#dang it felt like homecoming

[dannydoteggg]

at the start of book 4 the MC has four options:

[kissingghouls]

If You Remember This Tomorrow

Phantom Ghoul x GN! Reader - Fluff, Tipsy Kissing, 1700 words

Heard a song, had an idea, wrote some fluff. I don't even know. Thank you to @ramblingoak because you're always so dang supportive. 💜

fic list // ao3 // Little Ghost (pt2) // A Late Night Call (pt3)

The room is loud, almost unbearably so. There are bodies everywhere, some paired off and some not, but all of them are illuminated by lights that flash in a wonderful rainbow of pretty colors. The dancefloor is full, and you feel as though you’re floating after that last drink that tasted more like red than anything else.

A smile spreads over your face as Swiss sways a little too excitedly and stumbles over his dance partner. None of this is new, not even the multi-ghoul falling over his own feet. He barks out a hearty laugh from his new spot on the floor, his whole body shaking. Somehow, he manages to get back to his feet without spilling a drop of his drink. It’s an impressive feat that earns him a kiss on the cheek as a prize before the pair spins off together to get better acquainted.

The success of the Ghost project meant that a good portion of the Ministry was on tour more often than not anymore. While the Ministry parties had always been wild, the more recent homecoming celebrations left most of the congregation with little to no memory of the night before.

A thick fog rolls over the floor, that sickly sweet smell of chemical syrup pumped out from the machines filling the air. Phantom materializes in it, a vapor turned solid shape that now blocks your path. You bounce off him, unsteady and unable to correct your course in your current state. He grabs your elbow, keeping you upright and off the ground with a soft smile. His teeth have a red tint to them, much like your own, but it’s too bright and too loud to make out what he’s saying.

He leans in to repeat himself, his grip a little tighter on your arm. He smells like strawberries and some kind of alcohol. But under the top notes of what you guessed was the last drink he had was the soft smell of a cologne so nice you wanted to bury your face in it.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time with the newly summoned ghoul—time was a luxury neither one of you had. But the pull had been there from the beginning, ever since he clawed his way out of the Pit and locked eyes with you. It’s a dance, one with several complicated steps and neither one of you had felt compelled to lead.

He says something else, words that taste like fruit punch and candy. You grin lazily and pat his shoulder, allowing yourself the first intended contact from you to him. His breath hitches, grip tightening once more. He’s so close now you can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. A uniform you dare to imagine, for a split-second, rumpled in a pile on your floor.

It’s clumsy at first and your teeth clash together more than your lips, but the two of you are in such a stupor that you don’t stop. His hand moves to your back, pressing you close as he adjusts and kisses you properly. Behind you someone whistles—most likely Dew or Cumulus—but it doesn’t distract the ghoul from the task. He brings a hand to the side of your face, fingers splayed over your cheek and neck as he pulls the breath from your lungs.

You grab handfuls of his collar and break away, keeping your forehead pressured to his as you struggle for air. Kissing him is like drowning and you want nothing more than to be underwater again.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles against your lips. He draws a line over your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb and moves in again.

The next kiss is dizzying, knees buckling under the pressure and the flick of his tongue. He keeps you upright with a firm hand on your back and the one on your face slides into your hair. He tugs lightly, a smile hidden between you as you let out the tiniest moan.

Someone clears their throat nearby and the pair of you split apart like you’ve been caught behind the bleachers at a school dance. Papa offers Phantom an almost fatherly smile and pats him on the shoulder. He suggests the two of you get some air to avoid the cluster of ghouls watching nearby.  Phantom is flustered, a pink tinge highlighting his cheeks as he stares back at his captive audience. Mountain and Rain each give him a thumbs up paired with toothy grins.

Your own cheeks heat up as you realize at some point you had been the topic of discussion between the ghouls. Some lonely night had passed between them on the road, maybe on the bus or in some dingy greenroom, and you were the reason he asked for advice from the others. The revelation makes you feel too warm in your clothes, a blush now spreading over your entire body.

You press your face against his shoulder, hiding a shy smile. He slides his hand down your arm, fingers brushing as the lace with yours. He asks if you would like to go with him and yes is the only word you know for a moment.

You don’t miss the smile on his face when the two of you start moving toward the exit, hand in hand.

“Wait!”

Sunshine, ever the perpetual dealer of chaos, approaches carrying two large cups filled with that same red drink that now tastes like Phantom’s kiss. She drops a wink in your direction that is the opposite of subtle and tells you both to have fun before sending you away.

Outside the night is unseasonably cool, a rare break from the heat of summer and the abbey’s sweltering ballroom. You both close your eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze that blows over the grounds. It’s quiet as the wind stills. No one else has made their way out from the party yet. In a few hours the lawn will be filled with your friends and his, but for now it’s just you and Phantom and maybe a curious spirit or two.

You sip carefully from your cups as you walk, the red dye staining your lips and teeth. It doesn’t matter to either of you anymore.

Phantom trips over a gnarled tree root, his drink spilling sticky red liquid over his fingers as he drops to the ground. You can’t help but laugh, the alcohol in your system doing you no favors. He pouts beneath you and wipes his wet hand across your thigh, smearing juice and dirt into your clothes. As you move to help him up, you catch the same root with your own feet and land in the grass next to him in a fit of giggles.

“You ok?” he asks through his own laughter, smiling wide when you nod. He settles on the lawn propped up on an elbow as he watches you.

The minutes pass, the pair of you splitting the remainder of your drink as you sit together in the grass. It’s a clear, beautiful night—a lot like the night he was summoned and pulled from the ground by Papa himself. You smile at the thought, the memory now a tiny movie in your head.

“I think I’m stuck,” he tells you and sinks into the ground a little more.

You shuffle closer, the space between you reduced to maybe half an inch. He drapes an arm over your waist, closing the gap even more with a soft sigh.

“You’re nice to look at,” he admits happily, a small hiccup breaking the sentence.

“Am I?”

“Mmhmm. There’s a word for it up here—I can’t remember it now, but in the Pit we’d say,” he pauses for a moment and brings his mouth to your ear before making a noise that sounds like a dryer full of gravel. “There’s not a word for word translation, but it’s close.”

You do your best to imitate the noise, giggling at his surprised face.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he teases, clutching a hand to his chest in fake shock.

You laugh harder at his stupid joke than you mean to, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“No,” you finally manage as you dare to reach for his waist. “Kissed you with it, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says thoughtfully. “We should do that again.”

“We could. Or you can tell me more about how I’m nice to look at.”

He buries his face in the space between your neck and shoulder with a tiny whine. “Words are hard, ok?”

“So you’re not going to kiss—mmph!”

He catches your lips in another slow, passionate kiss that leaves you lightheaded. Your legs tangle as he pins you against the soft ground and you can’t think of anywhere you’d rather be. He tastes like heaven or maybe hell, syrupy sweet from whatever the ghouls had put in those cups.

He sounds smug as he mumbles something about being right to want to kiss you again, not quite pulling away enough to be fully understood. It doesn’t matter because you’re both smiling, completely drunk on fruit punch and each other.

Minutes become hours, but Phantom keeps you warm through the night. You talk about everything as you slowly sober up. He tells you about his time on the road, stories about mischief and misbehaved ghouls and the thousands of happy faces that he’s seen. You explain what he missed while he was away, like the time the hell hound puppies escaped their crates and dug up part of Primo’s garden and the day Cowbell fell into the fountain.

The two of you rest against a tree—the same one with the root that had taken you both down. In the comfortable quiet you fall asleep on his shoulder, his arm draped around you to keep you close. When his eyes begin to feel too heavy, he presses a kiss into your hair and rests his head on yours.

It won’t be long before your friends find you and tease you while you all nurse hangovers and swear never to drink that much again. There will be stories about what you missed and who came searching for you, who fell in the pool and who taught Papa the latest dance. You’ll listen to all of it while Phantom holds your hand and you will know you were right where you were supposed to be.

[chobit92]

House Of Wax: Homecoming Part One

(Mara sings along to some crap song on the radio as she drives down the empty highway. She glances at the clock on the dashboard. Just gone 7am. She sighs and wonders what she’s doing. Leaving her life behind and going...She doesn’t even know where she’s going. But then she doesn’t really know where she’s come from either. She’s never felt like she was at home. Not since she was a teenager. She sighs again and glances out the side window frowning. She then changes the radio station and takes the next turnoff.).

 (Mara has stopped the RV and is sat there smoking a cigarette staring at the road in front of her. It’s completely washed out and she doubts that this big RV could get through that. She sighs. First she gets a flat tyre and now this. It’s just not her day. She sighs. She finishes her cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray. She then reverses the RV and turns around heading back up the road.).

 (Mara is following a narrow road lined with trees. She rounds a bend and glances to the right as the trees thin a bit. She makes out an old burnt out campfire surrounded by discarded beer cans. She sighs and shakes her head. Bloody people why can’t they take their rubbish with them? She then passes an old sign, the lettering faded, reading Ambrose. She rounds another bend and glances right again. An old abandoned building looms into view, an old mill. The road up to the mill however is overgrown and thick with weeds. Mara drives on for another ten minutes. She passes rusted pieces of metal that she thinks used to be tractors and other assorted farm equipment. She then rounds another bend and a house comes into view. The road evens out and the ride becomes smoother. A town has appeared. She slows down and crawls down the road turning onto a street. She passes several more houses then a bowling alley comes into view. She turns the RV and pulls over. She looks up and down the road. There is a church right at the end along with a movie theatre, a shop and a gas station. She switches off the engine and sighs taking out a cigarette. She glances at the clock again, it’s 8.15am. It’s taken her over forty minutes to find another way around. She gets out and stands in the street looking around. The place is in a state of disrepair and in several places overgrown. Trees are starting to grow around a few buildings and one house in the next street has a tree growing through it. Like nature is taking the property back now that humans have left. She takes another drag of her cigarette and sighs again. She has no idea what she’s doing. Where she’s going, or what she’s doing here.).

 *

 (Zack is speeding down the highway singing along to Kings of Leon. His friend Gus is in the passenger seat while their friend Brady is sat in the back. They are laughing and Gus is showing them pictures on his phone of his new girlfriend in her underwear.).

Zack: Dude! I still don’t know how even scored that.

Gus: Experience and patience my man.

Brady: Yeah right! She probably only wants you because of that contract you got.

Gus: Shut up! She isn’t even interested in cage fighting.

Zack: Bet she’s interested in the money.

Brady: Right!

Gus: You two don’t know a dang thing!

Zack: Maybe not. We’re just saying be careful. She might think you’re gonna get rich and famous or something and be after some for herself.

Gus: You gotta have some more faith in people man.

Zack: Pretty hard after...

Gus: I know. But look that’s the past. You can’t let that dictate your future.

Brady: Puts you off though.

Gus: Shut up. You’ve never even had a girlfriend.

Brady: Fuck off you know I have.

Gus: Oh yeah. Who?

Zack: His mom?

(Gus laughs and shoves Zack. The car lurches to the left.).

Zack: Hey!

(Brady has leant forward and is showing Gus something on his phone.).

Gus: Who is that?

Brady: A girl I’ve been talking to.

Gus: Online? Seriously bro? Here Zack take a look man.

(Zack glances around to look at the phone before turning his attention back to the road.).

Zack: You don’t even know if that’s who you’ve been talking to.

Gus: My thoughts exactly.

Brady: Whatever. You’re just jealous.

Zack: Am not.

Brady: Are too.

(Gus laughs again.).

Gus: What are you twelve?

(He then turns the music up.).

Gus: You’re sex is on fire!

(Zack manages a laugh and shakes his head.).

Zack: Knock it off man.

(Gus shoves him again laughing. Zack shoves him back.).

Zack: Quit being a dumbass!

(Brady laughs and flicks Zack on the ear.).

Zack: Hey quit it!

(Zack turns around and shoves Brady.).

Gus: Hey watch out! Zack!

(Zack whirls around in his seat and realises too late that he’s veered onto the other side of the road. Zack swerves trying to avoid the oncoming car but it’s too late. He clips it and the car goes careening off the road and into a tree. Zack’s car spins out of control and hits the grass verge at the side of the road with a loud bump before coming to rest against a tree.).

 *

 15 MINUTES EARLIER

 (Chelsea is driving down the highway with her friend Whitney in the passenger seat.).

Chelsea: I hope my mom’s gonna be okay without me.

Whitney: I’m sure she’ll be fine. Jody and Alex are looking after her.

Chelsea: Yeah I know. She’s been getting worse lately though and I haven’t been away in a while.

Whitney: I know. That’s exactly why you need to go away. You deserve a break.

Chelsea: Yeah I know. I just feel bad leaving her.

Whitney: Come on. As soon as we get to that lavish hotel you’ll see that this is just what you needed.

Chelsea: I know. I know she’s gonna be fine. I know I’m gonna enjoy myself and relax on this holiday.

Whitney: Exactly. Ah I can’t wait to put my feet up at the side of a pool with a martini or something.

(Chelsea smiles.).

Chelsea: Me neither.

(Chelsea sighs.).

Chelsea: I know I’m tired of this drive. We should have just got a plane.

Whitney: You know I hate flying.

Chelsea: I know but it would have been what a two hour flight, three tops? I’ve been driving for four and a half hours. We’ve still got...

(She glances at the sat nav.).

Chelsea: Two hours and twenty three minutes to go.

(Whitney sighs.).

Whitney: Sorry. I don’t like being stuck in the car either. But I hate flying even more. There must be a rest stop we can pull into soon. We could stretch our legs and grab something to eat. Then if you want I could drive the rest of the way.

Chelsea: Sounds good.

(Whitney leans back in her seat. A minute later her phone dings. She takes it out and smiles at the screen.).

Chelsea: Is that Alex?

Whitney: Yep.

Chelsea: He misses you already huh?

Whitney: Yep. I think he’s disappointed he wasn’t invited.

Chelsea: Oh yeah? Tough. This is a girls only holiday. No men.

Whitney: That’s what I said. He says your mom has had a bath and she’s had her breakfast.

Chelsea: He’s a good man.

Whitney: Yeah he is. Not many blokes would stay and look after their fiancées best mates mom while they went on holiday.

Chelsea: Nope. I did offer him money though. He wouldn’t take it. Neither would Jody.

Whitney: I know. My fiancée and his sister are the best.

Chelsea: They’ve been a godsend. I wouldn’t have been able to come on holiday without them.

Whitney: Nope.

(Chelsea suddenly frowns looking up ahead.).

Chelsea: What’s this idiot doing? Oh my God!

(The car is heading straight towards them. Chelsea swerves but not before the other car hits her sending her off of the road and into a tree.).

