#Mil writes

[crimeronan]

god i wish i wouldn't have to explain the intricacies of the neopets economy to you guys to give the full context for this but. the new neopets team that took over from jumpstart pledged that they were going to curb the inflation of rare items, which is great because a lot of rare items are worth literally hundreds of millions of neopoints, they are unbuyable unless you've been playing actively for 20 years. they did this earlier with a site festival that included random loot boxes, some of which had Unbelievably Fucking Rare And Precious items worth 200 million neopoints apiece.

well.

today they have gone a step further. by releasing this year's trick-or-treat bags. and having the trick-or-treat bags be stuffed to the brim with unbelievably fucking rare stamps, weapons, paint brushes, defense magic, and other unbuyables. (all prohibitively expensive and in-high-demand types of items.)

jellyneo, the premier neopets website, has recorded prices of some items plummeting from 2,000,000 neopoints to 4,000 neopoints IN THE LAST THREE HOURS. this is when most people haven't even heard about the event or OPENED THEIR BAGS YET.

and of course. cherry on top. 20-year-old account holders are crytyping on the site events neoboard about how mean and cruel it is to make rare stamps part of the prize pool, because their entire identity hinges on being part of the neopian bourgeoisie, and they are having MELTDOWNS over their assets being devalued until they're part of the lowly proletariat.

this is a children's game for children btw.

none of the money is real.

i'm having such a good time.

[static-radio-ao3]

jegulus microfic // words: 1.5k // cw: drinking, implied sexual content

sometimes you just have to make out with a hot guy at a party and if that hot guy happens to be your best friend's brother, well...

James watches with laser focus as Regulus’ tongue slips from between his lips. He has a half-done cigarette in his fine-boned fingers and licks a long stripe along the length of the rolling paper.

Regulus rolls it up with practiced ease, making James' eye twitch, and he passes the cigarette off to Barty.

“Thanks, baby boy,” Barty says as he pushes himself off the too-low couch across the room and wanders to the open window so he can lean outside to smoke.

He flicks open his mildly offensive lighter and James nearly wishes Barty would take a little tumble, but his horniness hasn’t quite shifted into homicidal tendencies so he takes a steadying breath and tells himself to fucking relax.

His eyes shift back to Regulus, who is rolling a new cigarette, presumably for Evan. James wishes he could zoom in, just to get a closer look at how nimbly Regulus spreads the tobacco in the rolling paper.

“You know, you could at least pretend to listen to me,” Sirius complains with a shove to James’ shoulder. His beer nearly sloshes out of the bottle with the sudden movement.

“Sorry. I was,” James says. “Listening, I mean. Not pretending to. I got… distracted.”

“What on earth could be more important than me right now?” Sirius questions, shifting in his seat and pressing his cheek against James’ so he can follow his line of sight. His skin is soft and warm and the familiar scent of amberwood fills James’ nostrils.

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to realize what James was zeroed in on. “No,” he gasps, falling back into his seat with a betrayed gasp.

“I’m just—” James starts, but Sirius’ withering look silences him with ease.

“Just what?”

“Just looking!”

“Look elsewhere! Literally anyone else, I beg of you.”

“Remus,” James says immediately, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Sirius’ face falls minutely. “Okay, except for Remus.” His eyes shift off to the side, as if picturing something, and then he adds, “Although…”

“No,” James is quick to interrupt. He shoves Sirius’ face away for good measure, fingers damp with condensation from his glass beer bottle. “Nip that thought right in the bud.”

“Whose butt are we nipping?” Remus asks, because of course he chooses this very moment to reappear. He stands in front of them, hands on his hips and eyebrow cocked.

Sirius turns to face Remus, not unlike a flower to the sun or a moth to a flame.

“James is ogling my brother.” His tone is accusatory and petty, but his eyes are molten ice when he looks at Remus.

Remus leans in to press a quick kiss against Sirius’ waiting mouth and James also purses his lips in a mocking invitation, but Remus settles for flicking his forehead instead.

