#i am ordering so much fucking shit i’m too indecisive to be having my own wedding

[johndonneswife]

still thinking abt this pani puri we had three days ago

[bipolylingual]

A little (anti) capitalist dream

My personal thoughts on commitment to oneself, jobs, time blindness, sensory overload and third places.

Because of how I’m naturally inclined, I wish I’d have the following happen to me. I want to be forced to wake up for work, and then, once I’m on the bus to town, be informed that I have the day off. Yes, that is what I would like. At a fresh but not painful hour, like 9 o’clock in the morning, I would get up and spend no more than 35 minutes getting ready. Why is that time, and whatever I accomplish in that time good enough on my work days, but not on my days off? Somehow my hair looks good enough barely styled, the outfit I throw together will do and I don’t procrastinate filling my cats food bowl and scooping her shit. I gotta go, got a bus to catch and a day to live. I do not have (make) time to eat, which sucks and I rely too much on working in a grocery store inside a mall, which could be its own capitalist comment. Plus the food offered there isn’t even that great.

Anyway. That morning routine might not sound nice to everyone, but to me, the other version is much much worse. Or has the potential to be. I’m realising that having that one bus to catch leaves little room to think. In the best way. So then getting ready on my day off, can so fucking easily slip into becoming my own personal hell. 

The languidity of it all. When does luxury become boring? When does eating cake make you feel sick to your stomach? And we all know time is a luxury. So, the fucking sweaty, slow, indecisive, fussy languidity of it all. That is the reason I would love that kind of day, why I need to feel like I’m going to work and am expected at the precise time. And when am I the most interested in the world and looking at what new stores there are in town and looking at other people and writing my ideas and sketching in a coffee shop and buying gifts for an upcoming birthday and reading poetry? 

Standing under the fluorescent lights in my uniform that came with the nearly minimum wage. 

Maybe my personal hell or curse is just wanting to be somewhere other than I am. 

So I wake up, realistically closer to 11 o’clock. I check the weather and try on an outfit. Then a different top. Nope. Where are those pants? Okay, I’m not making the bus I wanted to (not had to). I find an outfit, I’m already a bit sweaty, the hair at the back of my neck irritates me. I sit down to do my makeup. (I want to get out of here. Into the temperature the outfit is meant for, get started.) Yet I find myself going through my saved Instagram posts, my saved Tiktoks for makeup inspiration. (This was supposed to be a functional step to get me out. Of. the. house.) So not the time for inspiration and fucking brainstorming and definitely not trying something new that I will probably hate. After finishing that part, which I either love or can physically feel on my face which makes me want to rub my skin off, I need to pack. Oh, my cats food. I check the time and see I’ve missed the next bus I was going to take. I tend to my cat, rub her small head and finally, the air hits my face. 

It’s almost 1 o’clock. 

I need to keep moving in order to not scream and completely melt down at that realisation or at my still-sweaty back or still- empty stomach, and try to keep it out of my mind how few hours of daylight there are left. 

The library is free and quiet, but I think the air is pretty bad because I feel lethargic so soon, while cafés are nicer but loud with cramped wobbly tables and of course the overpriced drink or snack aka entrance fee. So much for third spaces. 

I am aware that these things wouldn’t change in the case of my dream day, but I know my tolerance of them would. When I have a good day in town, I do not think like that. 

So on my dream-day I embody much more of what I want to be. The kind of woman I want to be. Effortless, yet, with a purpose. Driven by inspiration and a foundational belief that of course it must be pursued. Because I’d only live the first half, the tight scheduled, extremely efficient morning. Not the second half where I’m an adult that has to stand for 8 hours and ask permission to go take a piss. 

I’d leave my house slightly frazzled in a chic way, with a book or two in hopes of reading on the bus. I’m listening to music I like. I have five minutes, so there isn’t room for much else in my head. No room for doubts about my clothes or makeup (or lack thereof) or what I brought or didn’t bring with me. I’ve started my day and it’s only onward from here. 

They say perfectionism and procrastination go hand-in-hand. That’s why I need that cut-off, you know? I must leave at that time, no wiggle room and once I’m out, I’m out. No going back and perfecting. No going back and fussing. 

That’s difficult to feel when I’m not accountable to anyone but myself. And unfortunately, how it feels, rules everything. 

So I sit on the bus, bright and early and watch the beautiful sky. I am free because I’m confined to my schedule. After a while I’m a ways away from home, and I get a phone call. Or a text message. 

And all at once, my day is mine again. 

I get off the bus in town. After all, I’m already here! It’s only mid morning. I’m not ideally prepared, but I’m dressed, I have all my essentials and nothing but time and a bright sky. I do not think about how overpriced the coffee is, or how one table leg is too short. It doesn’t feel like so much of a nauseating indulgence, as much as that I have been granted permission. Again, I'm already here. I marvel at how much (potentially) fruitful time I have ahead of me. The very best hours to get things done, in fact, according to modern society. Because we all know not all hours of the day are created equal. I look out the window and make a plan. And if it turns out I didn’t bring my notebook, it's okay, because my neck isn’t sweaty and I can just use the computer at the library. 

[dingus-on-stardust]

I am freeee, freeee from the shackles of Caliches

Never thought a damn ice cream CUSTARD shop would make me lose my absolute mind. Hated every second lmao. Tea below the read more, but I mostly just wanted to update it for y’all ✌🏼

Coworkers were always on me, no matter what I did I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t fast enough. I got written up for not knowing how to clean the outside of the store, despite it being the first time I’ve done it on my own. Shit if I wanted to be subjected to that I would’ve just stayed home. I never felt like I was close with any of them either, not that I wanted to be, but friends would’ve made the whole experience slightly less shitty. Just, everyone seemed so distant, so cold, only interacting with me to put me down or to say go faster. I get that’s the food industry in a nutshell, but I still hated it and do not want to go back.

Customers were far more patient to a point, there were some lovely people I’ll genuinely miss, but the jackasses poisoned it for everyone.

The irate ones who I guess needed to vent and took it out on the cashier, who get mad about every little thing.

The indecisive ones, who spend forever at the menu, backing up the line, change their minds every few seconds. I get it, it’s overwhelming, there’s a lot of options, maybe it’s your first time, but please park, and go to the front window and order.

The specific ones, they were a 50/50. Sometimes I appreciated the minute details, it helped me figure out what the hell you wanted. Other times it left me more confused like, “ma’am/sir I have no clue what you’re wanting me to ask my coworkers for just stick to the menu”.

The impatient ones, who spout off their entire order at once, get mad when I barely got any of it, and also complain when it doesn’t get here immediately. Like, my coworkers as difficult as they are, they are pretty fast all things considered. Just give them a minute dude calm down.

And finally, the “you don’t have [X] here?” People. Guys, the store only carries vanilla and chocolate, if you want they can make pretty much any flavor you want, but in a cup blended together. I can’t fault them too much, but it did irritate me whenever people got really mad like “what do you mean I can’t get a scoop of mint chocolate chip that’s all I came here for”.

On top of all that, the workplace seemed to change dramatically from when I started only a few months ago. They no longer offer free lunch on Fridays*

On Fridays of non payday weeks, they used to order pizza or other things as an incentive I guess?

They do not give us our tips. I’m not sure where the money goes, but it’s not going to me or anyone else. They used to, and they still proudly display the tip bucket at the counter, but we don’t see a cent of it anymore. I found this out very late, and attempted to quietly warn customers and refuse tips when I could.

Ok I feel better, that was a lot. Sorry for the long rant, I just needed to get that all off my chest now that I’m gone.

TL;DR

In short, I’m glad I’m gone, and fuck that place.

[kashimos-hajime]

sawdust and plastic | g.t.

summary: you learn two things from your first real fight with goro. 1) he apologizes through cooking. 2) he hates it when they argue.

WARNINGS: spoilers for the gimme danger main job, swearing, slight angst, theye just communicating pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.2k

a/n: written with a fem!street-kid v who used to be a corpo kid. also dont yell at me but i rearranged v's apartment so the couch goes on all 3 sides bc comfortable :^) crossposted on ao3! enjoy :) 

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

Sitting down on the couch, you kick up your feet for the first time in what you feel like has been ages. From Jackson Plains to reconnaissance on the Arasaka warehouse, you haven’t eaten shit besides the yakitori Takemura had ordered at that booth which already felt like ages ago. It’d been good—better than the trash you’ve eaten as a kid so you don’t really get picky—but you can’t help but recall the disgust on Takemura’s face when he had taken a single bite.

“Sawdust and plastic.”

You snort, running hands over your face and tilting your head back. Stupid fucking Japanese man with an endearing sense of dry-humour and… zero tolerance for your cheeky smiles. 

Then he had to go ahead and bring up Jack.

His words, cold, callous, echo in your skull like a goddamn radio and you squeeze your eyes tight, raking your hands down your face and melting into the couch. No matter how much you wanna stop it, you can’t help hearing it over and over and over.

Grabbing the remote, you’re about to switch on a channel in hopes you catch something that cna take your mind off everything when there’s a knock on your door.

For a moment, you truly debate telling them to fuck off but then, there is a pause.

“V.”

Eyes widening, your body goes rigid at the sound of his voice.

“V, let me in before I look anymore foolish.”

In the back of your head, you tempt the idea of just leaving him out there, pretending like you’ve fallen asleep, but then you get up anyway against your better judgement. You drag your feet over the floor, picking up old takeout boxes you haven’t had time to clean up and tossing clothes into a hamper to make your apartment look more like an organized mess than the dumpster fire you know Takemura will scold you for.

When you reach the door, you let him in without a word and you note the bags he holds on, hoisting them over to your living room counter.

“What’s this?” you question wearily. “Goro, I’m not hungry.”

