Random prompt: by the time Mulder reaches Scully in Small Potato's it's too late and she's already making out with Eddie
This was much harder to write than I anticipated. Wow. Set, obviously, in Small Potatoes. Tagging @fictober and @today-in-fic.
Mulder is sure that he’s either just stepped into a dream or
a nightmare: there on her couch is Scully and she is making out with… him. At
least that’s what she must be thinking. It takes him two seconds (though it
feels like two millions), to slam the door behind him, run over and drag that
pervert off of Scully.
“What the…” Scully’s voice sounds like rich, dark
wine. Her lips, oh, he shouldn’t have looked there; swollen, glistening wet and
so very red. When Eddie stumbles and falls to the ground, his appearance
changes into his own and there he is, staring at Scully, who gasps before she
gets sick all over her coffee table. Eddie starts crawling towards the door and
Mulder catches him before he gets there. He hoists him up and his anger
threatens to overwhelm him.
“Mulder, don’t.” He turns to Scully, still on her
couch, her face red, her eyes bloodshot. Mulder swallows the need to strangle
Eddie van Blundth right here, right now.
“I’m sorry.” The man mumbles and sounds like a
child. Mulder, however, feels no sympathy. He wants to punch him, hurt him,
kill him. The rage runs through him like a current; the only thing stopping him
is Scully’s presence.
“Call the police, Scully.” He hears rather than
sees her grab the phone and make the call. Then she is by his side. For a
moment she just stands there and Mulder wishes he knew what she’s thinking. Her
hand, balled into a fist, comes up and Eddie closes his eyes, expecting the
punch. But it doesn’t come. Eddie whimpers, waits and despairs, but Scully
doesn’t hit him.
“I feel sorry for you.” She says, throws Mulder a
look and then disappears into the bathroom. The door closes with a soft click. Mulder
stares at Eddie who seems more baffled than sorry. Mulder’s anger is still
there, apparent in his tight grip, but it no longer consumes him. He wants to
be with Scully now, comfort her, talk to her. This man, this pervert, doesn’t
deserve his time. Mulder knows that Scully will have to give a statement.
She’ll have to come out of the bathroom at some point, face this again. When
Eddie lifts his head, it hits Mulder; Scully was kissing him. Right before
their lips met, Scully looked at his face, at Mulder’s face, and decided that
she wanted this.
“I did you a favor you know.” Eddie says and that’s
when Mulder loses it. He punches Eddie in the face, self-defense, he’ll call it
and Eddie won’t refute it.
Hours later, after they’ve given their statements, Mulder and
Scully reunite in the police lobby. Scully eyes him warily, Mulder tries to
“Let’s go home, huh?” Scully nods and follows him.
They don’t speak. Not one word is uttered in the car. Fifteen minutes of
silence that’s not even interrupted by the radio. He parks his car in front of
Scully’s building, leaves the seatbelt on and makes no move to get out of the
car himself. Neither does Scully. She glances up at her window where the lights
shine through. No one thought about turning them off.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”
“None of this is your fault, Mulder.” It feels like
his fault, though. Eddie van Blundth imitated him, took over his life. He feels
responsible. “I should have known it wasn’t you. I guess I…” But she
trails off. How well do you ever know a person, really? Four years together and
Scully could still be persuaded by an imposter. The thought makes him sick. He
knows he won’t sleep tonight. Closing his eyes, he’ll still see it. His body,
his arms, legs and face, so close to Scully’s. Their lips moving against each
other’s hungrily. Scully holding on to his – Eddie’s – arm as she kissed him,
tasted him, and let him do the same to her.
“I’m not sure I want to go home.” Scully tells him.
“Where do you want to go instead? Your mom’s?” She
shakes her head, but doesn’t say anything else. “Do you want me to take
you to a hotel?” Another shake of her head.
“My apartment?” He’s taking a chance with this and
he knows it. After all they’ve been through today, he figures, it doesn’t
matter anymore. She’s made out with him – or someone she thought was him – so the
least he can do is offer her a place to stay.
“No, I… I guess I have to face this. Go home and… just
forget about it.” Just this once Mulder doesn’t want to forget about it.
They’re good at shoving their feelings aside; they hide them behind smiles, in
cupboards, closets and under rugs. This time he wants to put them on the table.
“I’m not sure I can forget it. I’m not sure I want
“Mulder, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“What did he say?”
“What did he say that made you want to kiss him –
“We just talked and then…”
“Then you weren’t talking anymore.” Mulder mumbles.
“We never talk like that, Mulder. That should have been
my first clue. You never come over with a bottle of wine wanting to talk.”
“Do you want me to come over with a bottle of wine? We
talk all day, Scully.” Except right now. Silence climbs into the car, sits
between them, and waits.
“I should go. Thank you for taking me home,
Mulder.” She removes her seatbelt and is out of the car in a heartbeat.
Mulder is slower, his brain and muscles not cooperating, before he follows her.
In a few long strides, he is by her side. Scully, though, doesn’t stop walking,
barely acknowledges him so he follows her upstairs. She leaves the door open
for him and he steps inside. The air is thick with the smell of red wine and
the sweet-sour stench of puke.
“I drank too much. I shouldn’t have… I should have…”
Scully kicks at the empty wine bottle. He gets her frustration. If either of
them were of sound mind now, they’d know that the blame lay solely with Eddie
van Blundth. Instead they’re standing here in the disaster the man left behind
while guilt gnaws at them.
“You wanted this, right?” Scully turns to him, her
eyes flickering angrily at him.
“You think I wanted this?”
“No! Scully, no. I mean you said you thought it was
me,” he waits for her to understand him and when she nods, he knows she
does, “so you wanted me, the real me, to… kiss you. Or was that just a
spur of the moment thing because he was so charming?” A dream or a
nightmare, Mulder thinks again, much like he did earlier this evening.
“I wanted to kiss you. You, Mulder. Yes, I may have been
influenced by the wine and the way you – he – listened and cared. But it was
you, Mulder. It was you I wanted to kiss.” He walks towards her now,
slowly, deliberately, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of him. He puts his
hands on her face and lowers his head. Before their lips touch, he pauses to
give her an out. Instead she is the one who puts her lips on his, dares to make
the first step, and kiss him.
“Mulder, I can’t.” The one to start it, the one to
end it, too. There are tears in her voice and then in her eyes; they fall
between them, land on his lips and he tastes the salty desperation. “I
want to. I really want to kiss you, Mulder. The real you. I just… can’t shake
off what happened tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t mean to-” A finger on
his lips stops him.
“Don’t be sorry, Mulder. Please. I want this and I’m
pretty certain you want this, too,” they smile at each other, “I’m
not saying no. I’m just saying not tonight.” Mulder sighs, nods. He hates
Eddie van Blundth, hates him with every fiber of his being.
“Not tonight.” He confirms.
“Just to tide you – and me – over…” Scully says and
trails off, leans forward and kisses him again; a promise of things to come.
okay so modern!au cielois is fave and also social media is fave so ive combined the two so here we go.