He surveys the seating arrangement and after a moment, he settles on the armrest of the couch. It’d be a tight fit with the three of them on there and the party is keeling on the wrong side of too hot. A smoky haze fills the room and the thumping bass makes the floor hum with every song.

“Ogling is a strong word,” James argues. “I think admiring is more accurate.”

“From a distance. A long, long distance. In fact,” Sirius says as he turns to face James again, “how about we move to another room?”

“Actually,” Remus says, “that’s precisely why I came here… Do you wanna…?” He lets the sentence trail off suggestively, fingers slipping into the ripped fabric of Sirius’ jeans. James watches as a barely-there shiver skitters its way up Sirius’ spine and his eyes flutter shut at the slight touch.

Sirius wastes no time shoving his full beer bottle into James’ hands while Remus gets up. Over Sirius’ shoulder, James mouths a silent thank you at Remus, who simply winks at him in return.

Sirius wiggles his fingers at Remus in a silent request to be pulled off the couch, but before they leave James to his thoughts, Sirius whirls on him again. “No funny business with my brother, okay?”

“None at all,” James swears as solemnly as he can. Hands full with Sirius’ discarded drink and his own, he settles for mentally crossing his fingers.

“All by your lonesome, Potter?” Regulus asks, dropping onto the couch with a quiet oof. James glances up just in time to see his best friends disappear around a corner.

His gaze settles on Regulus, on the dark shade of his shirt and how it brings out his eyes. And his collarbones.

James hums, not quite trusting his voice. He takes a sip of his beer for liquid courage and if it turns into more of a swig, well, who’s to say?

“Knocking ‘em back pretty fast, huh?”

“This one’s Sirius’. He disappeared with Remus to go do unspeakable things to each other’s bodies.”

“Might need to steal that from you just to get that image out of my head,” Regulus says, those nimble fingers James was eyeing earlier appearing in front of him and deftly plucking the bottle from James’ hand. “Thank you very much.”

“I do hate to suffer alone,” James says, tipping his own beer toward Regulus in a cheer.

“Can’t have that, can we?” And Regulus taps their bottles together.

The clink of the glass is drowned out by the loud music —something about releasing one’s inhibitions?— but James feels it down to his bones.

“Enjoying the party?” James asks, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. He brings the bottle to his lips again just to keep more stupid words from tumbling out, letting them fall into the drink instead.

“Come on, Potter, your game has to be better than that,” Regulus says, head lolling on the back of the couch lazily. His hair tousles with the movement, careless waves of inky black spilling across his forehead.

“What do you mean?” James asks, hands tightening around his drink to keep from doing something insane like reaching out and fixing Regulus’ hair.

“Everyone knows you never leave a party alone. No way people fall for that line.”

“It’s not a line.”

“No?” Regulus asks, sitting up straight again. “You genuinely want to know if I’m enjoying the party?”

James hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

Regulus’ mouth, usually down-turned, tugs down even more. It would look like a pout if it weren’t for the fact that the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“You wanted me to use a line on you?” James asks.

This time, Regulus hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“This might surprise you, but I don’t need to use lines on people to get them to come home with me. Some people are into me, if you’ll believe it.”

Regulus’ face says that he does believe it. His mouth says, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on mine, then.”

James scoffs, turned on beyond belief and trying valiantly to drown it out. “Happy to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They’d inched together unknowingly until the space between them had shrunk to near-nonexistence. The world starts and ends in the breath between their faces, Regulus’ lips a focal point.

Instead of replying again, James catches Regulus’ mouth in a kiss, hot and heavy from the beginning. He blindly sets his drink aside and hopes that it doesn’t get knocked over. Then again, he has other things on his mind than potentially staining the carpet.

With both hands free, he is able to shift on the couch. One hand comes up to cradle the back of Regulus’ head while the other moves to his hip as if magnetic. He can’t help the thrill of excitement when he realizes his hand fits just right.

He faintly hears someone whoop but then Regulus’ hands shift from James’ back to the sides of his face. He gently knocks his glasses askew in the process, but that’s fine. James doesn’t need to be able to see to do this.

