• The look that Dick and Nix exchange after Dick is asked if it’s safe to cross in Carentan
• GENE’S PINK NOSE
• “We salute the rank, not the man.”
• Perconte’s height
• Webster’s little “They got me!”
• Luz starting the Airborne Infantry cadence while they’re running Curahee to drown out Sobel’s taunting
• “Lt Sobel hates us, sir.” “Lt Sobel does not hate Easy Company, Pvt Randleman. He just hates you.” “Thank you, sir.”
• Liebgott’s hair
• Whenever someone talks shit about Speirs, he is there and he knows
• Also Speirs’ sticky fingers like holy shit
•"Where the fuck is everybody? Where did everybody go?“ “I HAVE NO IDEA!”
• That moment in Bastogne where they’re all sitting in a circle making fun of their food and Hinkle
• Everything about Babe Heffron
• Perconte always brushing his teeth
• When the entire company sings Blood on the Risers
• “Bull, smack him for me please?” [soft smack] “Thank you.”
• Mama Lipton. Enough said
• If you get shot in the ass, you get a Hershey bar
• The way Nixon looks at Hitler’s wine cellar
• “I could use some brass knuckles.”
Please feel free to add your favorites on to the list
3.4k, smut, jungkook/reader, friends with benefits au (+ college + fuckboy)
Jungkook is a fuckboy through and through. If you look at all his social media
photos, all you see are countless images of him sandwiched between two girls,
his muscular arms wrapped around their shoulders. Two different girls in each
picture, never the same. Most of the photos are dark, dimly lit party scenes
with the flash in their eyes, but sometimes there are filter-saturated beach
pictures in which Jungkook’s shirtless and hugging girls in bikinis.
(Quite frankly, at times you
weren’t really sure who to be jealous of: Jungkook or the girls. Both looked
really fucking good. But it’s not like you were really Instagram stalking him
and actually cared about his pictures or anything. Totally not.)
so many belle cosplayers have done breathtaking jobs at recreating belle’s dress/giving it a more personal touch to stand out from the original design,, like they spent all that $$$ on a shit sticky note lookin dress when cosplayers out here can make something 1000x better for $100
discliamer: consistent perspective and accurate characteriization is for… sober people. — Jesus fuck, what a little spitfire.
With her cute
little ponytail. Sweet little lips. Fuck.
Palms his dick in the dark, over his
Cute little ponytail… wanna pull on it.. mmm.
Like the way you gasp. Are you saying, Ms. Scully, that mean old Fox
Mulder pulled your ponytail at recess? Means he likes you, that’s all.
hard to be rational in a winter storm. Hard to remember that she’s
his colleague. Hard to remember there are worms here. Hard to
remember that a guy died like… three hours ago. Hard. Very, very,
painfully… hard. He slips his fingers under his waistband.
Cute lil ass tackling the Big Bad Bear… spunk. That’s what it is.
She’s got spunk. Wanna… wanna pull that cute little ponytail. Make
you say my name. Mmm. Fiery little thing. Wanna make you come.
hand gripping his shaft. Mmm. Love your cute little
hands… yes, Dr. Scully, I think you’d better take a very close
look. Yes, closer. Mmmm. Wanna see it on your sweet little face.
Wanna rub it on your pretty little nose. Why yes, Dr. Scully, it is a
fine specimen, thank you very much. You like it? You want it?
traces the head of his cock, gently, precisely, like he imagines
she’d touch him.
You’re a bad girl, Dana – Um,
yikes, maybe Dana was too intimate – Scully, then…
You’re a bad girl, Scully… I’ve seen the way you look at me. What
are you thinking about? My cock? You’re thinking about my big cock
between those pretty lips of yours? You wanna suck me off? You wanna
show me what else that smart little tongue can do? You wanna see if
you can say ‘hypothalamus’ with my dick in your throat? Well… I’m
nothing if not obliging…
now, tight-fisted and jaw clenched. That’s right baby,
swirl your tongue around the head. Good girl. Good, good, good girl.
Yes, baby, play with my balls… mmm. Lick 'em. Good girl. Such a
good girl. Yes, look up at me with those pretty blue eyes… mmm.
You’re so good to me, Scully. You like my dick in your mouth? You’re
so pretty with my dick in your mouth. So pretty.
Oh god, FUCK
gotta make this last. Slow down. FUCK. Slow down. Slow down. Okay.
Okay. Okay. Okay. Phew.
Mmmmmmmm… So pretty. Wanna see your
pretty little pussy. Ooo,
shaved? No. Not a bush… she’s no Phoebe… something neat and tidy
and definitely red. Yes. Natural redhead. Of course. Sweet
pink little pussy… gorgeous. Wet for me. So wet for me. Glistening.
Dripping. Oh, fuck yesssss… Naughty girl. I’ve seen the way you
look at me. Yes… do I make you wet, baby? I do? So wet that you
keep an extra pair of panties at the office? So wet that you have to
scurry off on those cute little legs and touch yourself in the bathroom sometimes?
naughty little whore. Oh, that
didn’t feel so good… okay, not a whore. Slut? No. Um. Baby’s good.
