#(my choir sings his stuff)

[match-your-steps]

unpopular opinion but I hate michael buble's christmas album. least favorite album ever in the world that I can think of. I would prefer objectively bad music, christmas or not, and I am not kidding or exaggerating, nor was that a hard choice to make

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[m0therofp3arl]

i've just begun playing guitar and holy fuck beacuse it is SO FUN my fingers hurt my wrist hurts everything hurts lol. i got my mom to teach me 3 chords (C, G, D) and then just played them for an hour and a half. i am very happy right now :D

[eastorhild]

I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere: Episode 182: The Polyphonic Motets of Lassus

One of the most remarkable characteristics of Sherlock Holmes was his power of throwing his brain out of action and switching all his thoughts on to lighter things whenever he had convinced himself that he could no longer work to advantage. I remember that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus.

Holmes: Anyway that’s all we can do for the international espionage crisis BACK TO MEDIEVAL MUSIC FIXATION (or well renaissance really)

Watson 🤝 Me: God I wish that were me

[dulc3vida]

durazno

pope heyward x lamb!reader

content warning: a peach gets violated, blasphemy, the good stuff. 18+ read at your own risk.

2.4k words

Pope Heyward is not a religious man. He’s a man of science. He likes tangible things that can be studied and understood.

No matter how much he tried explaining that to Heyward, it didn’t matter. As long as he lived under their roof it meant he had to put on his best dress shirt and slacks every Sunday to go to church. It wasn’t all bad. Everyone was really nice there and the music was pretty good.

His favorite part of church is you. The preacher's daughter. Always at the front of the choir, soft voice singing “Christ Be Our Light” and other hymns. You’re truly an angel. You always helped lead the kids out of mass into their Sunday school classrooms. You always volunteered with the food bank and at the animal shelter. You even tutored after school at the public library.

It’s a self indulgent fantasy, Pope thinking he could have you in any way. You’re kook royalty, right up there next to the Camerons. Even if social status wasn’t an issue, a girl like you would never go for him. He reminded himself of that fact every time you caught him staring and smiled demurely from across the pews. You’re a nice girl, you smile at everyone.

Pope, unfortunately, always managed to look away before he could catch your eyes lingering and your teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you stared at him with curiosity.

After hurricane Agatha, you suggested to your father the church should gather resources to help with relief. You were surprised at his reluctance and you recited bible verses until you turned blue, not taking no for an answer. “Love thy neighbor, daddy. You taught me that.” He held out for a while, but nevertheless he agreed so long as you helped organize.

You rallied the support of all the kooks, gathering donations. They could never say no to you, even if they didn’t necessarily want to help provide aid to the inhabitants of the cut. You got on your dad’s boat with a group of volunteers from church and set sail for the mainland, returning with tons of food and other necessities. It took an entire day for your group to get all the care packages ready and to assign groups to specific addresses.

When delivery day came around, you made sure one specific address was reserved just for you. Your dad made himself clear that he didn’t want you wandering around the cut by yourself but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, you thought to yourself as your bike rode up the gravel driveway of Heyward’s. You prayed the night before that Pope would be there and God answered. Pope was on the dock, spraying some buckets clean with a hose. His striped button down open and his bare chest on display, making your heart pound in your chest. He doesn’t turn around to look at you when he hears you approaching.

“Almost done, Pops. Just got a few more.”

“Hi, Pope.” You greet, lacing your words with sweetness.

Pope whipped around at the sound of your voice. “Hey-Hi.” His face burns as he stutters over a basic greeting. It didn’t help that you were staring into his soul with your big brown eyes like a lost little lamb. “Can I help you with anything?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He almost thinks you’re checking him out.

“No.” You shake your head, soft waves cascading over your shoulders. There is an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say until you remember the bags in your hands. “I brought this… For your family… It’s from the church. You know, relief. It’s not much-”

“This is great, thank you.” Pope took one of the bags and then noticed the other one in your hands. “What's that?”

“Uhm… Peaches. For you.” You held the bag out, intentionally letting your fingers linger on his. “My dad went to Georgia last week for a church thing. These are my favorite.” You licked your lips as you watched him pull one out of the bag and dig his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. You wondered what it would feel like to be the peach.

Pope didn't know if he just wanted the fruit to taste good or if it was actually that good because he practically moaned at the taste. “This is the best peach I’ve ever had.” It made you laugh and it sounded like a melody. He could only imagine that you tasted just as good. “Thank-”

The sound of JJ hooting and hollering alerted both of your attentions. “Come on, loverboy! We gotta get a move on!” He called from the HMS Pogue.

“I should go.” You smiled at him warmly. “Bye, Pope. Have a blessed day.” You called out to his friends, waving as you turned to get back on your bike.

“You too, sweetheart!” JJ called back, earning a slap to the arm from John B.

“Don't be a creep, dude.”

“What? I was just being nice?”

Pope watched you swing your leg over your bike, the wind catching your skirt and blowing it upwards just enough to reveal your cotton white panties. JJ nearly broke his neck trying to get a better look.

“Pervs…” Kie rolled her eyes. “That's the preacher's daughter, you know that right?”

“I know.” A smirk spread over JJ’s face. “Church girls are always the freakiest. You know, pent up sex feels? Bet she humps her pillow every night starin’ at a cross-”

“Okay, that's enough.” Pope finally turns around once he is sure his hardening dick isn’t visible. “Let's go.”

“Ooh, peaches?” John B wiggled his fingers together and reached for the bag but Pope yanked it away. “Oh come on, there's at least 12 in there. Are you on your way to be in a math problem?” Pope sighed and tossed one at John B. He turned to Kiara and JJ who were sitting on their knees, groveling like dogs. They each get a peach tossed at them.

“That's what I’m talking about.” JJ bit his peach. “She's totally into you.”

“No, she's not. She's just being nice.”

“Hey, John B? You get any Georgia peaches in your care package?” He looked at the label on the fruit before biting the peach again.

“Nah. You?”

“Nah. Want my advice?” JJ tossed the pit of his peach into the water.

“I really don't-” Pope shook his head, taking control over the wheel of the HMS.

“Try that door. I guarantee it's unlocked for you.”

Pope was usually a sound sleeper. His dreams were never too scary and he was always able to fall asleep once he focused on his breathing for a bit. Tonight was different.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw you.

He couldn’t help it. You invaded his mind the second he stepped into your fathers church. When he raised his hand in worship it was always for you. As far as Pope was concerned, God wasn’t real. You were real. Someone he could genuinely worship and devote himself to completely. Selfishly. You were the lamb and he was the pathetic, cowardly lion.

Pope sat up in bed and looked around his room tiredly until his eyes stopped on the bag of peaches. He wasn’t sure why he brought them into his room but he knew he would regret it in the morning. He got out of bed and grabbed a peach before lying back in bed. He pressed a finger against its center, obscenely digging his finger inside and pulling out the pit.

Juice dripped onto his chest and onto his chin as he sucked all the fruit off the pit before tossing it aside, moving the peach down his boxers. It was a tight fit and it made him screw his eyes shut. It didn’t help.

All it took was 3 strokes and the image of the faint outline of your pussy through your panties and he was biting his hand to muffle the sound of his orgasm. He set the peach on his nightstand feeling the need to take a cold, cold shower before he went to bed.

In the morning, Pope felt guilty. Pope is not a religious man but something about what he had done made him feel the need to seek penance. He needed to face some kind of punishment, even if it meant confessing that he fucked a peach to the thought of the preacher’s daughter.

The only spot in the world where you could truly be yourself was the confessional. No one came to confess as much as they needed so it was only really ever used on occasions that called for it. You liked coming to the church on the days where no one was there except your father doing paperwork in his office. It was the perfect place to read books your parents wouldn’t approve of. From medieval torture methods to smut. Anything mildly taboo that you could sneak out of the public library. You always returned the books and repented.

Today, you were halfway through A Certain Hunger when you heard the doors of the church creak open. You peek out of the door and immediately close it. Pope is making his way towards the booth.

He steps inside and closes the door, not daring to look towards who he thinks is the minister. Instead, he closes his eyes. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Pope inhales sharply when there is no response. He takes it as permission to continue. “I gave into temptation and lust. I… I…” Pope didn’t know how to describe it. “I… committed a sex act… with a peach. I feel incredibly guilty and it’s not the act that I feel most guilty about but who I was thinking about during it. I feel like I violated her in some way and-”

“Was it me?” Your soft voice made his heart drop. He thinks he’s hallucinating. It was silent for a minute before you repeat yourself. “Were you thinking about me, Pope?”

Pope took another moment before responding. “Yes.” He was mortified at your silence. “I’m really, really sorry-” He was cut off by the sound of your door opening and shutting. His mind raced with the possibility of you running to your father ready to tell him what a sick deviant he is.

Instead, the door to his side of the confessional opened and you closed the door behind yourself.

“Hi.” You practically whispered, a smile playing on your face that you were trying to hide. “Did you, really?” He nods, afraid to speak. “I’m sorry.”

Pope has to blink a few times to digest your words. “Why?”

“I was tempting you.” You confess, thinking on everytime you would give Pope a coquettish glance or your bold move wearing a skirt you knew would show your panties off with one breeze. He stared at you inquisitively. “I’ve been trying to seduce you. I’m sorry I led you to sin.” You knelt before him. “Recently, I have been overcome with lustful thoughts about you. I… I use the thought of you for pleasure.” Your confession was sending all blood in Pope’s brain straight down to dick. “I don’t think you deserve any penance.” Your voice quieted to a whisper before you carefully reached to touch his bulge. Pope made no move to stop you.

“What are you doing?” He questions, voice strangles at the feeling of your hand rubbing against his dickprint. You looked up at him, the same way you look when you take the body of christ into your mouth.

“Paying my penance.” You slip your hand down his pants and stroke his already hard cock. His skin is soft and it’s a little bit curved. Your mouth waters at the feel. You do what you read in your books, pumping your hand up and down slowly. You were enjoying this.

Pope’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Wait… Are you sure we should do this?”

“I can stop if you want…” You pulled him out of his pants, admiring how pretty his dick is in your hand. “But, remember Pope… The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. Neither should you.” You sink your mouth onto him and he feels like he is in heaven. “We can always repent. Love covers a multitude of sins and God loves us.” You reassure him, taking him back into your mouth.

