#half-time quiz show clip

[mykoreanlove]

in character

🎃 happy halloween y'all 🎃

How did I end up in this club?

“Hey, y/n, lighten up. Don’t you like it here?”

Did you?

The club was narrow and over-crowded. Instead of dancing the night away, you bumped into costumed strangers every other minute. It was way too loud – the bass made your whole body vibrate, tuning out every possible thought. Bright lights were flickering and clouding your vision, making it hard to see anybody but yourself. You always hated big crowds, and you hated being pushed around and smelling strangers' odors even more, but you promised your friends to come to this Halloween party, so you faked a positive response.

“What? Of course not, I love it here. Hey, I’m gonna get some shots for us, okay?”

Your friends nodded in agreement as you turned around and made your way to the other end of the venue. Navigating through those drunken crowds was a hassle but you finally made it to the neon-lit bar. It wasn’t too crowded, but you still took your time. Anything that would let you escape the chaos in front of the DJ was highly welcomed.

As you waited for the bartender to notice you, you checked if your outfit was still in place. You chuckled at the idea of dressing up as the Powerpuff girls. Your friends took this very seriously though; they even made you do a personality quiz. You weren’t sweet and innocent like Bubbles and you weren’t confrontational and badass like Buttercup either. No, you were a leader with a brain and ego to match so they made you Blossom. Your hands checked for the essentials: the giant red bow was still in place; the wig was still clipped to your hair and the rose-colored tint still covered your full lips. You sighed in relief.

As you were trying to get the bartender’s attention once more you noticed a handsome guy approaching you. You were used to men hitting on you, but they rarely caught your attention. You were picky, yes, but you had standards and you wouldn’t waste your time on just anybody. This guy, however? He definitely piqued your interest.

„Hey, are you a Powerpuff girl?”

He was nervous – scratching his head and looking down at his hands but he was gorgeous! You always loved a handsome man, but he took it to a whole new level: full brown hair, dark shiny eyes and a gorgeous smile with a sturdy nose. You loved a man with a big nose and already started to wonder if everything about him was sturdy, too.

“I am for tonight.”

He looked at you surprised. “What will you be tomorrow then?”

You smirked, having too much fun with this. “Whatever you want me to be.”

He was surprised by your assertiveness and started laughing. His cheeks were slightly flushed as he was a bit embarrassed. You thought he was the most adorable person to ever exist.

“Damn, you are good at this. Sadly, I’m not. I’m Chris.” He stretched out his hand which was covered in silver rings to introduce himself formally. You smiled as you were shaking his hand in reply. “Y/N.”

A brief pause followed as he was too nervous to talk to you. “So, you dressed up as a wolf?” You looked him up and down – he was barely wearing anything, but you did not mind. He was built like a god – marble abs, strong arms and a lean torso. It would have been a crime to not show up half-naked.

“Ah, yes. But I’m not a regular wolf. I’m a werewolf.” He chuckled again, overplaying his nervousness.

“When the full moon strikes, I turn into an animal. Ahuuuu!” Chris imitated a wolf before turning red again and looking down, utterly embarrassed by what he just did. You couldn’t help but fall for his awkwardness – he was so shy and precious. You had never encountered a man like him before and you were highly intrigued.

You grabbed his arm and started laughing which made him ease up instantly. “I have a question about wolfs, Chris.” His eyes widened in surprise, wondering if he would embarrass himself further by not being able to answer your question.

“Can they drink?” He sighed in relief as he understood what you were up to.

“They don’t normally do”, he paused for a brief second while motioning the bartender over to you, “but when they meet a gorgeous Powerpuff girl, they surely make exceptions.”

You spent the next hour talking while downing bitter shots, completely forgetting about your friends on the dancefloor. You got along quite well – after the first couple rounds, he was relaxed enough to talk to you. You chatted about yourselves, shared some jokes and flirted heavily. The chemistry between the two of you was undeniable and you wondered if he sensed it, too.

“So, are you here with your tribe?”

“Tribe?” He asked astonishedly.

“Aren’t wolves always running around in packs? Or did you come here alone?”

“Ah, no I came by myself. I’m acquainted with the DJ, and he wanted me to say hi, that’s how I ended up here. I don’t go out normally, not a fan of big crowds.”

“So, what do you do instead? Spend some time with miss wolf?”

Chris choked on his drink. “Actually, there is no miss wolf. In case you wondered.” He dodged your side playfully.

You smirked hesitantly. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, just take a look around. Every girl in here has been eyeing you for the past hour. If looks could kill, I’d be dead by now.”

Chris shrugged his broad shoulders unfazed. “I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. If I’m being honest, I don’t care about the other girls here. I only care about one girl right now.” He took another sip of his drink, moving to stand closer to you.

“And who is that lucky girl?”

He turned his head, facing you now. With a giant smile on his lips, he whispered: “You.”

***

You abandoned your friends and went home with him. Was that the noble thing to do? No. But you wanted him, you needed him. Leaving the club with him while every bitch was sending daggers your way fueled your ego immensely. He didn’t care about anybody but you. And you liked that. You got off it.

Chris wasn’t living too far away , so you decided to walk. A walk that would have taken you 15 minutes turned into an hour. You couldn’t stop touching each other – stopping every two minutes to kiss and grope, you acted like brainless teenager in public, but you didn’t care. Smart of him to dress up as an animal since the sexual connection between the two of you was equally feral.

“Chris” you panted into his mouth as he was kissing you once again.

“Yes, blossom?” You smirked. That cheeky fucker was into roleplay, and you would gladly play along.

“If you don’t take me home right now, I will suck your dick on the streets.” His eyes widened in desire, totally turned on by that idea.

“And we don’t want Blossom to behave like that, do we?” You batted your eye lashes at him, acting all sweet and innocent. He cleared his throat, re-composing himself instantly. He turned around, his back to you now.

“Hop on.”

“What?”

“I said hop on. Wolfie is gonna carry you to his cave. Hop on.” You gladly obliged and jumped on his broad back, placing your hands around his neck, pampering it with kisses.

“Y/N, you’re such a tease.” You sucked on his neck harder.

“Who’s y/n?” You were marking him like a dog, leaving bruises all over his soft skin. Chris practically ran to this place, breathing faster and flatter.

“Good wolfie. Don’t make Blossom wait.”

You switched from his back to the kitchen counter and sat there impatiently, while he was taking off your costume. You grabbed the bow and hair and wanted to help but he stopped you.

“No, wait”, he looked at you embarrassed again. “Can you.. Can you keep that on?”

Fuck, he was good. So shy and embarrassed, yet so kinky and horny. You wondered what else was living inside of him.

“Get on your knees.” He looked at you surprised but did as you told. Sat on the counter you crossed your long legs and observed him cautiously.

Chris was on his knees, his face right on the level of your crotch. If he wanted you to behave like a girl leader, you would treat him like a dog. You cooed at him.

“Does wolfie want a treat?” His tongue slid over his lips, anticipation clouding his whole body. You uncrossed your legs and spread them just so he could see your pink, satin thong.

“Does wolfie want this?”

He shot up, grabbing your thighs with his big hands. His lean fingers pressed into your flesh, turning the skin beneath it white. He was ready to devour you – you could see it in his eyes. His pupils grew darker, his breathing got shallower and the bulge in his pants grew bigger. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you towards himself, towards the edge so he could face your crotch directly. Everything about you enticed him, making him lose his mind.

He was focused on your swollen pussy in that pink thong, barely covering anything. Dark patches on the fabric informed him about your wetness, leaking for only him. Chris felt his dick twitching inside his pants. You smelled heavenly and he couldn’t wait a minute longer to eat you out. Like a dog he approached your pussy by sniffing it, rolling his eyes in pleasure. He grabbed the hem of your thong with his teeth and pulled it off slowly, granting him direct access to your throbbing core.

“Fuck”, he muttered under his breath.

You watched him excitedly doing all of this. You had him pussy-drunk before he even tasted you, let alone entered you. You wondered how far you could take this and stopped him when he was placing kisses on your pussy.

“No no, not so fast.” Chris pouted and looked at you in dismay.

“Blossom, please. I’ll do anything, please.”

He looked up at you while placing kisses on your thighs, each kiss dangerously close to your core.

“I want you to beg.” His hands squeezed your ass as he was asking you to give into him.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll beg all night if you want to. Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel good. I promise I’ll take you to new heights like no one before me had. Please.”

You grew hotter, squirming on the inside. Fuck, I want him to do that to me. All night, if possible. Look at him sitting there, batting his horny eyes at me. You want me that bad, huh? I’m gonna give it to you, baby boy. You can have your way with me.. But I will have my way with you first.

“No.” Your voice was bold, depicting your dominance beautifully. Chris watched you aroused, unknowing of what was about co come. “I want you to beg like a wolf would.”

He looked at you in surprise before grinning, totally loving this freakish role play of yours. His hands spread your legs even wider while he was licking his lips. You wanted to play the alpha? By all means, had it your way.

He took off his black pants, hence standing naked in front of you. It was hard to concentrate on anything but his throbbing cock which was pulsating for you. Hard like a rock and covered in veins for you. You gulped in excitement. He got back on his knees and looked up at you – total submission on his part. He was ready to beg, ready to be humiliated, ready to do anything for you. He kissed the insides of your thighs while making eye contact once more.

“Ahuuuuu”, he whispered in a rather deep and raspy voice. He leaned closer and kissed near your entrance, repeating the whole process.

“Ahuu”, this time shorter.

Once more he licked his lips and whispered “Ahu” before burying his head between your thighs, licking and sucking his way to heaven. Your head fell back in ecstasy, your legs shivering from all the sensations. His tongue was entering you forcefully, while his nose hit your clit in just the right way. It wouldn’t take long for you to come, and he could definitely tell. The grip of your thighs around his head hardened which made him lick you even more forcefully. You grabbed his dark hair, tugging at it, moans escaping your lips involuntarily.

“Fuck, Chris, fuck, Chris, fuuu-”

You came all over him. Chris leaned back and drank in your exquisite juices, smiling proudly like a kid on Christmas. You chuckled at his reaction, once again he was too cute for you to handle.

“Soooooo, was wolfie a good boy?” You already knew what he was up to but decided to play along.

“Yes. A very good boy. Tell me, does wolfie want a treat?” His eyes shot up in excitement once more.

“Is wolfie’s tail already wagging for me?” Chris looked down at himself, his full-blown erection giving him away.

He shied away, biting his pink lip. “I guess..”

“Come here.” He got up and positioned himself between your legs. You grabbed him by his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, tender and passionate like he was with you.

“Let me show you what a good boy you are.”

#bang chan oneshot #stray kids bang chan #bang chan stray kids #mykoreanlove #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan fanfic #bang chan hard hours #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz bang chan #skz x stay #skz x y/n #skz x you #christopher bang x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #skz smut #skz fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids au #skz chan smut #skz chan fluff #bang chan scenarios

[jmdbjk]

Bangtan Weekly Report: Festa Week

I am Army for about 3 years but loved them all 10 years...

saw someone say something similar the other day and its so true.

Millions of dollars spent on this almost month-long Festa and all for free to us. The 30 minutes of fireworks alone were estimated at $5 million USD. Now do you understand why those big sponsors were so important?

It is estimated that 400,000 attended the one day event that included Namjoon's presentation and the fireworks finale with about 120,000 being foreigners and 2000 being security manning the event. Perspective: Lollapalooza has an attendance of up to 100,000 per day. This 10th Anniversary Festa was ONE DAY.

