#dont ask me how i’ve gotten so many eggs

[shadow-dragon-fr]

It’s almost been a year since I started playing flight rising, so i thought i’d share some screenshots of some notable loot and hatches!

And by notable I mean anything from the three lightening eggs to the two turtles kissing

and also all the cotton candy i got and how much food it turned into

[make-me-imagine]

Lisianthus: Everlasting Bond

Valentines Special: Day Seven

Day One: Morning Glories  //  Day Two: Blue Salvias Day Three: Sunflowers  //  Day Four: Pink Camellias Day Five: Yellow Tulips   //  Day Six: Violets - Day Eight: Daffodils

Plot: The reader keeps receiving flowers and sweet messages every day from an anonymous source leading up to Valentines Day. But who is sending them?

Choose your own character ending (coming on Valentines Day).

Gender!Neutral Reader x ???

Triggers: None        Words: 1,156

Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney​​, @thebookbakery​​,  @groovyfluxie​​  Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394​​, @gaitwae​​, @fablesrose​​, @kitkatd7​​, @thefallenbibliophilequote​​, @beksib​​, @destynelseclipsa​​, @criminaly-supernatural​​, @tammythompson-singslikea-muppet, @belloangelus​​, @snarky--starky​​, @saintbootlegloras​​, @wecallhimbrowneyess​​, @empath-bunny​​, @okkulta​​, @katinthemoon,  @ravennight41​​, @youcancallme-rae , @radhumandragonclam, @unfortunateidiotinadilemma, @past3l-w1ngs​​ , @okkulta​​ , @anonymous-pls-dont-click​​ (just daily), @username23345​​, @hulkswitch​​, @theofficialzivadavid​​, @lainphotography​​, @fred-deeks-ben​​, @normanijauregui​​, @goinggoinggonzo​, @mxxnmocha​, @euphouriaszn2​, 

February 12th

You scribbled on a notepad as you scrolled through the website you were reading through. Wanting to press some of the flowers you received, you wanted to do it correctly so that they lasted a long time. You wanted to buy a small journal, a flower on each page, with the note saved next to it.

“So, I need, the journal, blotting paper, diluted glue, and clear acrylic spray” you said to yourself as you wrote a note in your phone. You smiled to yourself as you thought about the little project.

After getting dressed you made your way through the tower, asking the others if they needed anything from the stores. Tony and Natasha asked for lunch, Clint needed milk, eggs, and creamer. Bruce, Vision, Wanda, and Steve needed nothing. Now you were seeking out Bucky as the last to ask if he needed anything. 

Wandering into the gym, you found him replacing the hanging rope on a punching bag. 

“Hey Buck” you greeted as you entered. 

He smiled at you “Hey.”

“I’m going to the grocery store, and I made the rounds asking everyone else if they needed anything, and you are the last. So. Do you need anything?”

He smiled at you as he stood “Actually, I need quite a few things, do you mind if I just go with you?” 

“Of course not, I would never decline your company” you said with a cheery smile “Need time to get ready?” 

“I just have to go grab my wallet from my room, I’ll meet you in the car-park.”

- - - 

As you paced down the crafts isle, after having gotten everyone else’s stuff you frowned when you couldn’t find blotting paper or acrylic spray, you weren’t surprised they weren’t here, but you had been hoping to save yourself a trip. 

“Hey” you heard from behind you.

Turning you see Bucky strolling up behind you, cart in tow “What are you looking for?” 

“Blotting paper and acrylic spray” you said with a sigh “But there isn’t any here, I have to go somewhere else.”

“What do you need them for?”

You opened your mouth to answer him and then faltered. Should you tell him? What if it is him? You felt heat creep up your neck at the thought. 

He rose his brow as you remained silent “Is it a secret or something?” he let out a small chuckle. 

Then again, if you tell him, maybe he wont be able to hide his reaction if it is him. You let out a small breath “I want to press the flower’s I’ve been receiving.”

Bucky took a second to react before he smiled “That sounds like a great idea. It’ll make a great keepsake. There is a craft store a few streets if you want to stop and look there.”

You had no idea how to take his reaction. He didn’t seem perturbed or shocked about it. You returned the smile he gave you “You wouldn’t mind?” 

He shook his head in reply and smiled “Of course not.” 

- - -

After finally getting back to the tower after scouring the craft store with Bucky’s help you finally had everything you needed to press the flowers. You planned on using the rest of your day to begin pressing. You didn’t have to get back to work until tomorrow. 

After dropping off Tony and Natasha’s lunch and Clint’s groceries you made your way to your room. As you exited the elevator and began walking towards your apartment, you were surprised to see a new bouquet placed at your doorstep. You had almost forgotten that you would be receiving another gift today. 

You excitedly picked it up and admired the pretty pale pink and white flowers wrapped in a white paper covered in small gold flakes, tied with twine. Quickly getting into your apartment you placed your bags on the desk before searching for the note in the flowers. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ Lisianthus

“Everlasting Bond” Ever since we met, I felt a bond between us. It formed through teamwork, turned into friendship, and then family, and continued to grow stronger and change from there. I still and always will see you as a friend, an ally, and family. But my feelings have progressed past that. As you already know. 

This bond between us has help keep me grounded, and made me feel as though I was never alone, and that I always had you beside me. Soon I know, I will learn the truth of how you feel about me. And no matter what you feel, I know that this bond will remain, and continue to be strong and unbroken for the rest of our lives.  ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

You felt an odd since of comfort fill your being as you read their words. This note made it more clear that whoever it is, is definitely someone you are very close too, which narrows it down from everyone you’ve worked with to mostly just the Avengers. You were all so close, they were your found family. 

After everything that has happened, Ultron, the division between the team and the fight at the airport, Thanos, you had all been through so much together, and you were able to grow closer and become more of a family that just a team. You loved all of them so much. But this person, they held a different form of love for you, an ‘everlasting bond’. 

You bit your lip as you fell deep into thought. Could you really be alright with it being any of them? Could you see yourself loving all of them? What a strange thought. There was already one in particular you know you could, you had already fallen for them before any of this happened. If it wasn’t them, could you move on and accept someone else’s affection? 

Even though they insist that no matter your decision there will still be a bond, and like a previous note, they said they will accept your decision no matter what. But you knew from past experience, that unrequited love is one of the most painful things to experience. Would they really be able to continue being around you, if you rejected them?

Looking over at your calendar, you see February 14th circled in red. The day after tomorrow you would finally learn who it was. How would you deal with it if it wasn’t someone you could see yourself having feelings for? 

You wish that Valentines would come already, but at the same time, you wish it wouldn’t come at all. The internal conflict raging within you made you unsure of what you wanted. And unsure of what to do. But just as you have with many things before, you would wait and see what happens, and deal with it as it comes. All the while hoping, that at the end of all this. You would be happy.

xx xx xx xx xx

Not sure if I like this one that much, and it does seem a bit short, but I’m trying not to be too repetitive with these days and I’m having a hard time making them somewhat interesting.

Ahhhh, well, I hope you are liking it/them at least lol.

[its-me-im-coraline]

Best Years // Thomas Raggi // Playlist

words // 1109

warnings // angst as hell, why am i writing so much angst? I dont know

pairing // Thomas Raggi x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. sorry I did not post yesterday, i was not feeling really inspired at all so yeah, but thankfully that's changed today so here. WHO LET ME WRITE SO MUCH ANGST SOMEONE STOP ME OMG. Unless you like the angst, then don't stop me 😉 Also please forgive me for making Thomas the bad guy on this fic, i literally randomly picked the songs for these fics at first without thinking of the lyrics so now I'm stuck with the consequences of angst

request // nope

summary // Thomas and reader have been having an on and off relationship. One moment they are together, the next they are entertaining other people; but in the end they only ever think of each other.

“Don’t you just feel great, here, like that, with me holding you?” The man was lying on the bed of his hotel room, his partner in his arms, simply basking in the afterglow of what went down a few minutes ago.

Y/N just smiled at him, eyes closed and head resting on his shoulder. “Mhm,” they simply mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

By the time morning came around Thomas had already gotten up, leaving his partner alone in the bed before abandoning the room heading for the dinning area for breakfast. When he got to it his bandmates were already there, sitting at a table and eating, only giving him a disappointed look.

“You didn’t tell them. Again.” Victoria glared at her friend while poking her eggs with her fork maybe a little to violently

“There is nothing to say Vic. We are together again, what happened when we were not does not concern them.”

“Thomas! This has already happened so many times. You break up, you go with someone else, you get back together and act like nothing happened!” He was their friend, that is for sure, but Thomas’ bandmates pride themselves in their honesty and in their effort to be respectful. It did not seem to be the case for the younger man.

He wasn’t a bad person, no, but his mind was clouded by the options, the excitement of the moment, that rush. He loved Y/N - not that he knew that - but he had a terribly difficult time being consistent. He was young, spontaneous, had not had much time to explore his options, and while it was entirely wrong, he did so now at the expense of his lover. The words he heard put him in deep thought, and at this time deep thought ment deep drinking for him.

As the night rolled around Thomas found himself occupying the hotel bar. Considering emotions, problems and choices is a hard thing and though he had to do so he was not even remotely ready for that. The comfort of the drink and the existence of beautiful women was enough for a journey of the mind and a mistake of the body. By the time he was done he found himself sitting outside of his hotel room, where Y/N was just inside.

His back was on the wall and his eyes were closed, almost falling asleep right there, so he failed to hear them open the door. “Thomas, dio mio, I was just coming to look for you! Are you okay?” They were concerned to say the least, an obvious observation really. Their eyebrows were furrowed, lips separated and hand on their chest, holding the little pendant Thomas had given them - it was a thing they tended to do whenever they were nervous, hold the charm of the pendant, take a deep breath and it helped calm them down.

“No need, amore, as you can see I’m right here,” he slurred, stumbling across words, missing letters… He was very far gone and anyone could see that.

Y/N simply took a deep breath, bracing themselves for the upcoming night and morning. It was always the same cycle. He did something he should not, he would drink, do more things he should not and come back to Y/N. It was never fun but they did not have the heart to just leave him there.

“Come on, Thom, help me a little bit! You need to get up.” The man groaned but did as told before getting inside the room with his… partner.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as Y/N sat him in the bathtub, trying to rid him of his drunken state even a little bit.

“I know you are.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand! I really am sorry. I want to change…”

How many times? Just how many times has he said the same things, same excuses and same empty promises. It never changed and it had certainly gotten tiring. That was precisely the reason they could not believe that Thomas this time would be different, he had given them a million reasons to hesitate.

Maybe it was the on and off that became tiring, both parties figuring out different excuses that simply did not make sense, but always being enough to cause the temporary break ups. A lot of the time, especially if on tour, Thomas would find someone to ‘comfort’ him for a few nights, wasting his time with people that simply were not his. They never were Y/N, no matter how hard he tried to not think about that, he’d wake up the next morning with an unfamiliar person but a familiar discomfort in his stomach.

“It will not be the same, amore, I promise,” he said this time, “you’ll see! I’m willing to try.”

To be completely honest, Y/N did not seem to believe much of the man’s words. They had heard them time and time again, it had become difficult to put trust in them again. “I am not sure, Thomas,” they said, leaning behind them on the counter, “how can I possibly say that it’s ok, how can we be together, again?” The exasperation was obvious, not being able to be contained, after all the pain and the strain in their heart.

“I know, I know. I’ve been terrible… But I really am willing to change. Make it up for all the times I screwed up. I’ll make up for all of your tears.”

Y/N stayed quiet. They did not want to continue this conversation, especially while Thomas was drunk, this state making it even harder to believe him.

“I did not do it,” he breathed out after the silence had gotten too much, “I didn’t do it this time…”

“What didn’t you do?” asked Y/N, curiosity lacing their voice, puzzled at his words.

“I didn’t go with anyone. Not when we were apart this time, not while I got drunk. Everyone thinks I did so I let them believe it, but I didn’t,” he explained looking down, “I couldn’t.”

“Why?” They knew it was not the question they should be asking but before thinking the word had already come out.

“Because I realized something,” he responded, putting his palm on Y/N’s face after they came back to the side of the tub.

The only hummed back at him, prompting him to continue. “I want to be with you, for good. No more fighting, no more drinking, no more tears, baby. Nothing. I want to be full on this, please. I’ll give you the best years and nothing else will matter anymore.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

playlist tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

[adrianasunderworld]

Something in your Aura

Raihans female!reader

Tired. He was so very tired. Raihan had a packed schedule most of the day. From a photoshoot in the early morning, a training session with his gyms trainers, and then overlooking some documents in the archives. By the time he left the vault, the sun was starting to set. He was ready to sleep, eat, and shower, not necessarily in that order.

    But it seemed the day was not over yet. As he walked down the street, Raihan heard what sounded like a pokemon cry. It was small yelping noise that gradually got closer and closer to him. Looking behind him, Raihan was greeted with the sight of the tiniest Rioulu he had ever seen come bounding up to him. The little one stopped in front of him, tilting its head up and staring curiously.

    Raihan knelt down at the little pokemons level and held out a hand for them to sniff. "Where did you come from?" 

   "Riii" it replied, putting its little black paws on his hand. "Rii rio!" Whatever the little one wanted, it seemed happy.

   While it was content, Raihan looked over the young pokemon. The Riolu looked clean and well fed. It had a little red ribbon tied around its neck like a scarf. At the end it had a name embroidered on the end in gold thread. Gently taking hold of the end of the ribbon, it said Aaron. 

    "Aaron? Is that your name?" Raihan asked the Riolu.

    "Ri!" Aaron nodded.

    "Where's your trainer then?" It was obvious the little pokemon wasn't one of the wild strays that wandered the streets. They clearly had a trainer that took care of them, and were probably very worried. Raihan picked up the small pokemon and stood. "How about we go find them?"

    "Riolu." Aaron nodded and happily perched himself on Raihans shoulder. It seemed the best idea was to go in the direction Aaron had come from. But as they wandered down the street, Raihan didn't see anyone who looked worried or was searching for something, and Aaron did not seem to respond to any of the people passing. He had stopped a couple of people to ask them, but all shook their heads and did not recognize the baby pokemon. 

     It was starting to get late, and at this point Raihan was starving. Aaron began to yawn from his seat on his shoulder. It did not look like they were going to find Aarons trainer tonight. So, without many options, Raihan bought himself some dinner and took his new friend home. 

     "Hey Rotom," he said, and his phone came flying out, the pokemon ready to snap pictures. "Lets get word to out about our little friend here." Rotom pointed the camera at him and started to record. "Hey everyone, listen, if anyone is in Hammerlocke and missing a Rioulu,  I've found him. He's safe. Say hi Aaron."

   "Ri!" He waved to the camera, Rotom being certain to get a good shot of him.

   "Please, if you are his trainer,or know his trainer. Message me and I will get back  to you as soon as possible. Good night." After posting the video and a clear picture of Aaron for good measure, Raihan settled down for the night as he waited for any responses. Meanwhile, the young Riolu seemed to finally grasp that it was no longer home. The cheerful little guy had curled up quietly in Raihans lap, looking a little sad. 

   Raihan scratched him behind the ear. "Miss your trainer?" 

   "Riii…." the baby pokemon nodded sadly. 

   "Don't worry, we'll find them." Raihan assured and let Aaron curl up on his chest that night to sleep.

    The next day, Raihans phone had blown up with notifications. Most of them were comments about how cute Aaron was and well wishes in finding his trainer. most of the private messages that had been sent were of people claiming to be his trainer, but most came off as shady at best. Raihan contemplated going down to the Pokemon center to see if anyone had reported Aaron missing, when he got another message. This one was from a girl, it said her name was __.

   Raihan opened the message and read it.

    Hi, my friend showed me your post about the Riolu you found last night. I'm his trainer, he ran off last night and was no where to be found. I've been worried sick. Please let me know when I can come get him.

    Out of curiosity, Raihan looked at her profile. It didn't take long at all to see a picture of Aaron, ribbon and all, curled up with a Lucario. Then another picture of him being held by the girl, both looking very happy. Raihan showed Aaron the picture and the little one pawed at the screen, crying out for her as if he could reach through the screen to get to her. That seemed to settle it.

     Raihan took one more look at the photo. "Why didn't you tell me your trainer was cute?" 

     "Ri?"

     He chuckled to himself as he messaged the girl back. Noon in Hammerlockes gym lobby sound good?

It only took a minute for her response. 

See you there.

    Sitting in the lobby, Raihan watched as Aaron played on the floor, Flygon had taken it upon themself to entertain the young one by letting him tackle their tail. Just as it was about to be noon, Raihan heard a girls voice from the entrance.

    "Aaron? Aaron!" 

    The Rioulu sprang up and happily ran towards his trainer. She scooped him and hugged him, Raihan could see her relax by the moment. Any worry immediately melting away from her face. 

   "Riri!" Aaron cried out and pointed his paw towards Raihan. 

    The girl looked over and walked towards him. She smiled. "I cant thank you enough for finding him."

    Raihan waved it off. "Dont worry about it, I'm just glad the little guy is back where he belongs." 

     She sighed in relief. "You don't know the panic attack I went through last night." 

    "I can imagine," he said. "What happened anyway? How did you two get separated?"

