#// i will still try to write one thing or so a day though but liiiiike... yeah. i'm hyped.

[typhoonvash]

// got called out at the ffxiv function (all friends) for being a big dork that's excited to take trigun inspired gposes in the wild west zone in dt...

.... i mean they got my ass, look at three of my glams

[demonsfate]

munday topics ! // accepting // @electricea asked . . . 6, 7 and 8

6. excessive ooc

Honestly... for the MOOOST part, I don't care about "excessive ooc". even though I tend to worry that I post too much ooc LOL. yes, ppl can have "personal blogs" to post ooc stuff to but like. I just understand that behind the muses, there is a real person with real feelings who might wanna share lil details of their lives. Especially when they have more followers on their rp blogs who are more likely to listen & respond than their personal blog does.

There are a couple scenarios where I will draw the line. That being if there is just no in character content. Like they've been logging on every day for weeks just to make several ooc posts and nothing more. Then I may unfollow just because, at that point, I question if I'll ever be able to actually write with them because they're not giving any ic stuff lol. Or when like they just SPAM the dash with reblogs that have NOTHING to do with their muses. I'm not saying musings or aesthetics posts - because those still pertain to the muse. I'm saying when they reblog stuff from other fandoms that have zilch to do with their blog. For example, it'd be like if I were to start reblogging lots of Death Note, lots of Supernatural, and lots of Bluey despite the fact that my blog is Tekken lol. Now that I find annoying bc I'm wondering really WHY can't you use a personal for that? Of course, ppl are always free to do what they want with their blogs - but that's one thing I don't get.

7. DNIs in rules

I'm like what you were saying, I will follow them if it's somebody I know I'm not gonna end up writing with anyone due to different fandoms or having never followed each other. Or if like, they have concrete proof that this person is to be avoided. But liiiiike... when ppl just drop a username in a DNI and has no other available information... I just can't help but wonder if that person did anything or if it was a personal spat between the two muns. Especially because I've been a personal "victim" of ppl telling their mutuals to not interact with me, that I should just delete, and saying just horrible untrue garbage about me. All because I wrote with sb they didn't like. (Though they were also infamous about pretending to be somebody's friend, then dropping them and suddenly acting like they're the Worst Person Ever with no actual evidence)

I understand if muns wanna set boundaries even if they simply don't like the other person, or they had a personal drift or whatever. But like... I'm gonna be honest, there are def ppl in the RPC that I don't care to see on my dashboard. But I don't think I'll ever have a DNI. I just use X-Kit, X-Kit Rewritten, and the Tumblr block feature to avoid them. Which yes, sometimes they might still "slip through" but like... if I just see them once in a blue moon, it's not gonna matter much to me. And this even applied to those who bullied me as I mentioned above.

So yeah, I do try to follow DNIs if it's one of my mutual, but I do often question the validity (sorry but with the past, I can't help but to) and well... I also have to apologize if I end up writing with sb in a "DNI" because I swear it feels like more and more ppl are having DNI lists now and it's like... when you're following nearly 200 people, it's probs hard to remember who's in a DNI and who's not, y'know? But like I also said, usually those in DNI lists tend to be in different fandoms than I am, anyway.

8. reblog karma

I don't follow it. I mean, of course, I'll always reblog posts from the source & send people in one (WHEN it's applicable. Obvs I'm not gonna send a smut / ship meme to somebody who my muse has no relation with) But like... people rarely follow reblog karma so I just see little point in enforcing it lol. Like even IF somebody does reblog from the source, you can always tell they reblogged it from you without sending you one. And honestly? I don't get wtf people even do that for when it comes to munday asks or headcanon asks. Like why? There is literally zero excuse for it. Shy? Send it through anon. It doesn't fit your character? It doesn't have to because it's just asking my character / or the mun a question. Like literally. That shit actually annoys me but again. What can you do? I'm not gonna demand ppl ... but I still never understand it.

And I understand some ppl say it clogs up the activity if it's reblogged straight from them. But honestly... I've just never had that problem before lmao. Like I've had personal blogs reblog memes I've made and those memes can get up to 20+ notes, and it still never bothers me. (Especially when a lotta times in Modern Tumblr Age, notifs for a single post tends to become one block)

I could actually complain more about this but uhhhh. I think I'll leave it at that. djfndjsf

[effervescentslut]

how you meet | fred and george weasley

Requested: Yes

Content Warnings: None tbh... well, a lot of Ron degradation dslnfjfgnkjsfnskdjdnkjsf all jokes, though... 

A/N: Woop woop we’re diving into the Harry Potter universe!! Sorry this took a bit to put together, I’ve been in a slump recently. I hope you enjoy! Friendly reminder that requests are open!!

Gryffindor!Reader

you became friends with ron in first year after he accidentally walked in on you changing into your robes on the train fkjcnxnjasndkjwefenkwrj

“blimey, i’m so sorry--”

you wanted to die tbh

but his quirkiness charmed you so you stuck with him for the rest of the train ride

even though his nose was dirty HA

you were tired of boarding with isobel macdougal, she was a nutcase

after following ron back to his compartment, you were acquainted with harry

they were pretty chill; apparently harry was some wizzy legend but you could not care less

you wanted to get off the mf hogwarts express™ your motion sickness was going berserk

ron seemed comfortable with the idea of attending hogwarts; he rambled about his older brothers nonstop who also went to school there

meanwhile you and harry were nervously looking at each other like

later that evening you get sorted into gryffindor ayyyy RAWR!!!!!

you met hermione after you both reached for the yorkshire pudding at the feast and she snatched her hand away from yours and blushed bc she accidentally touched you swenkdqknanjadnjwejfknw LMFAO POOR SHY GIRL

fred and george made a point to introduce themselves to ron’s new buds, much to his dismay, before everyone split off at the gryffindor tower

settling into school was pretty easy

you already had a great group of mates to hang around, they brought out the best in you

one day you’re walking to potions class with ron, harry, and hermione

you’re about to take a test hhhhhhhhhh nothing is more intimidating than being a gryffindor in the same room as professor snape

ron has been anxiously complaining about it to you guys and his brothers for weeks

“merlin, y/n, how am i supposed to know that eel eyes and frog eyes make the bulgeye potion? we’re only first years!”

hermione butts in, “actually ron, it’s eel eyes and beetle eyes--”

“shut it, hermione!” 

the twins™ pop in, making sure they catch ron before his impending doom

“maybe you should listen to her ron”

“yeah ron, you wouldn’t want mum to find out you failed your first potions test--”

“--when the potion only has two ingredients!”

ron’s cheeks and ears are flaming red ohhhh boy

fred and george turn around

“good luck to you, harry” *they shake his hands*

“good luck to you, y/n” *they shake your hands*

“good luck to you, herm-- ah, who are we kidding, she doesn’t need luck”

they turn back to ron

“good luck you especially, ronald”

“yeah, your life depends on it!”

they ruffle his hair and run off

you giggle at them and ron is  f u m i n g

you watch them scamper away and fondly admire them :’)

ron straightens his hair and says, “that was bloody embarrassing” 

“to be fair, what they said was true, ron” you reluctantly chime in

“oh, shove off, y/n”

... ron ended up flunking the test

after potions the next day, fred and george are RELENTLESS at dinner

you know those people who say virtually anything and you laugh like it’s the funniest thing to have ever been spoken? it’s me, i’m y/n. gemini tingzzzz

to you, that’s fred and george

they immediately learn this when you’re trying your damndest to not choke on your lamb chops while laughing

... and simultaneously trying to not laugh at ron because he’s your friend

but boy are his brothers funny

the twins feed off of your reactions and continue to brutally torment their younger brother

to the point where you ACTUALLY choke on your food and have to excuse yourself to the bathroom, still coughing and wheezing during your laughing fit

harry tries to not laugh with (and at) you

hermione is like.... uhh wtf just happened can i eat my treacle tarts in peace please??

ron is clearly annoyed by the entire situation

fred and george are smirking and ease up on their teasing because your reaction was better than anything ron could have mustered up

after that night, fred and george’s sole purpose for teasing ron around you was to gauge your reaction

scratch that

any time you were with the twins, they just HAD to get you to laugh at least once

ron was getting  f e d  u p

“honestly, y/n, they’re not even that funny!”

you roll your eyes

every time you were with ron you secretly hoped fred and george would show up xcndjksdnjkewnrwkjfna

the twins never teased you though bc they have a soft spot for you

cheering for harry, fred, and george at gryffindor quidditch matches!!

siding with the twins when they argue with ron about quidditch stuff

soon you become actual friends with fred and george

meeting a bunch of their friends from their year so now you have a bunch of upperclassmen mates i was the same exact way i would just be a groupie among my older peers hahahah

they’d help you pass cheat in any class you’re in

you’re their biggest supporter

just say the word and they’d do ANYTHING for their new “adoptive” sister

“maybe we should swap you out for y/n, ron”

percy knows to keep away from you because he’s afraid the twins are tainting you dncwdjkfnkwjefnkjew but he still keeps an eye out, ya know?

molly CAN NOT wait to meet you

she sends you an owl one day and makes you promise to keep fred and george in line... oh, and ron too LMFAOO

Non-Gryffindor!Reader

let’s face it

gryffindor or not...

no matter what year you’re in...

everyone knows who fred and george weasley are

you’re the same year as the weasley twins and they had already built up quite a reputation for themselves...

AS SECOND-YEARS!!

there had been so much gossip about these prankster twins floating through the corridors the past two years

even the professors had begun to complain LMAO

“those weasley boys are nothing like percy!”