 *

 (Lester Sinclair hasn’t had a good morning. He’s been up since 4.30am checking his snares but it seems they have failed to catch anything. On his way back up the hill to his truck he fell and twisted his ankle which now hurts like a bitch. Then driving back into Ambrose he gets a flat tyre. He comes up the street and frowns as he sees a big RV parked at the side of the road. He’s sure it wasn’t there last night. Still frowning he drives past the RV and looks at it but can’t see anyone inside. He carries on driving passing the wax museum before pulling up in front of a house. He gets out and goes inside. The house is quiet. He goes to the kitchen and makes himself a sandwich. He sighs. They’re going to need some supplies again soon. He goes to the foot of the stairs eating his sandwich.).

Lester: Bo!

(There is no answer. He takes another bite of his sandwich and goes back to the kitchen. He must have slept down at the gas station again. He does that a lot. He finishes his sandwich then goes down the hall to the bathroom. He takes a piss and splashes some water on his face. He then leaves the house and gets the spare tyre. He changes the tyre and dumps the flat on the front lawn. He gets back in his truck. He’s gonna have to head back out, try and catch them some dinner. He sighs and drives off heading back down the road. He has just passed the RV when his truck makes a whining noise and the engine dies. He sighs and smacks the steering wheel hard.).

Lester: God fucking damnit!

(He gets out of the truck and lifts the hood having a look around. He sighs and takes his cap off rubbing his head. He’ll have to get Bo to look at it. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see a young blonde girl. She is wearing jeans and knee high black boots with stiletto heels. She is also wearing a tight black top and a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Bracelets adorn her wrists including one that looks like a child’s. Her hair is tied in a bun and she is wearing large earrings, silver with a black gem. They dangle from her ears like chandeliers. She has her eyes narrowed and she stops walking looking at him. He finds himself staring at her large breasts. He smiles and puts his cap back on.).

Lester: Hey there.

Mara: Car trouble?

Lester: Ah it just died on me.

Mara: Hm. Looks like it’s seen better days.

(Lester grins at her.).

Lester: Yeah.

Mara: So something wrong with the engine huh?

Lester: Looks like. Maybe the batteries flat.

Mara: Hm.

(Lester watches as she takes a look under the hood. She then reaches in and starts fiddling around with something. He walks over to her.).

Lester: So uh...You camping?

Mara: Camping? Do I look like the kind of girl that camps?

Lester: Well I don’t know. You don’t look like the kind of girl that can fix a truck but uh...

(Lester grins.).

Mara: I’ve er...Left.

Lester: Left?

Mara: Left home. Well...It never really felt like home.

(Mara fiddles around some more then walks round to the truck window. She reaches in and turns the key. The truck starts.).

Lester: Well damn.

Mara: You’re welcome.

(She closes the bonnet then turns and walks off.).

Lester: Much obliged.

(Lester gets into his truck and turns it around driving off.).

 *

 (Bo rubs his eyes and puts his cap on. He walks to the door of the gas station and stops when he sees Lester talking to a beautiful blonde across the street. The blonde is under the bonnet of Lester’s truck. She then goes to the window and starts the truck. Bo then watches as she closes the bonnet then smiles and walks off.).

Lester: Much obliged!

(Bo watches Lester drive off. Then he glances back up the street but he can no longer see the girl. Bo smiles to himself. They haven’t had any visitors for a while. Especially not any as beautiful as her. He looks down at his grease covered overalls and dirty hands. He’ll have to get cleaned up. He leaves the station and heads up the road. He glances around looking for the girl but he doesn’t see her. Maybe she’s gone into the church. He carries on walking and passes the wax museum. Vincent is most likely down in his workshop. Bo has no idea what he does down there when they don’t have any guests and he doesn’t care. He reaches the house and goes inside. He goes upstairs and into the bathroom. He takes off his clothes and turns the shower on. He steps under the water and grabs the soap. Once he’s washed he switches off the water and steps out grabbing a towel. He wraps it around his waist and goes to the sink. He picks up his razor and quickly shaves. He then towel dries his hair before combing it. He then goes down the hall to his bedroom. He takes out a suit and grins before getting dressed. He goes back downstairs and into the kitchen. He rummages around in cupboards and then opens the fridge. He sighs. He’ll have to go on a supply run soon. He checks his wallet and sighs again, he only has ten dollars. He wonders how much the pretty girl has on her. He quickly eats the last handful of cereal and tosses the empty box on the side before leaving the house.).

 *

 (Mara is walking around the wax museum. She has noticed several wax figures around the town. In shop windows, the movie theatre, the church. She frowns as she sees newspaper clippings behind the counter. She stands there staring at them then fiddles with her bracelet. She sighs and looks at the small wax figures on the counter. She picks up a ballerina and smiles at it before putting it back down. She looks around at the various paintings adorning the walls. They are all signed Vincent. She suddenly feels like she’s not alone and looks around frowning. She walks towards the back of the room and turns into a dining room. The table is set and she smiles and shakes her head. The detail is crazy. She turns her head and frowns as she sees two highchairs. She walks over to them. One of them has the name Bo printed on the back of the chair. The other reads Vincent. She runs her fingers over the highchair. She turns walking over to a doorway leading to a set of stairs. The stairs are lit by candles. She stands there thinking and turns looking around the room again frowning. She sighs. She slowly walks down the stairs careful not to lose her footing. She knew she shouldn’t have worn heels. She’s never been that great in them. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and enters a workshop. The place is lit with candles. She looks around and walks over to a desk. There are several wax masks sat on shelves and a dozen drawings. She stares at them before taking one from the wall. She stares down at it. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing here. And it looks like she’s not alone.).

[brakken-spideyverse]

Here’s another review! Almost up to date, now...

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

This film is fun, and cute!

I remember when I first saw it, I kind of got sensory overload. Because TASM2 was so dear to me, I was concerned about how I’d feel about a newly rebooted series. I was mostly pleased by it, and the more I’ve watched it, the things I like have amplified, and the things I dislike have diminished.

To start on something I like – well, that’s Peter. Tom Holland brings good energy to this version of the character. Separated from the plots themselves, I’m happy to have enjoyed all cinematic portrayals of Spidey, each enjoyable and unique – great covers of the same song. Tom’s Peter balances the weight of a hero’s responsibility with the excitement and naivety of a teenager really well - very eager to please and show off.

It’s nice to have a sense of believability to him and his friends. The Hollywood Highschool filter isn’t strong here – the characters all feel young, and still finding their feet. In one way, however, I do think this is a hindrance. Where many felt that the TASM Peter was ‘too cool’, here we have the opposite problem to an extent. Most of the students are goofy, nerdy, weirdos – to the point where those traits don’t stand out as much in Peter. Things like making Flash a nerdy bully avoids certain clichés, but our main character blends into the crowd a little in the process.

But dang, Spidey’s pretty fun in this, ain’t he? His scenes feel exciting in a whole different way than earlier iterations. The notorious MCU humour finds a home with this character, and we get to laugh and panic and cheer at his heroics. I find his consistent screw-ups get a little tiring by the end – I want to feel his confidence shift into a new gear as he grows up a bit, and they don’t deliver fully on that here. Some great design work, though. The moving lenses? Genius. The saturated red-and-blue? Beautiful. Some smaller embellishments I’m not too keen on, but hey, it doesn’t hurt the look too much. His theme music is good, while not hitting the absolute pinnacle I want from a Spidey theme, it does its job – but sounds best when it’s just doing the low-key ‘Peter Parker’ version of it.

In the earlier Phases, it was a common criticism that the individual films felt too separated from the wider universe. ‘Why doesn’t he just call the Avengers?’ was a question easily asked of each movie, and in turn the plots attempted to skirt around it. Civil War hung that question out to dry, and Homecoming followed up to show us that actually, this universe is indeed connected despite not always front and centre. The movie wears its lower stakes proudly – really wanting this to be the friendly neighborhood.

But… I do get tired in the scenes with Tony Stark, which is hard to reconcile with, as he’s what drives a lot of the plot forward – a plot I think is nicely structured. Tony in Homecoming almost feels like a caricatured version of the character from earlier movies, exaggerated to necessitate certain moments for Peter’s journey. For the most part I’m able to go along with it, as it’s not a movie about Iron Man, but I always get caught up on this when he comes off as overly disconnected to Peter. He brought him into the fold in Civil War, and here it really does feel like the kid is an afterthought. The movie wants you to be on board with the reality check he gives to Peter after the ferry, but I’ve never been completely sold on that.

And that stems partly from Karen. She is a problem for me! I’ve talked before about how a plot with a suit that puts a voice inside Peter’s mind and gives him unique abilities is far too in-key with a Symbiote storyline. In Homecoming, Karen is kind of a mixed bag of enabling Peter’s recklessness, or getting him into more trouble in spite of it. It’s all kicked off when he disables the ‘Training Wheels’ protocol… which is what, exactly? All it seems to do is hinder Peter from getting beyond what he already knows how to do. If the idea is to train Peter, why is Karen locked behind DLC instead of being there to guide Peter from the start, since Tony doesn’t seem keen to do so himself? Karen should be the training wheels.

It all builds to Peter lifting himself up out of the rubble. A wonderful moment. His simple chant of “Come on, Spider-Man!” hits beautifully for how I think about the character. But it’s a little deflated because it hinges around Tony’s words echoing back to him - it sorta gives the win to Tony, instead of Peter.

Vulture is a solid aspect of that afore-mentioned ‘shared universe’ feeling. His grudge against Tony Stark is this extra drop of backstory that makes his own motivations feel part of a broader world. It could easily have been exaggerated into a big ol’ revenge plot, but his focus on keeping under the radar makes things more interesting, and stays connected yet unhooked from the larger-scale MCU stuff. I think the 8-year time skip hurts Vulture most. Simply put, there’s really no tangible growth for his team across that skip to make it feel justified. Heck, their hairstyles haven’t even changed in all that time. The notion that Shocker 1 hasn’t caused a problem until now feels very contrived the more I watch it, and his death scene puts Toomes’ character into a grey area for me because of that. As far as visual designs which depart from the comics go, I love this one – it has just enough going on to hit the middle ground between a practical piece of equipment and a villainous bird costume, with his scavenging making it clear that he’s a particular kind of bird. And while it’s overused, I love his music. A twisted version of the Avengers theme, that is just loud and untidy, and annoyed.

When my favourite scene in a Spider-Man movie is with three characters sitting in traffic, something has either gone very wrong or very right. In this case, it’s the latter. I’m gonna be bold and say that the scene of driving to the dance is an example of tension written to perfection. So much of the movie has stacked to it without us knowing, and we’re allowed to watch that Jenga tower wobble… right itself… wobble again… and then the light turns green, and Toomes has it.

There’s a simplistic charm to Aunt May in this movie. It seems like each cinematic version of the character has scaled back her inspirational pep talks, but in doing so, also scaled back her presence and impact on Peter’s life. I wish she had more to do, or more relevance, but at the same time I do like seeing her just… helping him get ready for the dance.

MJ never really hit home in this movie for me. I feel she’s stuck in the limbo of a middle-tier character - not given enough to do to justify her showing up, nor  does she lack substance to the point of relegating her to the background. This is a meta-critique, but it’s just weird that she’s on the poster for this movie, and not Liz, or Ned. She gets more to do in the sequels, but her presence here almost feels out of preparation for that, than anything else.

It's hard to properly judge the film’s ending given how things follow up in Infinity War. Peter walking down the steps, away from the Avengers HQ with a big smile on his face is a very satisfying moment. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, here we go—oh, wait, nope… now he’s in space. Connecting to the larger MCU proves to be a strength and a weakness, so while I enjoy the ending here, it’s an aspect of this iteration that I have continued to wrestle with, as have the films themselves.

It's good, it’s fun, and there’s a lot of simple and solid Spidey stuff – that is both elevated and hampered by the Avengers spotlight.

Rating:

[fogsrollingin]

Posted this to reddit yesterday here 😊 Spoilers for Walker up to ep 2.

So there are questions I have about the status quo as of S1E2 that could be solved with a big corruption-within-the-force story.

Emily dies (read: may have died) and they quickly find the killer, and yeah maybe he's the guy who pulled the trigger but how did that guy find her when Walker had told her the safe routes? This is still a mystery! Episode 2 did not wrap it up, unlike the other 2 mysteries of the Poker Chip and the Closed Eyes.

Next, it's highly suspect that Walker's thrown straight into an undercover operation that takes him 10 months to see through. Like, who got him that gig? Why do they hate him and his family? "I'm gonna take this career cop away from a stable life while he grieves his recently-deceased wife, rip him from his kids (they prolly don't need him anyway right?), and make him risk his life undercover."

And ok so maybe I've only been informed by The Departed and Johnny Brasco when it comes to undercover officers, but it stands to reason too that undercover cops are supposed to be young or at least with very few ppl waiting up for them, and expected to burn out/retire once their cover's up. So, I have a whole buncha questions to ask about who would've greenlit Walker for that. Extra questions about how he's back on the force afterwards? Are we not afraid of retribution from those he put behind bars (or their family)? He's kind of identifiable; he has a striking appearance and he's like 6'4. He could very easily get made if he's as visible as a Texas Ranger.

So idk, I can only conclude it's kinda bad writing that a corrupt-higher-up stupidly thought an undercover gig would take Walker's mind off the things that don't make sense about Emily's death, would cool him down, chill him out.

...and it would be super funny if the villain gets taken down by a flawed understanding of grief psychology. Bc they sent Walker undercover for him to get him away from the case, to chill out but really they just got him to press 'pause' on his entire friggin life. As time passed, they felt its passage, and think water is streaming under that bridge. They lull themselves into complacency Walker's gonna come back having come to terms with his wife's death.

Meanwhile Walker's like nowhere even close to that. He's busy pretending to be someone else, actively not processing anything bc he's compartmentalizing. And when Walker returns to Austin, psychologically presses 'play' on Emily, it's literally as though she'd just died a month or two prior for him.

nobodylikedthat.jpg, but especially the ppl who'd sent him undercover to stop him from doing that very dang thing 😂

To bring it back to the brilliant irony of a villain getting taken down by a flawed understanding of grief psychology. Immediately after Emily's death, all parties involved may have been stressed, cagey, wouldn't talk or maybe even had a script memorized down pat. But 10 months later? Another questioning about that murder case which was solved? Probably not.

So it's like if the villain had just let Walker freak out and investigate Emily's death at the same time everybody else was, his issues might've been put to bed. But now it's 10 months later, and Walker's got the same passion as he would've had 1-2ish months after her death, and he's in a fantastic position, time-wise, to shake some trees and discover some mysterious discrepancies about Emily's death bc nobody's expecting him to ask anymore ("It's been so looong Walker, what are you doingggg")

I would love this.

Kind of a sidebar: as for suspects, there was that older gentleman in the pilot who attended Walker's homecoming while Walker was drinking at the DWG (Dead Wife Gazebo). I think he must've been Walker's police contact while undercover? There was something about how he really praised Walker for everything he did undercover. So that fuckin guy. I don't trust that guy. 😂

Sub-sidebar note: I wrote this like I think Emily's dead but I'm really hoping Emily's not dead. Most of this is about Cordell's grief though, and for sure in this series so far he definitely thinks she's dead as a doornail .

