#I loved the added bit with the paper planes though

[redaliveviolation]

Tokito Muichiro they could never make me hate you

[good-beanswrites]

hii!! can we get some platonic fuuta amane interactions please? thabks !!!

Ahh yes, thank you so much for the request! I love them so much ;--; They've been making my brain go brrrr lately with T3 possibilities, though I decided to stay away from the drama for now. Here something sweet after T1 verdicts but before the attacks -- they're just hanging out :3

Yuno smiled down at Amane, finding her hunched over a table of craft supplies with Fuuta. The guilty verdict had hit them hard, so it was good to see them in better spirits. She tried to peer over her shoulder to see what they were working on. “Aw, what are you two up to?”

Amane returned her smile. “Fuuta is teaching me to misbehave.”

His face twitched in horror. “Oi, you can’t just go around saying that!” He looked frantically at Yuno. “We’re just folding paper planes.”

Amane lifted her chin. “You said in middle school, you made them to throw in class.”

“I said my friends made them to throw in class. And it’s not like I’m telling you to throw them. I was just making them because there’s nothing better to do in this damned place. You were the one that said it looked fun and sat down to annoy me!”

Fuuta huffed at the accusation as Yuno walked away, laughing. He returned to the design he was folding. He hadn’t been giving an explicit step-by-step for each, but Amane was keeping up just fine. They each had a small pile of various plane designs they were adding to. 

Running a finger along a new crease, he gave Amane a sideways look. “Though, you could stand to misbehave a little bit.”

“I did.” She reached forward to mimic the fold on her own plane. “That is why I’m here.”

“Eh? I don’t mean you should commit crimes!” He scowled. “I’m talking about normal kid stuff, nothing against the law. Like staying out too late, driving your teacher crazy, funny vandalism–”

“--Vandalism is against the law.”

“Oh come on, it’s harmless! Don’t even try to argue that a little graffiti is comparable to what got you here.” He rolled his eyes. “So? What about that other stuff?”

She shook her head. With neither disappointment nor pride, she said, “I never left my home at night. And my teachers were far too strict.” 

“Aw, it’s the strict ones that are the most fun to prank!” He pointed to Amane, adopting the most persuasive voice he could manage. “You gotta do some of these things, or you’ll turn out with a stick up your ass. Like Kotoko, or Mikoto. Or a weirdo like Kazui and Mahiru. Shidou’s more or less normal, and he’s the type of guy to break some rules now and then.”

“And you?” She raised her eyebrows at him, feigning innocence. “I take it you turned out perfectly because you misbehaved as a child?”

“Hey, I never said I was a shining role model or anything. But I mean it. If you stay like this, you’ll grow up to be a boring loser, another cog in the wheel.”

“It is an honor to be a part of something bigger than yourself, to find belonging, and purpose.”

“Tch, don’t be such a pain!”

“I wasn’t.”

“You know that’s not what I was talking about!”

“What were you talking about, then?” She gave him the same expression as before, and wondered if could hide her genuine confusion. 

“Don’t play dumb. I know working in a group is a good thing, but you don’t want to kill yourself for leaders that don’t give a shit about you. That’s a major issue in this country, you know? In government, and corporations, and all that. That’s not belonging, that’s just exploitation.”

Amane stayed silent.

Oblivious to the emotions flashing across her lowered eyes, he nudged her in annoyance. “And the best way to break from that is to loosen up a bit. So have a little fun now and then, jeez!”

She picked her creation off the table. She turned it over in her hands. It had come out perfectly sharp and clean. “I’m having fun now.”

Fuuta, preparing to argue with whatever she said, blinked. “O-oh.” 

“At school, my favorite activities included choir practice and the arts. It has been difficult to sing here without accompaniment, so I am grateful to have the opportunity for crafts.” She looked at him earnestly. “Despite your past of disobedience,” she smirked, “I always enjoy your company.”

His expression twisted up, but he couldn’t hide the reddening of his ears. “What do I care if a brat like you likes my company?”

She smiled. “I’m not a brat. As established, I am very well-behaved.”

“That’s even worse!”

“Tell me about this plane, Fuuta.”

After sufficiently rolling his eyes and sighing, he agreed. He started explaining what made these planes different from the last: how they compared on speed, accuracy, and length of flight. It didn’t really matter if they were just going to toss them around here or the panopticon later, he thought it would be helpful to teach her anyway. Maybe if she ever was inclined, she’d remember which ones were best for pinpointing a teacher’s back, or a warden’s…

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

“A Far Fall From The Heights Of Heaven” A Dio Brando x Self Insert Fanfic (PART 4)

Another month had passed. It was now the holiday season, and I was missing my sister Denise. Maybe, MAYBE even my mom. A little. Dio sat at the desk, writing with a fountain pen in the dark. I would've been concerned for his eyesight, but... well, vampires see even better in the dark. I peaked over his shoulder, attempting to read his handwriting. He stopped writing and handed me the paper, noting that I was struggling to read.

"To the family of my beloved Rose..." I read his words out loud, then paused.

"Too formal?" Dio asked earnestly.

I giggled. "Just the right amount. I mean you did kidnap me. They probably think I'm dead at this point. That in itself calls for some formality."

Dio chuckled, taking the paper back from me and signing it with his overly dramatic signature. "They'll be pleased to know you're alive. Your sister.... Denise. Does she live at a separate address? Should i make another copy?"

"No, unless her plans changed, her and her husband are staying at my mom's house in the guest bedroom for the first two years of their marriage while they shop for homes and get more secure jobs. One letter to my mom's house will do." I explained.

Lord Dio nodded, then stood up, slipping the letter in an envelope. He sealed it with a carnelian signet ring he often wore on his right index finger.

"Why are you writing to my family though? Is it just to let them know I'm ok? Or... about the baby?"

Dio blushed a bit, a rare sight, but becoming less rare since I'd told him he was going to be a father. "We are visiting them. I've made arrangements. Your family does celebrate the Yuletide season?"

My eyes must've lit up at the mention of visiting them because he leaned down and tilted my chin up, inspecting my expression with amusement. "They go all out for Christmas. My mom's a christian, so thats kind of her favorite holiday." I added. "My sister Denise is very much into the presents more than the religious meaning, so we should bring her something nice! And my grandparents come over and aunts and uncles...."

Dio frowned suddenly. "That's a lot of relatives you have. What a scene it must be."

I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. I knew he hadn't experienced that growing up, at least not with his blood-relatives. I was glad I could be spending this time of the year with him. Maybe my family could show him that kind of Yule spirit that he'd never had in his childhood.

"They'll love you." I assured him.

"They'd better." He said in a snarky tone, regaining his confident demeanor. "Or your mom wont be invited over to visit her grandchildren."

I laughed nervously, noticing that gleeful look in his eyes. I prayed that all my lucky stars would keep this visit from being a catastrophy.

...............................................................................................................

The flight to Los Angeles was actually quite relaxing. I wasn't far enough into my pregnancy that flying was a problem. Dio had a private jet because public transport isn't suitable for vampires, apparently. He didn't fly it. THANK GOD. He isn't the best with electronics, being from Victorian era England, and having spent so much time in a coffin under the sea. I had taught him how to take a selfie on his phone. He was a fast learner, but not "fly a private plane" kind of fast.

We landed several times before the break of dawn and stayed at expensive hotels through the days, to avoid sunlight.

Finally we landed in Los Angeles. An SUV with tinted windows showed up at the private landing place of Dio's jet.

"You have connections in Los Angeles?" I whispered.

Dio Brando grinned. "I have connections everywhere. Now, lets get to your parents before the Christmas Eve party starts."

I yawned and slept through most of the car ride. I woke up when the car pulled in front of my mom's house in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Los Angeles, far enough from the hustle of hollywood or the stench of downtown LA.

I was wearing a green velvet dress with lots of chips of crystals on the edge of the neckline. It was expensive (vivienne westwood), and went fabulously with Dio's gold leather 1980s style jacket and fitted shirt and pants. I knew my mom would not approve of either of our outfits. I didn't care.

We strolled up to the tall front door with the beautiful transom window above it. The whole house was decorated in lights. Dio rang the doorbell, then stood back, wrapping his arm around me (for reassurance? Who knows...)

Several moments passed, then my mom opened the door. She was a tall woman, brunette, with a severe expression on her square face that got more sever upon seeing Dio and I.

"I assume you're the one who found my daughter in Egypt?" She said skeptically.

Dio nodded. "Yes, Madam." He said in the least respectful tone possible.

"So you've come to return her? Well.... I guess that's fine. Come in." She said, pursing her lips and eyeing my dress with a look of distain. I understood, though. No one likes to their missing daughter showing up in a revealing designer dress to a conservative celebration of the birth of Jesus with a guy dressed like David Bowie on his glass spider tour ready to perform.

As we walked in, Dio muttered words only audible to me. "I'm not returning anything."

I smiled, knowing this would come up later at the dinner table. I felt the eyes of all my relatives on me. My aunts, uncles, grandparents, and sister. They looked like they'd seen a ghost. I wasn't sure if I should say something. I ended up just waving meekly, and introduced Dio. "This is my husband, Dio. Dio, this is Aunt Jenna, Uncle Juan, My grandma, my grandpa, Denise, and her husband Todd."

"YOUR HUSBAND?!!!" Denise blurted out.

Dio took a seat, ignoring the shock of everyone and motioning for me to sit in his lap. I felt overwhelmed by all the attention, so I took him up on that offer, sitting on his lap and feeling a bit better now that his arms were around me. "You didn't mention the marriage in the letter, did you?" I whispered in his ear.

Dio shook his head. "I wanted to share the happy news in person. Letters are too impersonal."

I sighed. I should've expected that from Lord Dio. He loved a personal touch. Whether seeking revenge or announcing his bride, that seemed like a theme for him.

"Married, huh?" My mom scoffed. "You actually married my youngest daughter? Well, I suppose there was bound to be one man... unique enough to appreciate her." She made it very clear that "unique" was a replacement for a less gentle word. Yup. Thats my mom. She manages to be both protective over me and yet cant understand what anyone would possibly see in me for marriage. My eye began twitching with irritation and anxiety.

"She's not hard to appreciate, if you have enough brain cells... that is." Dio retorted. "Only an idiot would be blind to my Rose's beauty."

My sister snickered. My mom inhaled sharply and crossed her arms, clearly offended but not vocal enough to come up with a reply.

My uncle Todd spoke up. "Well, what's your job? Do you think you can afford to support our Rose?"

I started panicking. Money? Not a problem. Dio's occupation? BIG FUCKING PROBLEM. Being a cult leader doesn't really check the boxes for families like mine. I wracked my brain for alternative or vague enough answers that sounded legitimate. But Dio was faster.

"I'm the CEO of an organization that is highly classified in its nature. While I can't tell you the details of my job, I can say that I easily can afford to support Rose financially." Lord Dio said cooly.

"And you're from Egypt?" Aunt Jenna asked, raising a drawn-on brow.

"England, actually. London to be exact." Dio Brando said. "Is there any wine at this party?"

Denise rushed to the kitchen and came back with some expensive french wine and two glasses. She seemed the most receptive to Dio's presence. "Here you go!" She said, handing the one glass to Dio and the other to--Oh. Me.

"Uh, actually I don't drink." I said carefully.

"Huh." Denise said, slowly pulling the glass away. After a deafening few minutes of silence, Dio had finished his wine, and I was getting tired of being the center of attention.

Then Denise spoke. "So when's the due date?" 'And thats our cue' I thought, muscles tightening with stress. "Yeah.... uh, I was going to tell you guys at present opening time, but..."

My mom, catching on to the subject turned a shade of ashen grey that always was the precursor to her passing out.

