look at his back for christ sake

The problem with living with Yoonseok
  • -Yoongi has a habit of leaving the light on, hobi has a plan-
  • Yoongi: *Walks into his room and flips light on absently*
  • Jin: Hey Yoongi, wanna come with me to the store?
  • Yoongi: Cool *walks out of room*
  • Jin: *Rolls eyes and goes for switch* Why do you-Yoongi...
  • Yoongi: *comes back* Yeah?
  • Jin: Have you seen this? *points to switch*
  • Yoongi: *looks and sees a sticker of Hoseok over it, with the switch between his legs in the up position and writing that says: You wouldn't want to leave me turned on now would you?*
  • Guess I'll have to get used to wrapping my lips around that too
  • Jin: Oh for Christ sakes Yoongi!

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
aka the Follow You Down Christmas spectacular/shitshow.  I blame @kashyuriart.  Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.


2:00pm

Mairon’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text message that had popped up on the screen.  One word, sent from Melkor: help.

Mairon rolled his eyes, set his phone aside, and picked up the report he had been reading.  A moment later, his phone buzzed again.  Another message from Melkor appeared on the screen: Help.

Mairon clucked his tongue and turned his phone over, screen facing the desk. He swiveled his chair gently and skimmed the page in his hand, looking for where he had left off.

The phone buzzed again.  Against his better judgement, Mairon picked it up and looked at the message that had just arrived: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp.

“For God’s sake,” he muttered.

Before he could respond, a barrage of identical messages began to fill the screen.

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP

“Jesus Christ,” he swore.  He pushed himself back from his desk and stalked across the hall to Melkor’s office, his phone still buzzing incessantly in his hand.  “For the love of God,” he snapped, pushing into Melkor’s office. “What do you want?”

“Oh, thank God,” said Melkor, laying his hand dramatically over his heart.  “I thought you’d never come.”

“What do you want?” asked Mairon again, unmoved.

“I need an electrical engineer.”

“I’m not an electrical engineer.”

“That’s not what your master’s degree says.”

“Oh my God,” said Mairon, throwing his head back and sighing.  “What do you want?”

“Advice,” said Melkor.  “From my dear friend, and go-to problem solver.”

“Melkor, I swear to God—”

“Alright, alright,” said Melkor.  “Relax.  I need you to look at something.”  He slid a piece of paper across his desk.

Mairon picked it up, his brows knitting together as he looked at the scribbled notes.  “What am I looking at?”

“Plans,” said Melkor.

“Plans for what?”

“The greatest light display you’ve ever seen,” said Melkor.  

“I don’t know what I expected,” said Mairon, shaking his head.

“Aw, come on,” said Melkor.  “I’ve tried, like, four different configurations, and I’ve blown a different fuse every time.  I’m desperate.”

“You need is an electrician, not an electrical engineer.”

“But what I have,” said Melkor, “is an electrical engineer.  So…”Mairon scowled, and Melkor adopted an ingratiating grin.  “Please?”

“You know I’m incredibly busy, right?”

“Pretty please?”

“I have like, eight projects I need to finish before New Year’s.”

“Aw, come on, Scrooge.  It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re a huge drain on my productivity.  You know that, right?”

“Is that a yes?”

Mairon sighed.  “I want you to know this is resignation, not willingness.  Do you hear me?”

“Nope,” said Melkor, scooping up his plans and grinning widely.  “I can’t hear you over the sound of Christmas cheer. Come on,” he said, tossing Mairon his coat and heading for the door.  “I’m parked out front.”

5:15pm

“Holy shit,” said Thuringwethil, looking around in awe.  “I should’ve brought my sunglasses.”

“Pretty sweet, huh?” said Melkor, beaming with pride as he looked around at his apartment, which looked vaguely as though Willy Wonka had been allowed to design a storefront holiday display.  There were lights around every window and door frame in sight, blinking their blues and greens and reds in a clash of meandering patterns.  There were soft, white icicle lights strung in zig-zags across the ceiling.  Red and silver tinsel lined every windowsill and wound intricately around the banister of the stairs.  There were two trees in the living room, each at least six feet tall and dripping with so many lights and ornaments that the boughs drooped dangerously low to the ground. There were small trees on every side table in sight, each decorated in a different color.  Four stockings hung over the fireplace, which bled soft light and warmth into the room.