“poor minerva must have her hands full with those rambunctious twins!!”

and sure, you’d had the occasional inter-house class with them, but hardly ever interacted with them

to be fair, they are a bit overwhelming to be around

anyways

it was quidditch season!!

and you hade made the chaser position for your house’s team!

so one day your team is playing against another (non-gryffindor) team

and like... you’re good

BLOODY GOOD

you score quite a couple goals and the seeker even catches the snitch! (as if you needed the snitch to win the game liiiiike you really carried your team)

fred and george are supporting your team because 1. they know good quidditch when they see it and 2. you’re definitely the mvp

the unspoken mvp of your team

and they’re scared for gryffindor’s match against your house fkjsfnkjrnrkfw

because they’re beaters

and the opposing team’s beaters were allegedly good uh oh

how tf are they gonna juke you out??

anyways

after the match you’re celebrating with your team

you bid them goodbye and head back to your common room so you can finish your paper for history of magic

when a pair of identical, red-haired, gryffindor boys take you by surprise and pop up out of nowhere

your grip on your quidditch bag slips and you drop your bag

you sigh, “can i help you?”

“brilliant work out there today!”

“sorry about your bag”

george hands you your duffel

your eyes narrow as you grab it, your focus flitting to fred and then george

“listen, binns is gonna have your heads if you don’t write two separate papers this time--” 

“we don’t want to talk to you about class right now...”

“...we’re here to beg for your mercy on us when you play gryffindor in a few months”

you snort and push past them, “if you two stop pestering me in fourth hour, then i’ll consider it”

you spin around on your heels, “and i have a name, you know!!”

“we know your name, y/n!” 

“we know who EVERYONE is!”

“go write your papers!!”

[unsettledink]

(Part two of looking back at the fandoms I was in and the fics I wrote in 2020)

(Part one here.)

*

Most popular story:

    By Kudos (and comments), Seiche : By hits, Indefensible : On tumblr, Pocket Change

Story you wish was more successful:

    Well, that’s kind of the curse of writing rare pairs. I want anything with Tony/Quentin or Peter/Quentin to be more successful, lol. Defining the feeling of success in fandoms/pairings like that is tricky, because— do I wish they’d gotten more attention? Of course! Do I consider them fairly successful because they got any attention? Yeah, kinda.

Something like Intent got very little response, but considering the size and age of the fandom, it actually felt successful to get any response?

The entire Old Adages series I really wish had found an audience; I’m very fond of it, and it’s… softer than I usually write? The filthy smutty kinky stuff always outpreforms anything else, and that sort of thing feels easy for me. And I’m extrapolating a lot for young Quentin’s characterization, so I’m a little insecure about that as well.

Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story:

    You know, there are several stories I feel like should be that? But let’s be honest, considering what I’ve written in the past, they’re not that bad. 

    So I’m going to have to go with Creepy Crawly. I mean, I get squicked a little if I read it in the wrong mindset. SPIDERS D:

Hardest story to write:

    Causality. I just… could not quite connect somehow. I had the image in my head fine, but when I went to write it I felt pretty meh. I think I hadn’t done much (any?)Peter POV at that point, so that was a stretch. And I think I’d been spending so much time in the world of Gotcha that any other version of Peter/Quentin felt strange. I got it done, I have a sequel planned, but it was a struggle.

    No Lies was also tricky. I picked the prompt ‘make-up’ because I had this crystal clear mental image of someone kneeling, crying, makeup smeared all over them. But I didn’t know WHO. I tried so many pairings and characters, and even when I figured out that I really wanted that to be Tony… who with? Could I actually make Peter behaving that way believable?? Once I got it sorted out the writing was easy, but getting there - gah.

Easiest story to write:

    Indefensible was bizarre to write, because it literally just arrived in my brain in one giant chunk, complete, and I just had to transcribe it over a day or two. Very odd. 

    Pocket Change was much the same. The idea appeared and that first image of Tony holding the bill was just… there. The rest of it fell into place so easily as I went along.

Most fun story to write:

    Just a Bite was a lot of fun to write. It’s a topic I enjoy anyway, and I like trying to focus in on one element like that. Peter discovering a new thing he liiiiikes is always a ton of fun.

    11:59 was also surprisingly fun? Like— three characters that have interesting dialogue patterns, a slightly darker Tony, being able to indulge in nasty Quentin without him being quite a villain, the constant shifting of emotions for everyone in the room. Just so much going on in small ways. There are totally at least three more fics set in that universe. 

What’s your personal favorite thing you wrote this year?

    Tough call, but probably A Perfect Fit. Really, the entire insane little universe that’s expanding into. Definitely not something I would have expected at ALL back in January. 

What’s your least favorite thing you wrote this year?

    Maybe Can’t, Wont? Idk. I didn’t have a strong enough idea for the prompt to really make something of it, I guess. And writing Peter/Quentin is kind of difficult at the moment. It feels weird because I’ve spent so much time in the world of Gotcha that other takes on the characters are odd.

If you could go back and change something about one of the fics you wrote this year, what would it be?

    Probably Want What I Want. I knew what I wanted and I just couldn’t quite make it function. So I went with a slantwise version of it - which isn’t bad, but doesn’t have the focus I wanted it to. It felt like more of a twist on the prompt than I wanted. I’d like to go back and expand it out, dig into the specifics of the prompt a little more.

    And tbh, I got a comment on that very point. I’m normally really good about letting go of comments? But it was something I’d questioned myself, so it stuck more.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

    (Just) Waiting Around? Maybe? As much as I love top/experienced!Peter, I had to sit down and figure out how I might be able to actually get him there, convince the reader that this was a Peter that current Peter could become. 

    And any of the Tony/Quentin fics. There’s not a lot given for Quentin in canon; taking those little bits and trying to follow them back to these younger version of Quentin was really interesting and difficult. How do I make this character the softer, more open, more vulnerable, less confident version of himself from 10/15 years ago, and still keep those sharper edges that will grow and take over? How do I make the reader believe both that this version could have existed and that version could actually become the canon one? 

Story that was most different from what you usually write:

    I mean, Relief? I’ve never written het before (and probably never will again, lol), but I wasn’t going to let the chance to write redwings pass me by. 

    In general, all the freaking ABO. Which I’d never written before this fandom, though I’ve read tons of it. Not something I really expected to write? And then suddenly I’m not just writing it, I can’t seem to stop. 

    Sustain felt pretty different, and it took me a moment to figure out why (don’t laugh at me!). I’ve never written straight up non-sexual kink before. Not just a kink scene that doesn’t have sex, but a kink scene that doesn’t even have the intention or desire for sex. Completely removing that additional layer of tension and complications is fascinating. I’m really interested in expanding that verse.

Most unintentionally telling story:

    Oh, other than Gotcha, lol? Um. I don’t know if any really are? Maybe Backhand, or Sustain. Hmm, maybe Getting Started, though it’s not finished. 

    Now I wonder what conclusions those have people drawing.

What’s your favorite piece of description or narration?

    Oh my god, what an impossible question. Uh. This is difficult because I… think of images in words? I feel very odd about the bits I picked, Idk. 

    It’s so small, and I don’t know if I captured it as well as it is in my head, but I come back to it so often:

Stark sits on the bed, and then seems to get lost, or distracted, not moving again until Phil pushes him gently towards the middle of the bed. He gets Stark curled up on his side, just a sliver of his back touching the sheets.

There's a chair against the wall that doesn't look too modern, so hopefully more comfortable than most of the monstrosities around here; Phil has a feeling he's going to be here a while, watching Stark come back up. He stands, about to walk away when there's a soft touch on his hand. He looks down.

Stark's arm is stretched out, his fingers just barely resting on the back of Phil's hand. He's looking up at Phil out of the corner of his eyes, head just barely turned towards him. It's a clear a request as anything spoken; stay.

"I'm not leaving," Phil tells him. "I'm not even leaving the room. I was just going to get a chair.'

There's a breath, a hesitation, Stark's hand not leaving his, and then it's gone, Stark dragging it back in, turning his face into the pillow. That was the wrong response, something about it was just... wrong.

"Stark," Phil says, leaning onto the bed. "Do you want me to stay here? On the bed? I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with that." After all, this doesn't seem to be at all sexual for him.

Stark doesn't say anything—Phil's not entirely sure if he's nonverbal or not—but he turns his face back towards Phil a little. Doesn't quite look at him, and doesn't make a move; he's not going to ask again, not after what he obviously took as a rejection. His reactions are odd, not much like Phil had expected. 

    - Sustain

Or:

Beck gets Peter turned around, still kneeling but settled back against Beck's legs, leaning into it. "Toss me his shirt," he says, and Tony throws it at his face, Beck managing to catch it before it connects. Laughs, like this is fucking funny. He slips his hand into Peter's hair and tugs his head back a bit, wiping the come off his face.

"Take five, baby," Beck says, and Peter hums, resting his head on Beck's thigh and staring at Tony. Beck's petting him, hand sliding slowly though Peter's hair, and it's a fucking nightmare that Beck knows what that feels like and Tony doesn't. "You see?" Beck says. "He likes it a little rough. A lot rough, sometimes, so don't worry about hurting him. Don't worry when he cries," and Tony glares at him.

Beck's looking down at Peter, though, and then Tony is too. He's turning red again as Beck talks, but he's not denying anything, and not looking away from Tony.

Beck's hand trails down Peter's neck, hooks around the front and pulls him back; Peter's head tips back, exposing the whole of his throat to Beck's hand. "He's a little embarrassed by it," Beck says, "but he's an awfully sweet submissive too. Aren't you, honey?"

Peter looks up at him, his expression soft, open. "Yes, sir," he says, and Jesus Christ, Tony had no idea how much he wants Peter to say that to him. Peter likes it too, not just giving it lip service judging by the way his cock is getting hard again. Beck smiles.

"I'm going to miss you," he says. "You've been a lot of fun, baby." He looks up, catching Tony's eye, a smirk growing slowly on his face. "Guess I'd better make sure the last time makes up for it."

     - 11:59

What’s your favorite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

I mean, I’m very fond of Hang Up, it’s like 85% dialogue.

Alternatively:

"Looks like you're finally ready to be fucked," Tony says. "Bets on if you'll come on my cock, or if I'll have to give you a reach around with this?" settling the gauntlet on Quentin's hip.