    "We were walking home after training in the wild area, when he just ran off." She said. "My Lucario did his best to track him down, but he got lost so fast we couldn't find him. I searched everywhere but no luck. Then my friend sent me that post you made and I messaged you as soon as possible." Then she paused. "How did you find him anyway?"

     "He just ran up to me." Raihan said, unsure of how to explain. "I don't know.He seemed so happy, like he was looking for me or something. "

      ___ nodded thoughtfully. "Hhmm…"

      "What do you mean hhmm?"

      "Well…" she paused as if collecting her thoughts before continuing. "I think… maybe it's something about your aura."

     "My aura?"

      ___ nodded. "Yeah… I mean. How familiar are you with the Lucario line?"

     Raihan shrugged. He didn't get to fight many Lucario. Though he was vaguely aware of their unique abilities. "I know they're the aura pokemon. I've read a bit about that stuff, but I can't say I know much."

    She nodded. "Okay, well, to make a long story short, aura is this energy that all living things have. And the Lucario line are unique in that that they are able to sense and use auras energy. I think maybe Aaron sensed your aura and went looking for you."

    Raihan couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. It was certainly an interesting theory. "What could possibly be so attractive about my aura that he would come running?"

     ___ looked him at and down, a coy grin in her face. "It doesn't seem that far fetched. You have a very good aura."

    "You say it as if you can see it."

     Her face went red and she looked away in embarrassment."....I-I can…"

     "Oh," Raihan didn't mean to make her feel embarrassed. Though now he was genuinely curious. "That's pretty damn cool."

      She turned back to him, Aaron seemed to sense whatever it was she was feeling and looked at her curiously. "Thanks, um...but yeah. I guess he could just sense you were a good person and wanted to meet you." she smiled awkwardly.

    Raihan grinned back and reached out to scratch Aaron behind the ear. "Well I was glad to meet him."

      Aaron seemed very happy about it too. But his mood quickly changed when ___ said, "Thanks again for finding him. Come on, Aaron, let's go home." The Riolu started to squirm and cry out. He kept reaching out to Raihan like he didn't want to leave. __ seemed equally distressed. "Aaron, what's wrong? What's gotten into you? Dont you want to see Riley?"

     Aaron only kept pointing at Raihan and looked as if he was begging not to leave. Until eventually, he jumped out of her arms and ran to Raihan wrapping his little arms around his leg and nuzzling him.

     "Oh no." He and ___ said in unison.

     Raihan treated them to ice cream and they sat on a bench, unsure of what to do. Aaron sat between them, swinging his little legs as he munched on his snack. Not caring about the trouble he had caused. Her Lucario, Riley, sat on the ground, arms crossed. Looking at Aaron as the disapproving parent he was. 

     She still seemed so quiet and embarrassed about this whole ordeal. So Raihan did his best to break the ice in an attempt to make her more comfortable. "Riley and Aaron are certainly interesting names for pokemon."

     __ looked at him shyly and grinned a little while her Lucario turned its gaze to him. "I guess so. But in my defense, Riley is named after an old friend. The one who gave me his egg in the first place." 

     "I take it that Riley taught you about Auras?" She nodded. "And what about this one?" He pointed at Aaron.

     "This one is named after Sir Aaron. Another Aura user. One of the few recorded ones in history. Definitely the most famous by far."

     Something about that name struck a cord with him. "I've heard of that guy. Stopped a war and saved the tree of beginning, that Sir Aaron?"

     ___ nodded. "The one and only. So you do know a bit about Auras." She said teasingly.

     Raihan shrugged. "We have a few documents on aura users in the vault. Some of them mentioned the guy. But that's the extent of my knowledge." He paused for a moment before adding. "You seem to know a lot though."

     "A fair amount." She replied, taking another lick from the cone in her hand before it started dripping. "Why, is there something you want to know?"

    "I'm a historian by nature, I always want to know." He then winked before adding, "especially when the source is so cute."

     __ blushed before snorting and rolling her eyes. "That has to be the lamest line I've ever heard."

    Raihan laughed. "Can't blame a guy for trying. But there is one thing I am curious about."

    "And what's that?"

    "What is my aura like?" __ looked surprised. "What's with the face? You can't just say I have such a good aura that your pokemon come running and not tell me what's so great about it."

     ___ shook it off. "Sorry, it's just that I don't get asked that a lot. I dont really go around telling people I see auras."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah…" she let out an irritated sigh as she relayed how annoying it could be. "Whenever i talk about Auras most people either think I'm going to talk about the healing properties of crystals and oils next, or think I'm going to read their auras for free and act like it's some kind of fortune telling. Needless to say I dont bring it up often."

     "Oh Arceus, that does sound annoying."

     ___ laughed and took another lick of her ice cream before turning towards him, resting her arm on the back of the bench. "But since you asked nicely…" she paused for what felt like forever, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. Raihan had never felt more exposed then in that moment. Though oddly enough, he found that he did not mind. "Your Aura is strong and vibrant. That much is certain. It's… warm and kind. Yet sturdy. The essence of a protector. If that makes any sense. No wonder Aaron ran to you. He knew he would be safe by your side." Then her lips tilted slightly in a smirk. "You're aura is friend shaped."

     For some reason that made Raihan bust out laughing. "Do I get to be your friend then?" 

     She smiled, "I'd like that very much."

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Eight

Link to Masterpost

A prompt-heavy update, to be sure! This one combines three:

“What are you doing?” “Impromptu dance party.” “It’s three in the morning.”

“You’re weird.” “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

and

Person A is cooking breakfast and sets off the smoke alarm waking up Person B who was still asleep

Enjoy!

~*~*~

Aelin grinned as she quietly closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room. She had just finished her first shift at work without that awful boot that had been a part of her life for eight long weeks, and she couldn’t be happier. Yes, her ankle was aching slightly after a long night on her feet, but it was better than she had feared it would be.

Better still, she knew that she had replaced her stash of snacks just the day before, and Rowan wouldn’t have had time to relocate or get rid of them yet with how busy his work had been keeping him.

Heading for the kitchen, she thumbed open her phone and scrolled through her playlists, selecting one with a smile and pressing shuffle. Upbeat music filled the kitchen as she dug through the cabinets, foot tapping with the beat.

A few seconds later she grinned triumphantly and emerged from the cabinet, fingers clutched around one of the bars of chocolate she’d slipped into the groceries. She had just opened it and was about to take her first bite of sweet victory when she heard a rough voice behind her.

“What are you doing?” Gods, Rowan looked awful, dark circles under dull eyes and hair a complete disaster. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs; perhaps he had fallen asleep at his desk now that she’d given his office back to him.

Regardless, her hips didn’t stop swaying along with the music as she turned to him and smiled. “I’m having an impromptu dance party, obviously.”

“At…” Rowan’s eyes narrowed as he checked the time. “Fuck, three in the morning?”

“I am celebrating my newfound freedom,” she replied seriously.

“You’re going to break your ankle again if you keep stressing it like this, and then where will you be?”

Aelin winked and slid closer to him, still moving to the beat. “I guess I’ll have my big, strong roommate helping me again,” she purred.

Rowan rolled his eyes as she rested her hands on his hips. “You are so weird,” he muttered.

“Mmm, maybe,” Aelin allowed. “Or maybe you’re just basic.”

A single eyebrow lifted on Rowan’s face. “Basic?”

“Yeah, you know. Boring. You have to be aware of the concept, unless you’re an even grumpier and older man than I thought.” It was quite possibly a dangerous thing to say to him, but it was late and she was riding the high of having survived a night without that damned boot. Hopefully he’d understand.

“There’s a difference between being boring and not dancing at three in the morning.”

“Says you,” she grinned. “I bet you don’t even dance when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Of course not,” he replied. “I work when it’s not three in the morning.”

“Seems to me like you were working at three in the morning,” she accused. “I know that’s normal for me, but it can’t be for you.”

“It depends on the work. I’m covering for someone else right now, so I’ve got more on my plate than normal.”

“How long have you been awake?” Aelin asked, suddenly curious.

Rowan frowned. “Long enough to hate everything about this.”

“So, what, twenty minutes?”

He snorted. Gods, he must have been exhausted for her to get an actual laugh out of him. “Try ‘since about this time yesterday’,” he admitted.

“What? No, Rowan, that’s way too long for people who aren’t either in college or working weird shifts. Did you fall asleep at your desk? Because you look like you fell asleep at your desk.” Without even thinking about what she was doing, Aelin ran her fingers through the tangle of his hair to start taming it.

His fingers encircled her wrist, and she stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t fall asleep at my desk.”

Just then, the music playing from her phone switched from something that was merely suggestive to something that was outwardly dirty, and she broke away from him and fumbled with the device, hoping to stop it before he noticed exactly what the lyrics were.

She was obviously unsuccessful, though, for he almost doubled over laughing. “I didn’t realize it was that kind of dance party.”

Gods, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “It wasn’t. The playlist was on shuffle.”

“Aelin, that means you had to have picked that playlist. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Fuck, but she hated living with a man who analyzed word choice for a living. “I forgot that was on there. And I’m not having this argument with you right now.”

“So when are we having this argument?” he grinned. “I want to be prepared.”

“When you’ve slept, Rowan, for fuck’s sake.” With that she began physically herding him up the stairs. “Come on, go.”

When they reached the doorway to the room he had taken over from Aedion, she leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded against her chest. He moved toward the dresser and opened a drawer, glancing back at her. “Do you mind?”

“No, not at all, as long as you’re getting to sleep,” she replied.

He cleared his throat. “Aelin?”

“Yes?”

“Get out.”

“Oh!” Gods, she had completely misinterpreted what he was saying. “Oh, I’ll, um…”

She shifted away from the door, and before she could figure out what on earth to say to him he had closed the door—surprisingly gently—in her face.

“Um, good night, I guess,” she finally managed.

“Good night, Aelin,” he called through the door.

Well, fuck. With that embarrassment behind her, she turned to her own room to hopefully settle down for the night and not replay that conversation for hours on end.

~*~*~

Aelin woke up earlier than usual the next morning to a silent house.

The silence in itself wasn’t unusual; Rowan was a very quiet housemate even when he was home. A check of her calendar reminded her that it was Saturday, meaning he was likely either on one of his habitual runs through the neighborhood or holed up in his office pretending that working on weekends was a thing that normal people in his position did. Just in case it was the latter, she made sure to keep as quiet as she could while she slipped into a t-shirt dress and crept down the stairs.

The office was silent, the door opening to an empty room, which meant that either he was out running or he was somehow still asleep. A glance at the doorway showed his running shoes tucked exactly where he always left them.

Stunned, Aelin sat on the couch to collect herself. She couldn’t recall a time she’d actually woken up before Rowan; the opposition of their schedules usually meant that he was the early bird and she the night owl. However, this meant she had a chance to enact a plan she’d been idly thinking about for weeks now.

Rowan had done so much for her the past few weeks, picking up the slack in the household chores without once complaining about it and regularly cooking for her as well. She’d wanted to do something in return for so long, and now that her ankle was healed and he wasn’t awake to stop her an idea came to her.

She silently slid into the kitchen, carefully opening cabinet doors until she found a nonstick pan with a quiet noise of triumph. That went on the stovetop, and a small bowl and a whisk were next on her list. Soon those were sitting on the countertop beside the stove, and she was looking up video tutorials on cooking.

She had watched Rowan scramble eggs so many times now. How hard could it possibly be?

The pan went over heat with some oil in it, and then she pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. He always made two for her, but should he get a third? Would he even want a third?

Aelin realized she was now staring at the carton and didn’t know how long she had been staring at the carton. With a sigh, she shook her head. She’d barely begun and she was already overthinking it. How typical. Two eggs it was.

She cracked them into the bowl, cheering silently when she managed to do it relatively neatly, and soon she had whisked them up into a unified frothy mass of yellow liquid. Perfect. Just like the video, and just like when Rowan did it.

Belatedly, she realized she would need a spatula on hand to stir the eggs, and searched through the drawers until she found one. Then it was time to add the eggs to the pan.

She stifled a yelp as the pan hissed angrily with the addition of the eggs, steam rising hot and fast—or, fuck, was that smoke? She poked at the eggs timidly with the spatula, revealing the already-blackened underside of them in a hissing release of—yes, that was smoke. Fuck. She’d ruined it.

Time seemed to slow almost to a halt as the pan hissed and sizzled before her, pouring out amounts of dark grey smoke that really shouldn’t have been possible for such a small amount of—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound entered her awareness dimly at first, as fixated as she was on the pan in front of her. When it finally registered, though, she yelped and tossed the pan at the sink, hoping that would stop everything from getting even worse. It landed with a clatter, but even that couldn’t outdo the piercing shriek of the smoke detector. Fuck, it would wake Rowan up, she had to figure out how to stop it.

She dragged a chair over from their little dining nook and clambered on top of it, frantically waving underneath it to clear whatever little sensor had gotten overloaded. The air was slowly clearing, and she was just starting to hope that she might actually succeed in this futile venture until she heard the sound of running feet and a shout from the stairway. “Aelin!”

Shit. She was in deep and unending shit, with no way to talk her way out of it.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan

[choerrypuffs]

ok i was filling out luvdsc's form n i went on a whole rant about ur jeno demigod fic bc i just finished it so i just thought id spam u here too bc oml. first off thank u for posting it idk how long it's been up there but the pure Joy of checking ur acc & finding it: unmatched. second off sweet god im a sucker for bff2l but. that fic. made me a e2l believer i can't. i cannot. your worldbuilding (not just the author's, your contribution n integration of urs into it too) is so impeccable and the way every scene is mapped out so clearly u can effortlessly see it play out in ur head without even trying is just so. so pleasing.

- maybe im a hopeless romantic, maybe it's the disconnected world, maybe it's your writing (most definitely) but it just feels like this fic itself, not the story, is from a different time in the best possible way. it's just so raw and honest and while these days picture perfect writing is wonderful, your way of passing on images and scenes to readers makes it feel like more than just an picture box, idk how else to describe it but i felt so many things while reading n that's how yk a piece of writing is good: if u question ur life after it lol

sry for the spam, final msg i promise: but i can't imagine how much effort n dedication you put into that series. it's really inspiring. it's nice to read something this intense again. from the character growth to the funny bits to the way those two meat heads felt about each other n got us feeling in the process to that last scene, you've done a really lovely job on this n i can only hope you're as proud of it as we are happy to read, tysm n goodluck on wtv uve got planned next <33

wow i think this is the nicest ask i think i've ever received about my writing??? i am so floored that i genuinely am at a loss for words rn except thank you so so so so much ??? my mind is all over the place bc this ask has made me so happy but wow i've tried my best to gather my thoughts into a coherent response and i apologize if it's all over the place

first, i am SO excited that i have successfully converted you into an e2l believer as that is the superior trope 🧎‍♀️ and pls you are too kind !!! i'm so honored that you're praising my worldbuilding so highly omg you make my writing seem so much cooler than it is 🥺 the og pjo books can never be beaten, but i really tried to create that sense of community throughout the fics and i wanted to make sure the fics all connected with each other so that it truly felt like one universe (hence all the easter eggs) !! it makes me really happy that you were able to visualize the scenes in your head because i struggle with writing descriptions A LOT so i mulled over those for a while 💀 ESPECIALLY for jeno's fic because there was so much happening in it and more location changes than any fic i've ever written

FKJALKEL IM GONNA CRY OMFG IM SUCH A WRECK RN BC THIS IS HONESTLY ONE OF THE HIGHEST HONORS A WRITER COULD RECEIVE 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i wish i could express how grateful i am with more than just saying thank you but THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!! my goal is always to evoke any sort of emotion from my readers, even if it’s just a laugh so to hear you express how you felt during the fic makes me feel so accomplished 💗💗💗

DONT APOLOGIZE OMG YOUR MESSAGE MADE MY DAY I HOPE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU TAKING THE TIME TO TALK ABOUT MY FIC ON CAT’S FORM AND TO LEAVING SUCH A KIND ASK IN MY INBOX 🥰💗💖💞💓💘💝💟✨🌷🌸 my period must be coming bc i am legit teary eyed as i’m typing rn 😩 and yes even though i like to complain about how much i suffered writing the series, i am genuinely proud of it but i’m even prouder of all the love and support i’ve gotten over this long ass journey 🥺 you guys have been nothing but lovely to me and hype me up even when i feel like my writing is shit and i hope you know how much that means to me <33333 not to get all sappy but thank you again ilysm ❤️❤️❤️

[xpoolboy]

my thoughts on the egg plot

okay so first of all, i do really like the egg plot. it's a new type of story (fantasy) and bbh has clearly put in a lot of work to it, but it does have a few major issues, one of which is that no one wants their character to be effected by the egg, no one wants their character to be the villain. there's only like what, four people heavily effected by the egg? and bbh has tried to bring more people to be infected by it, but the same thing happens every time. they get close to the egg, they're like "this egg shit is weird, im getting out of here" and then they dramatically narrowly escape or something. we havent gotten someone new being fully infected for awhile now. 

 this also leads into another issue, how much people have to dumb down their characters to be effected or even get close to being effected by the egg. for example there's been like what, 3? 4? times now that characters have gone in the eggpire base thing and bbh or ant has tried to send them down the hole to the egg. at this point, it should be common knowledge on the smp that "hey, dont go into that creepy egg building because the eggpire people can trap you!" same thing with sam being asked to stand in a specific spot, drop his valuables that he could use to potentially escape things, and not noticing the button. i understand it's for the plot, but i feel like they should come up with a better way than this so that people dont have to make their character not notice half the stuff that they should notice. same thing with the soul fire, To be fair, technically sam was the only one who canonically knows and isnt on the eggpire's side, but like. why didnt he tell anyone? if they want the egg gone so badly, why are they just sitting by idlely while it takes over the server? even if they dont know the soul fire thing, they can just hoe it and it takes like no time.

another thing, tubbo and fundy for some reason bringing dreamons into this? HUH? i just don’t understand why people (ranboo half dreamon theorists, im looking at you) still keep bringing up dreamon stuff and making it relevant to the plot when it was three streams back in like august, four or five months ago. they were fan favorite streams, but i’ve seen so many newer fans ask what a dreamon even is. it makes no sense to me why tubbo and fundy would bring up dreamons and try to relate them to the egg plot, and it kinda rubs me the wrong way because i feel like its a bit encroaching on the plot that bbh has laid out, and they’re just trying to bring their own plot into it. Tubbo and Fundy both got involved with the egg plot VERY recently, and they’ve also been very lightly involved so far (same with sapnap, the other dreamon hunter) especially compared to the other people of the badlands.

in conclusion:  the egg plot is good, but it has some flaws in that no one wants to be infected and be a villain, that the eggpire isnt really that powerful in itself and needs people to kinda dumb down their characters to make it fit, and also i hate dreamons

[yikesharringrove]

Changing the theme a bit, since I saw you dont hate Jonathan thank goddd, maybe Jonathan having to ask Steve and Billy for tips because he's aro or ace? Or something he knows Lonnie wouldve actually killed him for, which Billy gets and Steve is fully willing to help soft Jonathon be a THING and they are just his gay mentors and mayhaps. Nancy just doesnt get it and it gets messy and Will just stands up for his brother in full anger and slams the door in her face and hugs jon so tight he falls

Steve is sex-positive ace, Billy is sex-repulsed, and Jon is greyace bc I’ve gotten so many messages about how many people were affected positively by showing ace diversity in that one drabble I wrote, so we’re keeping this goin’ because you’re ALL VALID. 😤

-

Jonathan had been crashing on their couch for a week and a half and has yet to say anything about the situation more than Nancy and I had a fight.

