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keijislove · 4 years ago

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I hate you: Peter Maximoff X Reader

A/N: Never really written for marvel before... But I'm a big fan of X men and Avengers... Hope you like it!!!

Anybody who knew you was probably aware that you were unusual. Of course you were unusual, you were a mutant. But even as a mutant you were admittedly weird. People were freaked out by you at Charles' school, no matter how hard you tried to make friends with them. And who should be the first person to approach you but the arrogant, annoying dickwad more commonly known as Peter Maximoff?

To say the boy had the biggest ego you'd ever seen was a complete and utter understatement. His head was so far up his own ass it honestly amazed you. And he was quick (like always) you figure out what annoys you most as well. Let's just say that someone stealing your textbooks and zooming off out of reach with them is not the most tolerable thing ever.

Yet here you were - not knowing how you'd gotten yourself into such a bizarre situation.

Raven was famous for her raucous end of semester parties for the kids and staff, but this one was worse thank you'd ever imagined. There wasn't a sober soul in this room and everyone, if not completely drunk, was tipsy. After hearing Scott declare you were to now call him Squidward for the rest of your life, you decided that you'd had enough.

You went out to the balcony, slowly sipping in your water, feeling more disgruntled than ever. To add to this wonderful evening, someone cleared their throat next to you, a very loud someone. Groaning internally, you turned around.

"Heyyyyy." Peter slurred, shooting you a grin that was admittedly adorable yet annoying.

"Hi." you curtly responded.

"You aren't inside with everyone else." he pouted.

"I like sober people, thanks." you muttered.

"You look so pretty tonight." he said, causing you to scoff, "Like you always do, but still. Pretty."

"If you're expecting me to say that you're pretty too then piss off, snowflake."

Peter giggled. This conversation was evidently going nowhere and you wanted to leave. But since you'd never seen him so tipsy, you decided to stay for blackmail material.

"I like coconuts." Peter declared.

"This is interesting." you smirked, "Wait till you're sober, Maximoff. I won't let you forget any of this."

"And this?" he asked.

You suddenly realised how close you were standing. Holy shit, you wanted to run away screaming. His breath was hot on your face and you got the distinct scent of alcohol which made you dizzy. Not knowing what the heck was going on, you suddenly felt his lips on yours. For a second, you closed your eyes. Then you remembered yourself and pulled away, gasping.

"I - you - no - what the -" you sputtered, flustered.

"I wanna sleeeeeeeep." he mumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder.

