take me back to the early 2000s and leave me there

Scumbag Aunt ripped off my Grandma for years, I put my nose in her business and had the IRS financially ruin her.

This is going to be long, so TL; DR; Aunt screwed over my Grandma for years, I put my nose in her business, got parents wise on the fraud and eventually reported her to the IRS. The long dick of the IRS bankrupted her and her husband and now they are destitute and too old to work. 


This happened about 5 years ago. My Grandma was getting old, late 80s/early 90s. She had one wish, to not die in a senior home. Easily done as my Grandpa sold some assets way back when, then invested the money and let it ride for 30+ years; he never touched it and collected a pension.

Way back when my Grandpa died, (about 10 years before this), my Grandma appointed my dad, this shitty aunt and my uncle as the Trustees of the trust. Basically the trusted advisors for her and her care for the foreseeable future. All was well in the beginning, then my dad (Willy) moved further away and couldn’t take care of the day to day upkeep as the Trustee and to see that my grandma was ok. My aunt (Rebecca) told her that she and my uncle (Fred, who lived in Arizona) could take over and all would be fine. It was fine for a while.

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Take One

Take One: Scene One
[College Au! Taking an editing course with Christian]

As class came to an end your professor handed back your peer reviewed midterms. You honestly always thought peer reviewed was a fancy way of saying Your professor was too lazy to actually grade it themselves, but there were no complaints on your end. There was no way a classmate would fail you, they probably had the same anxiety.

Everyone was always lenient at peer reviews. Right?

“Alright Kids, remember to go over the discussion board, read the next chapter and start drafting ideas for the final” Professor Seo leaned on her desk, taking off her glasses. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, can I do a makeup midterm?” One of the kids in the back piped up.

She chuckled. “No make ups, but if anyone enters the film festival, that presentation will be used to replace their lowest grade, including a midterm. Next question?”

“Professor Seo, what is this?” you gasped turning over your paper.

“Is there a problem?” she raised a brow.

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anonymous asked:

Legit confused anon, I know Bitch Hartman tends to be a bad writer but what else has he done to scare the fanbase so badly?

Alright dear anon, sit down, Grandpa Leo is going to tell you a little story about the Olden Days.

You know how hellish the SU fandom is with their shipping? Remember that drama the GF fandom had regarding authorial intent? Imagine that but with a creator that’s actually homophobic and actively antagonizes and aggravates the fanbase.

Basically, way back in the early 2000s, Hartman was (from what i recall) somewhat active on certain forums, where most of the Danny Phantom fans hung out (Danny Phantom’s original run was 2004-2007 if that gives you an idea of what The Internet was like back then. Facebook was just starting to get popular, smartphones weren’t really a thing yet, etc).

So at some point, someone asked him how he felt about fanfiction, because these were Dark Days when people plastered disclaimers all over their fanfics so they wouldn’t get sued (you know, that thing that you youngsters keep complaining about whenever you find one in a particularly old fanfic: It’s there so we don’t get sued), and knowing where a creator stood on these issues was Important Information.

Now, I wasn’t old enough to be online unsupervised yet (I was nine when Danny Phantom first came out and my parents were strict) and I took the whole ‘you must have your parents permission to make an account’ thing very seriously so it wouldn’t be until about 2007-2008 until I discovered the concept of fandom (during my Speed Racer phase) and by then the Danny Phantom fans were already in the thick of it. I don’t recall exactly what he said, but the gist of it is this:

“I don’t mind fanfiction and fanart as long as no one’s gay”

This, naturally, caused a Ruckus (they were called ‘ship wars’ at the time, I don’t know if the term’s changed or not but boy was it Bad), for multiple reasons, the most important of which being: many actually LGBT people view the show as a metaphor for a closeted gay kid who’s afraid to come out to his parents, which is why the revelation. 

This was about the only valid viewpoint in the whole debacle.

It wasn’t the popular pick.

I’d say something along the lines of “fans can write their fanfic as gay as they want it to be” but, to be honest, fanfic is not the guarantee we think it is. A lot of people take their creative freedom for granted these days. The idea of fanfiction existing as it is now was unthinkable back then. No one would have said anything even close to that.

No, the Sides in this ruckus weren’t so noble.

See, almost everyone who was mad at each other over this was straight.

These were Homophobic and Proud Straight Fans fighting with MLM-Fetishizing Yaoi Fans.

It was a vicious cycle and both sides were as wrong as they were right. (Put down your pitchforks I’ll explain in a sec)

On the one hand, the Homophobic and Proud straight fans would cite authorial intent and ‘moral superiority’ as reasons why fanfiction Shouldn’t Be Gay.

On the other, MLM-Fetishizing Yaoi Fans correctly called foul on Hartman’s homophobia, but in response flooded deviantart and ffn (AO3 didn’t exist yet) with yaoi.

Now, for those of my followers who are too young to have really seen Danny Phantom, here’s a tidbit of information:

Danny Fenton has two best friends (Sam and Tucker), a sister (Jazz), a clone-sister (Dani), and another main friend who sometimes wants to kill him but when he’s not a ghost she wants to smooch him (Valerie. It’s hard to explain). Excluding the sister and the clone-sister, that leaves Sam Tucker and Valerie as the main potential love interests, as they are all reasonably attractive, form close bonds with the main character, and are all Danny’s age (remind me to go into detail on the Fandom Hierarchy of Attraction later).

So naturally, most of the Homophobic and Proud shippers shipped Danny with either Sam or Valerie, both of whom got some nice canon interactions. It should be noted that Valerie is black and for some reason more people ship Danny with Sam, who is white but also Early 2000s Jewish, which is to say: you would never know she was Jewish unless you watched the holiday episode, so she’s at the very least white-passing. Read into that what you will.

So you’d think that the MLM-Fetishizing Yaoi Fans would have adored Danny and Tucker right? Wrong. Tucker is also black, therefore, no one really shipped him with anyone (sometimes Valerie, sometimes Dani, who is biologically about 12 but also a clone so she’s actually maybe about six months old). Nah, the yaoi fangirls just loved shipping Danny, a 14 year old, with the main villain, a man named Vlad who is literally old enough to be Danny’s dad. Vlad’s entire character arc revolves around him trying to kill Danny’s actual dad, marry his mom, and become his new dad.

Essentially, all the actually gay people in the fandom got pushed to the sidelines as any cries of homophobia from our supposed ‘allies’ were met with ‘you literally ship a 14 year old kid with a 40 year old man and we’re not listening to you.’  so excuse me for not liking incest shippers who do the same thing

This lasted for years. I think it finally died down around 2010, 2012 maybe? It went on for a while though.

And it all started because Hartman couldn’t keep his homophobic mouth shut.

Basically, as much as I complain about Hirsch and the GF fandom and the SU fandom, you couldn’t pay me to go back to the phandom during that nonsense.

What if since meeting your soulmate is the best thing to happen to you, they get teleported to the site of the worst thing that’s happened to you?

or: my take on this AU by @shitty-check-please-aus


Jack skates through the crowd of his teammates who are currently mobbing the small blonde freshman who brought pie of all things into his practice.  He’s kind of intending to ask the kid what the hell he thinks he’s doing feeding these guys before they have to go run drills, anyway.  Like seriously, does he want a rink full of projectile-vomiting jocks?  Cuz that’s an ugly scene that he does not want to explain to the ice crew.  But he’s the captain, and so when guys on his team act like morons, Jack is always the one who has to go apologize on behalf of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team.

He’s more than ready to lay into the new guy, but when the crowd parts, and new guy looks up, he smiles this nervous little smile and says,

“Hi!  I’m Eric -” and then everything goes black.  


Coach Bittle got into the habit of always checking the janitor’s closet on his way out of the building every night.  After what happened to Junior, he ended up just sort of gravitating there.  The first time he’d had the urge to check inside, he’d ignored it and spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, imagining a tiny freshman, plopped on a bucket and crying their eyes out.  When the custodian showed up at 5, Coach was already waiting in his truck with a cup of coffee.  Now he just gives in.  Figures that as far as compulsive, guilty urges go, it’s not that bad.  Only takes him another minute out of his way, and now he goes home and sleeps like a baby.

Luckily, depite making it part of his nightly routine for the past few years, nobody’s actually been locked in there.  Well.  Locked in.  There were certainly a few encounters he interrupted.  Those times he was delayed more than a minute having to make uncomfortable phone calls to parents.  

