#decide they’re too lame/old sounding and with something more modern

[creamecream]

Fionna and Marshall Lee being fwb.

Fionna finds out she’s pregnant after an odd few days of feeling nauseous and tired.

Fionna freaks out, absolutely panics, and is very intent on not telling Marshall because she’s pretty sure he’d bail, just up and disappear.

Gary is the only one she’s actually told (besides Cake) and he also freaks out, offering repeatedly to just kick Marshall over and drag him to her until she gets her dues (child support, etc.) Fionna begs him not to.

Marshall at one point, while he and Fionna are out at a bar together, notices Fionna isn’t drinking and teases her with a “what, you pregnant or something?” Fionna nearly crushes her glass in her hand.

Marshall Lee has noticed something going on with Fionna, but she flips out when he probes even a little, so he hasn’t sat her down to talk about it yet, even though she is clearly trying to avoid him.

Fionna panics even more when it turns out to be twins.

[griff-us]

Title: Being So Normal Part: One Pairing: Black!Reader/Bucky Barnes Summary: Neither of them are very good at being normal. Good thing the spectrum of normalcy these days is anything but the definition of the word. In other words: two broken people mend together. Warnings: typical canon level violence, mentions of past abuse both physical and emotional, alcohol abuse and mentions of, drug abuse and mentions of.

Chapter Theme: Being So Normal, Peach Pit

Notes: Just a little self-indulgent series that's been sitting in the back of my brain that I have finally decided to work on after kinda scraping the previous one.

Sort of a Neighbors's AU mixed with a Coffee Shop Au. Lots of character introspection for the reader, and Bucky, and some fun and drama along the way. This will no doubt be a slow slow burn.

Hope yall enjoy and feel free to leave any comments or hit me with questions! Oh, mood board slapped together by me! Also, no Beta. Tbh I'm lazy and impatient so excuse any mistakes.

Saturday: 11:30pm

Sam was the one who convinced him to come---or maybe forced would be the better word. Life has been returning to somewhat normal for the two of them; Sam shouldering his mantle as Captain America, and James slowly easing into his role as Sergeant Barnes rather than The Winter Soldier. But, it’s not all easy, at least not for James. Normalcy is not his strong suit, not when the urgency of survival had been drilled into his skull for the past hundred years or so. Sure, he was comfortable, but not necessarily happy. James is lost, and no one can tell that more than Sam.

And that is how he’s found himself in this crowded club with flashing lights and a bass beat that he can feel in the pit of his stomach. It’s not that the environment is too much---it’s just that he feels so...odd out. After all, Jame’s idea of a night out used to be something more akin to a jazz bar and dancing. Not whatever gyrations and wiggling around the kids called dancing was these days.

God, he really is old.

“You gotta loosen up man, you’re killing my vibe.” Sam, as if on cue, shoulders into him. James scowls, making sure to keep a tight grip on his beer---if you could even call it that. The brewery it was from managed to pack so many damn spices and fruit in it that it tasted more like a cocktail than any beer he’s come to like.

“You’ve got a weird vibe then, Sam.” the other man laughs, elbows resting against the bar top behind them while he scopes out the scene. It’s a typical New York club; fashion being the forefront of it all, the entire reason anyone is out right now is to be seen and admired. Among other things.

“That cutie over there keeps tossing you looks, you should go say hi.” James follows Sam’s gaze across the bar. A gaggle of young women crowds around a booth, all of them eyeing them and whispering to one another. He rolls his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer.

“I think you mean they’re looking at you, Sam.” The super soldier turns back toward the bar to push his empty glass to the bartender who only nods his way and produces a refill without another word.

“Eyes up, Sergeant, they’re coming over.”

James doesn’t pay any mind to the coming onslaught; it’s always the same really. Sam is descended on by a group of gals excited to meet the new Captain America and even more enthralled when they realize he’s pretty damn charming. Not that he’s jealous in any way. Annoyed? Sure. See, he just isn’t one for new people---especially the kind that Sam tends to attract sometimes. The airheads, the young ones just waiting to hook up and never talk again. He just can’t vibe with it, can’t grasp it. Maybe he is too old for this modern age of love and romance.

James just turns his attention to the muted TV over the bar, his back facing the chatty group of women behind him while they flock to Sam like vultures starving for a meal. The news flashes between stories from all over; follow-ups on the last of the Flag Smashers, some weird disturbances in a tiny town somewhere far off, and a local story on a stray cat that is just “too cute to not have a home.” He snorts, lips smacking from the twang of his beer.

“Sorry about them.” The tiny voice from his left nearly makes him jump, and James can only blame the blaring music for his lack of attention.

“Huh?” He peers down to see an average height woman; with big brown eyes and skin a deep tan and sunkissed. By all accounts, she is stunning---and looks nearly as out of place in this massive club as he does.

“My friends---” her head jerks towards the group of women still fawning over Sam, who no doubt is loving all of the attention. “I tried to explain to them that you guys are just normal people too," she thinks they're normal? "but the alcohol made them all braver than they normally are.” The woman rolls her eyes but by the soft smile she wears he can tell she means no malice.

“And what about you?” James leans his full weight on the bar top now all the while inching closer to the woman. He can read the confusion on her face. “Are you feeling braver than normal?” she flushes at his clarification, and an easy shrug rolls from the shoulder.

“I’m just the mom friend trying to make sure my friends don’t end up dead, in jail, or worse.” James can’t help but laugh at that.

“A mom friend, huh?” gloved fingers pluck the pint glass from the bar and neither of them breaks eye contact while he swallows nearly half the glass.

“Yeah, kind of how I’ve always been; just an eighty-year-old woman at heart I guess.” James gives her a crooked grin: he could understand that.

“You’re too young to talk like that.” he elbows her gently, suddenly so comfortable with her presence that he can feel himself loosening up a bit.

“Then what’s your excuse?”

Brows cock high, that twisted little grin never once wavering from his face. He likes her---the idle and quiet wit, the way she matches his quips with equal stride.

“What’s your---” but before he can finish the group of girls are flagging her down, yanking her arm in one direction while they all gossip about how someone managed to snag Captain America’s number. James watches while she shoots him an apologetic smile while she is all but dragged back to their booth across the dance floor. Before he knows it, her face is lost in a sea of people.

“You would pick up the prettiest one.” Sam’s voice yanks James from his thoughts, and he looks up with narrowed eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t see that little flirt session. You get her number?”

“I’m going home.” James slaps a crisp bill on the bar top and Sam laughs, all loud and boisterous.

“You didn’t even get her name, did you, man?”

“Good night, Sam!” with hands shoved deep in his pockets, James turns heels and heads home.

Sunday: 8:am

The mornings were his favorite time to jog. Consider it a coping mechanism---not that he necessarily needed to go for mile-long runs or work out, what with the serum, but it was the only time his mind was truly quiet. So, James kept to a strict schedule of an hour or so run every morning followed up by a tall dark roast. Only today, he is late by nearly an hour to get to his usual coffee spot; which wouldn’t be terrible but James lives for routines. Without one, his entire day is skewed.

It’s eight in the morning when he strolls into the coffee shop, a tiny little place sat precariously on the corner of two streets only a couple blocks from his apartment. Clad in joggers and a simple black t-shirt, he strides up to the counter; eyes glued to the menu board for any new sweets that may catch his eye.

“Well hi again.” brows grow taught at their center---he knows that voice. James looks down to see the same woman from the night before. Black hair is piled high on her head and rather than the slim little dress from the night before she sports simple leggings and a graphic shirt of which the reference he is utterly lost on.

“Oh. Hi...uh....” blue eyes look for a name tag, and he finds none. Damn it.

“Y/N” she smiles wide at him, much like she had in the club only this time, with better lighting, he can make out the dimples that crease each of her cheeks.

“Y/N.” he repeats her name back slowly. “Uh, nice to meet you, or see you again. I guess.” he points to himself, “I’m Bucky.” said so lamely, so simply, he really can’t blame her for laughing at him.

“I know. What can I get for you, James?”

James.

That throws him; tosses him so off-kilter the man can hardly remember his order. Sure a couple people call him James, well really only his mother and his therapist when he’s in deep shit but…. To hear a name nearly forgotten to himself, and from her? Well, it turns his brain to static.

“Just a large black coffee and one of those brownies please.” She nods and starts to prep his order, all the while he stands there like an idiot with a ten-dollar bill in his hand and his heart in his throat. Finally, he finds a safe landing back on earth.

“How was the rest of your night with your friends?” Y/N groans while she pours him a fresh cup of coffee.

“Catty. I finally got the last one home around three in the morning. Got home just in time for a nap before I came in here.”

“That sounds---awful.” James trades her the coffee for the ten, and watches while she works the register.

“Wasn’t so bad. I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Y/N offers the change back to James but only nods his head toward the tip jar.

“Sounds like you earned it. Did you just start working here?" he's never seen her working here before, and per his routine, James is here around this time at least five times a week.

"Covering for a friend, I usually work the closing shift if I'm not teaching." Teaching? James would assume she'd be on the younger side to teach.

"I'll have to come more often around that time then." he watches while round cheeks twitch, and flush.

“Deal. I’ll uh...see you around, James?”

“Y-yeah. See you around, Y/N”

[rareficsnstuff]

Happy Halloween!! [Akaashi, Tendou, Bokuto]

AN: Okay, Anon, I hope the wait was worth it. I was suddenly inspired by the recent holiday so I combined your request with that element and I thought it made sense to place it in the Kuroo, Bokuto, Tendou post high-school roommates AU that I accidentally started here. Enjoy!!

Summary: Akaashi is invited to a costume party at Bokuto, Kuroo, and Tendou’s apartment, but everyone is less than pleased about his costume. And where’s Tendou?

Words: 3,878

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The doorbell’s tone mixed with the cacophony of chatter that buzzed endlessly throughout the apartment. It caught the attention of Kuroo, who had been conversing with some friends on the couch.

“Bo, that’s your turn!” he shouted over his shoulder to the kitchen.

“Yeah!” came Bokuto’s boisterous, garbled reply before he quickly threw the last bit of candy bar into his mouth and made his way over to the door. He swung the door open jarringly and it collided with the wall behind, leaving a nick in the paint.

“You shouldn’t slam doors. Be more careful, Bokuto,” the new guest scolded calmly.

“AKAASHIII! Hey, hey, hey!! You showed up ~.” Akaashi stood there looking bored, hands clasped behind his back, but as soon as the elder was finished with his verbal greeting, the younger found himself being pulled into a suffocating bear-like hug and lifted off the ground by his overjoyed friend.

“B-Bokuto… I can’t breathe… P-please put me down,” he choked out as he awkwardly hung in Bokuto’s grasp.

“Oh, sorry!” he all but dropped Akaashi on the ground, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly while Akaashi removed his coat and hung it with the rest of the guests’. “So… a ghost, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s all I had. Sorry…” Akaashi’s ‘costume’ consisted of a white thermal top, a pair of old ripped jeans, sneakers of no particular sort, and the classic white triangle strapped to his head.

“No, no! I like it! It’s like… modern ghost,” Bokuto punctuated with a grand, theatrical wave of his hands. “You look cool!”

“You’re wearing the same costume you’ve worn every year since I met you. Why don’t you ever try something different?”

“Why would I try something different?! This is the perfect costume! Owls are so cool, Why wouldn’t I be one every year?!” Bokuto shouted proudly. Akaashi’s response was to simply stare blankly.

“Right, stupid question. Sorry…” he added dryly. Bokuto shrugged, throwing a hearty slap to Akaashi’s back, knocking the wind out of the younger and making him stumble forward.

“Okay, okay, come in, Akaashi!! You have to see what Tendou and Kuroo did with the decorations! They’re awesome!!” Bokuto cheered, closing the door and pushing Akaashi further inside by his shoulders. “Oh, and their costumes are cool, too! But I bet you can’t guess what Tendou is ~,” he sang in a challenging tone. Akaashi sighed.

At that moment, Kuroo looked over his shoulder at the commotion by the front door. “Heeey, Akaashi! Good ta see ya!” He stood, moving towards them to clap Akaashi on the shoulder. Akaashi’s jaw fell.

“What the-- “

“Whoa, wait a minute, where’s your costume?!” Kuroo fussed, pointing a disappointed finger at Akaashi’s chest. The shorter made a lame gesture of presenting himself with a lazy wave of his hand over his body before he let his hand fall back limply to his side.

“… That’s it…” less of a question, and more of a disappointed statement. Akaashi additionally pointed to the white triangle on his forehead. “Oh, yeah. That’s- that’s much better. Your costume’s pretty wimpy there, Akaashi…” Kuroo finished, dropping the sarcasm.

“It’s all I had,” Akaashi blandly repeated from his earlier conversation with Bokuto.

“Really…” Kuroo’s tone irritated Akaashi. Was he trying to pick a fight or something? The shorter’s eyes narrowed ever-so slightly, but Kuroo still picked up on it. Kuroo reached out, grabbing Akaashi’s headpiece and pulling it away only to let it snap back into place. Akaashi winced, lifting a hand to swat Kuroo’s away.

“Speaking of costumes, what the hell is yours supposed to be?!” Damn… provocation expert for a reason, huh? Akaashi didn’t care right now, though – he just felt like glaring at pain-in-the-ass Kuroo just at the moment. Kuroo smirked with a chuckle.

“What, you can’t tell?” he stopped, waiting for Akaashi to try and guess. Akaashi only continued scowling. “Mad scientist, dud! C’mon!” Sure enough, Kuroo was wearing a white lab coat spattered in fake blood and green faux chemicals over a worn out, grey t-shirt. He had an old pair of torn up corduroys that didn’t quite reach his ankles, long, neon green socks and some old brown loafers that were about a size-and-a-half too large. His hair though, was the real eye catcher: people who knew him would immediately be drawn to the fact that you could see both eyes!! Gone was his usual style of rooster-esque bedhead. He must have spent a lot of time and product to get all his unruly, wiry locks to stand strait up like that. The final details – Akaashi felt were a bit over the top – were a bit of dark eye makeup beneath his eyes – to make him look sleep-deprived, Akaashi supposed – and a pair of large and broken, circular-framed glasses hanging from his t-shirt collar.

“Not much different from how you usually look, is it?” Akaashi snarked. Kuroo’s haughty smirk fell.

“Someone’s in a bad mood tonight,” Bokuto interjected, looking awkwardly between the two.

“Hey, Akaashi, you seen Tendou tonight yet?” Kuroo asked. There was an odd, baiting tone to the question, but Akaashi couldn’t begin to guess where this was going.

“No. I just got here.”

“Well, unlike yours ~, his costume is superb! And I bet you can’t guess what it is?” Kuroo almost growled. There was no question that was a challenge. Now Akaashi just needed to decide if he cared.

Perplexed, Akaashi asked, “What are you getting at?” Kuroo only grinned, eyes glinting mischievously and Akaashi’s brows furrowed untrustingly in response.

“Oh hey, Bo, it’s almost 8 o’clock! I gotta get going!”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries, man! Say hi to Kenma for me, okay?” Bokuto replied sweetly.

“Sure thing!” One final swig from a cup of apple cider nearby, a clap on Bokuto’s back and an elbow nudge at Akaashi before a quick stop at the entryway closet to grab his coat and Kuroo was out the door.

“Kuroo tried to get Kenma to come, but I guess the shrimp wanted to stay in this year. So he’s gonna go spend the rest of the night over there and watch horror movies n’ stuff…” Bokuto explained.

Suddenly, from somewhere in the apartment, there was a shout followed by a string of giggles. Akaashi figured it was coming from one of the bedrooms, but he didn’t really care too much; probably some idiots on a sugar high from all the candy and sweets. He rolled his eyes, but Bokuto looked towards the commotion and chuckled.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi! Look at this!” Bokuto exclaimed, suddenly jumping to one side only to stand in front of a black light that was set up against a wall. He crouched into a kneel on one leg with is arms wrapped around him like a vampire, the feathered sleeves and horned (and beaked) hood of the owl onesie providing more cover to his face. Pausing there a moment – to build suspense? – he suddenly looked up dramatically whilst simultaneously throwing his arms open in a ‘menacing’ way, his face dramatized into a bold, sneering grin. The light from behind caught his form, lighting up the white in his costume and face, making him look like a gargoyle from a children’s television program. Though that probably wasn’t quite the affect Bokuto had been going for. Akaashi stared, trying to process what he was looking at and contain the urge to press his palm across his face.

“Very spooky, Bokuto…” he finally said, to which the ‘gargoyle’ stood to his full height, fists on his hips, and laughed triumphantly – obnoxiously, in Akaashi’s opinion. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss this at all and he found one corner of his mouth lifting. Only a little.

“Didn’t my roomies do a great job on the decorations?!” Bokuto asked proudly. Akaashi looked around, fully observing the décor for the first time.

“Yeah, they really did. The place looks great,” he said truthfully. Again, there was a sudden burst of laughter from somewhere in the apartment. Two voices this time, one more desperate than the other. Akaashi’s head snapped in that direction for a second before glancing back at Bokuto who was, again, grinning in that direction before he turned to meet Akaashi’s eyes with another chuckle.

“Anyways, there’s lots of food and drinks n’ stuff in the kitchen, so help yourself. And you have to try the apple cider; that’s my grandma’s recipe! It’s awesome!” he finished, pumping a fist into the air as he turned and went to mingle with his other guests.

Akaashi stood there awkwardly for half a minute before he decided to fix himself a plate of food. The evening was pleasant enough; he caught up with several old friends and acquaintances and even met some great new people. These were all friends and teammates from Bokuto, Kuroo, and Tendou’s high school years. All pleasant people in their own ways and Akaashi was almost fully enjoying himself after the whole Kuroo dispute. He hadn’t seen much of Bokuto since he left him to his own devices but the elder seemed to be getting around. He was in his element after all – one of them anyways. Every so often, however, there were those random bouts of laughter coming from somewhere in the apartment. He was never in the same room when it happened though; anytime he moved to another room, whatever was going on had suddenly moved to the room he had just left. And he had yet to spot the elusive Tendou...

By about 11 o’clock, the majority of the guests had gone home and more were trickling out by the minute. He and Washio were the only two left in the living room, comfortably chatting on the couch. Even then, with all the rest of the non-residential people left in that apartment, laughter once again sounded through the apartment. Bokuto’s laughter. Loud and boisterous intermingled with (apparently) Tendou’s own laughter. Akaashi thought about asking Washio if he knew anything about this, but decided against it, and all too soon, Washio was excusing himself to go home, going to find the other two for a quick goodbye before he grabbed his coat and walked out the door. Akaashi found himself alone, slowly nursing the last of his eighth glass of apple cider.

“Yooo ~, Akaashi ~! Haven’t seen you all night!” Akaashi turned to see, finally, Tendou emerging from the darkened hallway. Akaashi froze. What the hell was he looking at?!

Bokuto trailed in behind him looking like he’d just run a ten minuet mile; panting and cheeks glowing red, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead.

“Yeah, I guess… I guess we just kept missing each other… I’ve been here since eight,” Akaashi stammered, almost in a daze as his expression became something like concerned confusion. He was so distracted by-- what in god’s name was Tendou wearing?!

“Alright! Hang on! Wait! Full stop! Is that your costume?!” Tendou accused pointing a disgusted finger at Akaashi as his face twisted into abhorred imploration. The younger had to close his eyes, taking a minute to inhale deeply through his nose and release it in a heavy, frustrated sigh.

“Yes. It’s all. I had,” Akaashi bit out.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to get huffy, Kaashi, just making an observation,” Tendou attempted to sooth.

“You were making a criticism…”

“And what the hell are you supposed to be, Tendou!” Akaashi shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet.