Billy and Steve didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. Jonathan was obviously fucking heartbroken over whatever the fight had been about, but they didn’t wanna pry.

“Thank you guys for taking me in. I’m sorry, I’ve probably been cramping your style.” Steve just shook his head, serving three plates of eggs and toast.

“There’s not a lot of style going on in this apartment for you to cramp.” Steve smiled at him as he placed the plates on the table. Jonathan gave him an odd look.

“What do you, what do you mean?”

“We don’t really fuck.” Billy was always the blunt one. Jonathan’s fork clattered to the table.

“You don’t, why not?”

“Neither of us are really into it.” Jonathan looked like he could fucking cry.

“Me neither. That’s what the fight was. Nancy kept asking why we don’t have sex, and if I stopped loving her, and I do! I love her so much, but I just, sometimes I feel that way about her, but I usually don’t, and I’m so fucking confused.” Steve reached out, placing a firm hand on Jonathan’s arm.

“Jon, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t think we’ve had sex in like, a year?” Billy nodded.

“It was before we actually talked about how we both felt about it.”

“And is that-” Jonathan trailed off, but they got it. Is that like me.

“I don’t mind sex. If I’m with someone who wants to have it, I can be cool with that, but I don’t always get off, and it’s more about making the other person feel good, or using it as another way to be like, intimate. But I don’t really think about it, and I can definitely go without.”

“I actively don’t like fucking. I kinda think sex is, is fucking gross. I mean, you do you and all that, but like, every time I had sex it just, it made me feel gross.” He pulled a face.

“I just, I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel for her, honestly.” Jonathan ran a hand down his face. “Sometimes, sometimes it just feels like a fucking chore. And she just, she kinda confronted me about it, and I probably could’ve worded it better, but she got so angry, and hurt, and we just, we decided to take some time apart.” He pushed the eggs around his plate. “And there are some situations that I just, I want it with her so badly, but most, most of the time I just, I just want to be with her, like just spend time with her. And she, she’s never been very good at being sensitive about things, or, or, sympathetic, and she just, she made me feel fucking broken. Like there was something wrong with me.”

“First of all, fuck her for making you feel like that.” Billy had one eyebrow raised.

“Bill-”

“No. Jonathan, you are not broken, and it sucks she made you feel that way. If she can’t be in a relationship that respects your boundaries, then she is not the one.”

Steve sighed.

“Jon, Bill’s right. A relationship should be safe. She should be more mindful of your boundaries and feelings, and should not be making you feel bad for those things. I’m not saying you should like, dump her-”

“I am.” Steve batted a hand at Billy.

“-but, if you have an open conversation with her, and nothing changes, then you are always welcome here.” Steve squeezed his arm again.

-

The talk with Nancy had been bad.

She had taken everything really personally, said that Jonathan needed to sort out his priorities and to let her know when he’s attracted to her again.

And he tried, he tried so hard to explain the way he felt, that it all comes and goes like the fucking tide, but she had put her foot down.

So he showed up back to Billy and Steve’s apartment with two more suitcases and tears in his eyes.

“I just, I know I can fake it when I need to, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“Because forcing yourself to do shit like that sucks. Fuck Nancy for being a bitch. Figure yourself out, and then find someone who respects your boundaries.”

Billy was pacing in front of the sofa, talking sharply, pointing at Jonathan a lot. Steve had one arm over his shoulders.

“You deserve respect, Jon. And you deserve to feel safe and happy in a relationship.”.

-

He couldn’t sleep that first night.

The fight was circling in his head, over and over and over and over-

He heard the bedroom door open, and someone creep out through the living room and into the kitchen.

He looked over the back of the couch, saw a bleary eyed Steve filling a glass of water for himself, wearing one of Billy’s faded band shirts, and a pair of panties.

Jonathan laid back down before Steve could see him looking.

-

The next morning, he found himself staring at Steve.

He had put shorts on, and even a chunky cardigan while he made breakfast, but Jonathan knew.

“Can I, can I talk to you about something?” Steve smiled brightly at him. “I, um, I noticed you coming out here last night.” Steve just nodded, a look of recognition in his eyes.

“You wondering about panties?”

“Um, yeah.” Steve shrugged. “I just like ‘em. And it’s not like, a sexual thing. Sometimes they make me feel sexy, but that’s not what it’s about. I just like them. Have a lot of women’s thing.”

“What about them do you like?” Steve shrugged again.

“It’s hard to describe. I’ve never felt like, super masculine. Like, big macho tough guy, I wanna hunt and never talk about my feelings.” Steve put on a stupid-sounding deep voice for his macho man. “And I mean, not all men are like that, but that’s kind of how you’re expected to be. And women are expected to be pretty and delicate, and I’ve always related to that more. Women’s clothes help me feel that way.”

“I’ve, um, I’ve always felt that too. Not necessarily the kinda, pretty and delicate part, but the, not feeling connected to masculinity and like, what’s expected from you.” Steve set down a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Jonathan, putting one down for himself as well, and one in Billy’s empty space.

“Hold that thought, I’m gonna grab Billy. He doesn’t like it when I yell for him.” Steve patted him on the arm, and was gone for a few minutes before he returned with Billy in tow.  “Okay, Jonathan. Please continue.”

“Well, not much to say. I feel like my dad kinda always shoved that like, macho man shit on me. Would take me hunting and stuff and I just never liked it.”

“Jesus, mine did that shit too. Not with hunting, but he was all about men having their place, and women having their place.” Billy took an aggressive bite of his bacon.

“Mine was too! I got sad once when I shot a rabbit, and he called me a pussy for like, a week.”

“When my dad was layin’ into me, if he ever saw my cry, it would just get that much worse.” They were nodding at one another, trading shitty dad stories back and forth. “He would like, get mad if I helped my mom cook and shit, too.”

“God, it’s like we had the fuckin’ same dad.” Billy raised his mug at Jonathan. “It’s hard to break outta that shit, even though he’s not in your life, anymore.”

“I think so, too. I haven;t seen him in years, but every time I do something he would’ve thought was too soft, I can still hear him in my head. And you know, that’s one of the things I like about Nancy. She’s really hard, and tough, and never expected me to be that way.” And he knows that in the end, Nancy was bad news for him, not being able to love and accept him, but that aspect of their relationship was so nice, so easy.

“There doesn’t always have to be both. I mean, Steve’s more outwardly soft, but we’re both real mushy at our cores. There doesn’t have to be a big tough one and a sweet soft one. Sometimes you have elements of both and you make it work.”

“You just have to find the balance within yourself, I think. And learn to embrace the parts of you that are soft and the parts that are hard.” Jonathan was nodding vigorously at Steve. “And it’s always different. I love getting to feel soft and pretty in a dress or something, whereas Billy finds ways to be soft by taking care of things, like me and all the plants.”

“Do you think, do you think you could help me? Find that, I mean.”

“Of course! Just think of the things you already feel, things that feel right when you do them, and that’s a good starting point. And maybe that’s your photography, and maybe it’s something else.”

So they let Jonathan experiment with things to find his softness.

He would help Billy tend to the fucking garden they had on the balcony, or bake with Steve. He took a million pictures, and Steve was thriving under the camera, would put on make up and something pretty and pose around the apartment.

It was just nice.

Getting to live with these two, and train himself not to be ashamed, it was nice.

Will would come and visit quite often, and he and Jonathan spent a wonderful Saturday evening coming out to each other, and validating the ever loving shit out of one another.

Billy and Steve came home to the two brothers hugging one another on the couch and trying to hold back tears.

Steve had inserted himself into the hug while Billy patted each one of them on the head and started making dinner.

But he figured of course this would happen.

His perfect little cocoon would crumble apart at some point.

Will had come over, and Steve and Billy had gone out to dinner together, leaving the two of them to order pizza and have a movie night.

It was great, hanging out with his brother like when they were little, not a fucking care in the world.

There was a knock at the door.

“Jon, it’s me. It’s Nancy. Can we talk” Jonathan’s heart stuttered to a halt in his chest.

Will was staring at the door like maybe he could set it on fire if he glared hard enough.

Jonathan sighed, opening the door to face his fate.

“Are you seriously still mad at me?”

“Yes.” She huffed.

“C’mon. Come back home.”

“Nancy, I can’t. Not if you’re not going to respect me.”

“We were fine. I don’t know why we can’t just go back to the way we were-”

“Because I was forcing myself to do things I was uncomfortable with just to make you happy.”

“Relationships are compromise, Jonathan.”

“I know that, but when I brought up to you what wasn’t working, you refused to listen. I was the only one forfeiting my boundaries and comfort in that relationship, and I deserve more.” She rolled her eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Jonathan, this is-” Will was shoving Jonathan back, stepping between the two.

“Nancy, he’s done talking to you about this. Unless you can respect that he doesn’t always feel that way, then move the fuck on.” He slammed the door right in her face. “You don’t need her.”

Jonathan was gobsmacked. Will had never spoken to anyone like that, at least not that Jonathan’s every seen.

“Why did you...?” He trailed off, still staring at the door.

“She was pissing me off. You’re right. You compromised everything in that relationship and she couldn’t even give you the bare minimum.”

Jonathan swept Will up, hugging him as tight as he possibly could.

“Thank you.”

“You deserve better than her.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[obikenobis]

INTERVIEW GAME 

i was tagged by @mandah-lorian​ !!! thank you so much kiana!!! 💖💖💖

nickname: i umm....don’t really have one i guess lmaoo, my brother and i call each other noob so much that it’s basically a nickname so i’ll just count that

pronouns: she/her 

star sign: im a leo (even tho 90% of the time i dont feel like it lol)

height: 5′2 :(

time currently: 5:13 pm

birthday: august 14th!!

favorite groups/bands: i listen to a lot of Mumford & Sons, Snow Patrol, All Time Low, Coldplay, I guess The Beatles, The Decemberists, The Killers, Aly & AJ (their music fucking slaps) and if i add any more it’ll be wayyy too much lol

favorite solo artist: TAYLOR SWIFT i’ve been a fan since i was 7 years old, Lorde, Phoebe Bridgers, beabadoobee, Regina Spektor, Sleeping at Last (who is technically a solo artist i think,) Noah Reid, Julien Baker, the list goes on

song stuck in my head: THAT DUMB CHUG JUG FORTNITE SONG ITS BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS

last movie you watched: lmao robots (2005) because it’s an anti-capitalist cinematic masterpiece and also ewan mcgregor’s in it (the whole movie is basically just ewan fake screaming with an american accent sjdfkhs)

last show you binged: i’m binging how i met your mother right now because it’s been a looong time since i’ve watched it so i thought why not

when you created your blog: damn i literally made this sideblog in february so this blog is still pretty fresh, but i’ve been on tumblr since 2013

last thing i googled: “how to get anvil minecraft” ..............

other blogs: my main is @laleelawadee !! and i’ve got a marvel sideblog that i should probably use more lmao @eliizabetholsens 

why i chose my url: when i first made this blog i was just sort of absentmindedly typing in a bunch of semi-canon names, not expecting any of them to stick, and of course my fav man is obi-wan so i was trying some obi names and this one was somehow available lmaoo

do you get asks: i mean i usually expect zero asks so the fact that i’ve actually gotten some is a surprise to me lol

how many people you are following: 209

how many followers: 625 seriously yall im blown away thank you!!

average hours of sleep: it’s either 4 hours or 11 hours there is no in between

lucky number: 14!! im basic and it’s just my birthdate lol

instruments: i play the ukulele!! i’ve got two—an ebony wood one and a pretty teal one <3

currently wearing: a blue striped shirt, some jeans, my taylor swift cardigan and my one ring necklace lmao

dream job: a graphic novelist or a storyboard artist at disney/cartoon network :) 

dream trip: i’ve technically been in tokyo.....’s airport, but i wanna actually go to tokyo and explore the city!! also anywhere in europe really, like scotland or ireland!!

favorite food: spaghetti #1 (my dad makes this tomato vinegar sauce thats SO good) and literally anything with rice: eggs with rice, nuggets with rice, shrimp with rice, chicken with rice, squid with rice, i can go on forever

favorite song: saturn by sleeping at last, a truly gorgeous song that hits me with a shockwave of emotions every single time

top 3 fictional worlds to live in: oh star wars ofc, but also middle earth!!! and umm third world, skyrim i guess lol, i wanna be a khajiit 

(no pressure!!) tagging: @emilykenobi @myonly-hope @obihoekenobi @kenobismullet @radiantskywalker @reyobi-wan (also if you’ve done this before feel free to just ignore this lol)

[fardell24b]

Quinn’s Code - The Geek Hunter - Conclusion

The Geek Hunter Conclusion

A quarter minute later, Kristen and Tiffany came up to the other three. Stacy had stopped crying, but she still looked miserable. “Sta-cy?”

 “Why would Sandi do this to me? Why?”

 Tiffany just stood there, without a word. But she did place a hand on her arm and gave a small smile. That seemed to comfort Stacy a little.

 “Right, we have Sandi and Tori to deal with,” Quinn said.

 “Go ahead!” Stacy said.

 “Are you sure?” Quinn asked.

 “Yes!”

  Sandi could hear them talking, but couldn't make out the words. She turned to Tori while keeping an eye on the spot where Stacy had entered the bushes. “They're about to attack. Do I have you at my back?”

 “That is your plan? We go back to back?” Tori asked, dubiously. It seemed that she didn't trust Sandi.

 “Yes,” Sandi answered. 'I have no other idea!' she thought.

 “I have a few other ideas, but I'll go with yours,” Tori said. She approached Sandi. They adopted a fighting stance, back to back. Sandi briefly wondered what Tori's ideas were but then focused on the task at hand...

  Kristen had returned to her original position, while Cindy moved in the other direction. They waited for Quinn to make her move...

  Quinn breathed deeply. 'Deep breath. One. Two. Three.' She breathed deeply again. “Here we go!” she said, quietly, eyeing Sandi through the foliage.

  She had waited for half a minute. “Come on, Geekendorffer! I know you're there!” Sandi said, trying to egg her on.

 “Sandi!” Tori hissed. Sandi was giving away her position. 'You are going about this all wrong!'

 “I'm ready!”

 Quinn emerged from the foliage.

  Sandi saw Quinn emerge from the foliage. She smiled. “Prepare for pain, Geekendorffer!” She pulled the trigger...

 Several things happened at once...

 Tori saw something that Sandi wasn't noticing. “Sandi!” She said in an annoyed tone.

 Unknown to Sandi, Cindy and Kristen had emerged from the bushes, having already aimed their paintguns at her torso.

 'She's focused on Quinn,' Kristen thought. She opened fire. So did Cindy.