- Alois has a tumblr (i mean ofc he does) and he has more sideblogs than friends at this point, one for memes, one for aesthetics and the other 10 million just of saved urls that hes not going to use but wont let anyone else have
- ciel having a tumblr but rarely using it.
- alois having a special “ciel” tag in which he tags everything he thinks ciel would like so he can show the posts to him when they’re lay in bed on their phones
- ciel being the queen of snapchat filters thoughhhhh
- you thought alois was gonna be the snapchat whore? think again. ciel made a snapchat just to look at the filters everyday
- “goddam thing wont recognise my face- THE EARS ARE ON MY NOSE” - “ TAKE YOUR EYEPATCH OFF”
- none of them really use twitter, ciel uses it to keep himself updated on news and stuff and alois uses it to tweet indirects about teachers.
- same with facebook
- they use it for group chats and keeping up with whose got beef with who.
- alois having a youtube channel (which has like 200 subscribers or something, not that many) just where he posts all the videos of ciel doing very domestic or cute things
- instagram is an eh for them, ciel doesn’t have one. well he does but its private, alois has one thats all him and ciel, lizzy and Doll just mucking about.
ill probs have more of these in the morning because its 11pm and im dying from sleepiness so im going just watch tv, ill make a part 2 if anyones interested
Title: Busted Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader Synopsis: Tom comes home early and catches you and Harrison getting it oooon. Word Count: 714 Warning: Pretty smutty ngl lads A/N: Written for anonymous - “could you do a Harrison Imagine with prompts 78 & 91″. Tagging: @1022bridgetp, guys, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future imagines so you know when I post them!
Hey! Can I request please some headcanons for being Deadpool's best friend?
Hey,I’m so happy your doing Deadpool and Loki imagines and I was wondering if I could be added to their tags and if possible, could I get a hc as to what it would be like to be best friends with Deadpool ? :D I hope you’re having a great day today ☺❤ - @miyakokurono
TW for brief NSFW.
- Sometimes you wake up to pancakes for breakfast.
- On those days, Deadpool needs you the most because he’s not having a good day.
- You accept the fact that he’s in your house because really, it’s Deadpool.
- If he was gonna kill you, there are a million ways he could have done it, and he didn’t, though you suppose it’s because no one’s paid him to.
- You trust him implicitly.
- On the days he needs you the most, you tend to just cuddle all day.
- You have weapons stashed all over your house in case his own stock gets compromised or he can’t reach it.
- Your image of unicorns has forever been tainted by the one time you walked in on him jacking himself off holding a unicorn.
- Getting used to hearing a series of crashes, yelled swear words, groans of pain and then the sound of your shower switching on.
- He always comes to you when he’s hurt.
- You get used to the sight of his blood and you actually develop some medical knowledge from all the times you’ve had to stitch him up because he refuses to go to hospital.
- Sometimes he looks over your shoulder and says something completely out of context, like “Oops, spoilers!”
- Or, “what are you still doing here? Go, go.” And a hand motion like he’s shooing someone away.
- Or, “This happened waaaaay back in issue one.” | “Who are you talking to?” | “Them.” | “Whose them?” |“Forget it. It’s too hard to explain in one panel.”
- Whenever you ask he just shakes his head and mutters something about a fourth wall.
- You’ve seen him naked more times than you care to remember.
- Being the only one who has seen his unmasked face.
- When you saw it you shrugged and said, “I’ve seen worse.”
- That moment pretty much set your eternal friendship in stone.
- Having to tell him not to eat chimichangas all the time because it’s unhealthy.
- He sighs and suggests pizza, instead.
- Or chimichanga pizza…
- As if you’d fall for that.
- Getting kidnapped a lot of the time.
- It gets so frequent that you barely jump when someone grabs you from behind and drags you into a car.
- When he finds you, and he always does, the threats he gives the perpetrators leaves you a little shaken.
- His entire demeanour changes, his voice goes low and he says things like, “I’m letting you keep your life so you can tell your friends that I’m not to be fucked with.”
- You’re just so done with all of Deadpool’s shit but you love him.
- He can make you cry of laughter when all you feel like doing is curling up and sleeping forever.
- Deadpool understands you better than most and is really good when you’re sad or anxious.
- Sometimes he mutters about the voices being too loud and will have conversations out loud with two different voices.
- He compares himself to someone called Ryan Reynolds a lot of the time, though you don’t know who he is…
- Deadpool describes him as a ‘total jackass who gets away with acting with just his looks’.
- He often tells the room around him that he doesn’t have time to make another issue and wants a vacation.
- One time, Deadpool was gone for a few days.
- This doesn’t worry you but what does worry you is when he comes back holding his own head…
- “You regrew your head?”
- “Uhh… Yeah?”
- Your reaction was one you didn’t want to repeat.
- He has an anal fixation and often asks during times of battle whether his next colonoscopy can happen like this.
- Deadpool has quite literally died for you and he’d do it again and again, without question.
- Whenever he does something that should make you worry, you just justify it with a shrug and a, “It’s Deadpool.”
- He often encourages the both of you when you’re fighting side by side:
- “Good Y/N!” When you do something he approves of and “Bad Y/N!” When you do something kinda stupid, but then you take out another enemy and he shrugs with a, “Good Y/N!”
- No real privacy between the two of you.
- He’s quite happy to come into the bathroom when you’re showering because he’s really gotta poop.
- Being each other’s wingman for dates and stuff.
- You’re his partner in crime and you often go with him on adventures.
- He’d teach you how to fight and defend yourself.
- Drinking games that devolve into both of you just drinking from the bottle.
- You’ve got a rather unconventional friendship, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
The first set of bolded quotes are from Deadpool: Dead Presidents. The second bolded quote is from the comic Deadpool versus S.H.I.E.L.D.
No tags because the two people on the Deadpool taglist are already tagged! Also, the insult about Ryan Reynolds was said by Deadpool during an in-character interview!
(n.) the sentimental feeling you have about someone you once loved but no longer do
“Jiyoo! Jiyoo! Jiyoo!”
lights of the arena dimmed as the crowd went wild. Screams from thousands of
fans filled the hollowed hall and Yoongi couldn’t keep the small smile tugging
at the corners of his mouth as pride flared in his chest.
Jiyoo, Korea’s top Hip Hop slash R&B artist, graced the stage for his
opening number—official opening his first solo tour.
crossed his arms as he watched from the third floor of the dome, nodding his
head to the beats he produced himself. Jiyoo oozed with charisma as he worked
the stage, making the dome come alive with his voice.
smiled, remembering how it felt to have the crowds at the edge of their
seats—their collective voices singing every word to their songs that it felt
like the world was at the palm of his hands.
been years since he debuted as a rapper in the popular idol group, BTS. They were
considered legends in the K pop scene; known to have broken countless records
from the time of their reign.
fame never did last forever.
knew that. But he was glad they remained in their youth and continued to do
what they’re passionate about even after their idol group years. He was also thankful at how
their beloved ARMY’s grew with them…stayed with them even through their solo
and Jin dived into modelling and acting, and were now considered some of the
best in the industry; being offered lead roles in dramas and movies from
various producers. Hoseok and Jimin became kings of variety shows, bringing joy
and laughter to the television scene. Hoseok also became a well-known
choreographer and was in demand by several entertainment companies while Jimin
went on to becoming Korea’s sweetheart by being the top idol most loved by
brands. Yoongi saw his face on everything now and it was unnerving, as he would
always joke with him.
and Jungkook continued to do music and became icons in the entertainment
industry with their versatility and charisma. Namjoon went abroad and released
an America album which shot to the charts and got nominated for a Grammy.