"...I'm having a baby. It'll be in late fall, according to the doctors (thats the due date). Dio is the father, and we are both really excited to be parents!" I said, mustering enthusiasm in hopes it would be reciprocated. My mom passed out, but after everyone made sure she was alright I got lots of congratulations from the rest of my family.

I beamed, glad that at least this baby would be welcomed into my chaotic family. I had dreaded the thought of having to explain to my children how their grandparents, aunts, and uncles didn't want anything to do with them. This was a relief.

The rest of the night was filled with festivities. We sang carols (some of the older British ones Dio was excited to find familiar, and we feasted on delicious cranberry bread, apple cider, and roasted mushrooms by candlelight. Everyone seemed to fall in place, being supportive of our relationship (Except my mom who was resting in the master bedroom). I gave Denise a beautiful pair of designer sandals from Egypt, and everyone agrees they were definitely her style. I got lots of presents, and I loved watching Dio's expression as he saw my excitement when playing (and winning with his help) the traditional Yule games. After the games I fell asleep on the couch, cuddled in a blanket with my head in Dio's lap. I would remember this night forever.

TYSM FOR READING!!!!!

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[dandelioncore]

Tell us about your worldbuilding!

YES IM SO HAPPY THANK YOU

ok so here is the map; i drew it over 4 sheets of a4 paper and then scanned it into the computer, which is why some of the coastlines don't join up so just ignore that lmao

this is the extent of the known World, but the world itself is infinitely large. if you keep sailing, so will never find an edge or loop back around. theres a lot of magic, strange creatures and general strangeness!

I Am Going To Ramble a bit, so ive added a readmore - this is a world ive been working on for many months and incorporates a lot of previous work done for other worlds, I have a lot to say!

the World itself is part of the Duo of 'creator diety' equivalents; Known and Unknown. the unknown, also referred to as darkness, is space. Space came first. it the other infinite plane and contains all possibilities, including the existence of a pysical/material reality, hence World must exist, and therefore it does.

the sun and moon were created by World and Space respectively as gifts to each other, and from Sun and Moon can Life, Death, the Stars and Magic.

Light is a very important concept, as it represents the discovery of all things. Stars and Magic are two sides of the same coin - both are light and energy from the Sun being reflected and focused by the Moon. Magic is light cast onto World, and is all around, most notably in the Aurora that occurs each winter solstice. The Stars are light cast upon Space, and are venerated as patrons of specific types of concentrated magic that can be studied and called upon by wizards.

As World is infinite, and yet the sun and moon orbit it, it does not make geometric sense. don't worry about it lol. as a result though, the seasons and day-lengths can't work like they do on a round planet. I've gotten around this by making the seasons be tied to four Great Beasts - some of the first Life that came into being or some of the first Life to leave it. Spring is a giant serpentine dragon that sleeps tangled in the mangroves of the reef and is named Ciphene. Summer is a giant Lizard that lives in the mountains of Yrai and is named Zal-Zac. Autumn is a collection of spirits flying from World to Space, or perhaps to the fursts points of World, or perhaps somewhere else entirely, referred to as the Idbrinna. Winter is a giant polarbear/orca hybrid looking creature called Mizdan, who for the rest of the year lurks in the ice sheets far west. the days are longer in summer because when the rains of spring flood Zal-Zac's burrow, the sun lingers to help him warm up enough to dig a new one. the nights are longer is winter because the Moon loves the reflection of the snow on World. each day across the world is the same length as any other, and each solstice is 24hr day or night.

i'm going to include details of the nations/landmasses and their people in a reblog so this doesn't get any longer!

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 185. brb x oc

a/n: while i had a very...strange and off day, daddy is home and smut is coming. (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!! they make my nights they really do<3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: NONE ONLY CUTENESS

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/

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-

Could he get more anxious? Well,his leg was bouncing vigorously, he was ready to land and go back to Bea. God he missed her.

He was looking out the plane window with his eyes locked on the ground below, it was still far away from Cali but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see her, to see all of them, soon. He hadn’t told her about his return - which honestly felt a bit…wrong because Beatrice would want to know that

He can't help but replay the scenario in his mind—surprising Beatrice, seeing the joy on her face, and embracing her in a tight, long-awaited hug. It's a beautiful image that fills him with warmth and longing, but it's also accompanied by a tinge of worry.

What if she had plans? What if she was busy? What if his unexpected return disrupts her routine or causes inconvenience? He knows he should have communicated his plans, but he couldn't resist the desire to see her face light up with surprise. 

Not to mention Nikki, who was now very talkative.

“Four words.”

“Hm,what?’

His uncle didn’t look up from the crosswords he was completing, “Four words, a type of Italian pasta.” Maverick taps his pen against the folded paper with his lips pursed, “Bea is italian and you married her, so,help me here.”

Rooster blinks at him, incredulous, “...Mav, there’s more than one type of italian pasta.”

“Well this one only has four words. It’s not that hard.”

Rooster looks from Maverick to the window, then leans back with a sigh, throwing his hands up and shaking his head, “Um…” he shrugs, “Four words, Italian pasta," Rooster mutters to himself, trying to recall the various types of pasta he's encountered. He taps his fingers lightly against the armrest as he mulls over the possibilities.

"Lasagna, spaghetti, fettuccine..." Rooster trails off, listing some of the more well-known pasta types. None of them fit the four-word criteria. Then his brain snaps into action, “Ziti?”

“Ziti?”

“Yeah,it’s like these little tubes, you can bake them and such.” he shrugs, “I don’t know, is that the answer?”

“Well,” Maverick writes it down, “It fits, so I think it’s right. Not bad Romeo.” he teases the other pilot with a small smirk, crossing one ankle over the other as he continues the puzzle,”You should have one of these by you, they are very relaxing.”

Rooster grumbled, placing his chin on his hand as he looks out the window, “I’m fine.” he wasn’t, he wanted to see Beatrice and he was getting a bit snippy. Which made no sense, he couldn’t speed up a flight like this, “I don’t have patience for that,Bea would love it though.”

As Rooster looks out the window, his mind continues to drift back to Beatrice and his eagerness to see her. The puzzle and the conversation with Maverick provide a brief distraction, but his longing for home and his worry about surprising Beatrice without informing her beforehand still linger in the back of his mind.

"Mav, do you think surprising Bea like this was a good idea?" Rooster asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I shouldn’t add that type of stress when she’s pregnant.."

“You know she’d love it no matter what.”

“Yeah,but-”

“Brad,look,” Maverick gestures the pen towards him,”You two are crazy for each other, do you honestly think Beatrice would hate seeing you like that? We both know how she is, she’s going to be over the moon.”

Which was true, so would Rooster. The younger pilot sighed, flopping back on his seat and sliding just a bit so his shoulders were almost touching the arm rests. He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them, then fixes his posture only to lean back against the chair. Maverick stops writing to look at nothing completely unimpressed, “Rooster.”

“What?”

“You are moving.” he says, “A lot. Jesus, you are going to see her,calm down.”

Maybe it was because he almost–well, almost…didn’t come back because of Raptor and Jaws. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to go home right away, he’d need to talk to Cyclone and tell him everything that happened in detail. And boy,does Evelyn’s dad love details. “I know, I’m just fidgety.”

“Hey,casanova, can you calm down over there?” Nat’s voice calls from behind him and he tilts his head back to look at her. She is lifting one side of her sleeping mask, glaring at him, “I can’t rest my feet on your seat if you move so much.”

Rooster’s brows furrowed, “You can’t do that.” and like an annoying little sister, she did press her soles against the fabric of his seat and he could feel the pressure as she stretched her legs, “Hey.”

“Nope, sleeping,” she slaps the mask back over her eyes and plopped her earphones in, giving Rooster a little grin before falling asleep. He glared at her much like she did, then rolled his eyes going back down with his arms crossed over his chest and huffed in annoyance, rolling the wedding band on his finger over and over.

Fuck he wanted to fix that nick on it. It was small but it bothered him that he managed to somehow bruise the metal like that. He pulls it off his finger to have a better look. 

As Rooster looks at his wedding band, he can't help but trace his fingers over the small nick on the metal. He even prods with his nail for a bit to check how deep it actually went. He knew that Bea, who was just an angel, wouldn’t worry about that but he was too bothered about it.

Maybe after their date he could fix it.

“A small flat rubber disc used in games.” Maverick breaks his line of thought and Rooster arches his brow before flicking his eyes towards his uncle, “Four words too.”

“Puck.” Rooster says as he turns the wedding ring in his fingers, ‘Those are easy ones Mav.”

Maverick chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah,yeah…." He writes it down in the crossword puzzle, his pen gliding across the paper effortlessly. "Some of these are pretty straightforward."

“Some?”

“Hey,come on,I need to start somewhere.”

Rooster leans back in his seat, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues to examine his wedding band. The nick on the metal still bothers him, but he reminds himself that it's just a small imperfection. It’ll be fixed.

He sits back on the seat and sighs, looking out the window one more time and this time he could see it. He could see the horizon turning into something he was familiar with. They were finally going back, “Finally.”

“Told you it’d be fine.”

He ignored Mav’s prodding comment and closed his eyes with a pleased little smile, thinking that maybe he could take a quick nap before they got there. Bradley ended up falling asleep for a few seconds, only waking up minutes before the plane landed.

He blinked himself awake, he could hear the plane’s tires touching the ground as they finally got back to San Diego.

As the plane touches down and comes to a halt, Rooster gathers his belongings and waits for the opportunity to disembark. Maverick does the same, although he’s less anxious than Rooster so he does take his time much for his nephew’s absolute annoyance, but the to manage to walk down the hallway to the door. The moment the cabin door opens, he steps out, his pace quickening as he navigates through the airport towards the arrival gates.

He inhales the warm air with his eyes closed, “Fuck I missed this weather.” he mutters to himself, quickly pulling out his phone to call Bea.

Maverick stands next to him with his brows furrowed, “Are you calling her? I thought you’d surprise her?”

“I am,I just wanna know if she’s home-hi baby!”

“Roos? Hi! What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting your call.” he hears something moving in the back, followed by a wet noise “Ah!Shit, got paint on my overalls…oh well!It’s fine!Hi! Are you good?”

“Oh gorgeous,I’m great.” he wonders if she can hear the noise from the airport, so he speeds his step hoping no voice would be loud enough for her to discover where he’s at, “I was justmissing you like crazy and couldn't wait to hear your voice."

Beatrice giggles on the other end of the line, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I missed you too, Roos. It feels like forever since you left. Are you safe though? How’s everything there?”

Rooster glances around, looking for signs pointing to the exit and the arrival gates. "Oh yeah we are all good. Everything is nice–” he ends up speeding his step because he could hear another flight being announced and she couldn’t know. “And safe.Anyway, what are you doing? Painting the twins’ bedroom?”

“Yep! I decided to do so since I’m free right now.”

“Sounds good gorgeous.” he looks back at Mav when he points to his own car, Rooster turning on his heel to meet him there, “And you are staying home the whole day then? Resting?” she shouldn’t be suspicious.

But her pause was almost certainty that she was.

“...yeah!I’m gonna stay home. I already went grocery shopping yesterday and to the bank and yeah” another pause, “Why? Are you worried about me? Don’t be,I’m doing great!”

“Baby I know, you are always great.” he smiles, his cheeks flushing and he turns his back to Maverick as he whispers back to her, “And we both know what I mean about that.”

“Bradley Nicholas! Don’t start when you are so far away.”

“What am I starting?”

“You know what.”

He chuckled softly, looking back at Maverick who tapped his watch quickly, “Listen gorgeous, I gotta go right now but…talk to you soon okay?”

“Aw…okay. Stay safe!”

“ I will baby.”

“Love you!”

“Love you too. Bye.” he quickly finishes the call and opens the car’s door to hop inside just as his uncle did. “She has no idea Mav.” he says as he latches the seatbelt on, “Go ahead.”