Scully. And baby. And good girl. Okay.
you’re a naughty little…. you’re so naughty, Scully. Sweet pink
little pussy. Red hair. Cute little landing strip. Wonder if she’s
got freckles on her belly, too. Souvenirs from sunbathing on
holiday… Yes. She does.
Cute little freckles. Cute little
pussy. Wanna lick it. Wanna taste it. Mmmmmmm, baby, so wet for me.
So hot and sweet and good… yes, say my name… scream it, baby, no
one’s listening… Fox!! Oh, wow, yikes, no. Mulder!! That’ll
work. Yes, Scully, grind on my face, baby, yes, come for
me, come for me… wanna make you scream… yes FUCK grind your cute
little pussy against my mouth… yesssssssssssssFUCK.
… holy fuck. goddamn. phew.
can’t keep doing that. Gonna get attached. Shit, chest’s all sticky
now. Shit. You’re an asshole. She’s a scientist and a damn good
agent. You dumb fuck. She’s your partner, you dumb fuck. Okay, that’s
the last time. The last time. I swear.
Summary: Jason spilled his beer on you at a basketball game
Key: Y/N= your name, F/N= your friend’s name
God you hated basketball. Well, you sorta hated all sports, but basketball was just so boring. It was a bunch of squeaking and nonsense that you didn’t understand and didn’t really bother trying.
Unluckily for you, your friend, F/N, decided to surprise you with tickets to a Gotham Guardsman game while you were in town. You didn’t have the heart to reject such an eager face, so you sighed, slapped on an excited expression, and said yes. F/N was so happy and they began counting down the days until the game arrived. The day of your ultimate doom.
Bruce Wayne had always had tickets to the Gotham Guardsman games, he was of course the Bruce Wayne. When Bruce announced to the family that they’d be going to a game, Jason was less than thrilled. Being dead meant it was a trip for the family minus him, but Bruce had a different idea.
“Jason, I know it sucks that you can’t attend a lot of things with the family, but you are coming to the game. I went out and bought you some hair dye and colored contacts. Alfred will help with your hair and the contacts are easy enough,” Bruce explained. He was enthusiastic as he spoke.
“Bruce, chill for a sec,” Jason interrupted, “what happens when someone asks who I am? Besides, I don’t really like basketball anyway. It’s no big deal.”
Bruce gave him a stern look, “You are coming. We’ll call you ‘Jay’ and you’ll be Dick’s roommate. That’s the final word on the matter.” And with that, no more arguing would occur…until the very last minute.
The day of the game arrived, you were leaving town that next morning and F/N was dreading it, but they were excited you were seeing the game with them.
“Y/N! I’m so glad we’re doing this! You’re going to have a great time, and don’t worry about knowing stuff, just cheer for the team in black and gold.”
“Yeah, whoopie,” you stated with fake enthusiasm. “I can’t wait.”
“Oh! And guess what!” F/N didn’t even give you the chance to guess. “We’ll be sitting right near the seats that Bruce Wayne sits in. Bruce Wayne! Can you believe it?”
“Never in a million years.” All you knew about the Wayne family is that a) they’re rich as hell and b) there are so many children. So many. They just multiply and no one knows how or where or when. They just appear.
You walked into the stadium with F/N and immediately went to find your seats, per their instructions, even though you really wanted a pretzel. You squeezed past a family and a small group of men to get to your seats, which ended up being on the far end from where you entered. They actually weren’t that bad. Close enough to see the action, but far enough away you could be on your phone and no one would notice.
“Hey F/N, these seats are really nice. How’d you get them?”
They went into a long spiel about how their dad’s co-worker’s sister’s friend’s cousin is a big corporate person who has serious connections to some top dog with a friend who loves basketball and Gotham. You lulled in and out of the story while people watching. It was quite entertaining until you were interrupted a man with a trail of children, with cameras focusing on their every move, blocking your view.
“Ugh,” you pouted, slouching into your seat.
“Y/N, Y/N! That’s Bruce Wayne,” she pointed at the man who had just passed you. “And that’s Dick Grayson, he was an acrobat, and that’s Cassandra, she’s kinda silent but so cool, and that’s Tim Drake, he’s like a genius or something. That right there,” they pointed to the smallest of the group, “is Damian Wayne, he’s like the only one there that’s actually related to Bruce Wayne.”
“Yeah? Well, who’s that,” you pointed to a brown haired man with hazel eyes. “Is he part of the family?”
“No, I don’t think so . He’s probably just friends with one of them,” F/N just shrugged off this mysterious stranger, but you wanted to know more because, come on, a new person hanging around with the Waynes usually ends up being adopted.
Jason sat, pouting, as Alfred messed with his hair. “This is stupid. It’s never going to work.”
“Master Jason, you disappeared as a boy, so most people will have no clue who you are. Master Bruce knows this or else he would not have forced us all into this situation,” Alfred explained, a joking bitterness in his voice.