There is nothing else in the world but this. Them.

Eventually, Regulus’ hands end up in his hair, and he pulls James back with a mean fist.

“What?” James asks, punched out and breathless.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, just pushes James back against the couch and moves to straddle him. It takes James no time to get with the program, hands changing course to settle on Regulus’ thighs.

James isn’t sure how much time passes. All he’s sure of is the comforting weight of Regulus on his lap, the feel of Regulus’ tongue in his mouth, and the warmth of Regulus’ hands on his face.

The earth could explode and James is fairly sure he wouldn’t realize, too caught up in the heady path Regulus is tracking down the side of his neck.

A needy sound spills from his mouth, hands clenching on Regulus’ things, and Regulus is quick to meet him in another kiss.

“James!” Sirius’ voice filters into his ears from somewhere behind him a lifetime later and the sound of the party rushes back in pieces.

Music.

Chatter.

The crash of a vase toppling over.

“I told you, no funny business!” Sirius whines, reaching out to smack the back of James’ head, and James can’t help the way he bites into Regulus’ lip on impact.

With a disgruntled groan, Regulus pulls back. “We’re not laughing,” he says, lips pink and breath stolen.

Sirius’ reply is indignant, surely, but James can’t hear anything except for the sound of his heart thundering in his ears when Regulus leans in again to kiss him.

He’ll apologize in the morning.

Or not.

[ahollowgrave]

Tempest (noun):  1. A violent windstorm, frequently accompanied by rain, snow, or hail. 2. Furious agitation, commotion, or tumult; an uproar. A warrior of light and a scion The Pendants, the Crystarium

The storm squatting over the Crystarium does its best to make itself known. Rain lashes the window, wind whistles through the cracks of the frame, lightening presses its luminous face to the glass. Jealous and demanding. Desperate to be acknowledged. But you’re not watching the storm outside. You’re not even listening to it.

No, your eyes track the storm currently rampaging through your inn room. It wears the skin of a girl -- a girl you know very well. Prudence Dubois always paces when she’s truly agitated and now she’s walking corner to corner, back and forth, kicking things out of her way. She’s screamed and cussed and sworn violent, ugly oaths. She’s thrown the same chair from one side to the other, splintering it and now carries one of the legs to further emphasize her many points. She’s beautiful. Her freckled face is usually frozen in a frown of perpetual disappointment. Now it is twisted and red and spittle flies from her mouth as another string of curses leave it. Prudence rakes her shaking hands through her short hair. Sweat slicks it back. An improvement  over all, you decide, out of her eyes at the very least. 

Prudence wheels on you, suddenly, the dark of her eyes burning like coals. You become a target. All her anger and hurt and fear all shaped like you. You’ve never minded. She’s beautiful. Throughout this outburst you have sat quietly, hands folded neatly in your lap -- moving only to nod your agreement or voice some vague sound of sympathy. The catalyst remains a mystery to you. She was already storming when you arrived home and her words come in a flood; you’ve picked out the Exarch’s title and Emet’s name and decided you need not pry further. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the door crack, opening silently, and a white-haired head pokes itself in. Then a second. Two too-curious twins. You expected them earlier. You shake your head and as the door swings shut your shoulders release some of their tension. It all goes unnoticed by the stormcloud. Prudence will tire herself eventually. She will come to you, crawling on hands and knees, lay her head in your lap. She will not apologize. She will not acknowledge the outburst at all. And you will forgive her, threading your fingers through her hair, taking all of her unvoiced guilt and shame in your hands and swallowing it. And she will be beautiful.

[natkhat-sa-shyam]

Date idea.

How amazing it would be when i buy books for her and she buys books for me.

And then we discuss about our shopping over a cup of chai.

आखिर में भी तो एक ऐसा पार्टनर deserve करता हूं जो मेरे लिए बुक्स खरीदे!

[sweetlysniffly]

Hayfever Haze

Fandom: Hell//uva B//oss

Summary: Mill//ie’s run out of hayfever medicine, and it’s got Moxx//ie’s in a bit of a daze.