-

He thanks Maverick quietly when he parks a few feet away from the door and the cameras around the house. He has to be careful so he doesn’t make a lot of noise, although he knows Eleanor’s face would be at the front door with him being silent or not. 

He pulls the sunglasses up to his hairline and looks at the windows to see if he could find Beatrice anywhere. The twins’ bedroom was a bit farther from it but he was sure he could see her there if she was walking around, luckily she wasn’t. He slowly pulled out his keys from his back pocket, biting his lip at the slightest jingle of keys.

Bradley tried to see by the small windows that surrounded the door, the white dog was nowhere in sight…but he could see movement in the kitchen, followed by some music. Perfect, he thought as soon as he slid the key into the lock, carefully turning it and grabbing onto the handle to open the door.

It took him a second to identify the song, but Whitney Houston’s voice was hard to miss.

There's a boy I know, he's the one I dream of

Looks into my eyes, takes me to the clouds above, mmm-hmm

Oh, I lose control, can't seem to get enough, uh-huh

When I wake from dreaming, tell me, is it really love?

The best part? He could hear Bea singing along. He gently drops his bag to the floor, checking the living room thinking he’d see the dogs but he was glad to know they were either with her or outside “Perfect.” he tip toes towards the kitchen, running his hand on the wall for support before stopping when he sees a shadow coming closer.

Although this shadow was small.

Too small.

His brows furrowed in confusion until he saw the light golden brown tresses of Nicole peeking from beyond the door frame. She was holding onto it,carefully stepping forward with her face so focused for a little baby she didn’t even see him.

Rooster’s eyes widened and he stood still like a statue…because Nicole was walking.

He knew from Bea that their daughter was moving more, he knew that she was gaining strength but she didn’t tell him she was walking!

Rooster's heart skips a beat as he watches Nicole take her tentative steps, her tiny hands gripping onto the door frame for support. His eyes fill with awe and pride as he witnesses this milestone moment in his daughter's life. He can hardly believe it—Nicole, their precious baby girl, is walking.

And he is seeing it!

He stands frozen, his breath caught in his throat, not wanting to interrupt or startle Nicole. His eyes well up with tears of joy as he watches her small legs carrying her forward with determination. It's a sight he never thought he'd see in person, and it fills him with overwhelming gratitude.

Rooster glances towards the kitchen, where Beatrice continues to sing along to the music, unaware of what's happening just a few steps away. H

With his heart overflowing, Rooster takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, so as not to startle Nicole. He crouches down, his eyes level with his daughter, and stretches out his arms.

"Birdie, you are walking honey!," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness. "Come here, can you come here?”

Nicole's eyes light up as she spots Rooster, her face breaking into a wide smile. Her little legs wobble, but she releases her grip on the door frame and takes a few more steps towards him, her arms reaching out for his embrace. She gather her balance quickly as she giggles towards him.

Rooster's heart swells as he scoops Nicole into his arms, lifting her off the ground. He holds her close, cherishing the weight of her in his arms and the feel of her tiny hands on his cheeks. He buries his nose in her hair, then kisses her cheek as he tries not to cry.

"My babygirl, you are walking," Rooster whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're growing up so fast. Dada loves you so much."

Nicole giggles, her laughter filling the air, and Rooster's heart feels like it could burst with joy. He steals a glance towards the kitchen, where Beatrice has paused her singing and the song as soon as she notices Nicole isn’t there and she hears her giggle.

“Nikki?” she calls, almost frantic, he could hear her walking around the kitchen and the clicking of the dogs claws following meant they were outside. So Nicole not only walked, but she did without support! Normally Jolene or the siblings would be by her side at all times, but not now.

Oh wow, he was going to cry again.

Beatrice’s steps approach the door frame and she stops mid calling once she sees what’s happening. She slowly drags her eyes up to Rooster’s face, mouth falling open and a gentle gasp escaping her mouth, “Rooster?”

“Surprise,gorgeous.’

Her lower lip wobbles, “Rooster!” and she lunges towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck, while being careful of Nicole who just giggles at the scene before her. He hugs her close, kissing Beatrice’s temple repeatedly, squeezing her to his body as she gently sobs on his shoulder, “You are home. You are home!’

“I am.” he grins, kissing her cheek this time, “And boy aren’t you a sight to sore eyes?”

[jodilin65]

sighs with frustration The news is still racism, Roe, and Trump. Starting to think we’ll never stop seeing that face even long after it’s dead.

It’s truly mind-boggling how a country can start a war with another country, and then the country that is being victimized is condemned for fighting back. It’s like if someone punches you in the face, and then you get in trouble for punching them back. It doesn’t make any sense.

We set up the new desk and the cup holder I added to it. Love the cut-out along the side for when I’m drinking from mugs. The desk is not much bigger than the other one because space is limited but it’s L-shaped and has room for both my desktop and laptop. I got it in white because I like bright colors better and dust shows up easier on darker colors. It clashes a bit with the rest of the furniture in the room, but that’s okay. The furniture that was in here when we bought the place is maple and it’s a medium shade of brown.

We also got an airflow deflector for the vent so I won’t be as chilly with air blowing on me.

He was lightheaded from giving plasma and I was tired from the Shingrix vaccine yesterday yet the bidet in my bathroom just had to start leaking. I sat down on the toilet and I heard drip-drip-drip and thought maybe I didn’t turn the shower off all the way until I realized where it was coming from. So now the newer and more stylish one is back on that works better but tends to leave my booty a little less dry. Guess I’ll just go through more toilet paper.

They gave him a little Valentine’s treat at the plasma place. A pink and red plastic cup with cute designs, a pen, and some of those heart candies that are just so-so.

He had to take breaks here and there while working on the toilet and desk but we managed to get it done. While I do like this desk for the space that I have, I don’t like the idea of spending the rest of our lives in a tiny house even though I’m sure we will. I just miss having a full-size place and it would be nice to have an office area that wasn’t in the bedroom. The little alcove off the kitchen was fine except for the fact that I can hear more outside noise from there and it’s colder in the winter while warmer in the summer. I also like to be in a room where I can shut the door so Tom’s movements don’t distract me if I want to work on certain projects.

So it’s good that all I had was fatigue. Never got the chills or body aches but my arm is red and sore at the injection site.

I forgot to say that Rhonda said not to do keto because I’ll lose 20 lbs fast but it’ll come right back. I guess keto restricts carbs even more as does Atkins. This is supposed to be a healthier balance of protein and carbs. Personally, I don’t think I’ll get under 160 but little by little I’m switching over to the new diet. I still have some food to finish up that I’m not going to be getting on this diet so it’s not something I’m going to start overnight. I’m going to ease into it over the next few weeks.

I have no idea why but it occurred to me that for about a week or so I’ve heard very few commercial planes. It’s been wonderful! Still hear some annoying small planes and helicopters but it’s been much better even though I don’t expect it to last. A few a day I can handle but when it was every 5 to 10 minutes it really got old.

Not sure I’m happy about the upcoming changes coming to PB. I appreciate that Josh finally admitted that while he’s invested in the community he’s not invested in managing the site and got someone else to do it. However, I don’t like the idea of the new features they hinted at over the next couple of years because I know that new features really means new bugs and kissing old features goodbye that I might actually like and not want to give up. I hate when sites make radical changes but I’m actually surprised it stayed the same this long. This is part of why I like to keep my stuff on different platforms, though, as you just never know.

In reading back on some of my 2010 journals, I came across a section where Maliheh said, “I never pranked you. The police confirmed that from the records the phone company provided, this was necessary before a wire tap could be put on my line.”

But I wasn’t talking about before court. When I accused her of being behind the calls I got, this was after the case got tossed out of court. I assumed it was in retaliation for my pranking her. I don’t think she was the one who did the actual calling, and the pigs should have been smart enough to know that her phone wasn’t the only available phone in the world. She could have called me from someone else’s phone.

In the end, I don’t believe she wasn’t behind the calls any more than I’ll ever believe Termite Tammy didn’t have anything to do with what I went through in Arizona. Of course, she was behind the calls. Sorry, but I just don’t believe in coincidences. Especially ones of that significance.

Also, upon reading back, I don’t think she dumped me after agreeing to be friends with me just to keep her name out of my book. I think she dumped me because I liked her too much for her comfort. Too bad I wasn’t post-menopausal then but you know what? I also wasn’t as smart. Smart enough to stay away from people like her in the first place.

I realized another ridiculous thing about Andy and again, it amazes me how acutely unaware he is of his own stupidity. You know, the things he calls “beliefs” and “opinions” that are actually false facts?

“Ignore what the doctors say,” he told me as far as losing weight with Hashimoto’s goes because he was able to lose weight with edema and hey, so what if they’re two totally different things?

But in 2010, he said he’d only believe I had a sleep disorder if a real doctor said so, not Dr. Jodi.

So they know what they’re talking about or they don’t? Well, docs aren’t perfect but sometimes they really do know what they’re talking about. Also, sometimes our symptoms are pretty obvious and it doesn’t take much research to confirm our suspicions before they’re formally diagnosed.

[canigetawaho]

I had just remembered some fun memories so ig now it's time for some fun facts about me yey 👐 (this is so long but it made me happy 🤷‍♀️)

1. Every sports professor had been hit in the head with a ball at least once by me. The only exception is my college one because he just calls us on the exam day so I have never touched a ball with him (I also want to point out the fact that everytime I hit them wasn't planed, just an accident)

Now, I had a professor that no matter how much both of us tried I would always hit her the moment I had a ball in my hands and it got to the point where she banned me from playing with them but she was to much of a sweetheart to do it for long so until she moved I kept on hitting her (and I felt sorry for her but I also loved playing). Years later we just happened to bump into eachother but I had forgotten how she looked like by then and I recognized her for the simple fact that the moment she saw me, she tried to protect her head with her hands(she had met her mortal enemy again, now I can't help but remember the Jojo meme with those two people approaching eachother)

But seriously, I was fortunate that she wasn't mad at me and actually thought it was a bit funny so we had a good laugh when we met again <3 :)

2. The head of my middle school in my last year there started a man hunt. For context, we have an exam at the end of middle school to see in what high school we will get in and the adults at that time really cared about reputation in general (and some did just want the best for us so, not all bad) and one of the subjects was math. Now I am very bad at it and we had at a simulation a very simple exercise that was meant to give a point for even the most stupid, we had to draw the geometric figure they mentioned in the exercise, that's it and I just so happened to be the only one that got that wrong lmao so the head of the school was pissed to say the least and because he wasn't allowed to open the sealed exam paper, he went in every class, talked to every professor and said everything he could think of to try and find the idiot but nobody snitched up so he was forced to give up. I had a field day watching that man loose his cool though and I did tell a few professors of mine the truth so they also had fun with the whole situation (also at the real math exam I had one of those professors that knew as my supervisor so it was a bit funny when he saw I was the first one to finish and his face filled with horror)

3. There was an ad with a dude that did a poor electrical job and got electrocuted cartoon style. He was called Dorel (it's kinda like a meme name in my country) and I really liked that ad as a child so when my uncle will say "Dorel do *cartoon scene from the ad*" I would do it and it got to a point where I got so used to him calling me Dorel that I wouldn't respond to him (and only him because there were other members that liked the joke but didn't do it as often) unless he would use that name and he kinda panicked but everyone had a good laugh (I was very little like 2-3? so I don't remember but my mom told me the story and I just adore it)

3. Now some Romanian language lessons yey you didn't think you will learn something new today did you? Well, in my language we use a group of sounds to form certain words: "ce", "ci", "ge", "gi", "che", "chi", "ghe", "ghi" and my mom tried to teach me words with this sounds but her attempt failed miserably because she had made 1 crucial mistake, she said a fruit as the last word before she let me try and my little self decided to also say a fruit even if it didn't use what she wanted. I was very proud of myself for that at the time :))

4. As a child, I thought that flowers were growing from the petals and I had practically distroyed my grandma's garden, planting the petals in the ground thinking it's gonna become so pretty now that I helped and then called her to look at it. Poor women, no wonder she became as white as a ghost :))

5. In highschool I had a professor that I absolutely hated with a burning passion so whenever I thought she wasn't around, I would say things like "she's a witch" and "we should throw some water on her to melt her" and every time I would come to find out that she was just a few meters away from me (but she never said anything, and because it's not in her character to not say something when she didn't like a certain thing, I just assumed, hoped, prayed she never heard me). The funniest though was the fact that I was in some random part of my town on some business with my mom and I was badmouthing that professor again only for her to spawn out of nowhere right on the other side of the street. I swear she always appeared whenever I talked about her (even faster if I said something bad). Something similar happened with another professor that caught me swearing one day the "she's behind me isn't she" style and since then I would always without fail bump into her wherever I happened to be in school until she left (and until then I had never seen her outside of class)

This is all I remember for now, just some little shenanigans that I hold dear :)

[peterlorrefanpage]

Yes!