The first and only time that Coach Bittle rescues someone from the janitor’s closet is actually not even during the school year, and he isn’t actually checking for anyone.  He’d just come in to do some paperwork for preseason and spilled coffee on his desk, and when he goes to get the actually absorbent paper towels from the closet, he finds a very large, very confused man in full hockey gear.

“AHHHH!” They both scream and jolt back, Coach stumbling and catching himself on the drinking foundtain, the large hockey man, being not so lucky and still wearing skates, sits in a mop bucket.  His only solace seems to be that it’s currently empty.

“What in the sam hell!?” Coach yells, regaining his footing.  Hockey man flinches and his eyes dart around like a cornered racoon.

“Where am I?” he chokes out.  “What’s - what’s going on?”  He looks up and meets Coach’s eyes.  Coach looks down at hockey man’s jersey.  Samwell Men’s Hockey.  And he is not a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, so it takes only a few stunned seconds to realize that this must me Junior’s soulmate.  Why else would one of his teammates have been catapulted down to Georgia?

“You’re in Madison, Georgia, son.  Looks like you just met your soulmate.”

“My - but I - I was at practice?”  Hockey man looks up at him, and from way down there, looking so goddamn confused, he finally looks young enough to be playing with Dicky’s team.

“And now you’re here.  So what does that tell you?”  Coach raises an eyebrow.

“That…I…met my soulmate?”

“Sounds about right.  Also sounds like you probably need to be getting on your way back, don’t it?”

“Um, yes.  That would be.  I should.  Um.  Go.”

“Might want to start with taking off the skates first.”

“Oh, I.  Yes.”  Hockey man awkwardly lifts his legs one by one and scrunches up to untie his laces.  Coach helps him pull the skates off, and then offers a hand up out of the bucket.

“Thank you, sir.”

“No trouble.”

“Jack Zimmermann,” he introduces himself and holds his hand out to shake.  “Nice to meet you.”

“Eric Bittle Senior,” Coach tells him, trying not to feel a little pleased when the boy’s face goes pale in recognition.  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back where y’all belong.”

“But I - That’s Massachusetts.”

“I know what I said.  Hussle, you’ve got another practice tomorrow mornin’ I bet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we oughtta hope traffic’s on our side.”


Meanwhile, Bob Zimmermann nearly cuts his ear off shaving when he hears a loud thump followed by a sqeuak behind him.  He turns to find a strange young man in a Samwell Men’s Hockey jersey sprawled across his bathroom floor, clutching a pecan pie to his chest.

“Chrisse!” He yells, razor clattering to the sink.  He manages to catch his towel before it falls, luckily, but his yelling seems to have startled the poor kid even more.  He’s shaking a little as he sets the pie down gently and sits up. The blades of his skates clink against the tile.

“I - Um - Oh dear, I am so sorry!  I don’t - I don’t know what happened!  I was at practice and then - I mean - I’ll just be going.”

“Non!”  Bob rushes to assure the boy it’s fine, but when he steps forward, it startles him all over again.  Clearing his throat, Bob steps back and switches to English.  “I mean, there’s no need to apologize.  I know why you’re here, I just - wasn’t expecting you at this particular moment.”

“You…were expecting me?”

“Well…not you exactly, but…the…concept? of you?  Jack’s soulmate.  We - His mother and I, we knew when he met them, they would show up here.”

“Oh…I…guess that makes sense?”

“I’m sorry we had to meet like this.  I feel terribly underdressed.”  The boy stares at him blankly until Bob cracks a smile.  Then, he breaks out into loud pleals of laughter.  His eyes are a warm brown and crinkle at the corners, his nose scrunches.  He looks like such a happy person.  Maybe happy enough that some of it will rub off on Jack.

Hockey boy stands up and shakes the hand that isn’t holding Bob’s towel up.  “Eric Bittle, pleasure to meet you.”

“Bob Zimmermann, nice to meet you too.”  Another good (although strange, very strange) sign: there isn’t a trace of recognition in the boy’s face at hearing the name “Bob Zimmermann”.  Of course Jack’s soulmate would be the only hockey player alive who had no clue who the fuck his father is.  

Eric hobbles out of the bathroom and sits against the wall in the hallway to take his skates off before making his way downstairs to the kitchen where Bob had said his wife Alicia was probably hanging out.  Sure enough, when he found the (gorgeous.  stunning.  drool-worthy.) kitchen, there was a  tall, blonde woman sitting cross-legged on one of the barstools, a cup of coffee in one hand and the other propping open a book.

“Hello,” he announces himself quietly.  She’s still startled, though not nearly as much as her husband had been.  When she turns and gets a look at him, she puts the coffee down and lets the pages of the book flop freely, unfolding herself from the seat.

“Hello.  You must be…”

“Eric.  Eric Bittle.”

“Right.  And -”

“Jack’s soulmate.  Yes ma’am, it would seem so.”  He smiles timidly, and is most definitely not expecting to be enveloped in a hug.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Zimmermann.”

“Well,” Alicia steps back and puts her hands on her hips, regarding Eric with a motherly smile.  “Can I get you a cup of coffee while we wait for Bob?”


Jack and Coach switch drivers every state.  Coach insists that each time, they take a photo in front of the Welcome sign.  Jack snaps a few pictures on his phone when he’s in the passenger seat.  When it’s his turn to drive, he tries to educate Coach on the finer points of hockey and the top NCAA teams, and Coach in turn tries to explain how the hell football works.


The Zimmermanns put Eric on a plane back to Massachusetts that night with his hockey gear stuffed in a duffel and wearing the least obviously early 2000s clothes they could find in Jack’s old dresser.  

“We wish we could go with you,” Alicia tells him, seeming genuinely sad to be sending him off alone.

“But Jack probably wouldn’t appreciate…intruding.  He likes to keep his life at school seperate from his life back home, you know?”  

“Of course, don’t worry a bit.  It was so nice meeting y’all.”


When the airport shuttle leaves Eric in front of his dorm, he’s exhausted from the trip and starting to stress out about seeing Jack.  His soulmate.  Who he’d barely seen in the first place, only a quick impression of tall and eyes before he’d been wormholed to Montreal.  He thinks he has to be seeing things when he first catches sight of his father’s old blue truck pulled up against the curb.  

He shakes himself and starts for the building, but from behind him, Coach’s voice calls,

“Dicky!  Er- Eric!”  Eric’s head spins a little with how fast he turns around.  Because there’s no way.  His dad hadn’t been able to get away from preseason long enough to drive Eric up to school in the first place.  There’s no way he’s - But the there’s Jack, sliding out of the passenger seat.  Because Coach had driven him.  All the way from Georgia.  Because he’s Eric’s soulmate.  Coach is hand-delivering the love of Eric’s life and he just…cannot with this day anymore.

So he focuses on the one tiny part that he can wrap his travel-weary brain around.  He walks up to Jack, who’s watching him raptly, eyes darting everywhere like he’s trying to make sure he memorizes everything before he disappears again, and says,

“I don’t think we managed to introduce ourselves properly last time.”

Jack laughs.

Strip

(A/N): I honestly love protective steve so much

Request: Can you write a StevexReader story where the reader is at college and has to work as stripper to get the money for it because her parents won’t pay it? And Steve sees her as Tony tracks him there one day to make him lose his virginity. And some guy starts to be rude to her and Steve comes to protect her?

Warnings: none

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor


Originally posted by master-of-duct-tape

   “You gotta get some experience Cap,” Tony mutters as he shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pocket as they pass by the retro Strip Club, one that had ladies dating back to all sorts of times. You had your classic 80′s rocker, the 90′s grunge, the 70′s disco, the 60′s flower child, and Tony’s personaly favorite the 1940′s showgirl. “It’s completely authentic Cap, it’ll be reminiscent!” 

   “I don’t remember any strip clubs back in my day, “ Steve mutters as he nearly throws open the door, the old piece of wood smacking against the equally old brick. With an angry sigh he stuffed his hands into his pants pocket as he trudged into the club, his gaze raking over all the different girls. It was obviously a break of some sort for they had all congregated in the front room, not in their individual blast from the past showrooms. All the girls, some of them the drapper 30′s girls straight to the early 2000′s ones all sat around, either smoking or drinking, maybe chatting with one another. Every pair of eyes land on the two as they walk in and Steve can practically feel them undressing him on the spot. 

