oh my god you don't know how badly i needed this

Dean wiped the table with a scowl, nearly knocking over a glass with his elbow before catching it and plunking it down loudly. His cheeks turned red as he spied a few women in sundresses giggling in a corner booth.

“Be right there,” he said, picking up the last of the plates and taking them back to the kitchen. The bus boy hadn’t shown up and since Dean was the manager at the seashell grill, the task fell to him along with his job as a server. In fact, tonight had been all around pretty bad if you included the fender bender he’d gotten into on his way to work and the three missed phone calls from his ex, Lisa, trying to get back together with him. Again.

Dean sighed, wishing he were anywhere but at work. It took a moment, but finally, flustered and flushed from the heat of the kitchen—even with the lazy ceiling fans that swirled above in quiet circles, he made it to the table.

“Sorry about that, ladies,” he said with a wink, turning up the side of his lip in typical beach-boy charm for the customers, even if he didn’t feel it.

A tall brunette leaned forward, ordering a pineapple drink right off the bat, a pink sparkly crown on her head. Dean smirked, noticing the glaze in her eyes.

“Bachelorette party?” he guessed, watching the blonde across from her, discreetly play footsie with a redhead—Charlie, he heard the blonde say.

“Yes!” yelled Charlie enthusiastically, throwing her arms in the air. “Anna is getting married next week,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

All three girls seemed incredibly tipsy and Dean couldn’t help but smile because as shitty as this night had started out, at least he would probably be tipped fairly well at the end of it.

Anna leaned forward, eyes roaming Dean’s fit form. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when barely, under her breath, she muttered something about still needing a stripper for the night.

“Alright,” he said too loudly, cutting her off. “Three Blue Hawaii’s coming up.”

“Wait,” said Charlie, her voice almost humorously serious. “We should probably wait for the maid of honor, don’t you think?”

Anna smiled and got out her phone, holding up a hand for Dean to wait, then dialed a number, scowling as one of the other girls kicked her accidentally under the table.

Dean resisted the urge to sigh, wishing tonight weren’t so empty in the restaurant, then maybe he could excuse himself from the haze of pink giggles to help another customer.

“Cassie!” Anna practically yelled into the phone at her friend. “Where are you?”

Keep reading

Don't Say Anything (part 3)

Summary: You finally decide to tell Bucky that you’ve been in love with him since the day you met but what happens when you walk in on him with a girl? And not just any girl; Natasha.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: I said it once and I’ll say it again, angst

A/N: I’m so glad you guys are liking this so far :)

You shower and get dressed, wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans before making your way over to Bucky’s room. Not knocking, you open the door and see Bucky and Nat lip-locked.

“Oh god..” you mutter, looking away. “Lock the door next time.”

You hear Nat giggle. “Sorry snooka.”

“You know, I’m just gonna go back to my room and watch movies. Maybe invite Steve or Tony. They like watching movies with me.” you say. “You two go back to what you were doing.”

It hurt like hell. Everything hurt.

“No! No, let’s go.” Bucky exclaimed.

“I’m not gonna sulk in my room okay?”

“We’re going out. C’mon.” you can hear Bucky stand up from his bed.

“No Bucky, you stay here. I’ll get Tony to take me. Or maybe Steve, he likes animals too.” you think it over while peering out into the hallway.

“No!” he says quickly before clearing his throat. “I mean no, I’m the one who suggested it so I’m taking you.”


“Nuh uh, come on. Take that cute butt to the elevator.” he says and you can hear his keys jingling as he picks them up.

“It is cute, isn’t it?” Nat says and you bite the inside of your cheek.

It’s like you wanted to hate her but you couldn’t. You wanted to hate her for being with Bucky, for being with the man that you’ve been in love with for years now. But you couldn’t. You really couldn’t. Bucky deserved to be happy. After everything he’s been through, he needs it.

“If anyone asks, we’re at the zoo.” Bucky says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. His signature move when it comes to you.

“So.. You and Nat, huh?” you spoke while passing the lions.

“Yeah.” he chuckled, running his fingers though his hair.

“Are you guys dating? Like is it official?” you question. Stop asking questions you’re just hurting yourself even more.

“Uh.. It’s complicated I guess? We’ve never really talked about it. We like each others company and all but I haven’t asked her to be my girlfriend yet.”

Yet. He fucking said yet. Does that mean you still have a chance? Or is he planning on asking her to be his girlfriend soon?

“Oh.” you nod.

“Yeah. We’re just seeing where this goes for now.” Bucky shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You’ll never have a chance with him. Not next to Natasha. Any sane person would choose Nat over you.

“So what’s the deal with this guy you like? How come you’ve never told me about him?” he changes the subject quickly.

“I didn’t know that I needed to fill you in on the guys that I’m interested in, James.” you respond as the two of you stop by the elephants.

He scoffed. “Well it would be nice to know who my best friend is into, Y/N.”

Best friend. Great. Friend zoned.

Who even came up with the friend zone? All you knew is you wanted to stab the friend zone 56 times and ship it somewhere far far away so that you’d never see it again. Hopefully it’d get lost at sea.

“You didn’t even tell me that you and Nat were a thing so you have no reason to come at me.” you say, keeping your eyes on the mother elephant who was washing her baby.

“We didn’t want anyone to know.” he sighed.

“Well I didn’t want anyone to know either.” you shrug.

“Nat knew.”

“That’s because she’s a nosey little shit.”

“Wanda knew.”

“She’s also a nosey little shit.”

“I just - Why couldn’t you tell me?” you can feel him looking at you.

Because it’s you! The guy I like is you!

“Why couldn’t you tell me about you and Nat?” bitterness laced your voice and Bucky scoffed.

“You’re really gonna bring that up again?”

“Why is it so important that you need to know who I like?”

“Because we’re best friends and as best friends we tell each other who we like.”

Your eyes start to water. “Yeah, best friends.” you look away from Bucky and sigh loudly.

“Baby doll..” he murmured, placing a hand on your shoulder.

At the contact, you shrug him off. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Not even bothering for a response, you start walking towards the bathrooms with Bucky hot on your heels. He tries talking to you, tries grabbing your hand to pull you back but you speed up until you were inside the girls bathroom. You lock yourself in the stall farthest from the door and back up into the wall, covering your mouth as your tears fall from your face.

It sucks knowing that Bucky likes someone else; someone way better than you in every way. How are you supposed to compete with Nat? That’s a game you know you’ll lose. You just wished he felt the same way about you - even just a little bit.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Bucky’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom. You pause, watching as Bucky’s shoes come into view from underneath the stall door. He was inside the girls bathroom.

“Yeah I’m fine, just needed to pee really badly.” you respond, flushing the toilet. You open the door and once Bucky takes a look at you, he brings you into his arms.

“You’re crying.” he frowns.

“It was a really intense and emotional pee.” you mumble into his chest.

Bucky laughs at your response and you can feel his chest vibrate as he does so. Why couldn’t Bucky like you? What did Nat have that you didn’t?

Everything. She has everything and you have nothing.

“Come on, let’s go get some food. I’m starving.” he says, breaking the silence that fell upon the two of you.

“Okay.” you nod, the two of you pulling away from the hug. Bucky examines your face before wiping away your leftover tears. After this day, you have to start distancing yourself. It’s the only way to get over him and save your already broken heart from becoming even more broken every time you see Bucky and Nat.

Bucky pulls you to him and kisses your temple as you both walk out of the restroom. “How does Olive Garden sound?”

You lay your head on his shoulder and sigh. “It sounds perfect.”

A/N: Heyoooo are ya feeling about this part?


@your-puddin @heismyhunter @buchananbarnestrash @live-in-the-now10 @jcb2k16 @plumqueenbucky @thefandomplace @chocolatereignz @blueberry-pens @professionally-crazed @idk-something-amazing-i-guess @almondbuttercup @janetgenea @buckysmetallicstump @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @rvb-and-marvel-shit @ouatalways @winterboobaer @thyotakukimkim @hattnco @millaraysuyai @themercurialmadhatter @miss-jessi29 @snakesgoethe @helloitsgrc @welcometothecasmofsar @aboxinthestars @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @fandommaniacx @hatterripper31 @coffeeismylife28 @bunchofandoms @bobabucky @under-dah-sea @amrita31199 @sebstanthemanxo @mrs-brxghtside @erinvanlyssel @amistillmyself @buckyandsebsinbin @ballerinafairyprincess @spnhybrid @marvel-fanfiction @queen–valeskaxx @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @sophia-wyszkowski @sebstantrashx @rebekastan98 @gingerbatchwife @kenobi-barnes @softwintersoldier @stevette60 @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @damnbuckyishot @melconnor2007 @castiel-barnes @confuzzled-panda @academic-poltergeist @skeletoresinthebasement @faunwaster @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @the-violent-peach @clumsygirl465 @nylalushlifexx

Sorry to the 2 people it didn’t tag!!

Misconceptions- Chapter 1

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Natasha x Bucky, Platonic Tony x reader.

 Warnings: ANGST. Pregnancy, violence, insecurity and self-loathing, Mutant reader (powers similar to Jean from X-men with a little immortality thrown in) also swearing. 

Okay so i did a thing. i don’t know how good this is but it will be multi-chapter constructive criticism is appreciated. This is my first time writing anything so please be gentle! also a huge thank you to @denialanderror whose encouragement finally got me to write something. 