“Yeah, you’re right, I was- but you gotta admit… your costume’s shit-“

“Akaashiii ~,” Bokuto sang, finally speaking up. “You’re supposed to guess ~.” The two residents both smiled at their guest, Bokuto’s expression was affectionate and playful while Tendou’s was smug.

Fuzzy. Red. Neck to ankles. Like he had taken part of an Elmo costume from a thrift store. There was a pair of matching red yeti slippers to complete the coverage while his fingernails had been painted black and a pair of black horns peeking out amidst his mess of spiky, red hair. The finishing touch, a bright green, feather boa lei necklace.

“How the hell am I supposed to guess?! You look like you just grabbed the first handful of things you could find at a second hand store!”

“Well, at least we know I put in more effort than you,” Tendou sassed to which Akaashi huffed. There went his good mood. “Anyways, you seem a little grumpy today, don’t you ~?”

“Yeah he’s kinda been that way tonight,” Bokuto confirmed, much to Akaashi’s growing irritation.

“I wonder why…” Akaashi mumbled under his breath.

“So… You really can’t guess what I am, Kaashi?” Tendou purred, creeping towards their grumpy ‘ghost’ guest.

“No. I have no idea. Wha- what are you-- ”

“You really need to guess what he is, Akaashi. But don’t worry, we can help you out with that ~,”

“Guys… What’s going on? You’re kinda freaking me out- please stop inching towards me.”

“I’ll inch wherever I want,” Tendou snipped playfully, looming ever closer to Akaashi and his growing unease of the situation. The red-head had him so distracted – and, frankly, terrified – that he entirely forgot Bokuto had been creeping up behind him.

“AH! BOKUTO! Put me down!” His old Captain had grabbed him from behind, scooping him up by hooking his arms under his Kohai’s. Now Akaashi’s heels were lifted off the ground and he could just barely manage to stand on tip toe. His arms dangled out to the side as he waved them around uselessly and his white thermal rose up to reveal a sliver of skin at his stomach.

“Still no ideas ~?” Tendou’s voice was oozing with mischief, giving Akaashi one final chance.

“… Wanna feel how hard I can kick?” Akaashi bit, snidely, making Tendou chuckle. And that was the last straw.

“Grmph!” Akaashi choked on a grunt, eyes widening into saucers and lips pressing together into a tight line. Every muscle in his body locked up in panic, but when Tendou’s thumbs on his sides continued in those unbearable kneading circles, he could feel himself starting to twitch and his diaphragm beginning to flutter with oncoming laughter. The laughter itself started as exhaled huffs of air and sharp inhales through his nose as his eyes closed and lips curled up more and more as the maddening sensation built.  When Tendou switched his touch to a claw-like kneading up and down his quivering sides, Akaashi couldn’t help the light chuckles that slipped from his throat as he turned his face into his shoulder and bit his lip to try and contain some of his more ridiculous reactions. Bokuto and Tendou grinned at each other.

“Oh, Kaashi… I think you can do better ~,” Tendou cooed, traveling his torturous claws upwards just to nibble at his lowest ribs. This had him spasming and trying to back away from the silly touch, but Bokuto easily prevented that sort of escape. The thing about Akaashi, though…, he didn’t hate his laugh, but… he had always been embarrassed to laugh fully in front of people. He didn’t even know why but, in this situation, he couldn’t really help it.

“Ppphht-hehe-- nooohohohahaaa!” Akaashi’s laughter picked up along with his struggling. He gave a few valiant attempts to pull his arms down, but ultimately realized that, with Bokuto being the one holding him in place, there was no chance of that… So, in a desperate attempt to protect himself, he reflexively brought his knees up as a flimsy barrier against Tendou’s searching hands.

“Oh, no, sorry, Akaashi. That isn’t gonna help you, bud,” Bokuto teased, feigning  pity as he turned his hands to flutter his fingers at Akaashi’s ears, making him squeak and shake his head. Tendou cackled at this.

“You would know, wouldn’t you, Bo-Bo!” he said, grinning. Keeping one hand at Akaashi’s ribs, he moved the other to one of the now presented knees, making him kick out in reflex. Tendou must have been expecting this response, because he stepped aside just in time to not be kicked in the gut. All hilarity aside, he did not actually want to know how hard Akaashi could kick. “Easy there, Kaashi…”

“Naho! S-stohop thahaaaat!” Stupid Bokuto! Why did he have to be so strong?! With all Akaashi’s flailing, his former Captain wouldn’t budge!

“You’re sooo wiggly ~!” the red-head teased, moving to loop an arm around Akaashi’s kicking leg so he could hold it in place while he scribbled black painted nails at the inside of his knee through a hole in his jeans while still keeping one hand free to explore elsewhere. “Soooo? What am I, Kaashi  ~? Any ideas yet?”

“Drohop dead!” Akaashi giggled, quite unthreateningly.

“Alright, now that wasn’t even an attempt at a guess… And it was kinda mean…” Bokuto said from behind, still occasionally ghosting against his ears just to get that squeak again.

“Yeeeah! It was kinda mean!” Tendou agreed, ominously. The tickling stopped and Tendou dropped Akaashi’s captive leg. The ‘ghost’ took this chance to catch his breath, finally letting his feet reunite with the ground and attempting to regain some composure – but with his pink face, glossy eyes, and twitching lips, there was little hope for that. It was a couple seconds later that Akaashi realized that it was quiet and the other two had yet to do anything. Bashfully, he looked up, meeting Tendou’s predatory gaze and impish smirk. The sight made Akaashi’s blood run cold.

“You’ve really done it now,” Tendou started, dangerously. “You’ve disrespected me. You’d better tell me who I am… Or I’ll never stop.” With that, at lightning speed, one hand latched itself to Akaashi’s hip while the other fused with his ribs, fingers kneading, digging, worming, and spidering any way they could, looking for the best reactions. Akaashi careened when Tendou vibrated his fingers into his hip, wheezing around his laughter. To be honest, Akaashi hadn’t even really been thinking about what Tendou’s horrendous costume could be; caught off guard by the sudden tickling and then being too busy laughing… he didn’t have the time or focus.

“Wait a minute, Tendou, hang on…” Bokuto said, sounding way too excited for Akaashi’s liking. To his horror, Akaashi suddenly felt Bokuto slipping his arms out from under his only to readjust his hold to have both his Kohai’s wrists held above his head in one hand. He couldn’t have resisted that if he tried.

“OOooo!” Tendou sang, fingers wiggling excitedly. “Thanks Bo-Bo!”

“Oh no, noho, no, no, no- guys, please! Pleahese dohahaaaahahaha!” With his torso fully vulnerable, Tendou dove right in once more, switching between scribbling, massaging, and vibrating. Akaashi was screeching. He seriously couldn’t remember giggling so hard in his life, with his wrists tugging desperately (but uselessly) at Bokuto’s restraining grip and his face getting redder by the minute-- god was he crying? “GAAA! B-Bokuhuhuhehee! Bohokutoho, DON’Ttthehehe!” And it was getting worse. Bokuto had started running his fingers along his spine, digging his finger into the backs of his ribs, and scratching at his shoulder blades and neck.

“Awww ~ Look at you all ticklish, Akaashi ~. I can’t believe I never knew about this ~,” Bokuto cooed, grinning at the way Akaashi arched away from his touch.

“Yeah, you’re really losing it here, Kaashi ~. Is it that bad ~? Is this just completely unbearable ~?” Tendou’s baby talk had him burying his face in his arm once again, stomping a foot on the wood floor – a vain attempt to alleviate the hilarious, buzzing sensations coursing through him. “Well, it’s gonna get worse, boyo. Who. Am. I?” The way Tendou’s voice shifted so quickly and drastically from baby talk to that ominously, teasing tone… If Akaashi wasn’t laughing so hard, he’d probably be cowering in fear right now.

“WHOAHAHA! HEHEY! NoaaAAA, NOHAAO!” Oops… there was a squeal in there… Yeah, he was never living this down. But Tendou had started running one hand from one of Akaashi’s underarms, down to his hip, while his other hand did the opposite: from his hip, up to his underarm. Akaashi’s brain couldn’t keep up. His knees buckled and he sank to the floor as much as Bokuto’s grip would allow.

“C’mon, Akaashi, you gotta have an idea by now, don’t you?” Bokuto asked, fingers nibbling at the base of his neck. The poor guy didn’t know which way to squirm. Akaashi nodded weakly, tears definitely falling now.

“Oh do you?! Aaand ~?” Tendou inquired, now concentrating solely on his victim’s hips. Akaashi stumbled forward, neck too weak to lift his head to protect against Bokuto’s ongoing attack and only allowing his head to hang down pathetically as he cackled like no one had ever heard him do before.

“AAAAHAha! PleaHA-- YOU-HA-- YOUHA’RE THE T-t-heehehehe! T-t-tTIHICKLE MOHONSTEHEHER! STAHA--! PLEAHEEESE- STAHAHAAAP!!” Wow… Now he had resorted to begging. They were never, ever going to let him live this down.

“Sorry, what was that, ghosty boy ~? I couldn’t quite catch it ~.” And of course Tendou was going to drag this out. He is the tickle monster after all…

Tendou went from massaging Akaashi’s poor hips to vibrating claws into them while Bokuto also switched to poke around under his arms.

“TIHICKLE MONSTER! YOHOU’RE THE T-TICKLE MOHONSTEHEHAHAAAA!”

“rrrRRRIGHT YOU ARE, BOYO!” And finally, the tickling stopped. For good this time and Bokuto released his wrists to gently lower him to the ground where he crumpled into a giggling lump as the other two grinned down at him fondly. “I gotta say, Kaashi, I’m pretty disappointed… It took you waaaay longer to figure it out than anyone else.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Akaashi panted lightly. “You look like you just grabbed a bunch of stuff from a second hand store and threw ‘em together into that disaster…” He opened one eye to glance playfully at Tendou.

“You want me to tickle you some more ~? Bo-Bo, get-- ”

“NO! No, okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The younger pleaded, making his two Sempai snicker.

“Well, actually, you’re not far off. That’s just about what I did do. I’d had the idea planned out for months, but I still needed the pieces, so I thought the easiest way to find them was second hand stores at stuff…” Tendou replied, a pondering expression on his face as he recalled the experience. Akaashi chuckled, throwing a palm over his eyes when Bokuto joined in heartily and Tendou followed soon after in his own string of wild giggles. When they had all calmed down, Tendou extended a hand to help Akaashi up who graciously accepted.

“Okay, be honest, Kaashi… is that really all you had ~?” the red-head prodded, cocking an eyebrow incredulously at the younger. Akaashi grinned.

“No. Heh… I just didn’t want to deal with it. I grabbed the first thing out of my closet and made the headpiece out of an old napkin!” he finished just before breaking out into giggles again and sending the other two over the edge as well.

“Hey, I still think it looks great!” Bokuto chirped, clapping Akaashi on the back.

“Thanks, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, grinning at his former Captain.

“Happy Halloween, everybody!!” Tendou exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air jubilantly, making the other two laugh again. Akaashi shook his head.

“Weirdest Halloween ever…”

[ourownsideimagines]

Hide My Wings Tonight Chapter Two: The Ark

Chapter Two has been posted to my AO3 account!

Here is the link!

For those of you who want to read it here, it will be placed below the cut. Chapter Two takes place after the Garden of Eden, at Noah’s Ark!

“(Name), my dear, I believe if you hold my hand any tighter you may end up breaking it.” Aziraphale warned his sister softly as she gazed out over the field where Shem, Ham, and Japheth herded animals in pairs of two onto Noah’s ark. She let out a shaky breath, and decided letting go of his hand would be her best option, lest she actually end up breaking something. There were a few moments of silent watching before (name) found her voice.

“I don’t like this.” She told him. Aziraphale let out a deep sigh, but did not turn to look at her. He kept his gaze outward.

“Yes, I know.” He clasped his hands together and took in a deep breath. “But it must be done.” He reminded her, his tone soft and full of remorse. Name closed her eyes, allowing the cold breeze to sweep through her, taking in a breath of her own.

“Hello (name),” Her eyes snapped open, and she turned quickly. To her surprise, the demon Crawly had slithered up beside her. He was staring down at her, then looked towards her brother. “Aziraphale.” He acknowledged.

“Crawly,” They greeted him together, but (name) didn’t dare say much else. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold back her tears if they began to fall.

“So, Aziraphale, giving the mortals a flaming sword - how’d that work out for you?” Crawly kept his gaze on Aziraphale, and (name) turned her own back to the ark. A part of her worried that they would be unable to board all the animals before the flood began. The other part hoped that the flood wouldn’t happen at all - but she knew the hope was of no use. God had made up her mind.

“The Almighty have never actually, uh, mentioned it again.” Aziraphale said.

“You pretended not to know what happened, you think she believed you?” (Name) spoke up suddenly, sharply. Aziraphale gave her a look. Crawly did as well, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Probably a good thing she didn’t, then.” He then cast his golden eyes out over the animals, and (name) drew her gaze back to him. He hadn’t changed much, from what she could tell. Like Aziraphale, he had traded in his old garb for something more local and modern. And his hair was a tad longer, and a bit messier. “What’s all this about? Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo?”

Oh, right. The ark.

(Name) tensed again, and let her hand slip back into Aziraphale’s. He squeezed gently, his gaze softening before he looked up at Crawly.

“God’s a bit… tetchy,” He started. “Wiping out the human race. Big storm.” (Name) held her breath, afraid the next would start the cascade. Crawly glanced out once more before turning back to the two of them, confusion painted all over his face.

“All of them?” He asked.

“Just the locals,” Aziraphale said quickly. “I don’t believe the Almighty’s upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.” (Name) wanted to scream, with her whole being she wanted to scream.

How? How could she do this?

“Yet.” Crawly seethed.

“And God’s not actually going to wipe out all of the locals.” Aziraphale reassured lamely. “I mean, there’s Noah up there, his family, his sons, their wives, they’ll all be fine.”

“Fat lot of good that’ll do.” (Name) murmured. Aziraphale gave her hand another squeeze.

“But they’re drowning everybody else?” (Name) closed her eyes again. She could sense the change in the breeze, the drop in the temperature. The storm would start any minute now, and she and her companions would have to miracle away.

She would have to leave everybody behind.

Everybody.

The sound of a child’s laughter caught her attention. (Name)’s eyes snapped open, and she saw a little girl digging up rocks with another little girl. Her heart broke at the sight of them. 

If only I could grab them, if only I could save them.

“Not the kids,” Crawly said breathily. (Name) brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Aziraphale, with a deep breath, began nodding. “You can’t kill kids.” She choked back a sob, and Aziraphale moved an arm around her, pulling her to his side. “That’s… more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do.” Crawly said solemnly.

“Yes, but, when it’s done the almighty going to put up a new thing called a, uh,” Aziraphale stumbled over his words, so (name) helped him.

“A rainbow.” She whispered, pulling away from her brother to look out over the slowly depleting animal field. “As a promise not to do it again.”

“How kind.” Crawly said sarcastically.

“You can’t judge the almighty, Crawly.” Aziraphale said. “God’s plans are-”

“Are you going to say ‘ineffable’?” Crawly interrupted, and a small part of (name) wanted to laugh. There was a moment before replied with a low ‘possibly’. (Name) jumped as Crawly called out, loudly “Oi! Shem!” And, pointing dramatically he continued. “That unicorn’s going to make a run for it-” But it was too late- “Oh, too late- Too late! Well, you’ve still got one of them!” There was a loud crash of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning, and the sky opened up above them. (Name) let out a shuddering breath, and pulled herself away from Aziraphale.

“We should go,” She told them. “Before we get caught in the flood.”

“Yes, that would be for the best.” Aziraphale agreed. He placed a hand on her lower back, and began to guide her away. “Until a later day, Crawly.”

“Yes,” Crawly said, and (name) met his gaze momentarily. He looked sad - and she couldn’t blame him. She probably looked the same. (Name) turned away her gaze and allowed Aziraphale to guide her away from the ark.

She kept her gaze down as they walked, and let them fall closed as Aziraphale miracled them away, back to heaven.

“Ah, Aziraphale, (name),” The way that Gabriel said her name sent a shiver up her spine. Her eyes snapped open and brought her gaze up to his. She could feel her cheeks flush pink as his violet eyes bore into her.

“Gabriel,” She spoke gently despite her tears, which had mixed in with the rain water. Gabriel snapped, and Aziraphale and (name) were dried. (Name) brushed out her robes gently, smiling as if she hasn’t cried for the people they had left behind. “Thank you.”

“So,” Gabriel began, clasping his hands together. “How did the flood go?”

“Just as planned,” Aziraphale confirmed. “The ark is prepared to, as the say ‘set sail’.”

“Though, a unicorn got away.” (Name) sighed gently, fists clenched behind her back to keep composition.

“What a shame,” Gabriel said loftily. “But, all creatures are meant to die off eventually.” (Name) did her best to smile and nod along to his words, but a part of her broke inside at the reminder. 

“Of course.” Aziraphale said. “All part of the Great Plan.”

“So,” (Name) said, taking in a deep breath, prepared to throw herself back into work so she could forget the horrors of the day. It was, after all, a part of the Great Plan. And she couldn’t go against the Great Plan, regardless of how she felt about it. “What do we have to do next?”

[voxvulgi]

multiples of 6 - for whoever you think has the best answer including youuuu (you can skip those you don't like xD)

// alright so *cracks knuckles* *puts on accountant hat* *takes out calculator* in 100, the largest multiple of 6 is 96, which has 16 6′s in it. i have 18 muses, but 4 of them are exclusive, so i can stick to the 14 non-exclusive muses and have 2 questions to spare, which i can answer myself

Keep reading

6: do you keep plants? 

“I do. I live alone, so the flat feels dead sometimes. Plants help me feel like I don’t live alone. I do like isolation, but that’s only to a certain extent. Plants are living beings you have to take care of, and they’re a sight for sore eyes, too. I especially like them in the kitchen. When I wake up to make breakfast, the sun is at an angle that pours gold into my kitchen window, and the specific shade of green of their leaves is absolutely gorgeous. I also have a group of small pots to plant thyme and rosemary and such. I could just buy them fresh, but picking your spices yourself every now and again just...engulfs the senses.”

12: what's your favorite planet? 

“When Malik asked me this question and I told him Uranus, he laughed at me for ten minutes straight. At first, he laughed for a few seconds because he thought I was making a joke, but when I told him I was serious, he laughed for the rest of the ten. I really wish scientists just let Uranus be called Ouranos. Did they really not consider that sometime in the future, a girl would tell someone that her favourte planet was your-anus and get laughed at? Rude. But anyway, Uranus is my favourite planet...literally just because it’s pretty. Blue is my favourite colour. Also, it’s the only planet that spins on its side, which was what made me decide that it was more worthy of being my favourite planet than Neptune. Neptune just goes with the flow. Lame, right? Uranus is not like other planets. It’s different. It stays home and eats chicken nuggets instead of going to parties. Also, it was the only planet named after a Greek god instead of a Roman one, and when I found that out, I was like finally, and I just made it my favourite planet.”

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

“I live with my cousins, alright? They own a pub. So, basically, we live upstairs, and the pub is downstairs and open until late. My cousins don’t have a problem with this because they set their won work hours and wake and sleep as they please and all, but I have to attend work with the local herbalist sometimes because she trains me. So, one night, the pub was open well after the usual closing time because some man was getting married in a few days and wanted to celebrate with his friends. I’m not the kind of person to tell people how to live their lives and how late to go to bed, but I was irritated and went downstairs to ask my cousin when this would be over. You know, just so I could get a good idea of when I’ll finally be able to sleep. When I got there, the man to be married was flirting with the barmaid. I would have ignored it, but she looked terribly uncomfortable. I told him off first, and it didn’t work-- obviously. So I went back to my room and gathered some leftover poison ivy powder. I went back downstairs, flirted with him, and unbuckled his belt in front of all his friends. They ooh’ed and ahh’ed because they’re idiots, then I tugged on the back of his waistband and left him with poison ivy all over his arse. I waited until his face twisted and he started drunkenly panicking, then I left. That man didn’t know I’m related to the owners since my cousins are white and all, so there was no harm done to the pub’s reputation, but my cousins and the pub workers -- even the barmaid -- now keep asking me not to hide poison ivy in their pants whenever I look even mildly disapproving.”