   “Hey girls!” Tony calls out boisterously, waving flirtatiously to some of the strippers. “We could a little problem here,” 

   “We’re on lunch break, sorry,” One of the girls gives him a small smile as she takes a drag from her cigar. If Steve guessed right she looked like she belonged to the 70′s era. 

   “Would uh- this convince you otherwise?” Tony waves a wad of cash in the air, watching as the girls followed his hand hungrily. 

   “Hm…” One of the girls rose from her seat, showcasing her rather voluptuous form. “I’m sure I could work on Mr. Tall and Blonde for ya,” She sways her hips as she walks towards the two, stopping just in front of Steve. “He’s pretty cute if I do say so myself,” 

   “Tony-” Steve begins, casting his friend a side glance when he stopped, his eyes catching onto one of the girls lingering in a corner, sitting by herself but still there. The dark of the room almost shadowed them but Steve would recognize that face anywhere. “(Y/N),” Steve sounds just the tiniest bit confused, his brows furrowed as he gazed into the corner. Tony perks up a bit too, his gaze travelling over the girls until they landed on the shadowy figure in the corner. 

   “Well I’ll be damned,” Tony chuckles, stuffing his money away as he made his way towards (Y/N)’s table. “Looks like we got yourselves quite the showgirl,” Tony clicks his tongue as he takes a seat right next to (Y/N), giving them a sort of twisted smile. “How perfect for our very own Captain America,” 

    “Leave me alone Tony,” (Y/N) mutters, folding her arms over her chest as she huffed just a bit. Even in the poor lighting Steve could see how exhausted (Y/N) looked, not even her copious amount of makeup could cover up just how tired she was. 

   “I’ve got money (Y/N) and if you’re working here you obviously need it-” 

   “Tony,’ Steve warns, his tone light for now. 

   “I just want to know why our precious little (Y/N) is out here, working that pert little ass off for money when she doesn’t need it,” (Y/N) bites her lip, blushing just the tiniest bit. “You’re so conservative at the tower, always covering up, damn- I didn’t even know you looked this good,” Tony licks his lips, allowing his gaze to travel up and down (Y/N)’s exposed body. 

   “Tony, that’s enough,” Steve growls, his patience running thin. “(Y/N) must have a good reason for working here, right?’ Steve looks to her, hoping his gaze was sympathetic. (Y/N) looks at Steve with almost shame filled eyes as she nods her head. 

   “I need the money for college, I can’t pay with a regular job but working here is sufficing,” 

   “You know,” Tony leans forward, getting way too close to (Y/N) to Steve’s liking. “If you gave me my own private little show I’m sure I could pay you those college loans for ya,” Tony’s lips brush against (Y/N)’s ear and the flinch, her face taking up an expression of both horror and distaste. 

   “Tony, stop-” (Y/N) whispers, attempting to push away from the man but he remained steadfast, quickly grabbing onto (Y/N) to keep her in place. That was all Steve needed to rip Tony away from (Y/N) and shove him against the wall, his elbow digging into his throat. 

   “When a woman tells you to stop you better fucking stop, got that?” Steve growls, pushing his elbow against Tony’s neck even more. The man coughs and chokes, clawing at Steve’s arm to let him go. Somewhere behind him the girls are all whispering about Steve and Tony and no doubt (Y/N) as well. “Do you understand Stark?” Tony nods weakly, clutching at Steve’s arm fruitlessly. With an angry grunt Steve let Tony fall to the floor, instead turning to (Y/N) to ask if she was okay. 

   “Are you okay?” Steve asks, his tone much lighter than it had been a few seconds ago. (Y/N) nods meekly, pursing her lips as she does. 

   “Wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened to me,” (Y/N) smiles sadly and Steve can nearly feel his heart break. 

   “When do you get off work doll?” The nickname slides from his lips easily, almost unconsciously. (Y/N) smiles just a bit, rubbing at her arms in the chill of the club. 

   “A few minutes actually,” 

   “How bout you get dressed and I can take you out to that cafe you like so much?” (Y/N) smiles even more as she nods, her spirits slowly but surely rising. 

   “I’d love that,” (Y/N) brushes past Steve, stopping by his side to give his cheek one little peck, one that had Steve’s cheeks ablaze and his heart hammering. 

   “Thanks Stevie,” (Y/N) whispers, their lips brushing against his cheek with each word. “I think I owe you your own private show sometime,” Steve’s cheeks flush even more, and he swears his heart presses against his chest with how fast it’s beating. 

   “Let me take you on a few dates first,” Steve smiles sheepishly. (Y/N) only smiles, nodding their head as they do. 

   “Cafe is date number one, bookstore is the second one next week, that okay with you?” Steve nods, a little unbelieving chuckle falling from his lips. 

   “That’s perfectly fine with me,” 

How do I tell you I love you?

My first h2ovanoss, be gentle with me please!

Relationships: main- h2ovanoss, side- ohmtoonz

Words: 7,220


It’s Luke’s fault, really, it is.

Jon prides himself on being a good friend, the best pal anyone can ask for (although some might argue he’s terrible at listening and his imagination gets people into trouble more times than it should be possible to experience in someone’s lifetime- and that’s only coming from Marcel), but his shoulder is always available for a good cry and he would gladly go pick you up at 4 in the morning if asked to.

So, it’s with a horrible and sickening feeling, truly, it is, to have to say no to Luke when his friend asks him for a really fucking important favor.

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Heated Weather, Crimson Blush (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Title: Heated Weather, Crimson Blush  [ REQUESTED by @wildeone97​ ]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Genre: Fluff

MASTERLIST

Hi sweetie, I don’t know if this is what you’re looking for but because the request was so open ended, I just went with what flowed for me. Hope you enjoy it!

The unforgiving summer weather has finally taken its toll on the residents of the Avengers Tower. Everyone was in a sluggish trance every time they came back from the outside, and all they wanted to do was relax on the plush couches under the tower’s blasting cold air conditioning.

The speedster of the group, Pietro, couldn’t stand spending another day just sitting around and suggested to the team, with surprising enthusiasm despite the sweltering heat, that what they needed was to appreciate the sun and enjoy a day out at the beach.

There were hums of approval that got drowned out by the groans of displeasure sounding throughout the room. (Y/N) visibly brightened up at the suggestion and her eye sparkled with excitement; the long summer days taking a toll on her.

On the end of the couch, was a scowling Bucky Barnes. The serum made his body temperature considerably higher than the lot - sans Steve, and the heat was making him crankier than normal. The mere idea of having to leave the cooling compound and make his way to bask under the sun was unappealing at best.

With that thought, the frown on his face deepened until he managed to steal a glance at the eager look (Y/N) sported. The frown lightened up slightly, a fond smile creeping its way to his face.

“C'mon you oldies, just imagine the bikinis Nat, Wanda and (Y/N) would be wearing!” Pietro voiced out with a chuckle, speeding his way back to his room to pack. Bucky couldn’t help but let his mind wander into the forbidden territory of (Y/N) wearing one of those pretty little numbers that dames of the 20s wore. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he tried to shake the image from his mind.


The journey to the beach was fun and lighthearted albeit more than a little chaotic with the heroes filling up three full cars. Tony’s car was blasting tracks after tracks of ACDC; Steve’s was playing music from the 40s and Nat’s had playlists of Pop songs of the 2000s. (Y/N) and Wanda rode with Nat at her request or more like demand, despite Pietro constantly pestering (Y/N) to ride with him on Tony’s car much to Bucky distaste.

When Nat threw her dirty sock at Pietro for pestering (Y/N) and shut him down, pulling (Y/N) to her car, Bucky couldn’t suppress the satisfied smirk and silently thanked Nat for pulling (Y/N) away from the speedster.


(Y/N) eyes fleeted several times towards Steve’s car that sat Bucky, Sam, and Bruce unknowingly. The fourth time she stole a look at the sleek black car, Nat called her out and said with a smirk, “So (Y/N), who is it that so interesting in the car over?”, only to earn a red-faced (Y/N) that now only looked right in front for the rest of the car ride.

The trio got out of their car as Tony and Steve’s car pulled into their parking spaces. All three had on their cover-ups, sunglasses perched on their noses and rummaged through the trunk of the car for the beach-going essentials that they have packed.

(Y/N) grabbed the basket she has filled with goodies that she’s made bright and early in the morning with one arm and the other held her beach bag. She stumbled slightly and Bucky, whose eyes haven’t left (Y/N), caught her before she fell and took the picnic basket on from her and threw her a charming smile that left her warm in the face.