Originally posted by mylastlove-mylastsong

Hindsight. You stared at them from your spot on the couch and all that you could think was hindsight. The blinding aching pain that seemed to spread from your chest into every frayed nerve, neuron and cell of your body roared in agreement. Hindsight is always 20/20, you should not have agreed to his proposition, you should not have let his puppy dog eyes reel you in, you should not have listened to your heart. He twirls a lock of her silky red hair around his finger, tugging slightly to get her attention, she all but purrs at him ‘Barnes’ she warns him, ‘Not here big guy, we at least have to pretend to be interested in movie night’. He pouts at her but relents, snuggling into her hair and breathing her in. You can feel the scream clawing at your throat, doing its best to make him realise just how much he hurt you. How badly he broke you. How seeing them together, the man you love and your best friend, rips into your psyche, searing the image into the back of your eye lids. How beautiful dreams of you and Bucky building a life has been replaced by a gasping moaning Natalia under an equally aroused Bucky. Stupid you think, stupid insipid girl, stupid stupid stupid. You watch as Natalia seemingly melts into his embrace, the content sigh that escapes her and the blindingly beautiful smile Bucky graces her with. It’s enough to make you want to hurl. You swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat. ‘I’m a trained assassin, I’ve had worse, seen worse. I can do this’ you tell yourself. Yet you can feel your body revolting, your mind and heart shattering with every word they exchange, bile burning a hot path up your digestive tract and you bolt to the nearest bathroom, purging yourself of everything you’ve seemingly eaten in the last week. Through the haze of tears and dry heaving you hear banging on the door the concerned voice of Bucky filtering through your foggy mind. 'Doll? Doll are ya alrigh’ in there sweetheart?’ You moan into the toilet bowl. of fucking course. Bucky fucking Barnes could not leave you to throw up in peace, oh no he had to be your saviour. ‘I’m fine James’ you reply, spying your birth control at the end of the basin. Shit. Oh oh shit. ‘You’re puking buckets into the toilet, doll face. I don’t think your fine’ he throws back at you ‘For the love of God Barnes, FUCK OFF’ you scream ‘I don’t need you treating me like a goddamn child Bucky, please just leave me alone’. You’re staring at the birth control, trying to quell the mounting panic, counting off the days since your last period, and connecting the late night fridge raids to the devastating realisation that your 2 months late and your last partner was none other than Bucky Fucking Barnes.


 ‘Kitty cat can we talk?’ Bucky asks as he fidgets with his shirt sleeve. You can tell he’s nervous, you can practically feel it rolling off of him in waves. ‘Of course, sugar. Whadda ya need?’ you don’t see him flinch at the nickname or the grimace that takes over his features. You’re giddy. Excited. Its been six months since you and Bucky started sleeping together, a desperate night born from an exceedingly horrible mission and pent up frustration of not being able to do more, to be more for the people you are supposed to protect. ‘I need ta talk ta ya about us, or whatever this is’ he replies. ‘Finally’ you muse. You’re smiling now, a big toothy grin that wraps around your face and scrunches the corner of your eyes. 'You have my undivided attention, Buck’ you sit across from him, feet tucked underneath you, waiting with bated breath for the words you’ve been dying to hear for what feels like forever. 'I met someone’ he blurts out. ‘I really feel for her ya know? And I wanna try with her’. You feel the blood in your veins turn to ice. ‘I’m sorry kitty, but you knew this was temporary. You’re my closest friend next ta Stevie and I really don’ wanna lose you over a mistake’ Mistake? He thinks you’re a mistake? ‘And Nat an’ I just sorta happened’ he adds. And in that moment you can feel your entire life implode. 

One awkward trip to the doctor, an entire tub of chocolate mint ice cream and a night of dreams involving Bucky’s face on the body of a new born baby screaming for Natasha later and your strolling into the kitchen scanning the room for Tony and deliberately avoiding Bucky’s gaze boring into the back of your head. You haven’t spoken to him since the bathroom incident, actively leaving the room when he walks in, ignoring his frantic calls of your name, ignoring the screams that echo through the tower at night. You’re being petty and unfair, you know, but you can’t listen to his declarations of love for the woman you would literally take a bullet for. Your gaze lands on the billionaire, you take a deep breath to calm your ever-rebellious stomach and mentally call out to him ‘Tony I need your help’ his eyes snap to yours ‘Got an itch that needs scratching, sugar tits?’ he replies waggling his eyebrows and leering playfully. ‘No you perv, I’m serious can you meet me in the lab? In like 10 minutes?’ He sobers instantly ‘Sure (y/n) I’ll be right up’ 

10 minutes and a bitten thumbnail later and you’re staring at a fuming Tony Stark trying to explain just exactly how you managed to get yourself knocked up. ‘You have got to be fucking kidding me (y/n), you’re baby bumping around the tower and you didn’t think to tell me?’ He’s screaming now, an interesting shade of puce on his face “you didn’t even have to use words! you can think shit at me, you’re unbelievable’   ’T I’m so sorry, please, no one can know, I need your help. Please T’ you’re pleading, the sound of your own voice grating your pride. ‘Why?’ he splutters ‘Why can no one know kitty I don’t understand!’ 

 ‘It’s Bucky’s T. I’m pregnant with Bucky’s baby’

Tags: I honestly don’t know what i’m doing, i’m so sorry.

@loricameback @lancefuckrr @mellifluous-melodramas @buckyhoneybarnes

@buckyywiththegoodhair @marvel-ash @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyismyaesthetic @marvel-lucy @denialanderror @avasparks @a-tale-of-twocomics @thatawkwardtinyperson @emilyevanston @lomlbarnes @hannahindie @crownedloki @pitubea1910 @papi-chulo-bucky @lowkeybuckytrash

Loki x Reader: Honeymooners pt 1

Gonna turn this into a multi chapter thing since it’s getting kinda long. The prompt about reader and Loki going undercover as honeymooners at a fancy honeymoon destination that I said I’d write forever ago but didn’t get around to

(So if you’re going under cover for anything, you’d probably want fake names, but I don’t want to make up fake names and I like using Loki’s name so yea…)

A loud ringing from your nightstand roused you from your deep sleep. Your eyes opened instantly, years of training instantly putting you on alert as you recognize a mission briefing call. “I’m here.” You answered.

 "Agent, good, head up to the debriefing room,“ Mariah Hill’s voice came through the speaker, "we have your next assignment.”

You nodded, the last traces of sleep leaving you as you remembered she couldn’t see. “Should I grab my partner?”

“Not yet, he’s getting a debriefing packet but there’s classified information we need to go over with you separately.”

You raised an eyebrow. Loki, god of mischief, currently tasked with aiding SHIELD for glorified community service and thus your partner on most missions, would be debriefed separately? If you were working together, wouldn’t the logical thing be to brief you simultaneously so any ideas the other had or questions could be addressed together? You knew better than to ask questions though, Mariah would just end up repeating her orders. “Understood, I’ll be there in ten.”

“Hurry, your transport leaves in two hours, everything you need is packed, so this debriefing has to be fast.”

You sighed as she hung up, failure to plan on SHIELD’s part always warranted an emergency on your part. Hopefully the travel time would be long so you and Loki could fill each other in on anything that had been missed. Still, something about separate briefings disturbed you. No sense in worrying about it now though, time was ticking and you still needed to shower.

Ten minutes later, you were rushing into the briefing room where Mariah sat at a long high-tech table, a TV screen displaying a mountain lodge behind her. “Recognize it?” Mariah asked, looking up as you entered.

You stared at the screen blankly, searching your memory. The lodge seemed familiar in a dreamlike way, but nothing truly stood out.

“Not sure, your history and all, but some little girls grow up planning their dream weddings and honeymoon vacations.”

You frowned glancing between her and the screen. “I’d never really thought about it, I guess. Marriage might come some day, but I’ve had other things to worry about. Maybe friends planned their’s…” You trailed off, not sure what she was getting at.

Mariah smiled, “don’t worry, it’s not a test, just was wondering if you recognized it. That’s the location of your mission. ‘Lover’s Lodge, Honeymoon Resort’, honeymoon destination of only the wealthiest and luckiest clients. It’s such a destination resort that any who attend have to prove they’ve been married in the last 48 hours. Officially they prefer 24, but occasionally travel gets interrupted and they felt like expanding the inclusion list. Newlyweds plan their weddings around when there’s space available here, very exclusive.”

“I’ll bet.” You crossed your arms, not wholly impressed. Sure it was an interesting place to visit, presumably anyone lucky enough to be an actual guest would enjoy it, but that type of feather in your cap didn’t particularly interest you, not when you’d been told of an impending mission and you were very much single. Sure you pined after a guy, but he was millennia out of your league and definitely didn’t return the feelings. Plus with your busy work schedule, dating really had taken a back seat to your plans.

“So what’s the mission?” You finally prompted.

Mariah blinked, “there’s underground seismic activity. Gamma levels are off the charts. We have reason to believe a magical portal of sorts is open in an underground area. The lodge itself exists in a weird jurisdiction and since the portal is believed to be magic in nature, we need your partner to investigate it.”


She nodded, “he’s uniquely equipped to handle magical enemies and we don’t particularly trust him to do anything solo. The god of lies title and history inspires a great deal of understandable distrust.”

You shrugged, “fair enough. I trust him though.”

“Which makes you uniquely suited to operate as his partner, as well as the other portion of this undercover operation.”

You were starting to get a headache, she seemed to be hinting at something without daring to say the actual nature of what she meant. “So we’re undercover as work staff?”

Mariah smiled thinly, “I was hoping you might’ve guessed… no, the owner needs to be investigated to see if he has any part to play in the operation of this portal and the background checks and period of time it would take to sneak you into the workforce would be far too long.”

“So?” You prompted, mind not quite working.

“I need you to go undercover as guests. Far more freedom to move around this way.”

You swallowed hard, mind reeling. “But guests have to be newlyweds…”

Mariah held up a sheet of paper. Warily, you took it from her, examining it carefully. There in crisp new letters, signed by the state of New York, lay your full name married to Loki Laufeyson. You looked up at her stunned, “what the hell is this?”

“Less than 48 hour old marriage license between you and Loki, thought that was clear. We have wedding pictures as well as several witnesses that can attest the validity of your wedding.”

“You married me to Loki without either of us knowing?” No wonder they didn’t want Loki in attendance, he was sure to be pissed.

“It’s forged, but will fool the admissions there, we snuck a different couple in several weeks ago to make sure. You’re going undercover as a newlywed couple, enjoying all the amenities and making sure to close that portal and if necessary, remove the owner from his position, assuming he is involved. Think of it as a working vacation.”

“With an ornery god, you do know Loki isn’t going to be pleased.”

“It’s a six hour car trip, you’ll have plenty of time to warn him. And it’s by limo, refrigerator and bar fully stock, all expenses paid.”

“What if I refuse?”

“You’ll be out of a job.” Mariah glared at you.

Your eyes flashed, “I’m one of your most loyal and successful agents, one refusal and I’m out on the streets?”

Mariah sighed, “no, you’ll be heavily reprimanded and demoted, pay cut and put on leave, but please, you’re the only one qualified to do this, we need you.”

“You need Loki.”

“He won’t work with anyone else, there’s no punishment we can give him, all of it has to be willing. Even threat of returning to prison on Asgard hardly bothers him. Please, he seems to like you.”