Pope feels like he’s on fire from his head to his toes. His head rests against the wall as you bob your head up and down his length. He’s not a religious man, but this is the closest he has come to truly feeling God’s presence. He looks down at you and you are already staring at him, mouth full as you choke down as much as you can. You gag around him and come up for air, gasping as you kitten lick his tip before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

You look beautiful. Your eyes never left him. Your hair stuck to your forehead from sweat and your eyes were all watery and glassy. You even had your heel between your legs, rocking back and forth on it. You moaned and it sent vibrations all through his cock. He wanted to worship you the same way you were worshiping him. He was praying for the strength to stay silent as his eyes roam the walls, staring at the intricate cross motifs carved into the wood panels. He had never felt the watchful eye of God until now.

It was truly a miracle he lasted as long as he did because it didn’t take much longer before he was trying to pull you off. “I’m gonna-” He panted out, breathing becoming ragged. You didn’t want to come off though. You forced yourself down until your nose touched the base of his cock. You could feel him pulsing as it all shot down your throat.

Pope almost screamed when you kept sucking after he came. You came up, pressing kisses against his dick. Neither of you spoke while you put him back in his pants and then nuzzled his leg, wanting attention like a needy lamb. He pet your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Did you throw the peach away?” Pope shakes his head no. “Can I have it?”

this was unhinged and very self indulgent :p hope u like!

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 29th-February 4th 2024

Ao3 history still fucked :/

Repeating again: if I've ever reblogged one of your WIP fics, consider this my permission to tag me in them!!

Complete

🔥 Say You Were Made to Be Mine by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, Soulmarks AU | 11K | Teen): It's Valentine's Day 2018, and Eddie saves a man from choking to death in the middle of a restaurant. It's only after the man is rushed away by paramedics that Eddie realizes his hands are green. The man he saved is his soulmate. And he doesn't even know his name let alone how to find him.

For hope I'd give my everything by dragon_rider/ @evanbdiaz (Post S1, CW: Eating Disorders | 8K | Mature): After the disaster of his first date with Abby, Buck’s relationship with food changes rather dramatically.

where would you rather die by tempestaurora/ @tempestaurora (Pacific Rim AU | 4K | Teen): “Care to explain why you’ve brought a child to a military base?” Bobby asked when they returned. The base was alight with celebration; the day had been saved, the world was safe for a little longer. “Uh.” Buck glanced back at Christopher, currently talking to Karen Wilson from the research division. “He was an unaccompanied minor?” “So we leave him with the social workers, with first responders,” Bobby said, a pointedly raised eyebrow in his direction. “His dad’s a cadet at the PPDC,” Buck replied. “And his grandmother probably died in the attack, so it just felt… I don’t know, morally right?”

i've been dying to catch you dizzy by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Esablished Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go ice-skating. Oh, and Chris is there too!

🔥 The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E9, Getting Together | 17K | Teen): Still, Buck says, “Yeah, Eddie. Why don’t you teach us. What would you say if you were professing your love?” You mean something besides, “In the event of my untimely death, I made you legal guardian of my child”? ~ In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year.

let the choir bells sing by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Madney Wedding, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): All at once, Eddie has an idea. It’s definitely the stupidest idea he’s ever had in his entire life, but he has it all the same, and there’s no time to come up with a better one. He puts his hands on Buck’s elbows, tugs him in closer, and says, “Kiss me.”

When You Broke Her Heart, I'm Watching it Burn by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E11, Buck/Taylor Break-Up | 4K | General): When Buck confesses he kissed someone, Taylor makes an assumption about who. Eddie deals with what all of it means for his own future while picking up the pieces for both Buck and Taylor.

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

Color Him Father, Color Him Love by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S6E12 | 3K | General): “Connor was worried he wouldn’t feel like it’s really his kid. But I put him back in Connor’s arms, and I could see the way his face changed. The way he lit up and teared up and might have cried because that is his son. And all I could think was that I know that feeling. I know what it feels like to hold a kid and care about them and want to protect them. But it’s so different when it feels like they’re yours. It’s so much more. Even if you didn’t— Even if it’s not biological and you’re not. You’re not really the father. Because I hold Chris— I hold him and I feel like he is part of me.” ~ Buck has a revelation about what he is to Chris. And to Eddie.

turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S6, Getting Together | 4K | Not rated): To protect his heart, Eddie pulls away from Buck when he starts dating Natalia. When he decides to move to B-shift, Buck finally confronts him and certain feelings finally come to light.

with blood in my nose by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): The spray of blood hits him, first. And then Buck drops like a fucking stone. or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

🔥 3 Men 1 Baby by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent, Accidental Baby Acquisition | 21K | General): It’s a good thing the groceries have made it to the table, because the eggs would certainly have cracked from Eddie dropping the bags to the floor. Because Evan Buckley was standing there holding a baby. A baby. OR: Buck, Eddie, and Chim get a baby. Here's what happens.

you can see it with the lights out (you are in love) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Post-S6, Love Confessions | 5K | General): Turns out, Natalia does see Buck, though maybe not in the way he expected. In which Natalia realizes Buck's in love with Eddie and help him see it, too.

we could be corny by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie | 1,6K | General): Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.

🔥 Facets of a Diamond by countrygirlsfun/ @acountrygirlsfun (Canon S1-S2 | 35K | Teen): Southern California is where Buck has spent the most time since leaving Pennsylvania. Of all the places he’s lived and worked over the last few years, this place is where he decided to stay. It’s why he picked LAFD: to put down some roots. It’s warm, has the ocean, and it’s the opposite coast of his parents. So if he’s going to be here for a while, he thinks he’ll need to make an effort to let people in.

a little of that human touch by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie, Secret relationship | 1,5K | General): Buck closes his book and places it on the coffee table, pushing himself up a little more as Eddie trudges over to him. “Couldn’t sleep either?” Buck asks quietly. He wanders over to the far end of the couch and Buck moves his feet out of the way so Eddie can sit down. “Woke up and you were gone,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Buck’s feet into his lap.

you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together, Valentine's Day | 2K | Teen): The LAFD throws a Valentine's Day charity event, there's a kissing booth and Eddie is definitely not going insane with jealousy.

🔥 Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 18K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.

Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 47/54 | 87K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.

47. But What if They Were Secret Dating (S4, Explicit)

You Can't Surprise Evan Buckley by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Fluff | 5K | Mature): Ten months into their relationship, Eddie has not been able to execute a romantic surprise for Buck. But on Buck's birthday, things are about to change. (Part 2 of Birthday Surprises & Other Shenanigans)

WIP

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 1/9 | 7K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 111/? | 315K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S6/S7 Spec | 6/11 | 21K | Mature): Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.

if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Social Media fic | 1/16 | 4K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.

[springstarfangirl]

hi spring! i'm writing an orthodox jewish character and had a few questions for you.

how does a synagogue work? as in. what does a service look like, and is it possible to visit a synagogue outside of set "service" hours? is the rabbi available for discussion etc outside of those hours?

my character's dad died when he was very young, so his (jewish) mother would take him to the synagogue. would he have to sit on the male side of the synagogue as a child? or would that start after his bar mitzvah?

thank you so much!

Thank you for trusting me with these questions!

Now, a large portion of these questions might be highly dependent on where the characters live, since Israeli shuls tend to be rather different than ones in America, but I'll answer what I know and tag some other people here to offer a more diasporic perspective.

So, Orthodox Jewish prayer service happens three times a day. Morning, afternoon, and night. The morning service is the longest of the three in general, and the special additional Shabbat service is generally hooked on to the end of the morning service, making it quite long depending on the length of the Torah portion that week and how fluently the members of the shul speak Hebrew.

A service will generally be entirely in Hebrew with snippets of Aramaic, though there are places in between the prayers (mainly Shabbat night and morning) where people will sometimes stop and give a dvar Torah, which will usually be in the local language. Shabbat morning service in Israel can be as fast as an hour and a half and I've heard tell of diaspora services that take three or four hours. The length also depends on how much singing you do, and this is a different type of singing than you'd see in a Christian house of worship- we prefer to avoid choirs in our worship (I think it stinks too much of Christianity) and so singing is generally all melodic, involving everyone in the shul.

Whether you can visit a shul outside of service hours depends on the shul. Most community shuls will be locked up, but there are shuls meant to service workers in various jobs, and those will often remain open all day. The rabbi should be available outside of prayer hours for questions and advice, since as the Jewish law expert, that's what he's there for.

Specific people acting as a paid cantor isn't something I've experienced in Israel, since most people are somewhat fluent in Hebrew and the position of cantor will get passed around from week to week, but I've heard it's a thing outside of here.

Children do not have to sit on the appropriate side of the mechitza until they come of age (13 for boys, 12 for girls) but most communities will prefer having them start around the age of 10, with exceptions made depending on the situation. Depending on the style of mechitza, your character could still sit next to his mother then- if they're mobile wooden barriers or curtains, then there will be seating either side of them, and your character and his mother could sit next to each other either side of the mechitza. If the women's section is an elevated section accessed separately, then that's rough on the kid, but the mom might ask a friend to help him get used to it.

Tagging @slyandthefamilybook @daughterofstories @resplendent-ragamuffin @theskyvoid for more specific diasporic stuff.

[thedawningofthehour]

#my sister actually came up with the longer LL plot#she was like: “If you're controlled by a parasite; I'd NOT talk to it?? 100% just cut u open; remove that bitch asap”#Me: “But you don't know how to do surgeries u only ever sewed a chicken and not even well”#“Oh sounds like the parasite is scared now”#Lemonardo is not really based on her tho#She's more like Donnie; giant beautiful brain but dresses like a hot topic scarecrow with no social stats#She had a black lipstick era and I will never let her forget#It's very hard because she BOTH hotter & smarter than me; but I'm better at writing Ninja Turtle Fanfiction SO WHO ARE YOU PROUD OF NOW MOM#no but fr I love ma idiot sister she amazing

Your sister sounds hysterical and she can never meet my sister. The world would explode.