"Gimpy toots his horn, makes day and night owl faces—a bit of business added by Lorre—and roams the hangar spouting his own quirky version of 'The Walrus and the Carpenter.' [...] In the final scenes aboard a cracked-up airship, blown off course in a raging storm over the Atlantic, Gimpy and John P. Fleming (Ralph Morgan), whose company built the plane, race paper sailboats—again, Lorre’s own idea—in the flooded cockpit. With water rising, the self-exposed spy, the disillusioned in-love airplane manufacturer, and the double-crossing pilot—each a failure in his own way—chum up for a last smoke, three on a match." - "The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre" by Stephen D. Youngkin

That helped leaven a bit of the "Come on, guys, you COULD save yourselves still" I was feeling, though they would never have been allowed to in that era.

Those ending 10 minutes when they've all resigned to their fate, and yet still make time to play with little paper boats? Peak cinema.

Theres subtle depth to the characters that you don't always see in old B-movies

[iamafalseprophet]

Hi I would love to request just a little drabble or something with Dwayne just being super cuddly and mushy, there's just not enough Dwayne fluff in world. :]

except you, you can stay · dwayne hoover x reader

a/n: my first time writing for dwayne and i love him so much. let me know if you want more chapters added or if you have any criticism. sorry if dwayne’s ooc:(

summary: after being friends with dwayne for a bit (after his family’s roadtrip), the two of you develop crushes on each other. coming over to his house, you decide to confess while hanging out and the two of you cuddle until you fall asleep.

tags/warnings: fluff, cuddly stuff, dwayne crushing hard, gender neutral reader

word count: 1,596

ao3 link

•°. *࿐

Sunny out, you were standing across from a house, looking on from the sidewalk. You hesitantly walked up as you turned your head to check that it was the right house number you’d been given. You looked down at a small piece of paper with an address written, then shoved it into your pocket and pushed the doorbell, hearing a ring that echoed throughout inside.

This was presumed to be the house of your friend, Dwayne. you two had met a few weeks ago, meeting (surprisingly) at a store while your parents both dragged you along for errands. You had complimented him on his shirt, most likely some obscure band, and it went on from there—though, Dwayne wasn’t really much of a talker when you first became friends. He radiated ‘don’t talk to me’ energy, but you couldn’t really help yourself talking to him, as cute as he was. He came around to you eventually, especially after finding out the many similarities between you two.

Snapped back into reality by the sound of a shuffling doorknob, you suddenly straightened up your posture and smiled as a little girl with frizzy hair and glasses answered the door, smiling back at you. “I’m Dwayne’s friend.” You put simply. A confused expression formed on the girls face, she then opened the door quickly and yelled, “Dwayneee!”

In a few moments, the skinny teen appeared out of his room from a hallway, a slight smile upon seeing you (that he tried to hide) as he gestured you to follow him. Your head perked up and you nodded, quickly taking your shoes off and leaving them near the door to be polite; then following him into his room. It was pretty cool—he had lots of plane related things, posters and models and whatnot, and a bunch of CDs you’d probably ask to go through.

“That was your sister Olive, right?” You recalled, observing the various items inside Dwayne’s room before turning to look at him, where he was sitting on his bed. “Yeah,” He nodded, as you then walked over to sit beside him. This is the first time you’d been over to his house, only ever really hanging out in public places like music stores or parks. You may or may not have been trying to reach Dwayne how to skateboard.

“Put on some music, Dwayne. Don’t be so quiet.” You joked, causing him to roll his eyes lightheartedly. “If you think I’m quiet now, you should’ve seen me in the last nine months.” He had briefly explained his vow of silence for the air force academy and him finding out about his colorblindness before, but not a lot else.

He didn’t want to be vulnerable, afraid you would for some reason leave or laugh at him, since you seemed to be his only friend right now—which, he typically didn’t care much about but you proved to be pretty special to him so far.

Dwayne obliged to your request, picking himself up from the bed as he wandered over to his many stacks of CDs and its player, searching for the write one. He picked out one from The Cure, their album Pornography. He knew you’d like that at least, since you’ve both exchanged comments about music artists you both enjoy.

While One Hundred Years started playing, he moved back toward the bed and sat back down next to you. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, not moving to fix his bad posture.

“Talk about ourselves? I dunno. You’re too mysterious sometimes. It makes me want to know more about you.” You answered, falling backwards on to the bed and pulling Dwayne down with you. He stifled a laugh, fixing his gaze on your own as you both laid there, your hands placed neatly on your stomach. “What do you want to know?” He questioned you more.

Dwayne began to become increasingly aware of the space that was between your faces for some reason now, not being able to prevent his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. He didn’t know how to really handle this emotion. His eyes wandered over you as he awaited an answer.

“What would your dream life be?”

You tried to think of a somewhat interesting thing to talk about between the two of you. You bit the inside of your cheek as a sort of habit, eyes tracing over Dwayne’s face as he thought for a moment.

“Being of this house, and being a pilot. But I don’t really know how attainable that is now.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to ask. You almost forgot about the whole situation with him discovering he’s colorblind, but to be fair he didn’t like to really talk about it. Even if it was brought up though, you tried to tell him something could change, encouraging him to keep chasing it.

“Well, it’s your dream, Dwayne. I don’t think that it’s impossible. You’ll find a way, promise.”

You both laid there, facing each other. A smile fell onto your lips and Dwayne nearly hid a smirk that crept up his own. “I will.” He affirmed, your reassurance making him feel a little better at the mention of his colorblindness.

Even as silence fell between the two of you, there was almost a mutual acceptance of it in the glances you shared. You both allowed it to stay, before he began saying something.

“What about you?” “Huh?”

“Your question, your dream life.” He replied to your confusion. Your eyes lit up as you felt stupid for a moment, remembering what you were talking about just before. You thought for a second, and Dwayne secretly loved to see your brows furrowed as you looked up in thought.

“I don’t know really. Probably art school. Something there. Writing, music, painting, acting,” You went on, responding as honestly as you could. You still didn’t know what you wanted specifically, but.. a general idea, mostly.

“That suits you. I’d watch, or listen to, whatever you’d make.”

A small smile was actually there on Dwayne, and you could feel a little flushed just from the sight of it. You then took everything in at once—how close you seemed to be to his face, his little grin, and the topic at hand, your futures. Dwayne made you feel content and happy more than anything, you’d realized. His presence was just comforting, regardless of what you discussed.

He watched you blank for a moment, wondering if what he had said was weird, silently beginning to panic just a little. His worry was put on pause as you pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arm over him and laying your head on his chest.

“I really like you, you know.”

You huffed out, voice wavering slightly. You’d attempted to sound all calm with that line, but you’d be lying to yourself if you tried to say that you weren’t going crazy right now.

What if he was just being nice and you were making everything weird? Poor Dwayne, having to deal with this. Oh God, he just wanted a friend and you had to be so forward. Stupid, stupid—

“I like you too. Really.”

You were now full of both happiness and shock as you just pressed your face into his t-shirt, smiling and blushing wildly against it. Hoping he meant it as much as you did, if that was even possible. You felt Dwayne combing through your hair with his hand, and you just leaned into the feeling, far too embarrassed to look at him in the face right now.

Honestly, your little confession had caught Dwayne by surprise completely. He’s never really felt this way about anybody, not to mention anybody feeling like this for him. He wanted to kick himself for developing a crush, oddly enough. It made him feel. A lot. But, he just couldn’t help but become happier seeing you, the way your lips curved up into a smile or how you laughed or how you looked talking about things you like. His face was resting against your head, free hand rubbing circles onto your arm.

“Thank God. Otherwise this would’ve been really awkward.” You spoke softly after a little, grinning and turning to rest your head on the side so you could actually breathe in more than just the scent of Dwayne’s shirt (though, it’s not that you didn’t like the smell).

He let out a chuckle, closing his eyes in bliss to just sit there a few moments. You lifted your head up a little, pushing yourself up to give him a small peck on the check, seeing his eyes flutter open and cheeks go red.

It was new, but Dwayne found himself liking the cuddly mushy stuff, surprisingly. He’s never given much thought to relationships or dating or all that crap, his focus on training and his vow, in the mindset that it would ‘get in the way’. But, he’s seen that it isn’t everything and that he actually wants you to stay. Here.

“Thanks for being here.”

He spoke genuinely, moving the hand he was tracing your arm with to the side of your face, looking down and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you for encouraging me..” His voice trailed off, a slight embarrassment growing over him as he felt your eyes stare into his.

“Of course, you can count on me.” You breathed out, brushing some of his dyed black hair out of his eyes, smiling as you did so. You two laid there for a while, falling into a midday nap.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 134: Break Up

They hadn't been able to get out of that flat for two days without getting mobbed.

After someone had leaked their relationship to the media, it had been one thing after another. Every time one (or both) of them left they were absolutely bombarded by people. Reporters followed them everywhere, people heckled them, Harry had taken to just casting shields around them any time they were outside to stop the curses that were shot at them.

Draco was sitting, curled up and brooding, on the sofa in the living room when Harry got back from the grocery store.

"Hey," he said, collapsing next to Draco and flopping over so he could rest his head on Draco's chest.

"Hi," Draco murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss over Harry's forehead. "How was your trip?"

Harry groaned and shook his head, "Don't ask."

"Harry," he started, in that careful way of his.

"No," he said.

Draco huffed, "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Doesn't matter," he said snuggling in closer. "I know that tone of voice; it sounds like sadness and denying ourselves, and I don't want it."

The other man sighed and slowly stroked his fingers through Harry's hair, "I love you," he said softly, voice heavy.

"Then stop saying it like it's a bad thing," Harry laughed.

Draco's lips brushed over Harry's forehead again, "Maybe we should take a break, though."

"What?" Harry asked, pushing back to look at his face. "You can't be serious."

(Read more below the cut)

"I'm just saying that it's not fair. Every time you leave you have to be worried about getting hexed, or me getting hexed; you have to check your food and coffee for poisons, you-"

"Draco," Harry interrupted, "I'm not going to break up with you."

"This just can't be worth it," Draco replied, obviously distressed. "We can't spend the rest of our lives-"

"Draco," he interrupted again, moving so that he could straddle Draco's hips, and cupping his face in his palms, "Run away with me."

Draco blinked, "What?"

"Run away with me," Harry repeated. "Let's just," he shook his head, "Leave. Let's run away and go see different places, and experience new things. Let's eat different foods, and sleep under the stars and in luxurious beds."

"Where would we go?" Draco asked.

He nodded eagerly, "I've been thinking about it. I've got a whole list of places," he said. "Hold on," he climbed up and dug through a stack of papers on the desk to find his notebook.