“I realized I must apologize for my harsh words.” Beginning to pull out the groceries, you walk over and peer inside the bag, frowning. All the stuff inside is cheap synth shit, nothing you haven’t eaten before, but you’re still confused as to what’s going on since you don’t exactly have a kitchen in your place, but then out of one of the thicker bags, Takemura pulls out a big box.

“For saying them?”

“Yes." He sets the box down before continuing with groceries. “Earlier, I told you if I had time and resources, I would cook onigiri.”

“With cod, or grilled salmon. Or umeboshi plums, because they were Saburo’s favourite,” you finish and he sends you a look that could’ve been a smile if his lips had curved more and his eyes meant it. “I remember.” Helping him with the big box, you cut it open and find a rice cooker within. Eyeing the contraption with an arched eyebrow, you can’t help but ask: “Where’d you find this stuff?”

“It was difficult. I had to lower my standards.” 

“Lowering standards,” you echo dryly, unable to help your empty smile. “Yeah. We do that a lot in grand ole NC.” He doesn’t seem amused by you even trying to help as you sit down on the couch, twist to watch him work. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“I am cooking to apologize. It would not be honourable for you to help me,” he replies shortly and you nod to yourself, turning back around to watch the news. Nothing about a break-in with the floats, nothing at all indicating… anything.

For some reason, it makes you uneasy. The last time you snuck into an Arasaka building, everything went to shit and it made its mark. The lack of visible ripples makes you feel like nothing’s happened at all. Like it’s all been a fever dream, and you and Takemura didn’t sit on that roof for hours, watching the cat, just… talking.

Jesus, you need to get laid.

“Still don’t know why you bother cooking,” you say. Takemura noticeably stiffens and even though you don’t see it, you can almost feel the way he manipulates the air he stands in. He has that power—pure corpo power—and you clench your jaw. “Why waste time on someone so lazy as me?”

“V—"

“Nah, my bad. Arrogant. Hell, you probably see all the takeout around here and think I’m taking some easy route to food.” The bitterness is enough to puncture holes in steel as you stare blankly at the screen. “After all, I dirty my hands for money,” you quote. Your chest tightens as you hear his voice echo in yours, the way he had said it so coldly. Stomach turning, you shake your head. “Not in the name of some fucking principles.”

There’s a silence on his end and you close your eyes, swallowing through the bruising in your throat, a telltale sign you’re holding back tears. Just the mention of Jackie makes you want to spiral and you take a deep breath, trying not to react.

For the first time, you think Johnny might be right.

“Damn right, I am,” a voice says and you open your eyes, gaze fluttering to the side to see Johnny lounging against your couch. You turn around to see Takemura’s moved to the bathroom, probably to clean rice… however the fuck you make onigiri. You don’t know. You’re too tired to care about food, or feelings, or anything. “Never can trust a corpo. They all want one thing.”

“I don’t need to remind you that I was a corpo kid, do I?”

“Not anymore. It’s about principles.” Johnny’s tone is wry and you scowl at him. “What? If there’s one thing you might be able to relate to is that you both have ‘em. His might be wrong as shit, but…”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive him. This guy’s got you wrong, V. You don’t waste time on people like that.”

“I don’t have time to stay angry with him,” you argue. “The fact is, I’m dying and he’s gonna be the only one who can save me.” Johnny sits up straight, leaning on his knees and you sigh, shaking your head. Resting your arm along the back of the couch, you fit your hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“Stop. Don’t do it, V. It’s not worth it,” Johnny warns, standing up and you wrench your gaze up as you shift your feet on the floor and lean forward, burying your face in your hands. “I can feel everything you are feeling, and if I have to deal with your indecisive debates on whether or not it’s worth it to become attached to this corp piece of shit, I’ll kill myself.”

“You’re already dead, Johnny.”

“Let me live a little.” He stands and edges around you as if he were real and you rest your chin in your palms, watching as his holographic imagine crosses you before glitching back into view again across the table. He sits down. “The truth is, you’re gonna have a hell of a problem.”

“I know.”

“So, stop.” Johnny says it like it’s so easy and you chew on your cheek as the faucet turns off and you turn around to see Takemura begin to leave your bathroom. His pale eyes catch yours and you turn around only to see your brain tumour’s gone and left you alone. It’s eerily quiet in your head and you stand, clearing your throat.

Takemura slips the clean rice into the rice cooker before closing it and you cross your arms below your breasts, squeezing yourself tightly. You feel bare in your clothes despite wearing your scuffed jacket. He regards you warily, and then he sighs, gesturing to the couch—a silent ask.

 You nod, stepping back and letting him take where you were sitting earlier. You retreat across from him, where Johnny was sitting and he glances around your apartment. You wonder if he’s judging even more of you, but then he looks into his hands, swallowing visibly. 

“V—"

“You’re not the only one with principles. Just because I kill for money don't mean I'd do anything for it,” you begin coldly, leaning back and studying him. “And nothing about my life has been easy. When I said you did what you had to do to keep food on the table, that wasn’t me judging you. That was me getting it, alright, Goro?” His eyes meet yours and you arch an eyebrow, scoffing. “Not my problem if you don’t believe me. Yeah, I oppose corps, because they ruined my life, and so many other people’s lives no one can count 'em, but that doesn't mean you're any better than me. You don’t get to make assumptions about me. You never get to make assumptions about Jackie.That is all I have to say.”

He nods, accepting your harsh tone and you bite your tongue, trying not to burn down the bridge anymore than you need to as you prop a foot up against the table. Takemura doesn't say anything for a hot moment and you think you've wasted your time. Your knee jiggles. He doesn't even look at you.

Then: “I must again say that we are both still grieving. We ache to lash out. That is why I said what I said, and why, I presume, you say what you say.” He steeples his fingers and regards you with those eyes, gorgeous in their own right. “I understand what I said was callous. You have been nothing but understanding to my own loss.”

“No shit.”

“And I understand Mr. Welles was your friend.”

“He was like my brother,” you correct icily. “He’s been there for me since the beginning, I—I can’t forgive you saying something like that about him so easily, Goro.”

He dips his head. “I understand. It is why I cook for you. It is how I best express myself." The corner of his mouth tugs up faintly in a mirthless facsimile of a smile before he exhales sharply through his nose, looking at you again. "I confess I have not had time recently to cook, but I will do my best.” Johnny’s link comes to life at the mention and your own stomach squirms silently. “We are in this together, V. I do not wish for you to be angry at me.”

“Don’t do it, V. Don’t take it.”

“Fuck off, Johnny. I’m starving.” Aloud, you say: “I’ll be angry for a while. Just… let me sleep on it and we'll see from there.” He nods and you let your arms fall to your sides as you sit up. “It’s been a long few days, so I just… I just want to not think about anything for a while, you know?”

“I understand.”

He says that a lot, you notice. 

“Thank you for apologizing, at least,” you continue grudgingly. “Thanks.” You stand and gesture vaguely around the place. “Make yourself at home. I’m… I’m going to shower and scrub this grime off.” Dried blood, sweat, dirt, et cetera. He nods and stands as well, returning to the tiny cooking station he’s made for himself. You head to your closet, managing to pick out a clean shirt that’s a bit big and a jacket you ripped off a 6th Street goon a few weeks back. You just picked it up from the cleaners.

Heading for the bathroom, you set your crap on the toilet cover before poking your head out. Spotting Takemura sitting in front of the table, carefully sharpening a knife, you wait until he’s noticed you staring and he prompts you silently to ask.

“How’d you even know where I live, anyway?” 

He turns his gaze back on the blade.

“Ms. Olszewski marked it in my map, should the need arise.”

“This was a need?” you ask, curiously sardonic. Takemura doesn’t smile back and again, you get that impression he either doesn’t know how or he doesn’t do it often enough to remember. For some reason, that makes you sad. "Could've left it well enough alone. You know that."

“Oh, come on, V,” Johnny murmurs in your ear. “Don’t wax poetics on this guy.”

You ignore him.

“I do not enjoy the thought of a rift between you and I,” admits Takemura. He sets down the knife and sighs, eyes flitting to you briefly. Your hand wraps around the doorframe and you press your lips into a faint frown. "I... I have grown used to you."

You nod despite the words punching into your chest. “I don’t like it when we fight either.” At least, that you don’t have to fight twice to figure out. Your expression eases and your shoulders drop. “I’ll just hop in. Help yourself to whatever you can find. Really.” He accepts your offer with another nod and you close the door. It locks and you press your back against the metal, tipping your head back.

“For the love of—“

“Shut it, Johnny. Just… just give me a second.”

And on one of the rare occassions that he listens to you, Silverhand says nothing about how your heart doesn’t feel like wrought iron anymore.

[highsviolets]

fire, but sweet: javier peña x reader

pairing: javier peña x f!reader (facetime javi au) 

summary: @obitwo requested i’m just thinking about javi tugging on my ponytail as a cute lil gesture and it’s making me way too soft hehe but also him pulling it to get Neck Access for Kisses™️

warnings: we are SOFT in this chili’s. none. 

a/n: i told claire it would publish this before midnight and I almost succeeded. **i know i am very behind on comments and i am so, so sorry. schools has been kicking my butt. the minute i turn in my last assignment on friday i am sitting down with a glass of whiskey  and responding to EVERY SINGLE ONE🥰** 

taglist form l series masterlist 

gif by @pvscvls​

It’s your turn to tackle linen duty this Sunday, having spent the past few hazy weekend afternoons at his while he irons shirts (the rare moments you’re not watching his lithe form from the couch, you’re in his tiny kitchen, meal prepping for you both. Lord knows the man doesn’t eat enough).

In-unit washer-and-dryer units are hard to come by in L.A., but somehow, when you had been searching for a new apartment a while back, this one had fallen into your lap. You suspected it had something to do with a client who was rather grateful about the press buzz about following their dazzling appearance at the Oscars, and when you had told Javi that on your second — third? — dinner date, he laughed, a rare moment of unrestrained joy springing forth from a deep-seated and virtuous hope.