Jason was now a brunet and had brown eyes, though Dick would say they’re more hazel, but Jason would slap him every time he would suggest it. As they walked through the door to the basketball game, Bruce was immediately bombarded with questions.
“Bruce Wayne, how do you feel about the stock?”
“Mr. Wayne, do you think the Guardsman will win?”
“Bruce Wayne! Who all have you brought with you tonight?”
Bruce just waved off the questions and guided his family to their seats. Jason people watched as this mysterious man with this mysterious family. He saw two couples, a small family, and a girl staring directly back at him. He quickly looked away, afraid he would be found out, but she didn’t look old enough to remember him before his death.
They ended up two rows in front of the girl. Jason would spin around, briefly, every once and a while to catch the girl staring. It was unsettling. He was so used to going completely unnoticed, but something about her was different. It was like she was studying him. This staring actually made Jason want to talk to her, bu the’d have to do it as ‘Jay’.
“Jay,” Tim interrupted his thoughts, “wanna get a soda? Maybe some snacks before the game starts?”
“If I’m going to be an errand boy, I’m gonna get beer.” Jason took a plastic card out of his pocket, “Bruce thought of everything.”
“Okay F/N, I’m starving. Do you want anything?” You were tired on just sitting around waiting for something to start. You planned to be productive if you were going to stretch your legs.
“Oh, uh, just some popcorn please,” F/N mutter, to caught up in watching the Waynes, like a t.v. show.
You nodded, snatched up your wallet, and climbed up the steps towards the concession stands. As you ascended, you heard two distinct sets of feet behind you. You glanced behind quickly and saw Tim Drake and the mystery man. You snapped back after you almost fell up the stairs and ran the rest of the way.
Jason saw you slip. If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed was because of him. He then watched as you sped up the stairs. “Hm,” he huffed to himself.
“What was that Jay,” Tim asked, emphasizing the last word and waggled his eyebrows.
“Nothing nerd.” Jason shoved his brother. They both chuckled and continued to the concession stands.
Jason decided to stack the drinks on top of each other, his beer on top. He thought it was a good idea, and Tim heavily disagreed with him but let it happen. Tim held three bags of popcorn, five pretzels, and a thing of nachos, so he wasn’t complaining when Jason refused to get a tray for the drinks. “It’s your head,” he joked.
Jason walk with ease, thinking he knew exactly how this would go. He’d walk down the steps, grab his beer and put the rim in his mouth, he turn to pass out the rest of the drinks, and then he’d sit and watch basketball.
To say the least: it didn’t go as he planned.
You held a bag of popcorn and a pretzel in one hand, a Dr. Pepper and Sprite in the other. You had shuffled over to the little table that had those cup holders and began to set everything up in a easier manner for carrying. You spun around when you had finished and ran into someone.
You became wet and sticky, soaked to the bone in a concoction of Dr. Pepper, Sprite, and who-knows-what else. You cried out in disgust. Your food was discarded upon the ground and you shook your arms, trying to get rid of the sticky feeling.
“Ah shit, I’m so sorry! Shit, this is all my fault, I wasn’t paying attention. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Oh my god, yeah? Just…ugh…just take a step back. This sucks ass!” you began to talk to yourself and tried to get rid of the sticky substance, “See this is why I hate sports. I hate the ignorant people, I hate the food, I hate the hard plastic seats…”
“Dude are you okay? What’s your name?” Jason was taken aback by your ramblings.
You snapped back to reality. “I’m Y/N. Who are you?”
“Jasssssss-ay. Jay. I’m Jay. Yep. Are you okay? Can I do anything? I’m really sorry.” Jason thought you were pretty, even though you were sticky, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being in a crappy situation caused by him.
“If you have the money to buy a pretzel, popcorn, two sodas, and a new shirt, I might be able to forgive you,” you joshed.
“Anything.” Jason smiled at your surprised face. He was going to make it up to you no matter what.
And it wasn’t like you wanted to go back and watch basketball.
genre- fluff, au (warning- a bit more cussing than usual)
summary- “the first words you’ll ever say to your soulmate is tattooed on the inside of your left ring finger” soulmate!au
a/n- hello cuties! i wasn’t planning on posting another soulmate!au scenario, but a lovely follower (it wont let me tag their name for some reason, but it is @ smelllikeleatherandbooks ) gave me this idea when they commented on my yoongi scenario, thanks to you, i will be doing a soulmate series! a different au for each member :’) everybody, PLEASE give me some feedback on this scenario (and the whole idea). im quite nervous about it!
As you grow up, you’re taught which words are “appropriate” to use, like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. On the other hand, also learn which ones you definitely shouldn’t say during a church service, which range from ‘ass’ to the f word.
7.6.15 // Sometimes I’ll need to get a lot done in a week, but know I can’t write them all down for one day, so I’ll write myself a little sticky note to put on that week in my bullet journal. This way, if I have free time or know the next day won’t be busy, I can pull from this to-do list and get it all done in a timely fashion :)
Ps. Super excited because I’m going to have some of my art displayed in a local restaurant! :D Yay!