"What's this, then?" Draco asked when Harry sat back down with him once more.

"My list," he said. He opened to the first page with lists and pictures that he'd cut from magazines. "The pyramids of Giza. Paracas Peru," he said pointing to the picture of where the sea met the desert. "And Algrave in Portugal, look at the beaches," he added.

He flipped the page, "Sarakiniko beach in Milos, Greece," he said, trailing his fingers over the white sand. "The Galapagos Islands, they've got these giant tortoises," he informed excitedly. "Angel Falls in Venezuela, Bora Bora, and the Fairy Pools in Scotland."

"What'll we do in all of these places?" Draco asked with a faint smile.

He shrugged one shoulder, "Anything we like," he replied. "I'll take pictures and you'll find all the best food."

Draco hummed and flipped the page, "How would we go about doing it?"

"I'm glad you asked," Harry said, grinning and flipping to the back of his notebook where he had two plane tickets stashed. "The Cherry Blossom Festival in Japan starts in two days. What do you say?" he asked. "Will you run away with me?"

Draco nodded, eyes looking suspiciously wet.

Harry leaned in and kissed him, "We'd best get packed then."

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

This ficlet can be read as a prequel to Day 83: Arcade.

It's a little bit short, but it's been a busy week! I'll be able to spend some time writing tomorrow, though. <3

Day 133: Married | Day 135: Off-Guard

[artist-fan146]

Hey if you were anything like me, I’ll have you know I was calling @fishstickfeind for about 2 hours on discord, and exactly in order talked about:

Warning there are minor spoilers for Cars on the Road So if you don’t want to look, please don’t tap on this post!

(Images to make post longer):

How was Matt’s drawing of Lightning’s Cars 2 design going?

Me basically forcing Matt to watch A Goofy Movie

Catching up on our lives

How did Mater and Mato get stuck in a tree?

How did Cruz start a racing school, started a charity for snow tires for the lightly treaded, is learning French, became a certified coach during the off season, dabble in family therapy and is a certified wedding officiant?!?! THATS SO COOL I LOVE CRUZ!!!

How do cars play Janga?!?!

For about the first Half Hour of our call I was rambling about the start to the rise and fall of Disneytoon Studios

We don’t understand why people tend to hate on experimental eras of different animation studios

I don’t like how people consider Pixar during 2011-2017 as Pixar’s Dark Age, I consider it more of an experimental era for Pixar!

I though that if characters from both Planes movies at least showed up in Cars on the Road, it could’ve gave Disneytoon Studios its proper and long overdue spotlight back

What were our favorite pieces of the soundtrack from all 3 Cars movies?

What scenes from Cars 2, we related to the most?

HOW DOES CARS 2 HAVE A G RATING?!?!?!

PLANES ALSO HAD A G RATING WHILE PLANES FIRE AND RESCUE HAD A PG RATING?!??!?!??!

How is the first Cars the longest movie in the franchise while Cars 2 is the shortest movie?!

What were our favorite episodes of Cars on the Road?

Is it possible that both Mater and Lightning grew up living with high expectations in their lives? 🧐

I love Lighting’s Costume Design in B-Movie as Deputy Hazard!

Lighting’s new design feels a bit too simple…

I LOVE HOW RELATABLE MATER AND LIGHTING ARE!!!!

That one scriptwriter character from the show is such a mood

I LOVED THAT THEY ADDED MATER AND MATO PLAYING ROCK PAPER SCISSORS BUT IT WENT “1 2 3 Rock”!!

HOW DID THE CLOWN CARS GET IN AND OUT OF OTHER CLOWN CARS?!?!

ANGST!!

WE WERE ROBBED OF SPECIAL MOMENTS OF ANGST

FORGET WORLD BUILDING FROM CARS 2, CARS ON THE ROAD ARE SETTING THE REAL QUESTIONS

How is a show that is supposed to be slice of life raises so many questions?!?!?!

HOW DOES RELIGION WORK IN THE CARS UNIVERSE?!?

Is there actually a Hillbilly Hell for Hillbilliys?

How does Oil work in the Cars Universe?

We talked about much more stuff but I don’t remember the rest!

Extras:

- I made so many references to exposure therapy and Hillbilly Hell! 😂

[mc-lukanette]

Being the little girl that she was (both in age and height), Marinette couldn't see over the railing of her balcony without a bit of effort, but that didn't stop her from being there. The balcony was her little hideaway from the world where she felt that she could do whatever she wanted, able to recognize the footsteps of her parents before they actually showed up so she had time to break back into reality and hide anything she might've been working on for them.

That particular day, she'd taken to drawing, a box of crayons and a sketchpad at work for her; she'd gotten them for her birthday and hadn't accepted anything else to draw with ever since. The crayons were plentiful, displaying more colors than she could've ever needed, whereas the sketchpad had paper about twice the size of a normal sheet.

She was given even more of an excuse to spend her time on the balcony that day since the wind wasn't strong, allowing her to draw to her heart's content without worry of her papers getting blown away.

Lying on her stomach, she was partway to drawing the light pink dress she'd seen in her dreams when the sound of a guitar made her stop. She'd heard music being played near her house a few times, but those were a lot more loud and chaotic whereas the current music seemed more subdued and calm.

She looked around, then pushed herself up into a sitting position and shuffled over to the fence of the balcony. Peeking through the bars, she followed the sound's source to the houseboat floating in the Seine, practically right in front of her house. There was a boy sitting there, his back facing her and a slightly over-sized guitar in his lap. His hair was messy, but the tips were highlighted in a gorgeous blue color that put her crayons to shame.

The music he played was actually really good, even though he wasn't perfect at it, and she felt impressed since she didn't know the song he was playing. Maybe he wrote his own music?

It took her a few minutes to realize that she'd done nothing but get lost in the sound, her paper and crayons left abandoned behind her. Snapping to attention, she got an idea and turned around, hurrying to get back to them so she could enact it. Without even a thought spared for her sketchpad, she ripped out a sheet of paper from it, setting the sketchpad aside and pulling out the blue and black colors from her box of crayons.

On the single sheet of paper, laid out horizontally, she took the blue crayon and started drawing various music symbols near the corners. She wasn't a musical expert by any means, but she knew enough and added a guitar just for effect. Then, right in the middle, she used the black crayon to write a simple message:

Your music is pretty.

That done, she pushed her crayons off to the side and began meticulously folding the piece of paper. Given that she loved arts & crafts of all kinds, she knew by heart how to do all sorts of origami.

Making something as simple as a paper airplane was almost too easy for her.

She took the folded message in her hand, then stood and walked over to a nearby stool, dragging it until it was right by the center of her balcony's fence. She stepped onto it, now able to peek over the railing and see the houseboat without any bars in front of her vision to obscure it. Sticking her tongue out to the side, she reeled her arm back, then threw the plane in the direction of the Seine. A hint of doubt briefly overtook her concerning her aim, making her reach out for the plane, but it was far too late to stop it.

The paper airplane soared smoothly at first, courtesy of her throw, but dipped soon after due to the lack of wind. Marinette nervously bit her bottom lip, watching it soar another few meters before dipping again, even as she silently pleaded for it to go farther.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a gust of wind came from behind her. She winced at the chill, then gasped as she saw the paper airplane pick up speed and almost seem to steer itself in the right direction. It flew past the streets and sidewalks, turning just slightly as it actually reached the houseboat, causing it to swerve into the boy's eyesight when it landed on the deck.

The music stopped as the boy's head tilted down at the paper, clearly seeing it. He paused, then carefully set his guitar aside as he got up. He went over to the plane, then picked it up, examining it for a moment before finally starting to unfold it. Marinette giggled when he had the whole thing undone and held out, as it looked as if he were holding a treasure map.

She couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that she couldn't see his immediate reaction, given that he wasn't facing her, but hoped that the message made him happy anyway.

When his arms lowered, signifying that he was done reading, he looked around the houseboat, then turned to search the streets behind him. Marinette realized that he was looking for the writer of the message once his gaze drew upwards to meet hers, and she could just make out his blue eyes.

She squeaked, lowering herself at first to hide, then steeled up her confidence and rose back up, waving at him. He gaped at her, then began to frantically look around the houseboat again, even doing a spin to fully survey it but seeming disappointed at whatever he did or didn't find. He considered the paper in his hands, then set it down on top of whatever he'd been sitting on, setting his guitar on top of a portion of it like it were a massive paperweight. Having done that, he ran into the houseboat itself, to the point where she could no longer see him.

She frowned, not understanding what he was doing. Had...had he not liked it?

Letting her nerves overtake her, she sank down, gripping the bars hard while she fought herself in the prison of her own anxiety. Maybe he thought it was weird to get a message from a stranger? Or... maybe her hand writing wasn't neat enough. Maybe he was mad because she hadn't drawn the guitar accurately enough!

Before she could worry further, the boy returned to the deck, having brought things with him. He knelt down and started to set them down, Marinette squinting to try to see what they were.

Her eyes lit up with relief as she realized: he had brought markers and his own piece of paper.

Excitement coursing through her at the prospect of what was happening, she grabbed the railing and pulled herself up, carefully balancing herself on top of the railing while kneeling down. Her mother would never approve, but she couldn't hear their footsteps anyway and imagined they'd never know.

The boy finished whatever he was writing, then began to fold. Given the size of the paper he was using, she knew that it was going to be smaller than hers, but she didn't mind; it'd just be cuter, that's all.

He took the folded paper carefully in his hand, then looked up to her, at which point she wondered if he could really manage to fly the plane all the way up there. Nevertheless, he seemed determined, taking a few steps backwards with the paper airplane held high. Taking a breath, he then dashed forward, throwing the plane towards her.

The wind picked up again, this time in the opposite direction. Marinette leaned forward in awe, eyes sparkling as the paper airplane was flown her way, regardless of how many meters up she was in comparison to the boy. She gripped the railing for safety's sake to ensure that she wouldn't fall, but once the plane was within her reach, she couldn't help herself. The wind in her hair, she raised her arms, gripping the paper with both hands while being careful not to crush it.

Losing her balance, due to both the wind and her letting go of the railing, she fell back onto the balcony, though it wasn't anything painful compared to her usual clumsiness and she was far too happy to care. She sat up, trying not to rush while unfolding the paper in fear of tearing it somehow.

The message he'd written was simple, like hers, but it made her smile regardless.

Thanks. I like your drawings.

She beamed, then set the paper down and hopped back up on the stool to look at him over the railing. She waved at him, which he returned with his own and a happy smile on his face. Now unable to help herself, she got back down and returned to her sketchpad, humming the song he'd been playing earlier as she thought of what to write back.

Thus began their daily habit of sending paper airplanes to each other, favored by the wind and delivered successfully each time.

[pinespittinink]

✨ FIND THE WORD TAG 🔍

@the-void-writes tagged me for this round! my words were red, sun, grand, and hold.

All excerpts from The Great Glavenisean Theater 🎭 so i’m using the taglist: @cabaretofwords, @sentfromwolves, @florraisons, @hysteriwah (ask if you want to be added!)

🔎 RED 🔍

“I don’t mean to sell you on that alone,” he replies, “Just think of it as a welcome on behalf of the city itself.” He casts me another curious glance, index finger toying along the wet edge of his glass. “You’ve really never heard of it? The Glavenisean Theater? It’s a dime among dull coins, a real emerald.”

His tone has fleshed out with pride, but for what? A local entertainment, his paramour among it? I’ve been to the theater before, in my childhood; the costumes admittedly drew me in more than any performance on the stage, skirts and pearl buttons and reversible jackets and even the red cloth of the curtains themselves, all left lingering on my mind like stamps on old letters. 

“I promise,” Travis says, a sparkle in his eyes as though he’s reading my mind in this very moment, “on my mother, my honor, and my life, it’ll be nothing like you’ve ever seen before.”