A/N: Im sure if you follow me you know how much I say that I want Millie content, so I finally got off my ass and wrote a little something. This is like, my first full kink fic so bear with me. Both m&m have the kink in this fic btw, as per my headcanon. I might do a part 2 depending on if people like this or not so let me know what you think 💕

There were a couple things Blitz knew he could depend on whenever he walked into IMP. Loona doing anything but working, something heavy falling on Moxxie, and Millie's megawatt smile. One of those things was missing this morning.

"Mills?" Blitz called, only for his coworker to shush him with a finger to his lips.

"Sir, could you be any louder?"

"Well sure I can, Mox, but you'd have to buy me dinner first-

Moxxie rolled his eyes, "Eugh. Sir, I mean it. Look."

Moxxie turned Blitz's head to see Millie, sitting at the conference table in her typical spot, head down in her arms. Was she...crying? He couldn't hear any sobbing, and Moxxie would probably be all over her-

Blitz's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of snoring. He watched as Millie's head turned and the sound became less muffled.

"Normally I'd say something about not paying you to sleep on the job-

"Sir, we don't have a client today-

"Shut up, Mox! Can't you see your wife is trying to sleep? Now, I was going to say that normally I'd say something but she...doesn't look too good."

Blitz was right. The position Millie passed out in didn't look especially comfortable, especially for her neck. Her nose and eyes were flushed red, and her mouth was slightly agape as she slept. There were crumpled-up tissues on the table around her and floor at her feet, and a red gingham handkerchief loose in her hand.

Blitz got intense, staring Moxxie in the eyes. "What happened? Did you hurt her, Moxxie? Cause I swear-

"What? No sir, I would never!" Moxxie sighed, gesturing towards his poor wife, as if it was obvious. "She has really bad allergies this time of year: not used to the city trees, and we ran out of her allergy medicine. She was up all night because she couldn't breath through her nose."

Blitz noticed that Moxxie seemed a little...less confident than when he normally spoke. He could chalk it up to trying to be quiet so he doesn't wake Millie up, but there was something else there too. He didn't have too much time to dwell on it before they whipped their heads to a sound from across the room.

“Hupt'TSCHUH!!”

Sniffles and a tired moan followed her audible heavy sneeze. Millie brought a hanky up to her face to blow, but was unsuccessful as only a squeak emitted from her nose.

"Guh..." Millie lifted her head from the table. "Sorry 'bout the mess, B, I'll clean it up." She sniffed loudly, rubbing her the sleep from her itchy, irritated eyes. Moxxie, ever the gentleman, scrambled to clean the tissues up before his wife could.

"You sure you should be here, Mills? No offense but you look like death warmed over."

"Thanks, B." Millie mumbled with slight irritation in her tone. "It's these damn trees and all the pollen in the air. Its different than back home. Didn't know I had allergies 'till I moved here.” She sat up, aiming to be spry and attentive to the assignment. “What's on the agenda for today?" She punctuated her sentence with a thick sniffle. Her usually energy was gone, her voice showing clear signs of a scratchy throat and thick congestion.

Blitz side eyed Moxxie, unsure of how to react. Can you let an employee have sick leave for allergies? She'd probably just get them caught on a mission with all her sniffling and sneezing. Well its his business, he reasoned, he can do whatever he wants.

He went back to his daily boss monologuing routine. “Well, I was thinking that-

"hupT'SCHUh! hechT-CHIEW ! huh...heuhh....HUdshcHhH! Sngkkk." Millie wiped her dripping nose on her sleeve. “Bless me. Sorry, boss.”

Blitz resumed. “That since you can't go two seconds without sneezing, Loonie and I will go out and get your medicine while you and Mox stay back and get some rest.” He wrapped his arms around Loona to give her a hug. She scowled, and although she didn't hug back, she didn't push him off. Blitz grinned.

"We can't really go on a mission with you sneezing so much, Mills, we'd probably get caught. And Stolas and I aren't exactly on...peachy terms right now so we can't expect him to come save us if we do."