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

“I’d trust Alan with every one of my secrets. Except if I do something that isn’t actually worrying but I think might worry him anyway. Because he’s a worrier. That’s not technically a secret.”

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

“Look, I think everyone has been truly scared. There’s always a moment in their life that really scares them, and just because it isn’t as scared as they can psychologically be doesn’t mean it wasn’t true scared. So yes, I have been truly scared. The most scared I’ve ever been was, obviously enough, when I got the phone call from my mother about Joseph.”

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

“Branches. They’re upbeat but at the same time make me feel calm and relaxed, which is thankfully my mood in general.”

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

“My favourite coffee shop is a block down from my work. I rarely take work there, usually just buy a coffee and leave or stay for a while and lounge. It’s my favourite because they make the coffee taste how it smells. If coffee doesn’t taste the way it smells, you might as well be drinking mud water. They practically have walls instead of windows, and there’s this terrace on the second floor. It gives you a good view of the street. Looks best in the morning because there’s a park just a street away and people everywhere. The coffee shop itself -- the interior, I mean -- is just clean and tidy. Their seats are comfortable but don’t look like something a wannabe hippie would own. They like their plants in moderation. Their tables are glass, not metal or wood. They don’t have puns or cheesy quotes anywhere. I like that.”

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

“My biggest fear was that a dragon would kidnap my mom and hide her in a tower. I thought and still think that my mom is so pretty! So I figured that if a dragon was going to kidnap someone, it would be my mom. I don’t have that fear now, but I’m...well, I’m really afraid of Jace dying.”

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

“Jenny and Dean last father’s day. Their dad’s already been dead for about a year at that point, but...hell, it’s their dad. I probably looked really sad, too, and he wasn’t even my biological dad.”

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

“I do like poetry. Not big on the older stuff, mostly because of the language barrier. The modern stuff is easier to understand. I actually prefer confessional poetry because it’s like looking into the dark corners of someone’s mind, and not in this romanticised way. Not for me, at least. This certain kind makes me feel seen because when someone shares their experiences from behind their own eyes, in their own shoes, they experience emotions and thoughts that are so raw and human that I feel less alone reading them. I haven’t read that much, to be honest, so I don’t have favourites. I’ve only read the more popular ones that have been coming out in the past decade, so I think picking a favourite is unfair because my pool is so small.”

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? 

“I don’t know. I’ve never worn a flower crown, but I suppose that if I were given one, I’d like for it to have a good amount of leaves along with the flowers. Green is my favourite colour. The flowers can be anything, but I think open ones look better. Maybe daisies-- they sound perfect. Yellows and pinks and reds would be welcome, too, as long as there’s a good amount of white daisies.”

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

“I would not say I forget easily, but I note everything down, just in case. Some things are too important to get wrong, while others just cause avoidable inconvenience. It helps me organise my time and prioritise, too, so I just opt for making notes.”

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

“Fanclub! They’re very cute. I only saw them in that movie called Despicable Me. Most of the time, Ivan and I aren’t allowed to use the TV, but it was on one of the days we were allowed, so we watched it. I liked it a lot. The minions are so full of energy and happy and stuff.”

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

“Ooooh, yes!! I’m gonna get a bunch of tattoos! They won’t be anything fancy, though. Just some stars and smiley faces here and there. They’ll all be in colour. Nothing black or white. There’s probably gonna be some small dinosaurs. And music notes. Oh, and rocket ships! I’ll just get a tattoo every time I think of something. They’ll be small. Like, and inch or something, so there’s plenty of room!”

90: talk about one of your favorite cities.

“Paris is my favourite city. The thing about it is...it loves you. That’s how I can describe it. It’s a very old city, okay? A lot of shit went down in it. There were wars and revolutions and all that. I admit that I don’t know much about the historical details because I sucked ass in history class, but I just feel like Paris was founded on fighting, and people fight for their rights and the things they love. So...I think that every building in Paris was made with love and built with a purpose. I don’t like New York because I feel like it just wants to eat you. Paris loves you. I’m very appreciative of that, and I’m appreciative of the buildings most of all. Especially the old ones are gorgeous. I try to incorporate as much of Paris into my architecture models as I could.”

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

“Not really quickly. If I just got on my computer and it tells me it needs to update, I wait until I’m done with my task before I update it. Otherwise, it’ll keep bothering me about it, so I just like to get it over with. Similar thing with my phone. I postpone the update until bedtime then let it update while I sleep. No need to let it disturb the flow of my day, you know? But I’m still gonna do it. I’m not a big procrastinator.”

[jadekitty777]

I debated so hard on what words to pick for my request but! I think I've finally settled on "Trust" and "Dance"! Tbh I know you only sent me one word, though, so if you would rather just pick one or the other and go with that, that's totally fine! Whatever tickles your fancy, honestly. I'll be happy to read any Taiqrow you write askldfm

Me: Drabble? That’s like five thousand words, right?

I’m pretty sure getting me to write something concisely is moreimpossible than finding Atlantis. But I’m so super pleased with how this oneturned out. Also, I re-wrote the summary no less than six times.

Title: Won’t Say, Don’t Say (I’m Falling in Love)

Summary: A bitter loner and a hopeless romantic walk into a bar onenight… and you all know how this joke ends, don’t you? [Modern AU]

Rating: T

Pairings: Taiqrow and Raven/Summer

AO3 Link: Right Here!

~

The bumping sounds of bass spilled out the door of the danceclub as it was opened and then closed with the admittance of another patron,moving the rest of those waiting in line another blissful inch. Tai steppedforward, grateful they were almost to the front. He rocked on his heels toalleviate some of the ache in his knees, looking down when he felt Summer latchonto his arm. She had probably spent an hour in front of the mirror, each bitof her make-up so immaculately placed, with glitter accents around her eyesthat would sparkle under the colored lights once they hit the floor. She wasdefinitely dressed to impress tonight.

“Ooh, I can’t wait for you to meet them!”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was probably thefifth time he’s heard that since he’d agreed to join her.  “Don’t get tooexcited Sums. I came along to have fun, not find a date.”

“Yeah, you say that, buuuut-” She trailed off, letting therest of the sentence hang.

“Hey, I’ve been getting better!” He argued, tucking his facein his collar.

“To get better, you need to actually date someoneTai. Not avoid dating entirely. That’s called ‘ignoring the problem.’.”

“I’m not ignoring it. I’m just… taking a break!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Tai sighed. He knew there really wasn’t any use in arguing.He was pretty sure there was some unwritten universal law that if you knew aperson for more than fifteen years, it was impossible to lie to them. Or maybehe just couldn’t lie to the one girl that he introduced himself to by placing acrown of dandelions on her head while declaring her as his ‘forever flowerprincess’. She responded to such an honest declaration of love in the way anyeight-year-old should: By calling him a stupid dum-dum and throwing sand in hisface.

They’d been best friends ever since.

Of course, having such an honorary place in his life alsomeant that she got to watch from a front row seat whenever he got his heartbroken. Almost like a true movie-goer, the first few times she saw the storyplay out, her heart-strings tugged at his every struggle and pain. By the tenth time,she was yelling at the screen for him to stop making the same stupid decisionsbefore the first scene was even over. Eventually, those criticisms and hisaching chest got through to him, and he decided to just stop performingaltogether.

He had a suspicion that because the screen had stayed blackfor more than a year now, his biggest fan had grown bored with the lack ofentertainment. Why else would she try to turn herself into a director?

“I’m just saying, if you meet someone you like, you shouldgive it a chance.” She jabbed her elbow into his side. “I know you miss beingsomeone’s prince.”

He nudged her back, but her smile was too infectious not tocatch. “Oh, shut up.”

“You know you love me.” She said. A buzzing drew herattention and she pulled out her phone from her handbag. Tai’s assumptions thatit was her girlfriend was proven right when Summer announced, “Raven saidthey’re at the corner of the bar when we get inside.”

Just in time too, because they were next in line. Afterbeing carded and screened, they were allowed inside. It was like walking fromnight into day, the air turning from brisk and breezy to heavy and hot withinseconds of entering the club, the ground under his feet seeming to shake withevery beat of the rhythm blasting from the speakers. Tai had to blink awayspots as he adjusted to the flashing lights.

Summer stood on her tiptoes, scoping out the room. “Oh, Isee them!” She tugged him along as she weaved around the crowd and straighttowards a pair sitting at the quieter end of the bar. His eyes were drawn tothe female of the two, impressed by the wild, black hair cascading down herback. “Rae!”

And it was she who turned to that call, giving him his firstgood look at the mysterious girlfriend he’d been hearing about for weeks. Shewas as stunning as Summer had gushed over, her facial features a perfectcontrast of sharp in the nose and chin, yet delicate in the pale moonlit whiteof her skin and eyes red like gemstones. He may have even thought herdangerous, if not for the way her lips eased into a welcoming smile.

Summer unlatched herself from him, skirting the last fewfeet forward and right into her arms. And then she leaned up and – okay yeah,he didn’t need to watch his admittedly gorgeous friend kissing an equallygorgeous woman. It probably wasn’t good for his health.

Taiyang avoided it by focusing on the second half of the pair,whom was now leaning back against the counter. As he met dusky red eyes, heswore he heard his mind screech to a halt.

For if there was ever a person that perfectly defined bothstrikingly handsome and breathtakingly beautiful, that was Qrow Branwen. It washard to pinpoint exactly what made him so, other than to say all of him. From slicked back, coal-darkhair to the hint of stubble that accented an angled jawline or the too-tightdress shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing just enough to tease, tothe long legs that couldn’t teasetheir flexibility, every bit of him seemed to just be another something to appreciate.He was like a puzzle; the pieces alone didn’t seem like much, but when puttogether the correct way it became a work of art.

Qrow shot him an easygoing smile, tilting his half-fullglass as a greeting wave. “Hey, you must be Tai.”

Dear gods, and a voice that sounded like it was constantlywrecked by sex. That was just notfair.

He swallowed hard against his suddenly dry throat. “Yeah.And you’re Qrow. Hey.” He tacked on lamely. What a night to lose his charisma.

Thankfully, he wasn’t left to flounder long as Raven spokeup, “And I’m Raven. Charmed, really.” Her arms made a loose circle aroundSummer’s waist, tugging her close. “So, now that we’re all acquainted: Drinksor dance floor?”

Knowing there was no way in hell he was getting on the floorwithout being at least semi-drunk, Tai quickly offered, “I vote drinks” just asSummer said, “I want to dance!”

Qrow gestured to his own glass as a sign of his own opinion.

Raven shrugged, slipping off her bar stool. “Guess we’resplitting up then.” She pulled off the leather jacket, tossing it over herbrother’s head. “Be a good coat rack and hold that for me.”

He yanked it off, saying irritably, “Three songs and thenwe’re switching.”

“We’ll see.”

As they bickered, Summer turned to him, the glitter aroundher face only accenting her puppy-dog gaze as she held her girly handbag towardshim. “Please?”

Tai rolled his eyes, hooking his fingers around the strap.“Go have fun.”

“You’re the best!” She beamed, before following after Raven,walking so close they practically melded at the hip.

In the wake of their departure, the appointed coat racktipped his head towards the now empty bar stool, in which the appointed pursehook gratefully took.

Qrow swung himself around, flagging down the bartender as heasked him, “So, what’s your taste?”

It took Tai a moment to realize he meant for alcohol. “Oh,uh, Four Roses, if they have it.”

A whistle. “A bourbon man, huh? Didn’t take ya for thetype.”

“Didn’t used to be. I tried it on a dare. Just ended upliking it.”

“Wonder who that was.” The way he said that implied Qrowknew exactly who had been the instigator. He lent towards him. “Hey, can I dareyou to try another?”

Tai met his gaze, not sure what to make of the almostmischievous grin gracing those pretty features. “Uh, like?”

“What’ll ya have boys?”

Qrow winked at him, before turning to the bartender. “I’lltake another double of scotch, on the rocks. My friend here’ll have some OldCrow, nice and neat.”

Tai could immediately catch the bourbon’s scent the momentit was placed in front of him. It smelled almost sweet, more like a fancymartini, than the bitter, burning whiskey he was imagining. Entirely aware ofthe eyes watching his every movement, he lifted his glass and took the first,brave sip.

And, it was…

Huh.

He lowered the glass, mildly confused. Why did it taste likelightly buttered toast?

Beside him, Qrow had dissolved into laughter, restrained butlively. “It’s weird, right?”

“Not really what I was expecting.” He took another sip,adjusting to the flavor. He’d had better, but for a bottom shelf drink, it wasn’tbad. It had that tame, moderate sort of kick he’d grown to enjoy. “It’s fineenough to drink.”

That mischievous smile was back. “Oh good. Because you’ll bedrinking a lot of crow tonight.”

Tai choked on air. “E-Excuseme?!”

Qrow pounded at the counter, howling with laughter. “Youshould see your face! Man, that was one of my best lines!”

He sighed, setting his glass down with a decisive thud. Evenat only twenty-five, he was too old for this game. “Alright, are you flirtingwith me or messing with me?”

He held his forefinger and thumb a millimeter apart, “Lil’bit of both,” before reaching out for his drink.

Tai watched him drown it, asking, “Why?”

A second thud as another glass hit the counter, ice cubescackling together. “Did you know every time I walked into the room, you justconveniently became the hot topic of conversation?” Qrow finally looked to him,raising an eyebrow. “Summer’s not exactly subtle.”

“Oh Gods.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing theground would just open up underneath him and portal him straight to Hell. “I’msorry. She means well. She’s just got it in her head that I’m lonely.”

“Bet it came with a bunch of ‘You’re not getting anyyounger’ and ‘Love is worth the risk’ speeches, right?”

He groaned. “Yep. Guess the pain’s mutual, huh?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “Honestly, it was more a change of pace.No one has ever felt they needed to play Cupid for me. I mean, of course not.When you look this good, the romance comes to you.” He gestured grandly tohimself, and had Tai not been practically drooling at his feet not ten minutesago, he might have called him out on his ego. Qrow spared him another wink. “Tobe frank, you don’t look like you need it either.”

Oh. Tai felt hisface flame up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

His smile went from coy to relaxed. “To also be frank, I’mnot looking for a commitment and from your response, I don’t think you reallyare either. I am however hoping to have a good time tonightand if I can do that with a sexy guy, all the more reason. So, what say we getdrunk off our asses, make fools of ourselves on the dance floor and call it anight?”

It was amazing just how much that simple suggestion easedthe tension out of him. He grinned back at him. “I say let’s do it.”

“Alright, then. Cheers!”

The clink of their glasses sealed the promise, and as Taichugged his drink, he figured the night might just be looking up after all.

~

It was probably their fourth round on the dance floor and itwas practically sweltering. He could feel sweat clinging to him, head spinningwith a wonderful dizziness. Qrow was a better sight; his hair had fallen into amess at some point, bangs plastered attractively along his forehead, and he’dundone a few more buttons of his shirt, revealing a bit more of those nicelydefined pecs. Watching him move to the beat, Tai couldn’t figure out if thefloor was so hot because of how many people were around him, or if it wassimply because Qrow was on it.

Wait, that was a good one!

He caught his fingers into his dance partner’s belt loops,yanking him in close. He had to lean into his ear, just so he could hear him. “Hey,got something to tell ya!”  

“Yeah?” Qrow slurred back, slinging his arms up around hisneck. The sudden closeness had broken their rhythm, just leaving them to swaytogether.

Tai searched his brain, trying to remember. What was itexactly? Oh, Right!  “You’re pretty.” Henestled himself into his shoulder, hiding his goofy grin against the other’sneck. Fingers ran through his hair, petting him in soothing motions that made hiseyes flutter shut.

So nice.

Qrow was nice.

He liked him.

He wanted to dance with him forever.

“Hey. Listen.” Qrow’s lips touched against his ear, creatinghappy tingles that rushed down his spine. “This song’s for us.”

Tai did his best to focus as commanded, a few of the lyrics driftingaround them becoming startlingly clear.

“What are the chancesthat we’d end up dancing?

Like two in a million,like once in a life.”

The music lifted away, the words becoming inaudible. He liftedhis head, trying to follow their retreat, but his head was heavier then heremembered, and he had to rest it again – this time with his forehead layingagainst Qrow’s own. The magic of them staring into one another’s eyes broughtthe song back.

“Is it love? Is itfate?

Where it leads, whocan say?

Maybe you and I weremeant to be.”

Qrow laced his fingers around the back of Tai’s neck,tilting just enough that their lips brushed together. A second later, he triedagain, kissing him with more earnest.

Whoa, too fast! Toofast! His brain jittered in alarm.

The sweep of a tongue along his lips halted the warningsaltogether.

…Ah, screw it.

Tai tangled his own hands into Qrow’s hair, opening hismouth to him. Their tongues took the place of their feet, dancing together tothe music of their souls. Every breath between them harmonized, every nerve ontheir bodies sang, every beat of their hearts rose up, up, up to the crescendowithout ever needing to fall.

He really wanted to dance with him forever.

It wasn’t meant to be. Qrow broke back first with a gasp,stumbling into him despite the fact they were not moving. “Got to sit. You’regiving me a fever.”

“’Kay.” Tai obliged, tugging him along by his waist as theybumbled about the crowd. It could have been seconds or minutes before they sawthe line of the bar again.

His partner continued to cling to him, head lolling againsthis arm. “Like you. You’re built like a tree.”

The words tumbled out without thought, “Perfect for you toperch on.”

Qrow laughed loudly. He reached out to pat his shoulder,missed, and hit his collarbone instead. “Sunshine, you are so getting mynumber.”

Number of what? Taipondered as the night faded to a blur.

He woke up at home, headache pounding behind his eyes andmuscles aching from the night.

On his phone was a single text from an unknown sender, apossibility in the words:

Call me soon, Sunshine.

~

As Qrow added creamer to the two cups of coffee, the soundof songbirds made him look back towards the kitchen table. His phone had lit upwith a new notification, but that wasn’t his ringtone. He glanced at theobvious culprit. “Did you really?” He asked.

“Whatever do you mean, dear brother?” Raven said, lookingjust a little too smug not to be guilty.

He shook his head, trying to hide his own amusement. Hedidn’t understand how she kept figuring out his password. At least it was tamerthen the death metal she had chosen last time. He stored the creamer back intothe fridge, and as he set her cup down in front of her, said, “You know, if youever decide to use your powers for evil, you’ll be a force to be reckonedwith.”

“I’m shocked and appalled that you don’t already consider meas such.”

“Pff, whatever.” He plopped down beside her, taking a drinkof his own coffee as he reached for his phone, absently wondering if it wouldbe a joke or just a peppy hello today. Qrow didn’t usually like the clingyones, but somehow, it was hard to be annoyed with Tai about it. It was likegetting mad at a puppy.

So used to their routine that had built over the past twomonths, he was caught off guard by his disappointment when he realized it wasKimi instead.

Hey babe ;) Lookingfor a good time tonight?

He hesitated.

For a moment.

And then typed back a reply. Your place or mine?

He dropped the device back to the table, trying to drown theunexpected twisting in his stomach with half a mugful of coffee. Nothing couldsoothe the burn of Raven’s eyes on him though. “What?” He asked tersely.