“That’s one word for it,” said Thuringwethil, eyeing the miniature train that wound around the perimeter of the room, slaloming between trees and furniture before disappearing through the doorway and into the kitchen.

“I love it,” said Gothmog, pushing Thuringwethil inside and closing the door behind them.  

“You’re going to blow a fuse,” said Thuringwethil, looking suspiciously at the lights.

“I’ve got it covered,” said Melkor.  He craned his head toward the kitchen.  “Mairon?” he called.

“Still working,” came the reply, from somewhere in the depths of the cavernous apartment.

“Jesus,” said Gothmog.  “Still? You guys left like, three hours ago.”

“It’s a delicate procedure,” said Melkor, grinning.

“And judging by the amount of lights already up,” said Thuringwethil, “possibly dangerous as well.  Where should I put this stuff?”  She held up the bags in her hands.

“What is it?”

“Food,” she said, heading toward the kitchen.  “I brought mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans.  Gothmog has the drinks.”  She set the bags down carefully on the counter, the crockery clinking gently as it settled.  “I need to heat it up, though.  Can I use the oven?”

“Go for it.”

“Did you heat up the ham, or are you going to wait?”

“What?”

“The ham,” she said.  “Does it need to go in too?’

Um,” said Melkor.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then where is it?”

“I have to pick it up,” said Melkor.  “I was just on my way out, actually.”

“You’re not going to find one on this late notice.”

“Bet me,” said Melkor, flashing a grin as he headed for the door.

“And that’s why we never leave Melkor in charge of anything,” she said, sighing as she turned the oven on to preheat.  “It’s Christmas dinner, for crying out loud.  How can you forget the ham?”

“On the bright side,” said Gothmog, “we have plenty of wine.”

“Thank God,” said Thuringwethil.  “Now if we can just find the corkscrew…”

5:36pm

“Honey!” called Melkor, kicking open the front door.  “I’m home!”

“Wow,” said Gothmog.  “That was fast.”  He turned in his spot on the couch and craned to look at Melkor.  “What’d you get us?”

“Ham,” said Melkor.  “As promised.”  He ambled into the kitchen and set an enormous platter on the counter.

“Oh my God,” said Thuringwethil, turning away from the stove.  “Where’d you get that?”

“Downstairs.”

“Downst—from your building’s Christmas party?”

“Maybe.”

“You stole the ham from your building’s community Christmas party?”

“’Stole’ is such a strong word.”

“How about ‘grinched’?” suggested Gothmog, coming over to inspect the platter.

“To be fair,” said Melkor, “the Grinch stole the roast beast.”

“The type of meat isn’t really the issue here,” said Thuringwethil.

“You wanted a ham,” said Melkor.  “I got you a ham.”

“You stole one, you mean.”

“Grinched,” said Gothmog.

“Don’t encourage him,” said Thuringwehtil.

“Alright,” said Mairon, coming into the kitchen at last.  “We may have an illegal number of extension cords in here, but I think it’ll hold for the night.”

“So everything’s hooked up?” asked Melkor.

“It’s good to go,” said Mairon, walking to the counter and surveying the food with interest.  “Is that ham? Fantastic.”

“It’s stolen,” said Thuringwethil, frowning at Melkor.

“I don’t even care,” said Mairon.  “I’m starving.”

“Then let’s eat,” said Melkor, maneuvering a stack of plates out of the cupboard.

“Okay,” said Thuringwethil, “but—”

“Thuringwethil, it’s Christmas.”

“So?”

“So take this,” said Melkor, handing her a glass of wine, “and this,” he continued, placing a Santa hat gently on her head, “and for once in your life, relax.”

8:20pm

“Is it me,” said Gothmog, “or is this eggnog getting weaker?”