Moxxie put a hand on her back, assuring her that neither he nor Blitz thought any less of her or her capabilities. Moxxie could tell how bad her allergies were back at the apartment, but she insisted she was fine. She couldn't skip work over allergies! And she definitely didn't need to.

"I'm fine, Blitz, really."

Moxxie took her hand. "Millie, honey, Blitz is right. We need our strongest fighter in tip top shape." He tapped her nose and smiled reassuringly, hoping she'd take the compliment. The second his finger lifted however, he noticed Millie's eyes shutting and her head leaning up. She lifted her hand to cover the sneeze, forgetting her husband’s fingers were still interlinked with hers.

"hUT'zchiEEWww!! snff...snff"

As the spray hit his hand, Moxxie felt an electricity spread through his skin. Heat rose into his cheeks as blood also rushed to...other areas of his body. He took in a small, but noticeably sharp, breath. "B-bless you, honey." He stuttered out.

Millie turned, a bit mortified. "Ugh, sniff sniff, sorry honey. It snuck up on mbe." She patted down her pockets, looking for something to clean off his hand with, only to come up with used tissues. "I'b all outta tissues." She snuffled, and it came out louder than she thought it would be. "Exusbe mbe."

Blitz quickly glanced down the same place Moxxie had glanced. Ohhhh. That makes sense, he thought to himself. He'd noticed Moxxie's...peculiar behavior around sneezing before, but he always chalked it up to being uptight. Moxxie could be pretty hoity toity sometimes, so Blitz always assumed his gunman was a germaphobe. But a part of him always wondered if it was more than that.

He had his answer now. He watched with a smug grin on his face as Moxxie shyly offered Millie a handkerchief from his inner coat pocket. God, how did he manage to be that much of a gentleman while he was that horny?

"We'll get some more tissues too. I was gonna run out anyway. Your snot isn't the only...bodily fluid that comes out frequently here. Bye M&M!"

Loona didn't look up from her phone as she walked out the door. Blitz lingered in the doorway a while, locking eyes with Moxxie. He taunted his employee, watching him blush harder as a shit eating grin spread across his face.

"Have fun while we're gone. Bye, Millie Billieeeeee!”

Millie watched them walk out the door before slumping her head on his husbands shoulder. “I think all this congestion is makin’ mby head tense up.”

At the sound of her suddenly lower, raspier voice softly hitting his ears, Moxxie felt his tail pointing and smiled. “I can help with that…”

TBC…

[bekkachaos]

I just think it's fucking wild how novels, like published books, average between 70,000 and 120,000 words and there are fanfic authors out there posting regular 80k+ works for free, for the love of the thing (or in spite of the thing)

[seeminglydark]

large unnamed web comic website spam-mailing me every single day for a week with those 'you haven't updated Mil-Liminal in a while' emails I KNOW IM SORRY YOU THINK I DONT KNOW? they sound like they're sending out a wellness check any day now. guess i better get on that.

[doulayogimama]

I have been sick 3x in 12 hours. Twice while I was trying to sleep.

Boy or girl, after this I am DONE 😬

[semiautocatgirl]

Command's public messaging about the pilot being the most expensive part of the mech is exactly what the public wants to hear, but it's not quite accurate. It centers the pilot in the system, humanizes the war instrument to them. However, anyone who's spent 10 minutes in a repair bay knows that's far from the truth. Watching the concerningly thin human component stumble out of a sweaty cockpit isn't quite the image of a heroic ace-in-a-day maverick fighter pilot triumphantly striding down the runway that most expect.

The most expensive part in a mech is always up for debate; half of the parts cost more than the GDP of a small nation, and the other half don't even legally exist. Still, the techs can usually get a good idea of any given part's objective value by how loudly the head repair officer shouts when something is dropped.

The most expensive part of the pilot? Easy — the plugsuit. A stolen bodysock worn on a mission with five or more kills can sell for easily triple an average tech's monthly stipend.

[girlsdads]

*ringing giant bell in town square* 💦🚽 fic has hit 5k!