400,000 ... almost half a million people on one day ... let that sink in.

View of the fireworks from around the other side of the river:

Drone view:

Fireworks began with Mikrokosmos, one of my favorites and right away I'm having trouble holding back the tears. Ever since YTC Busan, Butterfly has become one of those songs that makes me overly emotional but I found myself getting emotional even when hearing Fire, Dynamite and Take Two playing with the fireworks coordinated to the beat.

Watch 8-hour coverage of the day from JBTC News (gives a good idea of the number of people attending during the day-long event.)

Watch the entire fireworks show on Weverse. It begins with a message from Yoongi.

A translation of Jungkook's narration during the fireworks.

During Namjoon's event, the members called in. 32 minutes in Jungkook calls in from Los Angeles and apparently, Joon didn't realize it was JK EVEN AFTER HE SANG A FEW LINES OF TAKE TWO... JOON????? About 39 minutes in, Tae calls in and about 58 minutes into it, we hear Jimin conducting an Army quiz. I hope they add English subtitles soon.

More on Take Two:

I was asked what I thought "Take Two" meant in the context of the song lyrics...

...We been walkin' so many ways I feel like my heart will explode Can't you see the take two? Stories unfolding just for you youth with you hold my hand now ... When I got you by my side along the road we walked together Oh, we young forever ... Since we're together, I'm not afraid to wish for eternity ... I hold you in my arms Can't you see the take two? Letters I didn't send to you .... Oh, we young forever It was possible because I was with you

If I had to sum it up in one idea I would say they trust us to hold their youth within us. To remember their ten years so far. We are entrusted to keep that with us.

Because they are leaping off one by one into the thing that will supposedly change them in ways they don't even know yet. And they want these last ten years of their lives to be safe in us because this was a very special time of their lives.

I mean, who in this world can say they spent the youth of their teens and 20s as BTS, the group that never stopped running forward for almost ten years and rose to be a global phenomenon?

Only seven people in the world can say it: Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook.

Who else is going to remember their youth for them? Us, they only have us: Army.

A K-media article wrote about Take Two and specifically about Jimin's vocals, and besides describing Jimin as being the pillar of BTS songs, he went on saying this:

"In addition, Jimin showed a wide range of vocals, from soft mid-bass to high-pitched parts, and maximized the charm of the song with a unique and angelic voice praised by numerous vocal experts, giving a gift of ecstasy like an aurora."

Aurora... that is a PERFECT description of the sounds that come out of Jimin's throat when he sings.

I have maintained since the first time I listened to the song that Jimin's presence is heard throughout the song. Here is the Jimin focus cam.

About Song leaks:

There have been a lot of so-called "leaks" being passed around of Jungkook's songs. These could just be clips of discarded songs, discarded guides for group songs or even AI... who knows. Songs get written and progress gets made on them and then they end up not using them at all.

If the leaks are legit songs about to be on an album, I'm not sure how someone can continue to leak them and get away with it. I think the same has happened to songs that are supposed to be Tae's work. Leaks like this make an artist's work vulnerable to plagiarism and copyright theft.

Speaking of discarded songs... I've seen a lot of people talking about the number of songs that get included on albums and also why old songs get released years after they are written and produced.

I'm not a music industry expert but its a well-known thing that an artist is typically continually writing and recording music. Out of all the songs they produce, an artist will choose the ones that fit the theme/tone/vibe of an album/collection to release together. Many songs never make it. But that doesn't mean they aren't good songs, they just aren't what the artist wants at that moment in time.

So much music and lyrics are timeless so it doesn't matter when a song is written, if it resonates, it is relevant. I would bet Jimin had several songs he could have put on Face but they just weren't exactly what he wanted to say, or the vibe wasn't what he was aiming for now. He might save them for later.

And people saying Take Two was written a few years ago but is only now being released means it is one of those songs that still resonates with where BTS is today.

This is my opinion: I also want to say something about the argument that Jimin was denied all the MV's he wanted for Face... we know he's working on new music... we know they have a tight timeframe because of enlistment. It takes time and money to produce music videos, especially to the high caliber that BTS music videos are produced.

I think Jimin knew he was going to do more music before the end of this year. He knew logistically there was no time to produce the kind of MV's that are expected for other Face songs.

"But Yoongi got an MV for every song..." Yoongi's album D-Day and its subsequent concert tour are huge undertakings, comes 3 years after D-2 and this will be it for him. He will have to enlist. He does not have time to produce another album and do promotions for it before enlistment. He blew his wad on D-Day.

We will get more from Jimin before the end of the year and before he chooses to enlist.

I digressed... back to Festa...

About the book:

"After taking their first step into the world on June 13, 2013, BTS will celebrate the 10th anniversary of their debut in June 2023. They have risen to the peak as an iconic global artist and during this meaningful time, they look back on their footsteps in the first official book. In doing so, BTS nurtures the power to build brighter days and they choose to take another step on a road that no one has gone before. BTS shares personal, behind-the-scenes stories of their journey so far through interviews and more than three years of in-depth coverage by Myeongseok Kang, who has written about K-pop and other Korean pop culture in various media. Presented chronologically in seven chapters from before the debut of BTS to the present, their vivid voices and opinions harmonize to tell a sincere, lively, and deep story. In individual interviews that have been conducted without a camera or makeup, they illuminate their musical journey from multiple angles and discuss its significance. In addition, portrait photos that show BTS as individuals and artists open the book, and throughout there are concept photos, tracklists of all previous albums, and over 330 QR codes. As digital artists, BTS has been communicating with the world through the internet and this book allows readers to immediately access trailers, music videos, and more online to have a rich understanding of all the key moments in BTS history. Complete with a timeline of all major milestones, BEYOND THE STORY is a remarkable archive―truly everything about BTS in one volume."

The HYBE mural:

This artist did a fantastic job on this hand painted mural. He used cans of spray-paint. Amazing.

(video credit)

It's been a very emotional few weeks with so much content given to us.

From BangBangCon and 5th Muster to Take Two to Jimin's performance of Letter, the dance practice videos, Suchwita with Jin, seeing all of Seoul lit up in purple, all the photos, all of the positive media coverage in Korea, Tae's jazz performance, it's been a whirlwind of gifts for us. I've never experienced anything like it before.

And thinking about this year's Festa, with all the members coming and going and scattered across the globe, doing their own thing, Joon's comment that next year, Jin-hyung will have to fill the space implies everyone else will be enlisted before next June. I am really looking forward to having Jin back with us.

Anyway... APOBANGPO!

#i hope take two replaces yet to come #bts festa 2023 #i saw a pair of custom nike shoes with apobangpo on them #i might need to look into customized nike shoes #bangtan weekly report

[theuniversitychallengereview]

I wrote a blog called No Spoiler last year, about how easy it had been for me to avoid spoilers for the previous day's episode of The Challenge, and how that was an oddity in our information-dense, social-media flooded lives. Well, on Tuesday I innocently logged onto Twitter, having missed this week's episode due to my Book Club, and had the result spoiled for me. It was my own fault - as I said in the other post, when you log on to a Twitter account which is specifically for University Challenge then that is the kind of fire you are playing with. 

For the past few weeks, I've been watching the Netflix Tour de France documentary with my girlfriend. With no prior interest in the sport of cycling she really got into it (and really loved Wout van Aert, which did make me a bit jealous, but who doesn't?). Despite the fact that it was about last year's Tour, the result of which has been known for nearly a full twelve months, and despite the fact that we watched several stages of this year's race together, she made it to the final episode with no knowledge (besides her correct inclination that there was no way redacted would be coming back from such a large deficit going into the final few days) of the overall victor. 

What's the moral of this story? Nothing particularly profound, just that its interesting how siloed our consumption of things is. If I had to estimate, I'd say that I read/heard the fact that cyclist A beat cyclist B in the 2022 Tour de France more than a hundred times in the past month, but if you're not looking out for something, or if your personal Internet isn't pre-programmed to show you it then this sort of thing is far easier to avoid. 

It would be pretty funny, I think, if I did go ahead and not review this week's episode, but I've already spent a while looking up cool stats and I don't want to waste them, so with that in mind; here's your first Starter for Ten.

You can watch the episode here before reading my review...

Birkbeck were regulars in the early years of the Paxman era, appearing six times in the first nine series, culminating with victory in 2003, after which they weren't seen for seventeen years. Oxford Brookes, meanwhile, have only been on five times in total, making the quarter-finals twice.

Brookes skipper Manton buzzes early on the first starter, but he's wrong, and McMillan swoops in for Birkbeck to steal the points. An easy bonus set on films nets them a full house, before Manton makes up for his earlier mistake with epiphany. They grab a hat-trick on the Biafran war, but remain behind thanks to the incorrect interruption.

Another from McMillan stretched the Londoner's lead, but Gardner hit back for Brookes to keep things tight. McMillan is then able to give one of the coldest possible UC answers of all time when asked to complete the phrase written on Woody Guthrie's guitar, 'This machine... kills fascists". Rajan shows off his cricket credentials, scolding Birkbeck for mistaking a doosra for a googly, and demonstrating the bowling action at his desk. 

The first picture starter continues the ping-pong nature of the game so far, with Broadbent, eyebrows plastered in a kindly frown, quickest to recognise the Togo flag. He blitzes the bonuses too to tie the game. Two more consecutive starters for Brookes open up the biggest lead of the game, but Birkbeck fought back through Huntley and McMillan. 

It looks like no one knows the musical on the music starter, but Chadha guesses Funny Girl after hearing the lyric 'good for a laugh', which is excellent quizzing. After the bonuses we're back level, at 110 each. 

The scoring has been going at quite the clip and doesn't let up in the second half. Brookes get a couple to go ahead again, but three in a row from Birkbeck nudge them back in front. No one is allowed to build up too much momentum though, and Broadbent buzzes rapidly with games console to regain the advantage for Brookes. Its an absolute basketball match of a quiz, but who is going to be the one to score the dagger?

McMillan puts Birkbeck five points clear, and skipper Chadha gives Taylor Swift (an answer for the second time this series) to put the game beyond Brookes.

Birkbeck 220 - 205 Oxford Brookes

Phew! You can definitely see the effect of Rajan's quicker questioning here. 

This was the first match with a combined score of 400 or more since Durham thrashed Strathclyde 360-55 in 2018. You've got to go back to 2014 for the last match where both teams scored more than 200, when Trinity beat Manchester 285-205 in the quarters.

So despite the fact I think the average score is going to be a bit higher this series than in recent history, Oxford Brookes can count themselves supremely unlucky, and will definitely be returning as high-scoring losers. 

See you tomorrow for Southampton vs Christchurch

#university challenge #bbc2 #amol rajan #birkbeck #oxfordbrookes

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Well, I said I'd let people know if I uncover anymore secrets if the universe from that Comedian's Comedian podcast, after it unraveled the stubborn mystery of the Chocolate Milk Gang for me yesterday. Today, I have a new one. Unfortunately I'm near the beginning of a 15-hiur drive right now (not in the driver's seat at this moment, it's fine), so I can't cut out clips or even write out quotes, that's too hard on a phone. But I think I'll do some cutting and posting and writing on this in more detail once the drive is done.

For now, I'll say that anyone who has any interest whatsoever in Andy Zaltzman, anything he's ever made, or even just political or topical comedy or comedy as a craft or life, should listen to the Andy Zaltzman episode of The Comedian's Comedian podcast. It's an hour and a half and I recommend every second for insight on how to put complex and well written comedy together from one of the most creative people I've ever heard.