"No," Quentin says, shaking his head as much as he can manage, "no, no, Tony—"

Tony leans in, thighs pushing Quentin's legs apart, the head of his cock bumping up against Quentin's ass. "If you manage it just once without my hand," he whispers, ducking his head and rubbing his beard over Quentin's shoulder, "I'll fund every last thing you ask for."

"No," Quentin moans, because he can't.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Tony says. "I'll make sure you can."

    - Make Sure

Story with the single sexiest moment:

    AHHHHHHHHH fuck this is the hardest one. 

    Secondhand and Gift Wrapped both have some of the hottest moments, I think:

    Peter's so hard he can barely think, absolutely can't control the way his dick jumps in Quentin's hand. He doesn't want to hear about this, doesn't want to imagine Tony with Quentin at all. Doesn't want Quentin to stop.

Quentin kicks off his pants and then he's crawling up over Peter, staring down at him with that manic glint in his eyes that Peter knows well enough by now to worry about. "He fucked my face like that," Quentin says, watching him. "Kept babbling that shit and fucked my throat nearly raw. Can't you hear it, honey?" and Peter can, he can.

"Can't you imagine it?" Quentin asks, and Peter can.

    - Secondhand

And:

    Peter wants— he curls his fingers in Tony's hair and yanks, Tony's head hanging loosely from his hands. He looks wrecked, sweaty and his whole face is dark, his lips wet and red and puffy, all from Peter's cock. When he opens his eyes, it's like he's not even seeing Peter, completely lost in his own little world; he's stiffening slowly, his spine rounding and he tries to brace himself, his eyes going wider and his breath getting shorter and— and is he about to come, Peter wonders. Is he really going to come just like this, from being fucked like this?

He is, he totally fucking is because a moment later Tony stops breathing entirely, his head jerking hard against Peter's hold, his whole body jerking as he comes. He gasps, eyelashes fluttering, and Peter can feel Tony's come landing on his legs, holy shit.

Pepper eases her thrusts, sinking into Tony and just rocking against him while he comes. Waits until he's gone limp, sunk down even more between her hands and Peter's; "Peter," she says. "Get a good grip on him for me. He gets all wiggly afterwards and I'm not done."

    - Gift Wrapped

    But if it comes down to what is probably my favorite - 

    Peter had already been pretty out of it when Tony came back, already wound up and just existing, no thoughts and no worries, nothing but want and feeling and response. He’d already been awfully close to flying, and this— this drops him over the edge, completely. 

Some part of his head is aware of the way he’s thrusting up into Tony’s mouth, Tony taking it happily, drooling around him; is aware that Peter’s tossing his head back and forth, fighting against Rhodey’s tight grip on his hair, only making it worse with every yank. Is even a little aware that the others must be watching him, watching them, watching just like Rhodey’s looking down at him, Tony looking up, their gaze so heavy on Peter he can feel it, just like he can feel everything, every touch and every texture and every single spot his body is in contact with anything. Can feel everything, too much, overwhelming, amazing, and he doesn’t know if it’s that, or the pain of Rhodey’s grasp, or the wave crashing down on him as he comes that have him crying. Maybe it’s all of them, or maybe it’s just that he’s wanted like this, kept and held and wanted. 

Rhodey kisses him, gently, and Tony crawls up over him; kisses Rhodey and kisses Peter and Peter could stay just like this forever. He can see Tony’s mouth moving, talking to him, then Rhodey, then him again, but his head is full of nothing but static, white noise.

    - Flaunt

    (So, uh, what does it say that all of those are threesomes?)

*

Stories I haven't yet written, but intend to:

    SO MANY. Beyond the fics I’ve got going for other people and Gotcha, and the (hopefully) one off continuations of kinktober fics, I really want to focus on - 

    The rest of Deep End (I know it all exactly!)

    The sad AI Peter/Tony, real!Peter/Tony

    Branches of Aegis

    ONE of my longer ABO pieces. 

    Fluffuary & Kinktober, again. 

Fingers crossed. I don’t even want to think about how many more ideas will come creeping in.

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 30

30 issues wow...forget the fact that I skipped like 5 issues of crossover event nonsense

another big ole swerve recap omg

this trial is so messsyyyyyyyyy lmao 

hvbajdfbahsjkfdbhjs starscream listening to meagtrons speech looking like ‘hmmmmmmm I may have miscalculated’ 

prowl looks pissed af meanwhile optimus just looks dead inside lmao

I mean. megatron kinda does have a point. this is like, the most biased, conflict of interests lookin trial of all time, in that all the major participants have some sort of long, complicated history with each other. what a mess

optimus, listening to megatron’s speech: wow this is worse than divorce court was

oh shit I totally forgot that those decepticons attacked the trial 

MAGNUS HAMMER AYYYYYY

a guy saying ‘objection!’ as optimus prime punches half his face off...that pretty much sums up idw op lmao 

op: oh thank god, I can punch shit now. I'm not cut out for this bureaucracy nonsense

megatron: thanks, random decepticon, for the attempted rescue, but I'm super old and I just want to nap so no thanks

random decepticon: wtf- [gets murdered by optimus prime]

I love op’s big ass antennae 

meanwhile, brainstorm goes to a bar and instead of buying anything, pulls out his own drink. I feel like that isn't allowed in most bars, or is at least frowned up vbsjdhfbhjdkfn. ily brainstorm 

also? big ass mood I was so broke last time I was on a barhopping vacation w/friends that I brought a cheap giantass bottle of mixed drink in my backpack and just drank that at all the bars lmao

WHIRLLLL I love his humansona sm. and also I love that whirl is into artsy french movies or w/e omg

brainstorm, drinking thru a wrist funnel: sorry I cant take my mask off rn it isn’t plot relevant yet

‘earthlets’ lmao

I love that rung is like, too pretentious to care that much about movies and would rather read earth books lol

and then bluestreak is like ‘yeah they have books...comic books’ can this man not read

I still cannot fuckign believe that the argument that got megatron out of a for-sure death sentence or w/e was ‘its not a war crime if we’re on the moon’ liiiiike what the actual hell lmao

also I love that, once again, we see magnus’s strict adherence to the law, technicalities and all

magnus: you cant really stop a trial and move it somewhere else where the laws are better suited to the outcome you desire

prowl: what are you, a cop? fuck off

also op being like ‘ok whatever all that doesn't matter...what DOES matter is that it would look bad for us to move the trial to cybertron in an obvious attempt to circumvent the rules, and public perception is what’s most important, fuck all that ‘morality’ bullshit’

meanwhile, rodimus is dead! and ambulon is also dead, which makes first aid sad, which makes ME sad

ayyy, rodimus is still alive! well, one rodimus is alive, at least 

rodimus and megatron really have the vibes of ‘stepfather and stepson forced to work together on a family road trip gone wrong after dad decided to sit this one out’ lmao

ah yes, ‘malaise’ the medical diagnostic term for ‘I don't feel so hot and idk why’ that practitioners like to throw under the ‘diagnostic notes’ section of lab orders to explain why they're ordering every blood test under the sun for a patient 

I love medical terminology. ANYWAYS

BE NICE TO MY BOY MEGATRON. 

rodimus: listen I have to come to terms with the fact that there's another version of me right here, and he’s DEAD, which means we can’t fuck, which is super lame 

I firmly believe that rodimus would be team ‘hell yeah id have sex with my AU self’ tbh 

I find it interesting that megatron is often casting blame for his actions onto others - here, he says that rodimus made him realize he doesn’t want to stop doing stuff w/his life, and then says that starscream forced his hand w/the whole ‘luna 2 law’ thing, and previously he’s said how whirl beating him up in jail is what led to him abandoning pacifism - take responsibility for your actions and decisions dude!

though he goes on to say here that he resorted to violence because he realized that the system that was in place could withstand everything else he would have tried to use to change it, which is super interesting 

megatron: okay, yes, I MIGHT have murdered billions, but I could help find us a new planet, which would be baller, sooooo...how about you co-opt your lame son’s frat boy ship and put me in charge? 

op: sounds fair to me. now how about we do some more Big Speeches before I make you somebody else’s problem

vbhdjskfbhaskdjf the ‘team rodimus’ lineup setup reminds me so much of the ‘together we make the ______’ meme with the different members being like, ‘the power’ ‘the gay’ ‘the awesome’ ‘the guy with no ears’ hbvhjdkfbs

chromedome: if I do this I could die

rodimus: that sounds like a you problem bro

‘this one time’ YEA RIGHT c'mon cd honor your dead husband’s wishes

omfg I forgot abt brainstorms ‘early early warning system’ lmao

I love nautica soooo much oh man

ooooof drift :( :( oh no

dead future rodimus!! uh oh is right

rodimus, known himbo: I'm sure I can defeat the inevitability of future events! all I have to do is cut my own arm off!

tailgateeeee he’s so cute...I love that he can tell stories of his daring escapades, just like at the beginning of mtmte, but this time its actually TRUE

OH SHITTTT GETAWAY

he looks so fucking sinister there lmao how are we NOT supposed to realize he has bad intentions from the get-go

‘you’ll make a prime one day’ well, getaway, you’re right about that at least...

cyclonus in the bg like 🤨🤔 at getaway

seriously I cant get over how getaway has such a slimy kinda vibe to him, like specifically in his interactions w/tailgate - this is before things even really take off but I'm still like TG GET AWAY (lol) FROM THIS GUY

cyclonus: somebody flirting with my crush? better go stare out a window instead of communicating absolutely anything to said crush about my feelings!