🔎 SUN 🔍

“You’re going to love it, Morgan,” says our cousin, his grin a broad enamel thing as he drives us across the gleaming breadth of the plains, flat golden fields burnished as a penny beneath the sun. The skyscrapers rise in the distance, encroaching nearer and faster, silver monoliths like something planted by God or a man more fantastical. They look like something from a dream, I think, fresh with wonder, the planes racing by. 

🔎 GRAND 🔍

The room inside is less grand than what I’ve seen of the theater so far, and seems to be removed from the backstage wings and dressing rooms. The walls are papered a lustrous olive green, the dark ceiling dominated by a brass chandelier, its arms strung through with ropes of pearls. The space is filling rapidly, a mixed drink of outside guests and cast and crew members, shedding residual costumes and coats as they drape themselves onto chaises and long lounge chairs, pulling a partner or two into their laps with laughter.

🔎 HOLD 🔍

“This is Morgan,” Seonghwa says, doing the gracious favor of unlatching himself a little from Travis’s starfish hold. “He’s our new seamster.” 

“Is he now?” the woman says, as I begin to gabber immediately, shapeless words bumbling from my mouth in refute. Seonghwa winks at me, his entire presence sparkling, and I purse my lips a bit.

“Not yet,” I correct, and blush ruddy, pinching my brow. “No. I am—I am not. But I am a dressmaker.”

tagginggggg: @sentfromwolves (💝) @aninkwellofnectar, @baroquesse, @muddshadow, @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @magnus-s-writes, @cherrybombfangirlwrites, @orionalumn, and @brain-wanders

your words are: DARK, FACE, CURL, & NAILS

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Draco's First Time

(Random idea. Not beta'd.)

*

I'm not gonna stop him, thought Harry to himself as Draco abruptly darted into the store selling overpriced candy, biscuits and snacks.

"HARRY!" he bellowed. "THEY HAVE THOSE MUGGLE GOLDEN BALLS I LOVE!"

Convinced that half of Heathrow airport had heard Draco holler the words 'Muggle golden balls', Harry entered the store after Draco and watched in indulgent silence as Draco bought enough chocolate and snacks to fill two large paper bags.

"My god, is that a coffee shop?!" yelled Draco about thirty seconds after they exited the chocolate shop. "In a plane station?!"

"Airport," Harry corrected gently, smiling apologetically at passersby who stared at Draco in open - and some disapproving - bewilderment.

"Yes, yes," Draco said impatiently. "But what if the plane drivers--"

"Pilots."

"--drink too much coffee and then drive the plane--"

"Fly the plane."

"--too fast because they are under the influence of the caffeine?"

"They're way more experienced than that, love. It'll be fine. Besides," Harry smiled wryly, taking Draco's hand with his free hand, "not everyone has quite the sort of reaction to caffeine like you do."

Draco's eyes bulged. "I react perfectly normally!" he proclaimed, loud enough to make Harry wince.

And then he was pulling his hand free and darting into the coffee shop before Harry could stop him.

I'm...not gonna stop him, thought Harry doubtfully.

Ten minutes later they were walking towards their terminal, Draco sucking continuously at the straw in his ridiculous concoction (iced coffee with a shot of espresso, vanilla syrup, chocolate syrup, caramel, whipped cream and chocolate chips). He was already more bright-eyed, and as Harry took his hand again and moved closer, he could feel Draco almost vibrating.

Shit, thought Harry just as Draco shouted:

"Merlin, another line?!"

Every single person standing in line to board their plane, turned to look at them and Harry silently cringed.

"Er... Maybe you can finish that later," he murmured, reaching for Draco's coffee.

"What? No!" Draco pulled his coffee out of reach. "Why are there so many lines everywhere, Harry? Bloody hell, we should've just taken a portkey."

"It's moving now, look," said Harry in relief. "We're right on time."

They joined the line which started moving at a rapid pace and to Harry's relief, they were boarding the plane in less than ten minutes.

"Welcome on board!" said the flight attendant brightly.

"We are first class," said Draco belligerently over Harry's shoulder.

The flight attendant looked a bit taken aback but quickly recovered enough to graciously show them to their seats, promising to return shortly with champagne.

"Merlin, look at all these poor people squashed together like mere peasants," said Draco loudly, peering past the purple curtains that separated them from the other passengers.

"Draco, please come sit down," said Harry weakly. "Here, you can have the window seat."

"Well, obviously." Draco came over, still drinking that fucking coffee and stepping on Harry's toes he fumbled his way into his seat and threw himself down. "Well, fuck, this window is miniscule!" he yelled.

I shouldn't stop him, right? Harry was quickly losing fortitude.

Still, Harry sat through this, smile determinedly in place, for the next twenty minutes.

"This champagne is pigswill, Harry."

"What's that smell? Have one of those peasants back there taken off their shoes?"

"Morgana's tits, look! My seat is moving! I can make my seat move, Harry!"

"Are we there yet? Nothing has changed outside this window, though. Is this the Maldives?"

"Can that annoying person with the horrid champagne refresh my coffee?"

And then it only got worse.

The plane started taxiing.

"Oh my god! We're moving!" Draco exclaimed, clutching at the seat's armrests as though he's about to be shot out of it into space.

"Mhmm, we're about to take off now," Harry said softly, closing a hand over Draco's.

The plane started picking up speed and Draco's knuckles - his whole face - turned white.

"OH MY GOD! WE'RE GOING TO CRASH!" he shrieked.

"No, we're just--"

Then the plane lifted off, and Draco screamed again, no doubt at the way his stomach dropped. The other first class passengers and the flight attendants strapped into their seats at the head of the plane were staring at them in astonishment. Harry didn't even want to think about the whole bunch of people on the other side of the curtain.

"AAARGH, THIS IS NOT LIKE BEING ON A BROOM, HARRY!"

I'm gonna have to stop it, thought Harry helplessly.

He reached for the magically enhanced sleeping pills in his pocket - Hermione had prepared him for such a situation.

Then he reached for one of chocolates they'd bought. While Draco was still leaning back in his seat with his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clenched on the armrests, Harry quickly embedded two tiny yellow pills into the sphere of chocolate and waited for them to finish ascending.

Finally, finally, with a soft ping, the seatbelt signs went off and the flight attendants got up and started preparing refreshments. Draco was still sitting with his teeth clenched, his whole body stiff.

"We're done, Draco," Harry said softly. "You can't even feel it now."

Opening one eye and then the other, Draco slowly leaned forward to look out the window.

"Well, fuck me, but even my Firebolt 5000 can't get me this high up, Harry." Draco said loudly.

Harry quickly stuffed the chocolate into Draco's surprised mouth.

"Good, isn't it?" he said hurriedly as Draco stared at him in shock, chewing automatically. "Caramel and almonds on the inside."

Draco's brow furrowed. "Almonds?"

"Yes, almonds," said Harry hurriedly. "Those are the crunchy things you're eating."

Draco swallowed and licked his lips, expression slightly funny. "Something weird about these. I don't like these as much as the golden balls, Harry. Muggles can't make chocolate!" he added, voice rising.

Then, before Harry could look around apologetically, Draco slumped in his seat and began to snore, mouth open.

Harry stared straight ahead of himself, feeling like he'd just suffered a traumatic incident.

Yeah, they were just going to take a portkey back home.

*

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Seven: Humanity

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, reader is a virgin.

Word count: 6,300>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Seven - Next

Max stood outside, his back pressed against his car. He closed his eyes as the morning sun warmed his skin - only it felt more like an unpleasant, burning sensation. He felt a fire of anguish rife within him. He was furious. How had he let all this happen? How had little Maxwell Lorenzano let this happen? He scrunched up his nose in disdain as a single tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He had nobody to blame but himself, and that’s what hurt the  most. He had come so close to losing everything. He could still lose everything. You had preached to him about how Diana was symbolic of hope and that she’d never judge him, yet, Max couldn’t help but feel like she was judging him. When she told him that the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. And in that moment, he felt so undeserving. He was a bad man who had done bad things and maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a father. Maybe Alistair would be better off with Julianna. Maxwell found himself losing hope.

You were still inside, looking over some documents about Dolos’ dreamstone that Diana had been collecting. She explained to you that most of it had been provided by her old friend, Dr Barbara Minerva. Dr Minerva was a gemologist, according to Diana, who had looked into Romulus’ dreamstone just a few days ago. “Where is she now?” you asked Diana as your finger traced the sketch of the stone. At least you knew what exactly you were looking for. A gorgeous citrine stone with Greek scripture engraved into it.

Diana smiled faintly, but the glaze in her dark eyes were not lost on you. “She’s gone.” Diana whispered, looking into the distance. 

“Oh Diana, I’m so sorry,” you frowned, placing a gentle and comforting hand in the small of Diana’s back. “Did Max know her?”

Diana took a sharp breath. “Yes.” she said coldly, before spinning around on her heel and walking over to her desk. You wanted to prod further and find out more but you noticed how stand off-ish Diana had become over your brief mention of Max and his relationship with Barbara. You figured it might not be best to push it. At least not right now.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about Maxwell and you were aware that he had been standing outside for quite a long while. You hoped that he was okay. You sighed, taking Diana and Barbara’s research and composing it into a pile for you to take away. “I should be going then. If we want to catch the flight to Athens.” you shrugged with a caring smile. Diana glanced back at you. 

“Did my mother grant you permission to come here?” Diana asked, quirking her eyebrow.

You bit your lip nervously. “No,” you admitted. “Queen Hippolyta believed I was foolish for wanting to come here. I told her I had my calling but she didn’t care. My mother Hestia granted me a secret passage. Queen Hippolyta hasn’t been the same since you left.” 

Diana nodded knowingly before saying your name gently, almost cautiously. “My mother didn’t grant you permission to come to the world of man because you’re too powerful.” Diana informed you. Her face hardened and she had become incredibly serious. You knotted your eyebrows in bewilderment and slowly shook your head.

“I- I don’t understand.” you said weakly. Too powerful for the world of man?

“You are the daughter of Zeus and Hestia. You are a goddess,” Diana smiled, cupping your face with her hand. “I’m only a demi-God, I have half the power you have. I can be here. But to have a whole Goddess walking on this earth, utilizing her powers… you’re playing a dangerous game. I’ve read about this in ancient Amazonian mythology. It would lead to the world’s destruction.” Diana explained quietly. “I would never want to harm this world.” you reassured Diana, pulling out of her grip and narrowing your eyes in disbelief. 

“I know,” Diana hushed you. “I know you would never want to harm this world. But it’s not about what you want. It’s about the inevitable. Do you think Maxwell wanted to cause all the death and destruction? All the hate and war?”

“No of course not.” you replied.

“But he did. And now he’s… dealing with the aftermath. You might be here to help Maxwell and that’s okay. That is your duty. But you cannot stay. You must return to Themyscira once this is over with. You have to.”

“Yes but Max-” you began to protest but Diana cut you off.

“Once you fulfill your calling and bring him and Alistair together, you will have satisfied your duty as the goddess of home and hearth. You have no reason to stay, right?”

She was right. No reason to stay. But shit- you had become so attached to Max Lord and his son, you never even considered the fact you might have to leave them. It wasn’t even a ‘might’. You were going to have to leave them eventually and you didn’t have long at all. “Right,” you confirmed sadly, but trying to remain as composed as possible. “But I don’t even know how to get back to Themyscira.” you sighed.

Diana grabbed the rope of your lasso and traced the patterned ridges in between her father. “By combining both our lassos, I can create a one-way portal back home. When all this is over, you know where to find me,” Diana promised. Your heart ached. You felt nauseous. And you knew now you had to go outside and face Maxwell. You had to tell him. Your mind was racing as you wondered how he’d react to the news. “I know how you feel...” Diana said softly before looking out the window and into the sky above. “Once you’re back home, you’ll miss him. You’ll think about Max every single day. Just like I think about Steve.”