“Oh, nothing.” She replied, taking a sip from her ownflower-patterned cup. He thought that would be it. “Summer told me somethinginteresting about your new boytoy.”

He really should have known better by now not to hope forthings. “Yeah? What about him?”

“He’s apparently a hopeless romantic.” She gestured betweenthem, the sudden singing birds from his phone accentuating the motion as shemimed a rainbow. “Disney-Level hopeless.”

“So? Tai knows I’m not in it for the long game.”

“Does he now?” Before he could react, Raven’s hand struckout like a viper, snatching up his phone. “Then I guess you won’t mind if I tellhim you’ll be busy hooking-up with someone else tonight.”

“What-” Qrow lurched after it, trying to wrestle it from hergrasp, spewing obscenities all the while, “Fucking – god damn – Raven cut itthe hell out!”

He got a grip on her arm, but as he made a grab for hisphone, she caught his wrist, twisting it back. As he ceded in pain, Raven spokesharply over his whimpers, “If you’re this scared about it, then why do it atall?”

He spit back in her face, “Don’t act like some fucking saintRae. You used to be worse than me.” Another hiss escaped between his teeth whenher nails dug into his skin, but it would take more than that for him to backdown. “I’m not dumb. You don’t care about me. You’re only acting like thisbecause you know if I break his heart, it could mess things up with you andSummer.”

“Well.” Her grip finally relented. “You’re half-right atleast.”

He took the opportunity to yank his phone from her. Wantingnothing more than to get as far away from her as possible, he wrenched himselffrom his seat, intent on sealing himself away in his room for a few hours.

He didn’t even get to the living room before there was ascrap of another chair being shoved back. “Qrow?” She called after him. Thetemptation to ignore her was strong, and he would have, had she not added, “Youwere half-wrong too. I do care about you.”

Qrow stopped, frowning down at the water stains that warpedthe wood floor of their cheap apartment, before finally looking back at her. Itwas odd, seeing Raven look so kind, so soft. When had she changed so much? Ormaybe he was the one who hadn’t changed enough.

“I get it you know.” She stepped towards him. “What ourparents did, it hurt me too.”

He crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze. “At least you didn’tget thrown out twice.”

Raven would sometimes still joke about how, with the waythey grew up, they could have been the poster children for television’s nextbig family drama series. Their parents argued about everything, sometimes gettingso heated they’d scream at the top of their lungs. Once, cops even showed up attheir house, having been called out by a concerned neighbor. He remembered thatnight with more clarity then he liked. What had spurred that argument had beenone about Raven.

It hadn’t been anything major – she had bit another kid atschool and got sent to the principal, who then informed their parents of theincident. Pretty typical stuff, and other than some detention, she wasn’treally in trouble. But at eight, he couldn’t understand that. He thought thepolice were there to take his sister away. They had both been so terrifiedabout losing the one person that made their home bearable, they had jumped outthe window and climbed up the oak tree in the backyard. The deputy only foundthem because they thought cawing like the birds they were named after wouldthrow him off from their hiding spot.

That night was only a precursor to what would come when, atten, their parents finally divorced and split them as if they were just anotherasset, a bunch of knickknacks to be bargained for. Not their own children. Children who begged and cried tobe allowed to stay together. Children who knew being separated would hurt in away they couldn’t bear.

They might as well never have said a word for all thenothing it changed.

Four years they spent apart, until their father decided hewas done with that title and signed away his custody rights, kicking his ownson to the curb like unwanted trash. It should have been a relief, walking backthrough the front door of his childhood home. But it was already too late. Thedamage was done. To him and Raven, they had been taught the meaning of love wasa nightmare and they wanted no part in it.

For Qrow, that meant he spent his time throwing himself intomeaningless flings and short-term relationships that eventually dead-ended.When things started to get too serious, he bolted or self-sabotaged his wayout. Because if his parents had only ever taught him how to fail, how could heever do any better?

The brush of Raven’s hand on his arm brushed away thememories. He fully turned to face her, seeing his reflection in her, but it wascracking in spots. No longer a perfect mirror. No longer the same.

“Look, I’m glad that this commitment thing is working outfor you. Proud of you, even, that you’re getting past it.” Qrow sighed. “But Ican’t. I told myself I was never going to let anyone make me feel rejected likethat again. So, I won’t.”

She shook her head. “You’re hiding behind excuses, Qrow, andyou know it.”

Chirping made them both looked down. A new message hadpopped up above Kimi’s invitation.

G’morning babe! Do you have the night off? Maybe we couldcatch a movie?

Qrow could almost laugh at how simple it would be. How hecould just lie and jump into bed with someone else. To start calling off plans,avoid messages and calls, until Tai got tired of it and walked away from arelationship that would never go anywhere. How easy it was to break someoneelse’s heart and never risk his own.

As if she could see the dilemma running through his head,Raven reached out, blocking out the screen with her hand. “Listen, I’m notgoing to stand here and tell you that if you give it a chance, it’ll all justwork out in the end. When things fall apart, it hurts. But I will tell you for all the bad that could happen, thegood that does is what makes it worth it.” She looked away, lips quirking up ina gentle smile. “You haven’t let yourself fall in love, so you don’t know, butwhen it’s real, you’ll want to fight for it with everything you have.”

Wait. She couldn’t actually mean-?

The realization hit him like a train. When had things gottenthat serious? “You’re… falling in love with Summer, aren’t you?”

That soft look was back. The immovable stone wall he used tosee his sister as was crumbling, the dust of the destruction blowing away inthe happy laugh that escaped her. “I, yeah. I am. I’m not sure where things aregoing to go for us from here, but I am sure I want to see it through with her.And I know how hard it was for me to get this far. Giving her that much ofmyself, it’s scary. I can’t ask you to do the same.” She gave his arm a solidpat. “But if I can’t ask that, then I am going to be selfish and ask you tobreak it off with Tai honestly. For me.”

He shut his eyes, heaving a sigh against the weight that hadsettled on his chest. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

As she walked back into the kitchen, Qrow called after herthis time, “Hey, Rae?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really that good?”

She peered at him over her shoulder, a knowing gleam in hereye. “Let me put it this way: Love and Nirvana work the same way. To find it,first you need to take a leap of faith.”

Those words stuck with him, repeating in his mind as he saton his bed, thumb hovering between the two messages.

“A leap, huh?” He whispered to himself.

He swiped across the screen and typed a reply:

Sorry, can’t tonight. Maybe another time?

Now if only he could be brave enough to jump.

~

Qrow walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his pocketsto hide from the evening wind’s late-night chill. As he approached the frontdoor, the streetlamps combating the overhead lights from the building split hisshadow in two, one forever reaching the direction he could have gone as theother stretched before him.

He followed its guide, pulling open the door and walkinginto the warmth of the cinema. Above the noise of popping popcorn and the vibranttunes of arcade games, he heard a faint call of his name.

“Qrow!” Tai waved as he strode towards him, grinningbrightly.

He was smiling before he even realized he was, meeting Taihalfway. “Hey Sunshine.” He said, wrapping him up in an embrace and kissing himchastely. “Got the tickets?”

“Yep. We’ve still got some time to get snacks too.”

Never one to pass up an opportunity to gorge himself onsodium and cholesterol, they got some popcorn and soda before heading in to thetheater. They bantered over where the best place to sit was – all argumentssuspiciously stopping when Qrow mentioned if they sat in the back, they couldjust make-out if the movie ended up being terrible. They got settled in, mostlyignoring the pre-commercials in favor of each other, Tai telling him about theracer he was getting to build at the machine shop while Qrow made him laugh ashe recounted his run-in at the gun range with a rather stiff-lipped upperclassman whose prosthetic arm just fell off while shooting.

“And so, he turns to me, right? And says ‘Little help’? AndI was so taken aback by what had happened, I didn’t know what to do! So, Isaid: ‘Buddy, there are a lot of hands I can give you. That ain’t one of them.’And then I just walked away like a total jackass!”

Tai held his stomach, saying between his hearty guffaws,“Nooo, you didn’t! That’s terrible!”

“I know.” Qrow ran a hand over his face, embarrassmentmaking his cheeks redden. “It was the worst.”

“Nah, what’s the worst is that you missed the opportunity tomake the best joke of all,” He was grinning hard enough to clear a manure field.“‘Well, that’s one way to disarmyourself.’”

“No! That’sawful!” He cried, throwing popcorn in the blond’s face as they dissolved intolaughter. Qrow was still struggling to get ahold of himself when he felt thesolidity of a strong arm coming around his shoulders, Tai dropping anaffectionate kiss against his temple. That arm stayed there long after thelights had dimmed and the real previews got going. He snuggled back into thecomforting hold, trading off mini-reviews with Tai as each trailer ran throughuntil the last one finally came to an end and the room became completely dark.

As the movie logo started to scroll across the screen, Tailent over, murmuring, “Hey. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Qrow froze, warning sirens going off in his head. Get out! Get out now!

The brush of warm fingers along his cheek silenced themcompletely.

His heart took the chance to skip closer to the edge. Stay, stay, stay, it beat.

Qrow caught Tai’s hand with his own, pressing his lips to hisknuckles. He then turned to him, staring into eyes so deep blue he could easilyfall forever in them, and whispered back in earnest, “Glad you’re here too.”

Tai closed the distance between them. As they kissed, Qrowfound he still wasn’t quite ready to leap the rest of the way.

But he was closer then he’d ever been before.

And maybe, whether it be tomorrow or next year, he wouldn’t justleap.

He’d soar.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

a language that i never knew existed before - Day 14

For @sofondabooks, who asked for a “modern AU where Ben is a frequent customer at the restaurant where Rey works. Little does she know he only goes there because of her”.

Fingers crossed you’re a fan of the Waffle House craze that’s swept this fandom, because the second I saw a restaurant-based prompt I just couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy this, and thank you for the prompt!

Fellow Reylos, ‘tis the season to get a holiday ficlet of your very own. Prompt me here!

25 Days of Reylo Also available on AO3

It takes Ben three days to build up the courage to use her name.

“Thanks, Rey,” he says as the graveyard shift waitress drops off his order, and it might be the single most difficult thing Ben’s done since he left home three weeks ago but fuck if it’s not worth all the self-doubt and clammy palms just to see the way her eyes light up when he addresses her.

“You’re very welcome, PB&C,” she replies with that smile of hers that’s nearly as blinding as the beckoning lights of the Waffle House they’re currently in, the brightest thing for miles and miles in this particular stretch of highway.

He’d caught a scribbled PB&C on her order pad when he first placed his order three nights ago, and yesterday when he’d walked in sometime after three in the morning the line cook had abruptly dropped his conversation with Rey to announce, in a very poor attempt at a whisper, that Mr. PB&C had returned. Ben’s not sure if his order is actually that noteworthy or if he’s the only customer whose name they don’t know, but either way he figures she deserves to know his name now that he’s used hers.

“It’s, um,” he musters the courage to speak up before she can tell him to enjoy his meal and walk off, and the look of pleasant surprise on her face gives him the push needs. “It’s Ben, actually. I’m Ben. Hi.”

Now would be a good time for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. At least he has the self-control to sit on his hands to prevent himself from accompanying that stupid, lame hi with a stupid, lame wave, as if he’s not being weird enough already.

But the judgmental look he’s waiting for never arrives, and instead Rey’s smile somehow grows softer, kinder. “Well then,” she says just as nine bright-eyed, slightly tipsy college kids barrel into the sleepy diner, signaling the end of the three-to-four lull. “Hi, Ben,” Rey tells him with the slightest hint of laughter in her voice even as the raucous group begins to clamber into booths and push tables together with no heed for the terrible screeching sound they’re causing. “I should go deal with that, but… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He shouldn’t still be here tomorrow; hell, he shouldn’t still be here now. But it’s not like he actually has anywhere to be, and this sleepy sorta-town with its Super 8 and its dying strip mall and its welcoming Waffle House is better than driving aimlessly in an old truck that holds too many memories.

So Ben shrugs and tells her, “Yeah, see you then,” and promises himself that tomorrow will be the last day, that he’s not going to let himself get stuck in another dead-end town after all the trouble he went through to leave the last one.

It’s a doomed effort from the start.

“So, what’s your story?” Rey asks him on day twelve, sliding into his booth with a cup of tea and a plate of bacon. She’s allowed one fifteen-minute break every night, and sometime between him giving her his name and asking about her day, Rey decided to start spending it with him. That was four days ago, long enough for him to have realized – and accepted – the fact that he’s beginning to develop a crush for the very first time in his life at the ripe old age of twenty-two.

“Just your typical rich brat who ran away from home when he realized all the money in the world can’t make up for absentee parents,” Ben tells her with a practiced shrug because okay, fine, he’s been rehearsing this conversation in his mind for a while now. It was only a matter of time, of course, with Rey being as friendly as she is, and this is the closest he can get to the truth without revealing the fact that he still spends hours a day in his tiny motel room staring at his mother’s contact information, with one thumb hovering over the call button for what feels like hours on end.

Something tells him Rey figures it out anyway, the fact that the wound is fresher than he lets on. But she just smiles and digs into her food, says, “Ah, one of those,” between bites of crispy bacon with a knowing smile and kind eyes, and Ben thinks maybe he’ll stay a while longer after all.

On day twenty, he finally works up the courage to return the favor. “What’s your story?” he asks as they split a second order of peanut butter and chocolate waffles, the ones Rey used to tease him for ordering until he convinced her to try a bite.

“Oh, you know,” Rey shrugs, and her casualness isn’t nearly as rehearsed as his. “Hippie parents moved to an off-the-grid military base-turned-commune, died of alcohol poisoning, left me in the hands of the junkyard boss hired by the government to clear out the base. Just your typical orphan story.”

“Shit, Rey,” he hisses without thinking, and immediately drops his eyes to the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean– that was rude of me, I’m sorry–”

“S’okay,” she tells him as she steals the last bite; he’s been letting her have it ever since the first time they shared food, anyway. “I mean, it’s a lot to take in. I’d be weirded out if you didn’t have a reaction.” And then, after a beat– “Anyway, I left a year ago, so it’s nothing. Feels like a different lifetime, even.”

The worst part is that he can’t figure out if she’s actually telling the truth. On the one hand, this is bright and sunny Rey who looks like nothing in the world could phase her; on the other, he’s seen a familiar haunted look in her eyes whenever she zones out for a minute. But she was kind enough not to push him when he shared his story, and Ben likes to think he can be kind too – for her, at least.

“A year ago?” he asks, and Rey shoots him a thankful smile as she leans back against the booth. “Have you been here ever since?”

She laughs, and Ben thinks he would happily stay in this odd little highway town for the rest of his life just for that sound. “Oh no, not at all. God, I’d be bored to tears if I stayed that long, I think. No,” Rey says as she begins to stack up their plates and cutlery, her fifteen minutes coming to an end. “I only arrived a week before you showed up, I think. See, when I left Jakku – that’s the base, by the way – I took a truck with me, ancient broken thing I’d been working on for years. The plan was to go where the wind takes me, drive from coast to coast to see what the world has to offer, that kind of thing, you know?”

Oh, he knows.

“But then the old thing broke down, so I’ve been stuck here ever since,” Rey laments with a sigh. “The town mechanic’s really sweet, he said I’m free to use the garage and whatever tools I need for free so long as I pay for the parts, but I’m beginning to worry that it might not be worth the trouble.”

“Why not?” Ben asks as she slides out of the booth and chugs down the last of her tea.

Rey gathers up their plates. “Something new keeps breaking every other day. Unless I can get another truck for cheap, it looks like I’m stuck here for now. I mean, there’s always hitchhiking,” she says, her nose scrunched up at the thought, “but I don’t know how I feel about getting into a stranger’s car–”

The words escape him before he’s even had time to form a plan. “I’m not a stranger.”

She stares at him for a beat, laughs despite the question on her face. “I know, Ben.”

His ears feel like they’re on fire, but the words keep coming anyway. “I mean– it’s not hitchhiking if you’re not strangers, right? It’d be more like… a road trip.”

“A road trip?” Rey echoes dubiously, a rare instance of her smile dimming as her features twist into something more thoughtful.

“Yeah, a road trip. Coast to coast, wherever the wind takes us, right? That’s what I was doing anyway, before I found you–”

And this, this is why he needs to keep his fucking mouth shut because now it’s too late, it’s out there and god, he can’t ever look her in the eye again–

“Ben?” she asks quietly, and with his eyes fixed firmly on the table he can see her shaking hand reaching for him, hesitantly landing on his forearm before she wraps her fingers around him and squeezes. “Ben,” Rey says again, waits for him to look up at her before she goes on. “It’s been three weeks. Why are you still here?”

There are a lot of things he could say: because the waffles are to die for, because I needed a break from driving, because you were laughing when I came in that first night and it made me want to smile for the first time since I made my mother cry–

Only that last one is true, and he can never, ever tell her that.

Or, well… not yet, anyway. Because the way Rey’s looking at him, with a plea in her eyes and her lips slightly parted in anticipation, makes him think that maybe this isn’t the end just yet, maybe there’s more to their story than this Waffle House in the middle of nowhere.

“I…” he takes a blind leap of faith, turns his hand around and laces their fingers together, draws courage from the tiny hint of a smile playing on Rey’s lips as she looks down at their intertwined hands. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

And somehow, those turn out to be the magic words.

. . .

It’s day twenty-seven, seven days since Rey put in her one-week notice out of sheer courtesy. He’s got a gas station map in his glove box, along with a Sharpie for her to chart their course, and Rey’s things sit in the backseat next to his, two lonely duffel bags that somehow look less sad next to each other.

Ben pulls into the empty gravel lot next to their Waffle House one last time, walks in to find Rey waiting for him at the bar with a plate of PB&C.

“To adventure,” she announces with a blinding smile, toasting him with a forkful of waffle.

He laughs, wraps one arm around her waist as he snags the waffle off her fork and muffles her indignant protests with a kiss. “To adventure,” Ben echoes with a smile of his own.

And to home, he can’t help but think as Rey leans in for another syrupy kiss.

This is nearly two thousand words and it's a world away from my original plan, but I'm... kinda okay with the way it turned out - even though Waffle House and the prompt word barely even figure in. Oops.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it, and thanks for stopping by! As usual, please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment if you liked this.

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

I didn't know you read Wild Cards. Can you give us some thoughts on the series?

I actually read Wild Cards long before I read ASOIAF. I’ve talked about it a few times, you can see my tag here. But sure, some thoughts:

Wild Cards got started in the mid-80s when a bunch of SF/F writers in New Mexico got together to play role-playing games. GRRM became the DM for a new game, based on a superhero RPG, and soon all these writers were developing characters and plots and worldbuilding and such. Eventually they realized while they were spending a lot of time working on writing, they weren’t actually making any money… so they decided to actually write up their superhero world as an anthology collection of short stories. This shared-world anthology idea wasn’t invented by them: Thieves’ World had been going (in fantasy) since the late 70s, another series of that type started in 1985, and it was something SF/F agents knew how to sell. Wild Cards also hit the zeitgeist of superhero deconstructionism (Alan Moore’s Watchmen and Frank Miller’s TDKR both came out in 1986), so it was picked up for a three-book contract by Bantam, with the first book (Wild Cards, naturally) published in 1987. GRRM was the editor (and creator/writer of several characters), and they got many other writers to contribute besides the ones in their RPG community, including greats like Roger Zelazny.