honestly I feel like, while megatron renouncing the decepticons and becoming an autobot is certainly interesting, it would be equally interesting for him to remain a decepticon but try to change the philosophy of the movement 

like, I get why op had him give that speech - to prevent the cons from trying to free megs again/thinking that he was being coerced into things (ironic considered he WAS coerced into giving that speech) - but it’s kinda the easy way our for megatron - being able to completely abandon the decepticon cause and not deal with it at all, and start over anew as an autobot

it would've been a lot harder to remain a con and try to reform what he has broken in the decepticon movement - but I think that would've been really interesting

though from a writing logistics standpoint, I get why jro didn't go for that bc we don't get a lot of other decepticons in the cast for that to work, and also megatron still definitely DOES have to face down all his mistakes w/the decepticons w/the djd and overlord and whatnot

anyways. I cant believe that all megatron had to do to join the lost light was make ONE speech denouncing the decepticons. like, they should've at least had him do a tiktok dance too or something, just to make it a really tough deal

I love the rodpod vbhjfsdkfbjaskjndfj

ok but I still don't really get the logic of making megs CAPTAIN like ouch. poor rodimus 

I feel like making megs a bartender at swerves or st would've been WAY more useful in showing him humility or w/e. OR it would've made him evil again, which, fair, 

ratchet: don't worry, we’ll medically poison him, it’ll be fine

ok but rodimus is right, this is SO messy, op wants to prove his ex husband isn't 100% evil so he’s like ‘ill let my rebellious son deal with him’ lmao god. I love this setup so much, its so wild

ratchet is also right, rodimus’s fuckup definitely pales in comparison to megatrons All That 

OH BRUTALLLLLLLL when ratchet says the list is fake ‘because my name’s not on it’ FUCKING OUCHHHHH

‘only bad guys say ‘unhand me” rodimus ily

omfg ‘we’ve practiced this’ of course they've done evacuation drills...magnus ily

lmao it’s the panel where it looks like rodimus and megatron are doing karaoke or having some sort of rap battle

and the lost light is GONE! oh shit!!!!

and there closes issue 30! once again we’ve gotten a lot of setup and exposition - which, while definitely necessary, means I don't have too much to say

I will say, throwing megatron onto the lost light has definitely mixed things up, and it’s interesting to see new dynamics already forming

so, until next time!

[eclare-draws]

Operation: Sleepover

Here’s the first chapter of my newest fic.

It’s full of dumb teenager-y fluff based on that period of time in Chat Blanc where Adrien and Marinette are dating and he knows she’s Ladybug but she doesn’t know he knows or that he’s Chat Noir

Adrien somehow got permission to have Marinette stay the night at his house. They're both nervous teenagers who are really in love. Marinette makes a dastardly plan with Alya's approval.

Also, nothing really sexy happens in this story (just smooches and lots of blatant staring), but I feel weird about writing about 13/14 year olds so I'm pretending they're like 15/16? Idk fam, imagine what you want. Just keep in mind that these innocent beans are staying that way while still behaving like youngish teens.

Here it is on AO3, where I will be posting the next chapters too.

Ch 2     Ch3     Ch4   Ch5

(Oh also, the texting is just [Marinette] {Adrien} |Alya| and whoever’s the focus of the voice is bolded)

Marinette couldn’t help but grin as she read the text that popped up on her phone.

{See you tonight! *kissy emoji* Don’t forget your toothbrush, princess! <3}

She was really going over to Adrien’s house for a sleepover. Adrien her boyfriend. She was going to watch movies with him. On his couch. In HIS room. With HIS cute face. It’s not like they hadn’t hung out before. They went on dates all the time - Mr. Agreste was surprisingly lenient with letting Adrien out of the house for her sake. But she was going over to his house for a whole night. Usually, it wasn’t more than a few moderated hours of studying and video games. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle in excitement as she responded.

[Oh and I bet you want me to bring my own clothes too, huh, prince boy?]

{I mean it’s recommended unless you want to be stuck in a shirt five sizes too big for you, my little sugar cube <3}

Marinette blushed at the thought of wearing his clothes. They would be so soft, and so warm and so- wait. Five sizes too big? “Little”? 

[Take it back.]

{Hmmmmmmmmmm….? Take what back, princess?}

[I’m not that small.]

{Aren’t you though? I could probably scoop you up with one hand and kiss your tiny little head <3 And you’d blush and be so so cute, princess}

[Adrien.]

{And then I’d laugh at how cute you are, but the force of the wind coming from my mouth! Oh no! You’ve been blown away!}

Marinette wasn’t that upset by his short jokes. He was so tall, and she was admittedly petite, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feign frustration for a bit to keep him on his toes (she knew that this usually ended with him sending heart emojis and him continuing to make short jokes).

[I’ll be at your house at 6:00 unless you keep this up. I have to go get my stuff ready.]

{:((((((( I was only joking, princess}

{ily}

{Mariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii}

[Seen 5:19PM]

{You didn’t need to type that :(}

[I love you too, silly prince.]

{:D}

{I knew it!}

{Everyone called me crazy but I knew you liiiiiked meee, princess}

[Let me pack, or else your princess won’t make it in time for dinner]

{As you wish. <3}

She clicked her phone off and set it down as she began to pack. She rifled through her drawers to try and find the cutest pajama set she had. Just as she settled on a matching pink floral button up and shorts combo, a wicked thought popped into her head. She grabbed her phone and tapped on her text conversation with Alya.

[I just had an idea.]

[Idk if it’s crazy or not but I need an expert opinion on the matter.]

Marinette got frustrated from the lack of immediate response. She was in a hurry and KNEW her best friend had her phone in hand at all times. Sure, it had only been a few seconds, but...

[Alya this is time sensitive.]

|Ah yes, the phrase no one can be safe after it is typed out by your thumbs, “I just had an idea.”|

[Rude]

|Spill, girl.|

Spill she did. Oh yes, it was a devious plan. She wasn’t sure what the reaction would be, but she’d all but decided on the course of action she planned to take tonight. Alya’s response was the only encouragement she needed.

|Damn, Mari. It’s crazy, I’ll give you that… but… I think it’ll work.|

[That’s what I was hoping you’d say >:3]

[But what if he thinks I’m… trying to seduce him?]

|Are you not?|

[NO!]

[We aren’t there yet, we’re… taking things slow? I guess?]

|God you’re cute.|

[u////u]

|I totally get that, girl. Take your time. Adrien’s sweet but a little too innocent to let this seduce him. I think you should do it.|

[I feel like that should be a sign that I shouldn’t]

[But I can’t be stopped now]

|You got this, girl. Text me to tell me how it goes?|

[Of course.]

With that, she got back to packing. She ran around her room, grabbing whatever she thought she might need. Her brain was a little scattered, being so focused on her plan, that she packed a lot of things she didn’t need. She had her toothbrush and other basic toiletries, a change of clothes for the next day, hairbrush, phone charger, water bottle, a bag of cookies for Tikki, a bag of cookies for Adrien, a notebook and pencil, a mini sewing kit, perfume, two pairs of shoes, a sketchbook, and a stuffed animal. As she tried to squash the poor little stuffed cat into her bag, she realized that she didn’t need all of this and took out the sketch pad, notebook, pencil, sewing kit, perfume, second pair of shoes, and the water bottle. She then shoved Mr. Vuitton the cat into her bag and zipped it up. As she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder, she glanced down at the abandoned pajamas lying on the floor. Tikki popped out from within the bag and gave Marinette a thoughtful look.

‘Maybe… I should…’ she thought, backtracking on her plans. She shook her head to clear it, stuck her phone in her pocket, and made her way to the trapdoor. She got halfway down the stairs before she ran back up and shoved the floral pink shorts in with everything else, then ran back downstairs, hearing a small giggle from inside her bag as she did so.

She glanced at the time. 5:43PM. She could make it in time if she walked fast enough. Before she left, she stopped by the bakery to give her parents kisses, her mom reminding her of the “serious relationship” talk they’d had the night before that Marinette didn’t want to think about too much as she rushed her way to her boyfriend’s house. She considered taking the metro to avoid getting sweaty, but nixed the idea when she remembered that rush hour was not going to help the state of her underarms either. Transforming was also out of the question unless she wanted attention and a strict talking-to from the kwami napping somewhere in the bag draped over her shoulder.

At 5:58PM, she rang the buzzer to announce her arrival, Nathalie’s questioning coming through the speakers quickly before a slightly panting Marinette made her way to the front doors of the mansion. Before she was even halfway up the stairs, a door was flung open and the boy she loved skirted out from behind it and raced to meet her where she was on the stairs while a disproving Nathalie looked on.

Unfazed by his excited behavior, she laughed as he greeted her with a kiss on each cheek and one on the lips. His face hovered close to hers as he started slipping the bag from her shoulder, “Let me carry that for you, princess.”

Blushing at the fact that Nathalie was watching as well as a reminder of, ‘wow he really is just like a puppy sometimes,’ she obliged and let him carry the bag as he linked arms with her for the remainder of their ascension.

“So I’m on kind of a strict protein based diet right now, something about wanting to bulk me up, so I hope you like meat and veggies with�� absolutely no carbs,” trailing off, Adrien gave her a side-eye, a look she only knew too well from whenever he was put on a new diet. She winked at him and made a slight gesture to her bag to indicate that she had some sweet sweet carbs hidden away in there. Adrien grinned and kissed her forehead as they made their way inside the mansion.

Marinette wondered briefly if she would ever get used to the expanse that was the Agreste mansion. It felt too clean and empty to her, especially considering how small and cozy her home was. As they made their way into the dining room with the background noise of Nathalie listing off rules of the house and reminding Adrien of his schedule, Marinette couldn't help that twinge of guilt from settling in her stomach. She wished, for Adrien’s sake, that he could have grown up in a normal house with a normal family and a normal life rather than the one that was put upon him.

As Nathalie took Marinette’s bag from Adrien and left the room, Marinette gave a sad look towards Adrien and was surprised to be met with his expectant and loving gaze. “You okay, ‘Nette?” he asked as he pulled out a chair for her.

“Yeah, sorry! Just got a little… lost in my thoughts, that’s all. Have the rules changed since the last time I was here?” she responded, a smile leaking onto her face as she sat down adjacent to Adrien.

“No, not really. Nathalie did mention specific… bedroom rules,” he blushed at that, “But I don’t really think it applies to us?”

