feet before I place myself onto his bed. 

The previously messy sheets give me a feel of Jughead’s presence, driving me crazier that I have been minutes ago. He’s gonna pay for this. 

I lean myself over again the headboard, shutting my eyes closed and throwing my head back. I feel my back arch when I let my hand reach contact with my white lace covered wetness. 

This is the only time I’ll thank Jughead’s dad for leaving him here alone. 

I rub myself, humming in satisfaction. I move my legs upwards, pulling off my panties and shoving them onto the floor. I keep my eyes closed, my hands in-between my thigs over my bundle of nerves. 

I hear Jughead’s footsteps come closer by the second, getting me excited. I moan loudly, wanting to grab his attention. And no doubt, seconds later, his body appears at the front of the door, his eyes plastered onto my pleasuring hand. 

He bites his lips, coming closer to the edge of the bed. Jughead leans forward, placing his face right in front of my knees, his eyes filling up with lust and passion. 

I spread my knees apart, openin up my legs and shoving myself to him completely. He groans at my dampness licking his lips. 

The cold room air touches my heat, and the shine of the moonlight made it glisten somewhat. I know he couldn’t resist the sight of me at such an angle. 

He brings his face closer to my opening. I feel his hot breath panting in lust as I moan in complecency. 

I trace a finger up and down my slit in front of him, smiling to myself when I see his eyes widen in their desire for me. I play around the patch of wetness moaning when I press into it. “Jughead,” I moan, knowing well enogh how to tease him. 

Jughead’s stare fixates right onto my area as my fingers playfully spread the folds apart. “I want you so bad, baby girl,” he groans, palming himself though the tightness of his clothing. 

I take his pleas, drawibg out a long groan when I play out myself for him. 
“I thought patience’s a virtue, baby?” I smirk 

He watches intensively as I roll the pad of my pointer fingers around my swollen sensitivity, giving me a sensible feeling of pleasure. I can’t lie how much I want him. So badly. 

My teeth tug my bottom lip hard, trying to repress a groan at the sight in front of me. Jughead lustfully and beautifully begging. What a beautiful sight. 

My body feels like it’s on fire and I could feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I close my legs tightly in exasperation, wanting nothing more that feel relase, to feel him. 

I feel the heat of his panting at the top of my thighs, making me throw my head back at the close proximity of our bodies, with no satisactory contact leading to pleasure for either of us from one another. 

“Open up for me, princess,” he demands, eyes darkly looking into mine, gently caressing his free hand over the sides of my thigh. 

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Punish me?” I reply back sarcastically arching my back in order to tease him. 

“Oh no, baby,” he smirks, pushing himself up on the bed, hovering over my entire body as our faces come lining each other. His hands keep him up, makin his veins pop out artistically from his biceps down to his arms. 

“I don’t punish. In fact, I’d like to make it up to you, princess” he tilts his head, licking his lips painfully slow for me to watch. 

“And how are you gonna do that?” I murmur, letting my lips brush onto his. 

Let my hands move to his neck, holding it lightly as I let my fingers play with the ends of his hair. 

“I plan on apologizing. First with my fingers,” his raspy voice speaks promisingly,” he places a featherlike kiss onto my top lip. 

“And finally,” he grinds his hardness onto my spread legs, making me whimper. 

His lips move to my neck, kissing so distressingly slow down across my jaw, licking and nibbling at the skin. 

I pant heavily while he hums against the base of my throat. “I’m gonna make you come so many times, you’ll be begging me to stop,” he smirks. 

Jughead cocks his head up. His hand moves to my jaw, holding it lightly. I feel his thumb come in contact with my lower lip, brushing his thumb over the soft skin roughly from one side to the other. 

“— and you’re gonna love every second of it, right princess?” 


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anonymous asked:

Steve sees one of the Avengers falling and managed to catch them. You mind a reaction to each one or a likely few who find their position unexpected ( Tony annoyed by the bridal position and threatening Steve to put him down please!)?

“I swear to God, Rogers, if you don’t put me down I’m hiding your dentures!”