The world of Wild Cards is an alternate history where an alien bomb exploded over New York City in 1946, carrying a virus payload. This virus had a certain probability in how it affected people’s DNA, and info from the alien geneticist who’d defected to Earth (trying to stop his colleagues from experimenting on an innocent world) led it to be known as the wild card virus. Of those who were infected by the wild card, 90% died, their bodies wracked with horrible transformations (“drawing the black queen”). Of the survivors, 9 out of 10 lived transformed, usually into monstrous or freakish or just plain ugly creatures (“jokers”). And the rare 1%, the “aces”, still looked human… but gained superpowers. The virus spread across the world over time, infecting countries, changing history… and there are still unknown caches of the virus that can cause an outbreak at any time. Though mostly these days it’s transmitted genetically,  from wild cards who have kids (though many avoid doing so because of the 90% chance of black queen and 9% chance of jokerdom), or more often from latents, people who were infected and their DNA changed but who never had the trauma that would set off their transformation. (Other terms: “nats”, natural humans; “deuces”, aces with a fairly lame power; and there’s also the occasional joker-aces, people who look monstrous but also have some kind of superpower.)

Anyway! Enough backstory. I really do enjoy the series. I first picked it up around, hmm, 1990 I think? when I saw one of the books in the SF/F spinning book racks in the library and the cover drew me in. (I was hugely into X-Men at the time.) The library had all the other books available too, so I took ‘em home and was completely caught. It was adult (rather adult, beware triggers), often super dark with its “superheroes in the real world” themes to the point of lol edgy, some of the covers were ehh (though honestly the 2nd edition Bantam covers were not bad, thankfully I never saw the imho godawful UK covers)… but the worldbuilding, the plots, the characters, the writing… everything was just so very good. I fell in love with such characters as:

GRRM’s Tom Tudbury, “The Great and Powerful Turtle”, an overweight bullied nerd from New Jersey with hugely powerful telekinesis, who flies around in a turtle-shaped shell (originally a VW Beetle with armored plating)

Roger Zelazny’s Croyd Crenson, “The Sleeper”, who was a 14-year-old boy on Wild Card Day, came home from school (witnessing all the horrors) and fell asleep… and awoke weeks later, looking like an adult, with powers. Every time he sleeps, he becomes someone different, sometimes a joker, sometimes an ace… and he’s terrified of drawing the black queen, so after a time he’ll do anything to avoid sleep…

Melinda Snodgrass’s Prince Tisianne, “Dr. Tachyon”, the alien geneticist mentioned above, telepathic, exiled to Earth, serving his penance by trying to cure the virus, and all-time winner of the All-Comers Angst Contest (beating out Scott Summers and Tyrion and just about any manpain or real pain hero you can think of)

Victor Milan’s Mark Meadows, “Captain Trips”, a hippie biochemist who takes drugs and turns into other people for an hour. His “friends” include Jumpin’ Jack Flash, pyrokinetic; Aquarius, were-dolphin; Starshine, sun-powered enviromentalist; Moonchild, martial artist; and other alters that he can’t reach and doesn’t know he doesn’t want to. (One of my teenage marysues was one of Mark’s friends, Lucy, an interdimensional teleporter with kaleidoscope eyes.)

Gail Gerstner-Miller’s “Peregrine”, who has feathered wings and can fly (and is technically a joker because of the transformation, which includes hollow bones, but most people think she’s an ace because she’s beautiful), who became a model/actress and then a late-night talk show host, but sometimes fights with claw-gloves, and may be the mother of the messiah

Stephen Leigh’s “The Oddity”, who used to be three people living in a threesome until one morning they awoke merged into a single monstrous shifting being – he/she/they serve as the protector of Jokertown (a neighborhood in Manhattan that’s pretty much a joker ghetto)

GRRM’s Jay Ackroyd, “Popinjay”, a detective who can point at you and teleport you anywhere he can recall (but his powers aren’t why I love him, he’s just so great... actually I think that applies to all of the above but anyway)

And god, the villains: death’s glare Demise; Mackie Messer, who vibrates to phase through walls and tear people apart; the Puppetmaster, manipulative empath and US presidential candidate; Ti Malice, who possesses his “mounts” and makes them do whatever he wants for his pleasure; the Astronomer, cult leader; the Jumpers, a gang of youths who can leap into people’s bodies; Blaise, Dr. Tachyon’s grandson, mind-controlling sociopath… and so many more heroes and villains and regular people trying to do their best despite what the virus has done to them (or even nats, doing the same), I can’t remember but they’re all so good…

But after jumping between publishers, the series pretty much ended in 1995, with the 15th book. (Some weren’t anthologies, some were “mosaic novels” edited into one coherent story, and a few were solo authored.) There was a book in 2002 and another in 2006 (that I haven’t read) when they got a new publisher, but that didn’t work out. But then in 2008, Wild Cards got picked up by Tor, and began a brand new series (with gorgeous covers by Michael Komarck, who’s gone on to do covers for reprints of the original series), with Inside Straight, introducing new aces and jokers in a world of reality shows and social media. I somehow did not manage to pick up any of the new series until recently (I don’t know why, I think maybe some of the very dark and depressing later books burned me out a bit and I was wary?), but my gosh, it’s so fun.

I love GRRM’s Lohengrin (a German nerd who armors himself in light as a modern-day knight), Melinda Snodgrass’s sex-shifting teleporting spy, Stephen Leigh’s Drummer Boy (a six-armed joker-ace who’s used the drums on his chest to become a rock superstar), Caroline Spector’s Bubbles (transforms kinetic energy into body fat, and then fat into kinetic bubbles that can look pretty or hit very hard), and so many more. I really need to get the rest of the new series– I’ve been spoiled for it a bit because I read the Wild Cards short stories Tor has on their site, and I recently read Lowball, the 22nd book that came out in 2015 (and holy shit that ending), but books are expensive and I’ve been reading other things. Still, I need to fill in the gaps and I need to know what happens next, I should be getting the rest of the series. If this sounds interesting to you, you should too. :)

If you have any other questions, just let me know!

[ghost-avalyn]

After many hours of deliberation I came up with some answers to a questionnaire for Denver. <3 Questions can be found here! Some of the answers have dialogue, some have no dialogue, some are both.

Answers and stuff under the cut.

1.) What is your guardian’s name? What does it mean? What inspired you to choose that name for them?

Denver. No real reason, thought it was cute and when a name strikes me I usually stick with it because I'm chronically bad at naming.

2.) What did your guardian name their ghost? What does it mean? What inspired them to choose that name?

Her name is Avalyn. It means “beautiful breath of life”. The name is fairly self-explanatory. Mostly, he calls her Av.

“Heh, funny story. I was rezzed in a bookstore... I can't read. Av deciphers things for me, so it's not really worth it to learn. Anyways. I asked her what I could call her before I even figured out my own name. She took my request seriously and I helped her by turning the pages of some old-ass books. She found the name Avalyn. She seemed to like it, and she deserves a name she likes. So we kept it.”

3.) What is your guardians favorite weapon of choice? What mod do they use for it? Do they have a masterwork on it and if so, how many enemies have they killed with that weapon?

“Crimson looks pretty sweet with the gold studs. But I don't care about guns too much. Next question.”

4.) Do they participate in the Crucible often or do they just go to complete the daily challenges?

He likes participating in the Crucible to be immersed in the energy of battle and to screw around. He can't bring himself to care much about actually competing. He has an exposition kink so he's all about showing off his flips 'n shit.

“There are challenges? Man, that's news. I like showing off my flips, running around the maps, fucking around with the guardians. They're fun. They take things so seriously.”

5.) If your guardian had to choose to be another class, what class would they pick? Or would they stay the same?

He'd probably stay the same. The idea of being a big strong titan might appeal to him briefly, but only if his size were to change and I don't think it works that way.

“Oh! Would I get taller if I became a Titan? Unless it'd make me a bigger, beefier version of myself, no dice. I'd make a pretty lame Warlock, too.”

6.) What is their favorite subclass within their own class?

He's an Arcstrider, he knows no other life. Arc energy flows naturally for him, as if it chose him. The body movement with Arc Staff suits his innate connection to his center of gravity.  

“Arcstrider for sure. If I was smarter, maybe I could figure out how to use different energy. Maybe I'm just lazy, I don't know. I needed Arc energy more than the others and it kinda came to me naturally. I'm not the Avatar over here.”

7.) What is their favorite subclass in a different class?

I wanted to go with something other than Striker, but, he has a strong affinity for Arc and can't help but admire the amount of force and energy that super utilizes.

“Strikers are sexy.”

8.) Would they rather receive a titan kiss ( a hard ass headbutt that mostly results in death ), asking a warlock a question that might result in a long explanation, or deciding to play the knife game with hunter and bet at high stakes?

“That's a tough one. But uh, probably go with the knife-game, it sounds fun.”

9.) Would they prank other guardians or just their close friends? What kind of pranks would they pull?

He'd be fairly cordial with any guardian that hadn't already pranked him in some way – that would be the green light. Except Dutch, he will forever be [attempting to] push him off ledges to get a rise out of that exo.

“I won't mess with a guardian I don't know. Unless, you know, they prank me first. But then we officially know each other, and it's fair game. With Dutch, I'm always trying to pull a fast one on him and somehow the fucker is always one step ahead of me. Do Exos have literal eyes on the back of their heads?”

10.) Which vanguard member to they like to hang out with the most?

He likes chilling with Cayde. He wants to learn more about Exos, and even if Cayde doesn't offer much in the way of knowledge, it's a nice breather to visit him every once in a while as he's a total opposite to Dutch personality-wise.

“Cayde is my bro. The other Vanguard members seem kinda... high strung for me. They don't like me very much anyways. Cayde doesn't mind when I show up unannounced, he's always up for company, and sometimes I need a break from Dutch's seriousness.”

11.) Who would they fmk out of Skolas, Ghaul, and Calus?

“I'd fuck the Fallen guy, marry the rich guy, and kill the asshole. Is there any other way to answer this question?”

12.) What kind of hobbies do they do in their free time? Are there any particular skills they have that help them with this hobby(s)?

“People watching, clubbing, dancing... Just hanging out.”

13.) What is their favorite armor set and what shader do they use for it?

Kairos armor set with Shinobu's vow, and Omolon Meteor Gloss.

14.) Do they prefer silence or are they unbothered in loud areas?

Denver is not a fan of silence. He didn't really think much about this until he started his life at The Tower and felt quite at home with the relative amount of chaos.

“I like loud areas with a lot of different things to pay attention to. Silence is boring.”

15.) Are they afraid of storms? If so, is there a specific reason why?

Nope, he loves them. The white noise calms him, the thunder claps excite him, and he absorbs arc energy considerably better in this kind of weather.

“Stormy weather is my favorite. I've been struck by lightning a few times. I'm pretty sure that's what happened. I was able to run off that energy and power my town for days without stopping.”

16.) Who were they before their ghost revived them? Do they know about this and if so how or what did they use to learn about themselves?

Denver grew up with his mother in a group of ten or so refugees far from any new-age civilization. They stuck together in a small pack, doing a lot of foraging to meet their basic needs. The group didn't get involved in war/political affairs and mainly kept to themselves.

“I dunno, but I don't think about the past much even when it's something I do remember.”

17.) How close are your guardian and their ghost? If they are not close, would your guardian kill their ghost and choose to answer the darkness’ calls?

They are best friends, partners in [sorta] crime. Avalyn calls Denver out on any of his bullshit but follows him loyally wherever they go.

“I love Av. We do everything together. She helps me out so much, and she makes a lot of good points about life-stuff.”

18.) Would your guardian engage in a romantic relationship with Fallen, Cabal, Hive, etc? If so, what do they find attractive about the species?

I don't know that he's ever considered it.

“Hm, Fallen are pretty good-looking. But romance? There's a bit of a language barrier there.”

19.) Who is their favorite lore hero? Example, Jolder, Saint-14, Andal Brask, etc. Why is this person their favorite and in what ways do they inspire your guardian? What would your guardian say if they were face to face with them?

He's heard some stories about Andal through his relationship with Cayde-6, he admires the strength of their friendship and wishes he was able to know the guy in person.

20.) Does your guardian like plants? If so, what kinds? Do they prefer flowers or trees or shrubs? Would they start a garden?

“Trees are nice, I guess. Especially those huge ones on Nessus.”

21.) If your guardian became obsessed with something, what would it be?

“Why do the exos get reset??? Does it shift them farther away from who they really are, is it convenient, and if it is convenient, to who?”

22.) Do they like reading books or watching movies or both? What genres are their favorites? Does their fireteam have the same taste?

Denver prefers watching movies because it can be a co-op experience. He can absorb the information with someone else and bounce it off of them, figuring out how his experience aligns with others'.

“Movies are cool with friends. I don't read. If I really wanted to, I could have Av help me read something, but I dunno. I'd rather have a conversation with someone who knows what they're talking about.”

23.) What kind of music do they like? Do they dance around anybody in any situation or in the privacy of their quarters? What would their favorite song from the Golden Age be?

He prefers future bass like “Exhale Therapy” by Conrank, or psychedelic pop, see “Feel it Still” by Portugal. The Man. But anything with a good beat is accepted.

“Hell yeah! I'll dance anywhere, everywhere, for anyone who's willing to watch. ;)”

24.) What does their living space look like? Are there a bunch of pictures around or do Knick knacks cover the shelves? Do they enjoy bright, neutral, or dark colors? Would they purchase a fur rug?

“My living space? Oh right. I have a bunk, but I don't spend much time there. Dutch's house is way nicer.”

IMO Denver lives in a shared living quarters with several other lower-ranked Guardians. He spends many more nights with Dutch-9 in his swank-ass modern-looking house, or Cayde's living quarters. He doesn't settle in one particular area, he can even be found couch surfing in the city. As far as personal belongings such as clothing, he does fancy bright, obnoxious coloring and is sometimes known to collect knick-knacks to adorn Avalyn's shell [with her approval] or just to collect dust in his bag/vault.

25.) Do they travel around the city often? If so, what are their favorite places to go and who do they go with? Are the civilians ever excited to see them or do they give them a look because of precious mishaps that resulted in property damage?

He does travel the city often. He likes anything that can be done in tandem with other people. Rather than dragging friends along, he tends to insert himself into groups easily, usually at bars/clubs, making tons of acquaintances and not many close friends. He likes to feel like he “knows people” and makes conversation with the owners of the buildings, yearning for a sense of belonging. Since his found-family from the refugee town was taken in by the city, he also visits them often to check on how city life is treating them and helps them out any way he can. He definitely has done some damage to local venues but does everything in his power to make it right when that happens.

26.) Are they good with kids? If not, how do they react when a child tries to talk to them? If they are good with kids, what kind of things do they do to entertain them?

“Kids are awesome. They're just... authentic, you know? I want to hear about their perspective on things. But I'll show them Arc-staff tricks if they're not into telling me their ideas about the world.”

27.) Are they in love with Shaxx?

“He's a great hype-man. I dig his enthusiasm. In love? Nah, but I have a normal amount of love for him.”

28.) When your guardian sleeps, are they stiff and stay in one spot or wild and kick off the sheets? Do they have nightmares often and if so, about what? How often do they sleep?

He's a bed hog, sprawling out his limbs and tossing and turning frequently. Sometimes known to react violently to being prodded if his partner wants to grab some of the blanket.

“Yeah, I've been told I'm a restless sleeper. I disagree, I'm a heavy sleeper. But... I guess I do take up more than my side of the bed. I love sleeping. Can I add that to my hobbies?”

29.) Do they enjoy coffee, tea, soda, or water? Would they mix all of these together and drink the liquid on a dare?

“Leaf water and mud water is nasty. I'll drink soda all day, but Av reminds it's not great for my stomach. Oh, a dare? Definitely.”

30.) What about their personality attracts other guardians to them? What is it about other guardians that attracts your guardian to them?

“My personality? I'm mostly nice, so maybe that's why I have an easy time making friends. And other guardians... Well, everyone has a story. I like to find out their side of things. See what makes them tick. It works out well, because everyone loves talking about themselves... Almost.”

[redgillan]

Breaking the Rules - part 6

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,395

Warnings: the usual 

A/N: I’m sure how I feel about this, but anyway... Spot the B99 quote ;)

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

“What the hell are you wearing?” Bucky burst out laughing when he saw you.

You had followed his mother and sisters to the wedding venue so you hadn’t seen him since you had left that morning. Becca’s prom dress fitted you just right, but it wasn’t the most appropriate outfit for a wedding.

It was a shimmering purple dress with lots of frills.

“You look like a sparkling plum,” he said, doubling over in laughter.

“Fuck off!”

He finally controlled his laughter enough to speak. “I saved you a seat next to Peggy. The wedding’s about to start.”

“Where’s Dot?”

“No idea.”

Bucky turned back to the door when his mother hissed his name. He excused himself and walked back to the flower girl. He squatted down to talk to the little girl who was staring off into space. Her hands were shaking hard as she held onto the little basket.  

He took a fistful of petals and let them trickle through his fingers. She giggled happily and gave him a big hug. You met Bucky’s eyes before you reluctantly let the usher direct you to your seat.

You greeted Steve and Peggy as you sat down. The musicians were tuning their instruments and you took a moment to look at your surroundings.

Dot was sitting on the groom’s side since her fiancé was one of Henry’s best man. She was in the seat closest to the aisle. She kept her eyes on you as the quartet started playing the famous Pachelbel Canon.

Her fiancé slowly walked arm in arm with Lizzie up the aisle toward Henry. Bucky and Mary followed them and as he walked past Dot, she brushed her hand against his. Your hands balled into fists at your sides.

The ceremony was long and, quite frankly, pretty boring. You were mulling over the events of the last couple of days with a scowl on your face. The night before, Bucky had taught you a bit of sign language, mostly bad words and insults. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t flirted a bit with him.

His smile made your stomach do flip-flops. It was very confusing because you were not ready to admit –even to yourself- that the man you hated more than anything made your heart beat faster.

His sister was saying her vows when your eyes met his. He frowned at you, silently asking why you looked so gloomy.

You gave him a little shrug. You nodded towards Dot, then you made a b-handshape and placed the tip of your fingers on your chin. ‘Dot’s a bitch.’ Bucky chuckled quietly, trying not to attract attention.

You spent the rest of the ceremony signing the dirty words he had taught you. Bucky tried to discreetly reply to you, but it was difficult since he was facing the entire crowd.

He pointed toward you, then closed his hand while moving it in a circle in front of his face. You frowned, not knowing what it meant. He smiled at you and clapped along with the rest of the guests as Henry kissed Rebecca.

You walked up to him after the ceremony. “What does that mean?” you asked, mimicking the gesture.

“You’re beautiful,” he answered, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

You blinked at him, at a loss for words, and he smiled tenderly. He took your hand and led you away from the crowd. Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape his mother, she had eyes everywhere.

Winnie wanted to get pictures of the two of you with the rest of the family. You tried to reason with Bucky. You were his fake girlfriend and wedding pictures are a big deal, but he only squeezed your hand tighter.

An hour later you finally sat down at your assigned table. Bucky introduced you to everybody at the table.

“You already know Steve and Peggy,” he said, then turned to a woman with long dark hair and a man with bleached-blond hair. “And these two troublemakers are Pietro and Wanda Maximoff.”

“I used to babysit them,” Steve said, a smile on his lips. “You guys are adults now, it makes me feel old.”

Peggy chuckled as she rubbed small circles over her tiny baby bump. “It’s good to know you have experience with kids, darling.”

You all laughed with her, Steve playfully rolled his eyes before he started a conversation with Pietro.

Bucky looked at the small crowd near the buffet table and his eyes widened for a second before a large smile spread across his lips. He quickly excused himself and crossed the room to kneel beside the flower girl.

He raised his hand above his head and gave her a high five. He spoke to her, probably telling her that she had done a great job during the ceremony. You watched him put a hand on his chest, somewhat dramatically, as the little girl twirled in place to show off her pretty dress.

You chuckled to yourself, unable to tear your eyes away from him. A good-looking twentysomething ran towards the little girl, she had panic written all over her face. She scolded the little girl who quickly rushed back to the kids’ table.