You didn’t even know how to answer, you were hurting too much. You knew Diana was only looking out for you and what was best for the world of man, but this wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t you stay? Why did you have to leave Maxwell? You picked up the papers and held them close to your chest. “I’ll see you in Athens, Diana.” was all you said, before leaving the Smithsonian.

Maxwell saw you approaching before you set eyes on him. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath before giving you a small wave so you knew where he had parked his car. As he caught your attention, a bout of relief washed over you. He was beautiful - his hair golden under the sun and the gold rings on his fingers sparkling as the rays of light bounced off them. He made you feel safe and happy. But as you got closer to him, you began to feel afraid. Leaving him was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

The car ride to the airport was difficult. Maxwell hadn’t put the radio on this time, and so the journey was filled with an unwelcome silence. Every few minutes you would take a shaky exhale and try and work up the courage to tell him what Diana had told you. About how you couldn’t stay. You had to leave. But even before you said anything, you could cut the tension with a knife. He wasn’t okay and you knew it.

-----

“Flight RD270401 from Washington D.C. to Athens, Greece, is now boarding from gate 8.” echoed the airport speakers overhead. With your hand pressed against the cold window glass, you looked in awe at the airplane. It was unlike anything you had ever seen before. You looked back at Maxwell, who was pinching the bridge of his nose, talking to one of the airport employees. She was clearly saying something he had no interest in hearing. He shook his head to whatever she had told him, and he wiggled his finger at her. The conversation ended with him signing an autograph for her and then sauntering towards you.

You had managed to swindle your way past passport security thanks to your trusted lasso of Hestia, but Maxwell was still anxious you'd somehow get stuck in Athens without a passport and wouldn't be able to return to D.C. back in time for the court hearing. You tried reassuring him that everything would be alright, but he had a stubborn mind and he was already worked up from what Diana had told him earlier. That the consequence of his actions lied in the fate of his and Alistair's relationship. He knew that couldn't be good.

“She changed our one-way plane tickets to return tickets, so we have two days to get the dreamstone and then we must head back to D.C.” Maxwell informed you with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. Only two days in Greece, and then it was back home to prepare for court. And then you had to go. He had barely spoken to you since the museum. You understood his stress and you missed hearing his sweet voice, but you didn't want to push him to talk about what happened back there if he wasn't ready.

"What did it cost you?" you asked hesitantly. 

"She just wanted an autograph and my number," Maxwell shrugged, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the airplane. He was trying to read the docking gate number. "Come on, that's our flight."

Even though Diana had clearly explained that the world had forgotten about the broadcast, he couldn’t shake his guilty conscience. It felt strange- people still approaching him and asking him for autographs, giving him attention. It only added to his feeling of shame.

Maxwell walked hurriedly and you felt like you were practically chasing after him. There was hardly a rush. The airplane had just landed. "Your number?" you asked curiously.

"So she can call me." Maxwell explained further, his voice stone cold and emotionless. His comment was abrupt and to the point. It wasn’t a big deal. She might have believed she had a chance to go on a date with Maxwell Lord, but she really didn’t, and Maxwell knew that. He had more important things going on, and besides, his mind was already unwillingly preoccupied with you. 

"Why would she want to do that?" you asked and Maxwell scoffed. He knew you weren’t accustomed to the nature of exchanging numbers and what that meant, but his frustration was increasing by the second. The thought of getting on a flight made him feel anxious and uneasy. He hadn’t been on a flight since he used the President’s chopper, Marine One, to fly to the bunker. Every little thing was reminding him of the incident and it was traumatic. Maxwell hadn’t even prepared himself for the chance of coming into contact with the dreamstone again.

"Jesus, do you have to question everything?" Maxwell snapped, abruptly halting in his footsteps and turning to you. You froze, your blood running cold as you sensed his anger. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling timid, and ducked your head down. He shouted at you, and the ferocity in his voice made you feel small and vulnerable. "I'm sorry," Max sighed when he saw the change in your conduct. His heart sank in his chest, knowing that he was to blame for your demeanor. Just like he was to blame for everything else. "Let's just get seated, okay?"

You didn't reply, but followed him to gate 8 in silence as you queued up to get your tickets checked so you could board. Everything about this experience was brand new and awe-inspiring. You had watched many airplanes jet off into the sky and fly into the clouds above. Despite being so far away from home, you found comfort in knowing that both you and the Amazons were underneath the same sky. You had never felt so close to them.

Maxwell was truly more than happy to help you find the dreamstone. He knew it was something you needed to do, and after all, you were helping him with Alistair. You had warned him that if you didn't find the dreamstone, it could cause the world to end. The world had almost ended just a few days ago before Max had renounced his wish. It was serious. But to Max, all that mattered was Alistair. Even if you successfully destroyed the dreamstone, if he lost custody of Alistair then his life would be over. Alistair was his whole world. His only reason. He couldn't lose him. His life depended on it.

Just as you got strapped in, a flight attendant walked by. "Ah, are you two on your honeymoon?" she smiled, her blue eyes glittering. "Two seats in first class have just opened up, if you'd like." 

"Yes!" Maxwell exhaled sharply, unclipping his belt and then reaching down to your lap unclip yours and pull you up. He needed the luxury of first class. It brought him a sense of normality. 

“What’s a honeymoon?” you hissed, looking around the cabin.

“Just pretend we’re married, okay?” Maxwell hissed back before putting on a fake smile to present his charming exterior.

As the air hostess guided you to first class, she swooned over Maxwell.

“I love your infomercials,” she cooed, placing her hand on his arm and tracing the curve of his bicep. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest. “The part where you’re on a yacht and you say that thing about how you don’t need a business degree to get started is so inspiring. And sexy.” she sighed longingly, fluttering her dark eyelashes.

Before Max could reply, you grabbed his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. He looked at you, his eyes widening slightly with shock. Maybe he was always going to be taken aback by your touch. You made him feel a way he had never felt before. 

“Yes,” you smiled leaning over to take her hand off Maxwell. “My husband is very talented.”

There was no denying the way Max’s heart raced at your words. He swore he’d never remarry after Julianna. He’d also sworn that he’d never fall in love again. But then you came into his life and things changed. For a second, he actually imagined what it would be like to marry you. He imagined a life where he could show you off on his arm. He could treat you, spoil you, kiss you all day and all night. He imagined you looking over Alistair. He had already become familiar with the maternal side of you. As his mind wandered, he imagined the possibility of you giving him some more children. He cursed himself for letting himself get carried away; lost in thoughts that could never happen.

About an hour later, you were finally in the air and looking over Diana’s documents about Dolos’ dreamstone, provided by Dr Minerva. Maxwell was slumped against the blue velveteen chair, his legs spread as he nursed a glass of whiskey and picked at some peanuts. You sighed, feeling defeated. Your mind was overcome by all this new-found knowledge about the stone and you just wanted to relax. If you could do anything, you’d curl into Maxwell’s lap and fall asleep in his strong arms. But there was one thing preying on your mind. One thing you still needed to tell him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, and Maxwell looked up at you, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours.

“Better,” he admitted with a small smile. “Athens is very beautiful. I think you’ll like it,” Your heart warmed knowing that he was feeling better. It was probably due to his intake of alcohol but nevertheless, his anxiety had eased and that’s all that mattered. Maxwell took a deep breath and tried to repress the smirk that was threatening to play on his lips. “You’re beautiful. Come here,” he said, patting his thigh. You bit your lip and walked over to Max, sliding down and sitting in his lap. He wrapped his arm around your body and pressed a soft kiss into your neck. Whiskey always gave him a boost of confidence but nothing had ever felt so right. You belonged in his arms. You belonged with him. He dragged his tongue up your skin and pressed a kiss into your jaw, nibbling at you gently with his teeth. You hummed in delight, loving the way his lips felt against you. “I am so glad you’re here,” Maxwell admitted, looking into your eyes. “I’m so glad you came into my life. I don’t know what I’d be doing if you weren’t here. I don’t know how I’d cope.” he confessed before pressing another kiss into you.

Your blood ran cold at his words. He might not know what he’d do without you, but he’d have to learn. You couldn’t stay with him in DC no matter how much you wanted to and he was going to have to learn to accept that. You had to tell him. It was now or never.

You pulled away from his lips and smoothed your hands over his hair. You noticed the way his roots were a dark brown colour and thought about how it faded into a dirty blonde. Did he dye his hair? You remembered your vision of him when he was younger and he had dark brown hair. That was why you hadn’t recognised him as Lorenzano. You still had so many questions to ask him but so little time.

“Max...” you croaked as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Hey, what is it?” Maxwell cooed, rubbing circles into your back. You rest your head on his shoulder. You really were in love with him.

But you had to suck up your feelings. You closed your eyes. “I can’t stay,” you revealed, taking a deep breath. When Max didn’t reply, you managed to bring yourself to open your eyes and look at him, trying to judge his reaction. “Diana said I can’t stay.”

Maxwell was perplexed. He looked at you, then looked at his surroundings on the airplane and then looked back at you. “You can’t stay where? D.C.?”

“The world of man,” You sighed, playing with his hair. It was so difficult to read Maxwell’s expression. It felt like he was frozen in time. “She said I’m a goddess and I’m too powerful to stay. I could accidentally cause the world’s destruction.” you scoffed at how ridiculous Diana’s claim sounded, but deep down, you knew it made sense. She was your princess and you had to trust her, no matter what.

“But- what- how- what?” Maxwell exclaimed. He felt sick. He didn’t understand, but his stomach was in knots. There was a chance he was going to lose Alistair, and now you were going to leave him too. Maybe this is what he deserved, but he didn’t like it one bit. You had only just come into his life and you were like a blessing in disguise. Now you were going to leave?

“Max,” you whimpered, letting the tears drip down your face. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go back home. I want to stay here with you and Alistair.” you sniffed, pressing your palm flat against his chest. Seeing you cry was pushing him to cry.

“Don’t go,” he begged, shaking his head. “There must be a way you can stay. A loophole or something.”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head in defeat. “I wasn’t even meant to come here. Our queen denied my request but my mother granted me passage to the world of man. She shouldn’t have, but she just wanted me to complete my calling and fulfil my duty as the goddess of home and hearth.”

“Hey, we’ll figure something out okay?” Max reassured, but his expression showed anything but assurity.

“We can’t,” you sobbed. Your tears were beginning to dampen his shirt but he didn't care. He held you close and tight as if it was going to be the last time. “I have to go.” you confirmed, hating the way the words sounded as they parted your lips.

“How long do we have?” Maxwell asked you, letting a tear slip down his cheek. You gasped and quickly wiped his tear away with your thumb.

“No longer than a week. Five days, maybe. As soon as the court case is over. As soon as you gain custody of Alistair, I must go.” you informed Max, exhaling shakily as you fought for composure. Max shook his head profusely in disbelief.

“I wish we had more time.” he choked out, resting his forehead against yours, his grip around you tightening. 

You stayed in Maxwell’s arms for the rest of the journey. You’d both even fallen asleep at one point. When you landed in Athens, everything still felt bittersweet. The sky was dark and it was in the middle of the night. The resort was isolated but Maxwell was right, it was beautiful. Pearly white stars pierced the sky and small waves rippled through the turquoise tranquil waters. You followed your guide group to the hotel in silence. 

“I don’t want this to ruin our trip, or ruin our final few days together.” Maxwell whispered as you queued in the lobby for the key to your hotel room.

“Me neither,” you hummed, resting your head on his shoulder and taking his hand. “I love your hands.” you whispered back, tracing his fingers and brushing over his knuckles.

“Yeah?” he asked, his breath hitching as you brought his hand up to your lips.