[quackeroos]

paper airplanes | p.parker

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Summary: peter wants to talk to y/n to clarify what he heard, but she avoids him like the plague. (PART 3 of Locker Notes)

Warnings: swearing, break downs

Words: enjoy 5.4k of word vomit

A/n: Sooo I haven’t made a masterlist of this yet which kinda sucks lol. I’m gonna fix it soon, so I’ll let you guys know. Also, I’m planning to release a new Peter Parker x reader mini-series! I haven’t started writing it yet but the plot is already laid out, I just have to start writing it lol. Anywaaaay please leave some comments and your thoughts about this and what you think might happen next. Constructive criticism is also DEEPLY appreciated.  ❤️

*gif is not mine 

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Dude, you’re staring again.”

Peter whipped his head towards Ned’s direction, awaken from a daze. His face contorts into confusion as he hummed out a reply. “What?”

“You’re staring at her again.” Ned nodded off towards Y/n Toomes, who was peacefully eating her lunch with different kinds of paper and midliners scattered across her table. She was twirling a pen in her hand and was pursing her lips every now and then, struggling to comprehend the formula on her textbook. 

  Peter kept quiet and slurped his carton of milk, anything to divert his attention from her mannerism. The teenager started observing her after the ‘Parker Therapy’- which was months ago- seeing as she wasn’t really who people thought she was. And now, after the little ‘locker note’ incident, Peter started noticing the little mannerism that she does, and he would be lying if he told himself that he didn’t find her attractive. And after hearing the soft mumble that escaped her lips, Peter was starting to question a lot of things. One of which were how he saw her; friend or… something more?

   “Why don’t you just talk to her Peter? I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you? How hard is it to go and do it again? Just go up to her and say, ‘Hey Y/n, can we talk?’.”

  “It’s not that simple, Ned.” He sighed, “It’s hard to communicate with her- she doesn’t open up easily. It took me a while back at the rooftop, so I don’t think I’m gonna get those answers anyway.”

“So, what now dude? Are you gonna just sit here and stare at her like a love-sick puppy?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah definite- wait. A love-sick puppy?” 

“Dude, you’re literally crushing on Y/n Toomes! How come you haven’t noticed it yourself?”

Peter shakes his head frantically, afraid of the students that flocked around them who might have heard, and God was he hoping that they didn’t. “Sssshh! Dude! It’s not like that, okay?” It was hard to survive high school with Flash already on his back, and he didn’t want to start another Middle school incident that involved Flash telling everyone that he liked Millie Chapman. And let’s just say, it involved Millie giving him the finger and moving to another city. But did he really like Y/n Toomes? Ned might just be overexaggerating. He liked Liz. Liz, the senior girl who has been nothing but kind to him and Ned since freshman year. Liz who was a dear to everyone and made sure the decathlon team would win every competition. Liz, who was so out of reach. But isn’t that what dates are for? To get to know the person better? Peter chose to believe that.

“I like Liz. I’m still gonna ask her to homecoming.”

Ned gave him the ‘yeah right’ look, not fully believing what he said. “And how exactly are you gonna do that?”

Peter was caught of guard. Dang, he hadn’t decided on that one yet. He always got stuck on being himself and some grand romantic gesture for her. He cringed at the thought. Does Liz even like grand romantic gestures? Peter was stuck in a loop.

 “I honestly don’t know, man.”

***

Chemistry period came and half the class were almost dozing off. It was when the doors burst open all the students woke slightly, making them jump in their seats, as well as the teacher. Peter pushed the drawer and hides away his stock of web fluid, attention now at the door.

“Sorry, Sir. The Student Council had an urgent meeting.” Y/n said in heavy breaths. Her forehead was glistening with sweat and her hair was a bit of a mess. She held her books, papers, and binder in one arm. Peter could feel her heartbeat beating loudly from where he was sitting.

“Do you have your permit?” She fished out the piece of paper from her binder and hands it her teacher.

“Alright. You can go ahead and take a seat beside Parker.”

Peter’s ears perked up at the mention of his name. He met her eyes and just how he first saw her, her eyes were unreadable. Everything on the outside was unreadable. But he could feel her heart race faster and louder once he saw him. And he could’ve sworn that he caught her tighten her grip on the books and binder.

Y/n mumbled a silent ‘Thank You.’ and made her way towards his table. Setting down her things and taking the seat beside him. She purposely moved it a bit farther from him and this did not go unnoticed by Peter. He somehow got hurt by this little action, and he didn’t know why.

The teenage boy tried to distract himself from looking at her. It already made him nervous about the thought of bringing up their recent conversation and the fact that she was right beside him was not helping at all. Peter bounced his leg, stared at the board, and tapped his pen against the desk, anything just to distract his unanswered thoughts.  

“Stop that.” A voice pulled him away from his mind. His neck craned a bit towards the source. Y/n’s brows were furrowed, and she wore a frown. Her eyes remained on the board as she wrote on her notebook. “It’s fucking annoying.” She mumbled the last so she wouldn’t be heard by the teacher in front. 

After her cold warning, Peter kept to himself. He could feel the embarrassment rise to his ears. Great, how exactly am I gonna talk to her now? Peter could only wish they were still on that rooftop, conducting their little Parker Therapy. Back then it was easier to reach out to her, seeing as she was vulnerable and transparent. But the Y/n he was sitting with now? She was this intimidating block of ice who doesn’t have any intention on making contact with him.

Because of her cold exterior, Peter wondered even more about how she came to like him when she doesn’t even show it? Peter had only felt her heartbeat now, but he could’ve sworn he also felt it during their first encounter. He knew Y/n was good at hiding her feelings, so it wasn’t a surprise when he hadn’t notice it right away. 

But are his suspicions correct? Does Y/n Toomes like him? He had to know the answers, or else the thoughts would be plaguing his mind for weeks. 

The bell rang, and as soon as Mr. Nelson dismissed the class, Y/n shot up from her seat and quickly gathers her things and headed straight for the door. If Peter didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed that Y/n was avoiding him like the plague. 

“Y/n, wait.” He called out and reached for the sleeve of her beige sweater. But it slips from his hand as she tugs it away from him.

“I have to get to class.” She replied blandly and leaves the room. 

And with that simple act, it confirmed Peter’s assumption.

***

“Why don’t you just write her a letter again and slip it into her locker like the last time you did with Liz?” his tanned friend suggested, ripping out a piece of paper from one of his notebooks and started folding the corners. 

“First of all, you slipped it in her locker. Second, she’ll probably think someone is playing a sick joke on her.” Third, she’ll easily know that it was him

“Then how about you wait for her after school? She always stays late for Student Council and Homecoming planning.” 

“I’ll come off looking too weird.”

“Text her?”

“I don’t even have her number!”

Ned huffed, “I don’t know dude. I’m all out of ideas.” He finished folding the paper and threw the plane out of boredom. The paper airplane glided across the classroom and crashed pathetically at the corner of the room. Peter eyed the origami and he lit up at the idea that came into his mind. 

“Ned, that’s it!” he jumped up from his seat.

Ned, confused by his sudden outburst, “What did I do?”

And before he could even question his best friend again, Peter was already out the door, his shoes squeaking against the newly polished floor.

***

Y/n Toomes wasn’t a difficult person to find, despite being a busy girl who had a lot on her plate. If Y/n wasn’t at the Student Council room, she would either be in an empty classroom, the rooftop, or the library. 

Peter found her at the library. 

She was hunched over a book and like the sight from the cafeteria, notes and midliners scattered her table. Nobody dared to sit with her, even though the library only had a few students in it. The librarian walked over to her table and conversed with her for a bit. The girl smiled as she nodded at the old woman and she gladly returned the gesture to her.

Peter found her smile contagious, it also made the corners of his lips tug upwards. God, he felt like creep.  Snap out of it Peter! He takes out the paper airplane he made beforehand and smoothing out the wrinkled corners. His head peeks out from the bookshelf and aimed it towards her table. He really hoped this would work. With a deep breath, he throws the paper and quickly hides behind the shelf, taking cover. 

The paper glided swiftly across the room and successfully landed on Y/n’s table and immediately caught her attention. Peter watched silently, his heart pounding in anxiety. He couldn’t bear to watch, so he left the room and decided to wait for tomorrow to come. She held the origami in her hand and looked at her surroundings, curious and wary of a possible stalker. 

The paper airplane had her name written on it, and she could’ve sworn she had already seen the handwriting before. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that someone threw this at her, it was done on purpose. Her curiosity getting the best of her, Y/n unfolds the paper and reads the scribbled note. 

We need to talk. I need to know something, and you have to clear it out for me. If you don’t mind, I wanna do another therapy with you. We can talk at one of our classes together or at the rooftop.

 I’ll be waiting, Stranger. ;)

The note crumpled in her hands. Y/n could feel her face become red; either from embarrassment or annoyance, she didn’t know. Hadn’t she made herself clear to him that she didn’t want to interact with him at all? After their conversation at the gates of the school, Y/n wanted nothing more than to disappear from his line of sight, become invisible to Peter Parker and forget about every interaction they made. Even their little “Parker Therapy” that still held a place in her heart and mind. 

Peter was the first person she felt comfortable around with in a long time. Sure, Liz’s Mom was a dear, she felt a bit comfortable with her, and she was thankful for her, but she never really felt close to her, despite everything she does just to make her feel at home and loved like how her parents did. 

Peter Parker was the first person who felt a bit like home, even though she had only met him personally on that first encounter. God, what has become of her? Getting attached so easily to a guy she barely knew? Y/n had started noticing the little things Peter did during class, lunch and after school. She was everything she thought he would be; a soft nerd with a heart of gold. And it only made her fall for him even more. 

 What happened to her? She fell into a dark abyss, that’s what. 

And in a span of a few months.

Y/n needed to forget about having feelings for him. She realized that as soon as her feelings dawned on her. He was already interested in someone anyway. So why bother with trying to get his attention or confessing? She has too many things to prioritize anyway. And dealing with a broken heart or having any romantic feelings for a softie nerd is not on table. It has to be locked away and thrown to a trench- never to resurface again.

But another problem resurfaces: She was going to have to confront Peter Parker tomorrow.

***

To say that Peter Parker was worried was a little understatement, he was actually terrified. How long has it been since they had that first heart to heart session? Months? Probably. And their last conversation didn’t at all go smoothly. He could still remember her flushed cheeks, her hot tears falling, and her hiccups. And deep inside Peter he felt hurt seeing her like that. Why though? Was it because she was crying or because he was guilty?

Why the hell would I be guilty? Peter was confusing himself even more. 

He was pulled away from his thoughts when he saw Liz walk through the halls. She was beautiful, and Peter couldn’t tell himself to stop staring. They briefly made eye contact and she smiled at him, making his heart go thump thump thump. Peter woke again from his daze when he saw Y/n following behind her cousin. She wore a yellow-knitted sweater, mom jeans, and a pair of white Converses that were a little bit worn out. He saw that same style on countless of girls he would pass by, it was ordinary.  But why did she stuck out of the hundred of students that were passing by?

Her eyes flick towards him and he held the eye contact. There was something unreadable in her eyes but he could hear the familiar beats he heard yesterday. Gradually increasing in pace as they held the eye contact even longer, and Peter could feel his own heart beating too. Y/n gave him a sullen glance before walking away in a much faster pace. Peter stood there, feeling his heart. 

What was happening to him?

  Y/n dumps all her textbooks inside her locker then takes out her notebooks and other things needed for the day. She could feel the little organ inside her rib cage jump up and down in excitement. She placed her hand to calm it down- and it helped, but just a tiny bit. Why was he staring? Why the hell was he staring? Secretly, she peeks from the door of her locker, just to make sure if he was still there.

 He was, and Peter was also looking. 

The slam of her door made the passerby students and the ones beside her jumping at the sudden sound. Y/n walked fast, not caring if she were to bump in some students every now and then. She had to get away from Peter Parker. There was no way in hell she was going to have that conversation with him.

Y/n found herself at peace in English class. Sure, the teacher was a like a fly when discussing the lesson and it kinda bored her classmates out because of the pieces of literature and the constant discussion on proper grammar, but Y/n enjoyed it. Chemistry and English were her fortes, besides being (a little bit) bossy. She was about to take a short nap, after not getting any no thanks to the paper airplane she received yesterday. The lesson was easy after all, and Kevin Mullan, who was twice her size, was perfect coverage for her nap session.

She was about to lay her head on her desk when something pointy poked her arm and landed on her desk. It was another paper airplane. In her head, Y/n was screaming fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! While on the outside she was staring at the folded paper like a bomb waiting to explode. Her eyes calmly searched the room for a familiar mop of brown hair and puppy-like eyes. Lo and behold, there he was, Peter Parker, who was sitting at the farthest seat with a sheepish smile and an awkward wave. 

Since when did he take this class?

  Her sleep-deprived state wasn’t helping her at all. She was starting to forget the littlest things to avoid him at all cost. Peter had more than one classes with her this year compared to last year.

His face egged her to unfold the paper airplane, and slowly she did.

Did you get the other one? I really have to talk to you. There are some things on my mind and you’re the only one who can answer them. It’ll just be another Parker Therapy, so it’ll just be the two of us. What do you say, Stranger?

She turned to him and finds that he had been looking at her the whole time with an expectant look on his face, his knee bobbing up and down, and his habit of playing with his pen. He only did that when he was anxious about something.

Deep inside, Y/n wanted nothing more than to go up on that rooftop with him and spend the rest of the day talking more about their experiences and relating to each other. But she knew what she had to do, or else it would be even harder to forget about the feelings that were building up.

And so, she writes down her response, crumples the piece of paper and throws it back to Peter, who had easily caught it even though he had been taking notes. Y/n didn’t wait for his reaction, so she turns back towards the front and laid her head on her palm and started to doze off. 

No. That was a one-time thing, I’m not doing that again. And stop calling me with that nickname. It pisses me off. 

Peter gulped and the slightly threatening note. He could hear her menacing tone and the icy spit by just reading her response. He kind of expected it though, like last time. She wasn’t an easy egg to crack, so it was going to take a lot more than just two paper airplanes to get the response he wanted. Peter was sure he was gonna get more than just spiteful words coming out of her mouth after this. 

She felt another poke on her left arm, and the familiar texture of paper resting above it. Y/n’s head was starting to boil. And not getting desired sleep plus Peter Parker’s constant letter sending was surely to drive her to her wits’ end. 

I’m not gonna stop sending these if you don’t say yes. :) 

God how she hated him. Her eye twitched while reading the taunting note. The smiley face at the end almost look like it was laughing at her vexation. Who was he to think he can do this to her? They weren’t friends, not even acquaintances. They just happen hit it off at the rooftop and know a little more about each other than other people who surrounded them.