Jungkook became the most well-known face in the industry and was loved by many.
Yoongi couldn’t help but feel proud, considering their maknae managed to
achieve his dream of becoming not only a great singer who would be remembered, but a great artist overall. He was the current face for Korea’s tourism board and the boys always
teased him about it whenever they went on trips and would see Kookie’s face on huge
billboards at the airport.
then there’s Yoongi who went on to become what he knew from the very
beginning he was meant to be: a producer and owner of his own label. He didn’t
only want to continue making music but he also wanted to make young people’s
dreams become a reality the way Bang Si-hyuk did to him many years ago.
Jiyoo was Yoongi’s second artist and his most successful yet.
averted his eyes from the stage to survey the crowds and was amazed by their
reaction. Light sticks lit the sold-out arena like stars and he could see the
elated expressions on each and every one of their faces.
if he wasn’t the one performing on stage, Yoongi still felt the same rush as
his latest-produced song played through the large speakers, accompanied by
scanned the crowd and found legions of fangirls with their banners, light
sticks, and other merchandise with Jiyoo’s name or face plastered on them.
was shaking his head, amused by a banner that was asking Jiyoo to marry her
when something caught his eye, causing his smile to falter.
If you didn’t know about this then you’ve stumbled across me for the first time ever because (as my poor irl friend who followed me on here says) I only really post the 100 and of that it’s all bellarke. SO UH YEAH THESE STUPID DORKS HAVE RUINED MY LIFE, just look at the tears i’ve cried, the posts i’ve made, the dozens upon dozens of hours talking about them with alex and other ppl, the hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction in just the last year (note: i had NEVER written fanfiction before bellarke, what the frick), and just skldjfslkdjflkdsfjlkds THEY’RE GONNA BE CANON THEY LOVE EACH OTHER END ME
2. P E R C A B E T H
Percabeth is my FIRST EVER SHIP YALL, and the longest too at that (they’re also the only ship that equals my love of bellarke AND it proves i have a type kill me). BUT LIKE,,,,,THE BEST SHIP EVER THEY’RE SO IN LOVE THEY’RE THE BEST SLOW BURN THESE NERDS GONNA BE MARRIED AND HAVE BABIES AND BE HAPPY I LOVE
One of my only high-key ships that I didn’t ship at the start, actually (I was a harmony shipper originally) but HOLY FRICK I’M 100000000% ON THE ROMIONE BOAT NOW. THEY’RE SO PRECIOUS AND LITERALLY MARRIED AND HAVE CHILDREN THEY’RE A DREAM
This ship ended me what the frick when I prayed for hand-holding and a hug I diDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT JSFLKDSJFDL. But like,,,,heart eyes???? Self-sacrifice???? Protectiveness??? Smiles???? Wow
I’m actually waaaaaaaaaaaaay behind on scorpion because some of the plot points and how they were treating walter has been really bugging me bUT THIS SHIP IS WONDERFUL Walter is high-key Ralph’s dad and he loves Paige and she loves him and skdfljsdkfjsdlkfj I love
(i don’t actually know how in order this was besides bellarke and percabeth lol so have sooooooooome)
Stydia – ENDGAME WHOOOOOOO
Mileven – h e a r t e y e s
Jancy – bed sharing!!!!!!!
Jily – let them live lkjsdjfls
Finnrey – the softest, the purest
EIGHT MILLION OTHER JDLKSJFDLKSJLKF
I tag uhhhhhhh whoever wants to tbh I feel like this has gotten around <3
i was tagged by total babe @dreamteamsims to do the pros and cons of dating tag, so here we have it people: the pros and cons of dating sebastian beaumont.
PROS 💖endlessly loyal, like never in a million years would the thought of being unfaithful even cross his mind
💖 real good with parents and pets. like yours will probably love him.
💖makes a mean cup of hot cocoa
💖 will draw/paint pictures of and for you for no reason. just likes to and thinks you’re art. 💖 knows a lot of random facts and will tell you them. knowledge is power n stuff u know.
💔 is an escapist and will disappear into his own head/own little world without warning
💔 world’s worst texter. will forget to reply for days at a time even if you were in the middle of a conversation 10 seconds ago.
💔 oblivious!! does not pick up on hints or understand feelings easily. yikes
💔 has a hard time putting emotions into words so avoids having Serious Talks
i am real late on this one, and i think everybody and their mother has done it by now… but if you have not and want to, tag you’re it bby.
The two of you rode the elevator down to the lab for Q to prep you for your case.
“Ah, hello you must be our new 009!” A man younger than what you expected greeted the two of you once the elevator door opened.
“Yes, Y/N Gregson.” You smiled.
“Before we get down to the details of your next mission, I’ll need you both to roll up your left sleeve. Just a tracking device, needs to be implanted. M insisted on it after Miami.” Q said, looking to Bass.
“He still mad about that?” Bass asked.
“Just need to keep an eye on you.” Q smiled.
“What happened in Miami?” You asked as the tracking device was injected into your arm.
“007 stopped a bomb from destroying a Skyfleet prototype that was being unveiled.” Q answered.
“Why would someone want to destroy it?” You asked.
“When they analyzed the stock market after 9/11, the CIA discovered a massive shorting of airline stocks. When the stocks hit bottom on 9/12 someone made a fortune.” Q explained.
“So the same thing was supposed to happen with Skyfleet stock. I’m guessing that someone lost around 100 million dollars betting the wrong way. Do we know who?” You asked.
“Jesus, M wasn’t lying about you being incredibly quick. We think it’s a man known as Le Chiffre. Banker to the world’s terrorists.” Q said.
“Are we certain it’s him?” You asked.
“Well it would explain how he could set up a high-stakes poker game at Casino Royale in Montenegro. Ten players $10 million buy in, $5 million rebuy. Winner takes all.” Q said.
“Potentially $150 million. So we’ll know where he’ll be. But you don’t want him dead do you? This Le Chiffre sounds like he doesn’t have $100 million to lose.” You said.
“Has he been playing the stock market with his clients’ funds?” Bass asked, knowing the answer.
“We can’t let him win this game. If he loses, he’ll have nowhere to run. We’ll give him sanctuary in return for everything he knows. We’re putting you in the game Bass, replacing someone who was playing for a syndicate.” Q explained.
“And am I just a tag along?” You asked.
“You’re to keep him out of trouble, learn the ropes, and work as a team.” Q explained, much to Bass’ displeased look.
The two of you were on a train to Montenegro.
“Where exactly is the money coming from?” You asked.
“The treasury will wire it into my account at Montenegro.” Bass explained.
“I suppose you’ve realized that if you lose, our government will have directly financed terrorism.” You quipped. He smirked but didn’t reply.