“Is that so, baby?” he had asked, head tilting slightly as he regarded you from across the table. “You’re just one of those people that everyone else absolutely adores despite your best efforts; is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Fringes of dark hair curled around his forehead, wilting in the oppressive heat, but the chocolate eyes hidden behind those ridiculous amber-toned aviators didn’t waver, even as a smirk pouted his lips.

You kicked him under the table, looking away in the process. No, no no, you protested, fuck all that good girl shit, you know?

And Javier had smiled and sipped his drink, thinking all the while that he had never seen anyone as goddamn perfect as you.

—

Now, though, it’s a delicate, daffodil-laden spring, gaudy pops of color peeking through the gray skies — that delicate interposition between spring and summer, where everyone’s holding their breath for life to begin again. Indecisiveness splits the atmosphere, and you’re no stranger to its sway, swiping open your phone to switch from a podcast to your favorite playlist as you continue folding laundry. Heaps of cotton and spandex and dozens of other fabrics find themselves attended to with care and piled on top of the washer as you sing along softly, gently swaying in time with the beat. Javier’s in your bedroom, you know, assembling the new bookshelf you had ordered online from IKEA.

But your voice carries easily in the small space, and soon Javier finds himself raising his head in  unobtrusive, lingering wonder, grace stealing his breath for just a heartbeat (he surely doesn’t need it then, sustained by the way your voice wraps around a space for living and breathes into it the essential ingredients of vivacity in such a way that it stretches itself in utter luxuriousness).

It compels him forward, the simplicity driving him to abandon the mess of screws and boards littered on the floor and to seek you out instead. Your mysterious existence is far more important than material things, he feels, without possessing the words to explain such a phenomena.

And yet he feels it all the same (words exist to explain that which is already real, after all), and it only intensifies as he comes to lean against the doorjamb, watching you work and letting your voice wash over him like a tonic.

For several long moments he is content to bask in your presence, in the waves of life that emanate from the small space. But suddenly the mood shifts, fracturing under the weight of observance. Cracks form fissures that travel upwards into his spine, integrating themselves into his neuropathways and telling him that it’s not enough.

Watching isn’t enough; it’s too placid, too based in him and not enough in all that you are. Javier needs to confirm that you’re real — he requires the roughness of you under his own skin, your ridges and dips and valleys, to chart your cartography. And despite the weight of the moment — the moment he realizes that oh, god, he thinks he might be in — there’s a playfulness easing the load, replacing the gravitas with one of joy, not fear.

So he does what he believes he should have done far earlier and strides forward, the music masking his heavy footsteps, to stand just close enough to reach out. And reach out he does, his hand extending forward to wrap thick fingers around the latent strands of your messy ponytail and tugging slightly. Not enough to hurt, just enough to say hey you; i see you.

Your reaction does not disappoint, dropping whatever it is you’re now folding, hips shifting in order to pivot and slap his chest. He’s too quick, though, hands dropping away from your hair and gripping your hips, locking you in place. “You know,” Javi whispers, “you’re pretty cute when you do that.” It’s inadequate at best, but oh, he prays you can understand why his voice is low and smooth, crushed velvet to your silk.

It seems you do, leaning back into his embrace with a small hum. “I’m glad you do. My high school choir teacher didn’t think so.”

Javi’s laugh is warm against your neck as he brushes the hair aside and begins dropping open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. His left hand travels upwards, skimming your sides, to gently pull away your t-shirt, and you tilt your head back onto his shoulder to give him more access. When you hitch your breath at his continued assault on your sensitive skin, Javi ignores you, continuing to press kisses on any hint of bare skin he can reach. His mustache tickles sometime, as does his unruly hair, but you lean into the sensation, finding it comforting after all these months of learning how to love it.

They’re leisurely kisses, warm ones that feel like home. it’s an act for its own sake, an aristotelian method of the good, if you will. Simply there to exist. Much like the way you have taught him to exist through long nights and FaceTime calls at all hours of the day and shared grocery runs to make he eats and the way he carries you after work events, feet too tired after being in heels all day or now, spending a Sunday afternoon building a bookshelf instead of poring over work.

“Feels good, Javier,” you mumble, eyes drifting close in the security of all he is to you, but especially in this moment in your apartment, doing laundry on a Sunday afternoon. “Thank you.”

No, you think you hear him whisper against your skin, one hand still wrapped around your hip, thank you, cariña.

javi tags! @frannyzooey @littlevodika @a-seeker-of-imagination @catsnkooks @goldenkenobi @teaofpeach @goldafterglow @the-purity-pen @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @justrunamok @mitchi-c @huliabitch @yespolkadotkitty @rzrcrst @justanotherblonde23 @themarvelousbear @wille-zarr @ladytrashbird @tastefulmisunderstanding @blancatobarxoxo @chogisss @keeper0fthestars @stardust-galaxies @mcu-padawan @anakin-danvers @rentskenobi @artsymaddie @princessxkenobi @dracos-jedi-marvel @thirstworldproblemss @lv7867 @thewayofthemandalorian  @cri-me-a-river **let me know if you want to be switched around!! **

[imemeyoumemeweallmeme]

Quotes from “Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier” as starters

But today could be the day I finally make a difference!

Where are you off to today, you no good piece of shit?

You’ve got to dream a little harder!

It took you long enough, you shit-eating dog.

Oh, so you think you're better than me just because you can read?

Just try to keep your fat face out of that motherfucking book.

Why am I the only one who sees things as they are?

Oh, ___, sometimes I feel you're my only friend in this world.

Today, things got a little out of hand and a lot of good people are dead.

Did we get the loaf of bread back?

Why do you even bother visiting us commoners anymore, you aristocat?

I sure hope you haven't goofed this one up, ___.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, look at this mess. Dead bodies in the street.

Did you know in this barbaric country they only give you money if you work?

Who would seek employment when life offers such enjoyment?

You're only in trouble if you get caught.

My father says that you must marry me now, or I'll bring dishonor to my entire family.

I can't give up on my dreams and settle down just 'cause your dad's being a dick.

‘Cause you stole my daughter’s hymen!

That’s completely fair, but in my defense - dude, your daughter’s hot.

My ass cheeks…they're hanging out.

And what's this? Blood. Blood on my ass cheeks. Tell me, ___, how the fuck did it get there?

Oh I am grateful for your tiny ass, ___!

This really is an act of war, ___!

Do not feed me shit and call it couscous, ___!

Well an hour free is better than a lifetime in a cage. Being fed and pampered and cleaned up after. What kind of a life is that?

When are you going to learn that your actions have consequences?

One of these days, you're going to learn that life isn't about dreams coming true. It's a series of compromises and disappointment.

That's supporting a corrupt system. You're a part of the problem.

I want everything, and more!

My secret is simple, really. Anyone could do it. I just follow the golden rule!

Always treat others like sisters and brothers and they’ll do the same for you.

I get back what I give!

My hunger blinded me and forced me to act like an animal.

But we're not animals. We're gifted with minds to reason and hearts to love!

I think that's enough fun for one day, eh, ___?

Well, we have our own golden rule here. Whoever has the gold…makes the rules.

The gold that my neighbor earns through his labor is gold I’ll never see.

So keep your mouth shut and your palm open, and you may just get...filthy stinkin' rich!

You could start by telling me your name.

I suppose this will be the end of me.

I am a servant to the people, and therefore your servant.

Magic does nothing if not touch the soul.

I want to know your story, I want to know your past, I want to know your future too.

Fill my days and nights with the tale of you.

I never cared for stories until you entered mine.

Let’s make ours the story with no end.

Their mouths aren't fit to hold a donkey's shit.

Many years ago, I took my finger…and I pushed in my penis…and it hasn't come out since.

A very wise and enthralling tale, ___. We can all learn a lesson from it, I expect.

Where's my opium?

Speak now, ___! And don't fuck it up!

Well, maybe I have a new purpose now.

That is what your story is about.

I wish I had the power to rewrite this tale.

Never stop wishing it, ___.

We will be reunited one day, and unlock wonders beyond your wildest dreams!

After all, I must be pretty great, if you believed in me.

I only hope you haven't fallen prey to some sex-crazed ruffian!

Right this way, babe.

This is so unfair! Poor people need slaves just as much as rich people do! Maybe even a little bit more.

Of course it's a free thinker like who's struggling to get by. And all because of our totally corrupt class system.

I hate the class system. That's why I said, "Fuck it, I'm never going to school again."

So, you abandoned everything, to be free? That is so brave.

Brave? Me? Yeah.

All my parents ever did was support me. Give me a place to stay, tell me they loved me, no matter what. They were really bad parents.

How's a thirty-three-year-old kid supposed to know how to survive on his own?

But that is not fair! ___’s a victim of circumstance!

Don't look at me like that! These are my orders from ___.

Wait, wait, what? You slit people's throats? I didn't tell you to kill anyone! This is awful!

___, no. That is just an expression.

I'm gonna have so much gold I could swim through it! Like a pool. Do you think people can really do that?

Once I get my mind set on a chick, I just can't move on until I get this nut out.

I can’t wait to be a rich dude!

Stealing is so much easier when you’ve got already tons of gold.

We’ll get our happy ending tonight.

We weren't sure if you were ever coming back, ___.

Everyone, look at my ass!

You received the manhood of a badger?

Those are stretch marks, they happen.

Oh, I see! You received the manhood of a tiger!

Did you hear that, lads? ___ made love to a tiger!

Tiger fucker! Tiger fucker! Tiger fucker!

I DID NOT FUCK A TIGER!!!

Am I not a thing of beauty? Don't you want a piece of this? Wouldn't you gladly give up all of your worldly possessions just to greet me when I come home from a one-sided massacre, and bathe my sweaty, bloody body with your tongue?