“No,” said Thuringwethil, “you’re just getting drunker.”

“Yeah,” said Gothmog.  “You’re probably right.”

“Drink,” said Melkor, waving his glass at the TV and sloshing eggnog onto the carpet, “as we watch our hero, one-time child star Macaulay Culkin, attempt to smash Joe Pesci’s skull with a paint can.”

“I swear we didn’t drink nearly this much last year,” said Gothmog, pouring himself a fresh glass.

“We drink exactly the same amount every year,” said Melkor.  “One drink every time Kevin sets off a trap that could’ve killed someone.”

“At least we’re only watching Home Alone,” said Thuringwethil.  “Remember the year we watched the sequel, too?”

“That was my first year, if I remember correctly,” said Mairon.

“I think you’re right,” said Gothmog.  “Somehow, you were the only one who didn’t get completely shitfaced.”

“How did you manage that?” asked Melkor.

“I took strategically smaller sips,” said Mairon.

“Cheater,” said Melkor, dumping eggnog into Mairon’s glass.  “You better make up for it tonight.”

“Working on it,” said Mairon.  He nodded at the screen.  “Drink.”

12:38am

“Look at ‘em,” said Melkor, feigning disgust as he nodded toward the couch, where Gothmog and Thuringwethil had fallen asleep.  “Couple of lightweights, I tell you.”

“Give them a break,” said Mairon mildly, sprawled sideways in a chair. “It’s been a long month.”

“Yes,” Melkor agreed, sighing.  “The fact that it’s over is just about the best gift I could’ve asked for.”

“Oh, man,” said Mairon, heaving himself out of his chair and looking around. “I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Shoot,” said Mairon, not listening.  “Where did I put it?”

“Put what?”

“My coat.”

“Kitchen,” said Melkor, standing up and trailing Mairon out of the room.

“Good call,” said Mairon, snatching his jacket from the kitchen table and rummaging in the pocket.

“What are you looking for?” asked Melkor, leaning against the island.

“This,” said Mairon triumphantly, pulling a slightly crumpled envelope from his pocket and turning around.

“What is it?”

“A gift,” said Mairon, smoothing it gently.  He walked over to the island and held the envelope out in front of him. “Merry Christmas, Melkor,” he said.

“No fair,” said Melkor.  “This is a no-present party.”

“I know,” said Mairon.  “But I couldn’t resist.”

Melkor broke the envelope’s seal and fished out a piece of paper, folded in thirds.  Setting aside the envelope, he pulled open the folded paper and scanned it.  His eyes widened as he read, and he looked up at Mairon, mouth agape.  “Is this what I think it is?”

“Patent papers on the Silmaril programs,” said Mairon.  “It’s still preliminary, but—“

“It’s perfect,” said Melkor firmly, crossing the distance between them.  He lifted Mairon’s chin and kissed him gently on the lips.  “Absolutely perfect,” he murmured, kissing him again.  “Which makes it, like, doubly terrible that I didn’t get anything for you.”

“Keep that up,” said Mairon, “and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal,” said Melkor, and kissed him again.  

First look at Season 4 trailer came out today and here is Molly, putting Sherlock on his place again by saying “For Christ’s sake, Sherlock, this is not a game.” 

I can tell these two scenes are not connected with each other but they are talking in Molly’s scene, whereever they are and Molly is angry.

SHERLOLLY, PEOPLE.

I am so excited for the new season omg, Moriarty is probably back, Sherlock looks like hell and the trailer is just awesome. Check it out here

STONY SOULMATE AU

Okay, LISTEN I HAD AN IDEA


“When you have a soulmate, you can listen to whatever music he’s listening to, everywhere in the world.
But all Tony could hear in the back of is mind was silence.
So he listen to loud music, so loud he can’t even hear his thoughts .
He was so lonely, then the Pepper fiasco, the Avengers, then his friendship with Steve(and attraction because that man was a god)
One day, all the avengers where in the kitchen, and at some point Tony shout out loud:
“FOR CHRIST SAKE ROGERS, BUBBLE BUTT? WHAT KIND OF MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?”
And everyone looks at Tony, because Steve was listening the music with headphones on and the room was silence an Tony was like WHAT
And Steve smile was huge when he rushes to Tony side for kissing him hard
Because finally, finally there was no silence at all, he was not alone