Bucky got to his feet and smiled at the twentysomething before he nodded toward the far corner of the room. She followed him. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, one you remembered all too well.

Jealousy.

You tried to push the feeling away, knowing it would only cause you pain. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t even your friend. He was just Natasha’s annoying neighbour.

You suddenly stood up from your chair, startling Wanda and Peggy, and headed to the buffet table. When Bucky joined you, you were aggressively scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto your plate.

He stood too close for your liking so you shifted a bit further away from him. He glanced sideway at you and frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” Your voice sounded harsher than you had intended.

“Okay, you’re a bad liar,” he chuckled awkwardly. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

With a loud sigh, you threw the spoon back into the bowl and turned to face him. “You know what? We’re supposed to be a couple, but as soon as you have the opportunity to hit on a girl, you-”

“Wow, wait, what?” he interrupted you.

“I saw you with that girl!”

He stared at you for a second before he started laughing quietly. You put your plate down and crossed your arms over your chest. The fact that he was laughing at you infuriated you even more.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, still laughing. “That girl was hired to watch the kids. She’s my sister’s girlfriend, I found out yesterday and my parents don’t know Lizzie is dating a girl. I wanted to make sure she was right for my little sister. Just like I would have done if she’d been dating a guy.”

“Oh,” you replied lamely, uncrossing your arms.

“Are you jealous?” He leaned closer, taunting you.

“No!” you gasped.

“I think you are.”

Bucky hesitated a bit before he cupped the side of your face and let his thumb brush your jaw. Your body betrayed you and leaned into his touch. Then, your eyes snapped open and you quickly pulled away from him.

“I have to go.”

You bolted out of the room before he could say anything. He called out your name, but you kept walking.

Once you were finally outside, you breathed out a sigh of relief. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your bare arms and legs. 

Men like him were dangerous and you couldn’t let him hurt you. They’re like incubi. They seduce their prey, suck the life out of them and leave... although today they are better known as fuckboys.

You put your back against the wall, slid down and sat in an attempt to calm yourself.

Pulling your phone out of your bra, you decided against calling Natasha and looked through your contacts until you found Maria’s number. She picked up after the second ring.

“Tell me I’m crazy,” you blurted out without even saying hello. “I need someone to yell at me.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Through the phone, you heard a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a door closing. You had her undivided attention.

“Oh, right!” she said as she remembered your previous conversation. “You’re with that guy, the one you don’t like.”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, trying to find your words. “You’re a no-bullshit kind of person, right? So tell me I can’t develop feelings for someone I don’t like. Tell me that three days can’t change everything.”

You waited, but she didn’t say anything. After a moment, she let out a forceful sigh. “I can’t tell you that. You have feelings for someone, it’s not crazy. It’s completely normal.”

“I don’t have feelings for Bucky,” you gasped, annoyed. “He’s annoying and... moody... and-”

“You like him,” Maria interrupted. “I saw it the moment he walked into the restaurant. It was like I wasn’t even there anymore.”

“No,” you shouted. “It’s not one of those ‘I’ve always loved you and now I’m seeing you’ moments.”

“Okay, but maybe it’s a ‘I didn’t particularly like you and now I think you’re not that bad’ moment.”

She gave you some time to think it over. You worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. She was right.

“Yeah, he’s not that bad,” you admitted.

“Halleluiah,” Maria exclaimed, making you chuckle. “You don’t have to jump into a relationship. You can just have a little fun, but you have to talk to him.”

“You make it sound like he has feelings for me.”

“Oh, sillyhead,” she laughed softly. “Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails on playgrounds?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Because they like the girls and that’s the only way they know how to get their attention.”

After she ended the call, you decided to head back inside and find Bucky. It took a lot of strength to push yourself off the ground and open the door. You didn’t have a whole speech prepared, you just hoped for the best.

You heard Bucky say your name and you turned toward the sound. He walked down the hallway toward you and you suddenly realized you had absolutely no idea what to say to him. He stopped an arm's length away.

“I thought you were gone.”

“Where would I go?” you replied.

“My parents’ house.”

“Alone and in the middle of the night?” you scoffed.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You keep pushing me away.”

He tried to look casual, but he remembered the look in your eyes when he had cupped your face. You had leaned into his touch, sought his warmth, even if for just one second, but then your eyes sprang open in alarm and he mistook your fear for disgust.

It hurt more than he was willing to admit. Seeing you run away from him was the final blow.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention,” he said, looking you in the eye. “I was trying to be... funny, I guess. I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Laugh?” you repeated, frowning and cocking your head to one side.

He groaned and raked a hand through his hair, messing it up before the silky strands obediently fell back into place. He opened his mouth and closed it, as if he couldn’t find the right words.

“Every time you laugh,” he started to explain while gesturing furiously. “I have this warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and it spreads through my whole body and it feels so good.”

“Don’t do that,” you whispered.

You closed your eyes and focused on slowing your heartbeat. And then he understood, it wasn’t disgust he saw in your eyes. It was fear.

“No, don’t shut yourself off. Not with me,” he warned, taking a step forward. “I know you felt it -that spark between us.”

“What do you want from me?” you cut him off.

“I want...” Bucky looked around frantically, trying to express feelings he had never felt before.

He wanted to talk for hours in bed on lazy Sunday mornings. He wanted to hold your hand as you both walked through Central Park at night.

He wanted to tease you, say stupid things and make you laugh. He wanted to wrap his body around yours, to feel you against him, to keep you safe and happy.

“-you,” he answered simply. “I want you.”

You closed the distance between you and brought his lips down to yours. Initiating the kiss enabled you to control everything. You abandoned yourself completely and kissed him hard.

He stumbled slightly and backed you up against the wall, one hand against it for support. Yet, he made no move to take control of the kiss and, instead, let you savour him.

The thought of someone catching sight of you made you dizzy with desire and Bucky’s free arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up. You pulled back slightly and began trailing open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, then his neck.

“Yes, keep going,” he moaned. “Right there!”

He arched into you when you found that sweet spot just behind his ear and laved it with your tongue. You bit, sucked and licked his tender flesh, satisfying an animalistic need to mark him, to let everyone know that he belonged to you.

When you pulled back, your eyes widened slightly. An angry red mark stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. Bucky shivered when you traced it with the tip of your forefinger.

He took a step back, a dopey look in his eyes as he stared into nothing. His tie was loose and his shirt was almost completely untucked. He tried to say something, but his brain was too fuzzy to figure out how to speak.

Instead, he touched his lips; they were still warm and tingly.

You couldn’t handle these sudden feelings, so the irrational part of your brain took over. You had to get away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

You ducked your head in shame and rushed back into the main room, leaving Bucky confused and dazzled in the middle of the hallway.

Part 7

[onlyonewoman]

Girls (or: the battle of skirts and potatos)

Another lowbones ficlet from the modern AU Aces of Spades and Hearts/Down Foreverdark Woods Trail series with Billy and Ned as an asexual married couple, set around eighteen years later, when Billy’s and Ned’s adoptive daughter Roisin is in her late teens, starting with... potatos. ***                   ”Honestly, I’m not so into this.” ”Why? ’Cause they’re Americans? You’re such a snob.” ”Watch it. I have more reasons to hate the English than Americans.” Ned finished peeling the last potato and put the pot on the stow. Billy pouted and did his best puppy eyes. ”I’m so sorry for the way my country treated you, Mr. Manderly-Low. Please, accept my peace offering.” He picked up a bag of potatos from the shopping bag and in the next second, he was running for his life, laughing, with a trail of earthy potatos and a one-eyed Irishman after him. ”Hey, hey! Stop it, Ned!” ”Ye’re such a bag of dicks!” ”That’s our food you’re throwing!” ”Aye. Enjoying it?” Billy jumped into the living room and fetched his armed husband from the doorway, locking him in a tight hug. ”Surrender!” ”Never!” ”What the hell are you guys doing?” The two combattants turned around to their sixteen-year-old, standing with raised eyebrows and crossed arms in the hallway. Billy quickly let go of his husband and cleared his throat. ”Uhm… hi, pumpkin. How was football practise?” ”Good. Why are you running around with potatos?” ”Oh, you know your da… Loves potatos. Ouch!” Ned elbowed Billy and Roisin rolled her eyes. ”You’re so lame! It’s gonna be so embarressing when Lucy’s parents come over.” Ned rose his hands. ”I swear: no potato throwing, no Ireland vs. England jokes and no black metal. And no football.” Roisin kicked one of the potatos through the kitchen door. ”Actually, please talk about football, then at least her dad will be happy.” ”And her maw?” ”Sorry, da. No theatre or books. She’s a broker and leads aerobic classes.” ”Oh, for fucks sake…” Ned shook his head and Billy choked a laughter as he turned the heat down on the stove. ”Don’t worry, Rose, we’ll behave. Promise. Right, Ned?” ”I’ll behave. They’re not Christians, I hope?” ”Protestant fundamentalists. I think their ancestors fought against the Catholics on Ireland. They have necklaces made from the teeth of Irish babies. Really Catholic babies.” Roisin grinned and Ned patted her cheek. ”Very funny, pumpkin. Now go get yer clothes in the laundry before they mold. Dinner’s ready in ten.” ”What’s more than thrown potatos?” ”Plaice and carrots.” ”Thrown?” ”Laundry. Now.” ”Yes, da. Oh, can I go see Lucy after dinner?” Ned gave her a curious look. ”Didn’t ye just see her at school?” ”So? I can’t see my friends now?” Ned rolled his eyes. ”Just kidding, pumpking. As long as ye’re home by ten. School night, ye know.” Roisín gave her da a quick hug. ”Thanks, da!” Their daughter disappeared from the kitchen and Ned started with the carrots and seasoned the fish, still smiling to himself, shaking his head. Billy opened the door to let Gwin out in the garden and then he fetched his husband’s cardigan, draping it over him by the sink. Ned snorted. ”Didn’t even ask for it.” ”Lift your feet.” Wollen socks and Ned wanted to say he didn’t need them, but the autumn air was chilly and the door open for Gwin. Sometimes Ned thought his husband knew him far too well. Billy wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his hair. ”You know, you’re so alike, you and Rose, I almost get jealous sometimes.” ”Come on, Billy… She fucking adores ye.” ”You think we should, you know, encourage her to be more… girly?” ”What?” Billy shrugged. ”Well, you know… Wear skirts and stuff, buy make-up…” ”Sweetheart, I hate to break this to ye, but yer daughter’s sixteen and if she by some mysterious reason doesn’t know what to wear, she wont ask us. She’ll ask…” ”John. I know, I know, it’s just that…” ”What? Ye want her to wear more pink so she’ll remember she’s a beaur?” ”Alright, I’m silly.” ”Aye, ye are. What are ye really worrying ’bout, muppet?” ”Uhm…” The sound of Roisin coming down from her room had Billy give Ned a quick kiss on the ear. ”We’ll talk later, hon.” To be honest, Billy wasn’t very keen on having a second dinner date with Roisin’s friends parents either. Not because they were American, but because Ned wasn’t very comfortable with new people. But since their daughters were hanging out regularly and Lucy’s mother had insisted on a dinner and it would’ve been rude not to make an invitation in return, Billy and Ned now had a dinner for eight planned this Saturday, including four parents and four kids. Ned was already on the brink of a migraine and Billy simply counted the days in silence. Ned gave Gwin and Betsy their food and put the dinner on the table while Billy lit some candles. The old kitchen with creaking planks, blue checkered curtains and plants Betsy always tried to chew on gave Ned a calm sense of happiness inside. He felt safe, lucky, just being in his own home with his husband and daughter, his dog and cat. And for being such a ”lame” da, Roisín certainly had a lot to talk to him about. His teenage daughter still had her moments of thinking both her parents were complete idiots, but mostly she talked worse than John, meaning she actually liked her stupid dads. Just like Ned, she wore a metal t-shirt – Cannibal Corpse – and she used Billy’s old Liverpool scarf to school. If that was being lame parents, Ned didn’t really mind. ”Da?” ”Yeah, sweetheart?” ”I need new trousers.” ”Uh-huh. Ye have yer allowance.” ”But these are on sale now… Just this weekend.” Roisín had her pleading eyes and Ned looked at Billy, who put his fork down. ”You have more trousers than me and your da combined, darling. How about a nice skirt?” ”Skirt? Really daddy?” ”Yeah, why not? You’re a sweet girl and you’d look cute in a skirt.” ”Oh, lord…” Ned groaned and shut his eyes, as his husband and daughter began one of their endless discussions about clothes. ”Would you rather have me dressed like a slut?” ”Hey, we don’t use that word unless we’re talking about actual people who’re self-confirmed sluts, like John and you know that, young lady.” ”Whatever! Da, say something!” ”Nah-uh, ye’re not pulling me into this, sweetie. I don’t care what ye’re wearing as long as ye’re dressing properly according to weather. Unless ye decide to wear fucking nazi stuff or I don’t know... heels that might give ye sprained ankles. Then and only then I’ll be worried.” Billy sighed. ”Thanks for the support, Ned.” ”I’m not gonna waste any time trying to convince her to buy some damn skirt she wont use.” ”Thank you, da.” ”But ye have a stuffed wardrobe and what’s so special about these trousers? What colour?” ”Uhm… black.” ”Sweetheart, ye have at least four pair of black trousers.” ”Three.” ”Four. I found yer supposed lost ones behind the laundry basket this morning.” ”Oh…” ”So how about ye wash’em before buying anymore clothes ye don’t need – with or without legs.” ”Uhm… Yeah, I can… have a look at them.” ”That sounds really good, pumpkin. More fish?” *** They’d been married for more than twenty years and Ned’s hair had stains of grey in it, Billy’s wrinkles around the eyes had become more significant and they were still in love. When they’d finished their dinner and Roisìn had left to see Lucy, they took Gwin out for a walk before landing by the fire, a movie on Ned’s laptop and some beer to have a nice evening to themselves. Gwin and Betsy joined them soon. Billy cardened his fingers through his husband’s hair and Ned took a sip of his beer. ”What were ye worrying ’bout, muppet?” ”Nothing, really. Guess I just want her to be my little girl a while longer…” ”Oh, hon… She’ll always be our little girl. She just doesn’t like skirts.” ”Can’t understand why.” ”And I can’t understand why ye’re so obsessed with her wearing’em, Billy. Can ye explain that to me, ’cause I really don’t get this.” ”It’s just… they look pretty on her.” ”And? Ye think she looks bad in trousers, or what?” ”No, of course not. I don’t know, Ned, I just… Damnit, she’s so independent. I don’t know what she needs me for any longer…” ”Whoa, whoa… Stop it right there. How many daddies do ye know who get to take their sixteen year old daughter to games in matching sweaters? Teenage daughters asking for concert tickets to music their da’s like? She’s still practising football in our garden with you before a game, Billy. What more do ye ask?” ”That she’d put on a skirt every once in a while? Is that too much to ask?” ”Aye, it is. Stop pouting and bring me another beer.” ”She has tons of trousers and…” ”Billy…” ”What?” ”Do ye love me?” ”I… Of course I love you.” ”Then stop talking about clothes and bring me another beer. Ye know all we have to do is to make John suggest her to wear something and she’ll consider it. Christ…” Billy fetched a couple of beers and pouted. Ned planted a quick kiss on his mouth grabbed a bottle, let Gwin climb up in the couch and looked at the watch. ”You want me to drive her home tonight?” ”No, I’ll do it.” ”Sure? Ye’re not tired?” ”Not really. And I should talk to Lucy’s mom.” ”Oh, honey… She wont be there.” ”Why wouldn’t… Oh… Right. Teens. You think they’re having boys over?” Ned laughed so hard he spilled some beer on poor Gwin, who looked highly offended. ”Oh, God… this is… Sweetheart…” ”What?” Billy looked completely clueless and Ned bursted from laughter, shaking his head. ”This is priceless, fucks sake, Billy…” Billy pouted. ”Yeah, go on and laugh at your apparently stupid husband, by all means…” ”Sorry, hon, but… When was the last time ye heard Roisín talk about bucks?” ”What do you mean?” ”Sweetheart, she’s having a big poster of Kim Stolz on her bedroom wall.” ”Who the hell’s that?” ”If I say Glee and The L Word, Tipping the Velvet and Casey fucking Stoney, does it ring any bell?” ”Casey Stoney? The football player?” ”With a wife.” ”With a... Oh… Wait what? You mean…?” ”Our daughter is probably a lesbian. Congratulations, hon. The risk of being an early grandfather is significantly decreased and the reason she’s worried about how lame we will be, is because she doesn’t want to look stupid in front of her beour.” ”My daughter’s a lesbian…?” ”Don’t tell me ye’re upset, ’cause that’s just hypocritical.” ”Upset?” Billy grinned and left the couch, leaving Ned to exchange exasperated looks with Gwin and Betsy and then came back with a small tray with two fine glasses and a bottle of really fancy wine. Ned groaned but Billy just kept smiling wide like he’d won the lottery and poured two glasses, handing one of them to his eye-rolling husband. ”Upset? I’m fucking overjoyed! To lesbian daughters!” ”And their gay fathers… I guess. Cheers, muppet.” ”We did a pretty good job, didn’t we?” ”Speaking as if we were done…Ye know John will be so upset.” “Why?” “Because for once, his famous gaydar isn’t working.” “You mean I’m not actually the last to know?” “No, ye’re not.” Billy’s grin turned almost malicious and he kissed his eye-rolling husband. “I love you.” “I love ye too. And we’re missing half of the movie, so shut up, muppet.” THE END      

[thisaintascenereviews]

Album Review by Bradley Christensen Calvin Harris – Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 Record Label: Columbia Release Date: June 30 2017

EDM music, which stands for “electronic dance music,” is not a style of music I’ve enjoyed one bit. I don’t like it, and I don’t listen to it, but I don’t have any issues with it as a style of music. I have issues with it, personally speaking, but if people like it, who am I to stop them? I don’t like it, though. EDM is always light on lyrics, even though I’m not super into lyrics anymore (I mean, great lyrics are great lyrics, but a song doesn’t need lyrics to be great), and the music itself lacks any real bite, emotion, or uniqueness for me to give a crap about it. One artist at the center of the EDM explosion (there was a couple of years where EDM was poised to become the main style of music that people wanted, but that’s since waned) is Calvin Harris. His last big hit was weirdly that one song with Rihanna, “This Is What You Came For,” and I wasn’t into that whatsoever, but when I heard he was moving into a funk, disco, and boogie direction, I was curious. The guy released a bunch of singles over the spring of this year, and with each single, I was more and more curious to check out his upcoming LP, Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1. I mean, artists like Migos, Frank Ocean, Khalid, Future, Pharrell Williams, Snoop Dogg, and tons more artists that are essentially who’s who of hip-hop, pop, and R&B were on this record. I was interested, and so I thought I’d finally take a look at the album, because I noticed it at Target within the last week. Because the album was only 38 minutes, I was curious enough. I’m a huge fan of funk music, but I don’t listen to a lot of modern funk music, especially in the disco / boogie vein. I like old school 1970s funk, but the vein that Harris was taking this LP was more 80s funk. It was more based on electronics, synths, and disco-infused sounds, versus being more groovy and bass-heavy funk. Nonetheless, though, I’ll be damned, because this album is awesome. There are a couple caveats to that, but we’ll cross those bridges when we get there.