(my sister is also prettier and smarter than me too, and more successful at life. and she has a French boyfriend, which is funny considering this story's context with The French but also he is a sweetheart and I like him way better than her last boyfriend)

#Donnie is such a tsundere#“Not like I care; but here I made this specific gift for you it took only 3 months; DONT TOUCH MY HAIR; but can I sleep in ur bed tho”#Doth Draxum is a tsundere too imo (but secretly)#“Ur merely a tool; here let me carry you; Ur just my personal thermonuclear arsenal; but yeah I would die a thousand deaths to keep u safe”#Doth Raph is that meme of a dog sitting in a burning house#I'd say Leo's also tsundere; but no#He's that distant relative who keeps sending u pics of pigeons who look like you and then calls ur mom when you block him#Doth Cass is a murder goose as has been established#Bella literally the gay cousin#There's a parade going on under my window but fuck if I know what they celebrating

Not really any commentary, just loving these images. :)

Bella is like that one vine of "bitch I don't have a gay cousin. Oh gawd, I am the gay cousin-" except literally no one in this family is cishet aside from probably Raph. (and we've established that he might also be a lesbian even though he's a cis man)

#Imagine Doth Influencer AU#YT title like: "VLOG DRAXUM PRODUCTIONS KIDNAPPED OUR BRO?! NO CLICKBAIT! CALLOUT RAP feat. BELLA”

THEY ABSOLUTELY WOULD MAKE YOUTUBE VIDEOS RAGGING ON DRAXUM HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT. If this story had a more comedic tone I'd absolutely put something like that in. I've been playing with Leo doing pro-mutant propaganda stuff later with Baxter, which would definitely include shit like "right and while we're on the subject of how much Draxum sucks-" so maybe I'll let him make a silly callout video.

Bella would be such a bad rapper lol. She'd be great at beatboxing though.

HI FAI very random, but when you write scenes of a chapter, do u write all of them in the same doc, or do you write them in different ones? :') Bc I struggle to sort through mine rn (ALSO I AM.SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PIQ CHAPTER HGNGHR I'm having hand flappies thinking about what will happen next-

Also omg I know it will be a little while still but I am SO friggin thrilled to see your Bishop!!)

It depends on how solid my outline is. I was writing the next 3-4 chapters all in one doc, because I wasn't sure how I was going to group them together or even what order some of them would be in. I did create a final 'piq6' document a few days ago though, I do like having that all together and being able to see the whole thing. If I know exactly what's going into the next chapter I'll just write it in its own document.

The dual POVs thing also complicates shit, since I have to figure out the best way to alternate Gale and Leo's sections. Very often I'll just group all of Gale's scenes and then do a double page-break before Leo's scenes, and I'll figure out where Leo's scenes will go afterwards.

You should have seen me trying to sort through the original doth document, lol. I had all of Donnie's scenes written and then like half of Leo's, all in one big document. After like chapter 4 or something I knew I was going to need to figure out what was going where and set off on a massive reordering campaign. I think I had like eight different documents open to copy/paste text into, and three different highlighter colors on the master document denoting stuff that was placed, stuff that I placed and changed my mind on. Add to that there was an extra Donnie scene originally that I broke up and added to the others. The whole thing was just a fucking mess.

Oh, I also have a scraps document where I shove bits that I cut but didn't want to delete. And blurbs I want to use in the future and jotted down while the inspiration was with me. I think I have like three different documents for this right now, and nothing is labeled well. There has been one incident where I could never find the blurb I was looking for.

I'm hoping to get something out next week! Hopefully these long breaks will stop being so much of a thing, I've been working ahead a lot and we're getting into some stuff I've been really excited about.

[shotokimchi]

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God

MINORS DNI

How would they react if their cute lover was like a succubus in bed LMAO Going through some hard stuff so wanted to drop this here to laugh a little JSDFHSDK-

A/N:Sorry for being inactive y'all i swear I'm not ignoring the requests, just preparing for an important exam this year, but I'll be back around Julyyyy

Little side note: Characters are aged up so don't come at me smh

part2 w/Dabi and Midoriya

Bakugo

So we all know that this man doesn't sleep around randomly. My guy dates the "one" for him he's planning to marry you so if you aren't planning about settling down...

Too bad for you missy (Lemme see your ring finger bitch you gonna get wifed up💍)

After taking you out to meet his parents, this chili oil literally falls in love with you (i mean he already did but when he saw how you treated his momma and papa- boy was CHOKING ON HIS HEART❤️) so he decides to take your relationship to the next level.

Needs and excuse to leave early so literally tells his parents that he has a bad case of diarrhea ( Do ya'll know that video LMAO) and drags you out to his car

Lemme tell you he ran over at least 5 red lights just to have sex with you-

And you are just confused about why he's suddenly acting like a rabid dog i mean he's always acting like one but this time-

"Suki, why is your mouth foaming?"

On the way to your apartment, you had an inner conflict about actually taking him to a vet, you aint planning on telling him that tho.

After finally throwing you onto the shared bed like a sack of flour mf flies for a second in the air like a bloodthirsty mosquito- (the only difference is he's thirsty for the ✨All-mighty pussy juice✨)

Dw tho man asks for your consent because he loves you a lot and doesn't want your first time to be scary and all-

Wait did i say first time?

YES MF THINKS YOU'RE A VIRGIN- but guess what he's about to find out...

Before he can start kissing you, you push him onto his back and rip off his pants and leave a small peck on his lips before riding him like you are in a horse race- Good news gurl you are about to win, no one can compare

Poor man is speechless bc you are literally singing on his dick like you are the headliner in a choir...

And while you are singing you are rhythmically bouncing too LMAO

IM👏GONNA👏PUMP👏EVERY👏SINGLE👏DROP👏OUT👏OF👏YOU

He aint scared no he just swallowed his tongue by accident- cuz you know...

HIS GIRL IS LITERALLY DOING THE DUCK WALK ON HIS DICK (🦆🦆🦆)

WALK THAT FUCKING DUCK Y/N QUACK QUACK QUACK

He decides to grab your hips to slow you down a little bc you are causing an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.9

but instead of slowing you down now you are making him jump on the bed with you too LMAOAOAOAOAO- imagine someone breaking in and seeing two floating figures on the bed

He's like "SLOW DOWN Y/N-"

But nuh uh you are too caught up in your own horny world so you continue to milk him (Fr tho calm down queen aren't those legs tired?🦵)

After cumming for the 5th time he tapped out LMAO-

You gave him a concussion bc of making him bounce for too long KSJFHJSDKFGSDKJHSD- POOR KATSUKI

He was laying there, unconscious with drool dripping down his mouth and it took you three full minutes to realise that he passed out (OMG I'm gone-)

Fly high Katsuki Bakugo 🕊️🕊️

Dw tho you made sure to pamper him the morning after, bringing him a breakfast tray filled with pancakes and a cup of coffee. A cute innocent smile plastered on your face

"Morning, baby!"

Needless to say, he was shocked ( pretty sure he thinks it was the hottest night ever but doesn't wanna hurt his own pride by telling you that)

"WHAT HAPPENED-"

Todoroki

BAHAHAHA OMG OK LISTEN-

So both of you are lovebirds obv because Todoroki would be the most caring boyfriend ever (i'll fight you about this one 🥊🥊🥊) so its impossible not to be in love with him

So pretty baby thinks it's going to be all about kisses, vanilla, sweet loving, him showing how much he cares about you etc.

AND HE IS A VIRGIN

Todoroki being a virgin is such a turn on he trusts you enough to give his first time to you (aw❤️🤍)

...but you didnt know that he was a virgin

I mean come on look at him how can he be a virgin while looking THAT PRETTY

So one time, while you guys were chilling on the couch watching Titanic and snacking on some strawberries together he decides to make the first move and gently holds your hand while whispering sweet things to your ear and then you hear the magical word (open sesame zimzalabim this coochie 🔮)

"Y/n, I wanna do it."

BIG MISTAKE SHOTO VERY BIG- So being the horny queen you are the wicked horny grin makes its way to your lips and baby is concerned Before he can say anything you immediately grab a strawberry and stuff it into his mouth and quickly try to get him off of his sweatpants

Then you work your magic on him by giving him the best and first head of his life ✨ and trust me he is enjoying it very much

Mmmm yes that famous glock glock 60000 GOBBLE UP BABES don't let em Santa Claus looking pubic hair get into your nose tho🎅

Pretty moans were filling the living room while his fingers lock with yours

But the baby was too lost in his own pleasure so he accidentally bit the strawberry and took it out of his mouth

But you noticed so you grabbed a new one and harshly shoved it into his mouth

"Dont. swallow. the. strawberry."

Babies eyes went wide

YOU SCARED HIM

AND IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME TOO

he %100 looked like this-

So now he was drowning in his own pool of saliva trying not to bite into the strawberry while his eyes were rolling at the back of his head (bc of your amazing tongue skills)

Spot the difference between your mouth and a vacuum cleaner

NONE

When i tell you, you were sucking him DRY

like the next Todoroki generation got to the point of extinction

at this point he was trying to pry you off of his dick bc the overstimulation was TOO much lolol

Poor baby accidentally covered the couch with small burns

when you lifted your head to check up on him you were met with a sobbing Shoto

BOY WAS GASPING

Literally thought of bringing him an oxygen tank but decided against it bc he calmed down after receiving your loving kisses You layed his head on your chest while combing through his locks with your fingers, you made sure to give him a great aftercare

"Are first times are this rough?"

You choked on Casper the ghosts dick

"WHAT-" Literally mourned for two hours bc of treating him so roughly LMAO

A/N: I'm done- sorry for the typos if i have any, i was too lazy to edit :p

[moni-logues]

Deer Tracks

Pairing: Namjoon x f. reader (Suri); A Fine Line couple

Genre: slice of life? a little angst a little fluff? established relationship

Summary:

Beautiful, sobbing high-geared fucking and then to lie silently like deer tracks in the freshly-fallen snow beside the one you love. That's all. (Deer Tracks, by Richard Brautigan)

Word count: 3.2k

Content: implicit smut (piv), that's really it tbh

A/N: Anon, this is for yoooooouuuu! And for anyone else who loves the AFL couple like I do lol my first babies, my special little creatures haha. I have genuinely had this bonus chapter/drabble/whatever you want to call it in mind since I finished writing the series. I have thought of it SO often and, truthfully, never got to the end, never quite figured out in my head how I was going to pull it together. But I'm happy with what I did and I hope you are too!!! Also shout out to sunny for finding this poem for me when I couldn't months and months ago.

*~*

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, legs swishing idly against the sheets, as if making snow angels out of them, but only the bottom half. And there was no snow. And you weren’t having fun. Sleep wouldn’t come. You had learnt that. It wouldn’t come until the smallest hours of the morning, when exhaustion finally gripped you and pulled you under. Then you would wake a few hours later, unrested, and do it all again. 