Steve couldn’t help the canary eating grin on his face as Tony’s muffled yelling became more insistent. “What was that, shell head?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “I didn’t hear ya.” 

“Dammit, Rogers!” 

The expressionless face of the Iron Man suit stared up at him, entirely contradicting the pissed off man inside it. Tony had found out the hard way that naturally occurring lightning was nothing like Thor’s and was more likely to short-circuit the suit than give it a 400% power boost. He’d dropped like a lead weight and, much to his annoyance, right into Steve’s arms. The genius had been yelling ever since, the compromising position of the ‘bridal carry’ far too embarrassing to put up with. Of course, Steve couldn’t pass up the opportunity for revenge. 

“Put me down!” 

“What’s the magic word, Tony?” he pressed, not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Now!” 

Steve pulled a face and shook his head. “No, that’s not it.” 

“ROGERS!” 


Steve will always equate the F.R.I.E.N.D.S. episode ‘The One with the Blackout’ to Natasha. It had started with a friendly game of paint ball and a weak tree limb. Steve had heard the branch snap just in time to avoid it, looking up to see what had caused it to break only for something to land on his back. Natasha, ever so graceful, clung to Steve’s back like a scared cat. The angle of the fall had caused one of her legs to hitch up on his shoulder while her other wrapped around his waist, cinched tight enough to keep her from the ground. Her arms, having been all but useless during her trip down, now gripped at his t-shirt to keep herself upright. In Steve’s defense most people would be startled by something like this and spent nearly a full minute trying to dislodge whatever it was before he heard her voice. 

“Jesus Christ, Rogers, stop!” Natasha snapped, struggling to regain the grip she had lost during his flailing. “It’s me!” 

Steve institutionally reached behind him to boost her up like one would with a piggyback ride, but only managed to get a rather firm grip on her ass. “Oh God, Tasha, I am so sorry,” he panicked, grabbing hold of her legs instead to keep her steady. 

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, slowly lowering her leg from around his waist to the ground. “How ‘bout this,” she started, swinging her other leg free, “I won’t talk about you grabbing my ass if you don’t talk about me falling out of a tree. I don’t need to give Barton any more ammunition.” 

“Sounds fantastic,” he sighed in relief. “Wanna double up and get Tony?” 

“Does Ross have a problematic understanding of what a healthy relationship is?” 

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“Yes.” 


Thor, Crown Prince of Asgard and God of Thunder, was terrified of swans. This fear had been forged during the one and only time Tony had tried teaching him golf, the god finding the white birds that flocked the course amusing and wanting to pet one. It ended with 12 stitches and a vow to never cross paths with the animals again. 

He had kept to his vow till a particular mission found them in Central Park. It had been a short fight, no longer than an hour, and the god was feeling a little bit disappointed. In an attempt to make himself feel better he begun retelling the stories of his youth, emphasizing on the parts that were especially daring and brave. 

Now, the Avengers loved Thor, it went against their nature not to, but there were only so many stories they could hear before wanting to strangle the man. Which was why none of them warned him of the swan waddling up behind him. 

He had been half way through the tale of how he and The Warriors Three defeated a Mountain Giant when he heard the dreaded sound. 

“Honk!” 

All 300 pounds of Thor threw itself at the closest thing, which happened to be Steve. 

Being one of the few who could actually lift the man, Steve was more amused than annoyed at having the god wrapped around him. “Thor, calm down, it’s just a-” 

“That vile creature has tasted my blood and wishes for more!” he snapped, adjusting his grip on the Super Soldier so his legs were wrapped tighter around his waist. “Someone vanquish it!” 

No one had the heart to tell him that it wasn’t the same swan. 

“Maybe it just wants to be friends?” Sam offered with a snicker, trying his hardest not to completely break down. 

“Nay, Son of Wil,” Thor denied, his eyes never leaving the swan. “It is vengeful and blood thirsty animal that will tear me limb from limb till I-” 

A butterfly had caused his sudden stop, the insect fluttering by just a few inches away from the swan. An almost childish glean had entered the bird’s eyes and with another honk waddled after the butterfly, its tail feathers ruffling as it went. 

“Yeeeeeeeah,” Clint dragged out. “Totally blood thirsty.” 