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

-----

“We only have five days until this is all over.” you purred, tugging on Maxwell’s shirt and falling backwards onto the bed. You giggled when you heard the springs in the mattress go as Maxwell hovered above you. Your hands found Max’s cheeks and you looked him in the eyes.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Maxwell admitted although his tone was low, gravely and almost dark as he planted sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He never wanted this moment to end - or any moment that he shared with you, for that matter. Nothing had changed. You still revelled in the way he kissed you and the way his touch erupted a frenzy of butterflies in your stomach.

“Me too,” you huffed, bringing your hands down to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. “But all I know is that I want to make every second that I’m with you count. I never want to forget this, Maxwell Lord.” you smiled, pulling him down to kiss you again. He moaned as your tongues intertwined and he guided his large hands over your frame.

As you made out, you relished the way he touched you and your bodies moved together in sync. It was like they were made for each other. That Zeus had sculpted you to fit with Maxwell Lord; to be with him, guide him, and love him when he didn’t feel loved. Maxwell had always laughed off the concept of ‘soulmates’, seeing himself as nothing more than an independent, stone cold businessman. But maybe, after all this time, he was wrong. In the past week he’d learned so much about himself, and what really mattered. You were teaching him that it was okay to rely on others for comfort and affection.

You reminded yourself of the reason you were in Greece. You had to focus on obtaining the dreamstone. It was important, but with this clash of tongues and teeth and Maxwell Lord on top of you, it was easy to forget about why you had come to Athens in the first place. Sure, destroying the remaining dreamstone was important, but so was Maxwell.

“There’s something I want to know,” you huffed, drawing away from him for just a second to regain your breath. “During my time studying the world of man, I took particular interest in family and babies, probably due to me being the goddess of home and hearth. I spent a lot of time studying babies and… how they’re made. The history books describe it as beautiful. An indescribable pleasure that you know I’ve never experienced before. There are no men on Themyscira. But I want to feel it. I want to feel the pleasure and I want you to show me. Please Max. Show me.” you whispered, bucking your hips upwards and rolling yourself over his crotch. You’d thought about it a lot, maybe even just as much as he’d thought about you in that way. You already knew you trusted him, especially with something like this. 

His brown eyes turned a whole shade darker with lust as he slid his hands under your shirt.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, wanting to make absolute sure you certainly wanted this.

“I am,” you confirmed. “But only if you want to too.”

“I do,” Maxwell nodded, his lips curving into a smile. “Believe me, I really do.” 

You grinned ecstatically, kissing him again and moaning into his mouth when he squeezed your breast, just like he'd done the previous night when you were both making out in his bed. He knew you liked it. “Let me take this off,” Maxwell groaned and you nodded, stretching your arms in the air so he could pull your shirt off you. “Fuck, you're so perfect.” he whispered to himself, as he stared down at your bare chest. He leaned in and kissed between the valley of your breasts. He peppered kisses along the soft plushness and licked a stripe along your hardening nipple. As he cared for your breast with his lips, he fondled your other breast with his hand, squeezing it lovingly before switching it up again. He was so skilled at this. He knew all the right ways to make you feel good.

Soon, you began to feel that familiar fire heat up in your core. The same fire you had felt when you were kissing him in his own bed. Your new panties felt like they were soaked with your arousal as he peppered kisses down your stomach and to the hem of your pants. “How do you feel?” Max asked you, looking up with concern. He just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this. He cared about you so much.

"Nervous, but excited," you exclaimed. "Will- will it hurt?"

"It might, just a little. Might be slightly uncomfortable at first. But if it gets too much you can tell me, okay?" Maxwell reassured, kissing the lobe of your ear. "I'd never ever want to hurt you honey."

"I know," you smiled, running your fingers through his soft locks of hair. "But first, let me take care of you."

Unsure what you even meant, Maxwell doubled back. You were new to this, inexperienced, and yet he found himself intrigued by what you meant when you said 'take care'. You shuffled out from beneath him and kneeled on the mattress. You unbuttoned Maxwell's shirt and tossed it on the floor, and then unzipped his pants. As you pulled down the silver zipper, you noticed the imprint of his bulge pressed against the tight tailored pants. It was long, thick, and achingly hard, precum already beading at his tip. You subconsciously licked your lips and Maxwell chuckled over your eagerness. It was adorable. But his laughter was cut short into a choked moan as you traced the shape of it through the material, gently with your index finger. "You look so big…" you trailed off, biting your lip nervously. 

"Take off my pants and find out." Maxwell urged and you nodded your head. You pulled down his pants and his cock sprung free, bouncing against his tummy. The head was dark pink in colour and already leaking.

“Wow…” you gasped, wiping his precum and letting it wet your hand before wrapping your fingers around his length and starting to pump him. He tossed his head back and moaned wantonly, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

“You really don’t have to-” Maxwell stiffened up as you kitten-licked the tip of his cock. You let your fingers stroke the base and play with his balls as wrapped your lips around his thickness. “-I-fuck. This is your first-first time. I want to make you feel good.”

You pulled your lips off him with a pop and looked at him with doe eyes. “This feels good for me. Tastes good too.” you promised before sinking your mouth back down onto him, deeper this time. He stretched your mouth so wide your jaw began to ache and you gagged around him. You bopped your head up and down, loving the way his fingers tugged on your hair and the way he bucked his hips deeper into your throat.

“Won’t last,” Maxwell warned. “Fuck. Pull off.” he gasped for breath and you followed his instruction, removing your lips from his throbbing length. He wished he could’ve just spilled his seed down your throat but he wanted to make this as memorable as possible for you. It wasn’t just going to be a quick blowjob. You deserved more.

“How was it?” you asked, pouting your swollen lips. Maxwell leaned in and kissed you, tasting his own saltiness on your tongue.

“Perfect,” he sighed lovingly. “You’re perfect.”

Max gently pushed you down amongst the sheets and discarded the rest of your clothes so you were laying in bed completely naked. He pressed his hand on the apex of your thigh and opened up your legs. His cock jumped when he looked down at your glistening folds. You were already so wet for him and he’d hardly even touched you.

Maxwell kissed up the inside of your thighs, revelling in the softness of your skin. He knew he’d never be able to forget this. As he neared your core, your heart began to race with anticipation. Max pressed a soft kiss into your clit and you let out a gasp that you didn’t even realise you were holding back. You felt Max smirk against you and he separated your folds with his two thumbs. Now that you were completely spread open for him, he began to lick you up and down, his cock twitching as he tasted you. He’d eaten the widest variety of expensive desserts in his lifetime, but you were by far the most delicious thing he’d devoured. Everytime his tongue flicked upwards against your clit, your entire body would involuntarily quiver. He loved it. He loved watching you become putty under his touch. 

He decided to focus more of his mouth on your clit and began to quickly flick his tongue over your bundle of nerves before sucking on it. His moans sent vibrations straight through you and he noticed how your hole began to clench over nothing. He was desperate to fill you up. To feel you. But he had to prep you first. He didn’t stop with the licking, but he did nudge a finger over your hole. You pushed your hips closer to him, wanting more.

“I’m going to finger you now, is that okay?” Maxwell asked, pulling off you. His lips shone with your slick and you swore he had never looked so beautiful.

“Yes please.” you whimpered.

“If it gets too much, tell me.” Maxwell whispered before reattaching his lips to your pussy and poking his index finger into your entrance. He kissed your clit one last time before pulling away and pushing his finger deep into you. He flushed pink as your soft walls tightened around his finger, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he replaced his finger with his cock. He watched you in awe, thrusting his finger in and out of you, experimenting and curling it upwards until he was satisfied that he’d located your g-spot. “Sweet girl,” he moaned, watching you intently as you brought your free hand down to rub your clit as he fingered you. “I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You moaned something incoherent but Maxwell felt his heart race as he took in your appearance. You were a sight he could never forget - all spread out for him, your back arched in pleasure. He pushed his middle finger inside of you, as well as his index finger, and you squealed with pleasure as he stretched you open.

“Oh Max, oh fuck Max.” you whined as obscene wet noises filled the room. He loved the way you said his name. He always had. This whole experience felt like a dream come true.

“So fucking beautiful.” he growled before ducking his head back in between your thighs and continuing to eat you out. With the combination of his tongue and fingers, it wasn’t long at all until your climax washed over you.

Maxwell pulled off you and reached down to stroke his own cock which was achingly hard, desperate for any kind of relief. “I want you inside of me.” you begged, reaching out to pull Max on top of you.

Maxwell leaned over you, propping himself up on his elbows and you shivered as his cock nudged against your entrance. He rolled his hips up and down, his tip rubbing against your folds. He was teasing. You grabbed onto his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin. “Please Max,” you panted. ��Make love to me.”

Maxwell moaned at your words and pressed a quick peck to your soft lips before obliging and pushing himself into you.

"How does that feel?" Maxwell murmured, his breath fanning over your neck as he sat himself deep inside of you. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock as waves of pleasure jolted through your body. You knew that the tales had described intercourse as pleasurable but you never imagined it could feel so good.

"I feel so full," you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as your walls adjusted to his length. Max knew the second he started moving he wouldn’t be able to last long. He’d imagined this so much. He’d gone so long without sex. And you were so fucking perfect. "Move, please."

"Ngh— fuck, are you sure?" Maxwell asked, giving your breasts a gentle squeeze. You nodded and Max doubled out slightly before pushing himself back in with a wanton groan. He felt your cunt clench around him. "So fucking tight." he whispered. You bit your lip, wondering what it meant to be ‘tight’ and hoping he was enjoying it as much as you were.

"Is that okay?" You asked, holding onto his bicep for support as he pushed a few shallow thrusts into you.

"More- more than ‘okay’ honey. You’re amazing." He mumbled, his eyes snapping shut. You gasped as you felt every perfect ridge and vein rub against the inside of your walls. "You feel so perfect, sweet girl."

Max brought his hand down to your cunt and began to circle your clit with his thumb, mirroring your own previous actions. The pleasure flooded through your body and you arched your back as he hit your sweet spot. "Mmm," you couldn't even find words. You found your toes curling and your mouth slack as he throbbed inside of you. His fingers worked at you like magic and it wasn't long until your legs began to involuntarily shake. Max could feel your oncoming high too, when your pussy walls squeezed his cock, aching to milk him for all he had. 

"Are you close baby girl?" Maxwell asked, his thumb speeding up and his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. “Oh you are, aren’t you?”

"Maaaax," you groaned, feeling your juices drip down his manhood as he fucked you faster, his balls slapping against your cunt.

"I'm close," He warned, gently biting down on your shoulder. "I'm going to count down from three and- and I want you to let go. Relax. Cum with me." Max ordered and you nodded your head against his sticky, sweaty skin.

"O-okay," you gasped.

"Three, two, one- fuck!" Maxwell exclaimed when your body limped in his arms and your pussy contracted around him, twitching as you reached your climax. He spilled his salty seed inside of you, painting your walls just like he'd painted the bathroom tiles when he'd masturbated over the thought of you previously.

“Oh my- Max, Max, Max,” you chanted as he slowly softened inside you before pulling out. You whimpered at the loss of his fullness and Maxwell rolled off you. You both spent a few moments to regain your breath and you felt his cum leak out of you. You curled up into his tan chest and pressed a kiss into his pink lips. “Thank you Max.” you whispered with gratitude, bumping your nose with his.

He was so in love with you, there was no question about it. If he could, he’d spend the rest of his life doing that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The thought of you leaving him was eating Max alive. Maxwell wrapped his arm around you and held you tight, just like he’d done so on the airplane. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but if you were leaving, it might just make things worse. He leaned over to the nightstand and switched off the lamp.

“Goodnight honey.” he whispered as the room became enveloped with darkness.

“Goodnight Max.”

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