Oh…you. Aren't you busy ruining my life?

I noticed you weren't at dinner, but I saw you tried to poison my wine. Usually when you do that, it means you want to talk. What's up, are you mad at me?

You ripped my heart out and smashed it into a million pieces. And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about.

He/she/they was perfect! Like if you cobbled together all the best features from all the best guys/girls/people, and then gave them a tragic backstory! It's like he/she/they was designed specifically to appeal to me.

I knew everything about him/her/them! He/she/they was my soul mate! My -- my -- God, I am freaking out, what was his/her/their name?

Believe it or not, I care about you.

I don't want to be prepared. I want to expect the unexpected.

Look, you're young. You don't exactly get how things work yet. And, while I don't appreciate any of your ideas, I do appreciate the fact that you HAVE ideas. Maybe one day you'll have some GOOD ones.

Sexual predators the lot of them! Their tactics target vulnerable, young girls, and build up false senses of trust and then isolate them on magic rides of sorts. And when the moment is right, they whip it out. You know... their songs.

Be wary of young boys who whip out their songs. A song is often a prelude to a dick.

A song is a dick in sheep's clothing.

Can't you see I'm trying to impart a life lesson?

I feel like you only come to see me when there's bad news.

I counted thirteen dead before the peacocks got to them.

How the fuck did you know it was me?

Because it IS you, you're just wearing different clothes.

Wow. Pretty AND smart. You're the whole shebang, babe.

Everything I told you the other night was a lie. Don't you trust me?

Ugh. Oh no. Okay, um, now I'm kind of feeling like everything about you that was attractive to me before isn't really there anymore.

No! No, I'm just being indecisive. It's still you.

I've just got to get back on that high that I was on before.

Look into my eyes and talk to me some more about the world's injustice!

Sure. Just let me roll this blunt first.

But I don't want her/him/they to love me. I just want her/him/them to fuck me.

You guys know there's a way to get people to think about sex without even talking about sex? You just gotta do it subliminally.

Hey, babe, it's such a beautiful night -- take off your clothes.

But…let me ask you this: is your penis an innie or an outie?

___ explained everything to me. He/she/they was just pretending to be a ___. For fun.

I bet the ___ is under that ___ sized hat!

Bullshit! Why would I pretend to be a ___? Just to get laid? That's not me.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! Why are you picking on me, ___? Afraid I'll reveal your little secret?

Whoa! I thought I was just bullshitting you guys!

What made me think that I could get away with such a plot?

How does the golden rule apply in such a situation?

Whichever road I take, I will only encourage someone’s wrath!

‘Til now I’ve always traveled down the straight and narrow path.

But which way do I turn when the road’s become so... so... twisted?

You think you know me, as others think they know you, but there are two sides to every story.

I was prepared for anything, except for what ensued.

They weren't ready for my ideas.

Fortune favors the beautiful.

My only crime was love.

But the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes what it wants, is twisted.

I only wished to reclaim what was mine!

I only wished for equal rights for all!

I only wished to save her/him/them!

I only wished to be invited to the party!

I only wished to improve relations between the races!

I only wished to teach ___ responsibility… so he/she/they wouldn’t end up like me!

I only wished to give the people a voice… To help the miserable, lonely, and depressed!

I never knew my father!

It's an unfortunate situation…But you do have a choice.

What remains of a man when that man is dead and gone?

Why protect my reputation? I’m a dead man/woman/person either way!

How will they tell my story? How will they tell my tale? Will anybody even care?

Is it nobler in the mind to be well-liked but ineffectual, or moral but maligned?

If I hide to save my life, what has my life been for?

The road ahead may twist, but I will never swerve!

I’ll give them all the unsung antihero they deserve!

I’ve nothing left to lose, to the only path to choose is twisted.

So let them twist my words, let the people scorn me.

Who cares if no one will ever mourn me?

Let them bury the side of the story that they’ll never learn!

Let the truth be twisted!

Let my life be twisted!

I’ll be twisted, it’s my turn!

Your armies have abandoned you. Your ruling class is corrupt and we have come to put an end to your tyrannical rule!

You'll never end our tyrannical rule!

It is I who will be doing the fucking today.

It appears that ___ has cold feet!

Yes I am talking to you! Now get your ass over here!

I've got to become a sorcerer! Can you do that?

Yes, I do feel lucky. I've got a ___! But I think he might be a fucking moron!

My fuse is about this long right now.

You either need to back me the fuck up, or shut the fuck up. Got it?

And what's the last thing you wanna do before that happens? Take off your clothes. That's right, have sex! Hurry, take off your clothes.

I'm not going to take off my clothes in the middle of a battle!

My skin is melting!

Would you stop acting like an asshole for one minute?

I'm not a tease. I'm just…not a freak.

You're making sex seem gross and lame.

You got that, ___? We are not a thing anymore, okay?

We're just having our first fight. Maybe after some make up sex…

You're the guy who killed my parents. Where have you been?

Okay, Jesus Christ, I don't know what's going on here.

That's the trick! You just really have to believe your own bullshit!

It takes someone who believes they can change the world to actually do it.

This isn't fair! Life is supposed to be fair!

Your youth and your passion, and yes, your naïveté -- these give you power.

When I was your age, I thought I could accomplish anything I ever wanted and more! But I didn't. Perhaps no one does. But you have to think you will or you won't have the strength to try.

Maybe you won't make any big changes, but a few little ones that pave the way for the next generation. And then they'll make small changes and leave it to the next and the next! It's a bit like a carousel of progress. Always spinning towards a great, big, beautiful tomorrow. And tomorrow is just a dream away.

But what if tomorrow never comes?

Tomorrow always comes. Even if it comes without us.

What will I do without you to guide me? When I am lost, where will I turn?

You remind me of someone I knew long ago.

You’re the one who put it there -- the power in me.

The power to love one another is the greatest power of all.

No matter where life leads us, we’ll never be apart.

Through thick and thin, success or ruin, I’ll carry you in my heart.

I will treasure forever what the world will never see.

You are kind, and that’s enough.

I wish you didn’t have to go when our story’s just begun.

Then I wish you every happiness.

It was more money than I had ever seen. But I was able to count it.

And that's the end of the true story.

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[dontcare77ghj]

Subtle

Bruce x reader x Tony

Tony did not know the meaning of the word, subtle. Subtle was an abstract concept to the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. 

The man had never worried about a bill in his life and often dropped thousands of dollars on the most trivial things.

Just last week Tony had decided he was bored with the color of the benches in the kitchen the three of you shared, and had the whole kitchen redone. The bedspread had somehow gained a small tear in the corner and instead simply throwing that one out, Tony had bought a custom-sized bed with custom made blankets.

You and Bruce were taking extra caution to not mention anything needing to be fixed or anything broken just in case you came home to a completely different home.

Tony liked loud things and liked to make ill thought out choices.

The two of you loved Tony. Your impulsive man, no matter how many times he changed the kitchen because he’s an indecisive fuck. No matter how many nights he spent down in the lab, tinkering and building his suits. But sometimes you wished you could show him the pleasures in little things.

Subtle things.

“Tony, what is all that?” Bruce questioned Tony as he entered with arms laden with boxes and bags.

“This, Brucie-bear, is what’s going to throw my back out.” Tony groaned, placing all the bags and boxes onto the couch and table.

“Tony what did you do?” Bruce sighed as you entered the room.

“Jesus, I thought fan mail collection day was on Fridays.” You joked, looking at the mess Tony had made in the living room.

“Not fan mail.” Tony denied, picking up a box and tossing it at you. “Gifts from yours truly.” He said, tossing another box to Bruce.

“What’s this for, Tony?” You asked, taking a seat and undoing the ribbon. “Holy shit, Tony!” You gasped, looking at the necklace in your hands.

“I am taking the two of you out tonight,” Tony smirked, leaning back. “There’s a gala tonight and instead of suffering alone, I’m taking the two of you with me.”

“Tony, I love you, and normally I support your ideas wholeheartedly, but I really don’t want to go to another gala with you. This isn’t a good idea.” You told him. In mock offense, Tony pressed his hand to his chest and looked scandalized.

“I always have the best ideas, everyone says so. Right Brucie?” Tony questioned him.

“Not in this case Tony,” Bruce said, fingers running over the cuff links in his hands. “You know what happened the last time we went to a gala.” He sighed.

“He has been banned from any gala in this city, trust me,” Tony said, reaching over and grabbing the scientists' hand. “I promise both of you, tonight is not going to be like last time. I want to spoil the two of you tonight. I want to have every one of those stuffy asses to see that I have the two smartest, most gorgeous, people in the world on my arms. Please let me take you to this.”

“No, don’t give us the puppy dog face.” You groaned, collapsing back into the couch.

“It’s the puppy dog face.” He said. “Please I just gave you that amazing speech and the puppy dog face, you kinda have to say yes now.”

You and Bruce shared a long look. You gave a tiny nod and Bruce let out a sigh.

“Alright, fine,” Bruce said. “We’ll go.”

“You’re the best, you won’t regret this.” Tony smiled, quickly kissing the two of you.

“I’m regretting this.” You whispered through a large forced smile. “I’m really regretting this.”

“If it makes you feel better, you look absolutely stunning.” Tony complimented you, pressing his lips to your cheek.

"Sweet words, Tony, but I am still regretting this." You smiled, tapping his cheek. "And I think Bruce is too." You added, pointing at an uncomfortable-looking Bruce.

"Well, I think we should fix that," Tony smirked before leading you both over to your boyfriend. "Excuse me, gentlemen, we require Dr. Banner for the moment." He said as you grabbed Bruce's hand.

"Thank you for that." Bruce sighed as you all walked away. "I can tell they weren't especially interested in nuclear physics."