  What the fuck do you want from me, Parker?

  Again, like before, she crumpled the paper and threw it to his desk a little bit more harshly, and he had caught it perfectly, with a smug little smirk dancing on his lips. All the more reason for Y/n to get pissed off. This little shit! Peter knew he was really gonna get it this time. The nerve that appeared on her forehead said so and how she was now harshly writing on her notebook, tearing it, and crumpling it into a ball. It was too late for him too notice the incoming paper, and this time - it had already hit him in the face.

“Ms. Toomes!” the teacher yelled. 

Her voice boomed throughout the classroom, catching the attention of everyone. Peter winced at the sound of her shrill voice and the pain on his nose that he was sure would leave a small mark. What was in that paper? Rocks? he rubbed the sore spot.

“I didn’t start this, Ms. Warren!” Y/n’s voice loomed over the now silent room. “Parker was passing notes during the discussion.” 

Ms. Warren raised an accusatory brow. “And what was in the paper?”

Her lips sealed shut and stared silently at the adult. She didn’t want to tell the whole class what Peter was up to, but she wanted him to finally stop. Should she tell her? “Go on, tell us. What was in the paper that had you two throwing it back and forth?” the teacher pressed. She could feel his anxious stare drilling at the back of her head while Peter waited for a reply.

“N-nothing, Ms. Warren.” she mumbled quietly in shame.

 The teacher didn’t say anything, instead, she takes the pink pad from her table, takes her pen, and gives the pink slip to her. Repeating the action, she gives one to Peter also. He didn’t protest, just silently took the paper and bowed his head in shame. Y/n was the first one out of the door, pushing through the doors to get to detention before he does.

 Upon entering the room, Peter already sees her sitting at the farthest corner of the room with her head laid down, hair covering her face like a curtain. He felt guilty, partly because he was the main of cause of both of them getting detention. He noticed it before, that dark circles were under her eyes and the vibe she would give off when entering school was a little off. Peter can notice a stressed-out person when he sees one, and Y/n was in fact under the weight of it all. The guilt added more. I’m a horrible and selfish person.

Once Mr. Dell excused himself to go to the restroom, Peter moved to the seat beside her. He leaned close, close enough to hear her soft snores (which Peter found adorable) and smell her signature scent, which smelled heavenly. He carefully places the bottle of raspberry iced tea and the breakfast sandwich he had bought from Delmar’s on the way to school. There was barely any space left on her table, so Peter tried his best sneaking it inside her backpack without disturbing Y/n from her peaceful state. She shifted in her seat, and her hair uncovered half of her face. Peter froze at her sudden motion and studied her for a moment before proceeding to place the food. 

Y/n felt something move in her bag, either there was something inside of it or someone was stealing something from her. She stirred awake, eyes slowly opening, and a wave of soft brown tufts greeted her. She knew that wavy lock very well, and the signature scent that she had become hooked on. A part of her wanted to jolt up and make him back away, at least until after detention. But the other part was just keeping her, to just stay, pretend to sleep and maybe he’ll go away on his own. And whatever it was that he was putting inside her bag, she can throw it out any time. 

And so, Y/n stayed. 

The shuffling in her bag stopped, but his presence was still near. She wanted to open her eyes a little, just to take a peek if Peter had gone back to his original seat. But the hair in her eye made it difficult to do so and it was starting to itch her eyelids. She badly wanted to scratch it away. Planning to just go ahead and do it (he won’t even notice she’s awake anyway if her eyes are closed) she scratched away the itch, which relieved her for a bit, only for the sensation to come back. Y/n flinched when she felt her strand of hair move away from her eyes, and it caused her eyes to open.

She had expected Peter was the one in front of her, what she didn’t expect though was how close he was to her face. Close enough for her to see his freckles scatter on his face like stars that could be connected and make out constellations, see every strand of eyelash that she could count if she wanted, and the pools of chocolate brown. 

The same thing could be said for Peter. He didn’t know what drew him in to do what he did and lean in closer to observe her features. It was the first time he was examining Y/n’s features up close. His palms became sweaty, and he gulped at the proximity. Was he supposed to be this close? Her scent became intoxicating the closer her got and he was starting to get addicted to the smell of old books and a bit of jasmine

Realization dawned upon them as soon as they felt each other’s breath on their skin. Y/n jumped away from seat and had her back on the wall, Peter moving a seat away from hers with eyes blown wide at the sudden shock. Both teenagers were flustered, hearts pounding and heat rushing up to their faces. 

“What the hell were you doing?!” she screamed at him.

“I-I uhm...” he started pathetically. “I wanted to give you some snacks? You look like you haven’t eaten breakfast or slept, so- so I just thought I’d give you mine. I’m not even that hungry anyway, and I ate some cereal before I left. I mean oatmeal! Not cereal, ‘coz ah-uhm... Never mind.  A-And I noticed you were scratching your eye, so I moved your hair out of the way so you could sleep better, and you kind of just... woke up.” 

Y/n frowned. “That still doesn’t explain why you were literally inches away from my face, Parker.” 

Because I wanted to look at you. “Uhmm.. I-I was there because.. I-”

“You know what, don’t answer that. It was rhetorical. Just keep yourself on the other side of the classroom.” She zips her bag open, removing the contents Peter had placed inside. “And I’m not some charity case, so you can just go ahead and keep your food.” She slings her bag on her shoulder and moved three rows ahead of her previous seat. Hopefully the distance she placed was already clear to Peter that she doesn’t want him near her. But Peter only moves more, but just a row behind her so that he wouldn’t overstep the imaginary boundary she had placed for herself. 

“There’s also something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.” He started expectantly. “We can keep this to ourselves, so you don’t have to-”

“Whatever it is, Parker, I don’t want to answer it okay?”she cut him off easily. “ If it’s about Liz, you can go ahead and talk to Betty about that. If it’s something related to homecoming, approach anyone from the committee. If you want to talk about putting the both of us here in detention, I don’t give a flying fuck.” 

“It’s about you, actually.” he spoke softly. He hoped that saying this, it might intrigue her into talking to him. Openly, just how things were at the rooftop. “I didn’t mean to hear it, but I did. And... And it kind of- confused me? I wasn’t even sure if I heard it right but-”

“Peter, I really don’t wanna talk to you right now.” She exhaled tiredly. He was taken aback by her sudden change in tone, the change in the air, and the way he said his name. That was the first time he heard her say his name. “I know you’re trying to get me to open up to you just like in the rooftop, and that you have a lot of questions regarding me. But I really don’t want to, okay. I’m tired, and I’m hurting.” Physically and Emotionally, she thought.

 “Can you just... go back to how you were before we had that talk? Go back to being Peter Parker who knew me as Liz’s cousin, co-head for the homecoming committee, student council member, and the bossy foul-mouth sophomore, just like how everybody does. Just... give me the peace of mind, okay. I’m stressed, I’m tired, I’m drained and everything in my body hurts, and I just can’t deal with you.” 

Y/n panted once she burst it out. It was only half of the thoughts that kept her awake, but she figured it was enough information for him to know. She didn’t want to give out that she liked him, that she needed to keep her distance, or that she was hurting because of him. 

Peter stared at her dumbfounded. Had she always been super stressed out? Was he so caught up on knowing the truth that he hadn’t notice Y/n was already about to explode? He tried piecing everything together, he hadn’t fully understood everything that she said. The only thing he had caught on was that she was tired, in pain, and she doesn’t want to deal with him. That she doesn’t want to talk to him. Is this her closing herself off or was all the exhaustion finally hitting her and Peter had just set her off? He felt the guilt weigh down on his chest and he did not like the feeling. 

The ringing off the bell cut through the silence, and the heavy tension in the air went away. Mr. Dell hadn’t come back from his trip to the restroom (Peter assumed he went for number two). It was time for them to go to their next class, and Y/n took it upon herself to go and leave the room. 

“Whatever it is you plan on asking me, just forget about it, okay?” she lets out a tired sigh. “What you heard about me, what you heard me saying, or anything, drop it. I don’t really care how people look at me now, what they think of me, or what they think they know about me. Because honestly, I’m tired of everything, and I just want to finish this school year.” She took her bag and left the room, running into Mr. Dell, who had just returned from the restroom. Y/n acknowledged him before leaving the detention room and went on her way to her next class.

“Aren’t you leaving, Parker? You’ll be late for class.” Mr. Dell called out to him snapping him away from his thoughts. He fumbled with his response and quickly exits the room. 

Everything was a blur for the rest of the day. He saw her every now and then in the hallway and in lunch, but she would avoid his gaze and look on straight ahead. The stress was still clear on her face and body language, but she held her head high all throughout the day and managed to fool the people around her. Everyone but Peter. That was the thing he had acquired after seeing Y/n vulnerable  two times.. And he knew that she was keeping everything together just to get the day done. 

By the time Peter got home, he was alone. Aunt May was still at work and would be a little late than usual because of workload, so he was all alone with his thoughts. He was deeply confused. He didn’t get the answers he was hoping for, but something tells him that she had left crumbs in the middle of her sentences. He was piecing it together, but he couldn’t. Girls were hard to understand, he couldn’t grasp anything Y/n was trying to say, and it frustrated him not knowing anything. God, how he wished May was here to help him understand. 

He eventually became tired and wanted to just forget everything. Maybe then he wouldn’t be overthinking everything. Peter went out for patrol to clear his head. It eventually worked, but that was until he saw the familiar yellow sweater walking just below him. Y/n was walking down the street, with bags that held different kinds of arts materials for Homecoming. He couldn’t help but follow her with his eyes. She stopped by a black car and opened the back door, loading all of her purchases. Before getting in she looked around warily. Peter could tell that she must’ve sensed him watching her. Luckily enough, she didn’t look his way and went inside the car, driving out their parking and going home. 

Peter got back to his apartment and May was already home, cooking up meatloaf. He changes back into his clothes and went out to join his aunt for dinner. He ate, he did a bit of his homework, brushed his teeth and went to bed. It took him a while to finally get some shut eye, and once he did, he dreamed of getting lost again in pools of familiar e/c eyes and the smell of old books and jasmine on a rainy day.

Peter slept with a warm feeling in his heart despite his troubled mind about the girl in the yellow sweater.

-

enjoyed this story? let’s talk about it!

taglist (people who might be interested and who applied to the taglist):  @hollandroos @roses-hxlland @pastelpeter​ @fairytaleparker​ @hey-marlie​ @delicatepeterparker @chxrryholland @hollandcuddles @dahliaspidey @tomhollandeu hey @websliingingfarfromhaz @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @pixiehollands @screamholland @painting-galaxiis @parker-holland-osterfield @hazsterfield @tomblrholland @spiderneds @kii-miii @lolaywrites @emilykjhgsj  @painting-galaxiis @blossomholland @webslinging @tsh-darling @megaprincesscakes @parkerpeter24 @sovereignparker @andycanbeemotional @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @midtownpetey​ @euphoria-parker​ @curlystom​ @parkeret​ @spideycuddles​ @wazzupmrstark

sorry to those people who were supposed to be in the taglist! i’m currently organizing it coz it’s a little bit messed up.

add yourself to my taglist!

[motleymoose]

Homecoming Pt. 3: Bits & Pieces Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Ashes in a Vacuum

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorain (Din Djarin), Gender Neutral Reader, The Child Words: 2.5k+ Warnings: Injury, Angst, A whole lotta attitude

Summary:

I AM ALL SORTS OF ANGRY AT THAT FRAGGING BUCKETHEAD!!! He's leaving me with more questions than I have the ability to ask, and I don't like it one bit.

But dang, that little greenie is cute!

Notes:

Heya! Thank y'all for reading!!! I'm not sure how many chapters this part is gonna have, so??? We're coming up on the halfway point of the story. Maybe my editing skills will improve by then (ha).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Homecoming Masterlist

The way everything hurt, I was sure I was dying.

Squinting at the dim, fuzzy gray light of my bunk, I ran an internal diagnostics check. With every little wiggle and flex of an appendage, I gradually realized that I was not, in fact, dying, but I wasn’t in prime fighting shape either. Slowly, gingerly, I scrubbed sleep from my burning eyes with the heels of my palms, my vision spotty and fuzzy in places. It felt good to let them linger, pressing heavily into the closed eyelids and relieving the pressure built up behind my eyeballs. As killer headaches went, the one I was experiencing in that moment wasn’t the worst I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like doshing kung.

Now that I was sorta awake, I took physical stock of my body. My eyes still wouldn’t clear, the large flecks of gray shadow swimming lazily in my periphery, so I used touch to see what was going on. Letting my hands do the work, I started with my head, running my fingers lightly down my neck to my shoulders and chest. Something felt off about the shape of my body as I continued to scan downwards to my hips. Foggy memories swirled inside my head, screaming and pain and choking smoke. A jumbled mess of noise and smells overpowered everything else, and the bits and pieces of the fight and flight from Bosph scattered nervously into the darker recesses of my brain.

Frustrated, I sat up, ignoring the sharp tug at the pit of my elbow and the violent, painful thumping rattling my brain. “Fragging buckethead,” I hissed through clenched teeth. He had got me in this mess. Sure, it was my fault for getting a bounty put on me, but if only he’d listened to me in the first place, we coulda avoided Bosph entirely. The anger, bitter and sparkling and pulsing red, numbed the headache and the bruises slightly. And as the ire rose, so too did the functionality of my brain.

I could focus now on what my hands had been trying to tell me: all of my possessions, from my boots to my jumpsuit and everything in between or tucked into pockets, was gone. A worn coarseweave tunic hung from my curved shoulders, the sleeves neatly rolled up around my biceps, and a newer looking pair of long johns, the baggy legs bunched around my knees, had replaced my utilitarian and well-loved apparel.

Oh Mother of Kwath! Had the Mandalorian undressed me?! I mean, I was an adult. He was an adult. And apparently I had been injured enough to warrant such an invasion of privacy. Still, I couldn’t fight the blush burning brightly across my chest and face.

So doshing uncomfortable.

Nope, nope, nope. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Pushing down all of the humiliation and trauma and apprehension until the feelings were little more than an annoying itch under my skin, I allowed the rage to take over a little more. It was easier to be angry than to feel anything else, the outrage a warming presence in my chilly body. It also gave me the little boost of courage for what I had to do next.

Screwing my eyes shut, incredibly unprepared for the worst possible outcome, I touched the place under my collarbone where my silver skull pendant rested, a solid, reassuring weight...

Nothing.