The entire group of child-like heroes was running amok on the beach, leaving (Y/N) to settle the food and lay the beach towels and Bucky who spurted out his overused excuse of hating the sun to stay near the girl.

Bucky and (Y/N) aren’t particularly close in the sense that they were alway too shy to start a conversation with the other or couldn’t hold a two sentence talk without stuttering and going pink. However, they probably knew a lot more about each other than they let on considering how much they secretly glanced at each other.

So when (Y/N) grabbed her bottle of sunscreen and looked over to Nat and Wanda that were a distance away playing beach volleyball with the others, Bucky knew she needed someone to help but was too embarrassed to ask him.

Bucky took a deep breath and was just about to offer (Y/N) his help when Pietro sped over, grabbing the sunscreen from her, his trademark smirk on his lip as he said, “Printsessa, you look like you need some help with this?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed at the Sokovian that was running his mouth and was just about to stop him when a volleyball hit Pietro on his head. An exasperated Wanda came walking towards her brother, pulling his away by ear as she threw Bucky a little wink and tossed the bottle of sunscreen to him.

“Uh, um, Do you, uh, want me to um, help?” Bucky stuttered, lifting the sunscreen up to (Y/N).

“Yeah, sure. Um, thanks.” (Y/N) replied, her blush evident, dusting her cheeks.

(Y/N) started removing her crocheted white coverup causing Bucky to avert his eyes in an attempt to be the gentleman he was.

“Uhm, Bucky? I’m good.” came (Y/N)’s voice, making the soldier turned to face her.

Bucky’s line of sight fell on the girl lay face down on the beach towel before her causing him to squeeze the poor bottle so hard, the plastic contorted into half.

God, you must be testing me.

Bucky gingerly spread the sunscreen on (Y/N) back, his fingers fleeting around the tiny strings tied around her back in a little cross.

This string leaves absolutely nothing to my imagination, for goodness sakes. If I just slip and tug at it a little… No no no, James Buchanan Barnes, mama raised you better!“ Bucky chastised himself in his mind, finishing up his work on her back.


(Y/N) Has left Bucky’s side after an hour or so has settled herself with a group of young children, building sandcastles together. Bucky had his gaze set on her, and it hasn’t moved since she left his side.

A fond smile hung on his face, as he allowed himself to daydream about how wonderfully contented he would be if they would eventually have children together, playing at the beach during the dreary summer days.

A loud chorus of laughter snapped him out of his reverie, and he saw (Y/N) speaking to the group of children pointing over to his direction. She then made her way over to him, Wanda by her side.

"We’re going to go grab some smoothies for everyone, would you like one?” (Y/N) questioned, a radiant smile showing.

“Uh, yeah, sure that’d be great doll,” Bucky answered hastily, almost as though he was afraid (Y/N) would take back her offer. A small nod and smile, and the two girls were on their way.


A couple of minutes later, (Y/N) and Wanda came back with their hands filled with cups of icy smoothies only to be met with empty beach towels. The metal armed soldier that was lounging there is nowhere to be seen.

(Y/N) lifted her sunglasses and placed it on her head keeping her hair away from her face. The glaring sun made her squint at the scene in front of her. Buried in sand, was Bucky, his head the only thing visible as the group of children that were playing with (Y/N) before, giggled and used their tiny hands to pile sand atop the soldier.

She made her way to the giggling children and attempted to stifle her laughter.

“Sergeant! Sergeant! We’ll bury you in sand, and you’ll try and get out alright?” came a young boy’s voice.

“Yeah yeah! You’re strong! You’ll get out in no time!” another child continued.

Bucky noticed (Y/N) coming over and sent her a pleading look, and mouthed “Help me!”. Though, the soft smile on his face giving himself away. It has been awhile since Bucky’s felt whole and this was one of those rare moments.

(Y/N) smirked a little and kneeled down next to him, a surge of confidence filling her as the soldier helplessly stay buried under sand.

No can do sergeant. I’m sure you can do it. Here’s something for good luck.” she replied, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of Bucky’s nose.


Tagging: @itsanerdlife @buckysmusculararm @klaus-is-king @dryerpet @katbird787 @captainfbffangirl99 @thatawkwardtinyperson @cassandras-musings @cleverwatson125 @universal-glitch @draconicuchiha @frickin-bats @smile-sugar @ryverpenrad @buckyywiththegoodhair @buckyappreciationsociety @17marvelousfreak @seeyainanothalifebrotha @winchesterandpie @northscorpio @winter-is-ending @feelmyroarrrr @marvelouslyloki @melconnor2007 @fab-notfat  @musichowler 

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All Access

Originally posted by hoseokxx

Summary: You’re at Kcon standing a few rows back from the stage enjoying the show.  You were most excited for BTS, but Monsta X had stolen your attention too.  Especially the blonde muscular one.  But the one you were really here for was Kim Namjoon, Rap Monster, God of Destruction and you were gonna let him destroy you if given the chance.

Word Count: 2000+

Tags:  SMUT!  Nothing else to be said, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!!

Today was the day, KCON LA!  You’d been waiting and saving for a year, and had picked your outfit out 6 weeks prior.  Black pleather skater skirt, black camisole and white crop top hoodie, knee high socks and red Converse.  Simple, comfortable and nymphette sexy.  And luckily you got there early enough to get a good spot in front of the stage.

As you stood there singing and dancing along you were getting more and more excited.  With every group that finished you were that much closer to seeing BTS.  Monsta X was up, you’d seen there videos and heard their songs, but you never got into them.  But they were HOT!  No denying that, you were definitely reconsidering your choice of not stanning them.  Especially the muscular Blonde one, the others were cute but he was sexy, and collared.  Too bad, if he was a dominant you wouldn’t waste a second pouncing.

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Writer’s Block 4.1

So I’m taking a different approach to finishing this story. Instead of writing a monster chapter, it’s easier for me to do chunks of it at the moment. I’ll post every 2000 words here, and when it’s complete I’ll post it as one continuous chapter on the archives. Just seems easier for me. Hope you like this one! 4.2 isn’t far behind… Let me know what you think!


Originally posted by couplenotes

What the fuck am I reading? I toss the book aside and try to forget about the alien species commingling with human women as they take over the world with their disappearing magic lube, never-ending sexual appetite and nanocytes that heal the bruises they leave behind from their love-making. If it can be called that.

None of that garbage is going to help me write the next scene. The scene. The one I have zero experience with. Every time I sit down to write it I get nervous and edgy. But I need something written down that at least Peeta can make changes to. He won’t be much help to me this week since he’s busy finishing up an art project that’s due at the same time. I told him not to worry, that I would wrap things up on this end so he could focus elsewhere.

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1. Fifty Two (M)

sehun/baekhyun x reader, 19.6k, soulmate au; you have the same scars as your soulmate

warning: mentions of death, self harm, sex and alcohol use

“It was…” you choke a sob through your sentence and Sehun can feel the burning on his knees where you’re digging into broken glass before him. He wants to stop you but he can’t even talk to you right now – unless he wants to lose his final moments with you. “You were…this whole time? Sehunie, please. You can’t leave me. No, Sehun. No, you can’t.”

Originally posted by intokai

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ok (1918 words)


cas leaves after being been human for three days and seven hours (not that dean’s been counting).

it’s not a big announcement, either. cas doesn’t own much, it all fits in a backpack, so when he’s slowly making his way to the garage of course dean at first thinks that cas is – whatever, doing some groceries shopping or getting pizza or burgers. he definitely doesn’t think about cas leaving.

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Candy Man

Genre: 50s!AU; Fluff; Humor 

Pairing: Greaser!S. Coups x Black Reader

Warnings:  Lots of profanity; Racism (but nothing too descriptive and no slurs)

Author’s Note: I was listening to early 2000s hits and “Candyman” by Christina Aguilera came on, so this happened. I also recently watched “A Bronx Tale”, even though that’s more 60s, but I digress.  Greaser!S. Coups gives me all the feels.

     “Ayo, Coups!  You mind spottin’ me?,” Mingyu asked, gesturing towards an apple on the produce vendor’s cart.  “I ain’t spottin’ shit; I lent you money last week.”  “Fine,” the younger male snickered, plucking the bright red treat and taking a bite out of it before his superior could tell him to put it back.  