It was self-inflicted. You knew that, too. You knew that you were doing this to yourself. You were sleeping in your own bed. Namjoon slept next door. You didn’t have to wonder if he was asleep because you could faintly make out the sound of his snoring even through the wall.  

Things weren’t going well and you weren’t dealing with it. You were making it Namjoon’s problem, making yourself Namjoon’s problem. He knew it was happening. You knew it was happening. He didn’t have the power to stop you. You didn’t think you did, either. Even though you wanted to. You could feel all your worst instincts clawing at you, invisible hands crawling over the edge of the bed to pull you apart, pull your life apart. You wanted to resist them and you wanted them to devour you, both at the same time.  

You loved him. You were in love with him. That was the problem. That was the thing that kept you up at night. The anxiety of it screamed at you and, sometimes, you could block it out; sometimes, he would kiss you and you would melt into him and everything felt golden; other times, more often recently, he would kiss you and you’d feel sick. Sick because you wanted to escape. Sick because you wanted him to stop seeing you. Sick because you loved him. Sick because he made you happier than you thought you would ever be again. Sick because it all terrified you.  

So you pulled away. You pulled yourself back into your shell, set up spikes around it, were erratic and irrational about who got access to you and when.  

You were sleeping in your own bed.  

* 

Namjoon had, weeks ago now, planned a sweet winter getaway. Just a long weekend. There was astronomical stuff happening: a big moon, some meteors, something that he would tell you about as you sat, breath puffing in front of you, huddled together outside a cabin, looking at it all. He had said you wouldn’t be able to see it well in the city; he was going to book somewhere remote, where the sky would be dark and clear. You had wondered why it mattered so much but matter it did, to Namjoon, so you had agreed, looked forward to it.  

Until you had realised you loved him. Until he had come home one day, late and tired, and a choir had started singing in your heart. There had been nothing special about that day, not at all, but you had looked at him and he had smiled at you—crinkly-eyed and deep-dimpled—and something inside you had bloomed. It was love. It was horror. 

* 

You wanted him to cancel. To say, ok this is a bad idea, let’s not go and spend 72 hours in each other’s company with no escape and nowhere else to go. Because you wouldn’t say it but you didn’t want to go. You were fighting with yourself not to run, not to scarper, not to dig yourself a hole in the ground and live there instead. You could convince yourself you were coping while you had work to distract you with (and Namjoon had his work, too). But a weekend in the country? You wouldn’t be able to get away from it if you couldn’t get away from him.  

There was a slightly tentative knock at the door. 

“Yeah?” you called. 

Namjoon poked his head around.  

“I know we talked about heading up a little later but they’re forecasting snow so I think we should get an earlier train, is that ok?” 

No. 

“What time is that?” 

“Probably around 9.” 

“Ok.” 

He nodded, hesitated at the door for a second, then nodded again, leaving you to it. You felt sick again. Terrified. Half of you wanted to run out to him, to tell him to please never, ever let you go. Half of you wanted to run.  

* 

The train was slow because the forecast had been partially right: it was snowing, but it was snowing earlier and heavier than predicted. The journey from the train station to the cabin was even worse. Namjoon couldn’t drive; somehow, you had gone all this time not knowing that. You had also forgotten that he had mentioned something about renting a car when he first brought up this trip.  

You hadn’t driven for years. Hadn’t needed to. Wouldn’t have been able to afford a car anyway. You were anxious. You were already anxious and now you had to drive winding roads on forested hills while the snow fell thick like cotton balls.  

“I’m not fucking doing it,” you said, as you and Namjoon stood outside the car rental place.  

“We don’t have any other way of getting there.” 

“Taxi?” 

“They won’t go. I already asked.” 

“Well then how do we get there? I'm not fucking driving.” 

“Suri, plea-” 

“No! I said no! I hate driving. I can’t drive! I won’t!” 

“You said you have a licence.” 

“Yes, I have a licence but I haven’t needed it for years. You seriously expect me to drive in this? I’ll kill us both.” 

Namjoon pulled his beanie from his head with a sigh and then fixed it back in place.  

“I’m sorry. This was not how I planned it. I didn’t know the weather would be this bad, but can you please drive? We can take it slow—everyone else will be driving slowly, too. I promise it’ll be worth it when we get there.” 

You knew it was an argument you couldn’t win because, short of going straight back home, there were no other options. With the way the snow was falling, it was even possible that there wouldn’t be any trains running anyway. You offered him your best scowl and stomped inside to pick up the keys. You wanted to argue, but you wanted to get out of the cold. 

* 

The journey was almost painfully tense. Driving, as it turned out, was quite a lot like riding a bike and, even with the snow, you coped pretty well: drove carefully, took corners slowly, made it to the cabin in a little under an hour. But you held onto your anger like a security blanket. It was, in some ways, a relief to be able to cling to it, rather than being tossed about in the waves of your anxiety. Anger was safe. Anger kept people away. Kept Namjoon away.  

You were hoping for blessed relief from the cold. You were expecting to open the door and be hit with a wall of warmth, fire lit, heating on, a small side lamp illuminating just enough of the space that you could find your way to the light switch. 

It was dark. It was just as cold inside as it was out. You stood in the entry way and clenched your teeth together while Namjoon fumbled with the thermostat.  

“I’m hungry,” you announced when nothing more had happened a minute later. 

“Ok, yeah, we can eat in a sec. Let me just figure this out.” 

“What do we have to eat?” 

“I don’t know, babe; I think there’s something in that bag.” 

Namjoon gestured vaguely to the pile of bags next to you, which told you nothing. You inhaled, preparing to heave an aggrieved sigh when Namjoon straightened and looked at you. 

“I know, ok? I know. I’m sorry. This isn’t like I wanted it to be either.”  

Sentences short, clipped, like he was fighting his own frustration. He probably was. You were being a brat. You knew it. You were making yourself his problem. You were pushing buttons.  

Somehow, this time, it didn’t feel like victory. It felt like defeat.  

You let your sigh fall and stomped past him, flopping onto the sofa still in all your winter stuff. He turned back to the thermostat. 

* 

It remained tense and quiet for the rest of the evening and when you (fully clothed with a jumper and socks on) slipped into bed next to Namjoon (also fully clothed), you had deflated. You couldn’t sustain your anger that long, not when Namjoon didn’t fight back.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, chewing on the inside of your lip, eyes cast down.  

Namjoon leant over and pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“I’m sorry, too. This isn’t what I wanted.”  

You bit harder on your lip when you felt it wobble.  

“I just thought it would be nice to get away. The sky isn’t even fucking clear because of the snow. I should’ve planned this be-” 

“No,” you said, interrupting. “I’m just being pissy.” 

“Yeah...” He paused. “About that-” 

“I’m sorry.”  

You didn’t want him to ask, didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to have to admit it, finally, that you loved him. Certainly not after that day.  

“I...”  

You hesitated because you could feel your heart thumping and that prickling sensation on your skin that said you were stripping yourself bare. “It’s just me. It’s not you. I... I’m not trying to be a dick. Well, I guess, I-... I’m sorry.”  

You risked a glance at him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. He pressed another kiss into your hair. You closed your eyes and felt your limbs loosen, something inside of you unlocking, allowing you to relax into the warmth of his body.  

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “As long as you’re here.” 

You nodded.  

“I’m here.” 

You raised your face as he went to kiss your head again and he caught your eyebrow. You didn’t give him the opportunity to laugh or say anything; you put your lips against his, turned your body towards him, and hoped you could say without saying the thing that burnt inside you. 

* 

It somehow felt like it had been a long time. That the nights that had passed since the last time he was between your thighs had stretched into weeks, elongated themselves in your memory and your body, so that every touch, every movement felt like remembering. Felt like something almost lost but found again. Felt, as it always did, like something coming together within you. Never more in your body than when he was, too. It grounded you. It brought you closer to yourself, closer to him, as though they were one and the same.  

“F-uck!” you cried, gasping and panting as you tried to hold on, wanting this to last.  

You were so close to it, to letting all that pleasure wash over you, drown you, take you under, but you didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to let this pass. You wanted to stay in this moment, this perfect moment, where it was just you and him and everything you did best.  

If it passed, you would have to confront it again: the fear, the terror that your love placed inside you.  

“Shit,” you swore again, but it wasn’t pleasure this time. It was frustration because you’d thought about it. Because now you were thinking about it.  

You shut your eyes. You couldn’t look at him without that painful heart swelling, that effulgent warmth that enveloped you, followed by the ice-cold trickle of anxiety. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.  

Did he love you? Could he? Could anyone?  

Your breath hitched and you tightened your fingers around Namjoon’s arm, nails digging into his soft flesh. You could feel it welling, this feeling, these tears, brimming in your eyes, sticking to your lashes. 

The moment the first fell was the moment it all came loose. You came, cursing and crying, your body writhing, Namjoon firm and solid and stable around you. You came, hot and harried, clutching him to you like a buoy, as he held you secure and safe as he always had. You came unfastened, unbuckled, apart at the seams, flopping into him, just crying now, just crying.  

“Baby...”  

His voice was as soft as his body was not.  

“Are you ok?” 

You nodded, desperate for him to believe you as you continued to sob. He placed a hand on your head, stroking gently, the other rubbing small circles into your back.  

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “You’re ok.” 

And you loved him more because that was all he said. He didn’t push you for answers, didn’t make you reassure him. He held you and soothed you and let you be sweaty and naked and messy in his arms.  

You were shivering with the cold before the tears on your cheeks had dried. You both wordlessly re-dressed and snuggled under the bedsheets, still clinging to each other. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.  

You knew he already knew the answer. No.  

“I’m fine,” you answered, muffled against his hoodie.  

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”  

You nodded, because it was easier to just say yes now, to push the issue into the future. You could avoid it then, too.  

* 

Sleep didn’t come. You knew it wouldn’t, even though the cold made you tired, even though you could still feel Namjoon in every one of your muscles. You looked at Namjoon, at his face, peaceful as he slept. Not snoring, not right now. Tipped on his side, broad shoulders curled inwards. You thought about what he might see if your places were reversed. Did you look cute as you slept? Could he have lain and felt like he could look at you forever? Did it make his blood feel sweet inside him, having you close to him?  