"I can't thank you enough for coming with me tonight," Tony said sincerely. "I know neither of you really wanted to be here."

"Not particularly." You smiled.

"But we love you, so we came for you," Bruce said. "Though you're going to make it up to us."

"Am I now?" Tony asked with a smirk.

"Yep. We already discussed how you can make this up to us." You smiled, wrapping your hands around Tony's arm.

"And do tell me how I can I make this up to you both."

"When we get home, you're ordering the largest pizza you can and we're having a movie night," Bruce said.

"And it's a casual event, so no jewelry, no ties, and no pants." You added.

"I like the way the two of you think," Tony admitted. "Alright pizza and no pants it is."

"Tony, you are on the couch tonight." You said as he led you and Bruce through the restaurant. 

"The common room couch to be clear," Bruce added as the three of you were seated.

"Understood." Tony nodded, pouring three glasses of wine. "But I don't think you'll follow through."

"If another waitress stares at the two of you like you're something to eat, I think I will follow through." You commented, sipping your wine.

"I'll remember that." Tony nodded. "I know neither of you like these sorts of places, but it's our anniversary. I wanted to do something special."

"This is definitely special, Tony," Bruce said, taking Tony's hand. "And we do love it."

"We're just introverts." You cut in with a smile.

"I am not an introvert." Bruce denied as Tony laughed. "I'm not."

"Babe, if there's an option to stay home, that's the option you take," Tony told him.

"That's because- that's not. I give up you can both sleep on the couch." Bruce said, opening his menu.

"Welcome to the couch club, sweetheart," Tony said to you as you gaped at the scientist.

"I'm not going to be on the couch." You shook your head and opened your own menu. 

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" Bruce asked as you perused your options.

"Because you love me too much." You smiled sweetly at the curly-haired scientist.

"Accurate point." Bruce shrugged, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

"Does this mean I can come off the couch tonight?" Tony asked.

"If you play your cards right, we'll see." You smiled as the waiter came over.

Though you and Bruce were not happy to be in such a high-class establishment, you could not deny, dinner was worth it. 

"I wonder if this place delivers." Bruce mused as the empty plates were taken away. "Because that was good filet mignon."

"I'm sure they'll deliver if we ask," Tony said, sipping his drink. "I hope you don't mind but I already ordered dessert," Tony said as a plate of macaroons was brought over.

"When did you do that?" You asked as the plate was placed on the table.

"When I reserved this table. The only reason I wanted to come was for these macaroons. Open them up and you'll see why." He smiled, pushing the two red ones to you.

You and Bruce shared a look before you shrugged and lifted the top off the macaroon in front of you.

"Holy shit." You gasped, throwing your hand over your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bruce's mouth drop.

It was only when Tony began to kneel that either of you snapped out of your shock.

"Tony Stark I swear to god, you better not be piss assing around." You told him, cheeks burning bright red as people began to notice Tony on the ground.

"Not piss assing around in the slightest." He promised. "Y/N, Bruce, we've been together for three years and I know the two of you would hate me if I did a long speech about how much I love you. So let me make this simple, will you both marry me?" Tony questioned you both.

"Yes." You smiled, leaning forward and throwing your arms around his neck.

"Of course," Bruce said, pulling Tony into an embrace once you let go.

"I think this gets me off the couch, doesn't it?" Tony smirked, retaking his seat as the other patron's applause died down. 

"I think you're off the couch, Stark." You smiled as he placed the rings on yours and Bruce's fingers.

"Definitely off the couch." Bruce agreed, taking Tony's hand and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

It had been a year since Tony publicly proposed to you and Bruce. And now it was finally time for the three of you to marry. Yes, technically it wasn't legal but with the prince of Asgard leading the ceremony it might as well be.

Tony had said it best when he proposed, he knew the two of you very well. As an early wedding gift from the man, Tony had put the two of you in charge of the wedding and reception.

It was the best gift Tony could ever give the two of you because it allowed the two of you to have a simple event. It allowed this wedding to not be filled with people for the sake of having people around you, but people who each loved and wanted a part of this.

It allowed for a simple, subtle, affair.

The only people in attendance were the Avengers and a handful of friends you each wanted to invite. The number of guests was less than fifty and the three of you liked it.

Tony had been shown every detail of yours and Bruce's plans and he had admitted several times that he liked the idea of a small event.

A subtle event.

"Did I mention that I love you? Both of you?" Tony asked as the three of you sat at your reception.

"Several times, husband." You smiled, leaning over to kiss one of your new husbands.

"Did I also mention that I loved our wedding?"

"Once or twice," Bruce said, grasping Tony's hand and kissing it with a light smile.

“Maybe I should have made the two of you plan more dates.” Tony mused. 

“Even if we wouldn’t have left the house 9 out of 10 times?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Darling, I don’t care if we never leave the house again. Means I get to keep the two of you to myself and none of us ever have to wear pants again.”

“You should have put that in your vows.” Bruce said, causing the three of you to laugh. 

The wedding was a small affair. There was no media coverage, there were no people you did not know in attendance and it was perfect. It was small and intimate and it was subtle.

And the three of you could not be happier with the day.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Steve x reader x Bucky x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

[buttonso]

Happy Birthday, Harvey

WELL.... it’s Winter 14, gotta do something to acknowledge it! My drawing game is garbage today, so, I thought I would post a chapter from the fic I’ve been working on since summer.  This is actually the fourth chapter, but one could read it as a standalone.  The fic itself is rated Mature on AO3, but this chapter is pure fluff and should be appropriate for teens- there are a few swear words.

14th of Winter Ascending

Standing before the floor-length mirror on the back of his bathroom door, Harvey stood up as straight as he could, puffing his chest out. Unable to sit still or relax the last several hours, he’d taken exceptional care with his clothing this evening, putting on his best suit and tie, polishing his glasses and combing his hair carefully. ~Well... do I look handsome? Manly?~ He drooped and sighed. ~Or am I just a dork in a cheap suit?~ He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for tonight.  It had all the hallmarks of a romantic date, but neither of them had stated their feelings explicitly.

He hadn’t helped himself any with his own indecision. All that concern about ethics… he was starting to wonder if that had just been his fear talking, an excuse not to put himself out on a limb, not to take a chance. Or was he now, in turn, just rationalizing away his ethics in order to try to get what he wanted?  

~And what do I want?~ he asked himself as he adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time. ~I’m not just trying to… to get in her pants.~ He blushed to even think that vulgar term. He’d be lying if he claimed to not be interested in that, but…

But, but, BUT… “I’m going to give myself a stroke if I keep thinking about this,” he said aloud, frowning at his reflection. Aura was his friend. He trusted her, and thinking about not having her in his life was just too difficult to contemplate. No matter what happened tonight, it was bound to, at least, be a pleasant evening with a dear friend. He glanced at his watch and nodded to himself.  He’d have to get going soon if he was going to make it to the farm by 6…

Just as he turned to pick up his building keys, the buzzer linked to the after-hours doorbell began to ring. He froze, listening to the harsh sound, not really registering it for a moment, then dropped his keys on the table in exasperation. Of course. OF COURSE there would be an emergency, right now. ~It had better be something damn serious,~ He thought irritably as he stomped down the stairs into the clinic, through the lobby to the front door, throwing it open with some force…

Only to find Aura standing on his doorstep, holding a large basket and looking a bit sheepish.

“Um… hey Harvey.” She looked a little disheveled, her hair escaping from what had probably once been an elegant twist at the back of her neck. Her red scarf was drooping off her shoulder and trailing in the slush on the street at her feet.  “I’ve… had some difficulties,” She said slowly, giving him a weak smile.

“Are you all right??” He exclaimed, pushing the door open wider so she could come in.

“Yeah… I’m fine except for… everything I had planned… being… completely… fucked…” She answered through gritted teeth, her forced cheerfulness fading with every word until she sounded near tears. “My piece of shit oven crapped out on me… sorry for swearing so much, I just… just…” Her shoulders started to shake and he quickly took the basket from her hands, setting it on the clinic’s front counter.

“Don’t worry about that, just… come on, let’s get you warm,” He said quickly, picking up her scarf as it finally fell off her shoulder.  “Where’s Buttercup?” Surely she hadn’t walked all the way from the farm...

“I-I walked…”

DAMN IT. He opened his mouth to scold her, but she continued to speak in a rapid, somewhat strained tone.

“…Buttercup threw a shoe earlier today… I took her to Marnie’s but she said the farrier couldn’t come until Tuesday… didn’t want to risk laming her.. that wasn’t even the first thing to go wrong today. First thing this morning Murphy brought in a… I don’t even know what it was, I swear it was the size of a raccoon… but he dropped it on me in bed and the fucking thing was still alive…  Then I dropped a preserve jar in the kitchen and the goddamn thing EXPLODED, I had cranberry jelly all over my kitchen AND ME, it was even in my hair…I swear, I’m going to start taking that bullshit fortuneteller on TV seriously, you know, she said it was a bad luck day when I got my ass kicked in the mines, too…”

“Why didn’t you just call and cancel?!” Harvey interrupted, aghast, as he pulled the door closed behind them. He tried to take her coat, but she waved him off.

“No way… I wasn’t going to leave you in the lurch on your birthday,” She said stubbornly. “So... I improvised.” She gestured impatiently at the basket on the counter while Harvey made a second attempt at taking her coat.  She evaded him, pacing the length of the counter and back.

“Aura, how do you think I’d feel if you… if you broke your ankle and fell into some snowbank and died of hypothermia or something?!” He asked crossly.

“I imagine you would resurrect me just so you could yell at me,” She sniffed and shrugged out of her coat, tossing it onto the counter.