     “You better pay for that, you little thief!,” the elderly owner exclaimed.  “Cool it, Mr. Jung.  We don’t want no trouble,” S. Coups said, clearly amused at the thought of this old man threatening his able-bodied friend.  Taking a coin out of his pocket, he flicked it in the air, making it an easy catch for the gray haired shop keep.  

     “You’re alright, Choi.  Those other ones you hang out with?  Not so much.”  “Eh, what can ‘ya do?,” the black haired boy shrugged with a sly grin before running off to join his friends down the street.  “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!”

     “Have a nice day, Mr. Jung!,” Mingyu mocked as S. Coups caught up.  “We don’t want no trouble, Mr. Jung!,” Vernon chimed in with the same tone.  “Shut the fuck up, Dipshits!,” S. Coups laughed.  

     “You should thank him for covering for you. Being a jackass doesn’t get you anywhere or anything,” Wonwoo informed the two younger boys.  “It got me this apple,” Mingyu countered, taking a bite for emphasis.   “And it almost got you a cap in the ass.  I swear Mr. Jung is packin’,” S. Coups said with a nudge to the boy’s side.  

     “Wonwoo with his books and you with your manners think you’re so fucking great, huh?” “Well, I can’t speak for Wonwoo, but my manners are what got me a game of backseat bingo with Hyojin last weekend while you were at home twiddlin’ your dick,” the eldest smirked, causing everyone else to laugh.

     More playfully careless banter was exchanged between the four friends as they approached the bus stop.  “Alright, now if they say anything to you, don’t respond,” S. Coups ordered, upon seeing a few white kids waiting there.  “I ain’t no candyass, Coups,” Vernon muttered.  “Don’t say another fucking thing.  You almost got us killed last time.”

     The four boarded the bus in silence, ignoring the few white kids that made snide comments or spat slurs.  “They’ve run out of original material.  Ain’t that a bite,” Wonwoo said under his breath.  

     “The fuck did you just say?,” one blonde haired boy asked.  “You heard me.”  Before the blonde boy could answer, the bus door opened again and a girl with brown skin and curly hair walked on, clutching a few grocery bags to her chest.  By the time she made it halfway to the back, the four Asian boys had become old news.  Even more people shouted at her while making obscene hand gestures, but she simply kept her eyes on the back window.  

     S. Coups’ eyes followed her from the moment she stepped on until the moment she sat down at the back of the bus.  He scanned over her features before moving down her body, only to be interrupted by a pluck on the head snapping him out of his trance.  

     “What are you looking at?,” Vernon asked.  “Huh? Oh, nothing,” S. Coups replied, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket and unwrapping it.  “You were lookin’ at that black chick, weren’t you?,” Mingyu said, already knowing the answer.  “Maybe so,” he shrugged, popping the candy into his mouth.  

     “You’re keen on a black girl?,” Wonwoo asked.  “My god, guys, she’s black not a fuckin’ leper.  And yeah, I mean…She’s beautiful.  And you guys saw how well she handled that racist bullshit.  She’s classy.”  “The fuck do you know about class?,” Mingyu laughed.  “More than you since I actually go to mine. Like I was saying, she’s-”  “Black.  She’s black, Coups,” Vernon interjected.  “You don’t like it when people judge the way you look, do you?”  “I’m not judging her, I’m just saying you’re asking for trouble.  Mrs. Choi would just about drop dead.”  “Yeah, well you said that when I got my piercings and tattoos, but her heart’s still beatin’ ain’t it?”  

     The bus came to a sharp stop and their topic of discussion arose from her seat and walked towards the front of the bus to leave.  She made swift eye contact with S. Coups, and he swore on his great grandfather’s grave that she smiled at him.  He got up as she passed him and turned to look at his friends, giving them a salute and sideways smile.  “You’re joking,” Mingyu deadpanned.  “Nah, I’ll leave the jokes to you Bozos,” the oldest responded with a laugh before leaving the group.  He gave them a small wave as they rode by him and tossed the stick from his candy on the ground.

     He turned around to find the girl struggling with one of her bags.  Rushing to her side, he used his hand to support the bottom of it, startling her a bit.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.  It just looked like you needed some help,” he smiled.  “…Thanks,” she hesitantly replied. “I can carry one if you want.  They look kind of heavy.”  “Thank you kindly, but I can handle it,” she said defiantly.  Taking another step forward, she tripped over a rock, causing an apple to fall from one of her bags.  S. Coups caught it and placed it back on top.  “You can handle it, huh?” he chuckled.  

    She stopped in her tracks and looked at him almost incredulously.  “Why are you being nice to me?”  “Why wouldn’t I be?”  She simply rolled her eyes with a scoff.  “Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not like that.”  She searched his face for any sign of deception or dishonesty and couldn’t seem to find one, so she reluctantly allowed him to help her.  

     “You got a name?,” he asked, walking beside her.  “_____.”  “_____; that’s pretty.  I like it,” he smiled at the way her name rolled off his tongue.  “What’s yours?,” she asked in response.  “Coups.  S. Coups.”  “What kind of name is that?,” she giggled.  “It’s my kind of name.  What, you don’t like it?”  She shook her head, laughing at his mockingly offended expression.  “Well, my real name’s Seungcheol, but let’s keep that between us.  Only you can call me that.”  “Well, don’t I feel special.”  “You should,” he chuckled.


     “Hey, we’ve been walking for a bit. Not that I mind the extra time with you, but why’d you get off the bus so far from your block?”  “Bus doesn’t ride through black neighborhoods.  I ‘spose you ain’t too keen on walking through one, neither?”  “I’m keen on you, so I’d follow you anywhere,” he smirked.  “You ‘bout as slick as that grease you slather your hair in,” she laughed.

     About a block later, she stopped again.  “Well, there’s my place right on that corner.”  “You don’t want me to walk you to your door, do you?”  She paused for a moment before answering, “My mama would kill me if you strolled up to the door.”  “I can’t even be upset, since mine would do the same if she saw you.  It’s because I’m Korean, right?”  “No, she’d say you look like a hoodlum,” she began, gesturing towards his outfit.  “But yours would say the same about me, so I guess we’re even.” “So, what if I wanna see you again?”  “Like when?”  “Like all the time, but we can start with tonight,” he replied with a crooked smile.  She bit her lip in thought and S. Coups took note of how pretty her lips were.  “My mama’s usually in bed by the time the street lights come on”  “Great, I’ll pick you up at eight thirty.”


     _____ sat on her bed, waiting and thinking about all the things that could go wrong.  But just as the list got too long, she remembered that smile of his.  Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was eight twenty-five.  She hopped up from her bed and took a look in the mirror, fluffing her hair and applying a coat of lip balm.  Then she quietly made her way downstairs and out the door. 

     S. Coups popped another lollipop out of his mouth to greet her.  “You made it!,” he smiled.  “What, did you think I would punk out?”  “I don’t know, but from what you told me, your mama’s kind of intimidating.  A real ‘no bs’ kinda gal.”  “Well, she is, but she worked a double yesterday, so she’s knocked out.  I wouldn’t chance anything by staying out too late, though.”  “Don’t worry.  I’ll have you home well before she wakes up for her next shift.  Quick question…You afraid of motorcycles?”  


     “Careful, Sweetheart.  You hold me any tighter and I just might propose,” S. Coups laughed.  “I wouldn’t be holding you so tight if you weren’t driving like a bat out of hell,” _____ replied, voice cracking when they hit a speed bump.  “Sorry ‘bout that. I hope your eyes are open, though, since you’re supposed to be giving me directions.”  “Oh, right…,” she muttered, opening her eyes to take a look around.  “Make a left at the next light.”

     After a few more minutes, the vehicle came to a stop in a dimly lit neighborhood.  S. Coups got off the bike, locking it into place before offering a hand to his date.  Normally, she would have declined, but she was still a bit dizzy, so she accepted the gesture.  “Where are we?,” he asked.  “You’ll see,” she smiled, tugging him down a small hill to a slightly worn down building.

     She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone opened an eye level slot.  “Password?,” questioned the pair of dark brown eyes. “SlimJim,” she answered confidently.  The door opened to reveal a black boy around their age.  He smiled at her but gave S. Coups a strange look as she pulled him through the room and down a flight of stairs to what he figured was the basement. The room was packed with black kids, all dancing and having a good time, the jukebox blasting the latest tunes.  A few came to greet _____, and he got a couple stares every now and then, but overall, nobody paid him much attention.  