You grit your teeth, that was the bitter crux of it. That Loki considered you an acquaintance of sorts but would never share your feelings. To have to openly act as though you were madly in love with him, only to return to hiding your feelings would kill you. Worse, Loki would either pretend to go along with it and not see how badly it tore you apart each moment, or he would refuse because ultimately he couldn’t even tolerate you as a friend. Nothing of this mission wouldn’t end extremely painfully for you. “Fine, but I’m getting another more expensive vacation after this.”

“It’s practically a vacation already, other than the portal.”

“And an obstinate Loki. That’s the only way I’m agreeing.” You crossed your arms.

“We’ll take it up with Fury, no absolute promises, but I’m sure we can manage something.”


By the time your conversation ended, you were becoming pressed for time. You practically flew out of the room, rushing down the many stairs and out to the waiting limo that Loki sat in, already looking annoyed. His arms were crossed as he glared sullenly out the tinted windows, fingers tapping in time to some unheard beat. “Sorry,” you panted, scrambling in beside him. A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth upon seeing you, “got held up with Mariah.”

Loki nodded, “for a moment, I was worried they might send a replacement for you.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” You winked, settling in as the car lurched forward.

Loki nodded curtly, that smile once more returning. “I take it there’s a reason we were informed separately.”

“Oh yea, and you’re just going to love it.” Sarcasm dripped heavily from your tone and Loki raised his eyebrow curiously. Over the next hour you and Loki shared the various information regarding the specifics of the mission finally coming to the part you dreaded most.

“But all this could just as easily have been told together, why the separation?” Loki mused.

“It’s our cover,” you sighed heavily, lifting up the marriage certificate. Loki frowned, “I suppose I didn’t think we’d spend long there.” You shook your head, “part vacation since it’s a resort and SHIELD is cheap, and we need to investigate the owner as guests. It’s easier than getting us jobs apparently.”

Loki squinted at the paper, “we’re married?” He looked up at you and blinked.

You popped the cork off the bottle you’d been struggling to open, “only technically,” you said taking a long swill. “It’s a forgery but best in the business. Sorry to do that to you, only way they could think of apparently.”

Loki shrugged, “I could think of worse covers.”

You looked at him, mid drink. Slowly you removed the bottle, “really?”

“They could have placed me with a different agent, which would be insufferable.”

You laughed, “yea, I guess.” Still your heart ached, not sure how to vocalize your feelings.

Loki could see the sadness in your eyes but didn’t seem to realize what caused it. “What if we made it into a competition?”

“A competition?” You repeated.

“Whoever appears the better and more in love spouse, the winner.”

You winced internally but you knew you loved a good challenge. Almost unwittingly, you heard yourself answer, “you’re on, I’m going to kick your ass at this.”

“My love, that you could think to hurt me?” Loki placed his hand over his heart in shock.

You scowled, “you didn’t say we started yet!”

“Fair enough agent.”

“What’s the loser have to do?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Loki smirked.

Scoffing, you retorted, “yea right, I’m going to win.”

The car ride passed uneventfully, you and Loki having plenty of the finer details of the mission to discuss and plan. “So it’s in a sort of mountainous area, built on a number of natural hot springs that make for quite the scenic hot tubs.”

Loki pursed his lips, “perhaps we might skip the hot tubs?”

You stared at him blankly, “and sauna? I gather?”

Loki nodded, “I don’t care for heat much.” He trailed off, looking away. You didn’t press him, but he had alluded to not tolerating heat in the past, perhaps this was related.

“It’s built over an inactive volcano, I believe, dig deep enough and you’ll find lava but no worries of eruption in my life time. At least that’s what SHIELD’s experts seem to think.”

“Is that related to the portal?”

“More like a fun fact.” You shrugged, “and a tram that can take guests down to the beach, only an hour’s ride. Sunbathing could be fun.”

Chuckling, Loki reached for his drink, “I’m sure the number of newlyweds enjoying the sunset will be amusing.”

“Probably. The tram doesn’t stop, every half hour all night. Midnight swims on a clothing optional beach.” You swallowed hard, trying not to picture Loki partaking in that.

“They really are encouraging intimacy everywhere, aren’t they?” Loki blinked, studying you.

The look he gave you was so intense, you found yourself turning away, if only to hide your blush. “Guess so. At least no one will check on whether or not guests do, right?” You forced a weak laugh.

Loki nodded thoughtfully, “that would be awfully invasive of them.”

Sleeping with Loki, or rather sleeping with Loki had only briefly crossed your mind. It would be hard to get around not sharing a bed but two mature adults could handle that surely, but if anyone noticed? That would be the final nail in your coffin to fake sex with Loki just to maintain your cover, or real but wasn’t mutually desired.

“Agent?” Loki prompted, pulling your mind back to the present.

“Meeting the owner might be challenging if he’s behind the portal.” You forced yourself to change the subject. “Though I believe he greets each couple personally during their stay, guess we’ll have to meet as many couples as possible to increase our chances of running into him.”

Loki sighed, resting his chin on his fist, “wonderful, socializing with mortals.”


“Oh! Loki!” You paused, “I mean, darling look! We’re here I think!”

Loki straightened up, roused from his bored stupor and followed your pointing finger out the window. For the past half hour, the limo had been winding its way slowly upwards through a forested mountainside and it had at long last shown signs of nearing a massive resort. The picture Mariah had shown you really didn’t do the place justice for its size and splendor, anyone fortunate enough to visit would definitely have to pay a small fortune.

Loki chuckled at your pet name for him, “So we have, congratulations on our first day of marriage.”

You reached for your phone and opened it, noticing a barrage of pictures featuring you and Loki photoshopped into a number of wedding poses. It had been a small, private affair apparently, contrasting notably with the amount that would go towards the honeymoon but it was evidently about the two of you and no one else.

Loki leaned against you, staring down at the pictures. You could feel your cheeks heating in a blush at the close proximity, you had been this close before and managed to hide your feelings, why was it suddenly different? You silently admonished yourself.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Loki murmured, tilting his head to the side. His long hair brushed against your cheek and you fought back a shiver. “Somehow, I think the dress would look better on the actual you, not this model they chose.”

You furrowed your brows, surprised by the sincerity of the compliment. Opening your mouth, you looked up to ask him if he was acting or meant it but Loki’s attention was already back to the sprawling grounds of the resort. Your mouth fell shut and you stayed quiet.

The limo finally rolled to a stop, the door opening as the two of you scrambled out. Loki left first, turning around and offering you his hand to help you, placing a gentle kiss on it before allowing you to straighten up completely out of the car.

You closed your eyes, praying silently for patience, strength to make it through this mission, then slowly opened them and beamed at Loki. The flirtatious giggle came easy to you as you leaned forward and pecked his cheek. Loki stiffened for a moment, before sinking into your touch as though it were the most natural thing ever.

“Do you have the marriage license, love?”

“Right here, sweetie.” You giggled again, waving it for him.

Loki pursed his lips, eyes darkening, clearly not amused by the pet name. If you were going to suffer, dying for this to be real, you might as well punish Loki with cute names. A hotelier approached as the two of you stood there, no time to turn back now.

Couldn’t hate you if I tried

I combined two prompts for this:

(…)  one of the guys mentions that someone saw the Noora kiss and Sana is there in the room doing something when they say this (…)

(…)  sana getting angry about the kiss …  a proper conversation about it with yousef (…)


Helping the boys with their YouTube videos has become a weekly thing for Sana. They always ask her to be behind the camera to ask them stuff, be the referee in a game or whatever else they need in that moment. She agrees to help most of the times. Sana likes helping where she can and that a certain boy she has been spending a lot of time with lately is there too doesn’t hurt.

It has become so normal for Sana to be there when they are filming that they sometimes lose every filter they had around her before, which honestly was never too much.

That’s how Sana finds herself looking through the pictures the boys had printed out for her to randomly give those to them for a game they made up and hearing something that makes her gut sink.

“Dude, I heard that you had a bit more fun than we did at the karaoke party a few weeks ago. Kissing that cute blonde girl. What’s her name? Noora.”, Adam mentions casually.

He’s almost lying on the couch; Mikael next to him, leaning on Adam’s propped up knees. Elias and Yousef are sitting on the ground and Mutta on the armrest of the couch. 

Sana’s head snaps up, she feels herself getting overwhelmed for a second. Now she knows what really happened that day but in that moment she was so hurt and felt so stupid to have let herself fall for a guy that kissed one of her best friends. All the hurt comes crashing down on her again. 

Yousef’s head immediately snaps into Sana’s direction and she quickly looks down on the pictures again. Yousef wonders if she heard that. He did not have the guts to tell her about it yet but he planned on doing it. She had to know, he didn’t want to keep anything from her but this was not how he imagined telling her. 

He gulps uncomfortably and shifts in his seat. The four other boys all look at him, expecting an answer. Mostly Elias. Didn’t Yousef have a crush on his sister? Didn’t his sister have a crush on him?

Elias looks behind him and sees Sana flipping through the pictures, looking like she doesn’t listen.

“What? Who said that?”, Yousef manages to say. It’s all he can say because he’s panicking. 

Adam just shrugs. “A friend.”

“You have other friends than us?”, Mutta says laughingly, sensing the tension in Yousef’s voice and trying to stay clear of whatever Adam is talking about. 

Adam rolls his eyes and laughs but all eyes end up on Yousef again.

Elias, who is confused why he didn’t know about this sooner, being Yousef’s best friend and all, gets annoyed. He was so sure Yousef had a thing for his sister and he accepted that because he doesn’t know anyone who’d be better to his sister than Yousef but what is this supposed to mean? Yousef didn’t say it wasn’t true.

While Yousef gets more nervous, so does Sana. She is still standing behind the camera which is not rolling yet but now has her phone in her hand to act like she is not listening. 

Elias can’t stop himself from looking at his sister once more. He was sure that these two had feelings for each other. So sure that he might have made them go to the store together a few times when he ‘didn’t feel like going himself’.

“So you’re with Noora now?”, Elias asks, keeping his voice steady.

Mutta, who was the one trying to make this topic go away before, starts talking without thinking: “I thought you like…”, and gets kicked by Mikael. 

He looks at Mikael with a confused look and only understands what he means when Mikael widens his eyes and subtly nods towards Yousef and then at Sana, hoping Mutta understand.

“No, no, no. I’m not .. not with Noora. Not at all.”, Yousef stammers out. Why is this happening with Sana in the room? He doesn’t dare to look back at her. She probably hates him now. He doesn’t want her to hate him.

Elias tilts his head and after figuring out that Sana is only acting like she is not listening and Yousef freaking out more than usual with these kind of topics, understands what’s going on. Or at least thinks he does. Doesn’t keep him from using this opportunity, though.