That's not the secret, though. The secret revelation is related to the fact that I have made quite a few posts in the past about how I'm convinced that Andy Zaltzman can work with John Oliver with no jealousy because deep down to his core he has nothing but contempt for the entire concept of success and is deeply unimpressed by anything that is not a bad pun or a cricket stat. Well, it turns out that him wrapping his whole persona around that so tightly, and committing to the bit so hard very nearly all the time, means when we do hear him come out of character and admit to occasionally experiencing normal human emotions, it's like the reveal of a heart wrenching secret. It's like seeing my dad cry. I mean, Andy Zaltzman isn't my dad, and he didn't cry or come anywhere near doing so in that interview. But by his standards of how much sincerity he'll normally show about any topic of genuine significance, which happen to be about the same standards as my dad has, his words in that interview may as well have constituted a full breakdown.

Anyway, I'm sitting in the back of my parents' car with them in the front seats while we drive to my grandparents' place, meaning I feel about thirteen years old again, and hearing how Andy Zaltzman felt about things as of that day in 2014 and comparing it to the good and the bad that's happened since (bad, John left The Bugle; good, he's hosting The News Quiz, it's not the new Radio Four show he wanted but it's something?) has made me feel some things.

I also learned that he had ambitions of turning The Department into a TV show, and holy hell that would be good. That could still happen. They wouldn't even have to write much new stuff, the radio episodes as written hold up great today.

[187days]

Day Eighty-Nine

Today and tomorrow are the last days of first semester. Or, at least, they’re supposed to be; there’s a big snowstorm coming, so the actual last day might end up being Monday or Tuesday instead of tomorrow.

But anyways.

The last two days are half days (two ninety-minute blocks, ten minute break in between) so that teachers can give final exams if they want to and students won’t end up taking four of them in one day. After that, most students go home. But the ones who need to complete or revise their work in order to achieve a passing grade are required to stay until 2:20 to work with their teachers, and sometimes others opt to stay in order to improve- like, kids who have, say, a C+, might stay to get their grades up into the B range in order to make the honor roll- and I think that’s awesome. 

I don’t give final exams, so my students spent the block wrapping up their work. My APGOV students shared what they’d done for their political participation projects, which was really cool because of the variety: some of them interviewed elected officials, political staffers, candidates, etc...; some of them attended local board meetings; some of them wrote letters to the governor; some of them participated in protests and demonstrations. The point I wanted to emphasize was that they can and should be involved in those ways, and I’d say I was successful in getting that across. 

I had them do a course reflection- and got some very sweet notes from that- while I proofread and wrote feedback on their projects (flaunting my much-discussed grading speed right there). After that, I told them they could use the remaining time to make any necessary revisions, or they could do other things (I knew a bunch of them had a physics project to finish). But, before they left, I handed them each a letter because it’s my tradition to write them one last lesson, thank them for the semester, and wish them luck in the future. 

My Block 2 section of World came in for the second block of the day. My students had the option to take the content quiz for this unit on current events, or present one of the pieces from their multi-genre projects. About a third of them opted to present; they shared videos, slideshows, poems, and so on. It was very cool. Afterwards, I had them do a peer edit. I’d loaded the projects on Classroom without names on them, and I had students choose two to read and write about. They had to tell me at least three things they’d learned from the project, and what its author did well/what could be improved. After that, I gave them time to revise their projects or any other work they wanted to revise, turn in any missing work, retake any assessments, etc, etc... 

I took the last five minutes to show a video recap of the class (clips from different things I’d shown, some reminders of my oft-repeated lessons) ending with my last lesson: that what they do in this world matters. It was disrupted a bit by the secretary in the main office announcing sports cancelations, kind of ruined the moment, but my students still applauded and thanked me on their way out. So, ehh, it’s fine. 

I had one come back for help in the afternoon, and I was so glad he did. I was worried he wouldn’t, but I’d told him that he would be able to pass my class if he did. He finished his multi-genre project, he made up assignments he’d missed (he’s absent a lot), he revised his book paper... and he made it. I’m so proud of him for making good choices today. 

It was definitely a busy day for me, what with all the grading (and students impatiently waiting for the grading no matter how fast I am) and making sure everything was wrapped up before the bell. But it was a good day. Tomorrow- or whenever- I’ll have my Block 3 section of world, then I’ll have the rest of the day to get ready for brand new classes to begin!

#teaching #teacher #teachblr #edublr #education #educhums #high school #social studies #the semester is over #day eighty nine

[hi-im-greenjunipertree]

🍫🥛 C H O C O L A T E  M I L K🍫🥛

Also, more of my S U P R E M E  editing skills.

IDK what this is 😂😂😂😂😂😂 I can’t stop playing this

The original clip is from Season 5 Episode 9 of FETCH! with Ruff Ruffman (”The Legend of Ruffman’s Gold”)

#fetch! with ruff ruffman #fetch with ruff ruffman #fetch season 5 #fetch season 5 is best anime #C H O C O L A T E M I L K #idk what this is😂 #pbs kids meme #pbs kids #half-time quiz show clip #supreme editing skills lol #the legend of ruffman's gold #No context Fetch! with Ruff Ruffman season 5 #fetch without context #fetch with ruff ruffman meme #fetch with ruff ruffman memes #insert more tags here

[hertzwritings]

Yes, professor

A/N: I watched Sandcastle. I’m ruined.

Feedback feeds the soul, my loves! Requests are always open.

MASTERLIST

HENRY CAVILL + CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairings: College!Professor!Cap. Syverson x female reader (no descriptiors)

Warnings: SMUT (minors DNI, please), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics, creampie, unprotecetd sex, language, age gap (reader is over 18)

You were late. Like, really, really late. You were rushing the halls, trying desperately to find the right room for Modern History 1, where your first class of the day took place. You already knew you weren't in good graces, judging by the clipped email, the professor had sent out about being late for class - he definitely didn't have a lot of leeway for coming in late.

As you stood in front of the door to the lecture hall, you were seriously considering just skipping it.

Instead you grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, stepping inside and hurried to an empty seat - which, of course, only was on the front rows. Wonderful. You looked at him and instantly had to suck in a breath; this was not a professor, this was a bodybuilder. A tree. A god. Arms were bulging behind the flimsy fabric of his shirt, his thighs strechted the fabric of his pants to a point, where you doubted they'd hold up if he went for a squat. His face was gorgeous, rugged and he looked like he could cleave wood with the back of his hand, which had you reeling over the veins, that popped out as he wrote something down on a piece of paper in front of you.

“Miss Y/L/N, did you not read my mail?” His voice rang clear as day through the hall. It was stern and dark, and he hadn’t even looked up from his papers. You grimaced and sat down, wondering briefly how he knew your name before remembering his list of students - you were probably the only one who wasn't present as he called out names.

“Sorry.” “Not good enough. I’ll let it slide for this time…” He looked to you, stopping himself mid sentence as his eyes roamed your chest and face, a devious smile playing at the corner of his lips. “But I’ll need you to see me in my office after hours.” You nodded and bit your lip. Great, not even a week into the semester, and you were already going to get written up.

“Think you can manage getting there on time?” Your face was burning.

“Yes, sir.” “Good girl.” Your breath hitched at the voice it almost sounded like praise and his southern drawl made his voice smoother than whiskey.

“Now, back to the Second Congo War…”

---------------------------

You had been writhing in your seat during the full lecture. He kept glancing at you, that fucking smile on his lips, exposing his teeth slightly and it made you feel hot every time you saw a flash of his fucking fangs. He must’ve known how you were feeling, because he constantly called on you and you were wildly unprepared for a quiz.

His arms were bulging against the buttoned, light blue shirt he was wearing, and a part of you wondered if a quick movement would rip the fabric in half as he crossed his arms and leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. You kept zoning out, focusing more on his arms, thighs and that one goddamn vein in his neck that kept popping out.

He had caught you staring a few times and each time, a smirk had graced his lips and he had cleared his throat, making your cheeks burn and you to look down as quickly as you could.

“Alright, get caught up to the reading, I’ll have your goddamn heads if you show up unprepared tomorrow. Y/L/N, down here.” He said as the class finished beckoning you down with a finger, his eyes on the papers on the table. You walked down to him, painfully aware of your bare legs and the triangle of slick that had gathered in your underwear during class.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” He looked at you with a lifted eyebrow. “I don’t tolerate students being late.” He said, sitting down and crossing his leg over his knee, leaning back - he looked fucking dangerously sinful. “I’m sorry, I got lost in the hall…” You started. “I don’t care. If I have class, you’re here.” You nodded. “If I call your name, you better answer correctly, darlin’, or I’ll have your ass.” You felt your cheeks heat up yet again. “Yes, sir.” His eyes gleamed. “My office. 30 minutes.” He dictated and you didn’t dare do anything else but nod again. “Yes, sir.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and you quickly left, cheeks on fire and an unsettling heat in your stomach.

You went straight to the bathroom, splashing water on your face and adjusted your shirt. “Get it the fuck together.” You whispered to yourself before rushing to the cafeteria and bought a bottle of water, chugging it and glanced at the clock. You might as well be early.

You sat on the wooden chair outside of his office, watching the time tick away, and a minute before time was up, you stood, smoothed your skirt down, drew a deep breath and knocked.

“Yes?” His voice rang out. You walked inside and shut the door behind you. “Lock it.” You followed orders, although you were unsure why.

He had shed his blue shirt and sat in a tattered Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt that splayed across his chest - it looked like it was about to pop at the seams.

“Sit.” You did and looked at him, your hands folded in your lap. He let his eyes wander your body, resting shortly at the swell of your breasts. He stood up and leaned over the desk, his face inches from yours. He was intoxicating, his blue eyes hard and a scent of harpics and pine lingered over him.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He asked in a brash voice. You nodded and he narrowed his eyes. “Words.” He practically spat at you.

“Yes, sir.” “Why?” You shifted a little in the chair, and felt your skirt ride up - you saw his eyes quickly dart to the exposed skin.

“I was late.” He hummed and stepped around the desk to stand against it in front of you. “And?” You frowned. And what? “I’m sorry?” He crossed his arms.

“And you weren’t focused or prepared for class.” You sighed. “I’m really sorry, I had an off day, and I…” You trailed off at the glare he sent you. He pushed off of the desk and placed his hands on the chair, capturing you in between his arms.

“I don’t care if you watched your dog die in front of you, you either tell me you aren’t prepared or aren't showing up, or you. Fucking. Show. Up.” His voice was dangerously low.

“Yes, sir.” He drew a deep breath and sent you a smirk that made you squeeze your thighs together - which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He chuckled darkly.

“Am I making you feel some type of way, Y/L/N?” you bit your lip. “Sir, I’m…” He swallowed hard, eyes trained on your heaving chest. “I saw how you were looking at me during class.” He stated. You nodded, not bothering to lie or deny. “You have a dirty mind, Y/N?” He asked in a low voice, the sound of your name rolling off his tongue made you shiver.

“Yes.” “Yes, what?” His hand was on your arm now. “Yes, sir.” He grinned dangerously and dipped his head to yours, lips almost touching. “Good girl.”