It felt impossible. Too easy. Everyone had said it was. Namjoon had said it was. Some of it had been easy, you thought. Maybe. The parts where it was you and him and no one else. The parts when you forgot to be self-conscious, forgot to supervise yourself so strictly. The parts when you just let yourself have it—happiness—even if you didn’t think you deserved it. 

You looked towards the window, where that curious glow of snow was sneaking around the edges of the curtains. It was still dark outside, but snow had a light of its own somehow, a peculiar way of shining by itself.  

You slipped carefully out of bed, wrapping your arms around yourself, and went to look. You pulled the curtain back and it was still snowing. Fat flakes fluttering slowly to the ground which was perfectly smooth and white. Unblemished. Untarnished. A blank slate. 

You looked at the dark lump of Namjoon’s body under the covers. You were a blank slate. You had said that. Namjoon brought colour onto it. You had said that. You looked out at this perfect snowfall, the silent padding as it placed itself gently on the ground. A blank slate. Beautiful. No one had disturbed it. Not even a creature.  

You had thought of your blank slate as empty. Blank because it held nothing. Blank with a freedom that scared you because you had been worn down and made to fear it. Your blankness made you hollow and worthless.  

But this snow wasn’t. It was full. It was generous. It was giving itself to the earth. You had chosen. You had made your choice and it was Namjoon. Was always going to be Namjoon from the moment you had met him. And you had stopped fighting that.  

You thought you had stopped fighting it but you had only paused. You stopped fighting it until you started again, until love blossomed in your heart just as everything on the surface started to bury itself underground. The richness and fullness of your own spring felt wrong, at odds with the earth and at odds with what you knew. What you had come to expect. What you had come to believe was all you would ever have.  

You looked at the snow. You looked at Namjoon. You practised. 

“I love you,” you said, barely more than mouthing the words but they still felt loud in the blanketed silence of the room. “I love you.”  

You looked at the snow. Still perfect. Fewer flakes coming down now, the sky no longer heavy with clouds. You had been so intent on the snow that you hadn’t noticed the moon: bigger and brighter than you’d seen it before. This was what Namjoon had wanted to see.  

“Hey,” you said, gently shoving against his shoulder.  

He groaned, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. 

“What’s up?” 

“Come.” 

You tugged on his hand, pulled him out of bed. 

“Look,” you urged, pointing at the moon.  

Namjoon’s response was hummed as he adjusted to being awake. He shivered and pulled you into his body, back to his chest, arms around your waist.  

“The moon,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, the super one.” 

“Frosty.” 

“Huh?” 

“Uh, it’s called the Frosty moon, I think. If I were awake, I’d remember.” 

You smiled and placed your hands over his, leaning your head back against him. 

“I love you.” 

Namjoon laughed and you froze, rigid as he let you go, as he turned you around. His hands moved to your face and he kissed you, warm and soft, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I love you,” he replied, kissing you once more before he laughed again. “I fucking love you.” 

“You do?” Your voice was whisper thin, air caught in your throat. 

“Yes, I do! I love you!” 

The bubble of worry in your chest popped and it all disappeared, all that fear, all that doubt. He loved you. He fucking loved you.  

“I love you,” you repeated, looking at him this time.  

Even in the early-morning darkness, you could see his eyes sparkle, see the dimples in his cheeks. He mouthed the words back at you, picked you up and carried you back over to the bed. He wrapped himself tightly around you, lips against the back of your neck, your shoulder, your jaw.  

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he said. “I didn’t want to put any pressure on you, so I wanted you to say it first but, fuck-” he laughed again- “fuck, I’ve wanted to tell you so badly.” 

“You have?” 

“Yes, baby. I love you. I really fucking love you.”  

“I love you.” 

You stared through the darkness at your hands, clasped together just in front of you. The words felt fuller than you ever thought they could. You had thought they would feel like something being taken from you, like they would open up a hole inside you and leave you bereft but they didn’t. Each time you said it, you felt filled up. With every repetition of the words, you felt more whole. Coming together. Being brought together inside yourself, all your little broken pieces.  

You loved him. He loved you.  

You fell asleep quickly and slept soundly until late morning. 

[ttheatre-trashh]

Read me yap about original kids ride the cyclone :333

for any more info about this show!! Look through the tag here

Dream of life. Jane doe walks on stage, and is kind of crumpled over, and slowly makes her way to stand up with stiff movements. This is the only song I have a recording of. As she slowly stands up, Jane doe lifts her head.

She has an echo effect added to her voice, and it sounds amazing. 

The Karnak is honestly hilarious, I loved his comedic timing. I can’t tell if he also had the echo effect, or if he was just an amazing voice actor. Sometimes he would mess up a line, but very quickly turn it into a robotic stutter, which was pretty smart. Love this guy. 

For virgil, they projected a projection of him onto the backdrop curtain. He was so silly I loved himmm. There was a fun transition from tiny rat form to anthro bass player. The bass solo was also great obv. 

Uranium suite was incredible. Ocean has almost this Disney channel main character voice? Idk but it’s so good. 

Mischa was slacking the whole time duh. Pulled out his phone at some bits. Ricky looked bored out of his fucking minddddd. Constance is just the sweetest ever I will kill for her. Noel is amazing and I love him. Like the pure SASS and EVERYTHING about him. Ricky the whole time stared into the audience like “kill me now”. We made eye contact a few times it was nice haha

After Uranium Ocean is kind of like,, calm but freaking out?? She kicks Karnaks box a few times throughout the show, including here. There are fun lights flickering and sound effects. Her voice is squeaky and cracky when she panicked or whatever. Again, karnaks comedic timing is amazing. 

What the world needs was so good. Oceans voice is amazing, the choreography was so snappy and swishy and sassy, very ocean. They hold up signs that spell out OCEAN, and in the flip side of them there’s a picture of ocean. Everyone was on point, and oceans delivery of every line was perfect. Like, the pure disgust she has when she goes “and a transformer movie” like babe has a personal vendetta against transformer movies.

I cannot stress enough how on point the choreography was, during the whole show, but like, I’m obsessed with the choreography of this song. There was a lot of hand flicking of that makes sense? Some fun little kicks.  There are tiny clips of it in some of the promo. 

After wtwn, ocean is freaking out. Karnaks delivery is perfect “blah blah blah needs a unanimous vote” oceans face drops. Long pause. « from each. And every. Member of the choir.”  

When ocean says she “loves” Jane, jane reaches out her arms and runs to hug her, but ocean dodges her and Jane doe just ends up almost running  into a wall. When she says she loves Noel, he just looks at her like “bitchgetthefuckawayfrommeew” and does his gay little pose. 

(E, the actor for Noel, uses they/them, so if I use those I’m talking about the actor) The play was so cute. After Noel said his line, ocean started crying and screaming and her and Constance were whining “NOOOEEEELL WHY DID YOU SAY TAHTTTTTT!!???” “UGH you always ruin these things!!!”  And stuff haha. It was great. 

Noel’s monologue was incredible, he fell to the floor during the dramatic bit about wanting to feel, goddamit.

 “I wanted to wake up,” fake throwing up for a second “in my own VOMIT.” huge grin. “Missing TEETH!” 

Noel goes behind the curtain/projector screen that they have on stage and starts singing. At about “I write poems to burn my firelight,” he comes out in Monique costume. Monique was so cool, she had fishnets, the iconic black wig, and a dress just like kholbys iconic one, but there was a little bow in the front,  and the skirt had strips of ripped fabric on the skirt. 

Again, the choreography of this song is amazing. everyone had chairs, and it was very leg-y? If that makes sense? But like in a “sexy” way, not an “Irish jig” sort of way.  Super snappy and clean cut. vocals are amazing, obviously. Ricky is kindof ominously standing in a corner with a beret and a cigarette playing the accordion. 

For the kiss, Monique and Constance danced together, then Monique and Ricky. Then Monique slapped Ricky, and Mischa comes over and they kissed. Adorable. 

The ending was so good, like the final « if I could have just one dream/if he could have just one dream/id be. That fucked. Up GIRL./HEY ». Mwah. Chefs kiss.

Every story’s got a lesson was so silly. Constance nailed the improv scene. This Ocean just. Needs to be in control. All the time. But like?? I’m making her sound bad but I felt bad for her because she wants everything to go her way but she’s not great at expressing that in a positive way. Any way, Constance gets excited at the end, like, « so I go out and do all. The. Drugs. 😁😁 » her little « BATH SALTS FOR EVERYONE!!! 😃😃 » 

Anyways. Mischa. 

Spence is literally an amazing mischa, he was so good. He started beatboxing really badly into the mic before he started talking about feeling, and the audience laughed. His accent was on point, and he spoke really naturally. Like, it didn’t feel super forced unlike some other Mischa’s I’ve heard (all Mischa are amazing some are just better accents yk)

This song is awesome was so fun. He had a tight white undershirt under his button down, which kind of just added to the silliness of the song instead of just being shirtless, yk? He had a chain and hat, duh. 

Everyone had these massive light up glasses, and Ricky was wearing a robot mask. It was so silly and I loved it. They did the iconic thing where they held onto Mischa’s unbuttoned shirt and made us flow to look like wind blowing

Omg. Talia. So this was so good. 

He awkwardly yet confidently re buttons his shirt, which the audience laughed at but I was like “yall stop that this gets emotional” but I think I’m just a bitch lol. 

The Talia monologue was incredible. Just, yes. Delivery was amazing, everything. I cried. A lot.  Mischa scrolled on his phone when something new appeared in the projector, like the photos and stuff. They used the curtain/backdrop as a projector screen, and there was the footage of Talia and Mischa. The wedding stuff and romance and shit. 

It was so sweet. I don’t have anything special to say about it, the monologue was just amazing. I completely broke down. 

For Talia, oh god. This was genuinely of the best things I’ve ever seen live. Spence’s voice is amazing, and again, I sobbed through this whole song. 

Everyone had the traditional costumes, and the girls had the big skirts, with the projections of Talia on them. I wasn’t sure if they were gonna do that, but it was beautiful. They also had the projection on Mischa’s chest at the end, when he’s belting. I completely fucking lost it.  

And then there’s the iconic nischa hug.  My heart. 💜 oh my god. 

MY FINGERS HURT (I LOST MY FIRST COPY OF THIS??? I HAD TO RE TYPE THIS???) BUT @noelgruberfr and @knockoff-conlon FEEL FREE TO FINISH THIS !!!

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

headcannon for all the batfam members

there’s so many.