Instead of skin-warmed metal, I was met with warm, padded resistance. Peering into the neck of the tunic, I found a thick, dull-colored wrap encasing my midsection from under my armpits to my hip bones. It smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. Bacta. Whatever injury I had sustained must’ve been bad enough to call for the precious, oftentimes expensive goo. The wrap wasn’t so tight as to constrict breathing or some movements, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The physical uncomfortableness brought me back to the question of why the bounty hunter was keeping me alive, but just like all the other feelings, I ignored it. I needed to find my clothes, my necklace. Get dressed. Leave this beautiful ship and her tyrant pilot behind and become a krill farmer out on the Outer Rim.

Well, probably not a farmer. A droid mech, perhaps.

The soft skin on the inside of my elbow twinged again, pulling me out of my daydreams as I reached for the blanket covering the lower half of my body. A thin, clear tube snaked from a needle inserted into a vein to a nearly-empty pouch hanging from a hook in the bunk wall. Fumbling, my fingernails worked their way underneath the sticky medical tape, peeling up an edge wide enough to pinch. I ripped the tape from my arm, gritting as it pulled hair and skin with it. Once the tape was gone, I slid the needle out of my arm with a hiss, tossing it aside to leak between the cot and the bunk wall. Whatever cocktail of drugs the bounty hunter had mixed into the IV, he’d probably added a good dose of sedative to keep me down for the count. That would’ve explained the fogginess.

And it made me so mad.

I let the full-blown, all-consuming fury in, jerking the coarseweave blanket off of me and freeing my legs. Exhaling forcefully, I tested my injured knee, poking at the matching bacta bandage. The original searing-white agony I had experienced on Bosph was muted now, less of a screaming torment and more of a dull throbbing. Healed enough to put weight on. Hopefully

Groaning and cursing at stiff muscles and bucketheaded hunters respectively, I wriggled on the bed until my bare feet skimmed the floor. The cold steel of the hull platform sent shivers through my flesh, feeding the annoyance and anger and frustration. I inhaled, steadying myself for the shooting pain sure to follow standing on both legs. Pleasantly astonished as I was that it didn’t hurt too horribly, I wasn’t prepared for the lightheadedness. The blood rushed from my face, my vision blackening around the edges.

“Oh frag,” I managed to croak before slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. --------------- I awoke, some time later, inside my bunk. The coarseweave blanket was tucked firmly beneath my chin, the IV reinserted into my arm, and my red-hot rage completely dissipated. An imposing, blurry figure stood at the foot of the bunk, and I took my time adjusting myself from lying flat to reclining, eyes tightly shut to avoid the spinning shadows. Once I was comfortable, I cracked an eyelid. The Mandalorian’s blurred steely stare greeted me, a clear bag of liquid over one arm and a sling supporting the other.

“You’re awake,” he stated matter of factly.

“D-Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of travelling in silence,” I replied dryly, voice husky with disuse. “By the way, where’s my jumpsuit?” I opened my eyes all the way, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog coating them. It didn’t work.

The bounty hunter harrumphed softly. “Incinerated. You had a fractured knee, two broken ribs and a blaster wound to the stomach. Plus severe retinal damage and dehydration. You’re lucky you even made it off-planet.” He angled his visor away from me to tap out something on his vembrace.

“Wait, what?”

He tilted his visor towards me and put it simply. “You almost died.”

I feebly waved the non-IVed hand in front of my face. “No, not that. Did you say you incinerated all of my stuff?!”

Ignoring me, per his style, he continued to tap on his vembrace’s control panel.

Devastated, depressed and not a little bit murderous, I glowered squintily at him. I was reeling inwardly, but on the outside I was colder than carbonite.

As he ignored me, I studied him as closely as my recovering vision would allow. I could tell there was something different in his appearance, but it took a moment for me to recognize what it was . A softer quality to his edges that I couldn’t quite understand, his body looking less defined, less bulky than normal. I blinked several times to refocus, and was rewarded with infinitesimally better vision.

“Where’s your armor, shabuir?” I sniped. I may have been more than a little miffed that all of my worldly possessions were now ash and lumps of twisted metal, and biting at a Mandalorian was a temporarily soothing balm to my aching heart.

The hunter reached over me and unhooked the empty bacta IV bag from a rod above my head, replacing it with the one he’d brought. Adjusting the solution valve, he tapped the drip chamber twice before turning his attention back to me. “There’s a spare jumpsuit in the ‘fresher. Keep the bacta wrap on for another hour, at least.” As an afterthought, he added, “We’ll be on Nevarro in a few days.” A frown tainted his voice. “Stay out of my way ‘til then.” Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder and disappeared onto the upper deck.

………

It took about twelve hours for me to feel well enough to rid myself of the IV and bacta wraps and get out of the bunk without having the ship buck underneath me like a wild bluurg. I took that time to cry myself to sleep, wake up and cry some more. The loss of my tools and kit was a huge blow to my self-worth, but the loss of the pendant, well. It was the only piece I had left of a life full of fear and hunger and love; it connected me to home. If I didn’t have that, where did I belong?

It took another three hours for me to get up the nerve to get cleaned and dressed. I prowled around the cargo hold, poking and prodding at the carbonite storage, the control panels and the refresher. There hadn’t been much of a chance on my earlier voyages to explore, so with the Mandalorian occupied guiding the ship through hyperspace, I felt emboldened to figure out more about him. Not that there was much to glean from my investigation; the hold contained only the basics of survival for deep space travel, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

Oh, and several beings in what looked to be forced-stasis, frozen in carbonite.

Shivering in sympathy for my hold companions, I turned and shuffled back to the bunk. What I really had hoped to find was the incinerator - most ships kept them below near the back for easy dispatch of trash - but I hadn’t found hide nor hair of one below deck. It could’ve been located above. Not exactly the safest or most pleasant location, yet with all the fire power and carbonite in the hold, it kinda made sense. No need to put three dangerous elements all in one place, if you had the room.

A little voice at the back of my head reminded me of something else: that fragging Mando had all but ordered me to stay put. If he thought for one second that I was going to listen to him, he had another thing coming. I held no ill-will against Mandalorians in general, but this one was getting on my bad side. First arresting me and then almost getting me killed and then destroying the only thing I had left of home reminded me that I only had myself to rely on, that everyone else was out to either disappoint me or kill me.

I’d be doshed if I was going to let that buckethead dictate what I could and couldn’t do, especially since he was the one who took me off that Maker-forsaken moon in the first place.

Especially since he handed me over to Mihcas without an apology.

And took my pendant and tools to boot.

Ascending the ladder turned out to be a formidable feat in my weakened condition, but I prevailed. It took more effort than it should have, and I collapsed onto the cool steel platform once I made it all the way up.

“What are you doing?” The modulated baritone came from my right. Swiveling my head, I watched as the bounty hunter stomped out of the captain’s quarters, a bundle of clothes clutched to his chest and fingers unsurprisingly reaching for his blaster. Whatever was in the bundle must have been precious, for he shifted it away from me to his injured arm. It obviously still hurt; he held the bundle in the crook of his elbow, awkwardly bent and trembling with effort.

Good.

Rage flared in my chest, licking its way up like flames and leaving a red mask pounding behind my eyes. Pushing the anger away, I clambered up to my feet. I was going to get answers, and I’d be fragged if I was going to show emotion in front of him.

“Where’s the incinerator?” I spat savagely. So much for not showing any emotion.

Obviously taken aback by my vehemence and bluntness, he cocked his helmet and pulled his hand from his blaster, resting it casually on his belt buckle. “Why?”

Simple enough question, simple enough answer. But I didn’t feel like answering him. Opening my mouth to respond, a cooing sound interrupted me. It sounded like it was coming from the bundle still shielded in his injured arm.

Snapping my jaw shut with a painfully audible click, I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. “Trafficking something illegal there, chakaar?” Anxiety clenched my stomach in its viselike grip, and I had to force the bile from rising in my throat. I was still weak from Bosph, but if he was buying and selling living beings to make a living, he was no better than my ex-boss. No better than me. Which meant I was going to have to hurt him or die trying.

A sharp hiss of an inhale through the vocoder told me I’d hit on something. Something he didn’t want me knowing. A whispery stream of very impolite Mando’a floated in the space between us. The air was thick with tension, and both of us were patiently waiting for the other to make the next move.

The coo came again, slightly muffled, followed by a bubbly giggle, startling us out of our stare-down. The bundle wriggled, and the Mandalorian shifted his attention from me to it as the thing became too much to handle with one injured arm. Grunting either out of pain or frustration, the bounty hunter stepped backwards until he was in the doorway of the bunk. Squeaking and chittering indignantly, the lump in the clothes broke free with a victorious huff.

And it was the cutest fragging thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.

_____________________

Notes:

chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal - general term of abuse shabuir - extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger

[sleep-is-for-the-sane]

This Is Home

Summary: Reader is ridiculed by their parents and no one knew about it until a small change turned their day around.

Warnings: Abuse, low self-esteem

Word count: 1401 

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

Today started off like any normal day for you. Wake up, get dressed and cover up with a hoodie, brush your teeth, Get judged by your parents for your appearance, then walk to school while your brother got to drive “Bella” to school. Yes your brother, Reggie Mantel, named his car “Bella”. However, when you got to school today your friends weren’t where they normally waited. Instead of being in the student lounge, they were standing around the front doors of the school. “Dang it, why’d the decide today was the day to change where we hang out before the bell rings?” You thought as you walked up the few stairs leading into the school. “Hey Y/N,” said Roni, “ why didn’t you ride to school with Reggie?” 

You nervously laughed and gave the excuse of, “Oh, I just woke up late and he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to talk to the football coach.” They never knew that your parents made you walk to school because they thought that it would make you lose weight. They all thought that you rode to school with your brother every day because they were always in the student lounge before school and never saw you walk up to the building. 

They all seemed to buy the lie but Jughead seemed a little skeptical. “Alright, but if that happens again you can ask me for a ride.” Roni stated with jughead agreeing. And with that, the bell rang and everyone went to their classes.

You had gotten through half of the day and now it was lunch. You met up with Betty, Jug, Veronica, Archie, and Kevin outside where you always had lunch as long as the weather permitted. You were normally sitting next to Betty or Kevin with Jug on the other side of the table but today he decided to sit next to you. “Hey Y/N, wanna share my fries?” He asks as you scoot over to make room for him. You shook your head and looked away from him. Now you were stuck in between Kevin and Jug, who definitely know somethings up. Lunch went by with no one paying much attention to you because they were busy with gossip from the homecoming dance.

The day went on with you zoning out in your classes and having to ask your friends to copy their notes until the final bell rang. Everyone was waiting to gather in the student lounge to discuss what we wanted to do over the weekend. “Well, we could go to Pop’s tonight and have a movie marathon tomorrow?” Suggested Betty. And that’s exactly what we decided on. 

Everyone disbanded to go home and get homework done before they went to Pop’s but as you were about to start walking back to your house Jughead stopped you. “Drive you home?” He had his hand stuck out to give you his helmet.

You wished you could go with him and not kill your legs by walking uphill a mile to your house but your parents wouldn’t allow it. “No thanks, Jughead. I’ve gotta stop by the pharmacy to pick up some medicine for my mom on the way.” Jug shook his head and walked the four steps to where you stood.

He grabbed your hand and led you to his bike (Motorcycle) and sat you in front of him on the seat. “Then I’ll drive you there too. Unless you want to let me in on why you are too afraid to tell me why your parents are forcing you to walk to school?” He mumbled into your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your neck. You felt heat rise to your face as he sat up. 

You sighed and whispered, “Can we just go?” Jug revved the engine and you were off but not in the right direction. You watched as the scenery of Riverdale became a blur as the moody writer behind you drove you to a destination unknown to you. Once the bike slowed down you realized that you were at Sunny Side trailer park. You stopped in front of what you were guessing to be Jughead’s trailer. He led you inside and sat you on the couch. You busied yourself with the hem of your hoodie until you felt the cushion dip next to you. “How’d you know?”

“Well, there was a week that I got to school and noticed that you were never in the car with Reggie and you showed up just moments later than him. It happened every day and when I  asked him about it he said that you always walked to school,” Jug took your hand in his trying to get you to look at him, “He said that your parents forced you to because they wanted your figure to be their ideal one.”

You felt tears run down your cheeks as he spoke. You wiped at your face before looking up at him. “They hate me, Jughead. They say that they feel embarrassed when I’m out in public with them. They only let me eat small salads and I can only drink water or green tea because they think that it will help me look perfect. They make me feel like I’m unlovable. My home is a personal hell for me and I don’t know how much longer I can take it.” You cried. Jug pulled you into a tight hug and just held you for what felt like hours but was only a minute.

You sniffled and laughed a little as you pulled away. “Sorry about that. You shouldn’t have to deal with my home life.”

“No, don’t do that. I will always be here for you to talk to. Hell, from now on I’m your home. Your parents can get lost because they are wrong about everything. You are perfectly imperfect and I will always love you!” Jughead proclaimed before cupping your cheek switch his hands and pulling you into a kiss that you would never forget. The only thing that forced it to stop was a silly little thing called Oxygen that everyone needs to live. 

You parted and started hugging again. “Alright, we should get you to your house before your parents freak out even more than they already are.” Jug sighed. Sadly you had to agree so both of you were now on the road once more to go to your house before heading to Pop’s to meet with the rest of the gang. You walked into your house with Jug following close behind. You had almost made it to your room unnoticed by anyone but you can only get so lucky.

Your mother was waiting for you in your room as you walked into it. “Where were you and why is the Jones boy with you?” Your mother ranted. 

“We were working on homework at his house then he gave me a ride back here. Is there a problem with that, Mom?” 

“You should have walked. Maybe you would have lost some weight!” 

That statement made you angry no doubt, but it made Jughead even angrier. He got between you and your mother and with all the strength he had in his body he spouted, “You know what, Ma’am? Your child is one of the best people I know and it surprises me that she came from a vindictive, selfish person such as yourself. They are a true gem and for you to make them feel as though they are a common pebble is a true crime! So I will be here every morning and every afternoon to pick Y/N up and drop them off, no matter what your opinion is.”

By now your mother was already fuming but she just decided to leave the room. You stared in disbelief as Jughead had wrapped his arms around you protectively. He then told you to change into clothes you felt confident in and then you left for Pop’s. Everyone was already sitting in the usual booth with milkshakes when you both got there. The night was long and filled with laughter and shared stories from the past. Jughead wrapped his arm around your shoulders at one point which didn’t go unnoticed by Betty. “Oh, what’s this? Jughead and Y/N are a thing?” She teased.

Jughead and you looked into each other’s eyes and you laughed, “This is home.”

[masterheartsxiii]

Notes from mass 10/25/20

30th Sunday of ordinary time

Saint Teresa of Avila (the church I attended in college when I would try catholicism) remotely

Counting down to advent (a light at the end of this dark year) :)

Discussing the greatest commandments it seems.

The familiar lord have mercy Christ have mercy (when did st. T’s mass, and father chris become “familiar“ to me? It felt like a homecoming listening)

Speaking of familiar. The prayer at the beginning in song makes it much easier for laymen (there’s a catholic word for that right?) to remember it.