“I’ve never played poker.” You confessed. “I suppose it’s just a matter of probability and odds. You play the man across from you, not the cards in your hand. I think I’d quite like the game.”
“You’re good at reading people?” He asked.
“You already know that. You’ve read the blog haven’t you?” You rolled your eyes.
“Riveting stuff. Though it’s abnormal for a police officer to upgrade to a double-0, you must have connections. Friends in high places.” He said, waiting for you to confirm his suspicions.
“I’ve gotten to where I am because I’m good at what I do. Much like you. It doesn’t matter where you come from.” You said defensively.
“I knew I liked you.” He smirked.
“Really? That’s surprising since you consider women disposable pleasures instead of meaningful pursuits. Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side Mr. Bass, and I hate losing.” You said. “Your charm may work on every other woman in this planet, but it won’t work on me.”
He only smirked and nodded, he loved a challenge. He didn’t know how truly broken you were, and that no one alive could fix you.
Your train arrived in Montenegro and a car was waiting to take the two of you to the hotel. A contact slipped Charles an envelop before he joined you in the cab. You raised your eyebrow as he opened in on the drive.
“It’s just last-minute details.” He said, while reading it. “Apparently we’re very much in love.”
“Do you usually leave it to porters to tell you this sort of thing?” You joked.
“Only when the romance has been necessarily brief. I’m Mr. Arlington Beech, professional gambler, and you’re Ms. Stephanie Broadchester.” He said casually, hiding a smirk.
“I am not.” You argued, while trying to grab the papers out of his hand.
“You’re gonna have to trust me on this. We’ve been involved for quite a while, hence the shared suite.” He smirked.
“But my family is strict Roman Catholic, so for appearances’ sake it’ll be a two-bedroom suite.” You smirked back, two can play this game.
“I do hate it when religion comes between us.” He smiled.
“Religion and a securely locked door. Am I going to have a problem with you, Bass?” You asked.
“No, don’t worry. You’re not my type.” He answered honestly.
“Smart?” You asked.
“Single.” He answered, looking out the window as the car arrived at the hotel.
The two of you exited the car and approached the reception desk to check in.
“Welcome to the Hotel Splendid. Your name, sir?” The receptionist from the five-star hotel asked.
“Charles Bass. You’ll find the reservation under Beech.” He spoke, arrogantly blowing your cover instantly. Had he no respect for protocol or espionage?
You stormed off the to elevator, leaving him to check in.
“Very funny.” You said, “No wonder M thinks you need a babysitter.”
“Look, if Le Chiffre is that well-connected, he knows who I am and where the money’s coming from. Which means he’s decided to play me anyway. So he’s either desperate or he’s overly confident, but either way, that tells me something about him. And all he gets in return is a name he already has.” Bass argued.
“And now he knows something about you. He know’s you’re reckless.” You spoke as the elevator opened and you entered, quickly hitting the close door button before your partner could enter. “Take the next one. There isn’t enough room for me and your ego.”
That afternoon the two of you met with your Treasury contact, Rene Mathis, for lunch. He was an older man with greying hair and a smooth accent. He informed you and Bass that Le Chiffre had arrived yesterday, and spend the time re-establishing old relationships.
“The chief of police and he are now quite close.” Mathis said. “He’s the one with the mustache over my left shoulder.”
You and Bass both focused your eyes on the man with two woman at his lunch table.
“That could make life difficult.” You said.
“And quite possibly shorter. He’s not a very subtle man. I thought about trying to buy his services, but we frankly couldn’t afford to outbid Le Chiffre.” He replied, and suddenly three police cars surrounded the outdoor patio and you raised an eyebrow suspiciously.
“So I decided it was cheaper to supply his deputy with evidence that we were bribing the chief. It’s amazing what you can do with photoshop these days. I think your odds are improving, Mr. Bass.” He said as the police chief was arrested.
Back at the hotel you were in the washroom getting ready in a silk robe when Bass knocked on the door. He entered with a long gown on a hanger and hung it on the back of the door.
“Something you expect me to wear?” You asked.
“I need you looking fabulous. So that when you walk up behind me and kiss me on the neck, the players across from me will be thinking about your neckline and not about their cards. Do you think you can do that for me?” Charles asked.
“I’ll do my best.” You smirked smugly. He exited the room before quickly returning holding up the dinner jacket you had gotten him.
“I have a dinner jacket.” He argued.
“There are dinner jackets, and dinner jackets. This is the latter. And I need you looking like a man who belongs at that table.” You said, returning to applying some mascara.
“How the f–” He stopped himself. “It’s tailored.”
“I sized you up the moment we met. Don’t look so surprised, I told you I’m good at what I do.” You said, and he left the room. Your smile faded and a memory of Sherlock flooded your mind. You missed being constantly outsmarted by him, it was exhausting being the smartest one the in the room with no one to talk to. Alone in the sky with no way to land, and the only man you could save you was dead.
yo ksoo is cute but a lot of y'all be saying a lot of unholy shit in the tags lolllll why?
Ksoo can sneeze and you know his stans will make 10 different gifs out of it and give him enough blessings for a million lifetimes. We love all sides him so much like when he’s cute, sexy, weird, or quiet. Since he doesn’t do SNS, each time we see him it’s special, even if he’s not doing much! I think Ksoo stans are also some of the most observant ones- a vein or mole will set them off LOL
So I have this band au that I'm writing. So Otabek, Leo, JJ and Seung Gil are in a band. Basically Leo plays drums, JJ the bass, Otabek does digital sounds (DJ stuff idk) and Seung Gil sings (he has an amazing singing voice). Yuri, Ji and Minami are Disney Channel actors. Minami is the main characters, and Yuri and Ji play is best friends who are also disney channels first major queer couple ~Kitten
So, because they are dating on the show, Yuri and Ji are obviously
getting shipped. Also, Leoji are childhood friends who are also bffs and
peopel ship them. And then there is Ota.yuri, and fuck that’s some shit,
like of course it’s getting shipped. And how could people not ship the
bandmembers? Oh man… that fandom has some shipping wars…
Phichit as a YouTuber. He has around 5 Million subscribers, and 2
Million on his vlog channel. His most clicked video is “Never Have I
Ever w/ Seung Gil Lee” Because it’s like the only time you hear Seung
Gil talk more then two words. His second most clicked video is the
boyfriend tag with him. He also is on tour with the band, and vlogs it
(even gets paid for that by the management)
So this is the part where it’s boarderline Crack. So Chris is a
pornstar. He is aromantic, and when he got invited to do porn he was
like “Why not?” and suddenly he could make a living out of it. He met
Yuuri when he was shooting. Yuuri is a singer and was filming a music
video in the studio next to chris’. Viktor was a friend of Chris, and
that’s how Viktuuri met
this is such a wild ride from start to finish bUT OH NO YURI/GUANG HONG SOUNDS REALLY CUTE BUT ALSO LEO.JI AND OTA.YURI ON DOUBLE DATES??? HECK???
Summary: Jay thinks getting a job at the local library will be the perfect way to spend his summer and make a little money while he’s at it. The problem is there’s a really cute boy that comes in all the time and Jay has no idea how to act when he’s around. Talking with cute boys definitely isn’t in his repertoire and flirting is completely out of the question!