“I didn’t think you are one to casually hook up with people.”, Elias says, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows.

This intrigues Sana and she looks up from her phone. Yousef is sitting with his back to Sana but she can see him tense up, his back straightening.

He shakes his head furiously. His heart racing with panic. Now he can’t control himself and looks towards Sana.

“No, no. I did not. That’s not how it was. She just jumped on me. I don’t… I feel..”

Yousef rambles, stumbling over his words. 
Adam and Mikael share a knowing look. They knew that he liked Sana so that’s why they were so surprised to hear he had made out with Noora at that party. Well, they were surprised that he kissed anyone in the middle of the karaoke bar, because that’s not how he is. And seeing him freak out this much about that kiss, trying to explain himself and looking over to Sana guilty … it explains it.  They understand what happened and apparently so did Elias who now just likes torturing Yousef.

“So you’re not with Noora?”, Elias asks with a very distinct tone. He’s challenging Yousef.

At this Sana smiles to herself. She knows he isn’t. She read those texts he sent to Noora. Even though Sana thinks it’s ridiculous that Yousef was so nervous about the possibility of Sana not liking him while she was freaking out about him being with Noora, she can’t deny that she enjoyed reading what he texted Noora about his feelings for Sana.

And the time Sana spent with Yousef in the past days makes Sana feel sure that he is not with someone else.

“Of course not!”, Yousef almost shouts.

Mutta jumps in his seat at Yousef’s voice getting loud out of nowhere.

“I’m with someone else… no, I’m not. I am kind of… it’s…. I’m not with Noora!”, Yousef finally calls out.

The four other boys share a look and all of them look at Sana. When she notices them looking at her she quickly looks down on her phone and acts like she’s typing.

The boys don’t stop looking at her, while Yousef just looks down on his hands trying to collect himself. He doesn’t like this. Sana should not think badly of him. He knows he messed up. He should have never let it happen. 

“Just call me when you’re actually filming.”, Sana says when she can’t bear the looks anymore. She puts down the pictures and quickly walks out of the room and then out of the flat. 

She needs air. 

Sana knows that Noora was hurt that day. Sana also knows that Noora was the one to kiss Yousef and she knows that it didn’t mean anything to either of them. 

Then why do all these feelings of hurt and disappointment rise in her chest again? 

She tries to take deep breaths. Getting overwhelmed like on that dreadful day won’t do any good now. Her relationship with Yousef … however it might be defined… is going great. That’s all that matters. 

Walking up and down her backyard doesn’t help making the uneasy feeling go away so she goes to sit on the swing.

“Can I join you?”, Sana hears. She had been staring at the ground, trying to forget what she was thinking about. Didn’t work. Especially now that he is standing in front of her.

Sana looks up and musters up a small smile. “Of course.”

Yousef sits down on the swing next to her. A few moments they just swing back and forth a bit. Sana presses her lips together and hopes he doesn’t start talking about the thing. She really doesn’t need that right now.

Of course, she is wrong. He wouldn’t have come out here looking so guilty, not being able to look her in the eyes, if he didn’t want to talk about that. 

“Okay, I don’t know how to start this. So I’m just going to start and hope you don’t hate me too much.”, Yousef says but Sana still doesn’t look at him. “I messed up. And I know I should have told you sooner and I get it if you’re mad, you have the right to be. But I am really sorry. I regretted it as soon as it happened.”

Still not looking up at him, swinging pushing herself back and forth with her feet, Sana answers: “I knew already. Before today. Don’t worry about it.”

Sana just wants this topic to be over. She has spent a lot of time getting over it. When it happened Yousef was not with Sana, technically he still is not. When it  happened they had only spend little time together and he was free to do whatever he wanted to with whoever he wanted. At least that’s what Sana had told herself.

Yousef’s head snaps towards Sana, his eyes wide and a very confused face on his face. “How? Why didn’t you say anything then? I just … ”

Sana sighs. “Adam’s friend saw you, might not have been the only one, don’t you think.”

“Oh my god, Sana. I’m so sorry. I …”

Now Sana snaps. “Yousef, it’s fine. Let it be.” She really doesn’t want to talk about this.

Yousef can clearly hear the annoyance in her voice and she seems angry at him. No wonder, Yousef thinks. She has every right to. He messed up. Big time.

“Sana, I really am sorry.”, Yousef almost whispers but it moves something in Sana. 

Finally she looks at him but not with that cute look Yousef usually receives from her. She looks at him with fire in her eyes while simultaneously looking hurt. 

“Then why did you do it?”, Sana exclaims louder than she intended to but she could not control it then and there. 

He should have left it. She got over it. She had worked to get over it. He should have just let her be. 

After her outburst Sana is too embarrassed to look at him. Shouting at him is not the way to go.

From the corner of her eye Sana sees Yousef stand up from the swing. Great, he’ll leave her alone. At the same time she feels disappointed that he leaves without giving her an answer. She shuts her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Calm down, she tells herself, it’s all fine.

“Sana.”, she hears the all too familiar voice that makes her look up.

Yousef is crouching in front of her, waiting for her to look at him. 

Sana notices how overwhelmed and nervous he looks but she doesn’t say anything. She just bites on her lip and waits.

“Will you listen to me if I tell you now? If you don’t want to and want me to go I’ll do that. It’s your call.”

She doesn’t think about it. The words leave her mouth quickly. “Tell me.”

Yousef takes a deep breath and thinks. How does he communicate the mess that was in his head that day? He just starts talking, in the hope that Sana will not hate him too much after he is done.

“Okay. That day at the karaoke bar … I don’t even know how it happened. I was so excited to come there because Elias had told me that you specially asked for me to come. I was over the moon. Especially after I saw that you deleted me as a friend from Facebook and all the hot and cold behaviour. And I’m in no way saying you are to blame for anything, you’re not. I did what I did and I shouldn’t have and I messed up big time.”, he gets side-tracked. “But when we got there and the first thing I saw was Even standing on that stage and singing. I thought the only reason why you wanted me there was for me and the boys to see Even again. After I told you about what happened and how it affected me, not long before. I was just so confused. I thought you didn’t like me the way I like you and on top of that your friend, Even’s boyfriend, punched Mikael and I got overwhelmed. So when Noora looked so upset I stopped to ask what happened. She is your friend, after all. And when … she kissed me I .. I don’t know. I felt like I didn’t have anything, anyone to lose because you didn’t like me anyway. And I know it doesn’t make it better but as soon as I realized what was really happening I stopped it, I ran off. And I really get it if you hate me now. If you don’t want to .. continue whatever we have.”

Looking at Sana while trying to explain is impossible to Yousef. All that guilt comes crashing down on him again. While spending time with Sana so much he completely forgot about that. Now, when he sees Sana’s reaction he feels even worse than right after.

Yousef finally gathers the strength to look at Sana. He doesn’t want to see her disappointed look. His eyes meet hers and he forgets how to breathe. She doesn’t reveal anything of what she thinks or feels with her look but there is something that makes Yousef take a sharp breath.

“I don’t hate you, Yousef.” Sana’s eyes soften just a little. “I couldn’t if I tried to.”, she whispers. 

Yousef hears that. His eyes widen and he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Sana not hating him is all he needed to know now. Everything else can be dealt with. 

“Thank you.”, Yousef blurts out.

Sana furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “For what?”

“For not hating me.”, Yousef answers.

Sana can’t believe him. He really makes her laugh now. She rolls her eyes at him but can’t stop laughing. She didn’t realize it but that’s what she needed now: laughing.

Yousef joins her; it’s impossible not to laugh when Sana does.

“Hey!”, both of them hear being shouted and turn to the source of the voice.

Elias, Adam, Mutta and Mikael are at the window, looking down at Sana and Yousef. They are lined up like you’d see it in a movie. Elias at the edge of the windowsill, on the far left. Adam leans on Elias’ back and trying to look past him. Mikael tries to get a look from under Adam’s arm because Adam takes more space than he needs. Mutta is taller than all of them so he just leans over their heads but leans so far out the window that he might fall.

“Please tell me you’re not proposing right now. It’s a bit early.”, Elias shouts from the window.

Yousef is still crouching in front of Sana but had to rest one knee on the ground after being in that position for so long. Looking down at himself, Yousef realizes what Elias means and stands up. One day, but not today.

“Come back inside. We need to film!”, Adam shouts. “And Sana, I need your science knowledge to back me up here.”

Sana stands up and falls into step next to Yousef. She hears the boys argue inside.

“You’re wrong!”, Sana hears Mikael shout.

“I’m right! Sana will back me up on this!”, Adam shouts and Sana doesn’t need to see them to know what this situation looks like.

No matter what happens she has these guys that are always at her home to cheer her up.

Sort of happy story? Maybe? I don't know what to consider it.

So my life has been on a steady spiral downward. Family health scares, dog needing minor surgery (tooth pulled, but he’s also 10 ½ and has a heart murmur so it’s honestly terrifying to me), overall personal crap, etc., and on top of all of that, on Thursday evening, I found out that my grandmother most likely has cancer- they found something in her liver but it wasn’t liver cancer and they’re pretty sure it’s from somewhere else that made it to the liver and I have no idea how to describe it. But the fact that it’s most likely has just seriously fucked me up, as we’re really close and I lost my paternal grandmother to lung cancer in October 2015.

Needless to say, I haven’t been “all there.” I haven’t been sleeping or eating well, I’ve been shaky, and I’ve been making myself hyper focus on trying to not screw up at work because the idea of being fired terrifies me more than death. But guess who screwed up anyway? 

I do craft programs through work, and I also am allowed to run other ones, should I get permission to do so. Which I did. Things were all planned out with our guest speaker. Awesome. Went ahead and made a flyer, printed a few copies out, posted them, thought all was fine and dandy. Only I forgot to send the flyer to my boss for approval for the first time ever and I got an email about it and stupid stupid stupid me immediately took it as “oh god I fucked up so badly” and sent an apology email offering to take the flyers down and by the time I got into work, I was so worked up over it and went straight to my boss apologizing before I was even clocked in. Told her I hadn’t been thinking straight lately and swore up and down that I’d never do it again, which kind of got her asking if everything was okay because “you don’t look so well” and there were no problems and she didn’t see why I’d gotten all nervous about it.