Thor’s cheeks flushed with his embarrassment and he detangled himself from Steve. “My apologies, friend Steve,” he muttered. “I lost myself for a moment.” 

“Happens to the best of us.” 

MC can’t feel physical pain

Yoosung

  • MC accidentally cuts herself in the kitchen while chopping vegetables and doesn’t notices until Yoosung freaks out
  • She sheepishly admits she can’t feel pain
  • Suddenly all the bangs and bruises make sense - especially why she barely reacts to them
  • Suddenly she is not allowed in the kitchen anymore
  • If MC doesn’t react to temperatures, then she could burn herself way too easily, and she could cut herself
  • Yoosung is now the self-appointed cook of the household
  • MC would be annoyed if her parents hadn’t been the same way
  • Worriers
  • So they delegate chores to make things even
  • MC does most of the cleaning while Yoosung handles the kitchen

Jaehee

  • Some one threw scalding coffee all over MC’s front because they were one of those awful customers that takes things out of customer service people
  • MC didn’t even react past flinching and promptly threatened to call the police as that could be considered assault and the only reason she would stop would be if they settled the bill appropriately (which they were trying to get out of)
  • The customer settled the bill (tipped as well), then ran out
  • MC then ducked into the back to change clothes
  • Jaehee didn’t realize that it had been scalding coffee until she felt MC’s still damp shirt was really hot
  • Rather than letting MC change, she made a bunch of ice water and made MC sit in the changing room, applying and reapplying cold water with a wet cloth to her burned skin
  • As soon as Jaehee could, she took MC to the hospital while MC explained her condition
  • At the hospital, they took care of the burns as best they could, but advised that they be careful and MC should only take cold showers for a while
  • MC says, “that’s fine” as she doesn’t care about temperature anyways

Zen

  • They’re on set one day, he’s busy in the middle of his part when suddenly a piece of the set falls off and lands on MC
  • Zen runs over to check on her, but she’s acting like she’s fine
  • Then they look down and she realizes her arms is broken
  • Zen PANICS
  • An ambulance is called, but she’s so calm, like she doesn’t even feel it, and Zen is so worried
  • He thinks she’s in shock
  • When the ambulance arrives, she tells the paramedic that she has congenital insensitivity to pain
  • Zen has no idea what this is, but the paramedic assures him that she’s fine, she just needs to get surgery on her arm to reset the bone, get a cast, and everything should be fine
  • As they’re prepping her for surgery, she explains that she basically can’t feel pain
  • Like, she feels emotions, she feels textures, but she can’t feel pain or temperatures (which is why she doesn’t sweat)
  • Suddenly, he treats her like she’s made of glass
  • Zen doesn’t want her running around when they’re at work, and he wants to carry her everywhere, but MC won’t have it
  • In the end, MC makes a deal with him where, if she decides to do anything where she might come to harm, she will let him know immediately

Jumin

  • There are multiple types of BDSM play
  • MC prefers the stuff that taunts, teases, pushes the edges, anything with interesting textures, etc
  • She doesn’t like anything that involves impact play or pain, though she never specifies why
  • One day, Jumin talks her into it, and they do it… but she doesn’t even really react
  • When the toy he uses hits a little too hard and breaks the skin by accident, she doesn’t even notice
  • It’s then that Jumin knows something’s not right
  • When he asks, MC explains the whole “doesn’t feel pain” thing
  • Jumin doesn’t like that she never said anything before hand
  • MC just says it never comes up unless she gets hurt or its really hot/cold outside
  • Well, needless to say he does a fair amount of research (or Jaehee does for him) and he finds out as much about her condition as he can
  • He makes everything in his apartment as safe as he can
  • Jumin also makes sure her security guards know so that she will either never come to harm, or if she does, she is immediately informed and treated