With a pained groan, Jason let the last donation box drop onto the table to give his aching arms sweet relief. Several people looked up at the sudden thud-some sending him dirty looks-but Jason was well beyond caring. His first day working at Gotham Public Library hadn’t gone at all like he expected it to when he imagined his first day. At the interview, they had described what he would be doing and not once had they mentioned lugging around heavy donation boxes all day. The head librarian took one look at him, saw how muscular he was (Jason’s pretty sure he saw her eyes literally light up), and put him right to work. Now, he was completely exhausted and ready to go home for the day.
Her brow rose. “Excuse me?” She clearly misheard him and his idea for a fun night out.
“Laser tag.” He repeated again, this time with a growing smile on his face. “You know, fake guns, lasers, a dark room with a million corners, cheesy fog effects.” The blonde lifted his hand up while shaping it like a gun. “Pew, pew, faashoooo!” Playfully, he shot at her. “Laser tag!”
His girlfriend of no more than three months gave him a deadpan look. “That doesn’t sound fun.” Gaze cast aside, Angela slipped her hands over her chest to give Jack one of her ‘you’re going to be the death of me’ looks.
Yes, she was an Overwatch agent. Yes, she knew how to handle a gun (it was required for all Overwatch agents to have gun training-both pulling the trigger as well as safety protocol). But no, she had absolutely no aim.
Up until now, she saw no reason to go target shooting. To up her aim and accuracy, why would she want to do that? She was a medic, a doctor after all! Her focus was on life-saving procedures, not killing. Last she checked, a gun couldn’t heal wounds (heh, if only she knew what Ana was working on!).
“Think of this like target practice,” Jack egged on. “It’ll be easier than using a real gun.” His elbow collided lightly against her side. “Eh, eh?”
“Is it not a child’s game?”
Her words were met with stark silence. She opened her month to rescind her comment and rectify the situation but she could see the damage was already done. The look in his eyes said it all. He was hurt. If she could shrink down into a worm, she would have. She would have crawled right away and vanished forever. But that wasn’t possible, so instead she nervously fidgeted with her golden fringe.
Jack opened his mouth only to pause. She could see his mind working within his transparent eyes. They’d had this talk about, about ages and that so-called judge-worthy difference between them. Every time they spoke of it, he got this way. Silent and sad.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Miss Ziegler, are you saying I’m old…”
Angela chewed her lip. She pulled her eyes off him for just a moment. When they returned, she noticed his sly sideways grin. He was mocking her, which didn’t help the situation whatsoever.
“No,” she she huffed. She would definitely pay for this later. Still, she couldn’t believe herself. Did she really just do that? Did she really just accidentally (might I add innocently) call her boyfriend old?
Technically speaking, he was old. Older. Older than her by quite a few years. All of their good friends ignored the age gap difference. Hell, none of them cared. They were just happy that the two were finally a couple instead of giving each other “I want to fucking pound you into the ground and make sweet love to you” looks. Ah yes, the good old days of pent up sexual lust and adolescent hormones.
Granted, there were always those that were against it.
Gabriel Reyes was one of them. His reasoning was two part. One, he liked Angela and wanted the hot, young, blonde doctor to himself. He wasn’t overly fond of the fact that Jack ended up getting the girl, especially knowing that Jack was married to his work. How could he balance the two? And this lead to his second gripe: he thought that a girlfriend, at least for Jack, would be way too distracting. Reyes had big plans for the soldier and didn’t want love to interfere. Not to mention the fact that top brass had their eyes set on the strapping blonde. If Jack continued down the path he was currently on, the board would ultimately promote Jack to Strike-Commander, the public face of Overwatch (a title that would later cause Reyes much angst and frustration).
“You’re doing that thing again,” his voice broke her from her train of thought.
“Wh-what thing?” She tried to play off the wave of guilt and memories as if it were nothing.
“That thing where you lose yourself thought.” Jack was seated at this point and plopped his chin into his palms. “It’s cute,” he cooed lightly.
Her blush spread across her face, adding to her overall cuteness. Twisting her head to the side, she bashfully averted her gaze. This side of him, the side the world never saw, the sweet side that graced her with compliments, this was the side of Jack she loved most. He was a soldier with a soft side. Deep down, beneath the bullets, carnage of war, the ceaseless scars, and blood of the deceased, he was a sweetheart. Her sweetheart.
“Fine,” she caved. Her shoulders rolled forward as her eyes sought out his. “I’ll do it.”
He went for the edges of his shirt and hiked them up. By the time he had lifted his shirt up to his chest, Angela caught wind of what he was doing.
“Not sex,” she chided. “I meant laser tag.”
“Why not both?” His coy grin in tow. “Sex now. Laser tag tonight.”
She smirked. How could she say no? He was hot as hell and, well, they were still in the honeymoon phase of their juvenile relationship. The part where it was all about pure bliss, sweet kisses, and mad, steamy sex.
When evening came, Angela poured herself a cup of coffee. Breathing in its sweet yet bitter taste, she sent her playful azure gaze over to Jack. Hiding behind the cup, she blushed while a wicked grin crawled onto her face.
“So that was fun,” she stated plainly while putting her cup down. “Don’t suppose you want to skip the lasers and go str-”
“WHOA!” Jack’s fist pounded on the table; the echo caused by the gesture vibrated across the metal surface and straight into her hand. The shock it caused Angela to flinch.
“Are you bailing on date night?” His judgmental sapphire stare bore into her. “Are you standing me up…” Cute little wrinkles formed beneath his lids and across the bridge of his nose. He was joshing her and it made him all the more adorable.
“Why I would never stand you up.” Her hand slipped away from the coffee to adjust her bra. An action his eyes were quick to lock onto. “I was just suggesting that we could do something a little more…intense.”
“Uh, excuse me.” His voice was dry, judgmental. Jack’s hand went across the cool surface to steal her mug. Dragging it toward his body, he took a sip. It was sweet, just the way he liked it. He had another gulp. “Laser tag is intense.” Again, his nose crinkled as he set the now-empty mug back down on the cool surface. “Do you even know what it is?”
“Grown-ass men hiding behind short walls attempting to shoot each other with colorful guns that shoot lasers and make ridiculous noises. And to prevent eye damage, you wear goggles. Yes?”
“Grown-assed men?” Jack scoffed. “You do realize there will be sixteen year olds pining for you.”
“Whaaaa?” He tried to play off his comment like it was nothing.
She glared at him. “Jack…” She reached across the table to steal back her coffee. Of course it was empty. She now-annoyed glare flickered up to Jack. “Jack what is this talk about sixteen year olds…”
“Uh…” He bit his lip. He forgot to mention it was Discount Wednesday, the day when all the youngsters would flock to the arena to pawn n00bs. And Jack, being Jack, wanted to kick some serious ass and show those punks that he was still the king of laser pointers and ridiculous sound effects.
“You’re not serious.” Her face void of all emotion.