She wore a simple long-sleeved red and black striped sweater-dress that hugged her body to just above her knees, with black leggings and little in the way of jewelry besides a silver chain that rested in the hollow of her throat.  On her feet she wore black boots, laced tightly to mid-calf. The outfit was so simple, but it looked amazing on her. He knew he was staring… and that he should stop… or at least say something…

“So…” Aura’s cheeks, already pink from the cold outside, flushed a bit brighter as she moved jerkily towards the basket on the counter. “I think… there’s something we should get out of the way, before this evening goes any further.”

“Oh…?” Harvey’s breath caught in his throat, and he had the curious sensation of standing on a precipice.

Aura’s hands trembled slightly as she opened the flaps at the top of the basket and reached inside, slowly drawing out… a bouquet? A sweet-smelling mass of purple, blue, silver and white. Purple and white crocus blooms were interwoven with bright blue crystal fruits and white snow yams, the whole thing secured with a wide dark-blue ribbon. She held it out towards him, her expression shy.

His heart skipped a beat.

Could it be…?

“I’ve been told that people around here declare… feelings… that is, romantic feelings… with a bouquet. I wasn’t sure at first… I mean, most places I’ve lived, people don’t really do flowers at all, let alone women giving them to men, but… I asked Marnie if it was true and she said it was.”

“You… talked to Marnie about this?” Harvey asked, his mouth going dry.

“Yeah. After I went home from the clinic,” She replied.  “Well… I knew if I bought a bouquet at Pierre’s, the whole town would know about it before… before the person I wanted to give it to. And it’s not like I didn’t have time to kill over the last week…”

“…I see…” The leaves shivered as his hands closed over hers. Her hands were trembling as much as his were.

“Harvey… I think it’s pretty obvious even without these flowers… how I feel about you. But, just in case it’s not, well… here they are.” Her silver eyes held his. “For awhile now I’ve felt like… like we’re holding ourselves back.  I don’t want to hold myself back anymore. But if you don’t want it, then... then we’ll say no more about it, ok?”

She tried to pull back, but Harvey’s hands reflexively tightened around hers.  He couldn’t speak, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go either.

“…Harvey?” She tilted her head slightly. “…Are you OK?” A thousand emotions and thoughts were clamoring in his mind, making it hard to focus.  This was everything he’d wanted for so long… he’d told himself, over and over, that it was wrong to wish, to hope, wrong to want her. The excuses varied from day to day, moment to moment. Either he wasn’t good enough for her because she deserved someone more handsome, or someone braver, or someone stronger… whatever way he felt inadequate that particular day. If it wasn’t that, then he told himself it would be ethically wrong, to hit on her while she was his patient… but it was all a way to keep a greater heartache at bay.

“Harvey, please… either reject me or…or don’t…” She whispered. Her silver eyes were shadowed with vulnerability.  He’d dreamed of her for so long… could he really hurt her now?

“Aura, I…” He cleared his throat. “…I’m not strong enough…”

“Oh, DAMN IT, Harvey…” She stomped her foot in frustration, but before she could say anything else, he pulled her to him, crushing the lovely bouquet between them. Purple petals scattered around them as he wrapped one arm around her, holding her against him, finally holding her like he’d wanted to for months, practically from the moment they met. They each still had one hand on the bouquet, now squished awkwardly between them, and Aura’s spare hand clutched at his shirt.

“I was going to say… I’m not strong enough… to pretend like this isn’t exactly what I wanted,” He said in a shaky voice. “I kept coming up with excuses as to why I couldn’t be with you… because I was so afraid…”

“Harvey…” She squeaked. “Ribs…”

“Oh…” another flurry of purple petals as he released her, his hands going to her side, anxiously probing her ribcage while she continued to awkwardly held the smashed bouquet at arm’s length.

“Harvey….Harvey.” Her free hand batted at his shoulder. “Trying to feel me up when you haven’t even kissed me yet?” A bit of her usual dry humor was back in her voice, though with a bit of a tremble to it. When he looked up, her silver gaze captured him again, and she smiled, brushing her fingers across his cheek, then trailing enticingly over his lips. “You have beautiful eyes, you know,” She told him softly. “Lovely hazel green…It’s one of the first things I noticed about you.”

Harvey wasn’t sure if he kissed her, or she him, but it seemed as if every nerve in his body came to life when her lips pressed to his, a deep thrill running up his spine and making him shiver all over. There was a soft rustle as she finally dropped the bouquet and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her chest into his. When they parted, they were both a little breathless, and he felt himself smiling so broadly it almost hurt.

“I guess… I’ll just have to take the bus to the city when I have the sniffles,” She said archly, resting her forehead against his. “Since you’re so hung up about having to be my doctor…”

“Aura….” There were so many things he wanted to say, that it was her eyes that had drawn him in at the beginning, that he’d dreamed of this moment for so long…

…That there were so many things he was still afraid of…

“Just… just don’t ever let yourself get hurt like that again… my heart can’t take it…” He finally answered, shaking his head and hugging her as tightly as he dared to. “Thinking I’d lost you… I’d never been so miserable…”

Aura let him hold her for another long moment, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’ll do my best… it’s not like I enjoyed having a brush with death,” she answered, voice muffled. Then she gave him another, lighter kiss, this time on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Harvey. I may not have been able to make the dinner I had planned, but I brought leftovers from yesterday and I just thought, well…. We could just be together for a little while?”

“I didn’t think this birthday could get any better…”  Harvey said as they stepped away from each other, hands tightly linked.  He looked down in regret at the pile of blue and purple petals scattered on the floor around them. “I’m so sorry about that though… it was so beautiful, it really was..”

“Maybe I’ll make you another next year…” She said as they both knelt to scoop up the fallen flora.  She fished out a crocus that had survived the tumble to the floor, still intact, turning it slowly in her fingers, then absently tucked it behind her ear. “Save these, though, the crystal fruit make for pretty decent wine. Waste not, want not.”

Harvey caught her hands again, turning them over to admire her long, strong fingers, tracing the callouses on her palms before tugging her to her feet. “Come on.. let’s just worry about the mess later. You’re probably starving.”

“But we can just…” She began, then shrugged. “OK, birthday boy… you’re the boss.”

In that moment, it seemed the light in her smile would keep him warm for the rest of the winter.

____

If you are interested in reading more, it can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158031/chapters/60962605

[blinkaftermidnight]

34 for the 35 Questions for fanfic writers :)

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Damn this is gonna be hard lol. I’m so indecisive. I was going to give you the last few lines of “time goes by and still i’m stuck on you” because I actually really love that ending, but below the cut is the beginning of a fic saved on my drive only as “messy leatin” that I have 28k words written for (and I’m still writing it, just not nearly at the pace I was before). But I’m really into this fic that I’ve been working on since I finished the first draft of my upcoming WIP, so here’s your chance to read some unposted work of mine lol.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Okay, I wish I knew what happened to my ability to write fics that were under 10k. I did it for FTWD, and now it’s like I can only fucking write long ass fics?? Why can’t I crank out a quick Leatin fic that’s like 5k in like 5 hours and call it quits?? Why am I writing monstrous fics without my own permission? Like I’ll start a fic, anticipate that it’ll be like 5-10k words and then suddenly I’m sitting on 30k and the fic still isn’t over. I wish I could control myself, honestly lol. The longer the fics I’m working on get, the more afraid I get that I’ll never finish them. (Case in point: the except for the fic right under the cut. That shit is getting long, and it’s not anywhere near an end, and I started it on a whim late one night a few weeks back and had no idea where it was going and just knew I wanted to make that shit hurt. And now it’s over 28k and I’m not done and my life is getting in the way and I’m really hoping I’ll finish that shit.)

Anyway almost 500 words for a fic that maybe will see the light of day sometime in the future is under this cut

It’s their fifth televised interview – no, sixth – since the story first broke. This Morning America, this time. They had to travel to San Diego from Los Angeles in order to make the appearance. Leah still hasn’t figured out a way to stop being nervous once she’s in front of a camera, and she still reaches for Fatin’s hand when they’re warned that they’re gonna be on in sixty seconds. The talk show host smiles too broadly at them, has too much makeup on. She looks fake even up close. Leah squeezes Fatin’s hand tighter to stop herself from scoffing or rolling her eyes or saying something she’s going to regret immediately. Fatin doesn’t squeeze back; she just taps her thumb against Leah’s hand, twice.

 The cameraman counts them down while, on the couch on the other side of Fatin, Toni and Martha exchange a few words about how they always have to answer the same fucking questions over and over. On the other side of Leah, Shelby’s leg bounces incessantly, and there isn’t enough room for them to sit without touching, but the way Shelby’s shoulder presses into Leah’s arm isn’t uncomfortable. What’s uncomfortable is the way Leah and Fatin have to act as a buffer between Shelby and Toni. Dot’s next to Shelby, and she’s just as fidgety, but that’s more likely due to her nicotine withdrawal now that she’s picked smoking back up again. She’s not – unfortunately, in Leah’s opinion – wearing cargo pants. She is wearing pants rather than a dress – just like Toni – but Dot’s pants have a normal number of pockets, which is just fucking tragic.

 Rachel sits next to Dot, her expression as unreadable as ever, her arms crossed in a way that carefully conceals the stump at the end of her right arm. They’ll be asked about it. At least, they were asked in their last five televised interviews, and the reporters always ask them, and no one knows how to mind their fucking business. Then on the other end of the couch, next to Martha, sits Nora. She speaks maybe ten words total in any given interview. Even when directly addressed. She’s part of the Unsinkable Eight, no denying it. But she isn’t like the rest of them. She knew, and her knowledge of their situation sets her apart.

 Leah glances at her hand, still clasped in Fatin’s as the cameraman says five, four, three, two. Fatin’s nails are perfectly manicured, flawlessly painted – what the fuck would Fatin call that color? Probably, like, seafoam green. Her nails match her dress, which is always guaranteed to be too short, so Fatin sits with her legs crossed, with the toe of her shoes with unnecessarily high heels pressing into Leah’s calf. Leah squeezes Fatin’s hand one last time right before the cameraman says one and gives the signal that they’re live, then Leah’s hand easily slips free, and she folds them together in her own lap.