"Yes you do." you muttered, turning on your heel and walking away, stunned.

~~~~~

"So you're not gonna talk to him about it?" Jean asked you the following day as you confided in her.

"What? No!" you cried, "What for?"

"This looks bad, Y/N." Jean muttered, "You should talk."

"He wouldn't want to talk to me anyway." you snapped.

"Why not?"

"Because he is a first class arrogant bastard."

"Still-"

""He probably doesn't remember -"

But you stopped, catching sight of Jean's face which seemed to have gone momentarily an odd shade of green. You glanced, confused, at what caused this reaction and felt sickened yourself.

Peter Maximoff was striding across the lawn - not running, striding, with a furious look on his face. He spotted you and charged for you like an angry bull, not looking away.

"We - need - to - talk - NOW." he said in one breath.

"Can you talk? I didn't notice." you snapped.

"This isn't funny Y/N, I'm serious."

Well those were words you'd never expected him to say, let alone call you Y/N. Glancing at Jean for help, you wanted to smack her as she looked away. Helpless, you followed the silver haired boy across the garden into the building.

When you reached a secluded corridor, he cleared his throat.

"So, um, I uh.... I got drunk last night and... I said something..."

"Screw say, you did something as well." you glared.

"I don't really remember -"

"OF COURSE YOU DON'T!" you yelled, snapping at last, "WHY WOULD YOU REMEMBER KISSING ME AND THEN LEAVING LIKE AN ASSHOLE? WHY WOULD YOU REMEMBER MAKING MY LIFE HELL AND THEN TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME?!"

"I WHAT?" he yelled, shocked, "I kissed -?"

"Yes!" you yelled, "And if you're here to rub it in my face then fuck off!"

"I-I'm sorry."

Okay that was unexpected. Why the hell was he apologising? Why was he confusing you so much? Could he not give you a break?

"For WHAT?" you snapped.

"Frmoofndngtswy..." he mumbled.

"What?" you asked in spite of yourself.

"For you finding out this way," he muttered more clearly.

This was a dream right? Was Peter Maximoff blushing?!

"Find wha-?"

He cut you off by suddenly grabbing your jaw and slamming his lips onto yours with a passion so strong you had to melt against him. You broke apart seconds later, panting.

"I don't know if you noticed... But I like you," he shyly muttered.

You didn't know what to say and he continued, "I know that I've been a bit of a pain in the ass but..."

"I hate you," you muttered, "I like you too, dork."

A dorky grin spread across his face at your words.

"Also, you told me that you liked coconuts."

He groaned.

#Peter Maximoff #Peter Maximoff X reader #X men imagine #X men x you #X men x reader #X men x yn #Peter Maximoff X you #Peter Maximoff imagine #Peter Maximoff X yn #Fluff #Angst

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

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“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Summary: Dick has a nightmare that has him screaming in the middle of the night, and really struggles to accept the help of his younger brothers. His younger brothers don't really give a shit about that particular struggle of his, and stay with him even when he tells them to leave.

Word count: 1324

TW: Nightmares (No description of it in the story though)

Notes: Hello! I had this sitting in my file for a long time actually. I don't know why it took me so long to post it, tbh, but that's why I didn't include Duke, I still wasn't all that comfortable writing him a couple of months ago. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Link for it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037658

Tim heard a noise coming from his brother’s room as he walked back from the kitchen. At first he thought it was one of those noises you simply ignore, but something made him stop dead on his tracks and listen. Another weird grunt, bed creaks, and heavy breathing. Okay, that did sound too much like a noise you’d ignore. But then it got a bit louder, and he heard a small ‘no’ being mumbled. He thought about what to do, until he heard Dick screaming.

After the noise ceased, he knocked on the door and opened it slightly.

“Dick? Are you okay?”

He was sitting up on his bed, accelerated breaths and a thin layer of sweat covered his body.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He answered, running a hand down his face “Can you... Can you hit the lights for me?”

“Sure.” Tim clicked on the lightswich, making the room brighter.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No problem. Also, you didn’t wake me up, I was coming back from the kitchen and heard you.” He walked in the room “Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Dick hugged his knees. Tim sat down on the bed “It’s okay, You don’t have to stay here. I’m fine.”

Tim blinked.

“You can’t be serious.” He said.

“I’m a grown man, I can handle this type of shit.” Dick shot back, still curled in on himself. He knew his posture made the previous statement sound extremely unconvincing, but he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it alone. C’mon man, Jason’s like, only two years younger than you, and you never let him sleep alone after a nightmare. Let me help.”

“Grayson,” Damian asked from the door, holding his pillow “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Am I a circus show now?” Dick asked, a little annoyed.

“I mean, you are a circus freak.” Jason showed up, voice still raspy and face smushed by the pillow “C’mon devilspaw, walk in, I wanna sit.”

“Don’t call me that, Todd.” Damian shot back but complied anyways, too sleepy to defend his honor, following his older brothers and sitting on the bed “Do you need us to get you some water?” He asked, eyes half closed.

“No, I’m fine.” He answered “You don’t have to stay here guys.”

“Stop being an idiot Dickie, that doesn’t suit you.” Jason laid down “’Sides, this bed is huge. It can definetly fit us all comfortably.”

“I’m gonna go get you some water.” Tim annouced, standing up.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jason asked, hands under his head.

“Not really.” Dick answered.

“Okay then.”

“Your room is filthy, Grayson.” Damian said, looking at the pile of clothes on top of a chair.

“Shut up. Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me right now?”

“I think this is as nice as he gets.” Jason answered, snickering. Damian didn’t say anything as he hit his brother’s face with a pillow.

“Uhm, hi.” Bruce said, standing awkwardly in the door step “I heard a scream. Is everything okay, boys?”

“Yeah.” Dick nodded. Everyone was quiet for a second before Damian sighed, slightly annoyed.

“He had a nightmare, father. We’re taking care of him now.”

“Oh.” Bruce blinked. He stepped into the room and kissed the top of Dick’s head “Are you okay son?”

“I’m getting there.” Dick smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to stay here? Or maybe... If you want to, you can sleep in my room. Like when you did back when you were about this big.” Bruce smiled as he placed an open palm next to his waist to illustrate exactly how big.

“I’m fine, B.” Dick grinned up at the sleepy man, who now caressed his hair, absent minded. Dick enjoyed the touch, but knew the only thing that lead Bruce to be so open and generous with his physical demonstrations of love was his sleep deprivation reaching such a critical level that he could barely think. A whole new level of lack of self care. Still, Dick sighed, taking in the last contact he could before it ended, and said “You should go to bed. I can tell you haven’t rested properly in a while.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Aham.”

“Then I’ll go. Good Night boys.”

“’Night dad.” Jason, Dick and Tim answered.

“Good night father” Damian answered.

Tim rolled his eyes at the boy and handed Dick the water glass he had taken. His brother swallowed it down in no time. Jason scratched his back gently, making him more relaxed, and Tim played with his hair for a while. Damian rested his cheek on Dick’s shoulder, hugging his arm.

“Thanks guys.” He said.

“No worries.” Jason answered for the three of them “Can we turn off the lights now?”

“Are you... Planning on staying here?”

“-tt-. Obviously.” Damian rolled his eyes “You never leave any of us alone after a nightmare, do you think we’d abandon you now?”

“Guys, you don’t have to...”

“But we want to.” Tim cut him off “Would it kill you to let us help? Even a little bit?”

“It’s not that. I just... I feel like I’m putting a burden on your shoulders now.”