“I…am…?” His brows furrowed as his sheepish grin appeared. She was going to kill him. “Heh.” He felt the sweat beads forming just above his brow. He really needed to learn to talk less.
“Jack Morrison,” she was now coming to him. She slinked like a lioness hunting her prey. With each step corner, Jack felt the hairs on his neck rise. This was it. He was a goner. She was going to eat him-and not in the sexual fantasy kind of way he was hoping for!
Closing his eyes, he braced for impact; he was done for.
But nothing came.
Slowly, he peeled open his baby blues to spy himself staring down the slope of her fingers. Her hand. Her gun-shaped hand.
“Pew, pew,” she smirked. “Plashooooo! Aaaaand you’re dead.”
“Plashooo? What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He tried to hide his laugh.
“Is that not the noise you made?”
He broke into a fit of laughter. “No, it was not 'plashooo;’ it was faaashoooo.”
“Close enough,” she quipped before a smirk drew up the edges of her lips.
Lips falling apart, they quickly reformed back into a into a smile. She was damn cute.
“Ang,” he tried to contain his amusement. “Are you, are you saying…” His eyes sparkled much like the snow on a sunny day.
“I’m saying let’s go kick some ass and get your name back up on that leaderboard.” She smirked before holstering her fake hand-shaped gun. “We’ll show ’m why no one can match the peerless might of Jack Morrison!”
The ride over to the arena was full of Jack giving Angela tips. Do this, don’t do that, avoid this. Always go for a kill-shot but, if you can’t, aim for a limb. Make them crawl. Make them suffer.
“Wait, I thought this was laser tag?” She blinked at him with a deer in the headlights look. “Since when does shooting someone in a limb help?”
“This isn’t just laser tag. This is extreme laser tag. If you get hit, the gear you wear alters your condition. So if you’re shot in the leg, the leg armor will become stiff and lethargic, making it ten times harder to walk. Making you any easy target.”
“Oh jeez,” Angela’s hands fell around her face. “I’m going to die.”
“Nonsense,” Jack flashed her a grin. “Stick with me, and you’ll never go hungry again!”
“Jack,” Angela flipped to the radio; she was sick of listening to Jack’s old mixed tapes. He had a knack for hinting Disney songs in the middle of some good tunes. “Why are we listening to the Lion King?”
“That was… uh… Fareeha?”
“Uh-huh. Because Ana would let you take her precious little goddess in this death trap.”
“What! Old Blue is no deathtrap.” He pat the hard edges of his Jeep Wrangler’s steering wheel. “She’s just… seen… better… days?”
Ang smirked. He was a cutie. “Admit it, you’re a kid at heart and you know it.”
“I’m a kid at heart and I know it.”
“See,” she wore a warm smile, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”
“No,” he flicked the station back. “No it wasn’t.”
Pulling into a vacant parking spot, Jack undid his seat belt before sliding out of the Jeep. One of the few perks of having no doors meant never having to unlock the doors! And, since it was ancient as fuck, he didn’t have to worry about anyone stealing anything. What was there to steal? A hard, cushion-less bench? The junker radio? The steering wheel from hell? The doors-oh wait, he took those off already.
It was a good thing it was a warm summer night. Then again, if it were any other season, he’d have bolted the doors back on and flipped to the hard top. He had no interest in freezing his lovely blonde.
“We’re here,” Jack could barely contain his excitement.
“I supp- wait a minute.” Her eyes shifted over to an all too familiar car. “Jack…” She pointed toward the vehicle. “That better not be who I t-”
“Angela!” Jesse rounded the truck and rushed up to the couple. “Jack said you’d be joining us tonight.”
She wished she’d said no. Had she known that other Overwatch agents were coming, she would’t have signed up for this. She had absolutely no desire to show off just how bad she was at aiming, at shooting. Besides, what’s this supposed to be date night, as in just Jack and Angela…?
“Angie! Jessica!” A familiar child’s voice came from behind them. Seconds later, the blurred figure rocketed into Angela’s stomach where she buried her head. Ang gave Fareeha’s head a good pat; the kid was growing up to be quite the beautiful young lady.
“Jessica?” Dare she even inquire?
“Jessica. We had a tea party this morning and I painted his nails. He is now Lady Jessica.”
Ang shot Jesse’s nails a look. Sure enough, they were a pretty, sparkly pink color. “Charming,” she smirked.
“Reyes said I could!” As soon as she stated it, the tanned man appeared from behind her.
“No, I said you could if Jesse said it was fine.”
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. And Jesse groaned. Clearly she relayed a different message to the cowboy.
“Well, kiddos,” Jack flashed the crew a wide grin, “are we ready to-”
“Daaaamn, look at these losers!” A bunch of young punks exited a mini-van.
“Dude, you think they can even see?”
“Oh snap, hot fuckin damn, check out Blondie.”
“You mean legs for days.”
Ang turned her head to Jack. It was his cue to do something.
“You do realize,” he quickly bridged the gap between his party and the thug-like teens, “she knows about a dozen different ways to kill you without leaving a trace behind, right?” Every word he spoke was done so in a way that would send a shiver down the spine. Didn’t help that he had this dark, shifty look in his eyes.
The majority shuttered at the comment; not really fans of death. All but one. And that one seemed impressed. “Well then, I look forward to meeting her kiss of death.”
“Kiss of…?!” Jack hiked up his sleeves. “Why I outta-”
“Jack,” Fareeha was holding on the man’s black t-shirt, “why don’t we do this the right way.”
“The right way?” His curiosity got the best of him.
Jesse stepped forward, loving the idea. He knew exactly where the kid was going. “Winner gets the girl, duh. Whoever has the high score gets to take Angela home.”
“Oh dear lord,” Angela muttered. “I am not a prize!”
“Worried your old man will lose you to me?” The kid cracked a smirk.
“Jack,” her head snapped to him.
“Don’t worry, hun.” His arms fell boastfully on his hips. “I won’t lose.”
Once in the arena, the crew was given their gear. The rules were read in perhaps the most monotone, lackluster voice they’d ever heard (really, it made the rules drag on and on and on). And the scoreboard served as a taunting reminder as to what their goal was.
“Old man,” the kid from before stepped forward, “you’re going to need this. Good luck because,” his finger pointed up at the score board, “I’m JACK1N0FF-007.”
Jack gagged before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh yeah, kid? See those scoreboards?” He pointed to the ones from previous years. “I’m SKIPPY76.”
The raven’s jaw fell on the floor and lingered there just long enough to collect dust.
“Yeah,” he recovered with complacent grin. “Still, thanks for the luck, kiddo.” He winked before moving to the weapon’s locker. It was time to load up and move out. “You wanna pistol?” He grabbed one for Ang. Before passing it to her, he fiddled with it. Not overly fond of the design, he put it back and picked up another one. It looked identical but this one had a better weight to it. That and it was white and gold instead of green and blue.
“Preferably. Unless there’s a minigun or rocket launcher.”
Jack cocked a brow. “Why would you want one of those?”
Fareeha laughed and answered for Angela. “Because you don’t need to aim with those, silly!”
“Exactly. Because I can’t miss.”
The darkness ate her. It swallowed her whole.