In a fraction of a second, he had you on your feet, turned you around and pushed you against the desk, his hands on your chest - you mewled at the feeling of his rough fingers tugging harshly on your pointed nipples, and his fingertips travelled quickly from your clothed nipples to the top of your shirt. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Are you attached to this shirt?” “Uhm, a little…” He ripped it straight down the middle and smiled wickedly at you. “Not anymore.” Now, with your breasts free, he attacked you again, fingers nimbly rolling and tugging your nipples as your head fell back and you moaned.

“You’re a fucking dirty girl, aren’t you?” He whispered, letting one hand wander down to the edge of your skirt, inching it up.

“If you don’t want this, you better fucking tell me now, because I aint goin’ back after going up here.” He grumbled, the tips of his fingers grazing your heat. You groaned. “I want this, sir.” You moaned, arching your back.

“You’re fucking dripping.” He rumbled and pushed you to sit on the desk, spreading your legs and pushing your thong to the side, slipping a finger inside of you and without pause, he started to pump his finger, curling it against your g-spot.

You felt dirty, halfway laying, halfway sitting on his desk, spread out in front of him, as his mouth found your nipple - you groaned and rolled your hips against his fingers, the sound of your wet, throbbing pussy almost filling the room.

“Shit…” He said, grabbing your hair and forcing you to look at him as he added another thick finger, his eyes boring into yours.

“You want to be fucked by your professor?” he asked lowly, dragging against your walls. You nodded and he pounded his fingers in you, making you gasp soundlessly. The palm of his hand rested on your clit, pressing down on it and your legs twitched around him, close to falling into pleasure. “What did I fucking tell you, dirty girl?” He growled, pressing harder down on your clit as he impaled you on his fingers. “Fuck!” You couldn’t focus on what he wanted from you, feeling yourself teetering on the edge, almost exploding in pleasure. “Use. Your. Fucking. Words.” Every word was punctuated by another deep plunge into you.

“Yes! Yes, fuck me, please!” You gritted through your teeth. “Want to come on my fingers, darlin’?” he almost commanded you to do it. “Yes…” “Yes, what?” He growled. You rolled your hips against him, every nerve in you was on fire.

“Fuck, yes, sir!” He picked up the pace and bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before letting it go and his eyes burned into you.

“Come for me.” You exploded around his fingers, feeling yourself gush over his fingers as you moaned and writhed under him, riding your orgasm out on his fingers shamelessly.

He didn’t give you time to come down, but slid his fingers out from you and grabbed your hips, lifting you from the desk and turning you over, bending you over the desk as he pushed your skirt up, bundling it on your hips and pushed your chest down into the cool wood.

“You’re dripping for me, huh?” He whispered. You moaned as you heard his zipper go, and your body tensed in anticipation.

“I’m goin’ to fucking punish you now.” He growled, his hand falling on your exposed ass, eliciting a squeal from you. He wasn’t holding back.

“Count ’em.” He rumbled as his hand went harshly to your ass, once, twice, five and ten times. At the end, your slick was almost running down your legs and tears were welling in your eyes. He chuckled. “Want me?” He was so fucking collected, it almost made you angry. “Yes, sir, please.” Your voice was needy as he pushed the tip against your folds. “You’re so wet, you like bein’ punished, huh?” You could hear his smirk. “By you, sir.” You were skirting a line, you shouldn’t, and you knew it. He groaned and pushed into you, stretching you to an uncomfortable degree. “Fuck, you’re big…” You moaned as he forced his length deeper, but he just chuckled. “You’ll take me.” He rumbled and pushed against your cervix. He moaned, the sound sending flames licking up and down your skin, and he didn’t give you time to adjust - he began dragging his length against your walls in a speed that was impossible for you to handle. Filthy sounds rolled from your mouth as he fucked you hard with his thick cock, his groans matcing you. His fingers went to your nipples and tugged them harshly. You bucked under him and he picked up the pace.

His left hand went to your ass, cupping, grabbing and diggin his fingers into it, and his hips stuttered against you. “I’m going to fill you, and you’re going to take it, hear me?” He mumbled between moans, rutting hard against you. “Yes, sir.” He groaned and leaned over you, his chest flush with your back and his teeth found your sensitive skin right at the junction of your throat and shoulder. You mewled and bucked your hips, the orgasm slamming into you as a freight train.

He roared as he came, filling you with his spend fucking you until your legs buckled under you. He pulled out, chuckling at the sight of your spent hole, throbbing and leaking. He smacked your ass for good measure before zipping his pants.

You pulled your skirt down and sighed unhappily at the sight of your ruined shirt. You were going to have a shitty time walking through campus. He quirked his eyebrow at you and handed you his blue shirt. You looked at it, dumbfounded.

“It’s just a shirt.” You took it with a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.” He cupped your face in his hand and finally kissed you. It was soft and surprisingly chaste considering his cum was currently leaking out of you.

“You can call me Luke when we’re here.”

-------------------------------------

TAGLIST:

@acaceta @summersong69 @luclittlepond @keiva1000

@a-skov @thatonechickhere @summersong69 @themanfromu

@spookyboogyuniverse @one-sweet-gubler @timetraveller4

@angelmather1 @kebabgirl67 @yourlocalhoney

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #the witcher #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x you smut #captain syverson #cap syverson #syverson x reader #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson x reader #syverson x ofc #syverson smut #cpt syverson #smut #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut fic

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

I wanna get around to making one giant video compilation with all the source clips for the cursed Fundy lore in chronological order because we always talk about the cursed lore, but how many people have actually seen all the clips that it came from?

On my list:

- Crayon suit

- Becoming Wilbur’s son + origin of the severed toe / salmon lore

- Telling Tubbo that he’s half salmon

- That one old L’manburg clip of Fundy looking at a river full of salmon and saying ‘they’re all relatives’

- Fundy during the war (crayon suit pt. 2 + “little champion”)

- The legendary stream of Fundy destroying Eret’s tower and explaining his origin story to Tommy and Jack, creating Sally the salmon for the first time and saying she’s an accountant

- August 10th pub quiz, Fundy starting his teenage rebellion phase

- August 11th Hamilton day, Fundy ending his teenage rebellion phase

(and becoming king through exploitation of Dutch law)

- Dreamon Hunters

- Ghostbur possessing a horse to mess with him

- Fundy saying he gets his smarts from his mother and that she was not only an accountant, but also collaborated with Albert Einstein

- Eret asking Fundy if he wants to get adopted

- Ghostbur at the fishing pier

- Might as well throw in the Samsung refrigerator for good measure

- Teaching Ghostbur how to fly on an invisible strider

- The flower shop incident

- Fundy explaining how he gets reborn like a phoenix and saying that his canon age is in his 20s

- Fundy showing the Butcher Army his L’manburg hit list with Dream listed twice

- Fundy telling Tubbo he’s moving to Australia to practice fire magic and fight giant spiders

- Fundy learning to astral project and possessing a jukebox

- Fundy falling out of the world and describing the boat glitch as “a perk of Dreamon hunting”

- Fundy repeatedly making references to Dream leaving him at the altar during the Festival despite the fact that the wedding had already been decanonized at that point

- Fundy having a conversation with Friend that implies that Friend insulted Sally and was crossing Fundy’s boundaries

- The one-man Western movie gunfight roleplay in the cat cafe ending with a duel against George

- Ponk showing Fundy the graveyard and saying he’ll be “here soon”

- The lore clip explaining Fundy’s dream future-telling powers

- “Aunt Panisha”

- The clips from the stream with Slime and Quackity

- Yogurt becoming his child

...

...Am I missing anything?

#dream smp

[lilliagradiewrites]

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter  found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?”  Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”  

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

#peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu

[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

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You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.

It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.

“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.

“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.

“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.

Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.

Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.

“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.

“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.

“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.

The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.

“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.

“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.

You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.

Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.

You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.

But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.

An almost friend.

Bucky.

You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.

“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.

You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.

“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.

“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.

“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.

“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.

“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.

“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.

“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.

Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.

The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.

Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.

You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.

Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.

“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.

Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.

A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.

“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.

“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.

Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.

“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.

“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.

“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.

“I’ll fix it.”

---

Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.

A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.

You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.

He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.

But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.

It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.

He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.

You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.

Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.

“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”

The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.

Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.

“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.

“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.

He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.

He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.

“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.

“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”

Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.

“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.

From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.

Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.

“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #story: tttb #soulmate au

[1ddotdhq]

Sun 31 Jan ‘21 

Happy Walls Dayyy!!!!!! Today was the first anniversary of our #1 fave debut album of 2020, and we all celebrated, Louis included! Last but best thing first: WE GOT A DEMO!! Louis ended the day by publishing a dreamy clip of a demo of the title song ‘Walls’. His clear voice croons over beautiful sliding electric guitars and background reverberance- if that’s his FIRST draft then he is, as we knew, a GENIUS! AND, the King Himself came on twitter to interact with his “loyal” (his words) subjects (that’s us!). He popped up at first to say that his tour, when it comes around, will be “fucking unbelievable...this is our day!”, and talked about his favorite part of the last year (“the two shows I played”), what he noticed most when performing solo the first times (“the space on stage” ughhhh all the tears), what he was looking forward to after COVID (“everything”) and getting through these times- “remember that everything is going to be better when normality sets back in.” He also explained that while he was gonna put out merch today, he “didn’t want to market the day”, but rather make it “a celebration just for us”. But, uh, the merch will be coming eventually! He then replied that there were “too many greedy fuckers out there” who try turn celebratory events into a “cash grab” (to quote the fan), and harries then got mad at that because THEY were like this must be about Harry (lol uhhhh) and assumed he was shading him and Jeff rather than, I don’t know, his OWN FORMER LABEL?? Cool cool cool, but it’s still Harry’s moth on Spotify, so cope. He told us that his proudest moment on the album was recording the strings for the Walls the Single, that he wouldn’t have approached the process differently because he’s still really proud of the album, that he was most looking forward to us hearing KMM or Walls, that Doncaster is his fav place (to no one’s surprise lmao), and, asked what song he likes to rock out to off HIS ALBUM was like oh hey have I got a rec for you: “Maybe Tomorrow” by the Stereophonics. It goes, “think I'll walk me outside and buy a rainbow smile, but be free” and “maybe tomorrow I’ll find my way home” (huh is there something happening tomorrow that could be linked to... OH. Right. Huh. Well all that is just a coincidence I’m sure, it’s not like Louis ever said he likes to rec songs because he wants us to read into the lyrics or anything... oh wait.)    

LTHQ did a insta quiz over on their stories (I only got two questions wrong!) and they did the promised virtual listening party and tweeted along to each song and retweeted fans’ reactions (and all the usernames, larries everywhere, we SEE YOU). Friends of Louis joined in the celebration- Only The Poets, Ashton Irwin of 5SoS fame, Helene Hornyck (“all the love,” she said!), Isaac Anderson and more, and All On The Board made one of their lovely Frankenstein poems which mashing up a bunch of LT1 songs, but in keeping with the theme of the day (and COVID I GUESS) did it as fanart rather than the usual in person board. And all of that was the BORING part of the day, can you BELIEVE?? The FUN part was the Walls Fanart that was chosen to be the new Spotify cards on the official Walls album. As in, they are up right now if you want to go check them out, but I’m gonna tell you straight up: they’re half Harry tats! The Defenseless card, especially, as it is just straight up fanart of Harry’s moth tattoo, especially fun when he had JUST got us talking about its Papillion origin with his finsta! The artist had been worried that Louis would be mad at them for submitting ‘Larry art’, and was overjoyed to learn that, uh... apparently, he was NOT. That was not all! The ‘Too Young’ art card is H’s rose tattoo, ‘Habit’ and ‘Fearless’ were both different variations of H’s anatomical heart tat (the ‘Habit’ one even included the word kind :{) ), and the We Made It rainbow wheel did, in fact, make it to Spotify, just like we thought! “Perfect Now” was Louis standing under a rainbow spotlight—they made that one black and white for spotify but the artist shared the original version. Harries were beside themselves, and tagged Jeff (Azoff), Ben Winston, and Gemma Styles (what?), demanding that they make Louis take the art down because it was clearly Harry art, which 1.) how much more blatant can you be if even ANTIS are noticing and 2.) what sort of control do they think Jeff, Ben, and Gemma have over Louis seeing as, uh, none of them currently work for him??? Weird, are they thinking there might be some kind of link... between Harry and his team and Louis... tell me more antis, truly, I’m fascinated!