“C’mon Dickie, you’re no burden.” Jason said caringly.

“Yeah. Besides,” Tim chimmed in “I’m pretty sure this isn’t even the first time you woke up in the middle of the night over a bad dream. It’s just the first night you screamed, so it’s the first time we could help.” Dick frowned a little “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right. You know that you can come to us for help, right?”

The man looked down, quiet.

“I... I’m the one that’s supposed to be helping you. I’m the oldest brother. I should take care of you, not the other way around.” He said.

“Dickie, with all due respect and full offense, what the fuck kinda backwards ass, absolute clown logic is that?” Jason shot back “We’re brothers. We help each other out, no matter the ages.”

“You can lean on us, Dick.” Damian said. Tim nodded.

“Just barge into our rooms when you need to, like we do with you.”

“Yeah.” Jason spoke again “And you better start doing it more often now, jerk.”

Dick laughed a little.

“Okay, fine. I will. Just go back to scratching me though, it feels good.”

“I need to sleeeeeeeep!” Jason complained, scratching him again.

“Alright, alright, let’s sleep.” Dick laughed. Tim turned of the lights again, and they settled on the bed.

Dick slept on his back, and Jason curled up on his right side, scratching his arm. Tim settled on his left side, playing with his hair until he passed out. Damian laid on top of him, listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rising and falling as his brother breathed.

In the morning, they were a tangled mess of limbs and drool. Damian had, somehow, taken control of the bed, forcing the other three, much bigger boys, to smush against each other in one third of the mattress, his knees on Tim’s back. Tim was partly laying on top of the other two boys, body shaped like a ‘C’. There was a small drool puddle on Dick’s torso, and his feet were close to Jason’s arms. For some reason, the older boy held on to one of them through the night as if it was a stuffed animal. Jason’s legs were tangled with Dick’s, who had barely moved through the night, if you don’t count the several inches Damian pushed him to the right.

Alfred went up the stairs to wake the boys, but once he saw the scene, decided to call Bruce first, who may or may not have cried a little over his boys caring for each other, taking pictures he’d later fondly study and share with Clark.

(Dick was happy that his brothers cared, but not so much about the drool on his sleeping shirt.)

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brashierc · 6 years ago

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Waitin.

You've been best friends with Connor for years. It felt like you two had been conjoined at the hip your whole life, and practically you had been. Lately though, it’s been an adjustment for the both of you, with him touring with Shawn and you going to school straight out of High School.

Shawn had Brian on tour, Alessia had Olivia so it was only natural for Connor to fly you out the second your classes let out for summer.

You’ve been with him for a few shows now. Orlando is the next show, and you have a day to yourselves and it’s when you notice that something is up with Connor.

Connor is a quiet and shy kid, always has been. But with you? He’s more open, speaks freely about what’s on his mind, and isn’t shy to 2 am laughter.

Today, after an outing with Shawn at the beach that lasted about an hour for some publicity your noticing that Connor is curled into the corner of the couch in his room, phone in hand, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

You wander over, plopping yourself at the end of the couch where his feet are, nudging his leg to get his attention. He looks up with his eyes only. You both just stare at each other for a moment, communicating with your eyes, and when his start to water a little you stand, pushing him forward by his shoulder so you can slip behind him.

He sighs, turning onto his stomach so he can lay on you, rest his head in the crook between your neck and shoulder. You smile softly when he gets comfy, hands reaching up to scratch his back softly.

He hums when you add a little pressure, letting your hands glide all the way up to the top of his head and back down as far as you can reach down his back. He presses a soft kiss to your neck and snuggles deeper into you, letting your warmth and smell soothe his restless brain.

“I’m here when your ready Bubba.” You whisper into his ear, letting your eyes flutter shut.

His arms wrap around your waist, locking you closer against him. It’s like he can’t get close enough to you, he needs you wrapped around him, and he needs to be wrapped around you.

Your cheeks reddened when he reached back and moved your leg to curl around his. This is such an intimate position, and while this wasn’t the first time you’ve laid like this, you have feelings this go around that you shouldn’t be having for your best friend.

Lately he’s been a little clingier, a little touchier, and a little sweeter. You’ve chalked it up to Shawn’s personality rubbing off on him, but there’s the small voice in the back of your brain telling you that he might feel the same and that he means more than he probably does with these little moves he’s been pulling.

“My brain won’t stop racing.” He mutters.

“What’s it racing over?” You whisper, playing with his hair now.

“You.”

Your heart stops, and a cold chill runs down your whole body. You gulp and freeze in place.

“Brian has a crush on you.” He continues. “Last night, at the arena, when you stopped to say hi before heading to your seats with Manny,” He groans a little, “You were in that pretty dress, the one I picked out when you were online shopping.”

You nod, knowing what you wore, and smiling at the memory of shopping with Connor over facetime, letting him log into your account on a clothing website so he could pick out some outfits for you.

“You’re so pretty in that dress.” He sighs, pulling back at little to peer at you with those big blue eyes. “Anyway, you left to go to your seats and Brian wouldn’t shut the fuck up about you.”

You pull back a little, brows furrowed. “So that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.” He drops his head to your shoulder, groaning.

“Wow, thanks Con.” You start to shift under him, not grasping what he was trying to say.

That little voice in your head telling you that he was into you as well now making a 180 switch and asking you how you could ever think he might like you.

The second you start to move he’s reacting, suddenly hearing himself and how you’re taking what he’s just said.

“No,” He holds you tighter so you can’t move. “It’s a bad thing because you’re my girl.” He whispers, waiting for you to react.

You gasp and look at him, blue eyes bright and staring straight into your soul. “I’m what?”

“You’re my girl.”

You smile, cheeks pink, body buzzing in excitement.

“I almost punched him,” Connor goes on. “Talking about you in ways only I want to do. Talking this game like, ‘Connor bro I’m gonna ask her out, she’s so hot.’ Like no you’re not, she’s mine. And like yeah you’re hot, but fuck you’re gorgeous and beautiful and you deserve someone who’s gonna tell you that everyday.”

“You do tell me everyday.” You trace his nose so he’ll finally snap out of his rant and realize he’s there, with you.

He blinks three times before it clicks, before his brain tells him that he just told you that he has feelings for you.

“Gonna kiss me or not Bubba?” You grin at him, giggling nervously.

He sighs in relief, leaning forward and capturing your lips in the softest kiss. He’s gentle, polite and a perfect gentleman leaving it at just a kiss and not taking it too far too fast.

“You’re my girl?” He asks softly when he pulls away.

“I’ve always been your girl Bubba.” You smile, leaning up and kissing him again.

“Good Morning Gorgeous.” Connor kisses your bare shoulder, arms securely holding you.

“Morning.” You breathe out, eyes still shut, back against his chest as he kisses a line of kisses up your neck.

“Just got a message from Shawn, he wants to meet up with Brian for breakfast after the gym.”

“What time is it?” You ask.

“5.”

“Connor!” You whine, burrowing yourself further into the sheets. “It’s too fucking early.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to get a ‘Good Morning Kiss’ before I get ready for the gym.”

You roll over, huffing as you claw yourself out of the sheets, peaking an eye at him. He looks heavenly. Morning sun making his slightly tanned skin glow, hair tousled from your romp in the sheets, lips swollen from you biting on them.