I just told her that on top of a bunch of personal matters, I found out just before the weekend that my grandmother most likely has cancer and she just. She hugged me and was so nice about it and said she’d keep us in her prayers and I like, started tearing up because I didn’t know that people in a work environment (aside from my boss in my old library job, but I’ve had quite a few retail hells in between) could actually be that nice and actually care about their employees. I’m so used to people treating me like crap that this really got to me and I didn’t know how to handle it so I just thanked her and went up into the break room and cried like the stupid dumb moron I am. 

So I guess happy-ish thing? I don’t know what to consider it but holy crap I’m not used to people actually being nice like that. 

powerovernothing  asked:

First off, let me tell you, your fan fiction literally made my entire night and I just have it tucked away on my computer to reread because it was written SO DAMN WELL and IN CHARACTER AND OH MAN. I LOVED IT SO MUCH. YONDU'S WORRY WAS SO GOOD! UGH. But if you're still wanting prompts. How about -- Peter and Yondu get into a massive fight and they say things they don't mean, and they have to deal with the messy emotions afterward; as well as the awkward attempts to fix it.

Hey-o! Got that second one coming right up! :P


He’s 16 when he tells Yondu that he hates him. Of course, he hasn’t ever exactly been ‘fond’ of the centurian, but he’d never said that he hated him outright until now.

The crew had just come back from an on-world raid, where Peter decided to disobey a direct order, and in doing so, botched the whole operation, but ended up saving Yondu’s life in the process. They got into a fight about it pretty badly when they docked for the night to check into a hotel.

“That was COMPLETELY unnecessary, Quill! You damned near got every one of us killed out there! The hell were you thinking, tryin'a cut the trip wire!?” Yondu cinched the ties around Peter’s bedroll a bit too tightly, absolutely fuming. By this point he was too angry to weave around the subject of their heist to any listening ears.

“I only tried to cut it because I KNEW you wouldn’t have made the jump! You would ended up pulling it yourself and getting hurt or worse if I hadn’t!” Peter raged in retaliation.

A few remaining crew members grabbing their supplies listened in on the fight for a moment, but then quickly moved on, lest they inquire the captain’s wrath. The only ones left in the docking hangar were Peter and Yondu.

“Boy, you need to learn to listen when you’re told not to do something that serious! Because out there, in the real world, there ain’t second tries, and when YOU screw somethin’ up, it’s YOUR FAULT.” Yondu threw Peter’s bedroll at him and stomped off towards the bunks of the ship.

“Where are you going??” He shouted in exasperation at the centurian. Their argument was far from over.


It was completely in the heat of the moment, but even then, Yondu realized he shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t mean it. Quill was like a son to him. He’d saved him by keeping him, against orders. But he couldn’t turn around to face the young man. Not now.

He couldn’t see it, but he could just..feel Peter’s frustration.

“I..-” The boy huffed out. He sounded like he was crying. Or trying to hide it.

“I hate you.” And all it took were three words to wound Yondu as deeply as his words had struck the boy.

He didn’t turn around until he heard the teenager’s footfalls exit the craft.

All he could get out was a whisper.

“The hell have you done, Udonta..”


It was late in the night when Kraglin came back to the ship. Yondu had just finally drifted off when the man came strolling into his room, taking a seat in the chair in the room’s opposite corner.

“Why you here? You forget somethin’?

“Just checking on ya, Cap'n. Sounds like you and Pete got into it pretty bad earlier.”

Yondu sighed and nodded sullenly, sitting up in the bed. He winced when he moved his bruised shoulder the wrong way.

“Kid’s pretty upset. He cried until he passed out. Must’ve been serious.”

“Said some things I regret, Krag.”

Kraglin nodded, listening at his captain spoke.

“Things like that happen, Cap'n. We’ve all done it.”

Yondu struggled with his next words, reliving the moment they were said in painful detail.

“I was just..I was so damned angry..I just couldn’t look at ‘im. He-..He said he hated me.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it none. He seemed like he was feelin’ pretty bad about it.” Kraglin rose from his seat and started towards the door.

“Kraglin, you think I messed it up with the kid? I don’t..I’m not exactly…father figure material.”

Kraglin paused, unsure of how to reassure his captain for a moment. But then he smiled, and spoke one last time as he walked out the door.

“Just talk to him in the morning. It’ll work out.”

Alone again, and now fully awake, Yondu was left to ponder his thoughts once more. Maybe think of a good apology while he was at it.


He had the chance to make use of the apology he’d come up with at breakfast the next morning.

Peter sat by himself when they all went back to the ship to eat. He laid over the edge of the table, his bowl completely forgotten in front of him, even though it was full.

Yondu sat with some of his fellow Ravagers to eat, and then went and joined Quill after he’d cleared his dishes.

“What’s eatin’ ya, kid?” The Ravager king asked, his tone of voice gentle. Peter had been avoiding him all morning.

“Not the crew..yet.” The boy replied somberly, not even looking up.

“Hey, listen. I didn’t mean none of them things I said yesterday. I was angry, and scared..and stupid.”

Peter gave a short glance in Yondu’s direction.

“I was scared cuz I was afraid we were gonna get hurt when that charge went off from the trip wire. I was afraid you’d get yourself hurt. You were right there when it blew.”

Peter finally sat up and Yondu reached to put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, boy.”

Peter sat silently a moment, taking a deep breath before he answered.

“I don’t..I didn’t mean..I don’t hate you. I’m sorry I said I did.”

“I know. I know. It’s ok, Quill.”

Resistance (m)

Word count: 4,973

Warning: Hoseok smut

“Three, two, one… go!”

Your feet push into the soft ground, making your body move forward.

“Until the milestone, girls!” Someone already catches up to you, which you can’t make up for anymore by quickening your pace. You stay behind, with burning lungs, exhaustion cutting through your legs - it’s only been mere seconds and you’re already giving up physically.

The only thing that keeps you going is the fact that everyone else is still far behind you, huffing just as loudly as you - everyone except for one person. This loss gets you furious, despite him having to be in front.

He just wants to bring you down.

“Faster, number two!” Hoseok shouts, turning around at a steady pace, simply to give you an unsatisfied glare. Not even running backwards holds him back from creating a bigger distance between you two.

That nickname he just loves to bring up.

Keep reading

Downton Rewatch (Season 1): part ii

- oh my gOD Bates get a hold of yourself. so william comes barreling through the door and spills Thomas’ tea all over him and thomas gets mad. and says something snotty. wow. call the constable, what an effing crime. like. now thomas has tea all over his clothes so he’s either got to go and change (which i’m sure he has just masses of other clothes no problem right) or wait for it to dry, during which time if Mr. Carson catches him he’s going to get a verbal thrashing. DO EITHER OF THOSE OPTIONS SOUND APPEALING. like I am the first to admit that thomas is the most…JUST THE MOST. but don’t treat him like he just ripped the head off of a baby lamb for having a reaction jesus BACK OFF BATES

- oh good lord when Daisy says, “i’d do anything for you” and Thomas glows - ACTUALLY GLOWS - with something like pride and wonder and genuine surprise. i mean in the next second his face shifts and he does this villainous little smirk sure yeah because that’s a weapon, that’s something to defend yourself with if you need it, something to use against other people duh. (honestly i don’t know how anyone who isn’t a slytherin makes sense of the world but okay) but in that moment before, there was bare vulnerability and it was fucking beautiful. shit. i’m gonna make a shitty gif of it because you guys have got to see this shit.

THOMAS. (90% of my live action commentary watching this show is just me yelling out in a pained and strangled voice THUHMASSS).

-this is a real live actual conversation that happens.

OB: [plotting against Bates} What we need to do is to make him a suspect when something’s really been stolen.

Thomas: How do we know anything’s been stolen?

OB: Because you stole it, you noodle.

You are both noodles, and this is a terrible idea.

- side note: how fucking spot on is it that when there are scenes happening in Carson’s office or the servants hall you can hear Mrs. Patmore and Daisy bickering in the background. I mean. I take this show to task for a lot but wow that is some tight storytelling.

- man do i miss the good ole days of Thomas and OB plotting and smoking in the courtyard. iconic.

- there is not much i find more delightful than Thomas saying “sod ‘em.” why can’t he have been given more dirty lines please…why is RJC’s ridiculous accent so fucking soothing. SEE HOW SOOTHED I AM. i am currently just a skin bag of loose bones and honey.

- Daisy and Mrs. Patmore are fuking underappreciated. Daisy misunderstanding Mrs. Patmore and thinking she’s supposed to poison the food while Mrs. P is away for eye surgery is one of the best and most subtle moments of comedic genius in television history.

- why is watching Thomas putting food in his mouth…so erotic. i did not ask for this. i was perfectly happy not knowing this about myself.

- okay so look. i am the first (okay maybe not the first) to admit that Thomas says and does some mean shit. he’s not perfect! some days…he is so overwhelmingly far from perfect that hypothetically you have to go have a good long talk with yourself in the bathroom mirror about why the eff it’s one o clock in the morning and you are lulling yourself to sleep with VIVID fantasies of putting a grown man in the bathtub, washing the pomade out of his hair, and seeing what kinds of noises he makes when you skritch the back of his head. hypothetically. i can only imagine that’s what it would be like because none of this is personal experience. but also let’s not pretend that i won’t defend Thomas to the everloving end. yes, it is not his finest moment to make light of a woman losing her pregnancy or a young person losing their mother, BUT for fuck’s sake why does no one seem to have a problem with people putting their hands on Thomas in violence, holy shit.

- aghhhhh the fact that Thomas holds himself so still, head so high and proud when he’s got bruises on his face. It is the Don’t Fucking Touch Me Stillness, cousin to his Blank Look of Shame, and you all know how i feel about that.

- hahahahahhah ohhhhhhh well fuck me i guess branson/sybil/gwen was the ot3 i didn’t even know i wanted. 


anonymous asked:

Ok just. Imagine this: UT/US/UF/SF Sans Crush is drunk and giggling at pretty much everything and the boys gotta make sure their crush don't get sick. Suddenly, Crush leans over and just. S h o v e s. Their entire HAND. In the Sans' eye socket. Purely out of unrestrained, drunken curiosity. Please I need to know the skells reaction, for science.

* I can actually… see myself doing this….

I think you will like this fic, especially Chapter 7 and several others


I take his reaction in that fic to be my headcanon. [not my writing all credit to poubelle_squelette]
“Yeah yeah,” you hiccupped, “give me. Give me the I told you so speech later. I just. Let me. Okay???” you said, pushing your fingers deeper into the socket. How far did these eyes go anyway? Your fingers started tingling. “Hahaha, your eyes feel funny.”
Sans grabbed your wrists. “eye see what you’re doin there pal, but iris you’d stop.”