Reading 1: exodus

You wrong other people, I’ll do it to you whether they’re widows, orphans, poor, or aliens (cough cough border children. How people can say they are Christian and support that is beyond me, speaking as someone who regrettably did)

This is what they mean by god going Old Testament on people. Bring the sword and cut people down? Dang!

Gloria:

Seems like an odd choice for following that verse but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh! From the perspective of the widows, orphans, etc.

Reading 2: 1 Thessalonians

Calling the Thessalonians good models when they first started the church and how they led by example.

(Not sure the connection to the exodus passage, but it is always nice to see leaders being actual leaders)

(The hallelujahs bring back so many positive memories. I will have to schedule a visit with father Chris. Perhaps he can answer questions about catholicism since we already had at least some rappor with him when I was there. Emotional guidance as well.)

Gospel: Matthew

This is one of many times the Pharisees try to trap Jesus and he lays the verbal smack down on them. Sassy Jesus is my favorite.(“going New Testament on people” as way to say beating them not with strength but with wits?)

What is the greatest commandment? Love the lord your god and love your neighbor as yourself. (So basically... all of them summed up to their core.)

Homily: (The deacon (right?) did the homily)

Actually talking about the gospel (thank you)

Talking about how it’s more than just a command. It’s about a relationship. (But how can one have a relationship with a divine being. One who deigns when you answer and when to not. Who would be friends, with someone who only does what they want.

Answered my own question . He’s not our friend. He’s our parent. When we are kids we trust our parents to know what’s right. As we grow we lose that faith and assume we know better. But I think we all come to realize that just because our parents aren’t on the same page as us, doesn’t mean they’re always wrong. Sometimes they definitely are. They are fallible as are we. But our Heavenly Father is infallible. So there’s never a time he’s wrong, no matter how much of a different page we’re on. This was a long tangent)

600 commandments!? We struggle with 10!

Baseball analogy. We accept the rules. We don’t questions those even as we question the game.

Bab noises! My heart. 😍 and the deacons chuckle at it warmed my heart

We can’t accept moral failings just cause they “don’t matter”. We have to hold ourselves to the rules.

After notes:

Didn’t stick around for communion. It’s virtual anyways and I’m not there yet. My dear friend’s brother just took first communion. It was a massive celebration. I regret having partaken before. I did not understand the import and still don’t. I just wanted to be included. It was sacrilege to do so though and for that I apologize my lord.

I feel there is something to this small church. It’s more than mere comfort. I don’t long for the rest of college back. But that church has a way of feeling so welcoming. It’s the genuineness I think. It’s not some great cathedral. It used to be a pharmacy. So it has the power of Catholicism without the pomp that makes it seem distant. I think I’ll keep watching virtually and get in touch with them. The flowers also did a good job of not making it seem so empty.

Lord please help me to understand your mysteries.

[magpiemorality]

On the eighth day of Christmas

Fem!Virgil, Fem!Hispanic!Roman, Fem!Patton & Fem!Logan, 1950s Fem!Sides Highschool AU. Warnings for mentions of racist bullying (against a hispanic character) and vaguely alluded to abusive relationship.

Eight Maids A’Milking

Poodle skirts and patent shoes filled the school gym, all decked out in the finest cheesy Christmas decor imaginable. The school Christmas dance, rather a tradition by now despite it's unpopularity sitting only a few weeks after homecoming; was in full swing. Over the sounds of the band and the emcee calling the dances, there was giggling and chatter from every corner, generated by just over a hundred teenage voices all overexcited by the prospect of romance and potentially spiked punch.

Some were more excited than others, and Virginia Sanders was on the lower end of the spectrum. Her mouth was set firmly in a distasteful pout, chin in her hand as she slouched on the bleachers with her elbow digging a dull ache in her knee and her second-hand skirt rumpling underneath her. It wasn't exactly her idea of good festive fun. Too many hormones and loud noises and people. Worse- teenagers, and yeah so what she thought it with such disgust when she was one herself? It wasn't like she was happy about it.

If only the kids at her new school weren't like the kids at every other dang high school she'd been to in the last two years (a total of five, but one of them hardly counted as it had technically been summer break all but one week they'd been in town). Then at least she might not be sitting there alone, as usual, wishing she was at home or sneaking out to play baseball with her recently inaugurated best (only) friend Patty. Patty had a wicked arm- Virginia was sure she could beat anyone on the team with her fastball, not that anyone would care to discover it.

But Patty was, much to Virginia's dismay, one of the more enthusiastic in their year about things like Christmas dances and new outfits. She was even on the planning committees and a cheerleader to boot. But she did look cute as a button, done up in her powder blue skirt with the little white flowers, a matching ornament in her perfectly pinned up silky blonde curls. Oh how they gently caressed her face when she twisted side to side to the music and how her smile lit up the room when she grinned and waved over at Virginia...

Virginia sat up sharply with a faint blush, lifting her hand in brief reply and looking away quickly, smoothing down her skirts. She missed the slight fall of Patty's expression, but the other girl stayed on the dance floor when the rest of her group squealed at the start of a new song and dragged her back into the fray.

On the opposite side of the room a different girl was stood watching the mass of bodies out in the centre of the room with considerably less disgust and considerably more longing. She tossed her dark head, rubbing the corsage on her wrist that had no partner, and sighed deeply as she resisted the urge to sway to the music. Rosanna Castillo did not have friends like Patty did, to dance and gasp and laugh with. Rosanna Castillo had classmates, who would mock her accent when it came out and make snide and unsubtle remarks about how good she must be at laundry, and whether she was available to cook dinner, for a small fee of course...

Rosanna Castillo wished she could go out there and dance and show them all what she was really good at, but she knew she would never dare. There was only half a year left before she would be out of town and off to make her name in show business, after all. And she was a good enough actor to last that long at least.

She cast her eyes down, catching sight of a young couple hurrying away from the dance floor; the boyfriend chasing after his clearly distressed girlfriend. She tried not to eavesdrop as they came to a stop near the wall she was hovering by, the boy grabbing his girlfriend's arm and yanking her around to face him as he hissed at her from up close. Her glasses slipped down her nose and she flinched when he pushed them back up her nose. Rosanna's hackles raised instinctively and she focused harder on what was going on.

"Sweetie, you know you have to stay out and dance with me or it'll look awful for both of us! You can't just leave."

"I won't stand there and smile while your stupid friends say those horrible things it's just not fair, Dee!" Dee's smile was pained in the coloured lights, pasted on for show, and his grip didn't shift as the girl pushed at his hand, trying to free herself. "I'm going home, let go of me! You know I didn't want to come anyway-"

"Don't be ridiculous honey you're embarrassing yourself. Lori stop it I'm not gonna let go. Lori! Loren-Ann stop making a fuss!" He tugged her a little closer but she'd apparently reached her limit, and before Rosanna could move to intervene Loren-Ann had stomped hard on her boyfriend's foot and followed up with a knee to his stomach as he doubled over, leaving him gasping and clutching at the wall to stay upright as she stormed off.

Rosanna was impressed beyond belief. She darted after her new heroine as the girl in question shoved through the doors and out into the night, intending to make sure she was okay.

Back on the other side of the gym Virginia was trying not to watch as the music slowed down and Patty moved smoothly into the arms of a boy, it looked like the large Tight End on the football team, Norm or Nick or something equally generic. Virginia spitefully thought to herself that his end probably wasn't even that tight, and immediately felt bad about the nastiness. It was unbecoming of a lady, her mother would have said, and despite herself Virginia couldn't quite shake the drilled-in response of nauseous guilt at even the imagined sound of her mother's shrill voice, always picking picking picking at Virginia no matter what she did-

She stopped her line of thinking to take a few deep breaths, standing up and descending the bleachers carefully, unaccustomed to the kitten heels she was wearing. Unaccustomed to all the frippery and finery and the hot sting of something she wasn't sure about in her chest (it ached like jealousy, but she had to deny that or else she'd have to start thinking about why and jealous of what or worse- who) and gosh dang it she needed to not be here anymore.

The door beckoned and the cool air was delightful on Virginia's skin as she burst out of the gym and made for the parking lot, unaware that she was about to stumble over two other early escapees, sharing the tentative beginning of a conversation that was destined to lead to a surprising new friendship. Unaware that Patty would clock her absence once the dance was over and Nate had let her slip away from his sweaty hands and overwhelming cologne to go 'to the bathroom', whereupon she would actually have to go to the bathroom to take a few moments to herself as she let the disappointment pass. And unaware that- contrary to expectation- her future held a whole lot of new and exciting things to come before the year was out...

For now she was just thinking about how much better life would be when she finally got into bed.

12 Days of Sides-mas Masterpost

[agentbarton12]

Sticky Business

AN: and here we have it folks! ive been putting off posting this cause im lAzY but i finally did. most of the chapters are already done so updates will vary. this is a post homecoming fic btw

masterlist | series masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

Ah, New York. A beautiful place, truly it is. Amidst all the commotion and flying aliens and mutants, I always manage to find some sense of calm. Be it the rhythm of the car horns beeping, or the occasional yelling of an angry passer-by, there was always something to be seen, to be captured, which is why I found myself situated on the roof of our apartment building, against my mother’s wishes.

I am not a rebellious child, truly I’m not. But when I believe strongly in my opinion and a figure of authority happens to contradict said opinion, you best be sure that I am going to stand for my beliefs. If it means a few days of detention, I couldn’t care less. I actually don’t care. I have never been to detention — well I have never been sent to detention, but I make my occasional visits to the hollowed out and depressing classroom — and I know that it is because my teachers are afraid that I will say something about the social injustice of how I am not allowed express my opinions without getting reprimanded because it does not conform to the way they want me to think. Or something like that.

So, there I was, sitting on the roof of our janky old apartment building, sketching the dumb corner that blocked me from seeing anything. Even at this height, I was never able to see around or over that dumb corner. It’s not like I was expecting something to pop and surprise me, I lived in a pretty boring part of Queens, so I wasn’t looking for anything.

But then a man swinging through the alley caught my attention. Sounds went through my ears and a yelp of confusion caused me to lean forward a bit. Just slightly.

That’s when a flash of blue and red swung by me but came to a halt mid-swing and let of his webbing. Spider-Man. Queens very own vigilante.

He stopped short and stared at me on the roof. So, I guess I must’ve looked suspicious sitting on the railing of a roof with nothing but a notebook and pencil. I understand why anyone would be worried that I might do something irrational while I was up there. It made sense. But he just stood there on the ground without saying anything. I pretended to ignore him, and I continued sketching.

“You okay up there, Miss?” he asked tilting his head up to me.

I wasn’t expecting him to say anything. I thought he was just going to stand there until he made sure I was okay and then move on. No such luck.

“Yep. Just sketching,” I said back to him. I kind of shouted, but not really because I did not want to attract the attention of my mother.

He looked confused and glanced around him, looking for something. “What exactly has caught your attention?’

I snorted. He wasn’t wrong. There was absolutely nothing interesting to capture here. Where I was, it was just garbage can after garbage can. But there was something there. I just seemed to be the only one who could see it. “This is New York, Spidey! There’s inspiration everywhere.” And that was true.

I think he chuckled, I was too high up to really hear. “And what inspires — ”

“My purse!” a voice shrieked from somewhere nearby. Spider-Man held up a finger to indicate that he’ll be back and swung into action.

I craned my neck and watched as he disappeared around the corner. Once he was out of my sight, I went back to my sketch. My legs were dangling aimlessly over the railing and the sense of fear wasn’t kicking in. I guess it was because I wasn’t worried about falling because I’ve done this before.

Spider-Man came swinging back a few moments later. He stopped in the same place as before and gave me what I assumed was an apologetic look. I couldn’t tell with the mask and everything.

“I’m back.”

“So, you are.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, and I shrugged nonchalantly in response. He looked up for a moment, not at me, but he seemed to be thought. He snapped his finger like he got the answer to a question he had been stuck on. “I just remembered what we were talking about.”

I looked at him blankly. I was not looking to continue the conversation. I just wanted to sketch my corner in peace.

When I didn’t respond, he spoke again, “I believe I was asking what inspired you about an — ”

“ — MICHELLE!” Dang it. I visibly tensed up as my name sounded throughout the apartment.

My mother’s angry voice scared me enough to send me toppling over the railing and landing on the floor of the roof. No sound escaped my lips, I made sure of it. I silently cursed and got up. I quickly grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

“MICHELLE! I swear if you are on that roof again!” My mother yelled from the terrace of our apartment. I knew she couldn’t see me, but it felt like she could, so I quickly and quietly slipped through the door and started heading down the stairs. I stopped for a moment when I heard my mother yelp.

“Spider-Man? What are you doing here?” she asked. Good question. Why was he still there?

My mother never gave him time to answer though, she just ploughed on with the questions. “Are you here to help Miss Crux? Did she misplace her keys again? Poor soul, she loses them almost every day.”

“Oh no. I was just passing through. But if you could be so kind and check on her for me, that would be great.”

“Sure...um, okay.”

I thought the conversation was over, so I continued down the stairs.

“Uh, Spider-Man, you wouldn’t have happened to see my daughter up on the roof? Dark, curly hair, brown skin? Nose in a book?”

I froze in my step. If Spider-Man rats me out, I’ll be grounded for a week. (Not like I have anywhere to go, it’s just the thought that is chilling.)

I waited for the blow to come, but it never did. Instead I heard him say, “Oh no, I haven’t. Sorry.”

I let out a sigh of relief and ran down the stairs quickly. I jumped the last few and ran to our apartment.

“Michelle!” my mom screamed. “I want you here right now. Miche — ”

I opened the door and was in the kitchen before my mother got back from the terrace. “I’m here. Relax.”

She gave me her don’t mess with me look. “Where were you?”

I shrugged. “I was visiting Mr Torres downstairs because I know how lonely he gets during the afternoons and I thought he could use some help. It has been a while since we visited him, y’know,” I lied partly. We really hadn’t seen him in a couple of months.

My mother thought for a while then let out a sigh. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought you were on the roof.”

“When I know you don’t want me there? I would never.” I said with mock shock.

She rolled her eyes at me. I could tell she believed me. She wouldn’t have apologised otherwise.

“You need to tell me when you leave, Michelle. Tehy could be watching and they might see you and—”

“—I know, Mom. I know. Stop worrying, no one saw me.” Except Spider-Man, I thought to myself. Speaking of which…

I leaned over the kitchen counter and put my bag on the table. “Who were you talking to?” I asked, acting oblivious.

She looked hummed in confusion. “What?”

“On my way up, I thought I heard you talking to someone. Who was it?”

“Oh, no one.” She tried to brush it off, but I’m better at that than she is. I gave her a look that showed I was not buying any of it. She sighed in defeat. “I was just talking to Spider-Man.”