One would think that’s more than enough for one day but WAIT THERE’S MORE Zayn is in EXCELLENT quirky Zayn form having fun with his own merch—he posted a gremlin (from the old RL Stine movie ‘Gremlins’) in a NIL beanie captioned “one size fits all humanoid shaped heads” late last night, haaaaa. Yes, I agree! The red stitching really makes the gremlin’s red eyes pop, and his fangs have never looked this good! And the question arose, is Harry’s finsta actually just his side account for following nothing but gay meme accounts? Evidence—the discovery of a second follow, of the openlygayanimals account-- would suggest yes! Well that’s valid, imagine having to not only navigate the internet AS HARRY but also without funny memes of your choice, that’s no life to lead. And Niall complained on twitter that people didn’t understand his sense of humor because SARCASM! He also tweeted about golf, which I’m sure was cool for people who understand it.

#louis tomlinson #zayn #harry styles #niall horan #lmao @ all the people who were like LOUIS JUST SHADED HSHQ #like uh NO HE DIDNT YOU DID #lajdflkdajfsd #also COULD LOUIS BE MORE ON LA TIME??? NO HE COULDNT #i love this today was fun and much needed! #to celebrate im gonna rewatch the liveshow tonight! #anyways! #song of the day! #maybe tomorrow by the stereophonics! bc LOUIS

[i-ntrmission]

Nine (Van McCann)

Just a silly little fic where Van is sporadic regular at a coffee shop.

Part 1

Part 2 

Saturday morning.

You’ve already baked cinnamon buns and the peacan pie by time Carly officially opens up the café at 8. The smell of freshly baked goods circling the shop, Carly hums in appreciation, hovering in the kitchen to see what she can rob for breakfast.

Toby arrives at half 8, Carly all too gladly standing back from the coffee machine. He hovers by the kitchen door a few minutes later, thanking you again for last night while you’re pulling a tray of breakfast muffins out of the oven.

“Sure you didn’t lose something?” You ask him, he only blinks, a questioning ‘no?’, and you tug his keys from your pocket.

“Are they my- shit, where’d you find them?!”

Fragmented story telling about last night, about Van, between serving customers. You still feel a rush of lightheadedness when you think about last night, think about Van. Heartbeat kicking up in a weird little pitter-patter rhythm - something you only associate with kittens and Hugh Grant films. Toby listens with a knowing smile, which you choose to ignore.

“Oh, and guess who Julia got off with last night?” You say, maybe to change the subject off Van, after he’s handed a takeaway cup to the last of the customers. He raises a how eyebrows, looking at you with interest. Toby liked to act like he wasn’t interested in the gossip, stories swapped between you and Julia on long shifts - but you always caught him half listening, weighing in with his own comments if asked.

But before you can dish out the gossip on who you had walked in on in your kitchen this morning, Julia herself stomps through the door.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble with a smirk while Toby playfully hisses at her as she walks past “Ey, what time do you call this then?”

It’s 9, she’s an hour late. She had told you this morning she’d cleared it with Carly, when you had brought her water and painkillers. More as a front to question her on who you had found in the kitchen than being concerned for her head. She’d seen through it and buried herself under her duvet when you entered her room.

“Piss off,” she hisses back, taking off her sunglasses. No makeup and too much perfume, the telltale signs of a rough night. “And don’t even start you!” Pointing her sunglasses at you, your smug smile. You only hold your hands up to with a lingering smirk. Toby’s eyes flickering between you both.

The bell hanging from the door rings, drawing your attention back to the till as two mums with buggies and toddlers make their way in, the screeches of excited children make Julia shudder.

“Jesus Christ, kids shouldn’t be allowed out in public until at least midday on weekends,” she huffs under her breath and makes a beeline for the staff room. A chuckle - calling after her, telling her you had left breakfast muffins in the oven. The perfect combination of savory and sweet - the best hangover cure. Apart from more alcohol that is.

You’re loading up a tray with hot chocolates and coffees for the mums and kids when Julia re-emerges from the back room, taking a bite out of the muffin in her hand with a groan of your name, telling you that you were a lifesaver.

“Sure you can manage these? No more bad luck leftover? Need a side of salt?” Toby teases while handing you the tray over the counter, you roll your eyes - telling him not to remind you of yesterday’s disasters.

“So, wild night at the pub quiz I hear,” you hear Toby turning back to Julia while you walk away, biting down on the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. Recalling her texts.

You make your way out front to the terrace where the noisy kids have taken up residence at one of the tables, except now their shrieks seem to be in despair rather than delight. One of the women standing out on the path while the other is desperately trying to calm the boys, one already in tears. Inconsolable.

“Oh, what’s happened?!” You ask, a frown while setting the tray on their table.

“Pebbles ran away!” The older of the boys wail while pointing down the road. It’s then that you notice the abandoned dog leash on the ground beside your foot, one end under the seat of the chair, the other end clipped onto a collar.

“He must have wriggled out, a lad’s gone running after him - I hope-“ the woman is cut off by the younger boy’s screech of “There! Pebbles!!”

You follow his gaze, almost shaking your head and laughing - it’s Van, of course it’s fucking Van to the rescue. Sauntering back down the path with the runaway Yorkshire terrier in his arms, licking at his face.

You watch the look of adoration in the women’s eyes as he carries the dog back up to the table, the gleeful sounds of the kids. His smile widens once he spots you, hovering.

“Alright lids, see he’s fine! Just a little messer ain’t he?!” Van eases, dropping down on his haunches to hold the dog while the mum fiddles with adjusting the collar.

Ducking back inside while the chorus of ‘thank yous’ surround Van, grabbing a couple of chocolate chip cookies and pain au chocolats, sugar for the shock.

Once you set the treats down on the table, the boys wipe the end of their tears from their eyes. Sounds of delight resurface, something their mothers echo when you tell them not to worry, that the cookies and crossiants are on the house.

Van follows you back inside after high fiving the boys, winking at the women and blowing a kiss at the dog - who seemed rather taken with him. Holding the door open for you.

“You’re in early, thought rockstars didn’t get up ‘til noon,” you say as he follows you in. Eyes a little bloodshot, voice a little husky - but other than that he didn’t share any of Julia’s hangover symptoms. You wonder what kind of drinker he is.

“Eh, never been good at the whole rockstar thing me.” A lazy grin, reaching the counter where Julia stops mid rant about how bacon absolutely belongs in muffins. Their eyes lock, mirrored smirks - sharing the same secrets.

“Think you have someone that belongs to me, love.” He chuckles.

Julia hums in response, “think I’ll hang onto him a bit longer.”

You bite back a smile. This morning, walking into your kitchen at sunrise only to be greeted with a scruffy, bearded man. Vaguely familiar, from the countless interviews and live performances you had binged on YouTube. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, unbuttoned shirt and undone jeans, hand buried in his hair, staring blankly at the floor tiles. Clearly in the midst of a hangover from hell, possibly going through the fear. You could smell the stale alcohol.

“Er, morning?” You said quietly, blue eyes flickering up, a crooked smile, and a rasped “Mornin’, love.”

Like it was the most natural thing for him to be standing in your kitchen, like it was his kitchen even.

“Are you looking for sommat or?” You opened the fridge, glancing back over him. Hoping he wasn’t about to puke all over the place. He had that look.

“Yeah, just the last shreds of me dignity.. and anything.. cold, please... fuck,” he grumbles, pressing his head into his hands. You almost felt sorry for him, then you remembered the videos and messages from Julia last night and hide a smile by looking back into the fridge. Jug of iced water and a pint glass, handing him the full glass before rooting through the medicine drawer, painkillers.

“Aye, you’re a fuckin’ godsent, thanks angel.” Taking the painkillers and water from you. “Can see why Van’s so fond of you, coffee girl.”

There’s a lot of unpack in that sentence, and it was way too early. So you simply blink and watch him take the pills.

“Coffee girl?” You question eventually, arms crossing.

His eyes drift back over to you, grimacing while he sips on the water. “Aye, you work down the café, wi’ Julia, reet?”

You knew you shouldn’t have, but when opportunity arises, you can’t help it. Winding him up. It’s a rare morning you’re in a good mood, able to communicate in more that one syllable words.

“No? Dunno what you’re on about mate, Julia works down the cafè.. heard her mentioned someone called Van a few times, seemed like they had a thing, yeah?”

A flash of panic in his eyes, practically hearing the flurry of curse words going through his head. The prospect of the fact he’s probably shagged someone his best mate is ‘fond of’. Quirking a brow while he stared.

“Nah, she said.. You.. fuck.. fuck me,” a string of grumbles, clearly trying and failing to get his head straight - remember what had happened last night, what Julia had told him. Hands patting down his jeans, pulling out his phone with a heavy sigh. He curses at the screen. “Fuck, Van’s gon-“

“Hey,” you decide to put him out of his misery. He was growing paler by the second, and you were getting more and more worried about the prospect of cleaning up puke. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”

Realisation hitting - eye narrowing at you, telling him your name, confirming that you were indeed the coffee girl who worked with Julia. He shakes his head, a gruff noise and crooked smirk.

“Jesus, threw me for a loop there... well played, my dear... I like you already,” holding out his first, “Am Johnny,” he says while you knock your knuckles against his. You refrain from telling him you knew that already.

“Well, he’s kinda crucial in our band and that, so afraid I get first dibs, darlin’” Van’s voice drags you back to the present.

“So you’re saying you’re going on tour again soon, eh?” Julia tilts her head.

A breathy little laugh - “Bands do more than just tour, yanno?”

“You do realise the internet is a thing, Van - we could literally google your tour dates right now and find out. So your mysterious bullshit ain’t flying anymore.” She rolls her eyes, another bite of her muffin.

Since finding out he was in Catfish, neither of you had ever thought about checking on the tour dates, when he came he came and when he left he left, and that’s that. No wondering if he’d show up when the tour was up. Simple, no attachments. You and Julia even named a local stray cat after Van who you fed from time to time when he came snooping around the bins outside, the easiness of coming and going.

So why were your fingers suddenly itching for your phone.

“Ah, love! Why ruin the little mystery that’s left then? Like I said - we do other stuff too, could have label stuff to do, graftin the next album... cheers, mate.” Trailing off once Toby slides his caramel latte over the counter, something he had got him hooked on a year or so ago. “Fuckin missed this.” He says as if every other coffee shop has yet to discover caramel.

“So yous are doing a new album then, that it?” Julia persists, rolling your eyes at her blatant attempts at winding him up. But he catches on, a lazy grin, licking his lips.

“Ain’t ya too hungover to be fuckin’ with us like this?” He calls her out, a smirk.