 As she called out Sandi's name, Tori twisted round in Cindy's direction, but she fell down, before she could aim at her. Therefore, she was in Cindy and Kristen's crossfire!

 Thump! Thump! Both paintballs hit come. Then another two. Sandi winced at the pain. But Quinn was in her sights, so she ignored it.

  Quinn saw that Sandi was still gunning for her (so to speak), so she dashed back into the bushes as quickly as possible.

  Tori saw that Sandi was still going for Quinn. “Sandi! No!” She stood up, and ran to intercept Sandi.

  Tori, Cindy and Kristen all tackled Sandi at the same time. Sandi fell down, Tori falling on her lower body, Kristen, and then Cindy on her upper body. “Oof!” Tori felt both the other two on either side of her.

Quinn, Tiffany and Stacy looked at the scene. It looked like Sandi was still struggling.

 “Oh no!” Stacy said.

 “Be ready to run,” Quinn said.

 Stacy nodded.

 “Sandi! Face it, you've lost!” Kristen said with a grunt!

 “No! I will defeat that Geekendorffer!” Sandi said as she squirmed.

 “Her name is Morgendorffer. Show some respect!” Cindy said.

 “No!”

 Cindy called out to Quinn. “Quinn, run, go! We may not hold her for much longer.”

  Quinn heard Cindy's direction. “Sure. I'll catch you later! Bye!” She gave a Stacy an apologetic look and ran off.

  Sandi heard Quinn run off. She stopped struggling. “Oh! Get off me! She's gotten away!” she said with tears.

 “How are we to know that you aren't going to follow her?” Kristen asked.

 “I don't know where she's gone! You can take my paintgun!”

 Kristen looked to Cindy, and Tori. They nodded and got off Sandi. Tori seized the paintgun from her grasp. She pointed in the direction opposite to where Quinn had gone. “Go!”

 Sandi ran off. In tears. “I may have lost today, Le-ung-Bell and Brolsma! But I will be triumphant!” She said just before disappearing into the bushes.

 “Well, there's that crisis averted,” Tori said. She brandished both paintguns at Kristen and Cindy. “But there is still a friendly competition here.”

 “Wait!” Kristen said.

 “Yes?” Tori asked.

 “Wait until we're back in the bushes, right?” Cindy asked.

 “Sure,” Tori said.

 Kristen and Cindy retreated.

 Soon, they engaged in the paintball game again, unworried about the threat that Sandi might have posed to Quinn. Soon, it began to rain...

 Sandi as she ran off, fell into one of the underground tunnels...

  Daria, Jane and Jennifer, rather soaked, arrived at the Great White Shark.

“We're here to see the Great White Shark.”

 “Oh, it's a beauty aint it,” the lady behind the counter said.

 The three teens looked at the exhibit. “That's it?” Jennifer asked.

 “It's a tooth,” Daria stated.

 “You wouldn't say, 'it's a tooth,' if you know the legend of Great White,” the lady, Jordana, said.

  “...Until Great White was captured two months ago, he terrorised the eastern seaboard, chomping on tourists and spitting them out like bad red wine.”

 “Excellent,” Jane said.

 “I'd say she has watched Jaws too many times,” Jennifer whispered to Daria.

 Daria nodded.

 “What was that?” Jordana asked.

 “Nothing,” Jennifer said, loud enough for Jordana to hear.

 Jordana continued. “It was the peak of tourist season, when a mangled body washed up on shore, scaring the beachcombers...”

  Back at the paintball range. Cindy and Kristen found Quinn at the Hanoi Hilton. “So, what happened with Tori?” she asked.

 “We got her,” Cindy said with a slightly triumphant tone.

 “Gamer Chicks; 1. Fashion Club; 0!” Quinn said with a giggle.

  “...Of course, the mayor claimed that the chewed-up bodies were the victims of a propeller, but the people knew better...”

 Daria had had enough. “Excuse me, but isn't this the plot of Jaws?”

 “No, no! This is completely different. That's when they called in the great white shark hunter. That's when they called in... me.”

  Meanwhile, Helen and Ms. Li were talking. “I'm glad to see you take such an interest in your daughters, Mrs. Morgendorffer.”

 “Well, it isn't easy rasing two teenagers all by yourself... With Jake.”

 “Of course, I'd like to think the school environment also plays a pivotal role.”

 “Absolutely. Although it would be nice if the students got a little more encouragement. Maybe bright kids like Daria and Quinn would have a better attitude and better focus respectively.”

 Ms, Li laughed.

 “Did I say something funny?” Helen asked.

 “With all due respect, I can't think of a prison that could create an attitude like your older daughter's much less a school. No, I always assumed that came from interaction with her parents, or lack of it.”

 That riled Helen up. “Oh, so you draw a distinction between prison and school. Because from what I've heard, you run the one pretty much like the other.”

 Ms. Li was angered in turn. “I don't have to listen to this!”

 “No, you dont!” Helen shot back.

 “And by the way, you look fifty!” Li said she left the tent.

  When the rain stopped, Daria, Jane and Jennifer left the 'Great White Shark' exhibit, without Jordana noticing...

  They arrived back at the buses in time. But Sandi didn't.

 As the School Bus's pulled out, Sandi ran out shouting. “NNNooooooo!” She fell down in a puddle of mud. As she looked at one of the buses, she saw Tori and Stacy turn away from her in the back seat...

[tomthesoftie]

admitting pt.2

a/n: bro, i dont know how i keep writing these long fics but i cant end this yet... so this turned into a series.,, please dont attack me lol... also i realize this isn’t rly like enemies, like at all... oops

pairing: enemies to lovers!tom x reader

warnings: straight up fluff, one sexual innuendo, Tom being the adorkable dorkous he is

! previous part !

masterlist

You awoke the next morning, not remembering how you got back to your room. Thinking back, you only remembered being carried by a pair of muscular arms. You reminded yourself to ask and thank whoever brought you back.

You were still in the clothes you wore the day before, so the first thing you did was take a warm shower. While you were in there, you mind wandered back to last night. Who had carried you back to your room? Was it Harry? Sure, Harry was muscular, but not that muscular. Could it’ve been Tom? No way. You felt yourself flush at the thought. 

You stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off before putting on a black camisole top paired with high waisted, medium wash jeans. You added a brown, faux fur jacket to top it off. 

You could hear fumbling from the first floor of the home, so you assumed that some of the Hollands had already woken up. You decided to join and help them, being that you were already awake. 

“Morning,” you said gleefully, hopping down the stairs.

“Hey, what are you doing up so early?” The deep British voice rang through your ears.

Tom.

“I could say the same to you,” you threw back, admiring the defined biceps and back muscles.

“Touché,” Tom was walking around the kitchen, looking for certain ingredients. Having nothing to do, you offered, “Need any help? I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, finally turning to look at you. He looked dumbstruck. He was admiring your outfit, looking you up and down. Your curves were accentuated by the tight clothes you were wearing. He wanted to grab you by your waist and just kiss you. He shook his head, waving the thought away, telling himself to keep it together.

“So, what’re you making?” You asked, peeking at the cluster of ingredients behind him.

“Just waffles and eggs,” he said, breaking his gaze at you.

“Waffles? Why waffles? They’re literally just pancakes with muscles,” you giggled, “nobody likes to eat muscles, they like to eat the meat.”

Tom choked on his spit, coughing a bit. His ears turning a bright red and blood rushing down south.

“Oh my gosh! That’s not what I meant! Get your mind out of the gutter, you div,” this playful banter between you and Tom was new. You’ve never had a normal conversation with him. Usually, the two of you were ignoring or throwing insults at one another.

The two of you made breakfast together in peace, music softly played in the background. Neither one of you would admit to sneakily glancing at each other when you had the chance. 

“Good morning, Y/N/N. You wanna model for some of my pictures later? You can come along if you want, Tom,” Harry said, plopping onto the couch.

“Sure, sounds fun,” you answered, before snapping back, “now get your butt off the couch and come help. Even Tom, Tom, is doing some work!”

“Hey,” he chuckled, lightly nudging your arm. The reaction shocked you. He didn’t snap back like he usually would.

You heard Harry groaning in the living room before dragging himself into the kitchen to help the two of you.

“So, how many arguments have you two had today?” Harry whispered into your ear.

“Surprisingly, none. I have no idea why Tom’s being so nice to me now,” you whispered back.

“What are the two of you gossiping about? It better not be about me,” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Heh, we would never,” Harry said, moving to grab 6 plates.

Breakfast goes by smoothly. Nikki had asked you a couple of questions, asking if you had started dating anyone or if you had a college in mind. Dom had told her to let you eat and to stop bugging you, though you told him it wasn’t any burden. After the meal, Harry dashed up the stairs to grab his camera.

“Let’s get going, Y/N. Tom, you coming?” Harry asked as he appeared from the stairs.

“Yeah, sure,” Tom blatantly replied.

“Good, you’re driving, then,” Harry tossed Tom’s car keys at him.

“Get ready for a long day, Y/N/N,” Harry cheered.

You giggled, hopping into the grey Audi R8. Harry sat in the front passenger seat, turning to face you for any opportunity of a photo. 

“Where we going,” Tom asked, selecting navigation on his car. 

“Anywhere with lots of trees and nature,” Harry said, all focus on you.

Tom backed out of the driveway, driving you to the unknown location. The light wind combined with the force of the moving car pushed your hair back. It was flowing freely in the wind and Harry took it as an invitation to take photos. You were watching the cars pass with a blur, admiring the beauty of Kingston. 

When you arrived at the destination, it was surrounded with nature. There were no parking spaces, only empty dirt patches. Tom chose a random space and parked the car there.

“It’s beautiful,” you said in awe.

“Wait ‘til we get in the forest,” Tom said, smirking, proud of the reaction he’d gotten from you.

Tom was right. From within the forest, it felt like an entirely different world. You roamed the space, stroking the bark of the trees, examining the variations of colors on the leaves. It wasn’t even autumn, yet these leaves were bursting different colors.

Harry was behind you, taking more pictures of you in your normal state. He let you look around for a bit before telling you to pose and take the pictures. The lighting was extraordinary, making your skin glow. None of the pictures Harry took did your natural beauty justice, but he could still sense the joy radiating off of you.

Tom, on the other hand, was standing off to the side, admiring your every angle. He couldn’t believe how attracted to you he had gotten. Within 2 years, he went from absolutely despising you to falling deeply in love with you.

A giggle fell from your plump, pink lips as you posed playfully. Tom couldn’t help but gush over you. Everything about you was perfect. 

The man was whipped and he wouldn’t admit it, not to himself or you.

! next part !

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Habushu

Hey remember when @hiss-and-vinegar came over this weekend to hang out in a room and get drunk with Alastor? Yeah well things got unexpectedly fluffy. They really are doing an enemies-to-friends speedrun.

If the read more doesn't work then I'm sorry but it's not my fault because tumblr did it.

Sir Pentious

Pentious actually ISN'T drunk when he arrives, thank goodness. He slithers in like he owns the place, as one does. Tucked under an arm is an enormous picnic basket, and he's looking very proud of himself.

Alastor

"Right on time!" Alastor says that like they'd actually scheduled a time. He doesn't have an offering of food, but he does have a bottle of bourbon. He half offers it with an apologetic shrug and says, "If you'd warned me sooner that you were bringing food, I would have whipped something up too." Maybe next time.

He twirls a key ring with a single room key around a finger. "Shall we?"

Sir Pentious

Oh nooo dont' tell him that, Alastor. Now he's giving you the MOST smug face that he can muster.

"OH, DEAR, ALASTOR!!! WERE YOU CAUGHT OFF GUARD BY ME??? I SHALL CHERISH THIS VICTORY."

He is. Kidding? He slithers forward, and takes the bottle, before handing off the Very Heavy picnic basket to the stickbug Alastor.

"IF YOU ARE SSSSTILL HUNGRY AFTER THISSS, THEN WE COULD WHIP UP SSSOMETHING TOGETHER, BUT I DOUBT WE WILL HAVE TO."

Alastor

Joke's on Sir Pentious, maybe Alastor likes the smug face. Maybe he wanted Sir Pentious to be smug.

"Perhaps next time you'd cherish homemade snacks a little more?" The stickbug is stronger than his toothpick arms would suggest, but his eyebrows still shoot up a little at the weight of the basket. He supposes extra food WOULD be superfluous, wouldn't it? But he hefts it gamely and gestures toward the stairs. "Second floor, first door on the right."

His hopes soar at the thought of cooking with Sir Pentious. He can probably feign hunger. His stomach's nigh on bottomless.

Sir Pentious

Pentious' tongue flicks at the display of strength. Alastor didn't have the heft of a snake to rely on, so it was indeed impressive.

"I CHERISH THEM ALL THE SSSAME, AFTER ALL, I PREPARED ALMOST EVERYTHING WITHIN THAT PIC-A-NIC BASKET. YOU WILL SURELY BE DAZZLED BY MY TANTALIZING TREATSSS, MY FRIEND."

BOY this snake is in a REALLY GOOD MOOD!!! He begins the ascent up the stairs, zig zagging as snakes must. He knows Vaggie said she was avoiding the lobby, but he hoped to give a little frilly talon wave. Oh well. Door located!

Alastor

"Did you!" He tries to balance the basket on a hip so he can free a hand for opening it as he walks, finds it too heavy for that, and calls up a shadow to help support its weight instead. He's impatient and eager to find out what Sir Pentious's cooking is like.

He and the shadow trail slightly behind Sir Pentious as he tries to dig into the basket, humming distractedly along with his own background music as he does.

Sir Pentious

Inside the basket is...... OH IT'S LOCKED. IT'S ACTUALLY GOT A LOCKING MECHANISM.

Rest in peace, Alastor. No peeksies.

"YESS! APPARENTLY, EVERYONE ISSS ALWAYSSS SSURPRISED TO FIND OUT I CAN COOK. I LIVED BY MYSSSSELF FOR QUITE SSSOME TIME, YOU KNOW."

Alastor

Alastor has the sneaking suspicion that Sir Pentious knows him just a little too well. He tries to think of a way to open the basket, comes up with three, tries to think of a way that DOESN'T involve returning a broken basket to Sir Pentious, and by then they're in the room so it's a moot point.

"You have egg servants," he points out, dropping the basket on the coffee table. "But, point taken! Do I get to see the fruits of your labors now?" He taps a claw on the basket lid.

Sir Pentious

"I HAVE EGG SHAPED SERVANTSS, YESS."

He gives him a look, "BUT THEY ARE NOT VERY GOOD AT WHAT THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO. WORKING WITHOUT SOULS DOESS THAT."

Pentious slithers over to a nearby seat, sitting down on it and coiling his tail up to be out of the way. He can see Alastor being all eager, so he decides to milk that.

"WHY??? ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE YOUR MIND WONDERING WHAT LIESSSS WITHIN, ALASSSSTOR?"

Alastor

"You know, I just might!" He knows full well that the more eagerness he expresses, the more likely Sir Pentious will be to drag out the big reveal for his own sadistic entertainment. But Alastor isn't exactly dying of starvation, and he'd like to see Sir Pentious enjoying himself—so sure, he'll play along a little bit. It isn't like Sir Pentious is going to leave without showing off his food.

The nearest seat to the coffee table is a couch—it's a sizeable hotel room suite, with not just bedroom furniture but also a desk, office chair, armchair in a corner, and then of course the couch and coffee table. Alastor momentarily wavers over whether he should pull over one of the other two chairs, then decides to let his id win this one and plops down on the couch next to Sir Pentious. "I've been wondering since I saw you were bringing something!" he said cheerily. "Why, wondering what you're bringing is half the reason I didn't bring anything myself! I was trying to guess what might compliment your offerings without knowing what they were going to be."

Sir Pentious

Pentious, an enormous King Cobra Demon decorated in eyes looks down at this stick bug, his tongue flicking as he listens to the eager chatter of that frequency mingled voice. Alastor seemed in high spirits, too.... And while Pentious was still upset over what the Radio Demon of his own HELL had done, he could relax here... To a degree.

It was nice, in its own way, to be able to exist next to him again.

"A WISE DECISION," Penny begins, clicking his talons together, "AFTER ALL, OUR ABILITIES ARE INCOMPARABLE! YOUR BOLOGNESE WOULD NOT PAIR WELL WITH MY MODE OF PREPARATION, BUT I DIGRESS."

He slips his sleeve up, revealing a gadget strapped to his wrist. Upon pressing it, the basket pops open. Voila!

Inside, a bottle of brandy mixed with lemonade ("HOT TODDIE" has been scribbled onto a label), a bottle of Japanese spirits with a dead viper inside, a tea kettle, and then also an assortment of sandwiches made with salted meat and fish. Crumpets, jam filled biscuits, and also a plate or two of thinly sliced meat. One does what one can in Hell, and he obtained his ingredients in the Hotel.

Alastor

Alastor immediately pulls the basket over, and is almost just as immediately disappointed. Oh, sandwiches. Sandwiches and charcuterie. Sure, it was food preparation, but it wasn't what Alastor would call cooking.