“Good morning.” You lean up and peck his lips.

He smiles, cheeks pink. “Best morning ever.” He exhales, flopping onto his back.

“I wanna go back to sleep, can I?” You whine, lips pouted at him.

He grins, leaning up and pecking your lips four more times before nodding and clambering out of bed. “Sleep Gorgeous, I’ll come get you when we’re done with the gym.”

It was 8 by the time Connor was back and dragging you down to meet the boys at the nice continental breakfast the hotel you were staying at offered. Connor was giggling at your grumpy morning face, promising you they had iced coffee at the counter and that he’d make your plate.

“I wanna sleeeeeeeep.” You whined, leaning into him as the elevator door closed.

“You’re so cute in the morning.”

“Connor, you woke me up so early, you kept me up so late. I’m tired.” You were pouting, and totally aware that you were acting like a child, but he was eating it up so you didn’t mind your childish ways.

“We’ll take a nap today, okay?” He wraps a strand of your hair around his ringed finger, letting you lean into him. “I already did a shoot with Shawn this morning after the gym, the sunrise was beautiful so we used that as the backdrop. But since we already did the shoot I’ve got the afternoon free until I need to be there at the final soundcheck. We’ll nap, and cuddle.”

You nod into his chest, smiling when he kissed your forehead. You lean your head up, puckering your lips, eyes closed, asking for a kiss. He gladly gives you what you want, pulling away when the elevator door opened.

He lead you to the table Shawn was already sitting at, fingers tangled with yours, dropping you off at a seat, kissing the top of your head before going to get you your coffee and breakfast.

Shawn looks up, watching Connor walk away from you and then glancing at your blushed complexion. “Hi.” He smiles. “That was new.” He nods towards Connor.

“Um, yeah.” You sit up straighter, playing with the strings of the hoodie you’re wearing.

“And you’re in his hoodie.” Shawn hums, sipping at his cup of tea.

You look down and blush harder at the fact that you were in Connor’s hoodie, he must of done that on purpose when he offered it for you.

“This is gonna be a fun morning.” Shawn grins into his cup as he watches Brian walk over and take the seat next to him.

You look over your shoulder at Connor, he’s buttering toast for you.

“Y/n, hey.” Brian says catching your attention.

“Bri,” Shawn starts but Brian shoots him a glare that shuts him up with a soft chuckle.

“Y/n I was gonna ask if you had any plans this afternoon?” Brian asks you, sitting up straight in his seat.

You inhale, eyes flickering to Shawn’s that are now focused on something behind you.

“Yeah she’s busy.” Connor says, sliding your plate in front of you, and setting your coffee down with a kiss to your cheek. “Iced coffee, and I noticed they had some french vanilla creamer so I put a small pour of that in there for you.”

“Thank you Bubba.” You smile up at him.

Brian stares at the two of you with furrowed brows. Shawn’s just laughing, shaking his head at the situation.

Connor shoots Brian a glare before he walks off to get his own breakfast.

“Brian,” You say softly.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “I should have known.”

“I’m sorry,” You cringe, feeling so uncomfortable.

“Don’t be, it’s okay.” He shakes his head.

“It’s just,” You sigh, looking over at Connor for a moment and then back to Shawn and Brian. “I’ve been in love with him for a long time, and this is new, and things were said last night. But,” You giggle. “Brian, I kind of have to thank you.”

“What?” He and Shawn say at the same time.

“I guess you said something about me at the last show,” Brian blushes so hard his ears turn red. “But whatever you said kicked his ass into gear, because,” You look over and smile when you catch him staring at you. “Now we’re something.” You shrug.

“You guys are cute, that’s for sure.” Shawn nods.

Connor walks back and takes the seat next to you, noticing you haven’t touched your food yet. “What’s wrong? Did I forget something?” He asks.

“No,” You shake your head. “Was waitin on you.”

He smiles, staring at you. “Waitin on me?”

“Have been for awhile.” You shrug, giggling as Shawn and Brian choke on their food at burn you just threw Connor’s way.

“Yeah well,” Connor shrugs, leaning closer to you, “I wanted to make sure everything was perfect.”

Written by: @shawnm521

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not-so-mashed-potato · 5 years ago

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It's actually the dead of the night and it will soon be early morning but I till haven't slept and Tomorrow/today is Monday and I need sleep so g'night

Psychology Daily - Quotes

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fanfictrashdump · 4 years ago

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Queening a Pawn, 14

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Notes: I can’t sleeeeeeeep. :/

Delilah sat on the floor of her apartment, art notebook in one hand and colored pencils in another. She was carefully positioned between Loki's long legs, the man in question having sat himself down while she quietly worked and perched his chin onto her shoulder. Loki had wandered over to her flat a little after noon, a pair of clippers in hand, hoping to get Lilah to shorn off his growing locks. He had found her so intensely focused on her task, an impressive portrait of Brunnhilde wielding Dragonfang, that he had made no noise, and instead joined her on the floor to observe.

Every now and again, Lilah would reach behind her and caress Loki's cheek while she thought about what lines to work on next. In return, he would place a lingering kiss on hers and simply basked in the warmth of her being. It was a quiet existence, but comfortable. Then again, neither of them did terribly well with talking, but no one could deny the fact that their interactions clicked together perfectly– or at least they would if anyone were to see them.

"More shade?" She asked, softly, her voice gravelly from disuse.

Loki ghosted his fingers over the paper to the lower left corner. "Around this part of the cape, perhaps."

Lilah hummed her agreement and switched to a 6B pencil to darken her shadows. He pressed another kiss to her temple for good measure, only half paying attention to a book he held open in his left hand with the intention to while away the time. A knock broke them both out of their reverie with an unwelcome start.

"Are you expecting anyone?"

"No, I'm not," she replied, frowning.

"I'll get rid of them for you." Without waiting for a response (not that one was coming), he leapt to his feet, and crossing to the door. He opened it wide without checking the peephole a minute later.

A woman, short, mid fifties stared at Loki with the same emerald green shade he loved so much in Delilah. Kin?

There was a long stretch of silence between them, before the woman found her voice and sneered at the Aesir. "You." With a barely hidden growl, she swung with her handbag at Loki, forcing him to hop backwards with a yelp.

Definitely kin.

"Pardon me, madam, but what are you doing?" Loki demanded between blows of the overstuffed bag.

The protest was enough to get Delilah to look up, causing her to double-take at the sight before her. "Mom? What the hell?" Lilah's mother started yelling at her daughter in what seemed to be very fast-paced Spanish while still taking swings at the dark-haired demigod.

"What is he doing here!?" Her mother demanded, screaming.

"He's my friend!" Lilah grabbed her mother's arms and backed her up. "Stop. Stop!"

"I'm very confused. Not surprised, but very confused," Loki announced over the din of yelling, slowly, letting his hands lower from their defensive stance.

"Just when you had done us all the favor of dying you–"

"Mom, stop!" She jumped into an argument, matching her mother's volume and fierceness with little effort. "Lo, could you give us a minute?"

"I won't leave you alone, if that's what you're suggesting," he ground out. His sea glass eyes were set unwaveringly on the older woman and at the flushed cheeks of her anger. Despite the voice in his head bellowing that this was the perfect moment to make a disappearing act, he was reticent to leave Delilah's side. His body was flighty, adept at misdirection and survival, but his mind was torn. Mostly because he was curious about why the woman was so cross at him to begin with. Other than him being, you know, himself.