     Unwrapping a lollipop, he watched in amusement as _____ got pulled to the middle of the dance floor by two of her friends.  She was one hell of a dancer, and quite the social butterfly; he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She made everyone around her smile…even him.  

     “You aren’t gonna stand here all night are you?,” she asked, jogging back over to him during a song change.  “I’m not much of a dancer,” he replied, shifting the candy to one side of his mouth as he leaned against a table.  “That doesn’t matter to me. I brought you here to have fun.”  “I don’t know…,” he trailed off, contemplating whether or not he wanted to embarrass himself.  “C’mon, Candy Man.  It’s just one dance,” she teased, gently tugging on the front of his shirt.  “One dance?”  “That’s all I want.  Besides, I’m sure that’s all you could handle,” she smirked.   “Oh, really?,” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  Crossing her arms, she replied, “Mhm.”  Without breaking eye contact, he slid his leather jacket off and placed it over a chair.  Taking a few steps back, she beckoned to him with her finger, that same playful smirk still gracing her features.


     “So, I was that bad, huh?,” he asked as they walked back up the hill.  “What?  No, of course not.  Why would you think that?”  “Your friends were laughing.  They thought I was a total spaz, didn’t they?”  “…Well, yeah, but they thought you were a cute spaz,” she giggled. “I’ll take it.”

     Noticing a slight chill shake her shoulders, he wordlessly took off his jacket and draped it over them.  She simply smiled, knowing it was pointless to try to convince him that she didn’t need it.  “Thanks.”  “Don’t mention it,” he replied, nonchalantly sticking another lollipop into his mouth.  “I swear you always got one of them suckers hangin’ from your mouth.”  “Better than a cig.  I quit a while back” he shrugged.  “Can’t argue with that.  My friend told me kissing a boy who smokes is like kissing an ash tray,” she said, slightly leaning on his bike.  “Oh, really?,” he asked with a raised eyebrow as he stepped closer to her.  “Mhm,” she mused, gently pulling the lollipop out of his mouth.  After looking into her eyes for a moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, tilting his head a little to deepen the kiss.  

     “What did that taste like?,” he asked as he pulled away.  “…Candy,” she smiled.  “What did it taste like to you?”  “Heaven,” he smirked, causing her to laugh and playfully roll her eyes.  “These things must be the reason you do all that sweet talkin’,” she said, holding it out to him.  He plucked it from her fingers and responded, “Maybe so,” before popping it back into his mouth.    

     Realizing that it was getting really late, S. Coups decided to take _____ home.  After a short ride back, he insisted on dropping her off at her door since everyone was asleep, anyway.  

     She took off the jacket and went to hand it to him, but he just raised his hand to stop her.  “Give it back to me on our second date.”  “And what makes you think you’re getting a second date?”  “That kiss,” he said, biting his bottom lip as he watched a blush tint her cheeks. 

     “Well, you have until then to practice your dance moves,” she quickly recovered.  “Will do.  Next weekend; you and me on that dance floor.”  “Will I see you again before that?”  “I’ll be around.  Why, would you miss me?,” he teased.  “No,” she scoffed, folding her arms.  “Well, that’s a shame, ‘cuz I’d miss you,” his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as he spoke. “Sweet as candy; slick as grease,” she chuckled, shaking her head.  “Yeah, but you like it,” he smirked, leaning in again.  “Maybe so,” she quipped, giving him a light peck on the lips.  He released her and said, “I should probably get out of here before the parentals notice I’m still out.  Goodnight, Sweetheart.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out yet another lollipop and held it out to her.  With a grin and a light laugh, she accepted it.  “Goodnight, Candy Man.”


     “So, nothing happened?,” Wonwwo asked.  “Nothing,” S. coups answered, tossing a white stick on the ground.  “Look at that shit-eatin’ grin!  He’s fuckin’ lying!,” Mingyu laughed.  

     The four boys stopped at the produce cart again the next day.  No matter how much poking and prodding his three friends did, they couldn’t get S. Coups to describe his night with his new love interest.  

     “Aye, Mr. Jung!  Can I get one of them roses over there, please?,” he asked the owner.  “Sure can.  For a special lady, I assume?”  The young boy simply winked and tossed a coin to the elderly man.  “Thanks, Mr. Jung,” he said before continuing to walk towards the bus stop.

     “’Nothing happened’ my ass!  Tell us what went down!,” Vernon snickered, pushing his friend’s arm.

     “It’s none of your fuckin’ business,” S. Coups chuckled, pulling another piece of candy from his pocket.

Karaoke Night | Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Requested: Yes!

Requests: OPEN

17. “I can’t determine if you’re drunk or you’re just being plain weird.”

60. “Is it just my eyes or are you really glowing right now?”

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing

Summary: Team Karaoke nights are the best nights. Fluff.

Word Count: 1560


“Spencer Reid, you will get your ass up on stage with me right now and sing *NSYNC with me or I swear to all things holy I will snap all of your Doctor Who DVDs in half!” You laugh, hanging tightly to his arm, causing the rest of your teammates to laugh loudly. Team outings were always fun, but team outings at the karaoke bar were the best by far.

           You had been with the team for a couple years now, and they were probably the best years of your life. Despite the atrocities you witnessed every day you made friends with, in your opinion, some of the best people on the planet. Girls nights or shopping sprees with JJ, Emily, and Garcia were a regular thing, you often times babysat for Hotch when he had meetings just requiring unit chiefs, you and Morgan played each other’s wing man when you’d hit up the bars after work, and you and Rossi bonded over both of your love for scotch and Italian food. But there was one person that you wouldn’t exactly call yourself ‘close’ with, and that was Spencer Reid.

It definitely was not for lack of trying though, you went out of your way frequently to try and bridge the gap of “work friends” and “teammates” with “close friends outside work,” but, much to your disappointment, your efforts were fruitless. You thought you tried everything, you invited him several times to join you at comic con and to a guest lecture at a local university that was being given by your favorite sociologist, which you figured he would enjoy because of his degree in it. You refused to shush him when he would ramble on about something he was passionate about because you felt that no one should be shamed for the things they love. You tried everything in your power to let the genius know that you wanted to be friends and get to know him better but every time you reached out you were always shot down with a quick, sputtered excuse while he refused to look you in the eye. After expressing your concerns about the situation on a drunken night out with the girls of the team they admitted that they had noticed his odd behavior and quickly jumped to the conclusion that it was simply because he was harboring feelings for you and didn’t know how to go about behaving around you, but you shot that theory down instantly. ‘Why would Dr. Spencer Reid like you?’ You thought.

           But now, as you grinned up at him, holding tight to his arm, with the rest of the team laughing, and liquid courage swimming in your veins, those thoughts were nowhere to be seen. After more encouraging from both you and the team, Spencer finally caved and agreed to sing a hit from the early 2000s boy band. You distinctly remember later that your favorite words of encouragement being from Hotch, saying, “C’mon, Reid, you got the hair for it.” But that’s beside the point, really.

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Just Friends

Anon asked: Taeyong angst with the girl wanting him and him not being aware of it! Thank uuuuuu

You wish you could be more than just friends with Taeyong. But you knew that’s all you were ever going to be.

Can 300% guarantee this is not what you wanted but. here you go…? enjoy…?

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London’s Calling

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 ||

Chapter Eleven: Mamma Know’s Best

Word Count: 2000

☏ ☏ ☏ ☏

Topanga had left work early, excited to come home and share something with her daughter but all excitement fades when, unbeknown to Riley, Topanga overhears the end of the call with Lucas. The part about how she’s struggled with the move and of course the part where Riley asks him to stop calling.  Hearing Riley’s frustrated revelation about how she’s hated her new school broke Topanga’s heart. Especially since the reason she was so excited had something to do with that very fact.

Gently Topanga knocks on Riley’s door and asks permission to enter. Riley invites her in and Topanga finds Riley cross legged on her bed.

“What are the chances you didn’t hear any of that?” Riley asks sheepishly.

“Very slim,” Topanga gives her daughter a sympathetic smile.

Riley takes a deep breath and braces herself for more tears. Lately, she feels like all she does is cry. Still, she’s somewhat relieved to finally talk things through with her mother, even if it meant destroying the image of a perfect life she’s tried to create around herself. 

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All-Access (M)

Originally posted by ksjknj

Summary: You’re at Kcon standing a few rows back from the stage enjoying the show.  You were most excited for BTS, but Monsta X had stolen your attention too.  Especially the blonde muscular one.  But the one you were really here for was Kim Namjoon, Rap Monster, God of Destruction and you were gonna let him destroy you if given the chance.