Not understanding why he phrased it as a question, Marinette returned his blush with her own as she asked for clarification, “What kind of ‘bedroom rules’?”

“You know… The usual. Don’t be naked with one another? Leave room for Jesus? Don’t boink your oinks?”

“Word for word, those are the rules?” Marinette giggled, a brow subconsciously quirking up in amusement. 

“It’s in the official Agreste mansion rules for guests, section 51J,” he unrolled an invisible scroll and cleared his throat. “‘Thou shalt not boink oinks until there has been proper discussion of said act between all parties of the household as well as the Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, in one room. Finally, the oinks in question must be old enough to consent to boinking.’” 

Marinette lost herself in a fit of giggles. Between the funny voice Adrien put on, the idea of Gabriel Agreste having a sex talk with his son, and the goofy smile he was giving her after rolling the invisible scroll back up, it was too much. Adrien joined in with her steadily growing laughter until they had to stop to gasp for air. Marinette wiped a tear from her eye and looked up at Adrien, who was absolutely beaming at her. The moment he moved to push some hair out of her face, the door opened. Marinette watched with a pit in her stomach as Adrien lit up and looked at the door expectantly, only to let his features fall into a frown and let out a sigh. It wasn't his father, it was just the chef bringing in their meals. Marinette let her hand rest on top of Adrien's as plates were set in front of them. The chef placed a glass of water in front of Adrien and a cup of hot jasmine tea down for Marinette. While she knew her attention should be set on her aching boyfriend, she couldn't help but beam at the meal in front of her. It was just as Adrien said - protein heavy red meat and roasted veggies - but Marinette knew that every meal at his house was like eating at a nice restaurant and was excited to dig in. Not only that, but the chef had remembered her love for the fancy jasmine tea they often had at the house. She glanced at her boyfriend once more to make sure he was okay before she started eating. He gave her a smile and then gestured at her plate as he picked up his utensils.

[emily-strange]

Growing Pains...

Chapter 6! Honestly the feedback has been so kind. Thank you to everyone still giving it a go :)

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: Slow burn Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes

Chapter 6

From a young age Hosea could see that washing and sewing wasn’t going to be my lot in life. I admire Susan for her ability to keep any camp going despite our circumstances and I do help out here and there but no, Hosea decided early on that my talents would lie elsewhere.

When I was 7 he took a considerable amount of money out of the camp funds to purchase me a fountain pen. Only the rich folk had them so without a lavish plan he wasn’t going to be stealing one. “Now I see all those little writings you’ve been doing. You got good penmanship,” he told me. “This, this right here will be your gun. I’ll teach you to write properly and then you’ll help me with a few things”.

I felt so useful! After that I’d spend 5 or 6 hours a day reading and writing with Hosea. He’d have me copy people’s handwriting from Dutch’s cursive to John’s chicken scratch and that’s how I found my place. So along with the general thieving, when something needs forging, like a letter or a bond, they come to me.

Since Blackwater there hasn’t been much of that but Hosea has made sure that I kept on top of my craft so to speak. In Colter I had to use Arthurs pencil and journal since we didn’t have any ink. I’d work from the back of the book as to not see any of his private stuff and he trusts me not to go sneaking through it. We lost pretty much everything in Blackwater but my pen, my pen I kept with me the whole time.

Although despite Hosea’s wish, Arthur decided that an actual gun should be my gun, you know, just in case. He gave me my revolver when I turned 10 and took me out shooting whenever he could. If he couldn’t then John took over although Arthur wasn’t always thrilled about that. He used to say that if I spent too much time practicing with John, I’d probably come away with a few bad habits. I think that was more about their bickering than anything though.

I lost that gun when we fled but was given a new one a few weeks ago. Something that I’m extremely happy about right now as I sit waiting for Micah to return with our drinks. He rode us to a dingey little saloon in the corner of nowhere and told me to grab a table. As I walked through the busy bar, men’s heads turned my way. I have to say, their leers aren’t flattering in the slightest.

“1 beer and a whiskey shot for the lady” Micah says as he puts them down in front of me and I thank him. He sits down across from me and takes a long swig of his bottle. Rum I think.

“Won’t lie Mr Bell, I’ve been to some iffy places but this one probably comes out on top.” I laugh and start on my beer.

“Ah it ain’t so bad” Micah chuckles while looking around “and why we at ‘Mr Bell’ again?”.

I shrug and give him a coy smile “I dunno….kinda like it. Has a nice, authoritative ring to it. Don’tcha think, Mr Bell?” I ask while I lean on the table with my elbow and put my chin in my hand. I have no idea what’s got into me but I kinda like it. So does Micah apparently.

“Oh really now” he smirks “well…” but before he can continue, our eye contact is broken by the appearance of a young woman in his lap. I’m no stranger to working girls, I’m an outlaw for goodness sake, but I’ve never had one try to seduce the man I have a stupid crush on. Urgh, ‘crush’, how old am I!? I like him. I think. This would be the perfect opportunity to find out if there wasn’t a very, very, sexy woman in the way.

“Hey sweetie” she drawls while winding her arms around Micah’s neck “Ain’t seen you in here before.”

My stomach drops when Micah hums and puts his hand on her waist, “We’re just passin’ through” he says smiling that sickening grin men do when they’re feeling flattered. For a moment I consider slumping back into my chair and just downing my beer. Run out to Jett and be home before dinner.

But before I can actually make good on my despair, Micah carries on speaking. I down my shot, and his, while I continue to listen.

“And I’m just having a drink with the lady here so,” he says, patting her waist “be a pal and hop off.” I can’t help the smile that graces my face and when the woman turns to look at me, I take a sip of my beer to try and hide it. I do however frown when she scoffs and glances around at the clientele in the bar. To my disgust, a few men are still looking my way.

“Oh darlin’ there’re plenty of men here that would suit this little doll better. They like the inexperience. Why don’t we..” but before she can finish her sentence Micah tightens his grip on her waist, somewhat painfully if her face tells me anything, and brings her close.

“Well, darlin’,” he mocks “let whoever they are know, that if I even so much as see them looking at her, they’ll die cockless.” he finishes with a growl. Micah roughly shoves the woman off his lap and she almost collapses onto the floor before finding her feet. She just spares me once last glance, fixes her dress and saunters off to her next mark. I watch as Micah takes one of his pistols from his gun belt and slams it down hard onto the table, causing the few leering men to turn back to their drinks.

“Take your gun out” he barks and it almost makes me jump “you show people you won’t be got and they don’t even try it.” He nods towards my satchel and I take out my revolver placing it on the table. He laughs, “Oh sweetheart, we need to work on your poker face.” And I can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Apologies, I don’t have as much experience in intimidating drunken men as you clearly do” I smirk. Micah hums and takes another drink from his bottle.

“You know, you um, could’ve. If you wanted to. Free country. Well, you know what I mean” I say and despite my best efforts it comes out a bit shaky. Micah just watches me for a moment with that look on his face again. The one that makes me feel like I’m speaking a foreign language. Before I can ask why he looks so confused by what I’ve just said, he’s changed the subject.

“So how’d you know you won’t be in trouble with the boss-man once we get back?” and it takes me a second to catch up with the change in topic.

“Oh, well, when Dutch and Hosea go fishin’ they’re gone till dark. Sometimes Hosea likes to stay out even when it’s dark so I figure if I’m back before evening I’m safe.” I explain. Micah nods and finishes his drink. I down the rest of mine and ask if he wants another.

“Why not. We’re on an adventure after all” he says while lighting a cigarette. I get up and walk with my money to the bar. I turn around while waiting for the bartender and see that Micah has shifted to sit more next to my chair than opposite. It’s so nice not to be coddled. I didn’t have to fight to get my own drink and despite the fact that he’s obviously moved to keep an eye on me, it feels more comforting than suffocating.

I get our drinks, I buy us a couple each, and take them back to the table with absolutely no interactions from the men around me. Won’t lie, it was a confidence boost. They all know it’s not worth their life to bother me.

“So” I start when sitting down “I think we should play a game.”

“What kinda game?” Micah asks warily “Roulette?” he says holding up his gun. I roll my eyes, “No, has to be something difficult for you. I know you’d jump at the chance for an adrenaline rush.”

“You know me so well” he laughs and I shake my head.

“Actually Micah, I don’t. But I’d like to.” I reply and really hope he catches onto my attempt at flirting, but all he does is clear his throat and gives me that ingenuine huff of a laugh he does sometimes.

“Ain’t no woman wanna know Micah Bell” he scoffs and takes a long swig of his drink.

“Well” I say cheerfully “this woman does. So, lets play. Ask me anything.”

“That the game? Questions?” he asks and I just smile. “Yep. And if for some reason, we don’t want to answer a question, we have to do a dare.” I explain and with that Micah laughs and holds his hand out to me.

“Alright, game it is. But only the truth.” He whispers and I agree, “Only the truth.”

Micah takes all of 2 seconds to decide his first question for me and as I thought, he’s trying to shock me. I figured out very quickly when he joined the gang that he’s always trying to size people up. What their weak spots are, what makes them retreat. I don’t know why he does it but the only way to find out is to remain unshocked. Well, try to.

“You a virgin?” he asks and I’m not surprised considering our little chat with sexy, working girl not long ago. “No” I say simply. I did promise the truth and he smiles like he’s surprised by my honesty.

“My turn. How many women have you slept with?” I ask figuring I’d stay on topic a bit. I’ve only had 2 beers so I can’t be drunk but that giddiness is back making me feel like I am. Micah pretends to think looong about his answer. “Oh hurry up” I laugh and throw a stray peanut from the table at him.

“I’m just making sure I tell the whole truth and nothin’ but the truth” he says holding his hand up, “Uh I’d say somethin’ liiiiike. I dunno. A lot. 100 odd maybe”. I have no idea if that’s his attempt to shock me again but I just nod and have more of my drink. “Your go” I say after.