He jerks back immediately, sputtering and indignant. “wh-wha the hell?” He’d yell, rubbing at the violated eye. He’d take away their drink, downing it himself, “alright, alright tha’s nuf for ya. time t’getcha home.”
Luckily, (or unluckily for Sans) Mett was taking a selfie right at that moment and managed to get the precious moment on camera. He posts it and it immediately becomes a meme. 

It’s called ‘I’m Not Crying There’s Just _____ In My Eye’ where the blank is the subject in question. It can be anything, ranging from depression to homework to Donald Trump. The topic is badly photoshopped onto the crush’s face. This is it. This is their legacy.


He squeaks and bats their hand away, holding the side of his skull. Yikes that felt weird. He takes away their drink, forces them to drink water and brings them home, all the while chiding them about manners, physical boundaries and social etiquette for skeletons. See? This is why he hates alcohol. It makes people do weird things.


He screeches like a pterodactyl and slaps their entire arm away. “OKAY NO MORE DRINKS FOR YOU!” He says, throwing money onto the bar before grabbing them by the wrist and dragging them out of the establishment. Later, “AT LEAST I DIDN’T STICK MY HAND IN YOUR EYE” becomes a valid point of any argument.

Bonus SF!Pap because I kept thinking about it and I can’t stop laughing

/looks into the camera like he’s on The Office
“This is fine.” He says, downing a shot.

anonymous asked:

Can i ask you at what time will start the companion fic? You said in a answer that it would start at their meeting (Yuuri and Viktor's) so according to chapter 12, it might be when he heard Yuuri crying? (Don't worry if you don't want to answer to avoid spoilering us)

May I ask when you’re planning to make the companion fic available after Yuuri’s POV fic ends? It’s ok if you don’t know yet!

Honestly not to put pressure on you or anything but I was just wondering how long a break you’re going to have between posting the last chapter of UMFB and the first of Viktors POV?

When do you think you’ll start doing the next part of the series and when about we’ll get it? Also i really like the way you ended it like it broke my heart but i have faith in a happy ending and you write the characters so well i just love it

is the companion fic going to begin in the same place chronologically as the original? like will it delve into the backstory as much as umfb&mha? thank you!!!

I’m really hyped for the comPAINion™ fic but I kinda feel bad because I want to see the Suffering™ so badly. Buuuuut I’m also really curious in which point in the timeline will the fic start?

Heyo! Love your fic, gosh darn it is so good :). The angst in the last chapter? Oh my god I died it was great! Anyway, I’m asking when the companion fic will start? Like not the day you will post it but when in the timeline? Will it be before Viktor meets Yuri? After?

Ok so I’m just going to answer these all together for convenience. 

The companion fics starting point is a secret and so is it’s end point. All I’ll say about the end is it ends later than umfb and you will get a glimpse into the future. 

As for when it will start being posted, hopefully it will be posted two weeks after the last chapter of umfb like a regular chapter. However, burning out is a very real problem for writers and considering I’ve written a book longer than the lord of the rings books in three months I need to be vary wary of it. So while two weeks after is the plan, a break may been needed


Pairing: John Laurens x fem!reader

Prompt: 37, 38, 39, 41
37: don’t fucking touch me!
38: don’t say that. not now.
39: don’t say you love me.
41: don’t ever do that again.

Warnings: angsty?? (kinda), swearing, fighting, injury, blood, hospitals, talking about death, talking about sex

“You’re not fucking listening to me, John!”
You yelled at your boyfriend.

After some on and off dating, you’d decided to take your relationship seriously.

Honestly, you weren’t sure anymore if that had been the best idea. You fought almost constantly, you guys never slept in the same bed, and most nights ended in you crying, alone in a mostly empty bed.

Tonight’s fight was nothing new, but you could tell it was going to get heated VERY quickly unless one of you apologized, which you weren’t about to do.

Usually, your fights started over something stupid, like what the other had done wrong. Tonight was no different.

John had left the front door unlocked and opened, and you’d been scared shitless to come home and find the door slightly ajar.

“Anyone could’ve come in John!”

“Yeah, and no one did! What’s the deal with you! It was a simple mistake!”

“Well, your mistakes seem to happening much more often now!”

“Yeah, well the only major mistake I ever made was choosing to date you.”

You froze, and looked straight at John. So that’s all you were. You had been right. All you were to John Laurens was another mistake.

John’s face immediately softened.


“No. Don’t.”

He reached out to you, but you whipped your arm away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

He held his hands up.

“Okay, okay.”

You shook your head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t be here. I’ve got to go.”

“Y/N… I’m sorry. I love you-”

You glanced up from the doorway.

“Don’t say you love me. You don’t mean it. Because according to you, I’m the biggest mistake in your life.”

You stormed out the door, realizing you’d forgotten your keys to your car.

“I’m not going back in there.”

So you made your way past the suburban houses and into the inner city. It was January, and you’d forgotten your coat. The cold New York air chilled through your sweatshirt, which you realized in sadness was John’s.

You shivered, and walked more quickly so that you could get somewhere, anywhere. Your friends all lived too far to walk, so you just walked aimlessly around New York, in hopes that your phone would light up with a text from John saying he’d be coming to get you.

But none came.

As you crossed the street, you wished and hoped that there was some sort of sign that would show that John truly did still love you.

But all that met you was a black void.


Your eyes were closed, but you could see a soft glow past your eyelids.
There were several loud beeping sounds, and you were cold.
You struggled to open your eyes, and when you did you immediately squeezed them shut again. The light was harsher, and it hurt your eyes.
Eventually, you were able to open your eyes without squinting too much. That’s when you realized that John Laurens was sitting in a chair next to your bed, holding your hand as he dozed off.
Your body hurt badly, and as you looked around the room you could see why.
You were hooked up to several machines, which were injecting all sorts of who knows what into your blood stream.
Your leg was propped up and casted, which meant your leg was broken, as was one of your arms. Your head had a large bandage, your lip was busted and your eye was swollen almost shut.
You hissed in pain as you tried to move your broken arm toward the cup of water next to you on the table.
You cried out after you had picked up the cup and then promptly dropping it on your stomach, which must’ve housed a couple broken ribs.
Your cry made John stir, and he opened one eye. When he saw you sitting up, he jumped up.
“Y/N! Oh my god… thank the lord.”
He cried, and you grasped his hand.
“John… what happened to me?”
He wiped away a tear, and began to tell the story.

John’s POV

After about 20 minutes of Y/N not returning, I decided to take my car and drive around to find her.

I’d been driving for about 15 minutes when I got a call from Y/N.

“Hey, where are you. I’m in my car looking-”

“Excuse me, are you John Laurens?”

That was definitely not Y/N’s voice.

“Yes. Who is this? Where’s Y/N?”

“Y/N has been involved in a serious accident, and is being treated by medical emergencies right now.”


“How serious? Will she be okay? Oh my god this is all my fault…”

My questions didn’t get answered because there were several shouts over the line.

“Quick I need 2 pints of A+ blood stat!”
“We need the defibrillator! Quickly!”
“Start CPR!”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m going to have to leave you. She’s going to be escorted to the New York Central Hospital immediately.”

The line went dead, and I sat in disbelief.

Then, I came to my senses, and began speeding to the hospital. I didn’t see any emergency lights on the way, which must’ve meant that the accident was farther back than where I’d started.

Suddenly, red and blue flashing lights and emergency sirens blared.

I pulled over, and an ambulance rushed past, heading to the hospital. I gassed it, and began speeding after the ambulance.

I got out just as they were unloading Y/N from the back of the vehicle.

Her face was barely recognizable. There were cuts and bruises forming, and a huge gash on her forehead. Her right arm was twisted and bent, and her left leg was bent so badly her bone nearly jutted out of her skin.

I choked on my sob as they rushed her through the doors of the hospital, yelling codes and emergency information.

All I could do was watch as my girlfriend almost died from a reckless driver who had been drinking.

She’d been rushed into immediate surgery to fix her collapsed lung. She’d even “died” a couple times, they had to restart her heart.

That’s what broke me. That my girlfriend had died, and that she could’ve died thinking that I didn’t love her. That’s how you break someone.


I was shaking after John finished.
I’d almost died with John hating me and thinking I was a mistake.

I started crying, and John quietly soothed me.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“John, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault-”

“Shh, don’t say that. Not now. Nothing is your fault.”

He gently took my face in his hands and kissed me sweetly.

Too say I melted would be an understatement. When he pulled back, I kissed his cheek and leaned against him.

“Hey John.”


“Do me a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t kiss me like that ever again, or at least while I have an injured body. I don’t think the doctors will let me have sex with you until I’m able to actually move this leg.”

anonymous asked:

Hiya if u r taking prompts can u pls consider "our grandfathers were mortal enemies during high school and they found out we go to the same school and keep trying to get us to sabotage each other and you’re super into it but like… i kind of have a huge crush on you so i’m having a hard time??” au. It's fine if u don't want to. Thank u. Ur writing is lovely btw.

“—Your international relations papers are in on Friday, and I swear if any of you email me with lame excuses,” Finstock pauses, runs a finger across his throat, “There will be consequences. It’s the first day back, Greenberg, there’s no reason any of you can have for not having done the appropriate research over the summer. You’ve had two months to prepare for this. I mean it, essays in, or there will be no detention too long for you. Now, get out of here.”

Derek squirms as much as he can in his seat, feels his hands begin to sweat, looks up at the ceiling cursing Stiles Stilinski’s name.

“Hale!” Finstock stalks over to him, “I dismissed your class; do you find yourself to be of so much importance you can ignore direct instructions from your teachers?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why are you continuing to sit here?” Finstock rests his hands on Derek’s desk, leans in to glare at him, “I know being seniors leads you all to believe you’re already god’s gift to society, but newsflash, kid, you’re eighteen years old; you’ve barely started growing facial hair—”

“Actually, Coach—”

“Outside of making my life extremely,” Finstock leans closer, coffee stale breath making Derek wince, “Extremely difficult, have you ever even had a real job?”

“No, sir, but—”

“Then what is it you’re still doing, here—defying my direct order—if it isn’t because you’ve gone out and made a start at being useful to society by giving back, paying taxes, working, for a living and looking to confess it to me? That you’re finally letting me have some peace without you in my classes?”

Derek scowls up at him, “I can’t move, sir.”