"Why?" The woman seethed. Apparently he had been musing aloud and while Delilah groaned and hung her head in a sentiment close to exasperation, her mother looked even angrier, if possible. "You lead a whole army of aliens into the city, kill hundreds, ruin the lives of millions… and you ask why?"

Loki felt foolish for the rogue thought even popping into his head, but he stuttered it out, regardless. "I just… I wanted to know whether you hated me on p-principle or…," he struggled for a better phrase, "something more specific?" Delilah had raised her head to stare at him with a hint of a smirk on her face– even at his most awkward, Loki never stuttered. "Usually it's more specific. I don't tend to agree with the public and I cause a general sense of discomfort around most, but more often than not people can mention an isolated incident they take issue with." Her grin grew–he definitely never rambled. "I can't remember most that have been brought to my attention the last two months, but–"

"Shut up!" Loki snapped his mouth shut, taking a half-step backwards at the harshness of the mother's tone. "Your father must be turning in his grave watching you interacting with this scum." Loki's eyes cut quickly to Delilah, silently asking the dreaded question while managing to not say a word. She shook her head in the negative in response and he breathed a little sigh of relief.

"Dad understood what happened."

"Your father lost everything because of him– his job, our savings, his sleep, his will to live... Do I need to remind you how we lived after the attack?"

Lilah hesitated, switching her gaze between Loki and her mother before responding. "Now's not the time, Mom." Her mother ignored her.

"My husband was an engineer. He had a good job in the city until you destroyed the office building and killed the man who owned the company. Everyone was hurting, reconstructing. We tried our best to get our lives back together, but no company was hiring, our home was destroyed, and our savings were dwindling." She had turned to face Loki in all her rage, and he stood motionless, with his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Delilah had been accepted to Yale and we couldn't even afford to send her to SUNY. Hell, we could afford a ratty one bedroom apartment or proper meals or decent clothes. She worked two jobs to help out. Gave up on her dream school, on her whole damn future, because you wanted to play King of the World for a d–"

"OK. That's enough," Delilah grumbled, skimming past Loki to drag her mother out of the apartment.

They were gone for a long time. Loki set to pacing the living room in a tight circuit. When that became tedious, he turned to the abandoned sketchbook. Within its pages he saw portraits of nearly everyone in the Compound. The Avengers in their heyday, in various states of being. A good amount of them were done while the subjects were focused on something else, entirely. He came across a picture of himself, legs kicked up on the table as he balanced on the back legs of his chair and read. He was older, his hair longer, wilder, and his cheekbones stood out in sharp relief.

A few dozen pages later, there was another of him in a similar position, but this time he was smirking as he looked over the cover at her with a predatory stare. He could only guess at the thoughts in that being's head. Though, considering they involved Delilah they were anything but pure. Another sketch, still, had him hunched over his daggers with a whetstone. His hair was shorn short and though he looked to be carefully sharpening his blades, he wore a secretive smile, knowing full well he was being observed and basking in the attention. Whether she had chosen to be more forgiving with the shading in the last one or he had simply learned how to relax his expression was still up for debate.

The front door clicked open, pulling Loki's attention.

Delilah looked more tired than anything else. He didn't say a word when she quietly padded across the floor, and fell into the seat beside him, gaze distant and unfocused. He hesitated reaching out for her, settling for brushing the side of his hand against her own. With a half groan, her shoulders slumped and she teetered sideways until her whole side rested against his. His lips grazed her crown seemingly out of habit.

There was a long stretch of silence before Delilah quipped. "Oh, I never introduced you two. That's rude of me."

"Your mother certainly needs no introduction, pet." Something inside him fluttered at the tiny smile he received in exchange for the term of endearment. "And I suspect you should have waited until after she had gotten over the murderous rage."

"If it hasn't faded in nearly twelve years, I don't think it ever will," she replied maneuvering his arm around her shoulders and settling against his chest. For a long moment she watched the conflict boiling just under the surface, watching the cogs in his head move and click in kind. She groaned. "Please don't."

"Lilah..." His voice carried the urgency of his unsaid request.

"I was having such a great day. Can't we just go back to it?"

Loki dragged his fingers through her gentle waves, skimming her scalp so soothingly she practically purred. "You know I will just ask FRIDAY, later." He tilted her chin so their eyes could meet. "How much worse can it get?"

"It just…ripples, you know... it wasn't just death you brought to the city. Tony helped rebuild most of New York, honestly, but there was hundreds of industries destroyed and people lost their factories, their start-ups, their jobs, their livelihoods– again, Tony employed as many people as he physically could. It was just too much for just him to deal with."

"How does that get to you?"

Delilah sighed. "Dad was a civil engineer. The firm he worked for got destroyed. It was a family company and the owner died in the attack. He couldn't find a new job for the longest time." Though she had fully intended to stop there, Loki stared at her expectantly until she crumbled. "I was seventeen years old and was set to go to Yale university in the Fall. It's a very good private school; expensive, but I had gotten a partial scholarship and my parents agreed to pay for the rest."

"Education isn't free here?"

Lilah laughed, a little drily. "No, but that is a debate for another day."

"This is what passes for civilized society on this planet?"

"You tried to invade us with war-mongering cyberaliens," she retorted, deadpan.

Loki hesitated in speaking before he acquiesced. "Fair point well made."

"Anyway, with no money coming in, the plan wasn't feasible, anymore. I looked for work, which is how I ended up at STARK industries. I was decent at coding and was easily trainable, but mostly I would stubbornly work at problems until I solved them and, let's face it, Tony loves the obsessive types. So after a year Tony decided he would pay for me to go to college. As long as I kept my grades up and didn't fall grossly behind on work, he would pay for everything. I finished my bachelor's early and did a PhD shortly after." She sighed when she caught sight of Loki's worriedly furrowed brow. "It was rough while we were still getting it together. Before I got to Tony, I waited tables and scrubbed floors for a couple of months. We barely scraped by that time."

"And you still speak to me?"

"The way I figure, if Odin had managed to hug you once in your goddamn life, you would've turned out to be his most valuable asset. Thor agrees. You can't really judge a person on what they do in a moment of desperation. I'm not saying anything you did was right –you fucking psycho– but that's not everything you are." Loki was staring at the floor as he worked his jaw, offering no additional response. "I thought, at least, I would get a chuckle out of calling you a fucking psycho."

He cut his eyes at her. "Do truths warrant a laugh?"

"Are you still the same foolish boy who just wants to impress his father?"

"I was only Odin's pawn," he replied, a little offended.

Lilah laughed. "Yeah, pawns don't get royal titles and cushy rooms in the palace, you dork." She nudged his side when he didn't make any noise or expression.

"I apologize," he mumbled a great deal later.

Delilah looked up from the sketchbook with a frown. "For what?"

"The attack. For allowing my stupid feelings of inadequacy–"

Her hand came over his mouth, smearing soot from her pencils onto his pale skin. "OK, we're gonna have to do something about the self-deprecation."

His own hand reached up to remove the muzzle. "Are we done covering me in graphite?"