Steve when was young was alone too, when he came into this new world he never expect to listen something other than silence, if he had a soulmate it was dead long time ago.
All the loud sound confuses him, he passes a lot of time with Tony, he liked Tony, a lot, and he was accustomed Tony’s loud music taste, even when they fought and Tony would go to the lab, Steve could listen his music loud and clear, he would think that it was the superhuman hearing.
Now that he was in their bed listening in his head the sappy love song that Tony listens to, to make Steve blush, he smiles to himself thinking how wrong he was.“

I’m not english so if anyone wants to continue this, making it better, I will be very very EXTREMELY HAPPY

Maverick Mishaps

@catachrom

A tsk came from the unamused boy as he followed people into the store he clearly didn’t want to be in. He wanted to ride out what he was feeling, which for once was not a good high at all. Rodgers felt as if a wet blanket was dropped over his head and shoulders while it dared to try and pull him to the ground. His eyes felt foggy, his head felt thick, he wanted to lay down.
For Christ sake why couldn’t he just lay down?
He needed new friends, he thought, lucky enough to even be able to still think with this drug block in his conscious, ripping him away from the reality around him. Fingers scanned over the items on the shelf yet he felt nothing whatsoever with his senses that were no longer in tune with his body. He took a step back, and then another, and another before he found himself on the floor.
Cloudy eyes looked up at the lights blaring down at him while the noises of worried ‘friends’ spun around him yet drowned out like he was on an airplane with plugged ears.
Slowly his eyes began to close; he just wanted to sleep this off.

It is obvious to Renee that Anita needs to talk to her about something, so she agrees to her request that they go to a nearby wine bar after lunch instead of the mall. They have several more drinks before Anita confesses to throwing Jared’s PlayStation into the swimming pool. 

Renee: Oh my God! Have you completely lost your mind?

Anita: Can you be quiet? People are looking…  

Renee: It’s just…oh my God, Anita. You need serious help. What happened, for Christs’s sake?

Anita: Jared wouldn’t do as he was told, he wouldn’t stop playing his stupid game even though I must’ve told him a hundred times to clean his room, he was just muttering under his breath, you know, back-chatting me. He always says things about Botox and about how I’m crazy because he knows that sets me off. Jim was at golf or he might have been able to defuse the situation. Anyway, I just snapped. I could actually FEEL something physically snapping inside my head. I could see him screaming at me but I couldn’t hear him because there was too much white noise in my head-

Renee: Anita! He’s a child! He’s not responsible for your behaviour.

Anita: He still knows how to wind me up. He’s just like Saffron.

Renee’s heart caves in for Jared.

Renee: And how is Saffy? Still refusing to see you or talk to you?

Anita: She knows better than to come near me at the moment. Not after she deliberately disobeyed me and went to that concert-

Renee: Harry said she told him she never wanted to see you again. Ever. How does that make you feel?

Anita makes a face and tries to catch the eye of the barman.

Renee: Do you want Jared to feel the same way about you as Saffron?

Anita: Well, I can’t do much about it. It’s probably inevitable.

Renee: Okay, sweetie. I think it’s time to go home. 

Anita: You can go home. I have to be twice as drunk as this before I’m going home. 

She looks towards a group of young men playing pool at the other end of the room.

Anita: Or anywhere else for that matter. 

@hartwinorlose Happy Birthday dear, have a bit of Hartwin seasonal fluff as a present.


Merlin hadn’t bothered to knock on the door and looked unsurprised to see Harry with a tumbler in his hand. He did look like he disapproved. It was a very unnecessary conclusion to the idiocy of the week. 

“Christ sake Harry!” Merlin snapped.

“I believe some might consider that particularly blasphemous this time of year my friend.” Harry muttered just over the top of his glass. 