[mhaccunoval]

i finallyyyy finished the explanations for my tlb playlistttt so come get yall juice

if you haven’t already seen my first (official) post about this silly little playlist then you are still in luck !!! here is the spotify and the youtube links !!! oh yeah also all of the songs are in chronological order (maybe not by month but definitely by year) because i had to be organized like that sbjhshsjbs

———

❥ title

i mean. there isn’t much to explain about it but sbjshbsjhs it’s based on sam’s line “you’re a creature of the night, michael!” of course but i made it plural because this playlist is sort of a. general boys / movie playlist, if that makes sense??? but yeahhhh they’re all littol creechers who love the night >:o]

———

❥ paint it, black — the rolling stones

so !!! i was kind of trying to relate it to the boys vampirism and. love of black clothes sbhsjbshjs but no. similar to the title, they. literally live in darkness because of not being able to go into the sun and because of the few lights in the lair but there’s also a sort of duality where being vampires in an internal darkness??? like. each of the boys takes heavy advantage of the benefits of being undead but i can’t imagine it’s without its faults outside of the lack of sunlight and such. i’m sure there’s a kind of uh. monster complex that follows it, especially with the way outsiders view them, which certainly fits with the song’s vibe of being washed with this sort of sensory overload to color and earning weird looks for it

———

❥ riders on the storm — the doors

first of all, there’s a giant ass jim morrison poster in the lair therefore the boys definitely listen to the doors (if not idolize jim) so jot that down. but also !!! it has very Them vibes !!! i think the storm effects definitely relate to boys in how storms create a darkness that is soothing in its own way, and comes on strong, just like the boys’ presence. and. technically they Are killers on the road that Will kill a sweet family sbhjsbshjsb but no most of all the !!! “into this house we’re born // into this world we’re thrown” and !!! the found family that the boys have going. like, if you look at. vampirism as the house they have LITERALLY been born into it and been thrown into a whole new world, depending on each other for comfort and pleasure !!! oh also. they ride motorcycles so they’re also literal riders sbhjsbshjs (fun fact, according to genius lyrics: apparently it was the last song jim recorded before he died a few weeks later 😳)

———

❥ love her madly — the doors

whole jim morrison poster and listening to the doors reasoning is sustained. HOWEVER for the rest of reasoning… perhaps it’s more straight up 95060 than anything but sbhsjbsshj the whole woman walking in and out of the audience’s life is very symbolic of michael being in and out with the boys, never really deciding whether he wants to fully join them and straining. all of his relationships with that indecision and sitting on the picket fence (those who sit on the picket fence are impaled by it). although, it could also be partly symbolic of that indecision, as he does find Some charm in the boys’ lifestyle and keeps finding himself drawn back enough to even consider partaking in it. also, if you wanna go the parko route, paul loves marko madly enough to go after the frog bros personally for killing him <3

———

❥ walk this way — aerosmith

i am. blanking on how to tie it in other than being on the movie’s soundtrack (yes i avoided it and people are strange until the very end of making the playlist, but one of the evils got me clearly— have always ADORED people are strange though). but. i guess you can make the case that the song is full of innuendos and some scenes, like the feeding scene, are lowkey horny sbsjhbshjsbs and YES it’s the aerosmith version instead of the run dmc one because. i prefer this one and it’s my silly little playlist <3

———

❥ the boys are back in town — thin lizzy

technically the boys never Left town but !!! *christopher walken voice* Boys !!! them cast ARE crazy and they’re ALWAYS dressed to kill, ready to spill some blood and pick a fight !!! yeah no it’s just a very fun song that i think really works to. represent their crazy lifestyle and infamy around town due to causing trouble !!! and you can almost say that in this scenario star is the girl who used to dance a lot and slapped the shit out of someone <3 just girlboss moments <3

———

❥ xanadu — rush

hehehe… this started as the. desire to add more rush to the playlist for my own amusement but the more times i listen to it, the more i’m like “!!! it actually fits”… like. xanadu here is meant to a sort of utopia that’s long searched for, partly BECAUSE of the promise of immortality which !!! the boys have (unless. harmed in one of the ways at the end of the movie) because of their vampirism. like even if we don’t know the exact reasons they got turned, they all still, mostly indirectly probably, sought out that same principle. And the dining on honeydew and drinking the milk of ‘paradise’ is similar to their thrill-seeking tendencies and general enjoyment of being unable to die, leaving them to enjoy their undead lives to the fullest. not to mention, in [b part 2] (as genius refers to it) there’s talk of many, many years passing and waiting for the world to end, which we know there’s been quite a few years in between the boys getting turned and the movie, as well as i’m sure they sit back and wait on Some apocalypse, if not just to watch the world burn. in writing this, i’ve ALSO realized how it can be considered very Michael; he didn’t exactly seek this life out but he found it and indulged, only to be that “mad immortal man” towards the end of the song

———

❥ runnin’ with the devil — van halen

i just van halen is neat sbjshbsjsh and would definitely be something the boys would actually listen to hsjbshjsb i don’t Necessarily think vampires are in any way tied to the devil but. here it’d be more like a metaphor of “taking a walk on the wild side” if you wanna call it that; also, they all truly live their lives like there’s no tomorrow (not that they have to worry about death until the very end), have stolen a lot of things just to get by (probably in life AND death), don’t bode well with the ‘simple’ life (likely including the idea of a nuclear family like max proposed) because of it’s lack of pleasures, and don’t exactly have any “love [that] you’d call real” unless you read into the subtext 

———

❥ hot blooded — foreigner

originally this was going to be another joke about the. lowkey horniness of the boys and the movie as a whole but i’ve realized in writing these explanations thus far and rereading the lyrics that it’s. it’s just michael-centric sbshjsbsh sam is “at the mercy of his sex glands” and so is the audience of both the movie and the song sbhsjbshsj like. michael finds himself attracted to star immediately and tries for two secret rendezvouses, with only one working, and. can be said that he also finds a fever running within him when he’s around david and the boys sbhjsbshjs i just 🙈

———

❥ renegade — styx

renegade is my favorite styx song so i just said “fuck it” and added it sbshjsbshj but !!! you can say that, again, the boys live their lives on the wild side and. probably commit enough crimes to warrant dozens of sentences, some that would lead to death row (like, ya know, the. manslaughter) but they manage to get away unscathed. And the law man serving as an allegory to all of the people, including the frogs and grandpa, that want them dead for being vampires, with the bounty to be rewarded being the ridding of their trouble from santa carla

———

❥ big shot — billy joel

mikey :o) … ok yeah he isn’t the. silver spoon in hand (nose) type but he’s LITERALLY the type to open his mouth and get himself deep in enough shit that a fight breaks out, potentially bloodied his eyes, nose, and/or fists. i don’t have much of an explanation outside of he is a himbo jock who pulled a “i didn’t know how to talk to my crush so i wrote a note telling them to get out of my school” except he said it with his fist instead of his mouth sbjshbshsj

———

❥ boys don’t cry — the cure

pretty sure this is one of the ones i stole off of shovel (@/iswearimavamp) sbshjbshjs but i do love this song in a general sense too. in regards to the movie, like. none of the guys. obsess over masculinity or anything— and both david AND michael cry at different points— so that’s not necessarily an issue. but, there *is* still a lot of hurt and stepping on toes in many of the relationships in the film that can be stretched to fit, i would think sbjhsbshjs

———

❥ highway to hell — ac/dc

this and back in black were some of the last two i put on here because i. wanted to make an ‘even’ 35 sbsjhsbshjs BUT, like with runnin’ with the devil, it’s about a devilish lack of care for one’s own life or the “status of their soul” and just doing what feels right or like the most fun, no matter if it lands them in hell or not. and !!! “my friends are gonna be there too” fits with the friendship within the boys’ found family and how they’ll all always be together, no matter what !!!

———

❥ back in black — ac/dc 

i can’t really think of an explanation that differs from highway to hell so just reread the above sbsjhsbsh

———

❥ witch hunt — rush

OK !!! this is the song i’m the MOST excited to explain !!! right off the bat, moving pictures as a whole is an IMMACULATE album, absolutely love it. right so !!! this song literally SOUNDS like it belongs on the movie soundtrack; it has the same overtones and sounds as cry little sister and it’s just !!! and with the title, a witch hunt is BASICALLY what sam + the frogs went on in search of the lose boys, relying on little else but hearsay and catching glimpses at what was happening to michael, “confident that their ways are best” and moving along like a mob of three to get to the bottom of it. “features distorted in the flickering light // faces are twisted and grotesque” is very reminiscent of the faces the lost boys pull when they’re about to attack, and “they say there are strangers who threaten us” is symbolic of them being outsiders/outcasts that make everyone uncomfortable, even if You aren’t going to be their next victim. “the righteous rise with burning eyes” AND “quick to judge, quick to anger // slow to understand // ignorance and prejudice // and fear walk hand in hand” can apply to any number of characters, particularly the mains who are all pitted against each other, the humans fighting for their lives and the vampires fighting for their Right to live, neither taking into consideration the other’s perspective. i just… ADORE this song…

———

❥ red barchetta — rush 

this one was mainly just because of the car that grandpa keeps in the barn and both sam and michael’s fascination with it sbhjsbsshj and just to get more rush on here shjsbshjsbsh

———

❥ maneater — hall & oates

one of the first songs to hit the playlist !!! because the boys eat people !!! they’re the lean and hungry type that only come out at night !!! they’ll be sitting with you but their eyes are on the door and if you want love from them, you won’t get very far !!! the beauty IS there but there are beasts inside that can rip your world apart !!! they’ll chew you up but also leave you begging for more :o)

———

❥ hungry like the wolf — duran duran

the second song to have gone on the playlist !!! the boys are always on the prowl for fresh meat (in both the food AND turning senses) and they come alive while on the hunt, blood no doubt rushing through their veins (assuming it still can) !!! and in the movie, michael is the one they’re after for the turning connotation, all wanting a taste of him for themselves !!!