“Hmm okaaay” he squints at me like he’s picking a question from somewhere on my face “You happy?” he suddenly asks and my attempt to remain composed is long gone. I was mid sip of my drink and I inhale causing me to cough. Micah laughs and leans forward patting my back a bit too roughly. “There ya go” he laughs when I stop.

“Jesus Micah, in a million years I’d never think you’d ask somethin’ like that” I wheeze out while wiping my mouth. Micah laughs and gestures for me to answer. Why has he asked me that? We went from 100 sexual partners to ‘are you happy’ in the space of a few seconds. Well done Micah, you’ve shocked me.

“Umm, Iiiii, wow,” I laugh humourlessly while looking at my beer bottle “that’s. That’s a question.” Is all I can think of to say in the moment. Micah, again, surprises me by staying quiet. I didn’t know he was capable of not making a comment. I clear my throat and meet his eyes awkwardly. “No” is all I can muster. I shake my head as if I can clear it that way and decide to just get us back on track. Well, on my track. I take a long glug of beer and ask my next question.

“Did Bill really threaten to tell Dutch if you didn’t follow me?” I ask and Micah chuckles.

“You’re quick ain’t ya?” he laughs and the compliment, at least I think it’s a compliment, makes me smile. “No, he didn’t”. I open my mouth to ask why he followed me then but Micah cuts me off.

“Ah ah, my turn.” He reminds me and jumps right in with his next question. “Who do you hate the most in the gang?”. I groan and put my head on the table which I instantly regret. It’s gross. “Come on sweetheart. Gotta be honest now!” he chortles.

“How did I not see this coming!?” I groan but have to laugh along with him. He’s persistent in his need to know that everyone is just as dysfunctional as he his. “Okay, I’ll be honest….at the moment I really don’t like Dutch.” I answer.

Micah opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off, causing him to chuckle louder. “Oh! And Strauss. He’s always kinda creeped me out. And jeez can Pearson wash once in a while. All the other men manage to. Well maybe not Uncle but he’s, ya know, Uncle.” I blurt out and Micah shoves my arm.

“Wow once we get ya started it allll comes out” Micah laughs and honestly, it’s infectious. I clap my hand over my mouth and stifle a snort. Seriously, 3 and a bit drinks in and I’m fine complaining about them all. There’s just something about Micah that makes me feel safe to admit out loud what I only record in my journal. But I really need to be careful. I scold myself internally at my loose mouth.

“Okay,” I shake my head “you can’t tell anyone.” I say and make direct eye contact. He smirks but doesn’t respond. “Please?” I ask more seriously. Micah just gives me one nod. Which I feel is his code for, I promise. We’ll see I suppose. I guess I can always pretend like he’s lying. Stop thinking about it!

“Right, my turn.” I say while starting on my last bottle. I don’t know if it’s because we’re out in the middle of nowhere with no one we know around, but I’m feeling emboldened by the feeling of freedom. I clear my throat and lean into Micah.

“Do you see me as that woman does? Just a young….‘doll’?” I ask quietly and I realise as soon as the words leave my mouth that I’m scared of his answer. Why did I ask that!? God, how stupid can I be. Of course he does. Everyone does.

Micah takes a deep breath and seems to inhale the remains of his last drink before taking mine and having a swig. He clears his throat and leans in close enough that I can feel his breath on my lips. He smells of the smokes he’s had since being here and whiskey. God I want to touch the scar on his chin, I need to know how he got that. Maybe run my tongue over it while sitting in his lap.

I realise I’m staring at his lips when he begins to speak and I’m sure he’s noticed.

He smirks and just utters one word.

“No.”

[zig-a-zow]

Say it again [Damien/MC]

Summary: Damien knew very well that they weren't done with Eros yet. And even though he was a patient man, he wanted to make sure Nick knew his true feelings before it was too late.

Pairing(s): Damien/MC

Word count: 888

Warnings: None at all! Just pure unadulterated fluff, like the birthday boy wanted 💕

Song: Say it again - Marié Digby

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

It was the middle of the night. Nick was peacefully sleeping by his side, but that wouldn't be the case for long if he kept tossing and turning in the bed.

Damien was really trying to rest as well. He was going to need it to face whatever Eros would throw their way the next day at the RHH Convention Center.

It's not everyday you try to save the president's life from the clutches of evil robots and a James Bond-like villain, after all.

Regardless, he couldn't stay still for more than three minutes or less. And just as he expected, Nick started to wake up a few moments later.

"No, no, no... shhhh" he immediately turned to him, soothingly caressing his arm in an attempt to keep him asleep. "Don't wake up, please..."

"Too late for that" Nick replied with a goofy grin, eyes barely open, but as mischievous as ever.

Damien sighed in defeat, but a tiny smile tugged the edge of his lips. He brought his hand to his boyfriend's face, softly as he yawned.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I would hope so. We would have a problem otherwise" Nick was now fully awake, which meant that the relentless teasing was on again. "What is keeping you up so late?"

He didn't reply immediately. Mostly because he was trying to find the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. What he had to say.

"Remember the other day, back in LA? In the couch, I said that I--"

"--liiiiike me very much?"

Damien rolled his eyes at the interruption, but the smile on his face made it clear that he wasn't actually mad. He shook his head.

"The moment hasn't even started and you're already ruining it. Why am I not surprised?"

Nick buried his face on his pillow as he laughed heartily, muffling the sound just enough so they wouldn't have Nadia banging their door so they would keep it down.

"Sorry, sorry. Please, go on."

They both sighed, and as Damien could tell by his expression, Nick was actually listening now, intently. With his full attention, he continued.

"I know I said I was going to wait for a special moment, but... every moment with you is special. Sappy as it may be, it's true."

He cupped Nick's face with his hand, his thumb caressing his cheek as he stared deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"I love you, Nick. I think I've loved you for a long, long time. And it's about time I said it."

He fell silent after that, closing his eyes, feeling his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment. For a few seconds he feared he wouldn't get a reply of any sort, but his eyes opened wide when he felt Nick's hand on top of his own, keeping him close.

"I love you too, Damien. I really do."

He took his hand and kissed his palm softly, sending a shiver down Damien's back.

"You're one of best things that's ever happened to me. Right up there with QuikFlix and Steve's lemon bars."

Damien scoffed at that, and Nick laughed once again, forgetting to keep it down this time around. When his laughter faded, his expression softened, and Damien knew that he meant every word, as teasing as they were.

He couldn't help but close the distance, pressing his lips firmly against Nick's. He could feel his smile against him before he kissed back eagerly, stealing a sigh from him.

Biting his lower lip ever so slightly, the promise of more in the near future, Nick pulled away, looking almost dazed. Damien couldn't help but smile at that, feeling proud of himself for being the cause of that reaction.

After a moment of confortable silence, Nick sighed with relief.

"It feels good to actually say it."

"Yeah?" Damien asked, placing a hand on Nick's waist to pull him a bit closer "Why don't you say it again, then?"

He made it sound as playful as possible, but he actually wanted to hear it again. It made him feel warm and tingly inside, and he liked that feeling very much.

Nick was able to see through his facade, and with a mischievous grin he pulled himself up with his elbow, looking at his boyfriend from above.

He leaned down so he could place soft kisses on his face. Once on his forehead, both of his cheeks, his nose, his chin, accentuating every caress of his lips with his whispered words.

"I... love... you... so... much..."

He finally landed on his lips, pouring his feelings out in that one kiss, repeating himself without words this time.

When he pulled back, Damien slowly opened his eyes, a stunned expression adorning his features before he broke into a grin. He looked the happiest Nick had ever seen him.

Nick fell on his back with a soft thud against the mattress, with Damien hovering over him and returning the favor of planting kisses across his face, though his were faster and more fervent, leaving him laughing softly.

He stopped a few moments later, resting his forehead on Nick's, once again staring deep into his eyes, seeing the same longing and devotion reflecting on his own.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Say it again."

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

Author notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NATE! 💞💕💓 I know it's a bit late, and a bit short, but I hope you still like it! I enjoyed writing it very much! 💖 I'll try to add a Read more to this, and I hope it works (I know many people are bothered by having to scroll through fics, but please understand, we're trying our best 😟). It'll be tagged as long post too. Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!

[its-love-u-asshole]

Twelve Hours [Ch. 1]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch. 

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just...a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: I said I had a new weird au and I do not lie. This au....is so fun to write lmao I got the inspiration from a writing prompts blog (they always work wonders, I swear) and I'm so glad I actually sat down and produced this, no matter how crackish it is lol. I hope everyone enjoys! I already have 2 more chapters written so 'm going to try and be frequent with the updates (as much as I can anyways), so expect those every other week ^^ Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over! 

AO3

Sec. 175. In accordance with national law and employment regulations, no government corporations, hospitals, schools, or select businesses are to remain open on the night of the annual Purge. Should a private chain or entity choose to conduct themselves, all labor codes must be adhered to, and employees are to be compensated with a wage fifty times the normal hourly rate, as well as provided with basic equipment needed for protection. Any businesses found to be neglectful of such policies will be examined and penalized.

--

March 15, 2020

1:00 PM

6 hours until the Purge

"Shit."

A shrill, joyless tune rang through Kuroo's room, and his eyes snapped open. His first mistake of many.

The sound of his alarm and his general grogginess had him rolling right out of bed and onto the floor in his piss poor attempt to reach for the snooze button (for real, how had he fucked that up?). His limbs acted like hooks, bringing his bundle of blankets and pillows down with him.

It wasn't that different from a regular morning, in truth. The only difference was that this time, he was ashamed by how late he'd managed to sleep in.

Kuroo prided himself on being an early riser. He had his good name to defend. At this rate, even Bokuto would be up and about (or in the midst of his first nap), that log.

"Dammit," Kuroo muttered, reaching up to silence his phone. The end of the stupid ringtone didn't end Kuroo's suffering. The sun shone through his window, making him squint, and that, along with his mind beginning to power on, reeling with dates and to-do-lists, became far too much stimulation for the morning.

Er...afternoon.