Helena Wayne

she’s currently nonexistent in the comics, but she’s the daughter of Bruce and Selena. I’m going to put her age as like near Damien’s age as in 10 or 11, let Helena exist she’s cool.

Helena and Damien constantly squabble, but they are pretty close. Jason taught her how to use a bow, because he’s actually a really good marksman and wanted his little sister to you know not be completely useless in a fight. Dick and Tim kinda don’t know what to do, because she just kinda doesn’t like them as much. But they practice gymnastics together and Tim is trying to teach her coding she does not understand it.

She also was taught loads of skills by Selena who is beyond proud of her, yes Selena may be retired from the theft business but she still helps Bruce all the time with break-ins and stuff.

Bizzarro

He’s here, he’s 100% Jason’s adopted son.

He would literally cry if anything happened to him, everyone is incredibly confused by who the fuck this guy is (I’m taking from current cannon and making him a Superman clone) Jason does not explain.

he rocks up to dinner one day with this guy and everyone is fucking confused, Jason stares at them and they all eat together like every Thursday night.

Conner and bizzarro hit it off and become good brothers, since they were both force grown to their age and Luther is their father. Eventually Superman/clark meets bizarro and is like “who the fuck are you” Jason also is there and stares at him and makes sure he plays nice.

Bizzaro helps out in Gotham but he mostly just vibes.

Jarro

Jarro is a piece of the alien evil guy starro, who Batman straight up adopted.

everyone loves this guy, he’s adorable, he’s one of the fill in robins, he mostly just vibes with everyone, starro lost visitation rights, he’s just a cutie.

Tim, and Jarro are the closest no one knows why but Jarro kinda just adores Tim.

Athanasia Al Ghul

Since she and the other Al Ghul kids are from alternate universes, I’m just going to throw them in.

Athanasia Al Ghul Is very similar to Damien except she has a great appreciation for music, she’s an extremely classical composer and composes whole ass ballads so proper that she releases the songs to choirs and singing schools.

Yeah she’s an assassin and yeah she’s kinda evil, but she’s not THAT evil. Red hood manages to punch some sense into her along with Dick and Damian, I’m putting her age as a a year younger than Damien and they manage to get through to her and convince her to not kill them all.

she’s actually from an alternate universe though I’m shoving her in my fanon/canon universe. She, Helena, and Damien are all dicks to each other seeing as they are the youngest of all of them, they gang up on Dick, Jason and Tim and beg them to listen to their stories and music and art.

she’s more of Bruce’s kid, since she literally does not leave his side and kinda adores the positive attention. She becomes well idk what her vigilante name is, but it’d be something incredibly distracting and punny.

Anita Jean

The first robin, technically.

she has 9 Red Robin’s, and loves them all.

had a murderous streak and kinda adores being scary.

Jason after the events of the “robins” run found her and took her in, yeah maybe they don’t know each other but they went through the same shit.

Her vigilante name is “Wren” and is basically Red Hood’s robin, she and penguin are sworn enemies because she loves birds so much and penguin is a dick to them.

Jason, and Anita/Jane kinda just vibe. Yeah we made mistakes we both kinda suck, but we are chill now. They became close siblings.

she kinda loathes Dick, for replacing her and all that but she let go over it after a screaming match.

and uh, that’s all I got!

yay

[chacharealsmoothwithme]

I'm gonna give u my black brothers hc because i have no one else to share them with:

-they both have a resting bitch face. pure dead stare.

-sarcastic little shits

-sirius face is completely "blank"while regulus has so many freckles

-they both have grey eyes and they don't like change with the light or anything,at best they become darker during thunderstorms

-sirius listens to glam rock and classic rock while regulus listens to indie and rap(not the cringe kind obv)

-sirius wears moon/star earings while reg has sun/star ones,the stars were the same pair they split it

-they don't like spending money but it's because they think they don't need anything (they feel like they're aren't enough to buy stuff for themselves) but they also feel guilty about that because they know they have the money

-sirius is nonbinary/genderfluid and just lives dressing badass,clothes don't have gender

-regulus is trans and feels euphoric wearing evans' shirts because he's like MANLY MAN!1! so yk, (evan is not that but shh)

-they both did ballet and fencing(muggle au)

-they were taught: piano,violin,transverse flute, they also took individual singing lessons and were part of the church's choir

-sirius learned on his own to play the guitar (classic and electric)

-and then he taught reg how to play it

-reg learned on his own how to play the bass and the drums

-they are spooked by the sea but find it fascinating

-sirius had to take his drivers license test twice bc there was a deer in the street and he thought it was prongs (when they told him he pretended it wasn't him but it actually was(moon's idea)) (sirius still thinks it wasn't him)

-regulus loves to drive Sirius' bike and every time he comes back from a ride he pretends to have scratched it by accident and sirius believes him every time

-i almost forgot,sirius has wavy hair while reg's is very curly

-[this is the second thing I'm adding sorry]

they speak: english,french,italian,japanese,german

they also know:latin, ancient greek,and old japanese,plus ancient runes

[montammil]

Forever Be Mine, part 5

Didn't proofread this one and might regret it lol. If I need to put any more warnings let me know!

Masterlist here!

CW: Attempted noncon, yandere/creepy whumper, physical violence, food

...

A week passed and Sawyer hadn't tried escaping again. He followed Rowan around the house obediently, barely even speaking a word to him. Rowan could tell he was still miserable, but at least he wasn't attempting to run away anymore. And that was an improvement, in Rowan's opinion.

They had eaten dinner earlier, a stew made with vegetables from Rowan's garden. Sawyer hadn't spoken the entire meal, only offering a few grunts in response to the conversation.

He wasn't interested in chatting, and Rowan figured he could play along with that for now. Sawyer seemed too depressed to do anything other than follow him around and stare at the ground.

It made Rowan sad seeing him like this, but he knew it was necessary for both of them to adjust to their new life together. As long as Sawyer stayed, eventually he would grow used to it.

And if he didn't... well, that would be unfortunate for him. Rowan wouldn't hesitate to punish him again.

He didn't want to have to resort to that, but he would if necessary. Sawyer needed to learn how things were going to be from now on. Rowan wasn't going to let anyone take him away ever again, no matter what he had to do to keep him safe and sound here with him.

"My love," Rowan spoke, placing his hand atop Sawyer's own resting on the table. "Talk to me. Please?"

Sawyer slowly looked up from his plate and met his gaze. "About what?"

He smiled fondly at him, stroking his knuckles with a thumb. "Anything at all. Whatever comes to mind." Sawyer avoided eye contact, fidgeting nervously with his fork in his other hand. "Tell me something I don't know about you." He doubted there was anything he didn't know about Sawyer by now, but he wanted to hear him speak anyway.

"I dunno," Sawyer mumbled. "What do you want to know?"

He hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of any questions he could ask. "How'd you get into singing?"

Sawyer didn't respond right away. He just stared blankly at him with no emotion in his eyes whatsoever. "I just always liked it," he mumbled eventually. "I started singing in school choirs and stuff like that when I was little. My friend then invited me to sing in his band when I was around seventeen." Sawyer looked back down at his food, poking it with his fork idly. "I guess it just kinda went from there."

Rowan squeezed his hand. "How were you like when you were younger?"

Though Sawyer hated meaningless questions about his personal life, Rowan was his only source of human interaction here in this hellscape.

So he relented. "I was intimidating when I was younger. Since I was always quiet and had a resting bitch face, most people avoided me. I learned how to act 'normal' in senior year."

He cocked his head curiously. "Why?"

Sawyer huffed in annoyance. "Because no one likes me unless I do."

Rowan frowned. "I like you."

"Yeah, 'cause you're nuts."

He scoffed. "Well thank you so much for that lovely compliment." He was surprised when Sawyer laughed, albeit quietly. But it was a laugh nonetheless, which brought a smile to Rowan's face as well. "For the record, I wasn't the most popular person growing up either. I was seen as quite the nerd in school. I always got straight A's and was much more timid than I am now."

Sawyer snorted. "I can't imagine that. Well, maybe the nerd part."

He couldn't help but laugh along with him. "I'm not always this talkative, trust me." He propped his head on a hand and stared at Sawyer, unable to look away from him even if he tried. "But it's different with you." Sawyer glanced up from his plate with narrowed eyes, but Rowan continued smiling warmly at him regardless of the glare being directed at him. "When we're together, I just feel so comfortable around you, like we were meant to be."

The shorter man's smile fell into a frown. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't feel that way."

"Well, give it time." Rowan finished the last spoonful of stew and placed the dish in the sink. "Once you realize we belong together, we can truly start our lives." Sawyer only grunted in response. "Don't worry, my love. I know you're a romantic at heart."

Rowan walked over to him and held out a hand, helping him out of his chair. He guided him upstairs and into the bedroom, where Sawyer silently crawled into bed while Rowan changed into his nightwear.

He snuggled up next to him, draping an arm over Sawyer's waist and burying his face into his neck. "You smell so nice," he murmured against his skin, planting kisses up and down his throat and shoulder blade. "And you're so soft." His hand roamed across his body, feeling the fabric of his shirt under his fingertips. "I'm so lucky to have you."

"Okay," Sawyer mumbled in annoyance as he tried wiggling out of his grip, "that's enough, you can stop."

Rowan ignored him and continued kissing his neck. He snaked his hand under Sawyer's shirt and caressed his belly with a thumb. Sawyer flinched away at the touch and made a small noise of discomfort.

Sawyer clenched his jaw. "I'm tired, Rowan."

He finally managed to pull himself free and rolled onto his side, facing away from him. Rowan scowled at being rejected, but didn't attempt to force the issue.

Instead, he pulled Sawyer close and spooned him from behind. He took the smaller man's hand in his own and intertwined their fingers together, bringing them to his lips and kissing every knuckle.

It was infuriating how affectionate Rowan was all the time. Sawyer had never met anyone who could be so clingy and touchy-feely twenty-four-seven without feeling drained after a few hours of it.

Just as Sawyer was drifting off, a loud boom of thunder made him jolt.

Rowan chuckled quietly behind him. "Are you scared of storms?" Sawyer didn't answer him and instead remained frozen in place. He felt Rowan lean over and press a kiss against the back of his head. "Don't worry. I'm here to protect you from any danger." Sawyer shivered at those words and could practically feel Rowan smirking behind him. "I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means fighting nature itself."

"I'm not afraid of storms," Sawyer grumbled defensively, "I just don't like sudden loud noises."