Finstock pauses, gives him a once over, “What.”

“I’m…” Derek grits his teeth, “My pants are stuck to the chair.”

Finstock squints, gives Derek a look like he’s going to start pulling his hair out, or maybe Derek’s hair, fifty fifty.

“Are you messing with me, Hale? After everything you and Stilinski put me through last year, after the damn bird incident; the water balloons.”

“Coach, I swear, it’s not me, it was—”

Finstock grabs Derek’s shoulders and attempts to yank him upwards. Derek lets out a yell when his knees bash the desk, unable to go anywhere but directly into the damn thing. The chair legs jam into the desk behind him, there’s an uncomfortable scramble as Finstock struggles to take Derek and the desk/chair combination’s weight. It’s one of those moments Derek would love to have on tape to prove it actually happened. It’s mortifying. He suspects it’s exactly what Stiles was going for.

Keep reading

Surprise visit

Fandom: The Flash

Pairing: Dr. Harrison Wells x Reader

Summary: When depression stops you from being around people you decide to call in sick and stay at home. But Harrison shows up because he wants to be there for you. 

Originally posted by acewest360

It was one of those days. Staying at home with the door carefully locked and the phone turned off was the best you could do all day. You didn’t want to meet anyone so going to S.T.A.R. Labs was out of the question. In the morning you called your supervisor to tell him you didn’t feel well and you were aware that he knew without asking what the real problem was.

Every once in a while you glanced at the clock on the wall across the room and, while it felt like several hours had passed already, in reality it was usually ten minutes tops since your last glance at it. You hated it, the weird perception of time that only annoyed you even more.

Then the doorbell rang but you ignored it. Well, at least you tried because whoever was standing outside didn’t give up and you had no other choice but to open the door and tell them to go to hell. It was rude but effective.

Once you opened it just enough to see the unwanted guest you sadly noted it was him, Harrison who apparently loved to show up uninvited. He usually did whatever he wanted to and no one ever tried to tell him no. Well, at least you definitely didn’t. Except for this time, because now you closed the door almost immediately.

But he didn’t give up and knocked, loudly and not stopping until you opened it. “You didn’t come to work today,” he stated.

“I don’t feel well. If you want to fire me for this just go ahead, I was planning to quit anyway,” you told him then tried to close the door, but he quickly put his foot in the way to keep it open. “Pull back your foot.”

“No. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on with you.”

“It’s none of your business.

Letting out a frustrated sigh he massaged the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “It’s my business if it concerns you, Y/N. And I would never fire you because I need you on my team and in the lab,” he added with a shrug.

As you closed your eyes, you rested your forehead against the edge of the door. “Are you done?” you asked quietly.

“No, let me in,” Harrison said as if it was an order, not a request.

“I guess it’s pretty obvious that I don’t want you here.”

He suddenly let out a desperate laugh and put his hand on the doorframe. “What have I done?” he asked with his blue eyes set on you, almost begging for an answer. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Doing what?”

“Shutting me out. Look, let’s just talk this through. If you want to end what’s going on between us, fine, but do me a favor and say it to my face, right here and right now.”

You shook your head, unable to decide what to say next. You didn’t want to explain him anything but he still deserved some sort of an explanation; after all he came all the way here to visit you. “Okay, here you go: I don’t want you around and I’ll even talk to the HR department about quitting my job at S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Now that you said this one out loud it became obvious that you actually wanted this; you wanted to quit. Maybe do something completely different, something that didn’t require any sort of responsibility. You were then snapped out of your thoughts by Harrison who didn’t seem to be fond of the idea.

“You can’t do that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t let you quit, I won’t accept it. Why don’t we talk about it inside?”

“Fine,” you say before opening the door wide enough to let him in.

But what he did next caught you off guard because you didn’t expect him to kiss you. No, you definitely didn’t expect him to act like this. Harrison wasn’t the nicest being on the planet after all, his behavior often drove people away. Sure, when it came to you he was often nice, though whenever you met in S.T.A.R. Labs he kept his distance. It was professional and understandable, of course, and you appreciated it.

Still you pushed him away, angry about how much he disrespected your privacy and wish to be left alone. “What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your mind?”

“That usually works,” he told you with a smug smile.

“Well, not this time.”

“You can’t shut me out forever, you know,” Harrison explained, following you to the living room. “Also, I know about your depression and I just can’t leave you alone when you’re like this.”

“Crazy?” you offered with raised eyebrows, your head tilted to the side.

After running his hand through his dark hair, making it messier than it usually was, he reached out and put his hands on your shoulders. “Let me help you through this.”

“You can’t help.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”


“Alright, then I’ll cook something,” Harrison said with a short nod. “Until then you should go and take a bath, okay?”

“I’m not hungry,” you pointed out quietly, taking a step back. Be cautious; that’s the only thought that appeared in the back of your mind, being repeated over and over again. This wasn’t like Harrison. Normally he was… He was complicated and definitely not boyfriend material.

“You need to eat something.”

As you walked away you ran your hands through your hair, just like he had done a few minutes ago. “Harrison, please, don’t do this. Don’t try to be nice.”

“I’m always nice with you,” he said and you could hear the hint of disappointment in his voice. Maybe this time he was being honest. Strange.

“Yeah but it’s creepy,” you told him, quickly realizing how badly this sentence sounded. “I mean, considering how you behave with others most of the time.”

“You’re paranoid but it’s your depression talking.” Harrison let out a sigh and sat on the back of the couch, watching you quietly for a couple of minutes before speaking up again. “Alright, let’s forget dinner. Just go and get some sleep.”

You shot an angry look at him then said, “You’re not my dad.”

“Oh, yes, thank god I’m not,” Harrison said as he laughed, unable go on just yet. This was definitely a first. Had you even seen him laugh before? You weren’t sure. “That would make things between us quite… illegal, wouldn’t it? Look, I won’t say a word, I just want to be here for you.”

“Leave. Now.”

He shook his head, walked over to you and gently placed a hand on the side of your neck. “Y/N, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it so hard to understand that I want to be alone?”

“I understand it, I just don’t care about it.” Now that definitely sounded like Harrison. “The last thing I want is you doing something stupid.”

“What does that supposed to mean, Harrison?”

“Listen,” he began, biting his lower lip for a moment, “this, what I’m doing right now, is something I don’t do often. For some reason I simply can’t stand the idea of you being alone now so please, just let me stay here tonight.”

You forced smile on your lips as you looked him in the eye, shivering from the intensity of his gaze. “If you’re planning to say I love you or something I’ll throw up. It’s just a friendly warning.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he assured you then kissed your forehead. For a second you believed he finally understood what you’d been talking about all along but it wasn’t the case. When he spoke up again his voice was quiet, as if he didn’t even want you to hear his words. “But I do love you nonetheless.”

all-that-craic  asked:

Hello Lotte, just to say I love your hc about Eposette and would you have any soft hc of Eponine and Cosette finding comfort in each other after the result of the first turn of the French election? Only if you want! Don't feel pressure or anything. Thanks you

Oh man god knows we need that (i apologise in advance for bad formatting. Tumblr mobile.)

Obviously les amis watch it together all piled on Enjolras’ sofa (they know if it packs out badly Enjolras will be too broken up to walk home)

Eponine is huddled on Cosette’s lap nervously tugging Cosette’s hair. Cosette has her hands wrapped firmly around Eponine’s free hand to stop herself from biting her nails.

Then the result.

There is a deadly silence. Cosette lets out a single sob and Eponine stands up and pulls her out of the apartment.

They don’t make it far. Eponine’s legs give way just outside the apartment building and she sinks down against the wall. Cosette sits silently next to her on the pavement.

Eponine leans her head against the wall and reaches for Cosette who melts into her girlfriend’s side. Cosette cries quietly into Eponine’s shoulder but they don’t say anything for a while.

Eponine breaks the silence first.

“Do you want to borrow my mascara?”
“No I want people to know how upset I am.”
Eponine pulls Cosette to her feet.
“I know this is usually your thing, but if we go home i will bake you cupcakes. Despite my turbulent history with them.” Eponine attempts a broken smile and Cosette chuckles and wipes her eyes.
“You are sweet but you are not making cupcakes on your own. If we do this we do this together.”

Eponine pulled Cosette into a tight hug. “If we do this we do it togther”

They both knew they were no longer talking about the cupcakes.

you get into an accident while jai’s on tour

requested by: anonymous

You woke up, sore and tired, surrounded by the near overwhelming smell of strong disinfectant and the sound of your heartbeat reverberating throughout the room with mechanical beeps. You opened your eyes and a boring, tiled ceiling came into focus.

Needless to say, you’d had a pretty rough day.

You remembered how you had gotten into a car accident on the way home from a movie with some of your friends, but you didn’t remember much of the accident itself. It had all happened too fast in a blur of bending metal and shattering glass. What you really knew was that you felt like you had been hit by a bus. Which wasn’t completely true, but still.

The murmuring of people in the room brought you out of your drowsy state, and you let out a small noise of displeasure at the ache in your bones. “Y/N!” Your closest friend cheered, and your eyes flickered over to where she was sitting at your bedside. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” She commented.

You gave a small smile. “Hey.” You croaked.

“Why is it that you always get hurt the worst with things like this?” She asked, and you laughed lightly. You had been friends with her since you were children and she was right. Trampoline mishaps, sledding accidents, and falling off of chairs and tables always seemed to end up with you with a bad cut or even a broken bone. Maybe it was karma for something that you weren’t aware of, or maybe you were just really really clumsy and had the worst luck.

A nurse walked into the room and checked your vitals while your friends and you made quiet conversation. After that was through, the nurse, named Taylor, asked a series of questions asking what you remembered and how you were feeling on a scale of 1 - 10 and all that. She explained that you had a pretty nasty concussion, some bruised ribs, a shoulder that was dislocated, and that you were lucky to get off as well as you did. She told you that you would need to spend a night or two just to make sure that you were alright and so that they could monitor you for a while longer.

After the nurse left, your friend handed you your phone. “Jai’s called you like ten times, I think you might want to call him back.” She said, and then proceeded to corral everyone out of the room so that you could have some privacy.

Jai’s phone rang only once before he picked up. “Oh my God, Y/N?” He asked, and you could tell that he was panicking on the other end.

“Hey babe.” You replied, your heart swelling at the sound of his voice. It had been a while since the two of you had even talked because he was across the world somewhere touring with his boys and timezones never seem to work out.