For starters, I love this thing’s sound. The 80s funk sound is awesome in every single way, shape, and form. When this thing has a groove, it rides it hard. The album opens up with “Slide,” and every time I listen to that song, that’s what I want to do – slide. You can just slide and groove to that track, but songs like “Holiday,” “Feels,” “Cash Out,” and “Heatstroke,” just to name a few (otherwise I’d be naming the whole album). It’s funny, because this LP manages to do that thing where it sounds pretty similar throughout the course of the album, but each song has a different feel to it. Every song is pretty memorable, catchy, and slick, although it all sounds pretty similar throughout. It never gets repetitive, annoying, or bland, though, and that’s how it should be. That’s when you know you’ve hit a goldmine, because these types of albums are how it should be done. I also have to say, too – the guest spots on this thing are utterly great. There are a few that don’t do much for me, namely Nicki Minaj’s weirdly auto-tuned warbling on “Skrt On Me,” but the guest features, like I said, are a collection of the biggest names of pop, R&B, and hip-hop today. Some of these names are ones that you’d expect to fit quite well within funk and pop instrumentation, such as Pharrell Williams, Khalid, and Frank Ocean, whose voices work naturally well with this sound, but there are plenty of guest stars that shocked me. Migos sounds great on “Slide,” as well as the individual members who appear on a couple of tracks, Future sounds nice on “Rollin’” (along with Khalid, who takes the hook), and Lil Yachty sounds really, really nice on “Faking It” (even giving us a very heartfelt and earnest verse about how much he loves his girlfriend). I liked that verse so much, I decided to pick up his newest LP, Teenage Emotions.

A lot of these guest stars work so well, though, and I have to commend a lot of them. I wasn’t too crazy about Minaj’s feature, which doesn’t help that she’s on her own for the track, as well as the closing track, “Hard to Love,” featuring Jessie Reyez. Her vocals don’t really do anything for me, and it’s a track that I almost always skip. It’s not bad, but it’s just “meh.” Otherwise, though, I love this album. Even that song isn’t half bad, but I wish it featured someone else, or even someone else along with her. The lyrics on this thing are pretty ambivalent, as they’re not all that deep, interesting, or really thought-provoking, but the overall feeling and vibe of this album is more laidback, feel-good, and relaxed. The lyrics aren’t trying to be deep, so I don’t care about them. This does also feel more like a complete album, versus most EDM albums, where the song structures are really weird, out of whack, and they feature only a single line of vocals or two. I doubt I’ll be going into EDM’s rabbit hole soon, but this is a great album. Easily one of the best of the year. I’m happy that I picked this up, because albums can surprise you. This is definitely one of the biggest and best surprises of the year. I will say, though, I wish I picked this up sooner, because this came out earlier this summer. This would have been a great summer album, but there’s always next summer. I can see myself bumping this when the weather’s warm, because it has that feel to it. I can just vibe to this album, and it works so well. If you’re like me, and you’re not an EDM fan, but you want to get into something like that, this is a perfect album for that. It’s got a somewhat electronic to it, because it’s more disco-esque, but it’s still an actual album. There are no stupid “drops,” or anything like that (sorry for people that like that stuff, but I don’t give a crap about those things; bass drops are usually pretty lame for me, so I don’t care about them whatsoever), and the songs feel complete, interesting, and fleshed out. If you’re even thinking about checking this out, do it, because you won’t be disappointed.

[oldhead-blerdette]

The Rise, Fall, and Rebirth of Horror Comics: A Basic History

In the Beginning

Depending on who you ask, the answer may vary on the origin of horror comics. Mike Howlett, a horror comics history scholar, would tell you to look back to December 1940 for the comic based on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. This story was published in “The New Adventures of Frankenstein” from Prize Comics #7. Individual horror comics could possibly trace their origins to the comic adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde appearing in  Gilberton Publications’ Classic Comics #13 in August 1943.

Looking back even further, DC Comics decided to get in on the fun with Dr. Occult in the 1930s. Eerie (1947) from Avon Publications is championed as the first horror comic series with original content. However, it is Adventures into the Unknown (American Comics Group) that claims the title of the first horror comics title since 1948.

From then on, the genre continued to spread and evolve with mixed reception.

Yet horror comics began to expand. Many tropes of today can be found in these popular stories. They began to include terrible villains, bloodshed, monsters, scanty damsels in distress, torture and more.

Gilberton, Dell Comics, Gold Key Comics, Warren Publishing, and many others filled the spaces of horror than fans needed. Fawcett, Youthful Magazines, Harvey Comics, Charlton. The list goes on and on.

Readers became more exposed to these treacherous tales thank to a sudden boom in the genre. About 1950, comics saw the great birth of horror from EC Comics! Famed as one of the most influential in the horror game, fans today still speak their praises. Censorship in the 1950’s pushed EC a bit off track, but it didn’t stay for long. Some great tales from its day can now be found in reprints, but you can always look deeper into seller sites for the real deal. EC Comics was often imitated but never duplicated.

Some of your favorite publishers got caught up in the wave too, creating such titles like Journey into Mystery, House of Mystery, and Strange Tales. Our favorite superheroes may not have existed if not for this great explosion. What a thought!

Enter: Dr. Fredric Wertham!

You all knew this was coming. In 1954, comics all over were hit when Dr. Wertham published Seduction of the Innocent. Comics all over were hit with, regulations and policies and near censorship. Crime and horror comics were seemingly choked, and some were laid to rest altogether. Pretty soon your favorite titles had that big CCA on the cover. Not all books felt the same effects as others, though.

Crime and horror had to be set straight. The heroes must be distinguishable from the villains. No bloodshed or mangled bodies after a fight. The heroes must always win! Sounds pretty lame, right? Not everyone wants a happy ending.

The comic book media was determined to keep moving forward. Even through failed titles and “implosions”, the mainstream publishers grew. Wertham couldn’t keep his claws in our books forever

Not Dead Yet

Not even the off base “studies” of an out of touch psychiatrist could hold its grip on horror comics. Lots of publishers began to fill in the void. There was no stopping this hype train.

In 1962, Dell Comics published Ghost Stories to kick off it horror line. 1966 saw the birth of Charlton horror comics with Ghostly Tales. The blood-sucking seductress Vampirella made her debut in 1969.

In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Marvel dipped its hand into the game. They began putting out titles like Tower of Shadows, Chamber of Darkness, Where Monsters Dwell, Where Creatures Roam, The Fear, and others. Some of these publications dropped of or were simply reprints of old stories, but the ripple effect is still felt .Comic titles Werewolf By Night, Tomb of Dracula, and other classic horror tales sprung up. During this time, we see the emergence of fan favorites Morbius, Man-Thing, Blade, and more.

Many of these characters may be featured in more modern stories or crossing over with your favorite web-slinger or such.

DC Comics got in on this too. Stories like The Unexpected, House of Mystery, Secrets of Haunted House, and more popped up and sometimes spurned spinoffs for readers to enjoy. The Modern Age saw fit to carry on some horror titles as well. DC Comics imprint, Vertigo, also threw its hat in the game with Hellblazer, Preacher, and others like it. Swamp Thing, John Constantine, and Elvira were just a small few of the characters of horror that have stayed fan faves for years.

This doesn’t begin to cover the horror titles that come out from other parts of the world. Many countries published many of their own comics. Some have more classic characters and stories than others. Mexico, India, Japan, Korea, and many countries all over the world staked their claim in the game. Many of them stand on their own. I haven’t read these books, but I’m sure they’re good reads. As interesting as they seem, I’m only one person with so much time on her hands. I would certainly say that if you are looking for something more mature, definitely check out non-American books.

Disclaimer: Some of these titles are more adult than others. We are not responsible if you got caught reading dirty books.

Modern Horror

In the last two or so decades, indie comics and publishers have been on the rise. You can still find a few horror comics from your favorite big names. However, the amount of books available is exciting and can be daunting to some. I say, there are no wrong ways to go about your horror comics hunt. Everybody’s getting in on the horror comics.

In the information age, he only thing stopping you from bloodcurdling books is a bad Wi-Fi connection. Archie, Revival, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Jughead, iZombie, Hellblazer, Preacher are a drop in the bucket of horrific content. You could have it all! Please do not read this as Outright Geekery being in support of illegally obtaining comics.

DC Comics, Vertigo, Image Comics, Aftershock Comics. I could sit here all day pointing fingers in different directions.

So What’s the Big Deal?

Why are people so interested in the horror game, you may ask. Well, why shouldn’t we be. People have been obsessed with things that go bump in the night for as long as stories have been told. Whether you want a rush or to satisfy some dark fantasies, there’s something for everyone. There’s gotta be a dark spot to counter all that truth, justice, and American way, right?

Personally, I love good scare. The dark, and morbid nature of humans is brought to light in these fantastical tales. That, is an interesting thing to see. Combine that with the spooky voice of the writer, the compelling and supernatural pencil of the artist, and the attraction and relatability of the characters. Just look at those covers! How can you sit there and say you don’t want to rip those open and give them a read?

The human mind is complex thing. What better way to poke and prod at a man’s subconscious than to bring out his worst nightmare? What better way to poke and prod at our own psyche than to want to read such stories?

Itching for more spine-tingling and flesh-crawling stories? Check out your local comic shop or visit the website of your favorite publisher for more. Now, go get your spook on!

[redlemonz]

Day #14

Waking up from another wonderful fantasy can really suck. I remember this one particular Walt Disney saying, or song rather, that a dream is a wish your heart makes. Cheesy as hell I know, but you can't really be surprised by now. Now I'm not sure how that would necessarily apply to the nightmares I've had unless I'm just that much of a twisted being (wouldn't be that surprising to be fair with a mind like this), but when putting that idea aside, and focusing on last night - there's obviously a lot of truth to the saying when your dreams convey nothing but the sole love between the two of you. We briefly chatted last night about her conquering the snowy mountain, and more so than was required about my thrillingly boring weekend, and then some mild chit chat about how modern music has turned to shit. She showed me some stunning photos of the snowy covered mountain, as well as her local snowy mountain which we visited two weekends ago. It was nice to end the weekend on this high note for myself, as my eyelids shut and mouth widened a little bit. And there's the sudden realisation now that it's been two weeks since sick-day monday, and having to say goodbye as we did. Me thinking back to that final moment as I walked her back to her car, exchanging as many last kisses as I could in that moment, and then was forced to face the rest of the passengers when boarding the plane back home, upon being allocated the one emergency assistance seat that was facing backwards, with every single bit of me having to fight the urge to draw a single tear in public. That battle raged on inside me throughout that whole flight, especially as the last thing I viewed was a snap from her on my phone, informing me she reached home safely (as I'd always request her to tell me), and that she loves me. My heart skips a beat each moment I think back to this moment, and constantly wishes to relive that weekend over and over with her - it was the perfect example of what we should've, and more so, could've still become. It didn't have to be discovered too late, regardless of that very label being the definition of what had happened between us. A fresh beginning such as it was.. is just something to carry on in my own fantasy sadly. So, as you would have it, my reality of waking up after such a lovely dream, packaged with the linking memory through time, resulted in sorrow, considering that travelling the world and partnering up on all these new, exciting and unfamiliar adventures around the world with her by your side became nothing more than fiction. She's smiling there, holding onto you, and you're wrapping your arms around her and lifting her up, spinning her around a bit before meeting her lips with yours. She looks as beautiful as she always does, when you look into her blue eyes and brush back her blonde hair softly. Sounds like a work of fiction based on a dream girl right? Because it is. Right now anyway. The thing is, it use to be my reality - I've experienced all these amazing and magical moments with her that truly can't be justified through words. That moment of true love, in which you feel as though you're finally complete, because you've peaked in a level of happiness that you've never experienced before.. until she brought it out. What a dream come true she's been to me.. which is why I despised opening my eyes this morning, to find the emptiness next to me in my bed, and to remember my new truth. It's part of the reason why I started going to bed much earlier, or generally sleeping a lot on the weekend too.. not because I'm tired physically so to speak, but rather because I'm tired of life. I want this valuable time to just speed on by, and I can meanwhile just enjoy and live in my alternate reality that are my dreams. They're much nicer after all. It's why I wish I didn't wake up sometimes. Sleeping permanently just feels more appealing than being in the endless pit of reality which contains despair, pain, agony, regret, and self loathing - to say the least. As my most played song of all time goes (which she once again would cringe at, which makes me smile that I'd know her instant reaction) - It's hard to say I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep, because everything is never as it seems. Day 14 - return of an old friend and foe Unsure whether it was due to the coffee or just generally me (probably the combination of both to some extent, but considering I have a coffee every working day anyway, it's likely the latter), a familiar friend named anxiety came to visit me at work. The bitch was certainly not welcome, I'll tell you that, but nevertheless it barged it's way in through the weakly constructed walls of my head (no wonder she strengths them otherwise, she's a clever architect). Primarily because it's Monday, and I have a lot of significant work to actually do, especially prior to going up North for the whole day tomorrow for various work related interviews (look at me guys, I'm trying to make it sound like I'm important and what I do makes a difference, but I'm just another cog in the machine that can easily be replaced). But also, I'm not enjoying the fact that I'm beginning another working week and getting use to this shitty idea of not having her in my life in that way, through this anxious time. It was always so simple and nice to just speak to her about any stressful or pressure filled days, and to just feel so much better as a result of her listening and providing her presence. It would calm everything down, and I'd actually be able to feel as though I was breathing like a normal person. Even more so when I would see her in person or speak to her on the phone, as all that unnecessary load on my shoulders would just disappear or turn as minimal as it could be. She was my guardian angel, and just simply an angel, to even bother listening to me blabber on about my nonsense and put up with me in that regard, let alone display a level of care for me. I miss that. Being able to just message her anything at any point in the day without the fear of judgement or the fear and insecurity that once again I'm annoying / bothering her. Though I suppose it's more than nice to know yet again that she doesn't have to put up with these ongoing problems that were never really her concern anyway. It just reemphasises that growing sense of loneliness in me further however. I loved listening to everything about her days too, even if I didn't understand architecture jargon at times. I'd try google stuff at times just to attempt to make more sense of it and catch up to the same page as her, even though she was a full 5 years, inclusive of a thesis ahead, and also assure and show her that I do in fact care. And I still do - I genuinely enjoy hearing about what she's working on, what's being developed and what she's achieving (in addition to her indoor football stardom, and office antics inclusive of some co-worker personalities) - and in accordance with all that, if she's happy. Once in a while now, I'm still lucky to be involved enough in her life for her to continue to share these stories, and her days in general with me, though on a less regular basis. Though at the same time it sucks that it can't be as often as it use to, or go back to how it once was, as she's made it quite clear that it's not my concern, my duty, or my place to care like that anymore. Hurtful as those words can be, I can understand and try my best to listen to her. I'll just continue to persevere through it and still enjoy whatever she does decide to share with me, and it'll still make me happy to have that shared knowledge regarding how things are going for her. I just miss being the daily ears on the other end, as someone in my position would, because I do miss her every single day. But it is what it is, and I need to continue to start adjusting towards being this lone wolf, who needs to learn to deal with his added problems and stress on a daily basis like a real adult, on top of the problem of a human being that he already is. Evening time spent with the family after a hellish, yet productive day at work. Nothing exciting planned or required to be done this evening, aside from some light exercise and an early sleep for a pre-5am wake up call in the morning. Not that anything in my recent couple weeks can remotely fit the criteria of exciting or be defined as anything nearly as close to that - with the exception of the mission, last weekend.. and well, most thoughts about her in my head. Well there's other stuff too, but she's just set the bar high, and excitement is not currently an active mood whatsoever. But that's where my real exhilaration lies - imagination. Even though it is pretty limited, similar to my vocabulary and ability to describe all these scattered thoughts and emotions from different segments of my mind - which is why none of this is to literally have any likely proper form. It's just a failed punctuative of a continuous rambling about the same old stuff over and over, much like in this very inceptive moment. Anyway, back to my short evening of despair regarding everything that's broken - it sucks, even more so with acceptance. Sometimes the worst and most damagingly scarring feeling is knowing that some variables are now fixed - that no matter what, there is absolutely no possibility of changing this decided fate. No matter how utterly badly you might want it, and how ever much you wish you could go back in time and amend all your wrongs, Chris Martin will not try to fix you. Not anymore. Fuck you Coldplay. It was not all yellow, you overpriced English bastards. Though I'll admit you've now inspired me to pick up the guitar and play whatever crappy, limited chord and strumming capability stuff that I can. More on the depressing side of choice however, as it's obviously poetic and engages me with my overbearingly lame and emotional self, whilst making me sound like an absolute douchebag (self-high five for empathic emphasis). Anyhow, back to embracing the thudding of my heart against my chest oh so hurtfully - because it's what my ecstatic audience of nil really wishes to hear about, and you gotta give the people what they want after all. In this case, it's just me, myself and I - who switches persons and persona quite often it seems. Damn, you're really going to end up in an asylum, aren't you? Probably. Anyway - What gets me even more nervous and anxious now is not knowing when I'll next ever see her, because I certainly don't think I'll be able to stand for the first time since the last(whenever it may be), to be in a group setting, that's for sure. Not that I wish to assume how it'd turn out either way, but I know that it would be unorthodox for me to just pretend like everything's okay, or to just be a somewhat polite and passive existence, for the sake of being mature and politically fair in a circle of people. There's obviously a reason that I'm failing to face a group of people properly right now, even without her presence. I'm not saying I would be a dick on purpose (though it may come naturally), but I just can't fake it enough in that circumstance, considering my last memory of us together in each other's presence is.. something completely different. Group politics aside, it's still unknown and unfamiliar what the dynamics would be like between us since that moment if we were alone. What I can be certain of, is that it'll be some sort of variation of my months on end friend-zone of admiration, though toned down, based on the history since and our hardships equally suffered. Although - the most serious and significant fact of this matter right now is, that I'm going to shut the hell up. Because I'm doing it again. It's the problem with blabbering on too much, and thinking out loud even more as a result - stop complicating things that aren't complicated. She may as well sing Avril to me because it's the most appropriate thing to do at this moment - I mean It's not a fucking scientific study in which you test out which potential hypothesis ends up being the victorious result. Just calm down, and relax - no more assumptions and expectations of any sort. It's the key learning that I'm trying very much to implement in myself, to make myself a better me, who doesn't screw things up - which is still an impossible feature. Even more that I'm the asshole of a hypocrite whom always requested that she kindly didn't think too much ahead about anything, and that she just relax and live in the moment with me.. when I'm the idiot who once again can't follow his own advice. My goodness she must've gotten sick of me constantly telling her to relax and calm down, repeatedly on many a occasion, when even that blame should be upon me for aggravating any of that behaviour unnecessarily. I brought each and every justified reaction of hers upon myself through my own accord - Newton's third law. I'm the selfish bastard who would keep pushing, and pushing and then complain about what he can't have, even though she's right there. I may as well play the role of the phantom, but a demented version of even him. No wonder I constantly drove her up a wall, and past all the red lights on the road (I kid, she's a great driver - but may as well finish off this tragic evening consisting of a two week mark on a somewhat positive and comedic note, right?).

[christopherappel-blog]

Flying High

On Flying High

This story was meant to be a framed story somewhat like the princess bride. It was about a person eighty years old or older retelling a story from their lives. I did my best to write my narrator Dusty as sort of a combination of my own grandfather, and the many vets I have met in my life. I love listening to their stories, their humor, and their attempts to teach a lesson and be relevant. That’s what I tried to pull from as I wrote Dusty. Dusty’s tale flying high is one of my favorite pieces because it is a historical fiction about something I love, WWI fighter pilots. I love the whole idea of people risking their lives just to fly these planes, let alone do battle in them. In my view they were kind of like modern knights, even if they never saw themselves this way. My inspiration came from a War movie called Flyboys. The actual movie is extremely fictional, but it does draw from some facts. Because I love the movie, I did some research into the people it was based on, and did my own fictional retelling. If I had to pick out the best part about Flying High, it would be the characters. When I created them, I did my best to create believable characters with true to life dialogue.

I hope you enjoy.