Word Count: 2000+

Tags:  SMUT!  Nothing else to be said, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!!

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North of 96th Street (Usnavi x Reader) (Part Three)

Summary: Another day on the barrio

Tags: @defenestrate-yourself-please
@superwholockbooknerd526
@nithsdalian
@iconicallywrong
@ordinaryornate
@hamfamhamfam
@pixel-pisces

Warnings: Toxic relationships, Usnavi throwing fig newtons at Sonny
________________________________________________________

Your morning started out nice enough. You could hear soft music playing in the distance, it was one Isa had played for you many times. You woke up in your small bed, you’d taken over Carlos’s old room. You ran a hand through your hair and looked out the window. The sun hadn’t risen yet, you sighed and got up. You looked through the clothes you’d packed. Most of them things your mother had given you, but you found a few things you could work in. You pulled on your jeans and a plain blue t shirt and put your hair up in a messy bun. You grabbed the pop tarts you’d brought with you and walked out.

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Rhetorical Ink Reviews: “Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales”

**SEA-WORTHY SPOILERS AHEAD**

So, to preface this review, I have always been a HUGE Pirates of the Caribbean fan; the first film came out almost 15 YEARS ago (if you can believe it), and my friends and I were hooked on it from the get-go! I know a lot of people have distaste for Dead Man’s Chest and At World’s End, but I honestly am okay with both of these movies.

I’m eventually going to do a video response related to this, but I did not like On Stranger Tides, so I was leery of going into this movie…so, I didn’t spoil myself very much at all with this film. That said, there are things to like about this movie, and a lot I am frustrated with. These are…

MY TOP TEN THOUGHTS ON
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES:

Originally posted by animations-daily

10. I am okay with the start of the film setting up Henry Turner’s character. He’s sweet, inquisitive, and has studied various curses of the sea his whole life. It makes a lot of sense, given his father’s curse to stay away for ten years at a time. His character is determined but kindhearted and the set up of him meeting his father at the beginning sets up his motivation and helps to establish his character…it perhaps doesn’t help that he looks and acts similar to Orlando Bloom SO much, but then again, like father, like son

Originally posted by antibatty

9. I am also very much on board with Carina’s character set up as well! She is smart, talented, and crafty. I like the angle that she is an astronomer and a woman of science – the idea of pairing her with a man that has grown up surrounded by the supernatural was one that I thought was a great choice. I actually liked her character a bit more than Kiera Knightley’s Elizabeth Swan; I just wish we’d had more development of her in the movie.

Originally posted by only-johnny-depp

8. The villain, Captain Salazar, both worked and didn’t work for me. The CGI hair was something I really didn’t like in the first trailer…it looked like it was almost “unfinished” or something experimental with 3D. However, the CGI did end up growing on me, the designs and sharks are so intricate and interesting. And at times, Salazar’s character makes a lot of sense and works as a revenge story (which I will talk about below).

At times, though, Salazar, played by Javier Borden, is hard to understand…his accent, while being menacing, is also hard to understand in the final battle, which just makes his character seem more odd in those final scenes. Overall, he’s an okay villain, but I felt nearly everything about him was too rushed and not fleshed out, like Davy Jones was for example.

Originally posted by hellomadzstuff

7. Okay, so as I mentioned above, when Salazar is given time to tell his backstory, the flashback works pretty well. I am NOT a fan of the CGI “time travel” face makeup they’ve been apply to actors and actresses (a la Princess Leia, Grand Moth Tarkin, Ego…), but  man, it’s probably at its best here with “young Jack.” The voice doesn’t quite match up, but is it sad that I want movies of “young Jack’s” adventures now? That flashback worked pretty well for me.

Originally posted by depplicious

6. What doesn’t quite work is the pacing of the story. ESPECIALLY the third act. Once we get to where Carina is leading us to the map, the story rushes SO MUCH. Part of what I like about the other Pirates of the Caribbean films is that the movie takes its time to set up the lore; it goes slowly in creating the mythos around the supernatural that it all leads to a good payoff.

Here? We get the island of the trident, the actual getting of the trident, a final….”battle?”, a death of a character, AND a resolution all in what is basically twenty minutes of a two and a half hour film. Why did they have to rush this? They are obviously setting up for another film, so why not pull a “Dead Man’s Chest” and end with them hitting the island? Then, pick up the next film with Carina, Barbossa, and Jack on the island while poor Henry is stuck with Salazar’s crew…you could set it up, spend a little more time letting us get to know the new characters, and then have a film after this that goes into the mythos more and explores the “possession” of Henry a little more too…I just think they had so much POTENTIAL here and it felt wasted.

Originally posted by depplicious

5. Jack, at times, is himself and pulls off a good performance. When he’s more serious, it’s like we’re back in the early 2000′s, having a great ol’ time with the Captain…but especially in the beginning, he’s a little “too” Mad Hatter/ Willy Wonka in his performance and just seems….”off.” Maybe the divorce he was going through had something to do with it. It is good to see Gibbs back in this movie; Gibbs is one of those characters that never ages and always is fun to have in these movies…he’s the ultimate side character of the series! Well, almost the ultimate side character. That role mainly belongs to….

Originally posted by astc

4. And yes, we have Barbossa’s character…end. I was a little bummed about that at first, because it’s Barbossa! How could we lose this titular character? And then, I got angry, because of how rushed everything with him was. We are led to believe from the getgo that Carina has “daddy issues” and wants to locate her father; lo and behold, Barbossa lets it slip to Jack that HE is her actual father…it’s a small sea after all!

That wouldn’t have bothered me if it hadn’t been so forced and obvious…Carina even looks a lot like Geoffrey Rush in the eyes. I guess that the relationship ends up okay with me; there’s even a touching moment when she realizes that he’s her father, and I was genuinely on board with it. The “tattoo moment” honestly was sweet, and Geoffrey Rush sells it for me.

But then they just HAVE to kill him off…and I’m going to be honest, Barbossa swinging in on that anchor almost made me laugh out loud…as in a Darth Vader saying “Noooooooo!” laugh out loud. It just looked ridiculous. Points to the film for emotionally investing me later on in that scene with Barbossa and Carina, but you really didn’t “have” to kill him off, especially after he just learned about his only child! Ah well, I think Geoffrey Rush was like Harrison Ford and said, “Please kill me off this franchise!” Which is sad, because he’s been such a great part of it and it’ll lose something without him…

Originally posted by dailypotc

3. Unlike Geoffrey Rush, though, Orlando Bloom and Kiera Knightley have BARELY aged…well, Orlando has aged, but we use cool CGI barnacles to mask all that, you know. Still, they are finally reunited at the end of the film, and it did feel good as a fan to see them together again, though again, some more set up for the payoff would have made it sweeter. Damn, Henry, you got some good genes, though.

Originally posted by entertainmentweekly

Originally posted by mrsemmajones

2. There is so much visually that is great to look at; the “Island of Poseidon” is simply gorgeous and the underwater scene was breathtaking…it’s just all SO rushed that you have no real time to enjoy it. I really wish this had been two films so we could have had more character development, more set up of the plot…it’s so exposition heavy at times that you just end up checking your phone, wondering when the next scene is. And who wants to do that in a Pirates movie?! The sad thing is it’s not as long as other Pirates of the Caribbean films, which makes me wonder all the more why we didn’t just expand more in places and leave more to a later film…maybe I need to do a video to explain my thoughts.

Originally posted by depplicious

1. Overall, I left the movie conflicted. The 10-years-ago me would have probably loved this movie, because I would have gone home and instantly wanted to write fan fictions about what I just saw. And there’s a large part of me that still wants to do that to add on to what I thought was missing…but still, there is a part of me that wanted this movie to do things more focused, to set things up with more care to lead to a better payoff.

Is this movie better than On Stranger Tides? Yes. Absolutely!

Does it capture the magic of the first or the wild fun of the other two? Not exactly, which perhaps is my biggest problem with it.

If we do end up with more Pirates movies, PLEASE Disney, take your time, craft a fun, adventurous story, and don’t be afraid to take risks…as long as you own them.

Interview: Eldervine

Today we’re joined by Eldervine. Eldervine is a phenomenal visual artist who enjoys experimenting with different mediums and styles. She is mostly a realistic illustrator, but occasionally dabbles in impressionism and surrealism. Eldervine does both traditional and digital art. She does sculpture/3D modelling and is currently studying game art/design. She’s a passionate artist and obviously has a very bright future. My thanks to her for taking the time to participate in this interview.