Despite her best attempts, Angela couldn’t get the flashbacks out of her mind. She knew all of this was fake. For fun. To help the guys relax. But the bang-bang-bang and the wisps of smoke just brought back ghosts. Horrors.
Clinging to her pistol for dear life, Angela tried to find her way out. She’s holed herself up in a corner underneath the stairwell to the upper level. Thus far, no one had spotted her. And although she was grateful fort his, she was more concerned with leaving here. Getting back into the light. Away from this. Away from the memories.
Crawling on her stomach, the blonde moved like a snail across the concrete floor. A few times, she lowered her head too much, which caused her chin to bear a few cuts, similar to rug burn. Nothing major, all minor nicks, but enough that it looked like she was having a terrible time.
She was, what, nineteen? She lost her parents when she was a kid and ever since that day, she’d been taken from the war. Ran from the darkness. She forced herself to learn. To become a scientist, a doctor. She sought to save lives, rather than take them.
And then, one day, Overwatch came knocking. They promised to help her dream become a reality. They spoke of peace, of justice.
They had one wish for her. To smile.
She had one wish for them. To save.
Together, they would bring about a change.
Each day spent with Overwatch, Angela grew closer to a medical breakthrough. She spent countless hours hunched over a desk, a petri dish, ceaseless amounts of data, endless hours of graphs, charts, and research notes, the occasional db (dead body). She was glad to be safe, behind closed doors. Welled up in some state-of-the-art facility.
And then, then the riots happened. The uprisings. The attacks.
Her hand was forced. She was put on the field, but not as a soldier. She was a medic. She was there to help.
To kill, to hurt? That wasn’t her. She hated violence. Loathed it.
Why did I agree to this? She kept asking herself that question. Even though this arena was fake, the guns were fake, she couldn’t stop the bombs her mind dropped on her.
The blood. Her mother’s screen. Her father’s final words.
She jumped from her skin. Gun fumbling from her hands, those panicked blue eyes looked up at the voice with the utmost sense of fear. Her face flushed of all its color. Her wide-eyed, frightened stare made her look small, weak. Sheer terror controlled every aspect of her form. She was petrified.
“Angela,” his voice broke down her walls. His arms wrapped around her. Reminded her that she was safe. That this was all just a game. It was for fun. To relax.
“Shhh,” he continued to hold her, coddling her face against his chest plate. “I’ve got you,” he holstered his gun. They were safe, out of laser point’s way. For a moment, he could hold her. Enjoy her.
“Shhhh,” he cooed again. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
At this point, Jack realized the game of laser tag was no longer top priority. Angela was shaking to the core. She felt numb, cold. Something was definitely wrong and, despite wanting to get the high score, he knew catering to Angela’s needs far outweighed his own boyish desires.
“Ang,” his cheek pressed lightly against hers. Slowly, through contact, he felt his own flesh cool. Each second he kept his cheek pressed against hers meant an exchange of heat and much needed comfort. His warmth into her frozen, scared body. He’d get her back. Push away the fragments of darker days, bitter nights.
Hands completely engulfing her, he tugged the woman down into his lap. They were literally sitting ducks. Anyone that came down the stairs would have a clear shot at them, Jack knew this. But, again, his need to help Angela cope with the darkness overcame all other needs.
It also helped that Jesse was on top of things. High up in a tower, he kept a close eye on the pair. If anyone got too close, he’d begin suppression fire and convince them to turn their sorry asses around. As much as he hated to admit it, seeing Jack with Ang did make him happy. Jack was the right choice, when push came to shove.
“Jessica,” Fareeha tugged on Jesse’s vest, “why aren’t we moving?”
“New mission,” he retorted. “Need to protect the fallen angel,” he gestured down to Angela.
Eyes wide, the raven puffed out her cheeks. “We’ll protect them, just like they always protect us!”
Slowly, her color returned. She felt warm again. Whole again.
Who knew a few long minutes sitting in the dark could do this? She always hated the dark and yet, with his arms wrapped firmly around her, the dark didn’t seem so bad.
“J-Jack,” her voice cracked as she fought back her frustrated tears. She was ruining date night. She was ruining his chance to get the high score.
“Nope,” he blew a puff of air against her cheek. “You’re not allowed to say it.” When his lips made contact with her taut flesh, a farting noise jiggled her cheek. In that split second, both burst into laughter.
“Jack Morrison,” she swatted loosely at him, “that is not the kind of behavior a soldier like yo-”
Again, he pressed his lips firmly against her. This time, it was her neck. Forcefully blowing into her skin, another gassy (well this time more airy) noise escaped from her folds.
“Jaaaack,” she fought to keep that laugh in her throat.
He huffed in another big gulp of air. Burrowing back into her neck, he recreated that tender, juicy, farting noise from before.
Unable to contain her laughter any longer, she burst into both tears and a fit of laughter. Each chuckle caused her stomach to ache. This was too much. He was too much. The feeling-like the buzz on your lips when you hum-tickled. It fought the darkness and drew forth the mood she needed.
After snorting a few few more times, she eventually pulled away from him. Panting, Angela ran a hand across her forehead. With weary eyes, she gave Jack a once over. “Just how old are you again?”
“According to you?” There was that devilish grin of his. “Old.”
“I…” she was flustered. Her face completely red. She did call him old…but… ugh!
His spryness caused her to gleam. Despite having a good few years on her, he was still as young as she was. Hell, probably younger. Mature in the mind (and bed), but all goofs and giggles when it counted.
“Jack,” she rose with the help of his extended hand. “Thank you.”
“For…?” His head cocked to the side.
“This,” she leaned forward. A kiss landed square on his lips. “For being you.”
One kiss wasn’t enough. Hands falling around her hips, he yanked his woman in close. Their noses butt against one another as their lips became familiar with each other’s.
There was no forcing. There was just doing.
Twisting his lips, Jack plunged in deeper. His tongue twirled around hers, which caused her heart to skip a beat. He was always so smooth. So perfect.
His kisses? Ugh, they were to die for.
Melting into him, she began to purr.
“Jaaaack,” she half-moaned, half-pleaded ,“you’re the devil.”
“Uh-huh,” his lips separated from hers. “Because I sometimes run around in this red and black Devil Suit. Yup, you got me.”
Chewing her lip, she flitted her lashes up at him. “It’s only a prototype.”
“And it’s only for my eyes. In my bed.”
“Ooooh?” Her sweet breath kissed him right in the face. She loved to see him get jealous. Get clingy.
In for another kiss she went. This time, she put her tongue in his mouth. She liked the feel of his teeth. Smooth, polished. Even though they weren’t perfect cosmetically speaking (they weren’t in a straight line all the time), she loved them. They were like a game to her. She loved the dips and turns. The cracks, the crevices. The way his-
She pulled back. “I think I owe you,” she flirted.
Jack’s smug mug sat flat on his face. “You won’t hear me c-”
The tail end of his comment was drowned out by the whirl of the alarm. Sixty seconds remaining.
“You better get out there,” Ang commented, noticing that he was just a handful of points behind first place.
“Eh,” Jack shrugged, “I’ve got something better right here.”