“Now gather round children, I’ve got a story fer ya. This isn’t one of your moving pictures, this is a real story.”

“Don’t you mean movies Grandpa Dusty?” the boy, Oakley said.

“Move what?” Dusty said.

“Movies, like on the television…” the girl, Annie began.

“Bah, televisions. Those aren’t real stories, this is a real story. It all starts with some prince getting shot. Your home country of France was involved in a war against a nasty German dictator.”

“Hitler?” Annie asked.

“Hitler who? This man was named Kaiser Wilhelm II. He was so off his rocker, that when the Germans attacked France, the United States wouldn’t help our relatives out.”

“But Grandpa, if the U.S. didn’t help the French, how come you fought in the war?” Oakley asked.

“I was a member of a squadron known as the Lafayette Escadrille. It was a unit led by the French, but filled with American Volunteers like myself. We wore French uniforms and everything. Hell I remember my first day of training. None of us knew how to put the leather straps of the flight suits on, and quite honestly we were in over our heads.”

-

Arrival

“Hey guys, I figured it out. It’s kind of like putting a harness on.” Victor Chapman said.

“You know it might be a little easier if the damn instructions weren’t  in French.” said Dusty.

“That’s what we get for deciding to fight for these damn Frenchies.” James McConnell muttered.

“Hey I may not speak it, but I’m French.” said Dusty.

“Maybe, but you’re also American, as are the rest of us. We don’t belong here, but the French need our help.” Chapman said as he helped the other two into their flight suits.

“Do you remember where we’re supposed to go?” McConnell asked.

“Yeah we’re to report to a base just outside of... uhhh Luxel.” Chapman said as he read a handwritten note from Dr. Gros.

“I think it’s pronounced Luxeuil.”

“Who cares Dusty.”

Once they finished getting changed the three of them made their way towards Luxeuil’s airfield. They navigated as best they could in a foreign country, but they still managed to be fashionably late.

“Sir, we are here to report for duty.” Dusty and the other two saluted who they assumed was their commanding officer. “You are Captain Thenault right? We were told to report to you.”

“That is correct.” the man replied with a thick French accent. “You boys are late.”

“Sorry, first time in France.” McConnell said.

“Fall in line with your fellow countrymen.” Thenault said.

The three of them joined the other Americans standing at parade rest in front of Captain Thenault, who then proceeded to address the line of men in front of him. “Bonjour et bonjour messieurs. Au nom de la France, je vous remercie pour votre service. Vous êtes parmi les premiers Américains à rejoindre notre noble conflit et …” he paused due to the general look of confusion he was met with. “Umm, do any of you actually speak French?”

A few muttered no’s and some head shaking confirmed Thenault’s suspicions.

“Well, I just wanted to thank you young men for choosing to fight on behalf of the French. Your benefactor, Dr. Edmund L. Gros, has seen to the costs of your training, housing arrangements, and anything else you’ll need. Do please try to at least pick up some French while you’re here, it’s a bit disingenuous to volunteer to fight on behalf of a country whose language you can not understand.”

After an initial tour of the airfield, the men were driven to the building in which they would reside while training and fighting for the French. Their quarters happened to be a Grand Hotel within Luxeuil.

“Hot damn if this isn’t the nicest place I’ve ever slept in.”

“Be respectful Dusty, Dr. Gros was kind enough to put us up in a suite befitting foreigners fighting for a country other than their own. I’m sure the Hessians slept better than the British Imperials.” stated Norman Prince.

Prince was a veteran pilot, and the one who had proposed the idea of American volunteer fighting in a squadron that they might actually make a difference. Dr. Gros relished in the idea and had give it his full support. Prince, Dusty, Chapman, and McConnell were also joined  by Elliot Cowdin, Laurence Rumsey, Kiffin Rockwell, and William Thaw.

“You mean to say we’re expected to die, so they’re treating us nice so that we won’t have any regrets.” Cowdin announced, as he did, there was a general look of uneasiness among the other men.

“Quiet now!” Prince responded in an attempt to regain control.

“He’s right.” Chapman yelled even louder. “These damn flying machines have only been around for fifteen years, and we’re supposed to what fly with them?”

“The French Nieuports we are going to be flying are a top of the line aircraft, we’ll be fine.” Thaw said as he pushed up his glasses. He was off to the side reading a book while propped up against the wall. “And if you were so uneasy about flying, why did you volunteer for this anyhow?”

“Like Dusty says, it was the right thing to do. It doesn’t matter if I’m scared, someone has to help the Frenchies fight the Krauts. Ever even heard of a French war victory?” Chapman said.

There was a slight pause, a calm of  sorts, and all the men began to laugh. They knew what was on the line, and while it bothered them, they had all come to do the right thing. Fight in a war the French couldn’t possibly win on their own. With a general sense of camaraderie in place, they all began to pack in for the night.

-

“Hold on a minute Grandpa, you got to stay in a hotel?” Annie asked.

“Of course I did. Times were different back then. Man oh man was it a nice place. We each got our own suite with three rooms. You had a sitting room, dining room, kitchen, and then your bedroom. They were furnished with some of the best European pieces you’ve ever seen.”

“That’s so not fair Grandpa, I want to stay in a nice French hotel.” Annie said.

“Maybe you’ll get to if we get involved in another World War.” Dusty said followed by a slight chuckle from both him and Annie.

“That’s not funny you guys.” said Oakley.

“You haven’t asked anything, are you sure you’re even paying attention Oaks?”

“I mean the stories alright so far, but why were you guys so afraid to fly? You know you’re more likely to die in a car crash than when you travel by plane.” Oakley said.

“Well you see, the planes we flew were a bit different. We were lucky to get those damn things moving over a hundred miles an hour, and they flew like rocks.”

“Even if they didn’t fly well, it must have been cool to fly some of the first planes.” Oakley said.

“To us they weren’t ‘the first planes.’ They were just planes, and we just flew them. That was that, nothing special. Where was I?”

“You had just gotten to the part where you guys got to the hotel.” Annie chimed in.

“Ah yes, once we got settled in, the work began.”

-

Training

Their training took several months. They began with a general knowledge of aerodynamics, Captain Thenault taught them how lift worked, and why these machines could even get up in the air. This seemed to ease everyone’s nerves about flying, at least somewhat.

They learned battle strategy, and how to work as a squadron in the air. They were taught things like angle of attack, and they were given a chance to fire the Vicker’s MGs that their Nieuports would be equipped with.

Once they’d learned the basics of flight, and had practiced the rudimentary combat skills and ideas they would need in air to air and air to ground combat, they were ready to fly. They flew in pairs, a trainer in back, and the trainee up front at the controls. The experience was exhilarating for them. Soaring over a mile in the air at unimaginable speeds, it was incredible. It wasn’t too long before they all began to fly solo.

The excitement of flying, and the pride they took in the idea of defending their allies against an evil Empire had erased any inhibitions the Americans had.

Once they had all become proficient pilots, their individual strengths and weaknesses had become evident. Chapman and Thaw were the best at aerial maneuvers, but Rockwell, Rumsey, and McConnell had better aim. Cowdin was the most cool headed and logical in the high pressure situations that their training had provided. Prince and Dusty were tied for all around best pilots.

One night near the end of their training, Cowdin brought up the question of their identity as a squadron.

“You guys…” he began. “What should they call us?” he asked. They all turned their attention to Cowdin. Some were playing cards, some having private conversation, and Thaw as usual was reading from a book.

“How about Blue Angels?” Dusty proposed.

“Why Blue Angels? It sounds kind of lame for a group of badass combat aviators like ourselves.” McConnell asked half joking.

“Well I figured because our uniforms are blue, and because we soar in the sky like angels.” Dusty said.

“I don’t know, I don’t think it’ll stick. Don’t we want a name that people will remember?” Chapman asked.

“How about Lafayette Escadrille?” Thaw offered looking up from his book.

“It’s got a nice ring to it, what does it mean?” Prince asked.

“Well  I was reading the other day and…” Thaw began.

“You were reading? Big surprise.” Cowdin said. They all proceeded to laugh.

“Hold on, give him a second, I want to hear this name out.”

“You know how the French have been our Allies as long as we’ve been a country, even before that?” he paused. “Well back during our revolution, there was a Frenchie named Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. He was a key figure in both our revolution, and their own. I think we should call ourselves Lafayette Escadrille in honor of him. Escadrille simply because it’s the French word for squadron, and we are a French squadron after all.”

“So you have been learning your French after all.” said a voice with a familiar French accent.

Everyone snapped to attention. “Sir.” they all said in military unison.

“At ease gentlemen.” Captain Thenault said. “So Lafayette Escadrille, this is to be your name no?”

“We hadn’t exactly decided, but it felt as thought there was a general consensus regarding the validity of that name.” Prince said in his usual take charge manner.

“It is decided then. You shall be known as the Lafayette Escadrille. Just in time too, your first mission is in a week, and your planes are currently on their way. Now that you are officially a squadron, what shall your mascot be?” Captain Thenault asked.

“Mascot?” Dusty responded.

“Oui, of course a mascot. You need a symbol of some sort to be painted on your planes so that in the air you can recognize each other and fight as a unit.”

“Well it should be symbolic, but maybe also a little intimidating. Something that strikes fear into the Krauts.” Chapman said.

“Well we’ve got a French name how about an American symbol?” McConnell added.

“I think I have an idea.” Dusty said.

“No we are not putting fucking angels on our planes, blue or otherwise.” Chapman said.

“It’s not that, I was thinking we have an Indian war chieftan as our mascot.” Dusty said

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” said Thaw. “The Indians do have a tendency to strike fear into their enemies using only their appearance, and they are the original Americans.

“Sounds like it’s settled then Captain.” Prince said. “We are the Lafayette Escadrille, the flying Indians.

-

“You were in the Lafayette Escadrille?” Oakley said in a voice of disbelief.

“So you’ve heard about us eh?”

“Heard about you? We’re studying WWI in history, I was assigned to study your squadron for my project. Grandpa you’re friends are in my history book.” Oakley fetched his textbook from his book bag and flipped to a page with an old black and white photograph and a caption that read ‘Lafayette Escadrille circa 1916.’

“Yep that’s us, I’m the one right in the middle.” Dusty pointed at a figure

“Grandpa, you’re practically a walking piece of history, that’s so cool.” Annie said

“I don’t know if I should take offense to that, or if i should take it as a compliment.”

“Maybe a bit of both.” Oakley said. The three of them laughed.

-

First Mission

The air was cold on the morning of their first mission. They briefing had been short, and the Escadrille was excited. This was to be the maiden voyage of their newly manufactured and newly painted Nieuports. Each man had been granted his own personal plane, owned of course by Dr. Gros, but they felt personal sentiment towards their crafts nonetheless. This was part in fact to the hand painted Indian chiefs on each of their planes. They would represent America with Pride and honor.

Their first aerial engagement was helping to support ground troops in the battle of Verdun. Five days into the fighting, the Escadrille took their first aerial victory. Rockwell had shot down a German Fokker. Dusty and Prince soon scored victories of their own.

In the battles that followed everyone managed to earn an aerial victory, and both Dusty and Prince had achieved the title of ace for having achieved five aerial victories each. The mood at the hotel had become that of a celebratory sports team after a major victory. They had all become quite confident with their abilities in the air, and life was good. They had the power of gods, flying thousands of feet above their French comrades on the ground. Nothing could touch them. Or so they thought.

Rockwell was killed on a routine scouting mission, and Prince perished while single handedly taking on a bomber. This rocked Dusty and the other men, two of their comrades had perished in such a short span. They were reminded of their mortality.

Their success on the other hand had a widespread effect on their fellow Americans. Over fifty recruits joined their ranks, and they became notorious as a unit. The Germans soon learned to fear the flying Indians. Some continued to perish, but others filled the space they left, but dusty never forgot Prince or Rockwell.

It wasn’t long before the United States entered the war, and when that happened the Lafayette was dissolved. Dusty joined the 103rd Aero Squadron with many of the other members of the Lafayette.

Chapman signed on to fight with an infantry unit citing that fighting in the trenches was safer then soaring through the air. He’d never been a fan of flying, and was happy that he was able to serve in a way he was comfortable with.  He perished when his rifle misfired and killed him.

As the war drew near to an end, the original members of the Lafayette had been spread into various units of Aero squadrons in order to share their flying experience with the greener American pilots. With the United States fighting against the Germans, it was only a matter of time before the war was won in favor of the French American allied forces. Dusty never saw another member of the Lafayette for the rest of his life.

-

“So they just split you guys up like that, that’s not fair.” Annie said.

“There was nothing we could do, even though we fought under the French for a time, once the U.S. joined the war we had to answer to them.”

“That kind of sucks Gramps.” Oakley said.

“That’s life.” Dusty sighed with a voice of resignation. “It’s not so bad though, I mean I did meet your grandmother after the war. She was such a fox.”

“Ewww.” The kids groaned in unison.

“Thanks for the story Grandpa.” Annie said.

“Did you learn anything from it?”

“Just that you and grandma were young and less gross once.” joked Oakley.

“Hey now, one day you’ll be old and gross too.” Dusty joked back. “But really did you guys learn anything.

“I learned that you’re a pretty cool guy gramps.” Annie said.

“Here here.” Oakley seconded the sentiment.

“Oh geez kids, I love you guys.” as he said that he began to blink rapidly, and the room began to swirl.

As everything began to settle, an old but familiar voice said. “We love you too Dusty.”

Dusty looked up, and to his surprise, Captain Thenault, and the rest of the Lafayette were standing in front of him. “Does this mean what I think it means.”

“It happens to all of us.” Prince said.

“At least I got to tell them one last story.” Dusty said.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Internet Famous: 5

Fandom: Star Wars (Modern AU)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: Poe and Reader are friends who came together and started a youtube channel for fun. 1 million subscribers later, they’re now internet famous. Their friendship has thrived, however, all of their fans can obviously see that Poe and Reader aren’t just friends.

Internet Famous Masterlist

When you woke up the next day, you were beyond excited. You were going to the parks today! You excitedly hopped out of bed, laid out your outfit on the bed, and got into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, you came out in your towel and saw that Poe was awake. Poe’s eyes were stuck on you and you were starting to feel a bit anxious. You’ve seen each other in a towel before. But then the phrase, “my girl” came back to mind.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him trying not to show your uneasiness. You threw your pillow at him, “Take a shower and get dressed! Rope drop is in an hour!”

Poe giggled, “You’re glowing.”

“I’m excited! Now hurry up before I get violent with you again!”

“No need to tell me twice!” He got out of bed and laid his clothes on the bed. He then kissed your cheek and went into the bathroom. You really wished he’d stop doing that. It started to make those feelings that you’ve buried so deep inside yourself want to emerge again. You shook your head to clear your thoughts. 

You put on your bra and underwear. Then your black jeans, the Disney shirt you bought yesterday, with a denim jacket on top, your two Disney pins on said jacket, your socks, your comfy running shoes, your Minnie hat that matched Poe’s, and lastly, the ‘Princess’ necklace that Poe gave you. 

When Poe came out of the bathroom, you were finishing up your minimal makeup.

He nodded in approval, “Cute.” He dressed up in some khaki shorts, brown boat shoes, a Disney Hawaiian shirt he found at a thrift store, and the Mickey hat he’d just bought, “Ready to go?”

You nodded and headed out the door.

When  you got your tickets, Poe handed you a card that you knew wasn’t just a one day or two day ticket. Nope. It was an Annual Pass. Your eyes shot up to him. 

“Surprise!”

You jumped up and down and hugged him, “You’re seriously the best!”

He shrugged, “I know. So, breakfast first?”

“Yes! Carnation Cafe!” 

“As you wish, princess.”

“Wooow. Pulling a Princess Bride on me, huh? And I thought you said you hated that movie.”

Poe shrugged, “It’s growing on me.” 

At the Carnation Cafe, you and Poe ordered the Mickey shaped waffle. You were bouncing in your seat when you got it, “It looks too good to eat!” You said as you focused your vlogging camera on the food. You then set the camera down, still recording, onto the table. It took a few tries to keep it at an angle where you and Poe were in the frame. 

As you two ate, you discussed what you should do first. Meet characters? Go on rides? Watch parades?

“I’ll agree to whatever you want, princess.” Poe said with a smirk.

“Noooo! Don’t do that!”

“Do what?”

“Be such a sweetheart! It sucks ‘cause it makes me feel bad! You make a decision!”

Poe laughed, “Okay! Okay! Let’s go to Tomorrowland since it’s the smallest land.”

You nodded, “Okay, sounds good.” You and Poe finished up your breakfast and then began to head to Tomorrowland. Because the park just opened, you two decided to go on Space Mountain first since that’s usually the most busy. So why not take advantage of the short wait time? 

Whilst in line, you and Poe were vlogging and snapchatting. Poe had the vlogging camera on you. He was recording you while you were recording him on snapchat. You started giggling.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a suspicious glare.

You showed him the video you took. You had put the bunny filter on him, “You make a cute bunny.”

“At least I’m cuter than you!”

“No way. I’m sooo much cuter than you.”

“Okay. Dog filter. Right now. Then we’ll ask everyone who’s cuter.”

“Fine.” You switched the camera to your front camera and stood next to Poe. The dog filters appeared on both of you. You two smiled. You then typed in the caption, “Who’s cuter: Me or Poe?” and waited for responses. Within 5 minutes, you started getting responses. Most of them were Poe.

You pouted and Poe zoomed onto your face, “Aaawww. What’s wrong little puppy? Upset that our viewers like me more than you? Come on. Lemme see a smile. Come on, princess.” Poe pushed the camera into your face and you couldn’t control your lips twitching upward into a smile, “There’s that beautiful smile.” Poe beamed at you and you could feel yourself blushing again.

After Tomorrowland, you headed towards Adventureland and New Orleans Square. That was your favorite area in the parks. Poe wanted to go on Jungle Cruise, so you two waited in line. You remembered how the Skippers told all these punny jokes.

“I think you’d make a good skipper.” You simply stated.

Poe looked at curiously, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “All the jokes you tell are stupid and lame. So you’ll fit right in.” 

Poe pretended to be offended, “You said you liked my jokes!”

“I was just being a good friend to make you think you’re actually funny.”

“MY LIFE IS A LIE!”

You started laughing, “You’re so dramatic. Calm down.”

“No! I will not calm down! I brought you to Disneyland and this is the thanks I get?!” Poe continued his dramatic ways.

You slapped your hand onto his mouth, “Oh my God! Shut up!” You laughed. Poe narrowed his eyes at you. You then felt something wet on your hand and you screeched, “What the Hell!! Eeeeewwww!!!” You wiped your hand on Poe’s shirt. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned to see an older couple smiling at you, “You two make an adorable couple.” The old woman said.

“Oh, we-” you started.

“Thank you!” Poe said, “You and your husband as well!”

The old lady chuckled, “You’re too kind, dear. Thank you. How long have you two been together?”

“Since high school. So about 9 years. That about right, babe?”

You were blushing sooooo hard, “Uh yeah! Sounds about right. Honestly, it’s been so long, we’ve lost track of time.”

The older man gave a hearty laugh, “Wait, ‘til you get married.”

You then looked at the line and saw that you were next, “Oh! Looks like we need to get on. It was nice talking to you two!”

“And you, dear. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

“Thank you!” Poe said as you two got onto the boat.

You pushed him as you two sat down, “Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t want to embarrass her! She was a sweet old lady!”

“Seriously, stop being such a sweetheart. People keep thinking we’re a couple!”

“Is it that bad of a thought for us to be a couple?”

“Well…n-”

“Welcome everyone to the Jungle Cruise! My name is Richard and I’ll be your Skipper today!”

Poe never got to hear your answer. And inside, he was dying to know.

Part 6