I snorted. Staying in character. “Eww. You were flirting with Spider-Man? You do realise that he could be a seventy-year-old under there, right?”

She rolled her eyes at me again. “It wasn’t flirting, it was just friendly conversation.”

I scrunched my nose in distaste and rolled my eyes, moving into an upright position. “Still gross.”

As if something occurred to her, she moved to her room and came back with her bag. “You reminded me. I need to check on someone.”

She gave me a kiss before leaving the apartment. I had a feeling she was going to see Miss Crux. Look at her, being a good citizen, listening to Spider-Man. Good for her. (That was sarcasm, in case you didn’t notice.)

I grabbed myself a slice of bread and buttered it. I poured some juice and grabbed the jam from the fridge. I ate in silence.

I was surprised when my mother agreed to check on Miss Crux. She’s never been one to…follow authority. I had assumed she was just saying she would do it but was actually going to lounge on the sofa with a cup of coffee. But when she actually walked out of the apartment and sounds of high-pitched laughter came from Miss Crux’s apartment next door, I was completely baffled as to why my mom did it.

I’m not saying she’s a bad person, she’s not, but she’s not the best in the world. She’s done some things and I think she feels bad about them, I don’t know seeing as she never talks about them. She’s moved on, I guess, from that life. I wouldn’t know. I can only hope that she has.

I cleared away everything I had used and washed my dishes. Even though my mom was feeling like the Good Samaritan today, didn’t mean that she won’t lash out on me as soon as she finds dirty dishes in the sink.

Once all that was done, I decided that I was going to visit Mr Torres — for real this time.

I stepped out and locked the door, slipping the key in my back pocket. I knew my mom had a spare and I just hoped that she hadn’t left it in the apartment. I shrugged the thought off and continued down the stairs.

Mr Torres lives in the apartment below ours and there was a time when my mom and I would constantly visit him, but when time and reality kicked us both in the butt, majority of the things we did together came to a halt.

Was this halt sudden? No, it wasn’t. Was it expected? After a while, yes. There was a time when I stopped inviting my mom to school stuff because I knew she wouldn’t be able to make it. She stopped inviting me to Take Your Kid to Work Day, because I always had homework to do or a book to read or something else. It never occurred to me that maybe we were just avoiding each other. Avoiding the awkward and emotional conversation that would leave us both bawling our eyes out.

We’ve never been those to wear our emotions proud for everyone to see — it’s one of the things we have in common — which is why I think we’ve been avoiding the conversation. It would lead to us openly discussing our feelings. Eww.

I didn’t realise that I had reached Mr Torres’ door. I shook myself off. I raised my hand to knocked on the door but stopped midway. I wasn’t afraid of him. I just didn’t know how he would act, you know having someone be there then disappear without so much as a warning and then poof! magically reappear. It made me feel like dirt.

When I finally knocked on the door, and heard a faint, “Who is it?” I took a deep breath in.

“It’s Michelle. Michelle Jones? Jo’s daughter. I stay upstairs and — ”

The door opened. In all my rambling, I didn’t notice the shuffling going on, on the other side of the door. Mr Torres greeted me with a smile and I gave him a lame one in return — tight-lipped, slightly forced and lopsided — noting that he probably didn’t notice it.

His smile never faltered, even as he ushered me in, even though I knew my way around, I allowed him to lead me. He gestured for me to sit down in the general direction of the chairs. I didn’t sit. I watched as he felt his way around looking for his arm chair, and only sat myself when I knew he was seated. I sat down.

He looked over to where he thought I was, and I shifted in my seat a little just to be in his line of vision. “It’s so good to see you again.”

That stung. I’m not sure if he was saying it out of habit or if he was making a joke or if he thought I forgot about his condition, that made me stiffen and suck in a breath. He must’ve noticed, because he let out a hearty chuckle and tapped his belly. “Only playing, Michelle.”

I nodded knowing full well he couldn’t see me.

Mr Torres was blind. Or visually impaired if you want to beat around the bush. I don’t know for how long, I never asked him. Thought that would be personal and emotional and…feelings. I assume he wasn’t born blind, because he seems to have memorized the layout of his apartment pretty well, seeing as he can get around without a cane.

“Can I help you with something, Michelle?”

It just then dawned on me how quiet I was being. Usually when I initiate a conversation, I know exactly what I want to talk about and I steer the conversation in that direction. But coming down here had been a spur of the moment decision. I had no time to think of what I would say, or do once I got here, and Mr Torres’ unintentional guilt tripping wasn’t making it any easier for me.

I took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “I-uh…I just wanted to talk. It’s been a while and I thought we could catch up.”

His eyes lit up (if that’s even possible) and he gave me an infectious smile. I smiled back even though he couldn’t see it. “I’d like that.”

And so, we talked. He told me about his nieces and nephews, about this lady who visits almost every week to check up on him. About everything I missed out on. And I told him about AcaDec, about how I was named captain and how I might have friends.

He never once asks about why my mom and I stopped visiting and I’m very glad for it because I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it. He seemed to understand because anytime the conversation was headed in that direction, he subtly steered it away. I guess he knew that I’d talk to him about it when I was ready to.

| next |

[fernandidilly-yo]

Thoughts on FFH?

(no spoilers) 

I think it was pretty good! I’ll be honest and say I thought the first 20 or so minutes were a bit drawn out and some things could have been cut for a better flow, but once it picked up I liked it a lot. 

Some of those fight scenes were amazing, and I love that they included Peter’s spider-sense so much. MJ’s part was also real nice, and I loved the awkward romance between them. 

I loved how much they included Peter’s grief for Tony. Because we’re all still grieving Tony too, so that put us in the same shoes as Peter and allowed us to know how lost he felt in a world without Iron Man. Kudos on that. 

The twists they showed us in the end credits had me gawking, didn’t see that coming. Also, that cliffhanger. Dang. 

Overall I think I probably still like Homecoming better, but Far From Home was still really fun. 

[closetofanxiety]

Impact Homecoming thoughts

Hey, I ordered this on the Fite TV app! Where the hell is my calendar??

Anyway, here we go:

I enjoyed this show! I watched it along with @ioplokon via the magic of the Internet, and it was a lot of fun. I see the usual Impact naysayers online are saying the relative lack of Twitter chatter about this show indicates the Company That Wouldn’t Die is in great peril, but I spent years predicting the demise of TNA only to be proven wrong every single time. I will say that the timing of this PPV was not spectacular: mere days after Wrestle Kingdom, and following two weeks of clip shows on TV. Oh, and it cost $40. The old PPV model is dead dead dead, and even ROH has adjusted its plans accordingly. I am a lunatic with a reasonably generous disposable income, so I bought it, but how many people like me are there?

I am glad that they announced their weekly show, which is moving to the TV wilderness (literally, it’s a wilderness channel) of Pursuit, will also be simulcast for free on Twitch. I don’t know what that means about the current financial viability of the company, but it does mean, in the short term, I can actually watch Impact in real time. And Impact’s been really good for a solid year! 

Thoughts on the show:

* Fun opener! Putting Ethan Page in the X Division championship scramble thing was a great idea, because he brings a different feel to a match that otherwise would likely feel like a cruiserweight showdown. Page probably should have won, honestly. Having Swann win is ... uh, whatever. Swann’s a good wrestler, but even without the Baggage, he’s never really been the guy to be the face of a division. He was a solid midcard dude in PWG, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I think that’s probably his top dollar best.

* What a trip it is seeing Jordynne Grace on a pay-per-view, even in an era when that model is pretty much dead! Ironically, I think this is the most money I’ve ever paid to see Jordynne Grace wrestle, and I’ve seen her in person like a billion times. She’s terrific. She’s a star in the making. This match also featured Su Yung, who I obviously adore. Her work doesn’t always translate in a TV match - she’s best as a brawler, and her greatest skill is absorbing inhuman amounts of punishment - and it was a little shaky here, but in general this was a fun match. I don’t 100 percent buy Allie as an Evil Creature of the Night, but she’s definitely thrown herself into the role. Rosemary returned at the end, kind of predictably, but it was still welcome.

* Willie Mack is great. Just so agile and nimble for a big man, and with gallons of natural charisma. I love watching him wrestle. I have never seen a Willie Mack match that is not, at least, a hoot. Sami Callihan is ... I don’t know. It feels like he’s kind of spinning his wheels. When he left NXT, there was a period like a year when he was on an absolutely ferocious tear, and that momentum has really just translated into a midcard villain job and a kevlar vest. Maybe he’s distracted by doing a million different things in wrestling, but it feels like a long time since he’s been a realistic choice as The Dude. On commentary, Josh Matthews says “Sami Callihan is treated like a god in Dayton, Ohio,” which, even if it is untrue (it is), tells us everything we need to know about Dayton.

* Eddie Edwards vs. Moose was a blast! So fun. Just a crazy, all-out war. Ioplokon aptly said it was like watching ROH in 2010. There were some genuinely bonkers spots in this match, moments where I thought, Gentlemen, ease up. I think Eddie’s never really gotten his due, but matches like this show he totally deserves to be considered part of the top rank of non-WWE wrestlers. Did it have kind of a goofy setup? Sure, it involved Raven in a mental institution. But I *like* goofiness. I watch professional wrestling. The name of this blog is taken from a thing Kevin Sullivan used to say while pretending to be a devil worshiper who conjured Mark Lewin out of the Atlantic Ocean. There should be more goofiness in wrestling. Also, Alisha Edwards showed up at the end of this match and nearly broke a dang kendo stick over Moose’s head.

* I just can’t get into Eli Drake. He seems like a character you have to face in a preliminary match on a wrestling video game. Just not my kind of wrestler. He beat Abyss in a Monster’s Ball match which was certainly a match that happened.

* The tag match between LAX and the Lucha Bros lived up to expectations as a completely crazy spot-filled sprint of total mayhem. I saw this matchup at Americanrana ‘17, and it was the only time I’ve seen people throw money into the ring. These guys are so well suited as opponents, and the crowd was absolutely cooking throughout the whole thing. A lot of fun. Watch it if you get the chance. LAX deserve to be huge stars. 

* The women’s title match between Tessa Blanchard and Taya, with Gail Kim as referee, should have been the main event. There was a good story here, with the expected tension between Kim and Blanchard, and overall it just felt like more was at stake. I did NAWT agree with the finish, because Tessa should have lost clean, but it at least raises the tantalizing prospect of a Gail Kim feud with Tessa. I know Gail is “retired,” but wrestlers never retire.

* The main event happened! Tape Machines said on Twitter it looked like the kind of match where one wrestler is working through a case of the flu, and that’s about right. Everything felt weirdly disjointed and disconnected, not even a spotfest so much as a hastily assembled spot collection. They should have put the belt on Brian Cage, but for some reason they didn’t. Killer Kross came out after and beat up Johnny and Taya. I guess we’re getting a Killer Kross feud with Johnny Impact, which, uh ... listen, Impact is better than it’s been in a long time but it’s still a work in progress, OK?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Whatever It Takes: Part 4

Fandom: Star Wars (High School AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: You and Poe are best friends and spend every minute together. Just as you were ready to confess your feelings for him, Miss Popularity, comes in and ruins everything.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Throughout the school day, Rey and Finn had made their best efforts to distract you from Poe and Cheryl. However, it didn’t really help that Cheryl was parading Poe around. It didn’t even look like he was enjoying her company. He looked miserable. 

When lunch time came around, you didn’t have the appetite to eat anything. You pushed your food around just listening to Rey and Finn discuss their plans for homecoming.

“Y/N!” 

Your head shot up, “Huh?”

“I asked if you were going to homecoming.” Finn said.

You frowned, “Oh. Uh, well, Poe and I were gonna go, but...yeah. So I don’t think I’m going anymore.” You mumbled.

Rey shook her head, “Oh no. That won’t do. You’re going! In fact, we’ll all go as a group! Rose, Kaydel, Snap, Jess, and Ben can join us.”

You were hesitant, “I don’t know guys.”

Finn reached over the table and grabbed your hand, “Y/N, come on! It’s our senior year! You have to go! We’ll make you forget all about You-Know-Who!”

“I don’t have a dress.”

“We can go shopping after school! You, me, and Finn!”

Finn grimaced, “Heck no. You’re gonna take longer than usual when we go shopping.”

Rey rolled her eyes, “Fine. Whatever. Just you and me. That sound good, Y/N?”

You shrugged, “I guess.” the bell rang signalling the end of lunch which meant that you had five minutes to get to your fifth period. It was psychology, a class that you and Poe shared and, thankfully, Cheryl wasn’t in that class. But still. He probably wouldn’t even give you a glance.

You dragged yourself to class, keeping your head down, avoiding any stares. When you entered the room, you saw a rose and a folded note on your desk. 

You set your things down and picked up the flower. It looked fresh. You then sat down and unfolded the note. It was a screenshot of a online receipt for a homecoming dress that was exactly your size. The order was a long burgundy see-through dress with a mini dress underneath. Underneath the screenshot it read:

Y/N,

Don’t bother going dress shopping. Already got it covered. All you have to do is pick up. You’ll look beautiful. I just know it.

xoxox

You looked around the room to see if anyone was giving an inkling if they were the ones who did this. But you got nothing. You smiled to yourself, thankful you no longer had to go dress shopping anymore. 

Poe watched from the doorway as you sat at your desk smiling at the note and smelling the rose. He mentally high-fived himself as he snuck into class and sat in the back. He felt accomplished. 

“Alright, class! For today’s lesson...”

Once class ended, you hurriedly packed your things and rushed out of class. Luckily, you ran into Rey, “Rey!” with a big smile on your face.

She looked at you with surprise, “Why so happy?” You showed her the rose and the note you received. She frowned, “Well dang! I wish someone bought me my homecoming dress! You got a clue who it could be?”

You shook your head, “I’d say Poe, but we both know I’m not a priority for him anymore. So not sure.”

Rey nudged you, “Ooouuuu! You got a secret admirer!”

You scoffed, “Yeah, right. Like someone would be interested in me.”

“Uh, ‘scuse me! You’re a real catch! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

“Yeah, but the guy that I want isn’t even talking to me anymore.” you mumbled sadly. 

Rey threw her arm over your shoulders, “Hey! No frowny face! You were happy just a second ago! Anyway, we’re still going shopping after school though.”

“Why?”

“You need shoes and accessories, of course!”

“But do I really though?”

“Yes. Yes, you do.” you giggled at Rey’s fake seriousness and you both walked to your next class together. 

Unknown to you, Poe was walking behind you the entire time listening to your conversation. It was really killing him that he couldn’t talk to you, but dammit, you were still his best friend. He still cared for you and he wanted you to have an amazing time at homecoming!