“Then have him come put up with you himself instead of making me.” And before Harry could say something to put a stop to Merlin getting real wind behind his sail Merlin plowed on with his speech. “He might not to be so tempted to take you out back to shoot you since you seem so damned determined to be miserable for another holiday when you could perfectly well be as idiotically happy as is fitting! Who’d have thought Harry Hart was such a bloody coward!” 

To his credit Harry was staring at his friend and managed to get the tumbler of whiskey down before he dropped it. 

“Surely you can’t mean to encourage me-”

“Eggsy will be going to Berlin after the holidays.” Merlin interprets without a hint of regret.

“What?” Harry finds himself rasping.

“You heard me. So either go after the boy before he’s gone or let him go for good. Enough of this limbo business.” 

“I have to go.” Harry manages before he’s brushing past Merlin picking up speed as he goes out of his office. His new motivation making entirely miss the growing smirk on Merlin’s face.

“Finally.” The scot breathes once he’s alone in Galahad’s office.


“ETA two minutes and counting down at your current pace Galahad.” Archimedes says over Harry’s glasses feed as he continues to weave through the crowd. 

Harry is more breathless with his own nerves than the dead run he’d kept while making it through the two inches of slouch and snow on the ground the whole way from the shop. Archimedes had stopped him from climbing into the cab when she’d explained Eggsy had plans with his mother not far away for some of the festive promotion of the local shops. 

It’s frankly ungentlemanly of Harry to have dove between the group of carolers to startle them off track like he had but he couldn’t risk missing his chance while he had any nerve left. Harry doesn’t think much of the squawking coming after his hasty path. 

“One minute. Watch out there’s a drop coming up in ten meters.” Archimedes warns softly. “Then you should have a level shot at him, Galahad.”

If his tongue would work and the butterflies in his stomach would stop Harry would have thanked the woman for her help. Completely lacking in teasing and mocking, at that. he really owed her quite the Christmas gift for this even if he had to kill a man for it.

“I’ll be signing off now Galahad, best of luck. Go get him.” Are Archimedes parting words before the communication feed on his glasses cuts out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment to spot Eggsy in the crowd in his long coat and the red and green tartan scarf Harry gave him once the cold weather had begun in earnest. That Harry had seen him wearing often. Harry sucks in a few quick, deep breaths as his stomach rolls. 

Eggsy is beside Michelle who is talking animatedly to her son. They both look happier than Harry has seen them in too long. Part of Harry doesn’t want to disturb them, but the desperate part of Harry thinks of Merlin’s words. 

The pair of them are about to keep moving on when Harry pushes himself onwards. Shouting after Eggsy, obvious to the picture he is. 

Flushed, out of breath, and rumpled Harry Hart comes up to Eggsy and Michelle like he’s just run to catch up to them (rightly since he has). A few flacks of snow in his styled hair that haven’t melted from his body heat just yet as the light snow continues to fall around them. The hem of his trousers are damp from the snow and slush he’s run though, splattering up almost as high as his knees even. He’s even left without his overcoat. Bespoke suit the only warmth against the December chill. 

“Harry?” Eggsy asks as Michelle just looks confused, if a bit concerned as well.

Swallowing back his nerves Harry steps up closer and snatches up one of Eggsy’s gloved hands in his own. 

“I’m going to make a complete fool of myself, so if you want to avoid a spectacle then leave me standing here, Eggsy, otherwise I’m never going to be able to get this out.” Harry blurts out, stumbling over syllables while watching Eggsy’s expression grow more worried.

Rather than leave Eggsy squeezes Harry’s hand back, holding back asking what is wrong just yet.

Harry has to look down and take a deep breath before he can manage to force himself to speak again. Disarming bombs is less nerve-wracking than this, harry decides. But when he lays eyes on Eggsy’s face again Harry thinks that Eggsy is also more rewarding then saving the whole of the world for how much he means to him.