But it's certainly serviceable. Alastor has gotten his own hopes raised too high, expecting to be wowed—this was about the level of his own Sir Pentious's culinary talents, after all. And who is he to turn down the simple pleasures of unadorned meat? "You know my tastes," he says wryly, snagging a slice. He quickly devours it and then gets to work eagerly pulling goods out of the basket.

He pauses at the bottle of snake booze, his dead heart jolting in his chest. After a moment, he murmurs, "You really know my tastes," and sets it firmly on his side of the coffee table. "Quite a spread! If it wasn't for the booze, I'd think we're having a proper tea party, here." Maybe tea parties do have booze? Alastor doesn't know, he doesn't exactly attend many.

Sir Pentious

All the while that Alastor is looking the items over, Pentious is leaning over to watch, his talons fidgeting nervously. He very clearly cares about the other's opinion, evidently from the look on the snake's face. His brow creased, the corner of his lips pulled down into an inquisitive frown. He was a picky eater, and texture played such an enormous role in what he could and couldn't eat... This followed into the things he'd prepare for himself. It was no wonder he was so thin.

"I PREPARED SSSIMILAR FARE ON MY OUTING WITH VALERA ON THE FIN-DE-SEMAINE PRIOR." AND HE WILL NOT TALK ANYMORE ABOUT WHAT WENT DOWN DURING THAT PICNIC. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THOSE INNOCENT SANDWICHES.

"THE HOT TODDIE WAS WELL RECEIVED! BUT THE HABUSHU ISS NEW. I AM EAGER TO TRY IT! I WONDER IF YOU'LL BE BITTEN BY THE SSSNAKE? HAHA!"

Alastor

"And she has exquisite taste," Alastor says, resisting the urge to cast a pointed glance at Sir Pentious himself. Oh, he knows how sensitive Sir Pentious is to the approval or disapproval of the people he's trying to impress—that's consistent across universes, too. Sir Pentious is not going to hear a word of disappointment and is not going to see anything but a smile.

"Ha—ha-boo-shoe?" That's a new one. "I'm already more than familiar with snake bites," he says, tilting his head to pointedly stretch his neck. He grabs up one of the fish sandwiches and asks, "Have you never gotten any snake alcohol before, then?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious grins devilishly at the reminder of their previous visitation, his fangs in full view. If you want an encore, just ask, Alastor ~

But he leans back on the sofa, waving a hand, "NO, NEVER. PEOPLE DO NOT SSSSEND ME GIFTSSSS. I NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO TAKE A BOAT TO JAPAN, ALTHOUGH I REALLY WANTED TO. THINGS OF JAPONAISE ORIGIN WERE COVETED DURING MY TIME!"

He gestures to the Habushu. "ALTHOUGH IF THERE WERE SSSNAKE ALCOHOL IN LONDON TOWN, NO, I NEVER RECEIVED ANY."

Alastor

Sir Pentious is going to have to tell him he can ask or else he's going to think it's kinda weird. Because he does want an encore.

He makes a mental note about the gift issue. "Oh, is it from Japan?" Alastor gives it another look. Huh. Well, what does he know about Japanese snakes from any other? "I think the kind I came across was Thai. Well—technically it was Hellish, but based on a Thai recipe, I mean."

Sir Pentious

His shoulders bounce as he laughs, snickering behind a hand.

"A HELLISH SERPENT SSSTUFFED INTO A BOTTLE?"

He looks delighted, "WHY, I WASS AN ALCOHOLIC! THAT'SS CLOSE ENOUGH! HHHAAAAA HA HAAAAA!"

DARK HUMOR!

Alastor

Alastor blinks in surprise. "Were you." He gives the bottle an uncomfortable glance, then forces his gaze away. "Ha! I had a decade like that! I've never seen a radio in a bottle, though."

SYMPATHIZING THROUGH DARK HUMOR!

"I suppose in place of a radio you could squeeze in one of those little wireless headphones that are supposed to go up your ear canal," Alastor says, with a slight sneer of distaste. "But I doubt it would do much for the flavor."

Sir Pentious

He grins wide at the shared understanding. WOW THESE OLD MEN. Pentious drags the tips of his claws across his lips, carefully.

"OH, I DON'T KNOW! IF YOU BROKE THEM JUSST RIGHT, MAYBE YOU'D FIND THE TASTE SHOCKING! IT WOULD SSSSPARK A NEW FLAVOR!"

Booooo.

"I HAVE NEVER WORN EAR PIECESSSSS, I DO NOT HAVE EARSSSS LIKE A HUMAN ANYMORE. AND BESIDESSS, I MUCH PREFER THE SSSSOUND THROUGH A GRAMOPHONE. I HAD ACCESS TO ONE OF THE VERY FIRSSST MODELSSS, YOU KNOW! "

Alastor

He's relieved when the conversation moves on without further questions. "Ha! A real jolt to the senses! If nothing else, it would probably improve the ear pieces."

Alastor's eyes light up. (More, anyway.) "Did you?" he asks with relish. "I shouldn't be surprised, early adopter that you are! I just didn't realize they were around in the 1880s. I heard my first in the aughts. I still prefer records myself! Not that I mind headphones, but..." He flicks an ear. "They don't make many models for me, either." A wan smile. "But then it's not a terribly high priority when you can do this." He briefly cranks the volume up on his disembodied background music before letting it settle down to a murmur again.

Sir Pentious

He leans on his hands, upon his coil and. EXCEPTIONALLY close to that grinning radio man. Tongue flick.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE SSSO VERY ENVIOUSSS. IN 1887, EMILE BERLINER CREATED A PROTOTYPE OF WHAT YOU KNOW AS THE GRAMOPHONE!! AND...."

Demonic hungry beast-like grin.

"I THREATENED HIM FOR IT. HE GAVE IT TO ME. I HAD THE ORIGINAL, CRANK OPERATED MODEL!! SSSSUCH INGENUITY. SSSSUCH SSSTYLE."

A frown, "IT'SSSS TOO BAD I DIED THE NEXT YEAR, BUT THESE THINGSSSS HAPPEN."

Alastor

Alastor doesn't budge an inch back as Sir Pentious closes in, focusing the entirety of his attention on that wonderfully wicked grin. His eyes open more and grin stretches wide enough that it threatens to rip his face in two; his studio audience applauds at the conclusion of the story, all parties thoroughly amused. "You—are—RIGHT!" Alastor prods Sir Pentious's chest underneath his eye. "I am envious of you! The prototype, no less! There's being ON the cutting edge, and then there's being the one to sharpen the knife."

Alastor flashes back to where he'd been a year before he died—too bad, indeed—and shrugs. "There's something to be said for dying while king of the hill. No slow descent from the peak into the valley of the shadow of death." The words are still as chipper as he can make them but even to himself his tone rings somewhat hollow. He still misses those years he lost. Half his life unlived.

Sir Pentious

Oh, yes! Listen to that applause. Pentious leans back, placing his claws under his chin as he basks in the praise given to him. What a wonderful feeling, being adored! He purrrrrs, in that Cobra-Snarling Kind of Way. "YESS, NO SSLOW DESCENT AT ALL. I DIED IN AN AIRSHIP EXPLOSION!"

Alastor

"A—an airship explosion!" Alastor played back a couple of soundbites from the Hindenburg disaster broadcast—"it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen"—"oh, the humanity!"—he couldn't help himself. "Well, talk about going out with a bang! Ha! What in the world managed to bring down an airship in 1888?"

Sir Pentious

Oh man, he has no idea what the hell Alastor just played, but it gets an inquisitive look out of the snake anyway. Pentious waves a hand dismissively, and leans over to pick up the bottle of Brandy+Lemonade.

"ENGINE CAUGHT. I WAS TOO HASTY WITH MY PREPARATIONSSS THAT DAY, OR ONE OF MY LABORERS HAD A MISHAP. REGARDLESS, HERE I AM! ALTHOUGH, IT'SSSS RATHER FUNNY... IT DID NOT FEEL LIKE MUCH OF ANYTHING. I RECALL THE HEAT, THE WAY MY SSSKIN WAS TEARING FROM MY LIMBSSSS, BUT THEN BEFORE I COULD THINK TO SSSCREAM, I WAS FLYING MY SHIP THROUGH THE BLOODIED SSSSKIES OF HELL. IT'SSS THE SAME ONE, YOU KNOW. MY AIRSHIP."

Even if he's had to rebuild it.

Alastor

Just a clip of one of the best tragedies Alastor died too soon to enjoy. He lives (so to speak) for opportunities to buy black market broadcast recordings of devastating news in the living world.

So he'd brought HIMSELF down—isn't that typical of most of Sir Pentious's losses? Alastor has to fight the urge to laugh; Sir Pentious wouldn't appreciate the humor.

But this is fast to be hearing about Sir Pentious's death. Especially in such depth. Alastor wonders if he's always this free with the details of his demise, or if Alastor is riding on the legacy of whatever intimacy his alternate had enjoyed with Sir Pentious. Or if Sir Pentious is trying to push through to intimacy as fast as possible before THIS alliance falls through, too.

Because that, Alastor is aware, is certainly what he himself is about to do. "Mine didn't feel like much either. The injuries before the killing blow, sure—but the last one? Just a quick pop on my forehead, and suddenly I'm backstage at a circus with an imp telling me to get out!" He huffs. This is the second time he's told a Sir Pentious about his death. The last time, it took fifteen years—and came less than a day before Alastor permanently broke off their alliance. "But—you brought your entire airship to Hell with you? That's rare! Very rare." And, if Sir Pentious's version of Hell operates on the same principles as Alastor's, means the airship is an extension of his soul. Alastor wonders if Sir Pentious himself knows that—he's run into far too many sinners who don't.

Sir Pentious

It was a toss up of reasons. Pentious found it easier to joke about his own demise, as long as it was him telling the story. It gave him a bit more control over the outcome, and even if he were to end up laughed at, he still chose to tell the tale. But why share it with Alastor? Well... He felt good, lately. It was a peculiar feeling--the snake had a habit of oversharing anyway, and sometimes he didn't catch himself quickly enough. But Alastor wanted to be friends, and, friends are the sort of people who overshare information, right?

At least, that was the impression the Inventor got from online interaction. You couldn't call yourself a friend without having shared strangely private matters of your own life. It was kind of a comfort slip... but as long as attention wasn't brought to the fact he was so open about it, Pentious wouldn't become defensive. He didn't know the ins and outs of friendship, didn't know what this kind of contract allowed or forbid. Maybe he had made an enormous mistake, sharing that much information... but now Alastor was telling him about his own death.

Pentious smirked, that greyish, reddish tongue slipping out between his lips as he listened in variable silence--he made a lot of noise just existing, but as Valera had described, he was like a white noise machine. Once the topic returned to him, Pentious looked a lot more comfortable, "YESSS, I DID! I'VE REBUILT HER UP TWICE NOW... THREE TIMESSS, SSOON TO BE. IT TAKESSS TIME. I HAVE TO BE IN THE RIGHT..." His eyes glance about, and his hood raises, "NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT. LET USSS HAVE A DRINK, SHALL WE, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Alastor ponders over the missing end of that sentence. Right state of mind? Right mood? He feels like it has to be something like that—and if so, that suggests the ship IS a part of him, if its physical condition is dependent on Sir Pentious's inner condition.

But for now, he'll never mind about that. "Of course! That's what we came for!" He locates a glass and holds it out to be filled from Sir Pentious's bottle.

Sir Pentious

Pentious pours him a glass, careful to not spill it as he does... and then, he pours a glass for himself. The liquid is warm, which was the best way to enjoy this kind of beverage. He lifts his glass to Alastor's, "TO WHAT DO WE CHEERS TO, CHUM?"

Alastor

Chum, what a word. It sounds so... chummy. He considers the question, tossing out several options that are either too sentimental or too impersonal, and taps his glass to Sir Pentious's with, "To your not having to rebuild that blimp a fourth time for a good long while, how about that?" To Sir Pentious's health, both internal and external.

Sir Pentious

Oh ho! Now that's a good toast!

He clinks his glass elegantly against the others.

"YES, RATHER SO! HERE ISS TO THAT ENDEAVOR, HAHAAA!" Aaand he takes a big gulp. Burns all the way down, with a dance of sweet and sour on the tongue.

Alastor

Alastor also takes a deep swig—chokes, swallows hard, and coughs static. "S—sorry." Cough. He wrinkles his nose as he tries not to let the rest of his face twist. "Sweeter than I was expecting." He'd heard "hot toddy" and unthinkingly assumed it was made the same way he'd make one for a sore throat—with whiskey and the absolute minimum amount of honey he could get away with.

Sir Pentious

OH!! WHAT A REACTION! Pentious LAUGHS openly, his hood lifting up!!!

"NYA HA HAAA! LOOK AT YOU-- I FORGOT, YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS KIND OF THING!! NYA HA HAAA!"

Alastor

Alastor sticks out the tip of his tongue—ick—then grabs another sandwich to cover up the taste. (He has to grope a couple of times before his hand lands on one—his eyes are on Sir Pentious as he laughs, not on the coffee table.) He devours a couple of bites before he says, "If you 'forget' again, I'm going to start assuming you're doing it on purpose."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious couldn't look ANY more smug than he already does, and he leans closer to that Sour Faced Deer--even if he was still smiling, Pentious knew he definitely was caught off guard. Small victories. "OH, THAT ISSSS A DISSSSTINCT POSSSSSIBILITY."

Alastor

"I'm going to have my guard up next time," Alastor warns. He takes another small sip from the glass to see whether the sweetness is less shocking when he knows it's coming.

It is—but he's still not going to call it enjoyable.

Sir Pentious

You drink for enjoyment? Pentious prefers to drink to eradicate sensation. He takes a sandwich for himself, as well as a napkin, and leans back to start eating it. Yum yum. The sandwiches are missing their crusts, and the bread is very soft.

Alastor

He's tried to break that habit.

Alastor's not complaining; the less bread, the easier to enjoy the meat by itself. Alastor leans over to try to peer at the sandwich fillings and see if there are any flavors he hasn't tried yet, and grabs another. "So, hot toddy aside—were THESE chosen with my tastes in mind?" He takes a bite and, experimentally, grabs up one of the meat cuts to add on. "Because if they were, I'm flattered."

Sir Pentious

Pentious thinks, a moment, and he shakes his head.

"NO, I DIDN'T REALLY MAKE ANY OF THISSS WITH YOU IN MIND. I JUST WANTED TO BRING SNACKSSS AND BOOZE, SO WE COULD GET "HAMMERED". HAAAHAA!! THISSS ISSS SSTANDARD PICNIC FARE OF MY TIME, ALASSSTOR. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MISERABLE. NOT A RADIO IN SSSSIGHT. I WONDER IF YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE OPERA DEMON."

Alastor

"Well, lucky our tastes line up!" He lifts his glass again—cheers to that—and takes another sip. "... Mostly."

He doesn't have to contemplate the question long. "Probably!" It's something he's actually thought about—in death, being the Radio Demon has felt so correct that he has to wonder if he still would have been the Radio Demon had he died a century earlier, his powers lying latent until the radio receivers to react to them had been invented. Or maybe it was impossible for his soul to have been created until the technology he needed was ready. "I was trying to make it on Broadway before the radio came around. A generation before that, it probably WOULD have been opera. What about you, if you'd been born too early? I expect you would have had to start the Industrial Revolution all by yourself."

Sir Pentious

He snickers, grinning REALLY close to Alastor's head.

"AND YOU KNOW, I WOULD HAVE DONE SO!" He takes another gulp. There's no gentle sips here, "I HAVE AN EYE FOR INVENTION! I COULD NEVER SSSSIT BY AND LET OTHERSSS GET THINGSSSS SSTARTED WITHOUT ME. NO MATTER THE ERA, SHOULD I HAVE BEEN BORN INTO IT, I WOULD HAVE REVOLUTIONIZED IT!!!"

Alastor

Well, don't be shy, Sir Pentious, there's still a couple inches of empty air there.

He's getting tired of gentle sips himself. He opens his bottle of bourbon, drowns what's left of his hot toddy, and takes a deep gulp of the new concoction. Much better. "Oh, I have no doubt! That's what you're made for! You're still doing it now, even!" Alastor sure didn't see anyone else running around with rail guns like the one Sir Pentious has just cooked up.

Sir Pentious

Oooh, a straight swig from the bottle, eh? Pentious flicks his tongue, looking it over, before he puts his glass down and reaches for Alastor's bourbon, "COME NOW, DON'T BE sssSTINGY."

Alastor

"What, do you need to burn out the taste of honey, too?" He passes over the bottle then flops back against the couch cushion, enjoying the familiar burn down his throat.

Sir Pentious

"HARDER TO GET DRUNK OFF OF SOMETHING SSSSO SSWEET." ACtually, it's easier, but he doesn't like the sticky taste of honey so much.

Pentious fills up his glass near to the brim, which means there'd still be a hint of lemon and honey, but not quite as bad. He then takes a direct swig from the bottle and passes it back with a cackle.

Alastor

"Definitely not as enjoyable! I prefer to taste exactly how drunk I'm going to get off my drink." And if that means occasionally feeling like he's drinking paint thinner, so be it.

He takes the bottle back, almost takes a swig, stops, stares at the lip of the bottle as he thinks extremely hard about the implications, and then swigs with even more gusto.