"In which case?" She asked, looking between him and the sketch of himself frowning at the floor. The shadows had returned in full force, but it was different than in previous drawings. His whole demeanor looked worried and tightly wound rather than angry and plotting.

"Stop making my feelings valid!"

Delilah's eyes nearly bugged out, her whole body leaning backwards away from his booming voice. "Oh, wow. That's… so much more than I am trained to deal with…" She collected her thoughts for a few minutes before offering a response. "Lo, every decision you and I have made have landed us here. Do you not like being here?"

His hardened face turned vulnerably soft. "You know I do."

"I like being here, too. I would've never worked for Tony under any other circumstance and I'm good at what I do. I wouldn't be here if your feelings weren't every little bit as valid as mine, or my mother's. Feelings don't lose validity because they're complicated or messy."

"But the circumstances–"

"Are irrelevant." Delilah had gone back to drawing, her mouth set in a tight line.

Loki pouted. "Are you cross?" His hand rested on her shoulder. "Delilah."

"Does it matter if I am or not?" She did a double take when the sofa shifted beside her. "Where are you going?"

"To… anywhere else," he replied awkwardly, gesturing the door a little unsure.

Lilah narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "You really need to see a therapist, bud."

He hesitated again, looking at the door, then back at her. "So, I should…?"

She tossed the notebook beside her feet where it landed with a thud before patting the cushion beside her. He reluctantly took his seat, watching as she shifted to fit into his side. Her hand still held his after she slung his arm over her shoulders, absently trailing her fingertips over the small scars and freckles on his hand. The thought of her struggling made his heart constrict in the most painful of ways, at some point his eyes no longer could contain his tears. The second Delilah turned his palm to press a kiss into it was the moment he well and truly fell apart.

#Loki #Loki MCU #Marvel #MCU #MCU fanfic #MCU fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #alternate timeline #time heist #my writing

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thunder-the-ranger-wolf · 5 years ago

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Midnight thoughts 10/2/2019

I can't sleep so fuck it

I think i need more physical hobbies. So much of my time the past five or so years has been dominated by one screen or another. It's not necessarily a bad thing, because I've been doing different things with each screen, but sometimes it just feels like there's nothing to show for it.

wasted my mom's time, my time, the time of everyone I've ever come into contact with on top of driving us into some serious debt. Because college was... great. I loved the experiences I had and the people i came into contact with. If I had a bit more drive I would absolutely go back for another degree even if I couldn't stay on campus. The facilities were out in the middle of nowhere and there wasn't much to offer without some miles long drive but there were ways out and people were there no matter what. There was almost always some assignment to do or some conference or hackathon to go to or even just personal projects. Peok6threw their own small parties and that got people out of their rooms. I probably spent half my college years collectively in bed because some days I just... Couldn't do much. But the rest of the time was absolutely worth it. And I walked out with a degree. I graduated in May with one last class (passed with a B, woohoo!) So I have that degree. It'll come in the mail any day.

At some point earlier tonight i felt like I wasted my time in college, but writing all this out just made me realize that I'm overreacting. It's been not even half a year. I'm driving myself crazy because I still don't have structure.

Which is what it all fucking cycles back to, i swear to God. I better have fucking ADHD or whatever the hell i keep trying to tell my mom. Executive dysfunction isn't diagnosable but I wasa hot mess in college and I knew ot all the way through.

People are supposed to change in college, aren't they? Things are supposed to be different, for better or worse. I didn't change. I kept the same habits, bad and good, that I've always had and even developed some new ones.

I really just wasted five years and a shitton of money to learn some things that, wait for it, i could literally figure out through online tutorials. (Looking back, that's not true. It was absolutely worth it becomes the program was so unique, i couldn't have gotten as far as I did if it hadn't been for that school and I made it! I fucking made it! I have a bachelor's degree.)

I was going to ask " then why do i feel so empty and worthless" but i know why. It's because I'm not doing much of anything. Like i said, most of my life the past five years have been behind a screen. I bet if I started baking or learned to draw on physical paper or just had more proof that I was living, I would be a bit better off. I think i might do that.

Also: for the record, fuck keeping everything inside my head, I'm going to narrate my day and y'all are gonna haye me for it but whatever.

I need to get outside more. I am literally caging myself in. It's sort of intentional but not exactly malicious. I want to go outside and be with my friends and do things like bake and maybe find a martial arts class. And I'm going to. If I ever get up and remember to do it.

Everything involves so many steps. (Get up. Okay now. Aaaaand now. Please get up. Okay great, that's 50 energy points out of 75 on a good day. What the hell is step 2?)

But seriously.

Get up.

Walk somewhere.

Use the bathroom.

Walk some more.

Take mom's stuff downstairs and put it in the car.

Do this for her.

Get that for her.

She goes to work.

Go back to sleep.

Wake up.

Missed the timeframe to walk the dog so i let her out back.

Wait for her to be done.

Go back upstairs to bed.

Maybe eat, maybe don't.

Sleeeeeeeep.

Or laptop. Code or write. Code or write.

Spend hours doing one or the other or both just to have maybe a couple good lines of code i can use or an entire few scenes that I'll eventually have to scrap.

Do this for literally the rest of the day.

Eat and use the bathroom at various times.

Mom comes home.

Do chores or get stuff for her.

Go to bed. Or try.

That alone is a routine with a shitton of steps. A bad one.

How am i supposed to add "shower. Brush teeth. Do hair. Wash face. Brush dog." The simple stuff. And then it's not like i have any plans for the day or the week or at all ever, so what's the point of doing any of that except that my mom said so, I don't want her plants to die, and my dog needs me to do stuff for her?

My mom says I'm not intrinsically motivated. I know what that means but it's a bit more complicated than that. Motivation implies that I'm doing any of this on purpose. Clearly I'm choosing not to eat right. I'm choosing nor to bathe. I'm choosing to sleep the rest of my life away.

It's more like life just happens.

But apparently inaction is a choice too, if an extremely passive one that never croseed my mind until mom gets home and I realize i have nothing to show for my day. Nothing to show for the past five years of my life.

I just thought of something: if i keep a journal of the stuff I do, that might make me more motivated to do stuff. I'll have something to show.

Not very likely to happen, because God, the energy that'll take... But it's a nice thought and worth looking into.

I still can't sleep.

This probably isn't helping, but I am definitely going to show my therapist tomorrow.

Why is it so hard to talk to the people who are supposed to help you? I'm 23 in a month and five days. Adults can't be scary forever. I don't even know where that came from. I don't think it's just adults. I'm pretty sure it's people I see as being on a higher level than me. It took a while to actually approach people here on Tumblr, too.

God, i need to sleep.

Happy thought: my dog is curled up in a little ball next to me and she's so cute.

Hopeful thought: I'm going to wake up in four hours and start another day. It might go the same way as yesterday (this isn't the miraculous life-changing part of a movie) but something could be different. That's something.

#thunder crawls to the finish line #thunder crashes and burns

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all-pacas · 6 years ago