“Forgive me but Eggsy if I don’t say it not I’m never going to be able to. With you leaving I don’t know if I can stand losing what minuscule chance I may have even now-”

“Harry wha’-”

“But by gods I need you to understand just how much I love you. I’ve never been better or worse than I am now because of you. Never worried so much about even the smallest of things than I do when they concern you. I want to be the sort of man you might regard with affection but I’d never want to tether you to me when you could have far better than an old fool like me. I just…cannot help but to be caught in your light for how you shine so brilliantly.” Harry can feel some of the knots in his chest loosen and unfurl as he speaks. His silence had been more painful than he’d given it credit.

Harry huffs a soft breathless laugh, looking at Eggsy’s stunned face. Not minding the gathering crowd around them any mind. Not even more than noticing the way Michelle is gaping at them.

“Please, Eggsy, understand just how much light you brought into my life with just you presence. You are a wonder and I am happy to only ever be in your wake if that’s all I’ll be granted. But know how very in love I am with you.”

Eggsy is just staring at him mouth hanging open completely stunned. 

“With every little detail of you. The way you pout when you don’t get your way and you hunch over when you’re in a foul mood. The way you refuse to give anything but your best for what you believe in. How you’re so wholly devoted to the people ho care for in your life. I could go on and on until I have no breath left and be happy to give it and never express it well enough.”

“Harry..” Eggsy croaks at him voice heavy with emotion and his eyes looking more than slightly glassy with tears.

Harry is in that moment worried he’s ruined everything. “Eggsy?”

Then Eggsy tugs his hand away to pull Harry into a crushing hug, shaking against Harry’s chest faintly. There is little else Harry can do but put his arms back around him. 

“Please tell me I haven’t ruined everything.” Harry begs him even as he holds on tighter.

The answering squeeze around his waist isn’t discoursing but it also isn’t an answer.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you Eggsy…please pretend I didn’t say a word if it means I can keep you in some capa-”

“Shut up!” Eggsy snaps just a little hoarse still. Narrowed eyes settling on Harry’s face still shining a bit too much. “Can’t jus’ pull all tha’ out on someone and expect ‘em to be ready for it Harry.”

It does soothe a little of Harry’s nerves.

“If you need time please take it.” Harry says more sedately his earlier bolstering passion and honesty wilting.

“Don’t need it.” Eggsy mutters and sniffs quietly. “Idiot that you are I love you too Harry.”

It takes a moment to think further in but by the time it does the gathered crowd around them are cheering. Harry also hears the chant they’ve begun and feels just the slightest bit foolish for his very public declaration.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss.” The crowd chants. 

Before Harry can do much of anything Eggsy tugs him down to kiss him. It’s brief and a bit too forceful but Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt so on top of the world than that moment. He kisses Eggsy in return and hopes maybe this will explain better than the overflowing of his words earlier.

The crowd shouts and cheers around them. A few catcalls rising up and a whistle or two. 

A helpless, happy laugh escapes Harry when they break apart. Eggsy grins widely at him and looks quite pleased with himself. 

“Merlin did mention my goin’ to Berlin was only gonna be for a week, yeah?” Eggsy asks, though he doesn’t look like he’s upset with the turn of events.

Any cursing Harry might have done leaves his mind quickly enough when Eggsy leans up to kiss him against more gently. Harry can only return the gesture, hands reaching up to cup his face and bask in the chance to give Eggsy the love he’s harbored for him freely now. 

If the catcalls going on still say anything Harry isn’t doing a terrible job of it.

4

Did they forget about Quicksilver (Pietro Maximoff) in Captain America: Civil War? (Spoiler)

Most people say yes, that we lost our beloved, attractive and funny speedster in ‘Age of Ultron’ and neither Clint or Wanda mentioned him, but that is not the case!

Most of us know by now that Clint called his son ‘Nathaniel Pietro Barton,’ after both Natasha and Pietro. That’s the only thing Clint could really do, he couldn’t bring him back to life, but he could repay the boy for saving him and over everything else, he saved the Father of three children who would have had no Dad.

So why didn’t the writer/directions even mention him, I came out of the film so pissed off that his own sister failed to mention him, he died for Christ sake!!