“I’m booking a flight for tomorrow and the others can do the show without me.” He said, going right into the bulk of the conversation with minimal introduction.

“Whoa, what?” You asked, laughing slightly at his straightforwardness.

“Your friend told me about what happened and I’m going to fly back so that I can be with you.”

“And you’re just going to leave the tour?”

“Well,” he paused for a moment. “Yeah, Y/N. You could have died today.”

“But I didn’t. That doesn’t mean that you have to drop everything and come to my bedside.”

“Y/N,” he pleaded.

“No, Jai.” You told him firmly. “You have, what? A month left of tour?”

“Well, yeah but-” he started, but you cut him off.

“I’m not hurt that badly, babe. I could’ve died but I didn’t. Finish the tour and I’ll be back here waiting for you, ok?”

There was a silence on the other end, and you could tell that he was conflicted between doing what you were telling him and doing the opposite but not telling you until he was there in person. “Fine.” He finally answered. “I love you, Y/N. Take care of yourself, ok? I’ll call you everyday to check in.”

“I love you too, jai.” You said with a smile. “Give my best to the others, ok?”

“Of course babe. Bye.”

You set your phone aside as the line went dead. Leaning back into the pillows and ignoring the ache in your temple, you thought about how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like him.


[a/n: i know that this one is a little baby short one but i hope that you guys like it!! all feedback is always super appreciated!! :-)]

roses-inthesky  asked:

Hey, it makes me really glad to see how many people love your blog! :D It really is awesome! I was just wondering if you could (in the future, maybe not right now if you don't have time) do another set of GIFs of the organisations in other situations? :D Like, "at the first job interview for a new job" or something. It would be VERY enjoyable and entertaining to watch xD keep up the good work dear <3 you've got a trusty and loyal follower in me :D XD

Well, this took a while, but here you are dear! And thank you so much for the compliment, this really made my day :)

(Special thanks to TangledBraid for helping me out with some of these.)

GIF Request: Job Interviews - Hellsing + Millennium + Iscariot


Alucard would, as the GIF, shows, not give a shit. None. His only job is with Hellsing so if something were to happen, he wouldn’t really care. He’s a soldier for the queen and always will be. No interviews needed thank you.


Integra is the boss. Sorry, no interview needed.


When going in for her police job, for example, Seras would flip out. She’s nervous because she wants to be a part of the force so badly, but is worried about messing up.


Pip would be drunk. He would show up, filled with alcohol, ready to brace anything. How the hell he got the job is a mystery to this day.


If Walter couldn’t work for Hellsing, he’d have trouble getting job due to his snark if he were applying as his younger version. I mean, can you imagine him applying for Hellsing in the first place, with that little piece of shit attitude?


He would be, as the GIF shows, nice. He would be confident, kind, and able to do this. Anderson is honestly the most normal of everyone (which is weird considering who and how he is XD)


He wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t work for Iscariot, okay. He’d flip his shit. He’s wanted this power for a shit-ton of time. As for the beginning of this, when he first began, I still feel like he’d be spazz since he NEEDS this power so badly.


Heinkel, in my mind, is rather rude, as I’ve mentioned before. Heinkel could function in an interview, but if the interviewer even once questions their abilities or anything about them, violence will occur. XD


Depends on the personality really. If Yumie is out, well tables will be flipped, much like Heinkel’s interview. Yumiko though would be timid and do rather well, much like Anderson.

The Major

(Oh my God Major, why must your GIFs always be so ridiculous?) 

He would be smooth and know exactly what to say. People wouldn’t expect it from him, given his stature and his flamboyant way of speech. But he pulls through with his charisma.

The Doctor

I don’t think Doc would want to work for anyone other than Millennium. If anything were to happen, he’d be his own boss. When wanting to work for Millennium, there was a lot of showing off while making sure he could be in control of his experiments.

The Captain

Okay, I’m not sorry, ‘cuz it’s true. Captain can’t talk (at least in my mind) so appearances would matter completely here. His talents would be the only way of him getting hired, hence, Millennium scooped him up.

Zorin Blitz

Zorin is rude and would have difficulty getting any form of job. She’d HAVE to find one where she can be violent. Otherwise, see above for her reaction.


Would freak out well after the interview was over. Rip would be huddled somewhere until she received the news of how well it went. She doesn’t take well to stress.


He’d be smooth and, of course, well dressed, and would know what to say and when. He’s the best when it comes to appearances and how to convince people.


Schrodinger would put on a cute face in hopes of winning over the person giving the interview. Just bat those eyes and be as adorable as possible to win. He does.

Jan Valentine

Jan, is like many people here, very rude and vulgar and it would be very difficult. He’d probably need Luke there to assure the employer of his worth past the rude exterior.

Luke Valentine

Dat hair tho. He’d be fabulous. Like Tubalcain, he’s fantastic with people and knows just what to say. He’s even able to get Jan in on it, which is quite a feat given his brother’s personality.

(ALright, I think that’s everyone. I hope you all enjoyed and thank you again for the request :D)

anonymous asked:

The clarification that you don't mind/aren't opposed to the reading of Tom and Carl as gay makes all the difference in the issue in my mind. Like, you're not going to tell us what to think rather than you don't want us to think they're gay.

Oh, jeez, telling people what to think is always a nonstarter. (You wouldn’t get very far with me in that department, I can tell you.)

Leaving schools of literary criticism aside for the moment, I would have to be the Dimmest Writer On Earth if I seriously thought that people weren’t already doing exactly what they liked with my characters in their heads… just as I do with other people’s characters. This is just the way things are, and the writer who tries to keep this from happening is riding for a fall.

They’re also potentially cutting off their own nose(s) to spite their face, because a writer who tries to interfere with that fiction-shaping impulse in the reader’s mind is  messing with something that has the ability to significantly enhance or even save their career. I’m referring to the reader’s ability to make what they read, in the act of reading, better than it was to begin with.

…This takes a little explaining. I believe that everybody who reads for pleasure is party to this effect to at least some extent, especially if they’re already committed to either the writer or (past instances of) the written. And this phenomenon slops over into others of the arts as well. I first experienced it this way when I was ten.

On some summer night in 1962, my folks took me to the drive-in and we saw a film called First Spaceship On Venus. (God only knows why they did this, except I was already a space nut and they were humoring me.) To say I was absolutely smitten with this movie would be putting it mildly. Even so I wasn’t smitten enough to last all the way through to the end: this was the era of double features, I have no memory of what the first movie was, and then as now I wasn’t much good at staying up late. But I carried the memory of FSOV well into adulthood as a terrific movie with a beautiful spaceship and wonderful aliens – just a completely fabulous movie, a seminal experience in a life already grounded on an understanding that science fiction was a wonderful thing.

Fast forward twenty or so years, to the point where I’m working as David Gerrold’s assistant. David has always been an early adopter, and he had gotten one of the very first domestic VCRs, a massive U-Matic thing (I think this is the one. Dear God what a dinosaur). At some point or another I noticed that FSOV was scheduled on TV on one of the LA-area channels that showed old movies late at night. I begged David to record the thing for me, as though I hadn’t seen it since I was ten, I could still remember how it thrilled me way back when.

So he recorded it, and the next day after I finished what work needed doing, I sat down and watched it.

I wouldn’t be understating to describe this film as a train wreck from beginning to end.* (It’s been on MST3K, with reason.) I watched in horror as a badly put together plot full of stilted performances unspooled itself between two planets. And those cool little alien robots? They were ping-pong balls with pipecleaners stuck in them. I was, to put it mildly, disillusioned.

…And left in a quandary. What the hell had happened? Why were the little alien robots or whatever so wonderful in my memory? Why did memory insist it was a terrific movie when adult experience made it plain it was a turkey? It wasn’t about comparative critical ability… not that much. I could be pretty scathing about bad movies when I was ten. (Don’t get me started on The Brain from Planet Arous. Or The Crawling Eye, which terrified me out of my wits for about a week until I saw it a second time on one of the local NY stations that would repeat a single film three or four times in a day/week] and thought, in a burst of terrifying clarity, “Boy is this stupid!” )

I came back to the problem occasionally as the years went by and worried at it in search of answers, and got none… until I started getting fan mail on my books. The praise went way beyond heartening, sometimes. People were waxing enthusiastic over stuff I was sure I had not done – didn’t think to include, wasn’t smart enough (yet) to write. Textual inspection was no help. I knew what words were there but not how these readers were deriving what they saw and loved from it.

But slowly a theme started to emerge.  These readers, regardless of age, were making my work better than it really was – for the author’s value of “really”. They were doing with my stuff exactly what ten-year-old-me had done with FSOV. Their enthusiasm and wholehearted commitment to the material was helping them find virtues in it that I couldn’t feel responsible for… and maybe it didn’t strictly matter who was responsible, or if they were. Enjoyment happened. And who the hell in their right mind would step on that, just for the sake of being right?

At the end of the day, it’s just love, I guess. You fall in love with something and you’re impelled to make it better, willing to forgive it all kinds of faults and improve it inside your head. Here as in so many other places, perhaps it’s that simple: “love is the answer.” …Who knew. :)

Following this line of reasoning, I have to believe that readers apply their own readings of what’s going on with Tom and Carl to the characters at least partly because they like them so much. Gods forbid I should interfere with that.

So let’s let it lie there, as I have about fifty sort-of-businessy things to do today that have not been getting done, and then (for my sins) I think I need to watch FSOV again. It’s on YouTube, heaven help me. (And now I discover that Brain from Planet Arous has a sequel. I am doomed. Curse you, IMDb!!)

*At the meta level too, it turns out. Including uncredited, unlicensed music from other SF or horror movies, and a screenplay with three writing teams and twelve drafts of the screenplay. Sweet Thoth but the mind boggles.


Written by: @kill3rinstinct

You’d just walked into your house and were rubbing at your forehead.  The pain from your black eye was giving you a headache.  A major one.  All you wanted to do was eat some soup, take a nice shower, and lay down in bed.  A small part of you hoped Happy didn’t show up tonight just so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of his worrying questions.  You knew he meant well, but sometimes his big macho thing got annoying and you really didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

You were placing your keys on the counter when you heard laughter come from the living room.  Happy didn’t laugh as much as he used to since Bobby and Jax died (probably because of the toll it took from losing two brothers so close within each other), so you knew it wasn’t him.  Apart from the fact that it sounded like more than one voice and they were all quite high pitched compared to Happy’s laugh.  The thought of what was to come from just walking into the room made your headache increase tenfold.

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