She shrugs while her eyes slide over to the elderly couple that come in every morning, sitting in their usual spot. Calling over to them that their tea and scones are on the way, fond calls back of ‘take your time, pet.’ telling Van she’s not finished with him before heading into the back to get a teapot.

“What happened last night anyways?” Toby interjects, bemused look across his features. Completely left out of the loop, obviously not getting anything out of Julia when you left them a while ago.

Taking the opportunity to pull up Julia’s messages - putting you phone down on the counter between the three of you. The video is obviously taken at the time of the night where all rational thoughts are lost to drinks. Loud music, girls screams - background static, Johnny Bond stood at the bar, downing three consecutive shots of what you assume is tequila, Julia’s giggles soundtrack while following him out the smoking area, turning back to the camera and taking off his cap with slur of ‘mind this for me, love’ before he proceeds to do a handstand against a wall for 15 seconds. Confused onlookers as Julia counts it out.

Amused sounds - Toby and Van, Julia passing back around the counter in search of scones for the couple, she glances over your shoulder at the video.

“Ey, anyone who does a handstand after 3 shots of tequila without vomming earns their space in my bed.”

There’s another video from about 20 minutes later of Larry stood on a table, Kylie Minogue blaring, and he’s doing an enthused rendition of the Can’t Get You Outta my Head dance mixed with a bit of the Macarena. Cheers erupting around him, wolf whistles.

Van - a rasped cackle, “send that one onto me, that’s too good! Never gon let him live that one down!”

You watch him while he watches the video again a few times over. His eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks when he looks down, fingers restlessly tapping against his coffee mug, soft chuckles. Feeling Toby give you a nudge, a wink when you look up. Letting you know he caught you, shaking your head with your best ‘fuck off’ eyes.

“So why were you making the lads humiliate themselves for your entertainment then?” Toby asks Julia once she circles back around the counter

“‘Cause, the lads bet me that they’d beat us at the pub quiz,” she explains, helping herself to another muffin. “Johnny spent half the time outside smoking, and Van and Larry fuckin’ argued over every question and ended up writing down bullshit made up answers.”

Toby asks where Van’s forfeit video is, you’re only half listening now - taking orders of the few people who just came in, but you zone back in once you hear your name mentioned.

“-and after I told him she was workin’ late closing up, never seen anyone down their pint so quickly, what was the excuse again, Van? Jet lag was it?”

Glancing up at that to find him already looking at you, catching his eye, his lips tilt making his dimple pop out. It lasts less than a second, your eyes darting back down to the pecan pie you’re cutting. Feeling your cheeks warm up. He never mentioned that he had run into Julia at the pub last night, remembering how he just said he was on his way home. Although, you were half sure it did have nothing do with you, more likely he was just sick of Julia’s drunken bullshit.

“Nah, just quite like that pub and want to be able to show me face in there again, innit.” He tells her, a laugh.

You grab a basin and walk away to start to clear tables, not really wanting to hear anymore of Julia’s torments. You’re happier zoning out, getting lost in your own thoughts, smiling and small talk with a few regulars. On you’re way back to the kitchen when you hear Van again as you walk past, catching your elbow.

“You in then too, Glasvegas?”

“Sorry, what?” Turning back to him, you had been thinking if Julia would be up for getting chipper on the way home after the pub tonight. You were already craving garlic cheese chips.

“Coming down Cassidy’s tonight? Van’s buying first round for being a pussy last night.” Julia quips, and you look from him to her. Fuck, remembering Van’s confession about wanting to buy you a drink last night. Julia’s looking at with you a smug expression, knowing you can’t get out of this one. You and her always went out on Saturday night’s - either just the two of you, or a group of friends. But going to the pub with Van and his mates, your heart skips a few beats, uneasiness. You give her a look before letting your eyes slide back to Van, an expectant look, finishing off his cinnamon bun.

“Er, I dunno..”

“Dunno if you’re up for going to the pub? Like we don’t go out every Saturday night?” Julia tilts her head, feigning mock innocence. You knew what she was doing, and you glare. A non-verbal ‘you’re being a dick.”

“Well, er, it’s been a long week.. yanno. I’m kinda tired.. was thinkin’ of staying in and having a quiet one,” you’re backing slowly into the kitchen as you say this, feeble excuses. “And I’m.. I’m trying to save some and that.”

“So me and you will do pre-drinks at ours,” Julia pushes, entertaining your excuses to a certain extent, but not letting you get out of it.

“And I’m buying first round,” Van adds.

“So, it’s just one drink really.” Julia confirms.

“Jus’ one drink.” Van reaffirms.

“Just one drink?” You say, somewhat defeated.

Toby glances up from the coffee machine, a chuckle. “Now when’s the last time anyone went out and actually had just one drink?”

Van leaves a little while later, Toby giving him a tray of coffees for Larry and Bondy if he’d yet ventured back from your place, you sending him off with a bag of hangover cures in form of pastries and cakes.

He came back in a few minutes later, forgetting his stamp on his loyalty card.

“2 down, eight to go. Cheers, see yas later.” He walked back out, a spring in his step. You turned to Julia.

“What the fuck, Jules?! Will you leave us alone and stop tryin’ to setup me up with Van fuckin’ McCann!” Exasperated tone, she only shook her head and giggled. “S’not funny! He probably already has a girlfriend and you’re here makin’ us look desperate!”

“Dunno what you’re on about, babe!” She says while heading out to clean up the terrace, humming matchmaker matchmaker under her breath. She turns back to you as she reaches the door “Oh, and he deffo doesn’t have a girlfriend, found that out last night for ya. You’re welcome!” She beams, all but skipping out the door.

You somehow resist the urge to chuck the tea towel in your hands at her head.

#part3 will prob be later today or tomorz I spilt it up becaus it was getting way too long #anyway yeah #vanfic #catb fanfics #Van McCann fanfic

[wrienne]

My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 3: First Impression

Dead silence.

The only thing reminding you that you were still alive or that time hadn’t somehow ceased was the furious beating of your heart. And of course, the fact that you could feel your face growing rapidly redder.

Life wouldn’t let you get away with such embarrassment. It was too cruel for that.

“Jungkook, isn’t she that family friend of yours?”

The guy who spoke and finally broke the spell keeping everyone paralyzed was about the same height as Jungkook. You couldn’t see his hair or much of his face, but you recognized him due to his low voice, which had enthralled a whole stadium of people just an hour and a half ago with a heart-achingly painful song. “V”, you think he had introduced himself as, sometime during the beginning of the concert.

“She is?”

The second speaker was the tallest among the group. He unhooked one side of his mouth mask from behind his left ear, revealing all of his face. You recognized him, he was the leader of the group: Rap Monster. He scratched his cheek and looked at you like you were a particularly difficult quiz.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen her face before, in the news.”

The third speaker was the shortest among the group. He had instinctively stepped forward as soon as Jungkook had cursed at you, but now relaxed. You couldn’t tell who it was but judging by his light voice, you had an idea.

Someone snapped his fingers and pulled down his mouth mask so that it bunched up beneath his chin, revealing a pointy nose and high cheekbones. “That’s right, whenever the two of you meet, you always occupy the headline of Star News.” You knew who it was, but you didn’t remember his name. Something about hope, you recalled. “Your name was…”

“(Y/F/N).” A guy almost as tall as Rap Monster chimed in. He was the only one without a mouth mask and you recognized him instantly as Jin - he had blown kisses into Min-Ji’s camera. “I knew I spotted you in the audience. You were almost in the front, right? Together with the girls with the big camera?”

Se-Eun, Min-Ji and Yeon-Woo would be overjoyed when you told them that Jin remembered them. Or well, if you were even able to. You couldn’t wrap your head around the notion that Jungkook was the visibly angry one - he looked ready to murder someone. That was supposed to be your role.

“Damn it,” Jungkook muttered, his eyes still locked onto you. “Why are you here?”

You couldn’t respond. You saw a coat too tiny and frilly to possibly fit him in the nook of his arm and a tiny, light blue designer bag dangling from his shoulder. In one of his hands, he held his phone, in the other, two plastic bottles of water.

He wasn’t wearing the engagement band.

The golden ring almost felt like it scorched the skin on your finger. You were tempted to yank it off and hurl it at his stupid face.

“Why are you cursing her out?” V asked after another moment of silence. He didn’t sound accusatory or hostile, simply deeply perplexed. You realized that he had understood that something was off with the whole situation, although he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it yet.

“Oh, so she’s the heiress of Phoenix Inc.? Honey, I thought she was a coordi-unnie!”

Up until then, Yi-Jae had remained quiet. But the way her voice wandered through her words made you frown. Why did she sound almost too innocent?

Jungkook’s eyes softened a notch when he glanced at her. You had never thought you would say or even think it but the way his gaze melted at the sight of her made you nauseous. How long had they been together? How long had he lied to your parents?

And if he loved someone else, why did he remain engaged to you?

“No,” he replied in a clipped tone. “(Y/N), if we could speak in private for a moment?”

It took you a beat before you realized everyone waited for your answer. “Okay,” you mumbled.

“We’ll wait in the car,” Rap Monster said as he patted Jungkook on the shoulder twice.

Yi-Jae left your side and hurried to Jungkook. He handed her the coat, the bag and the water, and she returned his jacket. Almost intuitively, he bent down to let her peck him on the cheek and briefly hugged her hand before letting go.

Strangely, it ached in your chest.

She put on her coat, which had a hoodie attached to it, and concealed her face and hair furthermore underneath a cap and a mouth mask. Two security guards escorted her down the hall whence you and she had arrived, most likely taking her to the other side of the stadium. Her eyes flitted over to you briefly with a curious look in them as she passed.

She had known. You were sure of it. She had played you, not the other way.

Well, at least you weren’t feeling bad for having tried to exploit her anymore.

A few security guards escorted Rap Monster and the others out of the building, together with what you guessed were the remaining staff. Someone you hadn’t noticed up until then found your gaze. His slim, dark eyes were expressionless above the white mouth mask he wore, but a shiver traveled down your spine when you realized he hadn’t spoken even once. He had simply observed. He was the seventh member of BTS, and though you couldn’t remember his name, you remembered his bone-chilling, second solo performance with a song in a completely different style than the rest of the concert. His words had felt like they physically pierced into you.

There were a few shouts and excited yelling as soon as the door to the outside opened. The guy broke away from your gaze and slipped out just after Rap Monster.

Then there would be only you two.

It took about ten minutes for the guards to shoo away the fans and allow all of the staff to leave. Ten minutes were too slight of a time frame for you to ready yourself in a confrontation against Jungkook. You stared into the worn rubber floor all that time while trying to find the right questions.

Since when? How?

Why?

As soon as the door shut and everyone was out, Jungkook stalked toward you. You glanced up just as he stopped at half an arm’s length away from you. His face was make-up free and the tips of his hair that poked out from underneath his cap were wet. He wore an unreadable expression as he crossed his arms and looked down at you. That’s when you realized he was significantly taller than you.

When had he grown up so fast?

“Why are you here?”

“I was invited by Se-Eun,” you said stiffly.

Jungkook’s eyebrows knitted together. “And it didn’t occur to you to say no?”

“Briefly,” you replied through your teeth. You couldn’t believe him. What did he have for a reason to be so angry with you? He was the wrongdoer! “But since I’ve never been to one of your concerts, I thought: ‘I might as well.' I didn’t exactly expect to run into your girlfriend in the bathroom.”

His lips twitched but he didn’t seem to be able to muster a response. His brown eyes simply held yours, cold and unrelenting.