But I watched it for a second time. When Steve walks into Wanda’s room to turn the screen off, on the wall beside him there are photos all stuck to the wall. One looks like a young boy with unruly brown hair - remind you of anyone? Maybe Tony found them for her online, or maybe she had them all her life. Her brother was her life for a long time, of course, she needed the memory of him. There are other pictures, one of a blurry family and one of a girl+ boy, also I think she had a picture of Clint’s son, she is probably close to Clint because of what happened, meaning she has met Nataniel Pietro and has known him, he is her brother’s legacy.

That wasn’t it. When Steve reunites with Clint, he thanks him for joining the team and Clint says something like no problem and then he turns to Wanda and states something like, “I owe a debt.” Of course, he does her brother died for him. I have a feeling that if Wanda and Pietro hadn’t come into their lives, Clint wouldn’t have gone on team Cap, he did it for Wanda and he did it for Pietro….(Rant over) (Credit to gif makers)

Costume Redesign

“That’s….ridiculous, Darcy.  No way.”

“That’s awesome, Darcy.  Yes way.”

Clint glared at Laura and she merely grinned at him and shrugged.  And then once Nathaniel had gotten off her lap and toddled away, she gave Clint the middle finger.  Clint narrowed his eyes even more and looked back at the sketches Darcy had been drawing.

“There’s no way he’s going to take you seriously, Darcy.  I mean, for Christ’s sake, you have a cape on that one!” Clint sighed at the ‘costume designs’ Darcy had busied herself with since she was finished with her daily Barton farm chores (mainly consisting of feeding and naming the chickens.  Also viciously defending said chickens any time anyone wanted to eat one of them).

“Thor has a cape, it’s totally awesome,” Darcy wrinkled her nose and put one of her colored pencils to her lips thoughtfully.  “What if it has a practicality to it?  Like…when the wind hits it, it can turn into a hang glider?  That’d be helpful.  I mean, he jumps out of stuff a lot.  It might be good to have a backup plan just in case Big Bird isn’t there to catch him.”

Keep reading

He falls back into an easy routine. 

Weeks pass by and he avoids to the convenience store, just for a little while. He convinces himself that he wants time to heal, that he has class and projects and he needs rest in order to get rid of the bruises. He’s not going to the hospital for a check up, it’s not happening. So he’s gotta take it slow. But honestly? It feels like it has more to do with how he doesn’t want to run into those guys again. 

He hopes they never came back looking for him, or to get even with Spencer. But…he remembers what he said to them, even in Spanish. He’d sounded like someone you didn’t want to mess with. 

Jackson has sent him texts here and there, just saying hi, saying he misses coming to the store and…catches himself on every single one because what the fuck? He doubts Spencer misses him. Christ’s sake. 

He wanders through the campus, heading back to his dorm. It’s raining, his face hurts, the bruise is still a soft purple just underneath his skin. Lip not looking too great, it’s hard to make makeup look nice. He’s frustrated and his umbrella goddamn sucks. 

He wants nothing more than to crawl in bed, peel this gray sweater and jeans off and– and he frowns. Stop. Sees someone out of the corner of his eye down a few set of steps. Is that…

He recognizes the movements. Hmm. Tilts his head as he moves forward and down one set of sets. Yeah, that’s definitely Spencer. It’s weird he’s on campus. Is he here to see him? Tries to rid himself of the butterflies that pop up when he thinks that. 

“Hey.” Jackson says as he approaches him, a few guys leaving the conversation right before. “Long time no see, stranger.” 

3

Jim opens the door to Joël when he arrives to collect Jared, and Joël can feel guilt prickling around the nape of his neck, running between his shoulder blades. It radiates from him like a vapour…how can Jim not sense it? Isn’t the man supposed to be the city’s most senior ranked detective, for Christ’s sake? How can he not know that 24 hours ago his wife was sitting astride Joël’s cock, her nails raking Joël’s back? Anita was crazy to think she could have escaped The Oaks undetected, Jim’s probably got special agents tracking her every move. He looks Joël up and down like he might look at a dog that’s peed on his car tyre. Joël stares back at him, immobilized by fear. Is that a gun in Jim’s hand? It looks like a cell phone, but…

Jim: JARED! 