He snickered. "Sure."

Lightning flashed through the curtains followed by another clap of thunder. Sawyer shut his eyes tightly and clutched the pillow in his fists as tightly as possible.

Rowan coaxed Sawyer to roll back over to face him and brought his head to his chest. Sawyer listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart. He'd never admit it actually was pretty soothing.

"I'm not scared," Sawyer reiterated.

Rowan's hand rubbed his back in circles. "I know you aren't." Sawyer figured that was sarcasm. Another bolt of lightning filled the room in white light followed by another crack of thunder. He instinctively buried his face deeper into Rowan's chest and held onto his shirt tightly. "Shh, it's okay."

Next thing Sawyer knew, Rowan pulled the blanket to cover both of them, so the burst of white that filled the room was less overwhelming.

Sawyer's breathing slowed down after a couple minutes of being comforted by Rowan. The thunder and lightning outside wasn't bothering him anymore; it was only a mild inconvenience at this point.

...

Rowan was busy in the kitchen cooking lunch while Sawyer was washing up the dishes from their breakfast that morning. He finished drying the last plate and set it aside before grabbing a washcloth to wipe off the countertops. Rowan glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him.

"Thanks for your help today, my love," Rowan hummed.

Sawyer sighed, "yeah, whatever."

He was too tired to argue anymore with him. Anytime he would try, Rowan would silence him with a kiss or ignore him.

He felt like nothing more than an object to him these days, though he doubted there was any way to change that, so Sawyer just tried to remain patient and wait it out until he'd somehow manage to escape without a trace.

Rowan added spices to the pot and set the spoon aside. "Have you ever been fishing before?" Sawyer shrugged, setting down the washcloth and crossing his arms over his chest. "No? Well, I'll teach you if you want."

Sawyer watched Rowan drain the noodles from the water into the strainer before pouring them into two bowls. He poured marinara sauce on top and sprinkled parmesan cheese on each bowl.

"Here." Rowan placed one bowl down on the table and motioned for Sawyer to sit down beside him. He hesitated for a moment before obeying.

"It's ziti," Rowan explained, stirring his own pasta with a fork.

"I know what ziti is," Sawyer grunted and copied him by mixing his food too.

After lunch, Sawyer insisted he wanted to be alone and not follow Rowan around for once, which he reluctantly allowed him to have privacy in exchange for a kiss. The moment Rowan left the room, Sawyer rubbed at his mouth with disgust. He walked up to the bedroom and flopped on the bed face down. He laid there in silence for several minutes, unable to think clearly with all these thoughts racing through his mind.

It didn't take long for his exhaustion to catch up with him and lull him into sleep.

Sawyer wasn't sure how long he'd been out when he woke up to the feeling of lips on his neck and hands on his waist. Rowan was straddling him, pressing kisses across his neck and collarbone.

"I'm sorry for waking you, sweetheart," Rowan spoke softly. "You were making such adorable sounds while sleeping. I couldn't help myself." Sawyer tried sitting up, but Rowan forced him back down by pushing on his shoulders. "Stay," he growled low in his ear, sending shivers down Sawyer's spine. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Get off of me," Sawyer tried ordering.

Rowan tightened his grip on him until it became painful. "No," he replied firmly. "I'm tired of you pushing me away every time I try getting close." His hand found itself to the waistband of Sawyer's pants, dipping under the hem and exploring what was underneath. "Please just let me have this. I've been so patient with you."

Never had Rowan ever been this forceful. In a moment of panic, Sawyer punched him harder than he intended.

He only realized what he had done when he saw blood dripping from Rowan's nose as he released him in shock. He stumbled backwards off the bed, holding his bleeding nose. Sawyer watched with wide eyes.

"You're a fucking brat, you know that?" Rowan hissed through gritted teeth. Sawyer was frozen in fear, unable to move or speak in response.

Rowan yanked him off the bed and dragged him down the stairs. Sawyer clawed at his wrists futilely to no avail. Rowan seemed too angry to care. They stopped in front of the basement.

"No! No, stop, not there!" Sawyer had never heard his voice so raw with emotion before. "Please! I'm sorry!" He kicked and struggled wildly against Rowan's hold on him.

To his surprise, Rowan heard him out. He dragged him past to the basement, but Sawyer had no time to feel relief when he realized Rowan was leading him to the front door. Rowan pulled something from his pocket and opened it, revealing a key ring with at least two dozen keys on it. He unlocked the front door, and then proceeded to drag him through the snow and to the shed.

He shoved him inside and grabbed some rope off the wall, tying his ankles together along with both wrists behind his back. Sawyer writhed on the ground in agony as the ropes dug painfully into his flesh.

"Rowan," Sawyer whimpered weakly. "I'm sorry." He was already shivering from the cold, his thin pajamas providing little warmth against the bitter chill of winter outside. "I didn't mean to hit you."

"You should've thought about that before you did it," Rowan snapped. "But if you want space so badly, I'll do you a favor and give you it. You can stay out here for a night or two until you come to your senses." He marched back to the door and paused. "I'll come back with a blanket soon." Then slammed it shut behind him, leaving Sawyer alone in complete darkness.

It was freezing outside and Sawyer didn't even have a jacket on to keep him warm. He whimpered pitifully and tried rubbing his legs together to generate any semblance of heat at all, but all it did was rub the rope further into his skin.

All he could do now was wait helplessly until Rowan would return with something warmer. If he'd return at all.

Sawyer could hear the wind blowing against the shed's wooden walls, causing creaks and groans everywhere throughout the room. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Rowan left.

It could've been seconds or minutes or even hours by now. Every second felt like an eternity alone in the dark. Sawyer couldn't see anything around him, and all he could focus on was the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Eventually he began shivering uncontrollably as the cold air seeped through his skin, freezing every inch of his body. He curled up on his side, trying desperately to conserve body heat and prevent hypothermia from setting in too fast.

Time passed and Sawyer continued shivering in silence until he heard footsteps outside the shed.

Rowan swung open the door and carried a lantern inside, illuminating the room in dim orange light. Sawyer's eyes stung from the sudden brightness flooding his vision after being in the pitch black for so long.

"Hey, darling." Rowan's voice sounded apologetic as he walked over to where Sawyer was lying on the ground and knelt down beside him. "I brought you a blanket and some soup to warm you up." He set aside the soup and draped the large amber blanket around Sawyer's trembling frame, tucking it under him to provide maximum insulation against the frigid air around them. "Can you sit up?"

Sawyer nodded and struggled to lift himself upright against the wall. Rowan helped him into a sitting position and sat in front of him with the soup in his lap.

He noticed Rowan's face was bruised from where he punched him. He didn't feel guilty about it though. If anything, it made Sawyer happy that he'd at least had hurt him a little bit before he got thrown into this damn shed like an animal.

Rowan pulled out a spoon from his coat pocket and dipped it into the soup, holding it out for Sawyer to eat from.

Sawyer leaned forward and took a sip from the spoon. The broth was still hot, warming his insides instantly and helping to soothe his aching muscles and bones.

"Thank you," Sawyer mumbled as Rowan fed him another spoonful. "I'm sorry I hit you." He figured that's what Rowan wanted, an apology. "I just panicked. I wasn't thinking."

"Oh, precious, I know that." He pressed a kiss against his forehead and wiped away tears from his cheek with a thumb. "I shouldn't have done what I did either. You've been through a lot lately and I've just been so stressed from it all. I need to be more patient with you."

"Does that mean I can come out?" Sawyer asked hopefully.

"No." The shorter man's expression fell. "You still hit me, and that hurt me." Rowan pouted and cupped his cheeks. "You're going to stay here for a little while longer and think about what you did. Once I think you've learned your lesson, then we'll talk again." He pulled away and stood up from the floor, dusting off his pants. "I'll leave the lantern here for you. If you need anything else, just yell."

And with that, he left and closed the door behind him again, plunging Sawyer into darkness once more.

[quinacridonered]

Rings of Power Recap - Season 2, Episode 2

Durin Jr.: I miss fancy food.

Disa: At least we are not eating rocks.

Earth: *quakes*

Crop Illumination System: *dies*

Durin Jr.: We are now.

--

Elf Principal: Commander Galadriel?

Galadriel: Huh? 

Elf Principal: You wouldn’t be tripping balls in the middle of a military strategy meeting, would you, Commander?

Galadriel: I was but it won’t stop me from rendering an opinion. 

Elf Principal: What did you see?

Galadriel: Sauron eating Celebrimbor for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And a series of mid-day snacks.

Elf Principal: Nah. Eregion security is the stuff of legend.

Galadriel: So is Celebrimbor’s insecurity.

Elf Principal: Should have invited him to the Rings launch party.

--

Celebrimbor: Wash-resistant human?

Assistant: Still here.

Celebrimbor: Party invitations from Lindon?

Assistant: Not here.

Celebrimbor: Surely ’tis but an oversight, but just in case I’m going to try and invent the telegraph.

Murdered Messengers from Lindon: You go, dude.

--

Bulgarian Folk Choir: We are here to indicate mysterious Eastern Otherness.

Probably Not Saruman: Consider it indicated. Any news?

Resurrected Acolyte: No. Homeless Wizard kicked my ass.

Probably Not Saruman: Perhaps I should unresurrect you.

Minion: Permission to slaughter his hobbit friends?

Probably Not Saruman: That would diminish their hostage value, but give it a whirl.

--

Dwarven Mountain Communication Choir: LAAAAAAA!

Mountain: Nope.

--

Galadriel: Come with us to check on Celebrimbor.

Elrond: You’re interrupting my occupational therapy.

Galadriel: Talk to me, friend.

Elrond: Considering your other friends, it is a moniker I no longer desire.

Elf Elder: Channel your rage by exerting control.

Galadriel: That sounds kind of Sauronian.

Elrond: Just to be contrary, I’ll go.

Elf Elder: Good call, but promise me you’ll try yoga and meditation.

--

Homeless Wizard: I found a stick. Should my name be Stick Man?

Minions: Come with us and we’ll sort it out.

Homeless Wizard: *swears in Quenya*

Minions: Wheeee!

Hobbits: Wheeee!

Homeless Wizard: Field notes. Swearing in Quenya raises a hurricane. Will try to swear in Sindarin going forward.

--

Celebrimbor: Please leave.

Sauron: I have ring intel.

Celebrimbor: Please stay.

Sauron: Eh. I gather I’m not wanted.