That was enough of an answer.

“Glad to finally meet her, though,” you said and smiled, even though it pained you. “How long were you expecting to keep us apart? Up until the marriage? Or even after it?”

“Hush,” he whispered, while looking suspiciously about. “I thought we agreed on never to mention it unless we were absolutely certain nobody could hear.”

“I thought we agreed that you and I would have to marry,” you said venomously. “That’s a two-man show in this country, at least the last time I checked. Does she know about us?”

He pressed his lips tightly together as he found your eyes again. You had always secretly admired the length and fluttery softness of his eyelashes, but now even that detail disgusted you. You were almost tempted to demand that he shouldn’t look at you, but you didn’t want to let him get away from replying.

“No,” he finally said. “She-- Everyone thinks we’re merely family friends.”

“Well,” you began, feeling colder than you had all evening. “Starting from today, that won't be a lie any longer.”

Jungkook frowned and for the first time in years, you saw something akin to fear in his brown eyes. “What do you mean?”

You tore off your ring and held it up before his eyes. “I’m breaking off our engagement. I don’t-- won’t get married to a cheater-scumbag like you. You can live happily ever after with someone else, like Park Yi-Jae. Smile, Jungkook - you’ll finally be rid of me.”

“No.”

His tone was hard, his eyes were harder still. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t think it’s up to you to decide,” you said in the sweetest voice you could muster. “As soon as I tell my mom and dad--”

“Please, you can’t.”

If you hadn’t known him better, you could have sworn a hint of desperation crept into his words just then. Even his face was convincing. But you knew, Jeon Jungkook was never despairing. He was rude, cold and uncaring of you. You could now also add “rotten liar” to the list and perhaps even “false”. He wasn’t the type of person to experience misery at you leaving him.

Right?

“You can’t break the engagement, (Y/N),” he pleaded. “Please.”

For a moment, you simply looked at Jungkook. You had spent years celebrating holidays and events with him and his parents. What would happen if you broke the engagement?

Your dad had a soft heart, and he would most likely still try to keep in touch with Jungkook’s parents. It was your mother that would cause trouble. Big trouble.

But who could blame her? Your parents and his had planned you and Jungkook's marriage practically for decades.

“I think you forced that decision for me when you chose to get romantic with another girl,” you said, surprising even yourself with how hurt you sounded.“I’m calling it off. You and I will never get married.”

You dropped the ring and began turning around when he grabbed your wrist. You glared at him over your shoulder. “Let go.”

“Not until I've had my say,” Jungkook said. “Please, (Y/N), just listen to me for a minute.”

You checked your phone. 23.11. Se-Eun and the others had waited more than half an hour for you. Were they even still outside?

Taking your silence as a cue to speak, Jungkook slowly released your wrist. “It wasn’t my intention to fall in love with her. It just happened. You can't really blame that on me.”

“You must think I'm way stupider than I am,” you hissed. You couldn't deny how much his words pained you. “Did you memorize the script of some romantic drama? Do you even hear yourself?”

He blew out a long breath through his nostrils and took off his cap to rake his fingers through his damp hair. You recognized this behavior: he was getting really frustrated. But why?

“How long have you and I known each other?” you went on when he remained silent. “How long have we known we would have to marry? I mean, I know that neither of us particularly like the other, but I at least thought we would be able to make this work. Wasn't that what you promised my parents and yours? What you and I promised each other?”

“I… I can explain,” he managed, his gaze turning sorrowful. “I just... I need some time.”

“You need time?” you exclaimed incredulously. “You know what,” you began as you backed away from him. “I don't even want to know. Live happily ever after with her or whoever else, I don't care. I'm out.”

“Are you crying?”

“No, I'm not,” you said as you instantly touched the corners of your eyes. To your dismay, your fingers came away wet. “Stay away from me, Jungkook,” you added as he started following you. “I don't really want to see you. In fact, I'm certain I never want to see your face again.”

“That’ll be difficult considering I'm an idol."

“Don't try to sound smart. You know what I mean.” You turned away from him and started walking. “I never want to see you again, Jeon Jungkook.”

#bts fanfiction #ao3 #wrienne #MCAF

[blobfromthestars]

Yesterday me and my friend sat for 6 and a half hours to listen to the entirety of Everywhere at the End of Time. Things I noticed during it:

-The beginning is really nice, we were sorta just chatting and working on a drawing together

-I kept describing the songs as being technicolor and having old film artifacts in them

-My headphones are really good so I kept hearing all the tiny sounds and effects, like a sound playing in my left ear a fraction of a second before my right

-Right around the second or third phase it got harder to focus, I stutter a lot when stressed and I started stumbling over every sentence

-Art became impossible and we stopped drawing

-I kept describing how I felt as "when you do a really bad clip in a video game and your model jitters and stutters trying to sort itself" and "the exact inverse of the guy who drank a bunch of Nyquil on Tumblr"

-I would not stop referencing The Mind Electric

-At one point my brain felt like it had shut off and I had my eye squashed against my mic, to the concern of my friend

-I had to get my cat and was told I walked like I'm intoxicated

-My body felt like it had both duplicated over and over again and also stopped existing at the same time, terrible feeling I do not recommend it

-I started just showing pictures of nudibranches because I like them, we also tried to do a buzzfeed quiz. I am apparently bread

-"This section is called Temporary Bliss State." "You're fuckin lying to me, this is somehow worse"

-I accidentally sat on my leg for a whole hour without realizing

-To keep me present my friend kept making jokes and doing dumb stuff while encouraging me to flip him off repeatedly

-We both went silent for the last two hours, mostly only talking through text and what little sign I know

-The album ended and I sat there for about 3 minutes with my brain displaying the CONNECTING TO SERVER... message

-Immediately after we both logged off I got a very loud phone call which did not help the situation

I give it a 7/10, I do not want to listen to it ever again, but it was an interesting experience. Don't listen to it if you're mentally unwell, and especially don't listen to it alone, it's better with a friend.

#everywhere at the end of time #thanks i hated this #it really sucked in the moment #kinda fun tho

[hopetofantasy]

Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E3

Zaterdag 08:10

Perfect parallel: An upset Robbe being little spoon to Noor this episode, him being a relaxed little spoon to Sander in the last one.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Moyo has half eaten wafers cookies on his bed. Between the cellphone time and timestamp, it took Robbe five minutes to get dressed and to the beach. The beautiful angel pendant makes its first appearance.

Bonus: This cinematography trick of using a wide shot with nobody else in the sight, makes us actually feel how lonely Robbe actually is. 

°

Zaterdag 08:23

C is for culture: “Vamanos” - As you may have noticed, Flemish has a lot of words that aren’t typically Dutch. These are called ‘leenwoorden’ (= ‘borrowing words’). In some cases, the language has made the word its own, with their conjugation or sound (like barbecue - barbecuet - or e-mail - ge-e-maild), other times the expression is copied completely (like smartphone or laptop). There are various reasons as to why people don’t want to change it: globalization, wanting to be more vague/cool, general laziness, ...

Perfect parallel: 

Sander’s playful “Are you the manager?” and “That’ll be zero stars on Booking.com” to Robbe when they meet in this episode, Sander’s sheepish “Zero stars on Booking.com” and Robbe’s pointed “Where is that manager when you need him?”, when they have their fall-out in a later episode. 

Sander saying “When I booked this room, I explicitly asked for room-service” here and him actually booking a room with room-service for the both of them later on.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens’ keyboard is lying on top of the closet. Sander grabbing his keys (to his car?).

°

Zaterdag 08:44

C is for culture: The option to use self-scanning is pretty common in Belgian supermarkets, especially in shop-and-go city stores. You pick up the scanner, scan the stuff you buy, go to a counter, pay and walk out with your groceries. A sales assistant is still present to help out with problems or do random routine checks. It’s fast, easy and cost-efficient. The downside? Shoplifting becomes a bit easier this way.

That’s character: Sander is putting up a ‘cool guy, devil may care’ facade. He jokes about not scanning everything, dismisses Amber’s list, whirls the shopping cart around and sings David Bowie to this boy. He wants to make a lasting impression on Robbe. If he’s the most charming, chaotic and adventurous version of himself, then he doesn’t have to think about other stuff like his own crumbling relationship. (Also the reason why he doesn’t answer the question about Amber: they simply met through Britt). As the boxes fall down, so does Sander’s tough exterior, as he never intended to hurt Robbe by playing around in the supermarket.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +3, he almost topples off the cart twice and drops the chocolate bars on the floor. (The crash with Sander isn’t his fault though)

Oopsie: 

Sander is wearing a leather jacket, but we don’t see it in the previous clip. Either he left it in his car or it’s an ‘oopsie’.

When Sander accidentally tosses Robbe into the boxes, we hear glass breaking. However, in the next shot, the boxes seem to empty (and they were supposed to be filled with chips, which don’t make that sound).

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Sander is wearing black Converse. They bought Jupiler beer. Robbe pulls out ‘Delhaize’ Biscuit chocolate bars and Florentin cookies.

°

Zaterdag 13:13

C is for culture: "Croques” - The word ‘croque’ is an abbreviation for ‘croque monsieur’ (= ‘crunch mister’). These are grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a typical greasy snack at taverns, markets, carnivals, your home, ... Other versions include the ‘croque madame’ topped with a fried egg, ‘croque bolognese’ with bolognese sauce, ‘croque hawai’ with a pineapple slice.

That’s character: It’s clear that Robbe has no idea how to eat properly. All throughout the season he eats unhealthy breakfasts (choco spread with cookies), snacks (chips, cookies) and dinners (Aïki noodles, frozen lasagna). But here we see the reason: he doesn’t seem to know how to cook or work a stove. Exactly why he buys prepackaged or instant food options. So, it’s probably for the best that Zoë helps out his eating habits.

Perfect parallel:

Robbe making an unhealthy breakfast in the previous episode, Sander providing him with an unhealthy snack in this one. (The way to a man’s heart is through the stomach)

Britt’s condescending “Listening to David Bowie again?” in this episode, her calling Robbe his next obsession similar to David Bowie later on. 

Sander’s “Do you know where I can find the coffee?” to Robbe in an earlier scene and his “Was coffee on the list?” to Amber here.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +2, he stumbles backwards after Sander touches his shoulder and burns himself after turning the ‘croque’.

Nod to the OG: This kitchen scene is the equivalent of the ‘5 fine frøkner’ scene, as Sander sings his favorite song to Robbe and makes breakfast, whilst both flirt with each other (subtly).

Oopsie: They supposedly went to ‘Delhaize’ for all their groceries, but the ketchup bottle comes from ‘Carrefour’ and the butter from ‘Colruyt’. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Sander messes up the first words to ‘Under Pressure’ - it’s ‘pressure’ not ‘under pressure’. He mixes the weed with tobacco for his joint. The conflict on Sander’s face at the end.

°

Zondag 16:34

C is for culture: "What kind of shit question is this?” - They’re playing ‘De Slimste Mens ter wereld’ (= ‘The smartest human on earth’), a board game by the popular Flemish television show with the same name. The quiz is very challenging. People have to solve associative, general knowledge and out-of-the-box questions with multiple answers in different rounds. Points are awarded in the form of seconds, which are used during the game. The candidate with time left at the end, wins.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The group is drinking white wine out of plastic cups. Sander studied at ‘de!Kunsthumaniora’, the same school as Noor. Sander’s wearing his combat boots again.