WORK

Please, tell us about your art.

I’ve been drawing pretty much my entire life- I can’t remember when I started but (looking back) by the time I started school I was pretty well practiced for a 5/6 year old. Since then I’ve dabbled in almost every art form; painting (and then digital painting) was my staple for a long time but I’m pushing myself to sculpt more now.

In style I consider myself a realistic illustrator, even though I slide into impressionism and/or surrealism a bit.

What inspires you?

I’m an unashamed lover of beauty whether it’s found in pleasing shapes, rich colours or lush textures. Animals are the best source for me, particularly horses- they’re made of such beautiful shapes (loads of sine curves) and textures and I was totally that girl at school that always drew horses haha

My first degree ended up being in biological anthropology though (through a weird slide from the art school into the humanities, into the sciences), and that did get me interested in how humans work- that and working at my city art gallery made me more appreciative of human (and cultural) beauty. And it seems weird to me but playing The Sims 3 inspired an appreciation for architecture and landscape. The greatest artistic urge I get remains equine though, so I guess it’s true that old habits die hard.

What got you interested in your field?  Have you always wanted to be an artist?

Phew, it’s a bit of a twisty ride!

My obsession with horses lead me into playing a ton of the online text-based horse sim games that abounded during the 90s/2000s; they were good because they were targeted just at people that like horses, unlike the modern ones which also have a clear intended age bracket. Those games all eventually died so I found myself joining a forum that used The Sims 3 (in modded form) as a horse game, with picture shows and breed registries etc. hosted on the forum. That then led me into the world of computer game modding, and I found I really enjoyed retexturing things and became interested in learning how to 3D model.

So starting from last year I’m studying game design/game art, and I think it’s the best career idea I’ve had so far! I previously didn’t think I could make a living doing art, but games is a growing industry with heaps of demand for artists. I’ve also found that games is a field that allows me to apply the biggest selection of my broad interests and skills (I’ve found my anthropology surprisingly relevant too), and offers specialist and generalist opportunities in equal amounts so I’ll be able to try a lot of different jobs and/or specialize in whatever I end up liking the most.

Do you have any kind of special or unique signature, symbol, or feature you include in your work that you’d be willing to reveal?

I don’t know about a unique thing (apart from a signature obvs). I’m guilty of the ol’ scratchy sketching that my new teachers (all animators) hate and are trying to beat out of me haha, but I don’t like leaving much lineart in my coloured stuff anyway. I think I certainly have a style which is very different to what everyone else in my class does- mainly, I think, because my artistic influences come from fine art whereas most of them grew up on comics.

What advice would you give young aspiring artists?

Stop worrying about having a style, it will happen naturally over the course of your life and if you try and force it you’ll just end up limiting yourself as an artist.

Learn the fundamentals of colour, light and anatomy (yes, I mean realism) BEFORE you start stylizing. If you do it the other way around you’re locking yourself in to only being able to do that style, and often not as well. Anime/manga artists are prone to this; the good ones did heaps of life drawing before translating into the style, whereas you can tell the ones that started out in the style because they do some real janky stuff with anatomy and perspective, and it just doesn’t look as good even when considering style.

Also, be intelligent with your art; always ask yourself why you’re doing something or why something looks good to you. It helps you learn about yourself as well as your craft.

ASEXUALITY

Where on the spectrum do you identify?

I knew I was asexual when I was 12, and I’m now 100% again, but there were bumpy bits at 22 and 25 where I thought I could be demisexual (thinking back and being brutally honest with myself, the first boyfriend I wasn’t interested in at all and the second one I thought I had found someone who I could be happy with, but they didn’t seem to get what I said about my sexuality and so I just tried my best to be into him sexually too. Spoilers: didn’t last long with either of them).

As far as the romantic scale is concerned, I have no idea. I do overwhelmingly connect better with women than (heterosexual) men, but I honestly don’t know what exactly the difference is between a close friendship and a platonic romantic one. Because I seem to be missing something, my current guess is that I’m aromantic as well. xD

Have you encountered any kind of ace prejudice or ignorance in your field?  If so, how do you handle it?

I’ve only mentioned asexuality to a few friends so far in the games field, so I’m going to answer from all the fields I’ve dabbled in.

I am conventionally attractive, and my body developed early- my breasts were already fully developed and large at 12. Both things I have had people try to use as evidence that I cannot possibly be asexual, despite my pointing out that what feelings they get from my body are the results of their sexuality. (That and breasts are not actually sexual organs, they’re just sexualized in many cultures).

Apart from that, whenever I do mention it (which isn’t often) people tend to go “uh” and then gloss over it, clearly not understanding/not believing but not wanting to make more of a deal out of it. Which is fine by me actually, except I’m pretty sure my parents still have their fingers in their ears (some crossed) and are looking the other way as well. (I’ve definitely heard the “you just haven’t found the right person yet” line).

What’s the most common misconception about asexuality that you’ve encountered?

Apart from the binary fission joke (which every asexual gets I think) and the one where people get their sexuality mixed up with yours, that asexuality is due to trauma.

I did actually have panic attacks – with my first boyfriend, the first week after we became official I couldn’t eat anything or I’d throw it up. Doctor gave me meds to calm the acid in my stomach and then I was fine. With the second boyfriend I woke up one day in abdominal agony, shaking and sweating (making it rain, but not in a good way!) but as soon as he called the paramedic hotline and I was talking and joking to the lady on the line I was better- when doctors later examined me they found absolutely nothing wrong. I had another exactly a week after (and I still feel awful about this one) where we had finished making out for a bit and he went to start on lunch (or something, can’t remember) and he came back to ask me something, and as he sat down next to me/leaned over me I suddenly felt so ill, had to bolt to the bathroom- didn’t quite make it- and was ridiculously, violently sick everywhere.

It was at this point that my mother helped me set up 6 months of therapy with a well-reputed sex therapist. xD Who was actually really lovely, and I enjoyed those sessions with her! It was really nice to have talks about sex that weren’t charged with expectations, with someone who was relaxed and had actually studied sexual health, critiques of sex ed, etc. She didn’t believe though that anyone with any hint of sexual need was asexual (and I did say that I was fine to have sex with myself occasionally) so I didn’t really get the benefit of that discussion. She also thought that my aversion to men (as she saw it- honestly I think guys being the only issue was because no lesbians ever hit on me haha) was due to my developing early and being sexualized by others before my mind was caught up. That boys would pretend to be friends with me because I had the big boobs, she said, lead to me linking sexual desire with dishonesty and so I distrusted it. Now, I still think it’s a really interesting idea and I do wonder if my sexuality would’ve expressed any differently if a)I got boobs later and b)if the world/how we raise boys was different. It’s been a long while now though and I’ve continued thinking about it and reflecting on myself, and while I do think I am put off a lot by how the world at large treats sex and sexuality (and women), I think 13 year old boys being self-centered pricks triggering asexuality for the rest of my life is giving them rather a lot of credit!

What advice would you give to any asexual individuals out there who might be struggling with their orientation?

I used to get so stressed when I was a teenager because I was taking on everyone’s expectations about me and my future, and felt that a relationship and sex was just going to happen to me and I had no control over anything. Don’t stress- I can’t talk for everyone, everywhere in the world or in every situation, but at least in my case, the only thing that was keeping me from feeling secure and in control was me thinking that I wasn’t. Hopefully, this can serve as a reminder for someone else in a similar situation. You don’t have to do shit if you don’t want to. If you’re not in a similar situation, don’t be scared to go looking for help to get that control. It exists.

Having said that, don’t be scared to revisit what you think and try working yourself out all over again- you are what you are, and labels are tools that we can use to try and make more sense of ourselves, for us and for others, but remember that they are tools crafted from an imperfect world and they are clumsy.

Finally, where can people find out more about your work?

My Tumblr that I set up to share my game art/schoolwork is eldervine.tumblr.com (you can also find my Twitter through there, which I use to post arty stuff, game stuff, school stuff, news stuff and feminist rants haha)

If you’re interested in seeing the Sims 3 horse art I did when I was a part of Equus-Sims, you can have a look at eldervinefields.tumblr.com (it’s sadly not active anymore but all my stuff, including mods, is still there).

Thank you, Eldervine, for participating in this interview and this project. It’s very much appreciated.