Saeyoung

  • Because he dug deep and double checked everything about her background, he found her medical records and found out she can’t feel pain
  • So, when Saeyoung and MC meet and interact in route, he makes sure she doesn’t get hurt
  • When everything’s over, he makes his home as safe for her as he can, and always carefully monitors the temperature of the house to make sure she never gets too hot or too cold, because she wont notice and he knows it
  • MC ends up carrying a first-aid kit in her purse on his insistence
  • Saeyoung just tries to keep her from harm as much as possible to the point where she will tell him he’s being overly cautious
  • To prove this, she drags him to an amusement park so that she can show him nothing will go wrong
  • He eases up after a day of fun (Saeran even tagged along and got ice cream… and watched them scream like idiots on the rollercoaster)

V

  • It’s easiest for MC to hide it from V because he can’t see
  • He doesn’t notice how clumsy she is, that she bruises her legs and doesn’t notice, cuts her hand and doesn’t complain, etc
  • It’s not until Zen asks about why MC gets hurt so much that V gets concerned
  • Like, V sits her down to ask her about it
  • She just easily explains the disorder and that she’s fine
  • V’s super concerned, but what can he do?
  • Eventually, V gets so worried, he decides to go through the surgery to get his eye sight back, just so he can keep an eye out for her

Saeran

  • He’s basically like, “Okay, so?”
  • Well, he is at first
  • Then MC accidentally gets cut by a passing movers box cutter and doesn’t even notice or react
  • It takes her ten minutes on her own to notice that something’s wrong
  • Then he becomes a bit of an overprotective mother hen

Vanderwood

  • IMMEDIATE MOTHER HEN
  • WHAT THE HELL?!?!
  • WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING SOONER?!?!
  • Okay, back up a little, all that happened was that he accidentally opened a door in her face, she said she didn’t even feel it, and then the next morning, she had a black eye that was pretty much swollen shut
  • Thus, his reaction of “What the hell”
  • She brushes it off like it’s no big deal
  • From then on, he watches her a lot more closely is prepared in case she gets hurt

based on this frickin hilarious video go watch it now (also on a03)

Derek gets a call from an unknown number at 10:27am. It happens sometimes, telemarketers, and quite often for the nannying agency that’s one digit off his mobile. Today is a new one.

“Hello, this is Derek.”

“Oh, hi. Okay. Hi, I’m Stiles,” comes a surprised voice from the other end.

“Hi Stiles.”

“So, Derek, this is going to sound strange, but I’m just about to go in for a job interview in three minutes, and I had to fill out this list of references and I was short a number so I wrote down a random one, then thought I should call it to see if it was real. And it is, it’s yours.”

“So you just wrote down a random number as a reference?” Derek asks, confused and also a little amused.

“Yes, that’s right. And look, I’m going in soon, and getting this job would be really great, and so would you mind if I keep your number on the list? They probably won’t call but I–”

“Go for it,” Derek interrupts. What’s the harm in it? He can cross off that he’s done his one nice thing for the day, and this Stiles is right, he probably won’t even get a call.

“Seriously? Ah, okay that’s amazing. Thank you.”

“What’s the job?” Derek asks, grabbing a pen and paper to write it down. He’s warming up to the idea of doing this fake reference thing. It’ll be a laugh if nothing else.

“So it’s an IT position with Saris and Fehr Legal. System maintenance, software security, a bunch of stuff really, but don’t worry about it too much, I just had you down as a personal reference?”

Stiles asks it like a question, showing some nerves, and Derek realises he’s essentially admitting he doesn’t know enough people who’d give him a positive reference.

“Oh well that’s easy enough then, I’ll just say that I’ve known you for years, talk about how you’re organized, trustworthy, etcetera,” Derek’s been a reference for some of his friends before, he knows the drill.

“Ah, yeah, sounds great. Wow. You sure about this?”

“It’s fine, Stiles. It’ll make my day more interesting at any rate.”

“Wow,” Stiles repeats, clearly surprised by Derek’s immediate cooperation. “So it’s Stiles Stilinski, not sure I gave you my last name.”

“No, you didn’t,” he says, writing down Stiles’ surname phonetically. “Mine’s Hale. Derek Hale.”

“Hale,” Stiles repeats, while Derek can hear the sound of a pen moving across paper through the phone. “Alright, I’ve got to go now but thanks so much, Derek. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek says, smiling at how relieved Stiles sounds. “Good luck for the interview.”

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