°

Maandag 15:12

C is for culture: Aaron is wearing a bunny costume for the paintball game ‘Hunt the bunny’. This is usually played by people on a bachelor party or a corporate team building (with the groom/boss as the bunny). The goal is simple: the bunny has to cross the field from one corner to another, whilst the hunters shoot as much paintballs as possible to ‘kill’ it. Which is... rather painful, especially at close range. 

Oopsie: What they’re doing is actually illegal or even impossible. People aren’t allowed to play paintball in protected environments, like dunes. Unless they’re doing it with a specialized organization who’s trained for these games (and are present at the time of playing) or have the written permission from the ‘Agency of Nature and Forest’, the police, the city, ... There is a whole heap of permissions, administrative papers and laws to deal with. 

Lost in translation: Britt saying “Doe normaal” (= “Act normal”) has nothing to do with her dismissing Sander’s mental health. This Flemish phrase is often used to calm people down, telling them that they’re acting rather irrationally or childish. It’s an angry way of saying “Can’t you behave yourself? Calm down. What are you doing? Be rational!”. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The blue and red flags tells us that they’re going to play ‘capture the flag’. Some of the ‘pfff’ gun sounds you hear, indicate that the air pressure needs to be checked. Moyo took off his protection mask, which is dangerous and sometimes considered a foul during the game.

°

Dinsdag 20:02

C is for culture: "Do you know how to make s’mores?” - Toasting marshmallows above a campfire, isn’t really a tradition in Belgium. So that’s why the girls don’t know how to make s’mores. 

Lost in translation: ’Smoor’ is a Flemish dialect word for smoke or the act of smoking. It does sound a lot like ‘s’mores’. This is why Luca thinks Aaron wants to hold the marshmallow into the fire. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Of course Robbe had nothing to lose with Noor, he wasn’t actually interested in her. With Sander, however, Robbe doesn’t dare to do anything.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Aaron is drinking ‘Bock’ beer. Amber looks at Aaron like she really likes him, when he’s preparing the s’mores.

°

Woensdag 20:42

C is for culture: 

“An old german bunker” - The province of West-Flanders as well as its coast still has a lot of remnants left from WWI. From German bunkers to trench-networks, burial sites and museums, the 'Great war’ left its traces. Unsurprisingly, every year, people still find around 300 tons of (active) bombs underneath the fields.

“Around ‘All Souls’ Day’ they come back to life” - ‘All Souls’ Day’ is a christian holiday on the 2nd of November, on which the dead are commemorated. However, since that day isn’t an official holiday in Belgium, people visit the graves and honor of their loved ones on the 1st of November, ‘All Saint’s Day’. 

The group drinking ‘jenever’ shots - ‘Jenever’ (known in English as ‘Dutch gin’ or ‘genever’) is a traditional liquor in Belgium and the Netherlands. Young people usually drink these colored, high percentage spirits at Christmas markets, pre-drinks or parties when it’s cold outside. Different flavors include vanilla, chocolate, berries, lemon, apple, ...

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The wooden panel behind Jens says ‘Volg de pijlen’ (= ‘Follow the arrows’). Aaron and Amber are holding hands after their fall. Robbe downs a chocolate-cream ‘jenever’ shot at the end. 

°

Woensdag 21:53

Perfect parallel: Robbe lashing out at his friends in this episode - he feels left out and confused about his sexuality - and blames the pranks. Him doing the same in the next - he thinks his friends are hypocrites by saying homophobic comments to him yet defending the gay teacher - and blames the vlogs. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The second living room has a spinning disco light.

°

Donderdag 21:12

C is for culture:

“In dat jeugdhuis” - A ‘jeugdhuis’ (= ‘youth house’) is a meeting place, run by young volunteers. All teens and young adults are welcome to hang out, throw parties, drink at their bar, organize concerts, attend workshops - just making the space their own. 

“He sounded like a begging Romanian” - Luca is referring to Romanian Romani families, who roam around in the streets of Brussels begging for some money. These ethnic groups have a mostly negative image amongst the Europeans. Which is why she states this harsh and hurtful comparison.

Perfect parallel: Noor asking Robbe for a playlist so she can listen to his favorite songs here, Sander actually making a Bowie playlist for Robbe in the next episode.

Lost in translation: Luca is mocking the West-Flemish dialect by copying what the boy said, namely “Moe’en julder ok ‘n flyer ‘ennen?”. This dialect is known for blowing their ‘g’ and ‘h’ so that they sound similar, conjugating their 'yes’ or ‘no’, having double subjects, seemingly swallowing some letters, among other things. It’s one of the most confusing and difficult dialects for the Flemish to understand themselves.

Oopsie: When Aaron asks Amber if she needs a drink, Britt and Sander are dancing right behind him. When she answers and walks away, they’re suddenly gone, only to be seen again when Moyo walks over.

Nod to the OG/Wink to other remakes: The ‘call your girlfriend’ kiss, duh! 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jana is wearing one white contact lens.

°

Vrijdag 08:43

Perfect parallel: 

Sander searching for coffee first thing in the morning earlier this episode and him pouring a cup before any task in this clip.

Sander’s “Maybe I’m scared that I will never find someone” here and Robbe’s multi-layered “I’m so happy that I found you” in the last episode.

Oopsie: When the boys walk to the recycling spot, the lighting changes from sunny to clouded to dark in a matter of seconds.

Funny coincidence: Sander referring to his relationship as ‘ups and downs’, probably similar to his experience with bipolarity.

Wink to other remakes: An almost kiss near trash, remind you of certain Italian boys?

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Amber delegating tasks, but doing nothing herself. Robbe smiles for a few milliseconds, because Sander touched him. The flash of panic in Robbe’s eyes afterwards.

#wtfock #wtfam #cpm rewatch #skam #skam belgium

[the-lost-media-blog]

Saki Sanobashi/Go for a Punch (Warning: Mentions of violence and suicide)

Alright, the first post for my new blog. Teach, if you’re reading this than hi :). Okay, lets get started!

Go For A Punch (also known as Saki Sanobashi) is a supposed lost anime that is speculated to have been made in either the 80′s or early 90′s that only have a sub available.

The first mention of Saki is on a 4-Chan comment on a post in 2015 asking about what was the most messed up thing found on the Deep Web. The comment in question said that they (the one who told the internet about this and will be called OP) they found the Deep Web. OP went on to describe how, in 2011 they found a subbed anime OVA called, at least on the site, ‘Go For A Punch’. In it, they described what it was about, so here’s the brief description:

Nine girls are trapped inside of a bathroom with no way out, they have debates over whether or not they’re going to get out. After days of starving, and being naked for some reason (honestly idk either), all of them commit suicide by either bashing their heads in against the floor/clawing at their throats, with one girl with a bright -almost white- hime cut being drowned by another girl in the sink because she couldn’t do it herself. ( below is a reference image of the hair cut.)

The OP mentions that it was 80′s-ish in quality, most girls had short bushy brown hair (there was also the hime cut girl who might have white hair, there’s a red-head and apparently a blonde?), the eyes were small and far apart, strange camera angels, a scream that sounded like the scream Dies Irae from Stanly Kubrick’s The Shinning, the player on the site is similar to the modern Bing Player, and that there really wasn’t any music. People questioned OP as the whole thing sounded interesting, and defiantly stood out from the troll and basic ‘I saw real gore’ posts. One of these comments is where the name Saki Sanobashi came from.

The search went on for 5 years as of when I’m writing this, blowing up after YouTuber Whang posted a video on November 21, 2019 as apart of his ‘Tales From The Internet’ series, which brought more attention to it as part one has 779k views at the current time of writing.

One thing I would like to note is that many people have claimed to have seen Saki, some going into details that OP didn’t list, but sadly the majority of those posts have been proven false, with one admitting that their lie was only made to show how gullible people are, and will believe that anything’s Saki. 

Many people were hoping to find this lost anime, one person made a series where they go over manga/anime to see if it’s Saki (the series is on YouTube with a least 50 parts). There has been many false leads, one of which includes the profile pic I’m using claiming the girl was from Saki, but it’s not. Another reason for why the search got crazy was because of all the gore filled anime from back then. Like seriously, there’s a lot there some are more known than others. Also, side note, Saki Sanobashi/Go For A Punch has it’s own TV Tropes page, which is how you know it got big. 

But on December 22, 2019 someone claiming to be OP made a post on one of the many sub-reddits. 

They said that they made it all up for laughs since they thought the creator of the original 4-Chan thread was an idiot for expecting a serious answer, and OP’s coming forward since they feel bad for how crazy this all had gotten. Their proof was screen shots of the hime girl (which is above and why I chose it) and a book spine which was OP’s pic for the very first post on 4-chan, both screenshots dated for 2015, as well as the Bing player, and the Dies Irae scream.

Now, many people, like myself, are assuming that this OP might not be the real OP. One of the main reasons being why would they still hold onto those specific images, for nearly 4 years at that point, if it was for a troll post. This OP said it’s because they don’t delete downloaded pics, which sound off to me. I will delete pics on my phone if I don’t see a reason to keep it (example: I’ll keep a pic of the Halloween Timeline so I can keep track of which films are on which timeline, but delete a screenshot from a BuzzFeed quiz). But, never the less, some people gave up on the search, leading one of the sub-reddits to become nothing but memes, and the other ones had to pick up the slack. 

One group on the sub-reddit is claiming to be making the OVA themselves under the title Team Saki, the trailer’s on YouTube so I suggest that you look it up yourself. I’ve also heard of a possible Visual Novel being made of Saki on one of the sub-reddits. Also, there’s tons of fanart of Saki out there, so if you wanna see how some see it then go ahead search if you want to, there’s a whole sub-reddit dedicated just to artwork. On TikTok, there’s plenty of lovely cosplays as well.

Another thing I feel like mentioning is that there’s a music video made by a J-Pop (Japanese Pop) group, that some people claim is inspired by Saki. I kind of see that, I mean, the art shown at the start looks 80′s-ish, and there are some basic similarities. But, that being said, I’m betting it’s all a coincidence, and we have no clue what the Lost Media scene is like in Japan as Lost Media is different in every country (as the Lost Media ice-burg, made in Spanish, has shown). I’ve Googled if it was, and I’ve seen some sites claim that, but I’m sticking with it’s a coincidence until there’s an official claim from the band themselves to confirm the inspiration so I’m not going by word of mouth. 

Here’s the music video if you wanna check it out and there’s also (fake) blood as well as a suicide scene in it, so just to let you know so you’re not caught off guard when it happens. They stay dressed though, with only the pantyhose getting cut. Here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kBK33DvIoM

So as of when I’m writing, all we have is the mentioned teaser, concept art on the sub-reddit for both the animation and visual novel, an odd half live-action half drawn recreation clip made October 30, 2019. As well as just loads of dead ends. Some people hope that if we find it, or at the very least Team Saki turns out good or it leads to the real deal comes out because of something like a copyright claim or something.

I personally believe that it could exist some where out there, but maybe under a different name and somewhat buried on the internet. I meant if something that was banned such as Shoujo Tsukubki can find it’s way onto YouTube (aka the Surface Web/ Clear net) then it’s honestly possible it’s out there.

Either that or I just wasted your time with reading about something that might not even exist, so here have a kitty!

GO FOR A PUNCH/SAKI’S CURRENT STATUS:  Existence unconfirmed, but fan projects are being made.

#lost media #go for a punch #saki sanobashi #internet stories #first post for the blog #tw violence #tw suicide mention #internet things