Celebrimbor: If you tell me about the rings, I’ll give you dinner.

Sauron: They worked.

Celebrimbor: Was there a party?

Sauron: Yes, but they didn’t invite you because nobody likes you except me.

Celebrimbor: My next move is to get drunk on ancient booze.

Sauron: Or you could make some rings for humans.

Celebrimbor: Don’t tell me what to make.

Sauron: Guess we’ll do this the hard way.

Forge: *bursts into flames*

Divine Light: *illuminates all*

Angelic Choir: Do we have to?

Sauron: Sing, bitches.

Angelic Choir: LAAAAAAA!

Sauron: Have you considered accepting me as your personal saviour?

Celebrimbor: Holy shit, you clean up well.

Sauron: How ‘bout them rings?

Celebrimbor: Sorry, did you say something?

Sauron: *snaps fingers*

Celebrimbor: Ah! Yes! Rings! Circular objects made of metal! 

Sauron: I better tone it down if I want his brain to work.

--

Letter to Dwarves: Lord Celebrimbor requests your presence.

Murdered Messengers from Lindon: Funny how that one went through.

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

Recap for Season 2, Episode 1

[moralesmilesanhour]

mad props! 04

summary: in the week leading up to the show, your grades begin to slip. whatever will you do... word count: 1820 a/n: hiii i rlly enjoyed writing this chapter bc some of the stuff in here has definitely happened to me lmao. if you feel up to it, reblog and tell me what your favorite song from any musical is in the tags! songs mentioned: 'Chip On My Shoulder' - Legally Blonde the Musical (Original Broadway Cast Recording) prev next

“Max, you’re a little flat, hun.”

The choir director pulled her shawl tightly around her as Max–the chosen casting for Emmett Forrest–ran through some of his sung lines for ‘Chip On My Shoulder’. 

The brown-skinned, dark-haired boy was an excellent actor; he breathed life into the words on the script and delivered them with all the earnestness and humor required to play Emmett. Hell, he even improvised his own jokes.

But he couldn’t hold a note to save his life. 

For some lines, Max could get away with half-singing, half-talking, but he was practically tone-deaf once the song got more involved. The choir director–Ms. Johnson–had to be called in to help get him somewhere that was at least within the ballpark of the correct pitch. His high notes remained painful to all present in the room, no matter what she did.

You huffed from your spot on the fake park bench, resisting the urge to scratch your scalp beneath the itchy wig. Everyone had heard the exact melody on the piano by now. Hear it, sing it. Like Spanish vocabulary, you couldn’t comprehend how people got that sort of thing wrong.

Harmonizing with Max went about as expected; you lost your place several times because of the distracting dissonance between your voice and his, like hearing a parrot and an eagle squawk at the same time.

Regardless, it was too late to recast Max now. He had a leading role with too many songs and lines to memorize. 

“Alright, take five!” the director yelled with a clap of her hands. 

A collective sigh could be heard as students dispersed for their well-earned water and bathroom breaks, the tension in the air dissipating. You stepped carefully off of the stage, when you heard a snicker in your direction.

Miles was in the middle of painting a cardboard sorority building in an obnoxious shade of hot pink, shaded with strokes of fuchsia and cyan that managed to work together somehow. You frowned at the fact that you couldn’t say anything bad about it.

The boy struggled to hold back a laugh, looking up as you stood over him with crossed arms.

“Something funny?”

Miles stood to meet your eyes, carelessly wiping bits of paint onto his pants.

“That frumpy-ass 613 wig you got on, for one,” he replied with a teasing grin. “Are you gonna wear that for the actual show?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, for your information, I’m not. This is a placeholder wig,” you ripped it off of your head for emphasis. “Why are you even here, anyway? Don’t you got posters to make?”

In actuality, you knew about the art club lending some of its members to paint sets for the show. But you wanted to make sure Miles knew he was unwelcome.

“Just doin’ what I do best,” he shrugged. “You should be grateful for my sacrifice.”

You snorted, “What ‘sacrifice’?”

Miles jabbed his thumb behind him towards the left side of the stage, where Max was going over his lines. “I gotta listen to that nigga sing for over an hour. I’m sacrificing my time and my ears.”

Despite yourself, you laughed brightly at the comment, causing a more genuine smile to spread across Miles’ face. You looked pretty when you laughed.

“Oh my god, he sucks, right? Spent the whole damn song looking for the note.”

“Too late to replace him now, though. Show’s in two weeks.”

You nodded.

There was a brief pause before Miles asked, “So what made you sign up for theater? I was kinda surprised to see you on a stage.”

You gave him a wary look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he raised both hands in defense, “You just seemed like more of the quiet type, that’s all.”

I signed up to avoid you, you thought, but didn’t say aloud; That would’ve given him the satisfaction of knowing that you thought about him that much.

Instead, you answered, “I used to do theater at my old school. Got the lead part most of the time, if you can believe it.”

There was an arrogance in your voice as you said that last bit that soured Miles’ expression. 

“I believe you, no need to convince me,” he said flatly. “Legally Blonde’s an interesting choice, though.”

You shrugged, “The part really lets me show my voice off, so...”

“Showin’ off,” Miles muttered beneath his breath, “Sounds like you.”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could start to argue, his eyes went wide, like he’d just heard a noise that no one else could hear.

“It was really nice talking to you, Y/N, but I gotta go,” he said, spinning on his heel and bolting towards the auditorium door. “Watch my stuff for me!”

Your jaw dropped in offense. Was he allowed to just bail on a club activity like that? And with the gall to ask you to watch his things for him. You totally did, though.

Once you got home, your feet throbbed and your muscles ached from all of the choreography. You were just barely out of your school uniform when you decided to lie down for a quick nap. Or what you thought was a ‘quick nap’.

The blaring of your alarm made your heart jump as your eyes flew open, half of your face damp with drool. The early morning washed over your room in a pale blue shade, and the sight would’ve relaxed you if not for the sudden realization that you weren’t in your pajamas.

You shot up, wiping the side of your face with your sleeve. Your Spanish and AP Physics notebooks were still strewn across your bed, along with several worksheets that had remained blank. Unfinished.

…Oh no.

Your heart was practically in your throat when you explained to Mr. Sanchez why you didn’t have any homework for him to collect. 

The man noticed your glassy eyes, and held up a reassuring hand in the middle of your frantic explanation.

“That’s fine, it happens,” he said gently, “Just bring in the missing work tomorrow, and it’ll only be ten points off. Don’t make it a habit.”

He adjusted his glasses, and returned to grading the pile of worksheets on his desk as you trudged back to your desk, a pit forming in your stomach over those precious ten points.

“You good?” Miles asked as you sat down, concern coloring his features. He ran a finger over a small band-aid on his right temple. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

You buried your face in your arms on the desk.

“Nunya.”

He sighed, “I dunno why I even asked.”

Unfortunately for both you and Mr. Sanchez, missing assignments did, in fact, become a habit. 

You began to spend more time lingering in the auditorium after everyone had left, practicing your line delivery. Adding little details, like extra hair flips or twirls. The spirit of Elle Woods had practically taken over your body.

You got home later and later into the evening, sometimes flopping down onto your bed and falling asleep before your head could even hit the pillow. This new ‘habit’ had you scribbling down vocab words and formulas in a frenzy, balancing your notebook on your lap on the bumpy bus ride to school. The flashcards that you had made for Mr. Sanchez’s class were now sitting untouched at the bottom of your bag.

By Friday, it landed you in front of his desk for office hours after you received your very first ‘F’. 

“As you’ve probably noticed, Y/N, your grades have fallen a significant amount in a very short period of time, and I’m a little concerned,” Sanchez slid your weekly grade report towards you and placed his finger on your Spanish grade. “What’s going on? This is very unusual for a student like you.”

Your sweaty fingers clutched the sides of your seat as you stared down at the report. How did you let it get this bad? Elle Woods would never.

“I-I just…”

You shook your head. “I’ve just been busy with extracurriculars and stuff, so assignments slip my mind sometimes.”

“You’re having trouble balancing them with your schoolwork?”

“Yeah, basically,” you leaned forward, looking desperate. “Can I still re-take that quiz? I didn’t really get to study, and–”

“Oh! That’s actually what I called you in for, one second.”

Sanchez rose from his seat, and made his way over to the door.

“You know about our Study Buddy system, yes?”

You nodded slowly, skeptically. “Am I getting a ‘Study Buddy’?”

“Pre-cisely. Come in!”

He opened the door, and you almost groaned audibly at the lanky figure that appeared at the entrance.

Miles entered with a friendly smile on his face that dropped the second his eyes landed on you.

“Oh. You.”

The Spanish teacher sat back down and gestured towards him.

“Miles here is both a native speaker and beyond proficient in this class. He was so kind as to sign up for the program, so I thought it might be nice to pair him up with someone in the same period.”

Shocked into silence, you were unable to say anything other than a quiet “Okay” as you stared blankly in front of you.

Study buddies. With the guy who didn’t even study. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

“He’ll be giving up a bit of his lunch time to tutor you in my classroom. I’d also highly recommend you two study with each other after school as well, if you can make the time. Sound good?”

“Yes,” you both said in miserable unison. 

“Well, that’s all,” Sanchez waved his hand. “You’re both dismissed. Have a lovely weekend!”

“You too!” you smiled tightly as you got up and made a beeline for the door, nearly bumping into Miles as you did so. 

Your weekend would be anything but ‘lovely’.

You fixed Miles with a glare as soon as you got out into the hallway.

“I’m not giving up my lunch period for you,” you yell-whispered. “I hope you know that.”

He took a step towards you and fired back, “Neither of us have a choice, your highness. If we’re not both up here during lunch, I get in trouble, and you gotta take the L and fail this class.”

“I’d rather fail, then. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Oh?” he laughed mirthlessly. “You were in tears over a damn ‘89’. Makes no difference to me, but I think you do give a fuck.”

You opened your mouth to shoot back a rebuttal, then closed it. Miles raised an eyebrow.

“I’m lying?”

“...No.”

Miles leaned forward until he was only inches away from your face. “Then cooperate. Or we both lose.”

You sighed in defeat, “Fine.”

He nodded curtly, then left to go grab his things from his locker.

In a forced attempt at courtesy, you called out towards his back, “See you next week–”

“Whatever!”

taglist (comment to be added!): @vhstown @alaoraangelix @shuna-boin