Sir Pentious

Pentious leans over to grab his glass, and sits back slowly, as to not jostle the thing. Several big gulps, you can hear it noisily! OHH that burns. He purrrrrsss, and brings the glass down on the coffee table. Looking even more giddy by the moment.

"YOU KNOW, WE SHOULDN'T GET OURSELVESSSSS TOO DONE IN BY THE BRANDY... THERE ISSS SSSTILL THE SSNAKE BITE THERE."

He gestures to the Habushu, "UNLESSsss YOU HAVE ANOTHER BITE IN MIND!" Pentious, you already made this joke.

Alastor

There's a crackle like two stations trying to interfere with each other and brief garbled voices over Alastor's background music. Okay, all right, Alastor's got just enough booze in him to take the edge off his common sense. And Sir Pentious wouldn't have brought it up twice if he wasn't serious, right? "Are you offering?"

Sir Pentious

Hhhmmmm. He looks over at Alastor, wincing at the sound of crackling radio stations... He taps his grit teeth with a talon, thinking it over, "LET ME HAVE ANOTHER DRINK BEFORE I DECIDE!" Because that's always smart. He takes the bottle back so he can pour himself another glass-- but whatever. He'll just take a gulp or two from the bottle. He sucks in air! Feels great, and also horrible at the same time.

Alastor

Is that a drink to work up his nerve, or a drink to put off a distasteful task? "Up to you," Alastor says, as if it doesn't make the slightest difference to him. He takes up the bottle of habushu—HIS next drink is certainly going to be of the "liquid courage" variety—opens it up, and tastes it a little more cautiously than he did the hot toddy.

Sir Pentious

Unfortunately, Pentious had neither decision on his mind. He was just wanting to drink more--he watched Alastor taste the Habushu... He'd be greeted with a spicy, though definitely Strong taste. The smell was as if cinnamon were dipped into paint thinner. Excellent? The Snake outside of the bottle, wearing a blinking top hat, leans closer to Alastor, somewhat towering over him menacingly, his hood out.

"OR SHOULD WE SAVE THE BITE FOR LASsssT??? I DO NOT WANT TO CUT OUR MEETING SHORT."

Alastor

Tastes good to Alastor. Weird, but good. He drinks a little more.

And suddenly he's being loomed over.

He thinks he's starting to develop a little bit of a taste for being loomed over. Not many people have the courage to attempt a loom on the Radio Demon—and most of those people are boring as hell. A looming Sir Pentious, however, is a promise of an exquisitely interesting afternoon, often in the form of mass carnage and flattened city blocks. (And he looks handsome from this angle, to boot. Very imperious. Very sure of himself.)

"Oh! I can handle a little blood loss and keep going, don't you worry!" He pats Sir Pentious's shoulder reassuringly. "But you're right! Dessert comes after the meal."

Sir Pentious

Pentious only feels comfortable when he can loom over his enemies! Perks of being so long. And he may not have his airship, he's still very big in general. His eyes squint at the shoulder pat, but he sits back, pulling more of his tail up onto the couch. Pleasant rattling sound. While Alastor caresses that bottle, Pentious is going to fetch a few jam filled biscuits out of the basket and munch on them.

He really does look happier, these days. Like his color is more saturated.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious is leaning away, then Alastor is going to... maybe... lean toward. Keep that distance consistent and all. That's a good idea. (The alcohol is definitely kicking in.)

He elbows Sir Pentious and offers the bottle. "The snake booze is pretty good! Makes me regret not trying the other bottle I got. We oughta try the Thai variety some time, you know, for comparison purposes."

Sir Pentious

His neck does a weird accordion thing, but only briefly. Exaggerated movements, though not intentionally, his head swivels a little as he looks Alastor over. Taking the bottle now, and peeking at the viper inside. His tongue flicks and he grins.

"WANTING TO DRINK WITH ME AGAIN IN THE FUTURE, ALASSSTOR? YOUR LADY FRIEND WILL BECOME QUITE ANNOYED WITH OUR VISITSSSS."

Alastor

"Well, sure, the first couple times have gone well enough." There are a confused few seconds during which Alastor tries to figure out which of his lady friends Sir Pentious thinks would be jealous of these meetings; he can't think of anything to say in response except, "You're not worried yours will get annoyed?" And then he figures it out. "Oh—I wouldn't call Vaggie a FRIEND. Coworker at best. Anyway, we could go over to your side of things."

Sir Pentious

Valera always encourages these sorts of meetings, so he's not worried in the least in this case.

The mention of having their visits over on his side makes him think about his own Alastor, and the conversation he had with Valera... Pentious' expression grows a little dark, a red glow seeping into his eyes as he thinks on it.

Alastor

Alastor's watching Sir Pentious closely enough to notice that. He weighs his curiosity against his desire to see Sir Pentious in a good mood, decides that this friendship has been short-lived enough that not maintaining a good mood could ruin his chances completely, and he says, "Vaggie will get used to our spending time over here. Anyway, I don't know what she could do about it!"

Sir Pentious

He's startled out of his own brief intensity, and he leans back on the sofa, resting his head more on Alastor's side.

"MY PLACE COULD WORK, HOWEVER, THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOU WATCHING USSS, AND CURRENTLY, I AM NOT LOOKING TO SSSSPEND ANY SSSSUCH TIME WHERE HE COULD BE WATCHING ME IN A JOVIAL SSSSTATE."

Alastor

Ah. "Think he'll try to ruin the mood? Maybe kidnap me in the middle and switch us out?" He laughs at the thought, then leans forward to grab—what's left?—another few pieces of meat.

Sir Pentious

That gets a LAUGH out of the old serpent, and he rests his head on his palm, grinning down at Alastor.

"I DOUBT HE'D WANT TO SSSPEND ANY LENGTH OF TIME WITH ME! BESIDESSS, HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO RESSSIST CALLING ME SIR HAROLD. I WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE IN AN INSSSTANT."

Alastor

"Harold." One corner of his mouth twists. Of all the names to settle on. "You know, I don't get why he wouldn't want to! I don't know why he—well—" He stopped, stumbling over his words as he realized he wasn't exactly heading toward neutral territory. "What it is he... doesn't see in you...r company." Smooth work, Mr. Professional Radio Host. Incredibly subtle.

Sir Pentious

The repeating of the name CLEARLY irritates Pentious, his glare fixating on the other with a snappy hiss sfx. But then he watches Alastor, of all Demons, stumble awkwardly through that mess of a sentence, and he raises a broooow. Huhwha.

Sir Pentious straightens up, polishing his claws on his suit, "YESSS, WELL, CLEARLY, HE IS AFRAID OF BEING SHOWN UP! ONE CANNOT SSSIMPLY BE IN MY PRESENCE WITHOUT THAT HAPPENING! I KNOW HE FEARS SSSSOME ASPECT OF ME, OTHERWISE, WHY WOULD HE BE SSSTAYING AWAY?"

Easier to tell himself that-- it was definitely more likely that Alastor just didn't give two shits about Pentious, and he knew that to be true, too.

His focus is back on the Stickbug.

"BUT YOU KNOW, YOU CLEARLY HAVE A FEW POINTSSSSsss ON HIM! AFTER ALL, YOU CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME!"

Alastor

Can't get enough of me. He is going to sit forward and he is going to pick up a sandwich and he is going to chew on it a bit and he is definitely not buying time while he screams in his head, and there are certainly not very very quiet terrified howls buried beneath the background music.

Finally, he says, as though he never paused, "Well, OF COURSE! What more interesting company could one keep than a man determined to conquer Hell and capable of independently producing the all the firepower he needs to accomplish that task?! If my duplicate is AFRAID of you, then he must have ambitions I don't! And if he ISN'T afraid, then..." He gropes around for an explanation, then lamely concludes, "then... I guess he's just stupid."

Because he genuinely, genuinely doesn't know what it is that his alternate isn't seeing. He's sifted through enough parallel dimensions and met enough versions of himself to conclude that his sentiments are quite probably unique, and he doesn't know why. He isn't so different from his mirror selves; nor are most of the duplicate serpents he's seen so different from his own. And yet he's the only Radio Demon who's got thorns wrapped between his ribs like this. Why him? What are the other lucky Alastors missing?

Sir Pentious

Pentious is too tipsy to consider the sounds he's hearing in the background music, just watching Alastor idly.

What a way to end that thought! The Cobra laughs, and he holds the bottle of habushu up, beaming with enjoyment. Thoroughly, THOROUGHLY entertained. "I WILL DRINK TO THAT, ALASTOR. HE IS JUST STUPID, INDEED!" And he takes a swig, clearly not bothered by the viper inside. Then again, Cobras do eat smaller snakes primarily. The taste has more kick to it, and he offers it to this rideerculous man.

Alastor

Oh! Success! What a relief. Alastor accepts the bottle—who needs glasses, next time they should start out by passing bottles back and forth, he's loving this—and drinks deeply from it.

Sir Pentious

Don't swallow the snake, Alastor.

Pentious was definitely getting pretty hammered at this rate, though. At least ten minutes later, he's kind of... on the floor, but his tail is up on the couch, as he streeetches and hums to himself. He just looks so relaxed.

Alastor

And as long as they're getting comfortable, Alastor's going to take the opportunity to flop across the couch—and across as much as Sir Pentious's tail as he can get away with. If he DOESN'T swallow the snake, it's not going to be for a lack of trying. He's got the bottle upside-down and his tongue in the bottle, trying to coax the coiled-up corpse toward the opening so he can bite down. It's probably not going to be nearly as delicious as he imagines, but right now he's primarily thinking of the satisfying crunch of the skull.

Sir Pentious

Apparently Pentious doesn't mind Alastor lying on him--either he's too drunk to properly feel it, or he is too drunk to care. Or, the forbidden third option... he doesn't actually mind all that much. It would be hard to tell in this state. He purrs.........

"YOU KNOW, ALASSTOR, I HAVE BEEN 'STRAIGHT UP' MISERABLE FOR THE PASSST ONE HUNDRED YEARSSS! GIVE OR TAKE A DECADE OR SO. WHEN I DIED, I WASS OPTIMISSSTIC IN SSSOME WAYSSS THAT I COULD, WELL, MAKE IT WORK. AND THEN I MET YOU IN THE FORTY YEARSS AFTER THAT, AND IT WASS--WELL IT WASN'T YOU, YOU. BUT WE ALL KNOW HOW THAT WENT!"

He imitates the sound of a blimp crashing and exploding.

"AND, AFTER THAT, I THINK A PART OF ME FINALLY DIED! I HATED EVERYONE, EVERYTHING. I DOUBLED DOWN MY EFFORTSSSsss, AND FIXATED ON MY DESIRESSSsss, BUT I WAS COMPLETELY ALONE! EVEN AFTER HAVING THE EGGSSSSssss CREATED, THEY WERE A POOR SSSUBSSTITUTE FOR CONTACT."

Alastor

There is an actual audible record scratch as the background music finally shuts up. "Oh."

His pleasant buzz has quite abruptly shifted into nausea. He reaches past Sir Pentious to unsteadily set the bottle of Habushu on the coffee table, snake uneaten.

Sir Pentious

"AND YET...!" He continues, "I HAVE BEEN HAPPY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN DECADES.... BECAUSE OF VALERA! SHE ENTERED MY LIFE AND NOW I HAVE DRIVE ONCE MORE... SSSHE EVEN MANAGED TO CONVINCE ME TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE, ALASSSTOR...!"

He's beaming, pressing his hands to his cheeks as he rubs them. Oh no, he's so in love.

"I WENT FROM A BITTER, LONELY, HATEFUL MAN TO HAVING A FRIEND, AND...! A WONDERFUL WOMAN IN MY UNLIFE...!"

Alastor

Alastor stares at the ceiling as his nausea finds a way to twist into horrible new shapes. It should have been him. It could have been—if not for his own goddamn, stupid...

He rubs his face (still smiling? good) and then sits up to try to move from the couch to the floor—wow that's a lot of snake down there. He turns and tries to lift his legs over Sir Pentious's body to swing off the couch, loses his coordination, and falls off the couch to land on his ass on the floor with his legs flung across Sir Pentious's tail. He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and declares, "And it shouldn't have taken you HALF that long to get all that—and more! Why, you should never have lost it in the first place." He leans closer to Sir Pentious and says insistently, "But you have it now, and I am TRULY glad that you do." And he is. As much as he desperately, furiously wishes all that could have come from him—he's proven quite conclusively that he's not at all equipped to offer it, so better that Sir Pentious found someone who is. "And you don't know how honored I am to have been given a second chance to be a part of it. Goodness knows I don't deserve it, ha!"

Sir Pentious

The sudden THUD of Alastor falling on the floor definitely startles Pentious enough to open up his hood--but soon he's got the deer next to his head with that arm around his shoulders, and Sir Pentious can't help the little smile that accompanies that. Friend.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR, DO ANY OF US DESERVE SSSssECOND CHANCES?" He was PRETTY drunk, just listen to that slurred speech. "BECAUSE THISSSS IS HELL, I THINK NOT! BUT.... FRANKLY, MY FRIEND, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! WE'VE BEEN DOWN HERE LONG ENOUGH, LET'Ssss GET sssssSOMETHING OUT OF IT!"

And he bumps his head affectionately against Alastor's. Bonk. Probably better not to mention this to him when he's sober.

Alastor

If head-bonking is on the table now, then so is sustained head contact. It's like a bonk that doesn't end. He tilts his head sideways against Sir Pentious's, they're making contact, no take-backs.

"No, no, of course we don't deserve second chances." He laughs ruefully. "But there's the thing: if you don't deserve a second chance, usually that means nobody's going to GIVE you any! Which makes it all the more—all the more... Well, YOU DID! You said just a bit ago that you WERE optimistic—if you ask me—not that you asked me, but I'm telling you anyway—you still are."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' tongue sticks out in the most ridiculous way as he practically beams. What a smile. It's like a large C trying to take over his entire face.

"OHH, DON'T INssssSULT ME~" he waves a hand.... "OPTIMISSSTIC.... SSUCH A FAR FETCHED IDEA! AND YET.... IT DOESN'T ALL FEEL SSSO POINTLESS, NOW."

He purrrrrrs. It's a cobra sound, deep and raspy, but the growling is curled enough to sound content. It's not a friendly sound if you're used to cats, but at least he wasn't about to bite.

"ARE YOU OPTIMISSSTIC, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Pressed as close to Sir Pentious as he is, Alastor can practically feel him smiling without having to turn and look at it. He can DEFINITELY feel that raspy purr—even as calm as Sir Pentious is, there's an edge of something dangerous to the sound. (It reminds him of fangs sinking into his throat.) Alastor is sure the reason he feels a little light-headed is because of the alcohol.

"It's not an insult!" Alastor lays his free hand dramatically on his chest as if he's offended at the mere suggestion; then pauses and amends himself: "It would be an insult toward anyone else. But YOU wear it well!" He pauses again and amends himself again: "Wore it well. Anyway—no. I'm not. Not sure if I ever was one, but I'm even less of one now."

Sir Pentious

Alastor often talked so much, most of his commentary or idle prattle was just background noise.

Sir Pentious looks to the other--but since their heads are together, it's more like a nuzzle. Nuzzle nuzzle........

"AND WHAT WOULD HELP YOU BECOME MORE OPTIMISSSTIC? YOU'VE ALWAYSSSS BEEN A MYSSSTERY TO ME, ALASTOR."

Alastor

Ah, every radio host's greatest fear: to be switched on and left ignored in the corner, nothing but idle noise for a busy listener to hear but tune out.

Alastor 100% mistakes the gesture for a nuzzle and returns it eagerly. How did he get this lucky this fast?

"I—huh." He doesn't think "you" would make a very good answer. "Optimism is hard to come by in Hell."

Sir Pentious

Luckily, Sir Pentious is too hammered to question it, although he does make a face.

"DID.... YOU CHANGE YOUR HAIR?"

Yep. He's only just noticed now.

Alastor

He's too hammered to realize Sir Pentious really should have noticed sooner. "Oh! Yes!" He leans away slightly so he can turn toward Sir Pentious and point at his hair. (He's not letting go of Sir Pentious's shoulders, though.) "This is how I usually—well, I guess I can't say 'usually' anymore—how I used to wear it! How I prefer it. Do you like it?"

Sir Pentious

He has to focus his eyes a little, giving him a once over..... Hmmmmm.

"I'M NOT USED TO IT, THE RED SUITS YOU MUCH BETTER!" Or rather, Sir Pentious prefers it, "THIS STYLE DOES MAKE YOU LOOK YOUNGER...."

Alastor

His ears droop slightly, but it doesn't touch his tone as he says, "Well—don't you worry, I'm sure the red will be back soon enough! I never can manage to maintain this look." He wonders if "younger" is good or bad.

Sir Pentious

"WELL IT ISN'T BAD, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE WITH IT. WE ONLY MET IN DEATH." Sir Pentious attempts to clarify, his tail slithering off the couch and.... FLOPPING on top of Alastor's body. Trapped.

Alastor

Trapped... or embraced??