Kuroo sprang up, unaware he'd collapsed the previous night in such exhaustion he hadn't been able to pull his jeans all the way off his legs.

The result? He fell face first onto his unvacuumed carpet once again, and okay, out of all the days of the year, this was not the day for him to be so clumsy. It probably hadn't been a good idea to work a double shift the day before at the pizza parlor, but there was a gaming console he really wanted (not to mention his strong desire to keep his savings growing), and he was so close to being able to afford it.

And make no mistake, Kuroo didn't like stealing, sanctioned crime or no sanctioned crime.

So he was saving up, like a high schooler or something. Oh well, it beat the alternative...

On autopilot, Kuroo fumbled for his remote, groaning as his hand touched something mushy.

Oh god. Gross. Gross and weird, what the fuck--

Clearly, some spring cleaning would be in order for tomorrow. The world ‘tomorrow’ made his heart stop for a second in fear of the unknown, but he got over himself quickly. He had to. Today he just had to.

After some deep breathing, he managed to pry his eyes open enough to find what he was looking for: the remote. Switching on the television, because that's what he did on a normal day, he couldn't help but groan at his mistake.

Routines could be his downfall at times, especially when his television automatically turned onto the news station. He should really know better by now…

This was the one day where he preferred to not watch the news while he got ready. Kuroo would've much preferred some B movies, or even better, a documentary on how to make soap.

Not caring enough to switch the set off, he threw the remote to his bed, and waited for the coverage to begin. No point avoiding it now. In the meantime, he figured he really needed a quick rinse, and a good brush through his hair (it wouldn't look any better afterwards, but it was the thought that counted).

Kuroo had to return to work by five anyways, as was policy. Even though the pizza place he worked at wouldn't start accepting orders until the start of the Purge, they had to be there to lockdown, take inventory, prepare their cars, and get their gear on.

So basically, Kuroo would have to get gas, organize his artillery, and make lunch all before then.

I want ramen...no...fried chicken.

Fuck it, he was getting paid fifty times his usual wage tonight, he could afford to treat himself to both.

The news logo flashed onto the television, gaudy and bright. On screen, two anchors sat, the countdown clock framed innocently in the upper right-hand corner.

"Good afternoon and thank you for joining us on the eve of our nation's 7th annual Purge! I sure hope everyone is excited. What should we be expecting from tonight Kudobera-san?"

Before closing the bathroom door, Kuroo glanced back, catching the far too cheery smiles of the news anchors giving their annual spiel.

"Well Takigawa-san, we expect a much higher turnout than last year. However, reports show that a lot of businesses have upgraded to new top of the line security systems. It'll be interesting to see how these changes will affect the crime rates tonight.

"But in celebrity news, idol Fuwa Reiko's Purge bash is said to have a guest list of over fifty people this year, and prizes will include..."

Kuroo rolled his eyes, grabbing the nearest bath towel, and shutting the door.

--

The Purge began when Kuroo was eighteen years old, and it was truly a terrifying and horrific time and blah, blah, blah, blah...

Yeesh.

Look. Kuroo could go on and on about the corruption and politics surrounding the Purge and how it came into being. He could then spend another few hours about how it ended up impacting him personally. His newly formed anxiety, his suppressed fears, the fact that many people he knew and met sometimes didn't survive the year.

Very grim stuff. No fun.

Tonight wasn't about any of that, and Kuroo wasn't going to waste time on detailing the Purge and all the blood-chilling and fucked up things which happened during it.

No one had time for that.

And yeah, one day Kuroo dreamed he'd be rich enough to move away from this cursed nation, safe and healthy with all his friends without the Purge looming over him every month until March rolled around.

But, it was not the time for escape quite yet, so Kuroo refused to dwell on the subjects of blood and gore. No time to reminisce over his childhood, no reason to recount his tragic backstories or feelings on the matter.

Not tonight. Maybe next year.

Tonight, he had a twelve-hour shift, and he was expecting to be paid well.

The point of all this? (Aside from the gaming anyways...) Simple. In order to one day achieve his dream, and keep himself alive until then, he needed money. Purge night, as shitty and immoral as it could be, let him earn enough money to cover three months’ worth of rent. That was without tips too.

That was his only focus.

So in short, in order to keep himself sane, Kuroo worked hard, and had no problem with diverting his internal angst into jokes at any given moment.

Liiiiike now.

Kuroo kicked open the door to Bokuto's bedroom, where he was still cuddling Akaashi against his chest. One of their infamous afternoon naps. How cute.

They were sickening. "Hello naughty children, it's murder time!"

The couple jolted awake, and while he might deny it later, Bokuto totally screamed. Kuroo smirked as Bokuto flailed on the floor, reaching for a nearby water gun to defend himself.

Given that Kuroo knew Bokuto was quite skilled with actual guns, it was a sight to see.

Akaashi glared at Kuroo from the bed, eyes full of pure, empty disgust, like Kuroo was a dead bug on the windshield of Akaashi’s life. Kuroo's joy was not deterred, and in a sudden moment of bluntness, Akaashi uttered his first sentence of the day: "Kuroo-san, I hate you."

"Is that any way to treat your best friend who woke you guys up in time for your flight?" Kuroo wiped his fake tears, gesturing to the bundle of suitcases Akaashi had packed dutifully two nights prior.

"I had an alarm set--"

"And your best friend, who made you guys lunch and drives you to the airport every year," Kuroo continued, not willing to wilt under Akaashi's piercing stare. Bokuto stayed on the floor, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

Kuroo could defend himself alright? Being a cunt was a defense mechanism he used so he wouldn’t just start fucking crying all over how much he loved his friends on the worst day of the year, so he was sticking with it. They knew of course, but maybe they didn’t say anything for Kuroo’s sake, and he loved them for it.

Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he channeled his inner anger management guru. Kuroo liked to poke fun at the fact that maybe Akaashi needed to purge more than anyone, but they all knew the raven abhorred violence.

Well, most of the time.

Without another word, Akaashi chucked a pillow directly at Kuroo's face (with impressive force he might add), and Bokuto became aware enough to tackle Kuroo to the ground two seconds later.

And though Kuroo whined and complained, eventually crying his surrender after Bokuto had him pinned down long enough, he couldn't help but smile at how much he cherished these moments.

Bokuto and Akaashi would only be gone for a week, but he would miss them. They always picked the time of the Purge to take their yearly vacation.

It was...better that way.

They could afford it too, being players for the national team. Bokuto got nervous and overly protective whenever the Purge rolled around, and though Akaashi wouldn't admit it, they were both scared of ever being remotely close to a situation in which they might lose each other.

So, they decided to travel to a different country every time the heinous event rolled around, one where the Purge had no weight or influence.

As Kuroo made them their pancakes and helped them with their bags, he couldn't help but doubt himself, like he did each year.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us Kuroo, we can still get you a ticket, we can figure something out!" Bokuto's concerned look almost had Kuroo giving in. He slammed the trunk, putting Bokuto's suitcase down next to him.

The airport was never that crowded on Purge night. Guess people trust their security systems enough to not leave the county.

The couple never failed to offer Kuroo a ticket. They cared about him, didn't like the thought of him not being safe. Kuroo agreed. That's why he'd begged his family to move out of the country years ago, why he encouraged Bokuto and Akaashi to leave around this time as well.

But Kuroo...Kuroo was stubborn.

He hadn't finished school yet, and his savings weren't where he wanted them to be. When he moved, he wanted to be secure. Plus...Kuroo could be kind of dumb about these things. He got a twisted sense of pride when he survived Murder Night™ every year, even more so now that he chose to work during the event.

Yeah...that was a whole different story.

Kuroo shook his head, smiling easily. "We've been over this man, you don't have to worry about me. I refuse to die."

Akaashi curled his hand around Bokuto's before the other could begin to protest. Akaashi disagreed with Kuroo's decisions too, but he knew arguing got them nowhere. "You are like a roach."

Kuroo stumbled back, as if punched. "Ouch. I'll try to take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

"Akaashi."

They all laughed, and as the clock struck four, he watched them disappear into the airport, after a painful, drawn out embrace, waving at him one last time.

He smiled through his misty eyes, and couldn't help but feel relief knowing they'd be far away by 7 PM.

--

Now generally, it was pretty agreed by all that during the Purge, people shouldn't target delivery boys. Out of all the people to kill, you're gonna go after Papa John? Get fucked.

Who the hell was shitty enough to murder some sad minimum wage worker?

Well, a lot of people actually. People were cruel during the Purge, that was sorta the point. But, in Kuroo's experience, the freaks with knives and masks would often overlook him and his crappy pizza delivery uniform.

Some things were worse than death, they probably thought.

Kuroo wouldn't complain. The less trouble for him the better. While he did occasionally have to fire warning shots and rev his car at people who were a bit bolder and more bloodthirsty, he stayed fairly safe.

Or as safe as one could be, surrounded by crazed people wielding machetes. He was more than fine with ignoring the screams and explosions by turning up his stereo to inhuman levels, bottling up his inner hero.

Because in reality, Kuroo had never managed to shake his core beliefs, no matter how fucked up the system was. He was honest, valued good work ethic, respected his elders, all that jazz.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou was the guy who helped old ladies cross the street. Definitely not someone who should be working during the Purge. But, well, his mother always told him people would underestimate him if given the chance.

Kuroo's natural instinct was to defend, to protect. However, during the Purge, it simply wasn't practical, and he was forced to hate himself for it later.

At least he had Matsukawa and Semi to keep him company.

"Happy Murder Night, would you like to hear about our specials?" Matsukawa deadpanned as Kuroo walked through the front door of the parlor. The blast shields were already up, and the shop was technically closed. The only occupants of the booths were his fellow coworkers, the other people insane enough to be working that night.

Semi rolled his eyes, greeting Kuroo without a polite nod. He assumed Kyoutani was in the back, making breadsticks. Again, normal day, if he didn't count the various rifles and bulletproof vests spread out on the counter. Backup measures, in case somehow, the titanium doors were broken down.