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i do want to write a fic for the anon who requested it, but also have some headcanons about caleb and nott and sickness:

calling caleb stoic would be too strong a word, but i feel like he’s the type who tries to ignore his sickness as long as he can — not out of pride, but because it’s just so inconvenient. he has things to do. he has to keep moving. at least he can read and transcribe spells; that counts as resting, right? he’s probably not hard to talk into resting properly, and even on his own he’ll eventually reach a breaking point and just sleep and refuse to move for a day or two.

i feel like nott by herself tends towards practical enough that if she was on her own and got sick, she’d drink fluids (alcohol AND tea), rest, do what she needed to do. but if her family was around? if caleb was around? veth seems like the type who would have been so busy taking after luc and his fever that she ignored hers completely. she doesn’t want to worry anyone. but i bet she’s just awful at hiding it — just gets grumpy and sullen — and probably enjoys the coddling that comes with being sick to an extent.

yeza would immediately try to brew up all sorts of medicines, which veth would loyally test and immediately declare herself cured.

but caleb probably gets weird and panicky when she’s sick, like, he doesn’t know what to do here, lie down, he’ll go find one of the clerics, maybe you shouldn’t walk; we’ll all carry you. and nott is an affectionate person but doesn’t like being treated like a child... so i bet she gets crankier and caleb gets more intent on Fixing and she just wants to sleeeeeeeep.

but she’s just fine with being petted, so to speak, and with people giving her things and cuddling her. just. she’s choosing to be lazy, she’s not sick and helpless.

on the other hand i bet when caleb gets the flu, nott goes into exactly the same crazy “oh my god you’re dying we need to fix this” that he would her. she goes out and acquires teas and medicines and backseat supervises the clerics. gets insanely overprotective. obsessively checks up on him.

and honestly? i think caleb kinda likes it. he’s always liked nott coddling him, even if he feels he oughtn’t; he likes the attention and the feeling of being loved and cared for. even if nott is a nightmare to everyone else.

if they’re both sick at the same time? a weird fight over who gets to take care of the other because clearly it’s only the other who has a fever. it ends with them just sleeping cuddled up and miserable for a day and a half, as caduceus makes them tea and broth.

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sarasa-cat · 6 years ago

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Writing pledge

Wasn’t able to write yesterday because 9-million hour work day. Very tired today but, what the fuck, laptop is in lap. I’ll try to make something happen even if I have to prop my eye lids open. Here’s the pledge:

1. Get closer to finalizing what needs to be in Ch 1 of Monsters. Not just scenes but Things That Need Introduction within those scenes.

2. Even if all required draft text doesn’t yet exist, finish assembling Ch 1. Get it really damn close to ready for THE REWRITING/EDITING QUEUE***.

3. Remember those notes I needed to make regarding how facts in Ch 1 of Monsters need to ripple back into prequel story (One Minute)? *COUGH* Notes. Needed.

4. Write a totally self-indulgent Vincent in the late 60s/early 70s scene. NJoy.

5. SLEEEEEEEEP.

*** THE EDITING QUEUE: Have been thinking about how to balance the joy of *posting* fanfic vs the problems of writing a complex story... and...

I think I’ve spent enough time making outlines and rehearsing this story in my head. Also, I have a shit ton of draft text, some which may never go into Monsters or may become stand alone stories or idk.

The problem is the complexity: weaving the Lucrecia POV tale in with Vincent’s long strange trip through his headspace with whatever wackiness Yuffie provides and making it all hang together with some vague notion of dramatic tension the timeline weaves back and forth over decades.

If this was an original novel, it would need a few rounds of draft->revision->reorganization->revision->reorganization->revision to get it right.

NO ONE IN FANFIC LAND HAS TIME FOR THAT. ;)

So, given what I have, I think I want to do the following:

A. Create a macro outline for all of the storylines/POVs using a 3-act structure. DONE! (finished in April-Jun) \o/

B. Generally understand what Act 1 absolutely must do. Perhaps 50% of the way there to figuring out the structure for weaving POVs and timelines into chapters that flow.

C. Beginning with Chapter 1, start assembling each chapter for Act 1 either out of the existing draft I have or by copy-pasting summary/ideas from outline(s). Once all of the pieces for a chapter are in order (even if some of the pieces are just placeholders like “Write a scene about Vincent & Yuffie rummaging through boxes of Vincent’s father’s old lab notebooks”), tag the chapter as ready for REWRITING/EDITING QUEUE.

D. Once five chapters are in the REWRITING/EDITING QUEUE rewrite, edit, and post the first chapter ... and then assemble the parts and pieces for the 6th chapter and add it to the REWRITING/EDITING QUEUE. Wash-rinse-repeat this step until a whole bunch of Act 1 chapters have been posted and the last chapter of Act 1 has been added to the queue.

E. ...Generally understand what Act 2 absolutely must do... and continue the process in the same manner (adding chapters to the queue, etc.). ... And same for Act 3.

I already have a shit-ton of draft that should be useful for Act 1 plus all the outline I will ever need so, technically, I could assemble all of Act 1′s many chapters except first ... but I’d rather start rewriting and editing and posting, thus the above plan.

#writing about writing

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allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 · 8 years ago

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#I need to go to sleeeeeeeep #it's 2:35am here and I have to be up in like 5 hours or less #but I'm not tired and I keep getting distracted by my dash #how does one shut off their brain temporarily?#kayla tag rants #feel free to ignore

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sexy-sans-the-ass · 7 years ago

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Here i go flooding the ask box XD can i request what would be the reaction off UF bro and the SF bro when their kind S/O who usually just try to brush off insults directed at the s/o but one day some one insulted and just keep trash talking and backstabbing the skeleton in front of them. Then S/O snap and smack the person who insulted the skele with a pillow in the face aggressively. When asked why s/o responds ' they need a different kind of kindness..So im killing them with kindess' thanks!

Coming right up sugar spice. ---Red (Uf Sans) He deals with enough self criticism that the insults of one person roll right off his fluffy ass collar. At least they arent insulting you- even if you never seem to care, it pisses him off that people cant see how god damn perfect you are. When you smack the shit out of said person with a pillow, though, he cant help but laugh. You were usually so calm! At your reasoning he just laughed harder and wrapped an arm around your waist. Yep. Definitely perfect. Edge (Uf Papyrus) He knows that the person is lying. I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS. I AM NOTHING SHORT OF PERFECT. He assures the ignorant person in question. When you hit them in the face with the pillow, hes pleased, because it shut their annoying voice up. But he looked to you curiously because you arent the type to easily become angered. When you explain, he pats your head fondly. THANK YOU DATEMATE BUT KINDNESS DOES NOT CRUSH YOUR ENEMIES. YOU MUST OBLITERATE THEM!! Blackberry (Sf Sans) Oh this little ball of spite and hatred is pissed. HOW DARE YOU TALK TO THE MALEFICENT SANS AS IF YOUR EXISTENCE IS IMPORTANT?! Hes going into full on Fite Me Mode™ when you swing a pillow into the persons face. He looks at you in surprise and starts laughing when you explain. He then picks up his own pillow with a hearty IN THAT CASE and starts pumbling the person with it. Plz stop the angry bean. Mutt (Sf Papyrus) Hes usually too chill to take insults like that to heart. Though it is a little bit annoying how hard this person is trying to grind his bones. He jumps slightly but sits back as he sees you come out of nowhere and whack the offender with the pillow and raises a browbone at you. Upon explaining, he lets out a small hum of adoration and pulls you into his lap to snuggle. Youre such a cutie. -----I awaken!! Lmao. Im up, and Im writing. I wanna go back to sleeeeeeeep. Buuut the responsibility of being human demands I be productive.