"Fair enough. I'm not going to pretend I didn't act differently back when I looked like this than I do now!" He leans a little more heavily on Sir Pentious for a moment, "And I suppose I'd have to adjust if you showed up one day with a curtain of black hair instead of a hood."

He drops his free hand on top of Sir Pentious's tail. NOW who's trapped? "... Do you miss your body?"

Sir Pentious

Oh yes, definitely, it is Sir Pentious who is trapped. A prisoner of the deer.

The question gives him pause, and he thinks... Does he remember it well? Does he miss it?

"NO. NOT PARTICULARLY. I WAS A THIN, FRAIL SORT OF MAN. UNREMARKABLE. AT LEAST UNTIL I FINALLY BEGAN MY TERRORIZING OF LONDON, THAT IS."

He grins, "DANDY SUITSSS AND WHAT NOT. BUT, I SAY, I'M MUCH MORE RECOGNIZABLE LIKE THIS. I HAVE MORE PRESENCE THAN EVER BEFORE. LEGS ARE A HASSLE."

Maybe he can't waltz anymore, but it's not like he ever enjoyed those fancy parties.

Alastor

"Isn't everyone unremarkable until they find something to start terrorizing?" Alastor doesn't find many people remarkable, anyway. "Snakeskin suits you. I've SEEN pictures of you—other you—but I'm sure if I was asked to try to describe what you'd looked like, I'd describe you as a cobra first and then try to explain what's different."

Sir Pentious

"OH, HAVE YOU SEEN PICTURES OF ME?" Big. Big pupils. They're huge like kitten eyes as he looks at Alastor.

"RIGHT, BECAUSE OF YOUR HISTORY WITH THE SERPENT OF YOUR HELL..."

He flops his head back down, "FOR A MOMENT, I THOUGHT YOU'D HEARD OF ME FROM THE LIVING WORLD, BUT, AMERICANS LIKELY DON'T CONCERN THEMSELVES MUCH WITH THE ENGLISH ANYMORE."

Alastor

Oh, hold on, give Alastor a moment to stare into those eyes. Okay. He's good.

"Sure, I'd heard of you in the living world! Why, we covered you in history class! Early films showed who the top bad guy was by giving him long black hair."

Sir Pentious

what. WHAT

In a FLASH, Sir Pentious pinned Alastor to the floor, face mere inches from his.

"YOU'VE HEARD OF ME?? YOU WERE TAUGHT OF ME?? I MADE SSSSSOME KIND OF AN IMPACT???!!! DETAILSSSSS, MAN!"

Alastor

"I—sure, of course you made an impact! You invented air combat a generation before anyone else figured out how to get off the ground, how could you NOT make an impact?" How could HE think he hadn't made an impact?

Sir Pentious

He's. Staring.

Alastor

Alastor's staring back. He's really digging all this soulful eye contact.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had just found out, after decades, that he'd ACTUALLY made an impact--nobody had ever known who he was, even soon after his death.

Apparently the Jack the Ripper murders were far more enticing than Pentious blowing up the Savoy.

Alastor

Sir Pentious is still staring. Alastor should probably give him a little more than that to go on. "They named an entire chapter in our history textbook after you. 'The Serpentine Decade.' Between Reconstruction and the Gilded... Do... do people not know who you are in your version of things?"

Sir Pentious

Oh no.

He's known? In a different variation of the world?

Pentious sits back, staring wide eyed into the middle distance...

"EVERY TIME I INQUIRED, NO ONE... NO ONE KNEW WHO I WAS. IT WAS AS IF MY DEEDS WERE COMPLETELY UNHEARD OF."

Alastor

Alastor watches his face closely, trying to figure out what he's thinking. Considering Alastor's own vision is a little blurry at the moment, he can't quite make it out. "Well—rest assured, as long as you're over here, there will be no one who's died in over a hundred years who doesn't know your name."

Probably a hyperbole—surely SOMEONE hadn't been taught their history properly—but certainly Sir Pentious himself was unlikely to run into anybody who didn't know.

Whether they still took him seriously after a few years dead and watching the reigning overlords sneer at the old supervillain's airships was quite another question, but Sir Pentious didn't need to know that.

Sir Pentious

He places his talons together, scratching at his gloves. Oh... This was such an amazing situation.

As long as he's here, EVERYONE knows who he is, historically speaking. But. Well.

Not the same Sir Pentious. The serpent suddenly felt envy flare inside of him, but he shook his head. No, no. Dwell on that later......

...... He looks back at Alastor, "WAIT. AREN'T YOU AMERICAN? WHY WERE YOU STUDYING ME?"

While his father was an immigrant, it didn't really make sense to him that that would do it.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious has to ask, then his history really IS different. Alastor fears that this little cross-dimensional compare-and-contrast is going to leave Sir Pentious not with the lesson "I'm remembered somewhere," but "a different version of me was more successful than I am." In the back of his mind, Alastor starts figuring out what he'll say if that happens.

"Over here, you decided to hop overseas before beginning your rampage. You were the absolute bane of the east coast. You made a far bigger impact on us than you did on England."

Sir Pentious

Well, that answers that! He smirks, looking devilish. "NYA HA HAAAAAAA! DID I FLY OVER? CAUGHT YOU ALL BY SSSSURPRISE, DID I? HOW ENTERTAINING! YOU KNOW, I SHOULD HAVE MOVED TO AMERICA WHEN MY WIFE LEFT ME... A NEW SSTART WOULD HAVE DONE ME SSOME GOOD."

He stares kind of. Hollowly at his hands. Instead, he'd lost several years of his life to addiction and insanity. And any chance of meeting his son.

"I WANTED TO BE RECOGNIZED--I KNEW I WAS BRILLIANT, BUT THOSE BASSSTARDSSSS REFUSED TO SSSEE IT. I MADE THEM SSSEE JUSST WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, EVEN IF IT COSSSST ME EVERYTHING."

Alastor

Alastor's not sure when his own Sir Pentious's wife left him—maybe it HAD been before he started his rampage? Certainly a wife had never been mentioned in any of the biographical materials Alastor had seen on Sir Pentious.

"I don't see how anyone could refuse to see it now," Alastor says dryly. "Unless it's out of sheer, stubborn spite! But if so, that says more about THEM than you, doesn't it?"

Sir Pentious

He lies down directly on Alastor. Yep. Crushing him.

"YES, BUT THEY ARE VERY LOUD, AND I AM TIRED....."

Alastor

Oh. Oh this is... this sure is something that only happened once, right before Alastor ruined everything.

Not this time. This time he's getting it right.

He slides his arms around Sir Pentious's back and holds him tight. "I'm louder." A dozen voices buzz like locusts under Alastor's words.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' eyes widened, but... He didn't sit up in an offended rage. Instead, he processed what was going on slowly....

He was being embraced by his old friend. Alastor, from a version of events that seemed better off. The old inventor didn't move, but he didn't hiss either. He just breathed deeply.

"I KNOW YOU ARE, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

My friend. Alastor can hardly believe how good that feels to hear. To have this heavy weight on him, proving that this is all real. He lets his eyes slide shut, taking the rare opportunity to bask in the tactile sensations. "So if you ever need someone to drown them out... you know the frequencies you can reach me on, pal."

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.7

wow it took 30 years didnt it. i did it, fuckers. please give me attention-

anyway, heres the final part :) do i know how to proofread? no. thats it thats all i was gonna say, i just dont know how to proofread.

warnings: uhhh none i dont think

                                                            -

              In the middle of August, the Ninja Sex Party dropped their newest album “Cool Patrol” and the two of you were in love. You were in Jeremy’s room, lying on his bed beside him sharing headphones as the album played, and it all felt so teenage rom-com that Jeremy was half-distracted the entire time by you and lost different lyrics because of that. “Orgy for One” played and you nudged Jeremy before mouthing “you” to him with a playful look in your eyes and a smile that set his heart racing. He laughed, and nudged you back just as playful before the beginning to “Danny Don’t You Know” brought the two of you back into reality. He was emotional, and so were you, and there was something about sharing an emotion with someone that was intimate enough to make his heart skip a beat. 

             Your phone buzzed after a while, and you sat up, pulling an earbud out. “Fuck, Jeremy-” You stood up quickly, scrambling to get your things together, “-my cousins were coming over to do that picture thing since we didn’t get a chance before - I gotta go, alright? I’ll text you in a bit.”

             He wouldn’t remember what he said to you, or the dumb joke you made as you were leaving his room. He would remember how the minute you left, he added “Heart Boner” onto your playlist with a devious little smile as if he were getting away with something. Just a little joke between friends. After all - you had that little moment together, how could he not not? 

                                                            -

             An hour after you left, Michael showed up with a plastic bag filled with Chinese takeout for three - eyes widening when he saw your absence. His smile fell as he looked towards the bag in his hand, frowning slightly as he began to delve into his thoughts. For what felt like minutes, the two boys just sat there in silence as Michael finally untied the bag to pass his friend his portion of their meal, frustration evident in the way he furrowed his brow and refused to look him in the eye.

             “They had a family thing,” Jeremy said. “Didn’t [y/n] text you?”

             “No,” Michael said, “they did not. I said I was coming with food and-”

             “It’s tradition,” Jeremy countered. “Y’know? It’s that little... sign-picture-thing. Some sort of family tradition their parents started when they were little.”

             Michael rolled his eyes at the sappy expression crossing his best friend’s face as he placed what had been your meal on the dresser, before collapsing back onto his bed - tilting his head back to maintain eye contact. “That’s cute and all, but what do I do with their orange chicken?”

             He shrugged, turning back to his computer to close out Spotify. “I dunno - we can go by their house later and see if they want it.”

             He heard his comforter shift and assumed that Michael rolled over onto his stomach. “But I have egg rolls for them,” he whined, voice muffled slightly by what Jeremy could only guess was Michael laying his face in his hands.

             A quick booting down of his computer. He shrugged again, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Just don’t eat them?”

             The moment of silence could have killed a man. “Jeremiah.”

             He spun to face him. “Michael.”

             They maintained eye contact for a moment, before Michael shifted so that he was now sitting up - pulling the plastic bag closer to him. “So did you two fuck yet?”

             A thousand broken words slipped past his lips as Jeremy struggled to say something - a question, a swear, something that didn’t make him look stupid. “Why would you ask that!?” he tried to ignore the way his voice raised an octave.

             Meanwhile, Michael seemed to have no problem with disregarding his panic. “So you haven’t.”

             “Uh. No? We’re just friends?”

             “You sure?” Michael asked, not even giving him the chance to answer as he looked away. “I don’t know, dude, you’ve been pining for a fuckin’ while now. Why don’t you just ask them out?”

             “I don’t like-” he paused, before shaking his head. If Michael knew, then he knew - there really wasn’t any point in denying it any further. “I don’t know, I like Christine still-”

             “You can like more than one person at a time, Jeremiah.”

             “I know, but...” “I don’t even know if they like me still.”

             “Dude. Bro. Homie. Broseidon. Buddy. They wanna fuck.”

             “Michael!” 

             “They’re at least interested in you,” he said with a mere shrug of indifference, “do you just not see how they look at you?”

             “I don’t-” Jeremy started, and then he stopped, the words he wanted to say sticky and catching in his throat like honey. “I don’t think-” He paused, shutting his eyes, “Michael, I don’t know why they’d still be into me. Like... they did the whole...” He tapped at his temple, “thing because of me.” He hesitated. That wasn’t entirely true, was it? “Or... they did it slightly because of me. I just - I don’t think they’d, uh, y’know... want anything to do with me like that.” 

             There was understanding in Michael’s eyes, lit up before he looked away to the carton in his hand. He dug through it with chopsticks, letting out a sigh, “Dude, I get that, but... they like you, dumbass.”

             Jeremy laughed it off. “Yeah, sure.”

             “I mean it!” Michael countered, before dropping the topic, “I’m gonna eat your food if you don’t.”

             “What-” Jeremy popped open his order, “fine, okay - but this conversation isn’t over, Michael.” 

             “Mhm. You’ll accept it later.”

             “That’s not what I meant!”

             “You really suck at hiding your feelings, y’know?”

             “Michael!”

                                                            -

             Two weeks later, and Jeremy wasn’t sure how to feel. 

             There were strings of these little... moments between the two of you. He realized how much time he was spending over at your house after Michael teased him over it, how often the two of you studied together and how flustered he’d get when you were close to him, how many times he found himself grabbing your favorite candy from gas stations just to make you smile. One Sunday night, he was sitting at the end of your bed with a pillow hugged to his chest, spending another night at your house while Michael was off spending time with his family (not that Jeremy wouldn’t have been there otherwise - he stayed over every now and then just because he wanted to. Movie nights were good. Dinner was good. Being around you was good). You sat at your desk, legs crossed awkwardly in your chair in a position that looked uncomfortable to him but you showed no signs of discomfort as you continued to draw. The two of you had been talking, and Jeremy had just sat there fascinated with watching you draw after years of not recognizing your progress.

             A question hit the air, heavy and loaded. “Would you have taken it?” You didn’t move to face him, the soft sound of your tablet pen tapping back against the surface as you scroll out and fumble giving away any nerves. “The... the SQUIP,” you went to clarify.

             But he understood, and he spoke quick: “no.” He shifted slightly, holding the pillow closer to himself, “not after what it did to you.”

             “But if you hadn’t known,” you said, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, “if... if it had been you, would you have done it?”

             “I mean... I don’t think-”

             “You can say yes, Jeremy,” you finally looked back at him. “I’m not gonna be mad or anything.”

             His shoulders slumped slightly, a bit relieved of the thought. “Okay, then... yeah. I mean, yeah - who wouldn’t?”

             You turned back to your work. “Yeah. Yeah, right? It sounds good. Like... you have a pill that’ll solve everything and tell you the right moves to make... who wouldn’t want that?”

             That’s when Jeremy realized you’d been doubting yourself. Blaming yourself for saying yes. “I think a lot of people would have taken it.” 

             “Yeah... I think so, too.” You stopped drawing after a moment, turning around fully to face him, “can I confess something?”

             He nodded slowly. “Oh. Uh. Yeah, sure?”

             “I don’t keep the Mountain Dew Red because I’m scared it’ll come back and destroy everything and leave me fucked,” you said in a rush of words, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest but... I think it’s better this way.”

             “Hey, no,” Jeremy reached out, fingers brushing over your shoulder. “Michael and I would find more.” 

             You fumbled with your pen, it falling to the floor as you swore softly under your breath. Jeremy reached for it just as you did, foreheads clashing in cliche fashion as you immediately push back. A moment later, he offered your tablet pen back to you.

             He spoke after you took it. “Hey, uh, c’mere for a minute.”

             So you dropped your pen onto your desk and pulled your chair over to the bed. Uncharacteristically calm and soft, he took one of your hands in a motion less Jeremy and more... you... you weren’t sure. It wasn’t entirely Jeremy, that much was confirmed.

             “There was this stuff that mom used to way when I was a kid,” he said quietly, dragging his thumb over your knuckles. “It was this whole...thing about how the ‘loudest voice has to be yours’ when you’re doubting yourself and shit - I don’t know, it just kinda stuck with me and... I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you, because you’re... different? Like - you keep going, and, uh, you’re a big nerd who laughs at my stupid jokes and... I’m glad you’re you, I guess?” 

             You cracked a small smile as you pulled back from him. Before he can question whether he crossed a line, you answer, “I’m saving this. I can’t focus on art with your sappy ass saying shit like that.” You stood, tucking your chair under your desk as you sat on your bed. “Fuckin’ sweet dork,” you mumbled as you pulled Jeremy into a hug.

             He stiffened up for a moment, only to wrap his arms around you after a moment. He smiled into your shoulder, saying a muffled “Shut up” into it as you giggled.

             You pulled away with a smile. “Why don’t you make me, Jeremy?”

             One of his biggest regrets was not asking to kiss you right then and there.

                                                           -

            Days later, you were in his room for once, sitting on his bed beside him. You were tired, far more than he was, looking at math problems that were blurry to you as you stifled back another yawn. Jeremy had stretched out, awkwardly leaning against his headboard as he tried to stay away until you finally resigned for the night - shutting your notebook and tossing it towards your backpack with a noisy clamor. You leaned against him, mumbling words long forgotten into his shoulder - likely about hating numbers - only to whine when he sat forward a moment later. Soon enough, he returned to be your pillow once more, laughing softly as you curled into his side contently and making some joke about how you only wanted him around for this reason.

            “Nope,” you had hummed, “too bony. Bad pillow.” 

            He snorted a little, reaching up to tuck back a strand of hair out of place. “You seem happy.”

            “I am,” you hummed. “Since it’s you.”

            He reached up, gently tugging you closer to him in order to worm an arm around you. “You’re tired.”

            “Mhm.”

            “Sorry I kept you up.”

            “That’s okay,” you mumbled into his shoulder, shifting slightly to be closer to him. “Math is stupid.”

            “It’s not stupid,” he countered, “you just aren’t good at it.”

            “Thus making it stupid, Jeremiah.”

            Eventually, you went quiet. At first, Jeremy thought you’d fallen asleep, but you sat forward slightly, looking up at him and it was almost like there had been magnetism between you. You had leaned forward, and he gently reached up to guide your face to his, and the two of you kissed for a soft, quiet moment. Soon enough, you had drawn away and cuddled back up to him. He wasn’t sure if he fell asleep first, but he remembered how warm you felt against him and he remembered feeling nothing but warmth in his chest as he eventually dozed off.