“Poe! Pooooeee!” he stopped when he heard Cheryl’s shrill voice echo through the busy halls. He turned and frowned to see he “girlfriend” approach him. She pouted, “You weren’t waiting for me after class!”

Poe rolled his eyes, “I wanted to get to my next class early so I could talk to Solo about my history paper.”

“Well, you could’ve texted me that! I looked stupid waiting for you. I’m gonna be late ‘cause of you!”

Poe sighed, “Sorry. I’ll let you know next time.”

As soon as the end of school bell rang, Poe, begrudgingly, got a ride from Cheryl to her place for his suit fitting. He was escorted to a fancy fitting room with a three-paneled mirror and a pedestal. Poe’s suit was set on a mannequin next to Cheryl’s dress: a bright red off the shoulder dress with a slit going down the side. 

The Cooper’s tailor made Poe put on the suit and stand on the pedestal making adjustments to the suit. Cheryl sat in a chair scrolling through her phone, “So, Poe. Homecoming is a month and a half away. My resources tell me that we are already ahead of the other nominees for homecoming queen and king!”

“That’s cool.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes, “You know, maybe I’ll just extend this deal until prom. That’s bigger than homecoming anyways.”

Poe whipped his head towards the red-head, “You wouldn’t dare!”

She shrugged, “If you keep up the attitude, maybe. Not only do we have to look good, we have to act good. It seems I’m the only one making an effort here, Dameron. I want to make sure that I absolutely win Homecoming queen. I don’t want any close calls. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I’ll try better.”

“No, you will do better. No half-assed jobs. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” God, did he wish this nightmare was over.

God, did you wish this nightmare was over. There were so many accessories to choose from! Big statement earrings or studs? Glitter heels or matte? Why are there so many options?!

“What about these?” Rey asked holding up nude heels.

You shrugged, “Those are fine.”

Rey frowned, “You’ve said that about the last five pairs! Ugh, forget it. You’re getting these. Okay! So we have your clutch, your heels, and now jewelry!”

“Reeey! I’m tired! Can we do this another time? I still have homework!”

“Fine, fine!” She handed you the heels and clutch and pushed you towards the cashier.

Afterwards, she drove you straight home. As you approached your door, you spotted a wrapped package hidden behind your dying cactus. You picked it up and looked at it. It was addressed to you. 

You unlocked the door and walked in, tossing your things onto the floor. You toed off your shoes and headed towards the couch, flopping onto it. You carefully unwrapped the package just in case it was something dangerous. Underneath the wrapping was a mini white box. When you lifted the top, you gasped. 

Inside sat a pair of large gold studded earrings and your name spelled out in cursive into a gold necklace. You lifted the box hoping to find a note and you did. It read:

These would look beautiful with your dress. 

xoxoxo

[benthekarateboy-blog]

*SPOILERS* Marvel Movies! Avengers!

Iron Man (2008) - It was AWESOME! The fight at the end was really cool. Including when he built his Iron Man suit.

The Incredible Hulk (2008) - My favorite Avenger. It was cool seeing the fight scenes. The first one being Hulk vs the soldiers, and the second one where Hulk fights Abomination.

Iron Man 2 (2010) - Finally saw Rhodes in a suit “War Machine” I always like seeing the fight scene. For this, I would say War Machine and Iron Man fighting with Whiplash and the drones was my favorite. Second would be when War Machine was fighting with Iron Man during the party.

Thor (2011) - The last scene was pretty cool since Thor, without powers, got his powers back and defeated The Destroyer. Actually, the first scene of the fight was cool too. Thor and his friends along with Loki fighting with the Frost Giants.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - The fight was cool. When I first watched it, I forgot how the ending went. Then I realize the ending was where he was frozen for 70 years. I guess he was like Aang from the Last Airbender.

The Avengers (2012) - Finally saw this movie! This one I like the fighting scenes. First one, Captain America and Iron Man fighting with Loki. Second, Thor fighting with Iron Man and then Captain America. Third, Hulk fighting with Thor since Bruce couldn’t control it. And lastly, my favorite scene of all, Avengers fighting with the Chitauris. Not sure if they were called that. My favorite scene that made me laugh was when Hulk grabbed Loki and smashed him and called him “puny god”.

Iron Man 3 (2013) - When I first saw this, I was like, “Dang, they destroyed his house. Where he had all his gadgets and technologies in there!” The end was really good. He replaced his arc reactor with a real heart. Luckily, he still becomes Iron Man later on. I was afraid he stopped being Iron Man when he destroyed the suits. Which by the way, the fight scene at the end was cool. All of the Iron Man suits, or J.A.R.V.I.S. fighting with Killian’s people.

Thor: The Dark World (2013) - I didn’t expect Thor’s mother to die, least Thor threw the hammer at Malekith. The fight at the end was pretty awesome. I thought Loki actually died, but the ending was pretty good. Where Loki (in Oden’s disguise) transforms back to himself. 

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - Didn’t expect Bucky to still be alive and having the same situation as Captain America did. Though this time he is the villain (sort of). I liked the fight between them. The cool part was when Captain America threw his shield at him, but Bucky caught it which surprised Captain. The ending was great. I was surprised to see Falcon since I didn’t know he had a suit too. Thought he was just a person that jogs along with Captain.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) - I guess Peter was part human. When I first saw this, I enjoyed the scene where Peter meets Rocket and Groot along with Gamora. The fight was cool. And then later they meet Drax. In the end, I thought Groot died, but found out they had to plant him. Now he is baby Groot! This movie was great!

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) - I didn’t expect Romanoff to love Hulk. I mean, I saw that earlier. I also didn’t know JARVIS died either. Well, technically he didn’t since he is Vision. It was cool to see the Avengers fight again! The sad part was when Hulk left leaving Romanoff sad. I kind of wished Quicksilver didn’t die. Another fight I liked was when Hulk was fighting with Iron Man with his HulkBuster suit. I thought Wanda was about to do the mind thing on Hawkeye but he sensed her coming. 

Ant-Man (2015) - Here, Luis made me laugh because the way he was telling the stories and how everyone’s voices was his voice! Also Ant-man fighting with Yellowjacket was pretty cool. The funny part was when they zap at each other or break something, but when you look at it, it looks as if nothing happened. Since they were fighting in bug sizes. Another fight I liked was Ant-man fighting with Falcon.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - I was surprised to see Black Panther showing up in this. Bunch of the fights in this were awesome. Like Black Panther going after Bucky. And then Avengers fighting with Bucky after getting hypnotized. And then when all of the Avengers (excluding some) fighting each other. It was sad to see War Machine crash down though. Well, Captain America saves Bucky from Iron Man. The ending was pretty good.

Doctor Strange (2016) - The fighting was pretty cool. I didn’t expect the end to be Thor meeting him. Part of the scene from Thor: Ragnarok. This was pretty cool to watch. Doctor Strange fighting with Kaecilius along with the other two with him was pretty cool. I didn’t know his last name was actually Strange.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) - Drax always laughing at a lot of things. Rocket made me laugh too. I kind of liked Groot as a baby. I felt bad for Groot when he was in the core and he was almost squished. The ending was pretty sad since Yondu dies. I didn’t expect Sylvester Stallone to be in this movie. It was cool! I also didn’t expect Peter’s (Starlord) father to be the villain. In the end, Groot is a teenager :D

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) - It was actually pretty funny especially Ned. The fight was great and in the end, the new suit for Peter looked way cooler!

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) - Two things: I didn’t expect this too be REALLY funny! Two, I didn’t know Thor had a sister. My favorite part was the beginning, and also when Thor sees Hulk coming in and says, “YES!” because he knows him. I like how Hulk smashes Thor like he did with Loki and Loki gets up and say, “YES!” I also liked the way Korg talked too. Their team names was pretty funny when Thor said, “Revengers!” Also, when Hulk jumped out of the space ship expecting to transform to Hulk but instead crashes on the floor with the *thump* sound. Then he turns to Hulk and fights Hela’s giant dog! The ending was awesome. I kind of wished Hela didn’t stab Thor’s eye! 

Black Panther (2018) - Finally watched this film after hearing everyone saying “IT WAS AWESOME” or “WAKANDA FOREVER”. Boseman and Jordan both did awesome in their part. The fight was the best one of all! 

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - Finally watched this film as well. I was sad at the end seeing some of the Avengers, or Marvel characters, disappear in ashes. Another sad part was seeing some dead like Loki, Gamora, Vision, and more. I didn’t expect Hulk to be beaten by Thanos, but it makes sense. I was wonder who Nick Fury tried to call, but the logo of it made me realize who it was. Can’t wait to see the other Marvel movies! Especially Avenger 4! I hope they all come back, which should happen since there will be sequels of some Marvel movies coming out.

[minoukatze]

Homecoming

Chapter Eleven

(Hot dang, I am a machine today)

“Zharrin, I swear, you were worse last night than the night before,” scolded Bardin. “You may not need a good night’s sleep, but I certainly do. ‘Bout ready to fall off my steed.”

“I’m sorry, Bardin,” Sienna replied, sounding almost earnest. “He needed comforting. I mean, imagine you just found out that that…” She gestured to Victor. “…is your brother.”

“This subject is not remotely appropriate,” Victor snapped, steering his horse along the path as shopkeepers began setting up their stalls in the dim dawn light. “And there is no proof, only malicious rumor.”

“Klaus is pretty convinced,” Sienna went on, undaunted. “Kept pacing and saying ‘Oh god, it makes so much sense’ and ‘That’s why he left me his wedding vase, I never understood’ and “I don’t look anything like Dad, and…’”

“Fuegonasus,” Victor warned. “I do not wish to h…wait, the wedding vase?” He shook his head and continued. “No! I henceforth forbid you to speak of this matter.”

They quietly rode on, exiting the town and starting onto the dirt road. The Vogel farm was visible at the crest of the hill.

“What I’m wondering is,” Bardin said finally. “If you’re the least bit alarmed that you’ve been bedding Grimgi’s kin. I mean…”

Sienna burst into laughter. “It is rather disturbing, isn’t it! Now I can’t help but wonder if a certain curve to the left is a family trait.”

“OH, FOR SIGMAR’S…” Victor yelled, face burning. “MUST YOU PLUMB THE DEPTHS OF VULGARITY EVERY TIME YOU SPEAK, WITCH? I CANNOT BEAR TO ENDURE THIS FILTH ONE SECOND LONGER.”

Victor spurred his horse ahead, Bardin and Sienna overcome with giggles.

“S’pose that’s a yes,” he heard Bardin mutter in the distance as they laughed even harder.

Victor cursed to himself the whole way, trying to drown out the scandalous banter behind him. It was bad enough to find that his father had been tomcatting all over town, but to be the subject of mockery… With how many other women had his father been involved? Was it just Agatha? Was Senden peopled by a fleet of mini-Saltzpyres? Did anyone else know? Did Mother know? Victor chuckled at that thought. Probably not. His father would have met a much earlier end had that been the case.

That said, Victor pondered the day he had received news of his father’s passing. He’d been in Nuln, delivering a report on a nearby cult he’d just infiltrated. He’d read the letter, then put it aside, unwilling to think on it at that moment. He’d needed his wits undulled by grief, though the news did not affect him as much as he would have expected. His superior had asked Victor if he’d wanted to take a few days’ leave, and Victor had declined. It was nearing Hexennacht, and he’d needed to prepare. It had been a relief to concentrate upon necromancers rather than upon the beloved dead.

Similarly, Victor had felt a strange numb relief when given news of his mother’s death. He’d finished his trials not a month before, and he’d just been delivered a transcribed note bearing Sieglinde Saltzpyre’s overwhelming pride and joy. Then, a week after, a notice stating that his mother had succumbed to a sudden nasty infection. It was perplexing. Sieglinde had always been healthy as a horse and nearly as strong. Konstanze had asked if he’d needed some time to go home and see to his father, but…no. Victor had just received his first Templar mission. He’d had to prove his worth and devotion. For a moment, Victor nearly questioned if that had been the correct decision, but he pushed aside the notion immediately. The Order was his true family, Sigmar his sole guiding light. There was no use in pondering things he could not change.

The sun had fully risen by the time Victor reached the Vogel farm, a pleasant, quiet homestead dotted with fluffy, bleating sheep. A weary-looking Markus greeted him at the door, accompanied by Kerillian, who bore a large, bloody sack.

“They’re working together.” Kerillian dumped the contents of her sack upon the ground, three grotesque heads tumbling together in the dust. Two minotaurs, one Stormvermin. “The patrol was small, but closer to this place than should be comfortable. I searched these woods, but could find neither camp nor burrow. Perhaps they’re traveling…” Kerillian heaved a frustrated sigh. “I do not know. It is rare that my skills fail me.”

“They didn’t make it to the farm, thanks to Kerillian,” Markus explained with a yawn. “Other than that, there were no disturbances. I think perhaps I should continue standing guard here, y’know, since Kerillian did find enemies lurking nearby.”

“Do you, now?” Sienna arrived, catching the conversation. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer that another of us take over so that you can catch some rest?”

“You won’t if I leave you at the inn,” Bardin cut in., gesturing to Sienna. “This one was at it again last night.”

“Ah, no,” Markus replied quickly. “I don’t mind. I’ll just sleep during the day, and that will keep me sharp overnight.”

“Mmhmm...,” Sienna grinned. “I suppose you don’t want anyone else guarding the lonely shepherdess out here on her own. Did you guard her well last night?”

Markus flushed. “It’s um…not like that…we just talked and…I’m here on a..um…y’know…professional…uh…capacity.”

Kerillian rolled her eyes. “Are we done here? I’ve no time for mayfly nonsense.”

“Was there anything of note on these creatures?” Victor asked her, grateful to return to the heart of the matter.

Kerillian reached into her pack, produced a ratty but heavy coin purse, and tossed it to Victor. “The Stormvermin was carrying this. Other than this, nothing else unusual, save that the beastmen and the ratmen seem to be allied for the moment.”

Victor opened the purse to find at least a hundred gold crowns. “This…this is most concerning. If there is no other information to be had here, I shall return to the chapterhouse and discuss your findings with Captain Weber. You, of course, are welcome to deliver the report personally…”

“No.”

Victor smiled faintly, relieved. He was in no mood to put up with the elf’s surliness. “Then I shall be off.”

The door of the house creaked open, and Kirsten peered out upon the group. “I thought I heard voices. Are you hungry? I can make breakfast if you like.”

Markus, Bardin and Sienna eagerly assented. Kerillian grudgingly accepted.

Victor, knowing where the conversation would inevitably lead, declined, mounting his horse. “While I appreciate the offer, I must return to the chapterhouse. I thank you and wish you all a good day. The rest of you, I expect to meet up with you at the chapterhouse at noon.”

“Not the inn?” Sienna asked, eyebrow cocked.

“Not the inn,” Victor growled. “Good morning to you.”

He rode away before he could catch any of the gossip, ears already burning.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735631/chapters/34603232