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taegidda · 7 years ago

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I didn’t want to leave the house because I was tired. So again my cousin dragged me out of the house to go to the mall. And now I am here standing, irritated btw, waiting for her to finish her “sample” make up. Like im tired, i have 16 hours work tomorrow! I need to sleeeeeeeep~~~

#text #personal

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lizzieraindrops · 8 years ago

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the morning after

part of advanced PLACEMENT: an ars PARADOXICA high school au about a gang of queer teen nerds, by @estherroberts , @podcastmecaptain , and @lizzieraindrops

all three of the aformentioned dorks are equally responsible for the hijinks found in this post.

click here for the au masterpost | track #ars placement for updates!

ALSO: things aren’t always showing up in the tags, so your most reliable bet is the aforementioned masterpost.

anthony, waking up in the morning: “helen where are my ass pants”

helen: “your WHAT”

anthony: “y’know my ass pants what'd you do with them”

anthony says ‘ass’ like he can’t believe that’s what he’s saying

helen:

helen: “dearest”

helen: “do you mean shorts”

anthony: “what? no the ones you like my ass in”

helen: “thank go-”

sally, who at some point in the night relocated herself to the couch: “GROSS”

helen: “-d i thought you were so hungover”

anthony: “y’know, they're that type, y’know the small pants?”

helen:

helen: “goddamnit”

anthony: “the ass small pants”

sally: “OH THE UGLY SMALL PANTS”

helen: “god help us”

jack, yelling, "ROBERTS! WHAT THE FUCK, YOU WERE HERE LAST NIGHT. WHERE ARE YOU" he looks around, bridget's gone too, "god help us"

jack: “HELP I’M SO ALONE”

deep voice: “hey”

jack: screams

deep voice: “dude it’s penny i’m just hungover”

with her accent, she really sounds like a sad cowboy from an old western

jack: “oh thank god i thought i was about to die from some sad cowboy”

penny: nods somberly and hands him tylenol

june halfheartedly tosses pillows back where they go

she finds a socket wrench with heart stickers on it

june: “fucking geeks”

esther and bridget, looking severely crumpled ("did you sleep in a closet?" "fuck you im outta the closet") reappear and make more pancakes

june, who is used to taming her own poofy hair and despite herself, wants to help them, eventually drags them into the bathroom and fixes their hair

she even does a little bit of makeup on them

sighing and shaking her head disappointedly the whole time

helen fell back asleep and no one wants to be the one to wake her up

they draw straws but they forgot to make one of the straws shorter

so no one does it

finally penny sits down next to helen and pokes her cheek

helen’s eyes fly open and she starts laughing

“you really drew straws for me?”

“ohh boy”

sally makes everyone scrambled eggs

they’re like, literally turning brown

“sally wtf these are all burnt, can’t you cook”

“what are you talking about, i Like them that way, they're perfect AND you're safe from salmonella”

june makes another batch, angrily

“waste of goddamn perfectly fine eggs i swear to god” “junebug” “quinto, i’m fine"

sally then attempts to eat all the burnt ones herself but she is Too Smol

jack and anthony help her

“hey,” esther says, lifting her gaze over a stack of pancakes far bigger than she is, “sally grissom talks in her sleeEeEEeEP”

lots more under the readmore!

“i do NOT”

“yeah you do, you were talking about the fucking periodic table, you nerd”

“i was AWAKE for that part”

“oh my god, you were doing that intentionally? that was, a conscious decision. that you made.”

“you weren't even here half the night, how would you know” jack throws in

esther starts blushing and bridget leans over and kisses her cheek

“wyyaaattt,” sally chastises him

she uses her own fork to scoop up more burnt eggs and shoves them at jack’s face

“sally could you not stab me in the face with your salmonella-free fork”

quentin leans forward, rests his elbows on the counter. “we need to start asking the real questions.”

“what's that q?” anthony asking with his mouth full

“who the hell was eating popcorn last night!?”

everyone, at the same time: “not me!”

quentin, softly, “what the fuck”

jack: “hey i have a question.”

esther, from behind her pancakes “shut up jack”

he holds his hand to his heart: “how many lips doth mine lips hath touched”

bridget: “that’s not even like….was that supposed to be shakespeare?”

“‘no! god, i’m like, making shit up dreyfuss what do you want"

she just slightly lifts her eyebrows and turns away

“wait seriously though how many people did i kiss"

helen, from somewhere: “definitely anthony-”

anthony: “yeah my neck is killing me thanks buddy”

penny: “-i don’t know but i have never seen a high five as extra as that one you gave sally”

they promptly reenact the high five, to everyone's hungover expense

“UP HIGH JACK, WOOO YEAHHH”

everyone winces as their hands SMACK

including them

the force of it almost knocks sally into esther’s pancake pile

jack makes two seconds of awkward eye contact with quentin and then Averts

quentin actually blushes a little bit

he quickly spears some of the burnt eggs and promptly chokes on them

somewhere down the line: “that was weird right?” “right, let’s never ever mention it” “right”

(and no one ever talks about that kiss, but there is one ESTHERception)

(esther and jack are like, hanging out at his house playing a videogame or something)

(“hey jack! remember when you kissed quentin! that was pretty great”)

(he smacks her with the controller)

(“soft” she whispers, laughing)

(he smacks her again, a little harder)

"hey guys" "yeah" "what day is it" "tues-FUCK"

"fFUCK"

“THE FAIR” “the SCIENCE FAIR”

“EVERYONE GET IN THE VAN”

everyone who’s competing, bridget, and penny, all pile in and esther realizes she forgot her rings

she runs back inside and june and helen are making out

“nice, uh, nice hair, june,” she laughs, and runs back out to the van

“WAIT.” anthony at the wheel, slams his hands against it. “HELEN SAID SHE WAS COMING. FOR MORAL SUPPORT.”

he jumps out of the car before esther can warn him and she just starts laughing again

he comes back shaking his head

june and helen, holding hands, follow him and climb over everyone to get in the back

THE WORLD'S MOST CROWDED WOODIE VAN RIDE LATER

THE WORLD'S MOST DISHEVELED PRESENTATION

SOMEHOW GOES OFF WITHOUT A HITCH

okay well. there is one hitch. a slight hitch.

anthony’s… ‘small ass pants’ are still missing

so he had to borrow a pair of leggings from june

they have poppies on them and he looks very cute but he's very disappointed about the ass pants

so anthony’s part of the presentation is given in flowery leggings, with a massive hickey and a split lip, and all this while WILDLY hungover

he's. he's a sight.

THEY STILL DO GREAT

bridget and helen clap and cheer for them when they finish presenting

penny hollers like she’s at a baseball game

june whistles at anthony and compliments his leggings, which are. her leggings

but their project still loses to a volcano called trinity peak with illegal firecrackers inside it due to studENT BODY POLITICS

everyone agrees it’s bullshit and they all go to the chuck e. cheese’s for sober pizza

chet recoils when he sees them

anthony winks saucily

june’s parents get home the next day, and they ask her if she partied

“no i had 8 people over tho, we cuddled”

“why is there a cell phone in the pool”

“why are the neighbors complaining about a rotten potato”

“why is there a pair of shorts in the garbage disposal?”

“they’re quentin’s???”

“they say ‘this ass property of H.’ on the tag”

“oh god”

(june also owns at least one pair of pants that say this on the tag. she does not feel it’s relevant to mention that to her parents)

#ars PLACEMENT #ars paradoxica #anthony partridge #sally grissom #helen partridge #jack wyatt #esther roberts #bridget chambers #june barlowe #quentin barlowe #penny wise #high school au #modern au #estherroberts #podcastmecaptain #SMALL ASS PANTS

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