Her cheeks pulsed a raspberry color.
Forcefully yet gingerly, he shoved her right into a corner. There, he allowed their lips to crash into one another yet again.
She moaned into his mouth. He thrust his hips forward just a bit.
They wanted each other. And bad.
Too bad they were surrounded by young punks.
Still, once they got home-assuming Jack could last that long in the Jeep and not pull over on some side road-they’d have their fun. Hash it all out. Between the sheets.
Her hand fell in his soft blonde locks while the other one copped a feel of that mighty fine ass (who cares if it looked flat-he was just bad at picking out decent butt-fitting pants).
In return, Jack’s hands slipped beneath her shirt. So what if the straps of the breast plate complicated things. He figured out how to fondle her breasts in the darkness. Even if only for a second.
“Twenty,” a countdown began. “Nineteen.”
Angela’s heart raced. Jack’s thundered within his chest.
Each kiss grew sloppier. Wetter. They needed to bust outta this popsicle joint and get down on each other. But the moment, the darkness, the risk-oh was it tempting.
“Ten… nine… eight…”
“Pew, pew, plashooooo!”
A blinding blue light pushed all the shadows off her face. Her chest flickered. It pulsed. It glowed.
Eyes furrowing, she patted at the flashing lights.
“Three… M3RCY down … one…!”
The lights came on. The entire arena was a mess of smoke and painfully hideous decorations that were to server as 'walls’ and 'bushes.’
Blinking, she looked up from her chest and over to Jack.
There, plastered across his face was the biggest, most devious grin she’d ever seen.
“JACK MORRISON,” she stepped forward to smash the hell out of him.
Hands up, he turned quickly on his heels.
“And that’s my cue to run like hell!”
As she bolted after him, her ears picked up the announcer’s words.
“SKIPPY76 takes the top spot! SKIPPY76 is the winner!”
Despite hating him for using her as his final set of points, she was secretly happy to know that Jack had won. That and the fact that he chose her laser noise sound effect to finish her off.
Aside from Sara, who in the dctv universe do you think len would be attracted to/consider pursuing something with?
That’s really hard to say?
And attraction is very different from genuinely considering pursuing something. Who he’s attracted to could be any number of characters and we’d never really know, because most people don’t act on every (or even most) passing attraction(s)?
So I’m approaching this from the angle of “who would he genuinely consider pursuing or try to pursue” and my answer is coming up pretty short (sticking to canon, that is, because I can ship a lot in fandom).
Because with Sara, a few preconditions (after basic attraction) were also met? She’s single, she’s a badass who can hold her own in a fight, she’s more morally grey than most of the heroes he’s met so far, and she has her own checkered past and demons that she wrestles with. They’re working together closely and he knows he can trust her to have his back and that she has a huge loyalty to all of the team. She demonstrates (in S1) great emotional insight into others and cuts right through (his) bullshit but she’s typically non-judgemental about it. She doesn’t try to change him but she does expect him to be authentic and a better version of himself.
Aside from shipping coldwave (which I think is super canon-plausible), I can’t really see him pursuing anyone else on the Legends voyage. Jax is too young and too much like a younger brother (or son, given their ages…), Stein is married and their personalities would clash, Len and Rip are too at odds and Len doesn’t trust him, same with Ray tbh?, and Kendra seems pretty uninterested in Len and Mick and sees them as the dangerous criminals on the team. I think Len would find her too sweet for him? And he’d fine Nate too frustrating/annoying.
Of all the Legends, I can see him maybe having a thing for Amaya, to be honest, once he got to know her. Once she showed her (moral) flexibility a bit and they found a way to joke with each other. But I think he’d find her a bit strict? And maybe not easy to connect with or open up to.
For Arrow…it would be hard to me to see him with any of the Arrow ladies. Thea is too young and he would not at all be her type. Felicity is too… earnest? And would need more from him emotionally than he’s ready to give. Laurel comes the closest, but her moral compass and her being a DA make me think they might not actually get along much.
For the men… haha, I can’t decide if it would work perfect or be a complete and utter trainwreck to have him and Oliver together. I feel like they are too similar in certain regards, which would leave them often at odds and in competition. And by another token, Oliver has done a lot of killing (low-level) criminals and I think Len would see him as a deadly agent of justice and it would take a while to get around that reputation. And Digg wouldn’t put up with Len’s shit in the slightest (plus Digg is [was?] with Lyla) so… idk.
Which leaves us with Flash characters. Caitlin is an immediate ‘no’ because she wouldn’t be attracted to a guy like him at all. She likes guys who work out and who compliment and spoil her a little, guys that make her feel safe and protected and talk softly to her and she wouldn’t be comfortable with Len and his coldness. (And yes I ship her and Mick…). Iris seems unlikely because she was pretty scathing of him, and she needs honesty in a relationship, like a lot (with Eddie and now with Barry) and I don’t see that as something Len could really provide her with, and he’d be exhausted even trying to. I can see her lecturing him a lot and him not having any of it.
I can see Len being compatible with either Barry or Cisco though, to be honest. Not that he’d ever genuinely pursue anything with either of them, based on canon. Barry is his enemy, but he’s got most of the same checklist as Sara does: badass, surprisingly morally grey and has plenty of personal demons, has worked with Len and can see through and cut through his bullshit but does so while having rapport instead of being preachy. With Cisco… Len’s straight up admitted he likes Cisco, and he loved the alias Cisco gave him. Cisco is badass, clever, gorgeous, and has his own moral greys that crop up sometimes. He’s also funny and I think Len would really enjoy having him around. I can’t say if it would ever end up in flirting and romance territory, but I can just see them hitting it off.
But yeah, sorry dude, if we’re sticking hard to canon, the answer is pretty much that he wouldn’t genuinely try to pursue any of them (except Mick, who is already his husband).
Callout post for @cisnowflake, aka Joey. Callout for, sorry, being an incredible human being. He’s actually the sweetest and he has a million pets. He likes having sex in weird places and has an adorable cat named Mugan. He’s super nice and literally a babe. If you don’t believe me just browse his selfie tag.
He’s a security guard and probably wouldn’t hurt a fly unless you steal something then nope, here come the claws. Apparently people have been acting super creepy to him so stop is pls. He’s too adorable for this shit.
your tagged post is great. louis would not tease a fan by saying they're 'crying about' him talking to update accounts and giving them the middle finger. i'm not saying he doesn't have a sense of humor and we know he likes the middle finger but he is not aggressive in his interaction with fans and always goes on and on about his appreciation for them. those tweets just sound too hard and too confrontational and way too pre-packaged. but millions of people will read them. :(((
Seriously. I don’t understand how anyone can think this is him? Someone give me one example of Louis being mean in his interaction with… anyone? When teasing the boys or even interviewers… he’s never been mean or rude? Even when you can tell he disagrees or doesn’t like someone, he’s not crude about it?
There’s a reason Louis started doing thank you videos instead of using Twitter, isn’t there? And he’s never been anything but sweet in them, or with fans at M&Gs or whatnot. For fuck’s sake, even when he said “careful! there’s fucking cars, you crazies” to some fans, his tone was fond.