[static-radio-ao3]

James Potter does not get addicted to things. Never has, never will. Even loving Regulus is not an addiction. Rather, it is a habit. It comes as naturally to him as breathing does. It is as unthinking as the beat of his heart. Loving Regulus is muscle memory. He brushes his teeth in the morning, standing just the slightest bit off-center in front of the mirror, and he loves Regulus. He makes breakfast in the morning, a little too much because he’s still used to cooking for two, and he loves Regulus. He packs his bag in the morning, accidentally grabbing the wrong wand and no one around to correct him, and he loves Regulus. Old habits die hard. Regulus Black died easy.

[jikigo]

guys I just realised smth

7 big runs (grandfest stage being the 7th)

700,000,000 golden eggs quota

Grandfest dropping in the 7th month

7 rings

Every 70 years

The now or never seven

Splatoon 2’s 7th anniversary

And finally Splatoon 2 coming out in 2017

do we think there’s a pattern with grizzco and the number 7

[alien-mil]

Sport AU! But the gang all play different sports.

Kord Rugby.

Trixie Hockey, Ice hockey.

Pronto All of them.

Eli Volleyball.

Junjie AFL.

They’re all friends because of one thing. And that’s because they’re all in the same classes for Collage. Every. Single. One. They don’t understand how.

[darksouls2yuri]

@sherbovania shrimp AND henry

[mangk0]

What if for that moment when atreus is trying to convince odin to stop the madness surrounding the mask and the rift, instead of letting atreus talk odin just like. stabbed him.

[inscrutable-shadow]

Augusnippets Day 24 - Path of Whumperless Whump - Land Mine

mil au again hee hee

rex engelhart @cyberwhumper vic montez @bxtterflystxtches mariano ortiz and bastian miranda @crash-bump-bring-the-whump cal bjornson @write-kin

"Okayyy. Engelhart? I need you to stay very still for me. Very, very still."

"Still" had probably been a challenge for Rex before the chrome, now, with all the work they'd done to get him pacing instead of punching when he was agitated, it was like asking a dog with a bone not to wag its tail. Still, lights darkened on the chrome as nonessential systems were powered down, out of use.

"You should run, doc." They'd both heard the click as the landmine armed itself. Rex was heavy, no way they could switch out the weight like Indiana Jones, as if that could ever work on a pressure-activated explosive.

One thing about Thanatos, though, was that he never gave up. "No. Bjornson, get me Montez now. We've got a mine."

Cal's voice filtered through his earpiece. "No good, he's dark on comms. I'll keep trying to raise him."

Shit. If Vic was dark, he might have run into the same problem. He and Mariano were on the other side of the outpost running final checks. This area was supposed to be safe, the war mages had already cleared it, Thanatos was only here providing secondary support and aid to any remaining civilians, as someone with field training and who wouldn't be expected to do any fighting when paired with Rex. Thanatos thought that "lack of manpower" was an excuse to put him in harm's way, but who was he to dispute the general's orders? "And Miranda? Does he have a read on Ortiz?"

Bastian cut in. "No bad feelings, but no comms either. They might have found a deadzone. Hold tight, you two. I'm scrambling backup." His voice was as confident and sure as ever, but there was no way that wasn't a front.

Fuck. He just needed to think. There had to be a way to get out of here. They didn't know how many other active mines could be around, and no matter how light-footed Thanatos was, he wouldn't fool one. He just needed a solution, a way to get them both out of there unharmed—

"Don't worry, doc. I won't let you get hurt," said Rex, the lights on his cybernetics flaring to life again.

"Rex, what are you—"

A huge metal frame wrapped around Thanatos, shielding him from the force of the explosion that knocked them both to the ground and made his ears ring and light flash behind his eyes. He curled himself into a ball in Engelhart's arms, the way he always did when something went wrong. When his vision cleared and his ears stopped ringing, he lifted his head. "Rex?"

It took a moment, but he was answered with a cough. "Ow." Thank the gods. Engelhart was a fucking tank. Now just to do that however many more times it took to get back. Thanatos wasn't looking forward to it.