            There were a few things that hit Jeremy when he woke up. The pain in his back from falling asleep half-sitting against the headboard of his bed, the weight on him that confused him for a moment for a millisecond before he felt your hot breath tickling his skin, face buried in his neck. Then the memory of the night before - of a clumsy kiss he’d been craving for so long, and the way you kissed back and maybe that was his imagination? He wasn’t sure, but the thought was enough to nearly make him jolt - but you were enough to keep him as still as he could be. He looked at how peaceful you looked, and he felt his heart swell at just how warm you were against him and the memory of your lips haunted him as he felt his skin grow hotter. If remembering kissing you was enough to make him completely flustered, anything more would probably kill him.

            Eventually, you woke up, groggy and sleep-ridden still at first as you sat forward and rubbed at your face. “Jeremy, I hate to break it to you-” You paused, yawning, “-but you aren’t a great pillow.”

            He chuckled at that, sitting forward. “Hey, uh... sorry to, uh, ask, but, uh, do... do you remember anything about last night...?”

            You stared at him, uncertain at first before you thought back on what had happened. You threw your notebook at your bag. And then... It came back to you, striking you hard and fast. “Oh.”

            “I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I just - I was tired and I wasn’t thinking and I shouldn’t have...” 

            And he slowly trailed off when he saw the way you were looking at him, voice caught in his throat as your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and then back. He heard you whisper something - “fuck it,” he was pretty sure - before you started going in for another kiss - and he leaned forward to meet you halfway, a hand sliding into your hair as you grow closer to him. The night before had been gentle, sleep-ridden and warm - and now the two of you are awake and clumsy and so wonderfully alive during this messy kiss. His teeth had clashed against yours, your forehead bumped against his, but you correct. A little less force, a little more gentleness, a changing of an angle - the tiny ways to make things better and less awkward.

            In a bold move you definitely didn’t expect, Jeremy’s hand falls to your hips, pulling you closer to him by your belt loops (a cruel reminder that you were asleep in jeans). His kisses grew slightly more frantic, more hungry, more needy - the tiniest little whimper slipping past his lips once you finally pull yourself back, breathing softly as you stared at him. His hand slipped back to your jaw, thumb grazing your jawline slowly and gentle.

            “Jeremy?” you whispered, staring at him, “wait, you-”

            “I... I know we were gonna try to be friends, but... I think I like you.”

            You stared at him, flustered as he tore his gaze away from yours - a pretty rosy hue decorating his skin, blotchy and creeping up his neck to the tips of his ears. 

            “I, uh, I mean, I didn’t... I never planned on, uh... I just - I don’t - I, uh, I think you’re... a big nerd. You... you laugh with me and you, uh, you care about things - and you... you remember things about me - and, uh, other people do but... you’re just... you’re different.” He trailed a thumb across your skin. “You... feel like home. Even, uh, even if this... doesn’t really go anywhere, I - I’m glad that I know you and- I understand if you don’t, uh, don’t actually want this to go anywhere but-”

            And you laughed. At first his stomach dropped, anxiety taking over as he grew nervous over the thought of you rejecting him - but something about the way you laughed made his heart flutter, one hand steadying yourself on his shoulder while the other hid your face.

            “I... I don’t really know how to explain it better, but... can I, uh, can I kiss you again?”

            And you laughed again, reaching up to brush back hair from his face. “Yes, Jeremy. You can kiss me again.”

[thetalentedmripley]

hi i ADORE your blog!!!!! you are an amazing human being and I am so glad I found you on this hellsite (affectionate). n e ways, I have tons of questions and idk if u answered already bc my memory is shit so sorry if you’ve already answered in the past! in no particular order: favourite colour? maybe a uquiz recommendation? the best book to film adaptation (any genre really)? if u could travel back in time, when and where would you go? how do you like your tea (if you like tea, that is. if not, what’s your favourite drink?)? what are 5 things that made you happy today? what’s your favourite place in the world and why? favourite planet/star? all time favourite artist/your favourite artist(s) of the moment? thoughts on the Very Serious cereal & milk debate (hah, my phone corrected milk to milf... not that I use that word often ofc haha ha...) : which one comes first? whilst we’re on that topic, which came first, the chicken or the egg? why did the chicken cross the road? do you think life has a meaning? do you believe in fate? do you believe in astrology? what are your thoughts on apple products? how are you feeling, right now and in general?

okay I might have gotten carried away . oopsie doopsie anyway I hope u have an AMAZING day!!!!! I love you!!!!

HI omg ok before i answer these (which i am very excited to do, by the way) i absolutely demand that you dm me so i can know who you are bc this is just so kind and sweet and it honestly made my week!!!! <3

-my favorite color is lavender/periwinkle, the middle ground between those

-idk which quiz to recommend so here’s one i made last year: https://uquiz.com/B8jZnM

-carrie is probably my favorite book-to-movie, at least in terms of doing the book justice

-hmMmmmmm i think i’d go to ancient greece and absorb as much knowledge about their secret rites and rituals as possible

-tea is my absolute favorite drink!!!! ok so my favorite is harney and son’s “victorian london fog” which is an amazing earl grey,,, and i drink it w a bit of sugar and a dash of oat milk

-5 things that made me happy today: receiving this ask, chicken nuggets, my dog, a very nice customer at work, and nick from new girl.

-i honestly don’t know what my favorite place in the world is because i don’t think i’ve found it yet

-the andromeda constellation is my fav bc i loved it as a kid for some reason

-i literally cannot choose a favorite artist bc i love so many but i recently started listening to boy pablo and i am now a big fan

-i pour my cereal first, but power to anyone who can put the milk first and get the ratio right (also i laughed so hard at the milf thing pls)

-chicken nuggets came first, actually

-the chicken crossed the road bc he wanted to recreate the famous beatles abbey road album cover

-i think life has a meaning if you give it one !

-i do believe in fate :) 

-astrology is weird bc i believe in it but i also dont?? like it can be very accurate sometimes but that’s also just confirmation bias. idk how much i identify with my own sign (sagittarius) and supposedly id fall under that 13th zodiac sign if it was accepted (ophiuchus)

-i use mostly apple products and have adapted to them but sometimes i really miss Windows xp ya know??

-right now i feel content and a little sleepy!! in general i feel okay i think :) been better, been worse

<333 thank u again for these questions i had fun thinking about them !!! ily <3

[rorynne]

Of Geese and Men

Square: College @clintbartonbingo

Rating: G

Warning: Fluff, Geese, Goose harassment. College au, Physics Homework

Pairing: Clint Barton/Reader

A/n: This is also part of @geosaurusrrex 2k milestone event with the prompt  “I need your homework because a goose ate mine. DONT ASK HOW”

Summary:  You were having an average day until Clint Barton decides to harass a goose.

You sat in the cafeteria eating your lunch and reading a book as you waited for your next class. It had been a rather typical day until a very wet, tall, vaguely familiar blond man approached you. You damn near jumped out of your skin when he slammed his hands down on the table, dripping water all over it. “You’re in Pym’s applied physics class.” He stated more than asked, which only served to confuse you more at his state. “I need your help.”

You blinked at the man, moving your things away from his dripping form as you tried to piece together what the hell was going on. “What?” was all that you managed to say to the man, completely dumbfounded. You had too many questions to know what to even begin to ask.

He huffed, carding his hand through his short hair. “I need your homework because a goose ate mine.”

Homework? Geese? What the hell was he even talking about? You shook your head, still reeling from the shock of it all, “How?”

“Don’t ask how!” He groaned, rubbing his face. “It’s a long story. I just need your homework, I’ve been doing the bare minimum in Pym’s class and I can’t afford to take a zero on it.” Slowly, things started to piece together. You remembered seeing him occasionally, rarely even, in your physics class, albeit in a much drier state. Clint was his name if you remembered correctly. But that wasn’t what mattered at the moment, instead, you were more focused on something else.

“We had homework?!” You squeaked out as you scrambled to take out your course syllabus from your bag.

“You’re kidding,” Clint said in horrified disbelief. “You’re the only person who even pays attention in his class. How could you not know? He assigned it a month ago.” You shot him a glare as the syllabus confirmed his claims. Two full chapters of course work due the day of the first test. You wanted to vomit. You had been working your ass off to get on the Dean’s list this semester. But now all of your efforts felt wasted, all because of one little mistake. If you weren’t so shocked, you’d cry.

Clint seemed to notice your distress, quickly changing his entire demeanor. “Hey, it’s okay.” He reassured. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ve got, what, two hours til Pym’s class?” He glanced at the clock on the wall, confirming the time with a nod. Looking back down at you, he picked up your bag from the table, “Come on, let’s get down to the library. We’ve got this.”

You looked at him, incredulous, was he seriously implying the two of you could get through a month’s worth of course work in two hours? You could count the number of times you had seen him in class on one hand. Did he even have any idea on how to properly do the homework? “You can’t seriously think we can complete two chapters in two hours.”

He shrugged, “It’s only one chapter if we split the work.” The way he said it made it seem like the easiest thing in the world. And strangely, you found yourself wanting to believe it. “Come on sweetheart, we don’t have all day, and neither of us wants our grades to tank right?”

You took a deep breath, “You’re right. And partial credit is better than no credit anyway.” You stood up and collected your things. “But,” you said, taking your bag from him. “I think the library has a wetness rule or two.”

He smiled sheepishly and surrendered your bag with a chuckle. “You make a fair point. I’ll meet you there. Just take what ever chapter you like more. I’ll take the scraps.” You nodded in response and hurried to the library as Clint dealt with his wet clothing.

It only took about ten minutes for Clint to join you in the library, much to your surprise. “What, did you sprint to the dorms? They’re at least 15 minutes away.” You commented, looking over Clint’s much drier form as he sat down.

He shook his head, his hair still noticeably damp. “I keep a spare change of clothes in my gym locker.”

You have him a look, “Does stuff like this happen often?” You questioned, vaguely concerned for the man’s life choices.

He took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks before exhaling slowly. “More often than I’d care to admit.” He said before craning his neck over to see what you were working on. A smile spread across his lips as he read the chapter you were on. “You left me the trajectory chapter then?”

You looked down at your book and nodded, “Uh, yeah. I figured I would just start with the easier chapter.”

“Sweetheart, your gonna have to look at me when you talk.” He said, tapping his ear. “The lake water ruined my hearing aids.”

If his statement wasn’t so bizarre, you might have been embarrassed by your small blunder. “Excuse me, Lake water? What the hell did you exactly do?” You knew he had to have gotten wet somehow, but you didn’t expect it to be in the school lake. But then, there was a goose involved.

Clint rubbed the back of his neck, turning slightly pink. “My friend Tony bet me five hundred bucks to try to steal one of the goose’s eggs,” he said, playing with his pencil, not looking at you. “I, uh, didn’t expect the goose to be so mean.”

You stifled a laugh, “You didn’t- Have you ever seen a goose before?” You asked between giggles. “Mean is all a goose knows how to be.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, still pink-faced, but smiling before nudging you with his elbow. “I’m glad you got to have a good laugh out of it. I’ll be sure to tell you about some of my other adventures next time.” You had to admit, you were a little curious to hear what other trouble he had managed to get himself into. It seemed like a common occurrence for him.

“Maybe after we get this done.” You smiled pointing to your book. “You said it yourself, we don’t have much time to lose.”

“Alright then, consider it a date.” He said with a wink making your heart flutter before he opened his own, waterlogged, book. Part of you wanted to ask if he was joking about the date, but he spoke up before you could. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He grinned. You gave him a nod before filing your question away for later and turning your focus to your work.

The pair fo you quickly lost track of time between flirty banter and physics equations. You liked Clint. More than you expected to like someone who had rushed up to you dripping wet and demanding help. Actually, you liked him a lot more than you expected to like anyone you had just met. He was funny and deceptively smart for a man who was supposedly on the verge of failing the class.

He finished his work long before you finished yours, claiming trajectories to be easy thanks to his experience with archery. Which was something he clearly loved far more than any of the classes he was taking. You could listen to him talk about it for hours with the way his face lit up when he did. He really had no business being as interesting as he was, you decided.

He was checking your work when you heard him swear. You looked up from your notes to see him scrambling to get his things together. “What’s going on?” You asked, eyes wide at his distress.

“We’re half an hour late to class!” He said, stuffing your work into your book and closing it, pushing it into your arms. Book in hand, you jumped up as if you had been electrocuted.

“Shit. Pym isn’t going to let us into class!” You swore as you collected your things and hurried after Clint.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him. “I’ll just pick the lock. Just stick to the back row and he won’t notice.”

“Where the hell did you learn how to pick locks?” You asked as he pushed open the door to the physics building.

“A guy gets bored. I thought we already covered that I make questionable life choices.” Clint said quickly before stopping in front of an open classroom door, mouth agape.

You stopped next to him, eyes landing on a paper posted to the door frame. Phys 114, it read, canceled for the day. Signed Professor Pym. You stared at it dumbstruck. “All of that rushed work was for nothing?”

“Not for nothing.” Clint shrugged with a bob of his head. “If I recall, we did get a date out of the deal.”

You blinked and gave a small scoff of surprised laughter. “You were really serious about that?”

Clint frowned disappointment clear on his face, “Did you… Did you not want to?”

“No!” You objected, “No it’s not that! I’d love to have a date with you. I just thought- It doesn’t matter what I thought. I would love a date. Just, maybe with no geese.”

Clint broke into a wide grin that made your heart flutter. “Can’t make any promises about that sweetheart. I did promise you stories about my adventures.”

You giggled as smiled, “Someone needs to protect the school’s goose population from you.”

“From me?!” He asked with false offense, lips turned up with laughter. “They ate my homework!”

[thewindsofsong]

@cross-d-a tagged me like 2 days ago. This took me waaay too long to do

rules: answer 30 questions and tag however many blogs you want!

name: thewindsofsong, wind, windy, song, twos, but mainly thewindsofsong. Pretty much everywhere I’m on the internet I am thewindsofsong. 

gender: she/her

star sign: aries

height: 5’4”. I think?

time: 12:46 pm

birthday: april 10th

favorite bands: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…………. I dont even know anymore. Is florence and the machine a band or solo artist? Pentatonix? 

favorite solo artists: Regina Spektor, Mitski 

last movie: Legend of Loulan (with Liu Chang)

last show: Ultimate Note. Very good, highly recommend 

when did i create this blog: 2012? I think?

what i post: mostly reblogs of very random stuff (hence the blog name) but increasing the amount of original posts, mostly centered around 

last thing i googled: how to translate “old cat lady” into chinese

other blogs: There’s twoscats where i reblog all the cute animals on my dash. I used to have that queu filled up to the brink, but its lucky to have 1-2 posts a day now...

do i get asks: Not really. The one’s I’ve gotten are usually the “pass this on!” type which are really sweet to get, but then I never remember to do anything with…. 

why i chose my url: thewindsofsong has been my online username since basically forever. I think of it as my online self’s name. To use anything else would almost feel like misnaming myself at this point.

following: 128. I go through and unfollow inactive blogs pretty regularly and I like keeing the number around 100. I don’t think I’ve ever gone over 150.

followers: 642. More than 2/3s of them are probably deactivated/dead blogs that haven’t been active in years. Its what happens when you’re tumblr is old i guess

instruments: I did learn piano but haven’t really played in years. Did percussion back when i was in school, but haven’t been able to do that in years either. I have a ukulele that I pick up every once in a while

what i am wearing: pjs. I’ve been wearing pjs for months now. I don’t want to start wearing regular cloths again.

dream job(s): housewife? I was working like a productive human until covid happened and I burned out of my job like a sparkler. I’d think being an artisanal soap maker would be fun.

dream trip: Japan would be a lot of fun. My Japanese is a horrible, terrible thing, but it’d be enough to get around with a good translation app. I’d like to go back to China some time too to visit family, but that side of the family is SO MUCH and I am easily overwhelmed.

favorite foods: I don’t know if i really have a favorite food? I like garlic a lot. Mushrooms are also really good but my partner hates them. Tomato and egg stir fry on rice is a comfort food from childhood

nationality: american

favorite song: None currently, mostly because I’ll listen to anything in particular at the moment.

last book i read: Does fanfic count? If not, then I’m currently reading a translation of ChongQi. I really don’t read books anymore… just fanfiction….

top 3 fictional universes i’d like to live in: star trek because capitalism doesn’t exist there any more. I could be the lazy bum I’ve always wanted to be there. Next would probably be the Unsleeping City  from D20.  Magical NYC just seems like it would be so much fun; not to mention that if I managed to learn prestidigitation, I’d open a laundromat and clean laundry at very low costs and therefor, very low price. Considering my current obsession, I feel like I have to say DMBJ for the last one. I’d never go down into a tomb because I’d die instantly. I’d go to school and specialize in grief counseling and then make bank specializing in tomb robbers. Last would be Yuuri on Ice universe because then I could see the epic romance between the world’s top male figure skaters happen in real life.

Tagging: whoever wants to do this?