Kuroo laughed, walking over to where Matsukawa sat perched behind the register, and picked up the vest with his nametag on it.

So much to do, so little time.

He clipped the vest on securely, holstering two of the guns and a knife.

"I don't know how this place stays in business," Semi muttered from where he polished the counter. "Why would people order pizza on the most dangerous night of the year?"

"You say that as if we don't get at least ten or so orders every year," Matsukawa reminded.

"Robbing and plundering does work up an appetite," Kuroo agreed.

"Like you'd know," Semi said with a snort, throwing the dirty dish rag at Kuroo's face. All this disrespect today.

"Hey, I'll have you know, I once stole a bag of chocolate coins from the discount store." Kuroo crossed his arms, his grin wide and triumphant.

Matsukawa squinted, tapping his hands on the bright red countertop. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

"..."

"Did you cry afterwards?"

Fuck.

Kuroo said nothing, and Semi looked two seconds away from laughing his ass off. Wankers. All of them. Nothing but wankers.

"I'll take that as a yes," Matsukawa said, ducking just in time to avoid Kuroo's headlock.

It was at that moment Kyoutani made himself known, asking if Kuroo had ever done jail time for a crime so heinous.

"You've got jokes now? What's the world coming to?" Kuroo cried, falling to his knees.

"Given what day it is, should you really be asking that?" Semi said, and man, too far.

They all stared at each other, letting the dark foreboding and realization settle over them. The thoughts sprang up like they always did, violent and despair-riddled, before Kuroo defiantly squished them down.

Then, they all broke out into laughter, the kind which brought tears to the eyes.

Yeah, the Purge was fucked up, but it brought them closer together.

And honestly, grease stains or not, Kuroo was glad to wait out the Purge in the company of these assholes.

After all, it was the best he was gonna get for now.

--

Kuroo's car was geared up and ready to go.

The delivery vehicle given to them for Purge night only opened from the driver's side. The rest of the car was plated with a lightweight metal, armor essentially. The front behaved more like a battering ram than a hood, in case of extreme circumstances, like having to get through a crowd of attackers. The mirrors were shatter resistant, and the tires were as slash and puncture resistant as possible. Still, the car came equipped with a set of spares just in case.

They kept the car in a special fortified garage which was only accessible through the parlor. The garage door into the parlor locked every time it was closed, a security measure for if someone tried to break in while Kuroo was leaving for a delivery.

All in all, Kuroo felt safe at his workplace. Outside though...he didn't trust anything, and for good reason. Better safe than sorry.

After helping with food prep, checking the car's interior, and filling up the tank, hours had gone by. Looking at his clock, Kuroo's heart skipped a beat.

6:50 PM. Ten minutes until the Purge.

Dread coiled in his gut for a moment before it was gone. Kuroo never got used to this, but he knew what to expect now after seven years.

"Kuroo c'mon, time to get inside," Semi said, poking his head through the garage door. Kuroo was technically safe in the garage but...they just liked to all be together during the opening broadcasts.

Taking a deep breath, Kuroo followed after him, just in time to catch the start. The large flat screen in the dining area which usually played sports games and cheesy commercials lit up blue, the emergency broadcast text slowly beginning to scroll up the screen.

"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by your government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. May God be with you all."

The classic pause.

The silence.

Kuroo never got why there had to be the brief stall before the alarms began, but he despised it. Everyone in the parlor remained stone-like as the chilling sirens began echoed in the distance. They were ghostly almost, unreal, like a thick fog no one could escape from. Sometimes, Kuroo could hear them in his dreams, and he’d wake up with two pillows pressed against his head, as if trying to block the sound.

Kuroo couldn't help but laugh bitterly to himself.

Guess the walls aren't that thick.

As the sirens began to fade, none of them moved. Yeah, it never stopped being sort of surreal. They waited for the telltale crash of store glass or gunshots in the distance, but for now, things had yet to get into full swing.

Or so they'd thought.

Life was weird and unexpected. That much Kuroo knew. But if someone had told him all the twists and turns he'd go through over the course of the next twelve hours, he would have laughed in their face.

He'd be wrong though.

Now, it wasn't abnormal for them to get orders later in the night, usually from families waiting out the Purge or from rich assholes throwing Purge parties. Kuroo didn't get it, and he didn't appreciate the calls, but it was his job.

But again, the calls normally came later. Like, much later.

So when the phone on the counter started to ring not even two minutes after the sirens stopped, only Kyoutani managed to find his voice through the shock of it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

[bookdorp]

A Court of Winds and Ruin; Prologue and Chapter 1 & 2

So, I started A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas, and this will be the second time I read it. I don’t remember too much from my first read, only the big moments. And that I was kind of disapointed with how everything went down. Still, I’d like to read A Court of Silver Flames because I don’t like giving up on series that I do like, even if they’re not perfect.

I thought I’d write out my thoughts while reading ACOWAR, which is usually a few chapters per day. 

ALSO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD

The Prologue thing about Rhys. Not sure why it has to be there but I guess it’s because there’ll be a war with Hybern and Rhys is having bad memory flash backs. I don’t remember from my first read if there’ll be more about this later in the book but I hope so. Rhys dealing with memories of a previous war sounds interesting.

Chapter one finds Feyre at the Spring Court. A spy and infiltrator and stuff. Feyre thinks back a lot about what happened at the end of ACOMAF with her sisters. She hates Tamlin, obviously and ofcourse, for making a deal with Hybern. That was a horrible move Tamlin. I might understand some of your reasoning for wanting Feyre back out of the claws you think Rhys has her in, but selling out to Hybern is NOT GOOD. And I’m wondering where the smart Tamlin from ACOTAR went. He was a lot more cunning then. We’re supposed to believe he’s suddenly so stupid that he makes a deal with Hybern? Luckily, I remember from my first read that Tamlin is playing the long game here and plans on double crossing Hybern. It’s nice to know this while reading ACOWAR for the second time. It makes more sense for why Tamlin is so pliant to Hybern. He’s trying to gain their trust so he can use that informatino against them later.

Which, to me, says that his biggest mistake is not telling Feyre he’s playing his own game with Hybern. But then again, maybe he doesn’t trust Feyre after the time she spend in the Night Court, which, to him, is still an evil place because Rhys wants the world to believe it’s an evil place. so I guess I sort of understand why he doesnt’ trust Feyre entirely. 

COMMUNICATION IS KEY

I really don’t like how everything about the Spring Court is now bad in Feyre’s eyes. And smell. It’s not the roses’ fault they smell like roses. It feels like just because she now hates Tamlin (which is her good right) she needs to hate everything about the Spring Court. She loved it in ACOTAR, so it’s just hate for the sake of hating I think. 

It’s the same with Tamlin. She hates him so now he has no good qualities at all. Everything about him is bad now. All the good things he did in ACOTAR have been turned into a bad things, as if he was a monster from the beginning? Tamlin has done good things. He does care about his people and his court. Did everyone forget what he did for Alis? What he did for Feyre’s family?

I kind of wish Feyre would remember good things too instead of hating the scent of roses and hating the blue sky. How interesting would it be to read about her return to the Spring Court, wanting to tear it down, and then see her struggle with the good things that happened there, the good in Tamlin she had forgotten about. It would be interesting to read about that kind of struggle inside herself. To love good memories but hate present pain. 

Ianthe is evil though, no doubt about that. In case anyone forgot, Ianthe was the one who gave Feyre’s sisters to Hybern. NOT Tamlin. NOT Lucien. I don’t remember what happened to Ianthe but I hope it hurt.

Lucien knows something is up. And he’s his cunning self again. Doesn’t trust Feyre but knows she’s his only chance at meeting his Mate again. See! Struggle in characters is interesting! This is why Lucien is a fun characters to read about. He’s so grey. I know we’re supposed to think Rhys is grey but he’s obviously not. Lucien is GREY all through.

Chapter two has the Hybern twins in the Spring Court. The twins are creepy, but we don’t know much about them yet. 

Anyone else feel like Feyre really is not as sneaky or smart or cunning as she thinks she is? And why does everything she does or says have to be explained to us. We know why she’s pretending to be nice to Tamlin. We know why she says this or that. We don’t need to to be explained each time that she trying to set them all up against eachother to bring the Spring Court down. We know she’s trying to gain his trust to them break it! Show it through your writing. Stop explaining it! Trust your readers to be smart enough to figure things out. 

Still love Lucien and love to watch him struggle.

And only one mention of Alis? Alis, who was Feyre’s friend in ACOTAR, who helped her reach UTM in ACOTAR, who helped her in ACOMAF and only asked Mor to take care of her when she was taken away? And all we get is a mention of how Alis did her hair? There are good people in the Spring Court too, but Feyre hates Tamlin too much, so she doenst’ think about them. At least not yet, maybe we’ll get more of it in coming chapters.

How does Feyre suddenly know how to cast nets with her mind by the way? In ACOMAF she couldn’t do any of those things. She could only shield herself, not cast nets. I mean, I like that she’s learned more subtler ways to use magic, but she learned it only in the past month or so? And wouldn’t theb twin Daemati feel that it’s her? Lucien and Tamlin are not Daemati, and thought that was known. Maybe I’m wrong, I guess we’ll find out.

Conclusion so far

I feel a little meh about the first wto chapters. There’s too much comparing to the Night Court. We know you love the Court of Dreams Feyre, and nothing can compare, but to hate every single simple thing about the Spring Court is just petty. And if you want to hate it, just don’t tell me every five sentences. We get it.

And instead of just hating Tamlin all the time, it would be much more interesting if she stied to understand him. Understanding someone doesn’t mean you accept what they did as right, it means understanding their reasons. But she doens’t even try. Maybe that’s because we, the reader, are not allowed to know about Tamin’s double cross yet, but it would have been a perfect time to start leaving bread-crumbs about the double cross.

Readers liiiiike bread-crumbs.

On to the next chapters :D