Jared comes running.

Jim: What time are you going to bring him back?

Joël’s knees almost buckle from relief. This is what it must feel like to be on the brink of execution and then be granted a reprieve. He tries to hide his grin.

Joël : Well, I have to go to start work at 6, so uh, about 5?

Jim nods and pats Jared’s shoulder.

Jim: Okay, then. Have a good time.

Test, Test, Test... Where The Fuck Are All These Tests Coming  From? || Kai x Josh

Josh grumbled a bit as he held twenty three fucking positive pregnancy tests in his hands, and picked up two more. What the fuck? Wouldn’t you know you were pregnant after, like, the second positive one? For Christ’s sakes, he found one in the fucking fridge. And on the back porch. And like, ten in the god damned bathroom. The damn things were everywhere; oh, look, there’s another fucking pregnancy test! And guess, what? Fuckin’ positive! There wasn’t a single negative one in the batch! How much fucking money were spent o these damn things, and how many more were there?!

He stopped as he saw Kai… Holding another in his hand.

“Kai? Are these yours?”

welcometoblackwood

I'm Different

You looked out the window and saw the straight haired girl, still pretending to be looking at birds with her binoculars and not-so-discretely throwing glances at where you were. You raised an eyebrow, amused, and closed the curtain again, going back to the bed where your best friend was sitting.

- She’s still there? - he asked, hopefully.

- Yep.

Bobby groaned in desperation.

- When are they going to stop?! - he whined.

You shrugged in response and laid in the bed by his side, taking his PSP from the nightstand and looking for your last save in Tekken.

Suddenly you felt a weight on your belly and Bobby was moving and groaning above you.

- YAH! KIM JIWON! - you screamed and pushed him away.

- I’m being serious here!

- Oh for Christ sake, Bobby! You have two cute girls fallen for you and following you around. It’s not like is the first time it happens. - you said, annoyed - Just pick one and destroy their friendship! Or pick none and tease them until they’re crazy.

- You’re mean… - he mumbled, pouting, and then added - And they’re scary!

- They did nothing the previous ones haven’t done it already.

Bobby always had girls fallen for him. It was something you grew used to after being his best friend for so many years.

When you still studied together, before he moved away, it was a hell to be his best friend. Everyone seemed to assume you were together, so every girl who had interest on him - that being, every girl on the school - ended up bullying you.

He never showed interest in anyone, and for a while you even wondered if he was gay, but after bringing this up in a conversation, he fiercely denied and then admitted that the reason why he never showed interest in none of those girls was because he was already in love with somebody.

He refused to tell you who was it, and even though you were curious, after a while you let go of it.

- I don’t understand why you’re still so reluctant about girls having a crush on you. - you said going back to your game - I mean, you can’t still be in love with that girl you told me. You changed schools without confessing to her, there’s no way you’re going to see her again.

- I love how positive you are about love. - he said sarcastically and laid by your side again.

You shrugged.

- I’ve had a crush for you since we met and you never noticed. Don’t go blaming me for being pessimistic.

Silence.

You raised your eyes from the PSP and saw Bobby staring at you.

- You’re kidding me, right? - he blurted out after a while.

You laughed.

- It’s not my fault that you’re dumb, Jiwon! You were always so busy worrying about a girl who doesn’t know that you exist that you never noticed me! But it’s okay, really… We’re always going to be best friends anyway.

Before you could say anything else, Bobby was hugging you. His face was buried on your chest and his arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

- 바보… - he mumbled in korean against the cloth of your sweater.

- YAH! Kim Jiwon! Who is the fool?! Let me go!

He looked at you and suddenly his hands were on your cheeks and your faces were too close to each other.

- You. - he whispered - Me. We’re both fools.

And then he was kissing you.

And then you understood.

And, yes, you were both fools… two fools in love, who failed to notice sooner how much you love each other.