———

❥ subdivisions — rush

this rush song actually went on before the others shbsjsbshj but !!! it still fits just as well (certainly better than red barchetta)… the movie all takes place on the fringes of the city, “in between the bright lights // and the far unlit unknown”, and while it’s not exactly in the suburbs, there’s still little comfort to soothe the restless dreams of youth. there IS a drawing like moths into the city, for both the emersons and the lost boys, which is what ends up bringing all of them together, although it starts are cruising for action just to feel the living night. and just !!! NOBODY fits in !!! if you take the movie title as them being Lost instead of an allusion to peter pan, then you get slapped with thinking about what actually makes them lost and how they don’t conform in any way, shape, or form to just about. anything. and !!! the emersons are new, which immediately puts them at a social disadvantage, but they Also don’t seem too terribly great at making new friends in general so !!! “nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone”!!! 

———

❥ abracadabra — steve miller band 

i just love this song for whatever reason. and i think the allusion to magic to very fitting for the hallucinations that david gives michael, putting a sort of magic spell on him if you want to look at it that way. not a lot of silk and satin going gone but plenty of leather and probably some lace in there somewhere ( ;o] ) … also michael DOES heat up like a burnin’ flame whenever his name is called and the situation with the boys just keeps going round and round with no exact end in sight, only the calling of desire 

———

❥ separate ways (worlds apart) — journey

you would think i would have more journey on here ??? because i love them ??? but instead i stole this off of shovel too ??? it’s fine. time to be back on the 95060 bullshit sbsjhbsjhs we all know david Really wants michael to join them but. michael is reluctant, so that hesitance sets them worlds apart from each other— as if they weren’t already— and there’s still love between them, or at least the bgeinning sparks of it, even if michael refuses to act on them and only keeps pushing david away 

———

❥ cum on feel the noize — quiet riot

just some boys loving to party <3 some boys with evil yet dirty minds, out of time singing, funny faces, and that have a lazy time <3 yeah no this is one they’d rock out to and someone would probably pull a muscle over because it’s just such a banger sbshjsbsjh

———

❥ rebel yell — billy idol 

Another stolen off of shovel sbjhsbsjhs also ever since it’s been pointed out to me that david looks like billy idol i’ve just been losing it a little sbhjsbshjs Anyway. they’d definitely idolize him to some degree, even if just for looks, and it certainly fits the way that they. most Definitely let out a rebel yell at the midnight hour if you know what i mean— *taken out by a sniper*

———

❥ every breath you take — the police

would to believe to know i took it from shovel (i swear the last three where i say that will be rock you like a hurricane, livin’ on a prayer, and cherry pie sbshjsbsh) BUT !!! the watching every move is yet another. david keeping watch over michael and uh yearning from afar moment, heart aching the longer he’s away and the longer he keeps up this game of not knowing what exactly he wants to do 

———

❥ handsome devil — the smiths

ok THIS one was lent to me by ej (@/maybe-strawberry-blue) sbshjbshjsbs and let me tell you. this song (especially when paired with this charming man) is Very homoerotic, aka perfect for this movie shbjsbshjsbs like what got me first was “let me get my hands // on your mammary glands” and just. thinking about trans parko sbhsjbshjs but also in general the. “and i would like to give you // what i think you’re asking for” and “a boy in the bush // is worth two in the hand” and just sbhjsbshjs Everything. fits the ambiguous homoeroticism. And i think the boys would listen to the smiths (will elaborate more in the other smiths song explanation)

———

❥ panama — van halen

i Told you all i think van halen is neat sbsjsshjb what can i say. the boys like fast moving vehicles, hard partying, and tender loving sbsjhsbhsj also forgot to mention that i think they’d all be :eyes: about pre-1985 david lee roth and i cannot blame

———

❥ rock you like hurricane — scorpions

third to last shovel snatch sbshjsbh Here you can replace any one of the boys with the animals mentioned, as they’re always hungry and need to feed… they come out scratching and ready to win, willing to rock anyone who gets in their way like a hurricane— including with lust, depending on the situation 

———

❥ livin’ on a prayer — bon jovi

i actually can’t even manage an explanation for this one either just because of the song’s plot and how greatly it differs the movie plot <3 however it will stay because shovel said one of the boys (i forget which) would listen to it and friendship is more powerful than my small brain <3

———

❥ the queen is dead — the smiths

rightttt so here’s the deal, buds and duds. something in my gut just tells me that david would pull a me and. listen to this entire album on repeat, particularly bigmouth strikes again and i know it’s over when in dramatics bshjsbsjh BUT to make a case for the title track itself, breaking into buckingham palce— or really any major building— with only a sponge and rusty wrench would ABSOLUTELY be an endeavor the boys would get up to And they’d all pale (worse than normal) about finding out they’re the descendant of some royal. “oh, has the world changed, or have i changed” and “life is very long, when you’re lonely” is quite fitting of their immortality, which i can only imagine would leave them questioning how the world has evolved and, although they have each other, i’m sure living forever still can get a Little lonely. And they’d certainly celebrate the death of a royal (because anarchy <3). mostly i’ve just been listening to this song on repeat for days sbhjsbshj but, i think it’s the most. generally related to all of the boys, whereas like. cemetry gates would be more solely 95060 

———

❥ need you tonight — inxs

my favorite inxs song… technically the 21st century Wasn’t yesterday when the movie came out nor when the song did sbhjsbshjs but there *is* a lot of sweating from desire and aiming to put that passion into use, very blatantly letting everyone know that sbjhsbshjs

———

❥ bad medicine — bon jovi

there’s just something so fun about this song… and while listening to it on the drive home, i was thinking about it from a 95060 perspective where. david’s a bit lovesick (hence the love like bad medicine) and the choir of voices in the bg, saying “that’s what you get for falling in love”, would be the other boys knowing he’s gotten himself in over his head over what was supposed to be a minor tease or a small fling (would be a real fun and poppy animatic i think)

———

❥ pour some sugar on me — def leppard

legitimately this started as a “haha what about my ‘what if the blood was kool-aid instead’ joke” and then i realized it was. a fair enough fit, especially with the feeding scene. except they’re actual vamps not just video vamps sbjhsbshjs anyway. sugar highs and red hot flames of passion for one another <3

———

❥ cherry pie — warrant

ok THIS is the last song i took from shovel and. my reasoning is pretty much the same as pour some sugar on me and. Friendship

———

❥ somebody told me — the killers

i wasn’t going to add any modern songs but. i thought it’d be funny if michael had had a girlfriend before leaving phoenix that looked a bit like david sbshjsbshj and then it only just added to angst sbhjsbshj

———

❥ you know what they do to guys like us in prison — mcr

i was reminded that vampires will never hurt you exists but. i went with my favorite mcr song instead because. vwnhy is more like ??? a vampire that fears themselves ??? so like. an edward cullen type ??? while ykwtdtgluip is more about the homoeroticism and community ??? i said what i said

———

❥ house of wolves — mcr

thank god this is the last song because i’m getting tired sbjshsjshb a little less homoeroticism, a little more general sinning and egotism <3

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #456

“i don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger, & that feels so rough”

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? I know at LEAST over an hour. I was in agony. What type of TV shows are your favourite? Animal docs. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Bitch I still am lmao. Do you know anyone who has died in battle? No. When was the last time you went on an adventure? Bro, I could NOT tell you. I haven't had one of those in what feels like eons. What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I actually don't know. I don't pay attention. Are you good at rapping? Never tried, but I'm sure I'd be awful. I stutter too much. Name one world issue that upsets you. Just ONE????????? Well, I can name homelessness as very high on the list. How do you feel about tanning? I hate it. I can't stand the heat, so why would I deliberately go bake in it? Have you ever given a public speech? Yeah, in front of the whole 4th and 5th grade when I was innnn... one of those grades, idr which. It was for my D.A.R.E. essay. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? NOOOOOOOOOOO I'm way too awkward. Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Bro who tf kisses with their eyes open, that shit is creepy. Do you believe you can change someone? No. One can only change themselves. How did you react when your first pet died? I have no memory of our first pet. Have you ever drawn anime? No. Can you use a pogo stick? When I was a kid, I became a MASTER. I got one for I want to say Christmas and I was obsessed. When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? Idk, first he needs to get on Facebook and see I messaged him alsdkfjalkdj. He like never gets on there. Do you like bathing/showering? No. One, it's a chore, and two, it's actually painful for me, standing up so long and propping my legs up and stuff like that to clean myself properly. Have you ever considered entering a race? HEEEEEEEEEEELL no. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Probably Gaga, idk. Who was your first good kiss with? Jason. What accessory do you want in your bedroom? I actually kinda want a TV now? What do you take the most pictures of? Flowers. What are you always in the mood for? Lately, Krispy Kreme donuts, lol. I haven't had one in a very long time, but goddamn does a hot glazed donut sound BANGIN' right now and has for days. What is something that you never turn down? Hm... how am I blanking??? What is something that you always turn down when offered? Certain foods or drinks, like tea. Name something sexy about your significant other. I don't have one'a those. What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Um, idk. As interests work, I may move away from any hobby eventually. If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Dance. If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? Violin. Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? A mortician. That job doesn't even seem all that bad to me? I think it'd be kinda chill somehow???? I could NEVER be a surgeon. I'd be terrified of fucking something up. Have you ever been on a subway? No. Are you in love? No. Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? *eyes emoji* Do you want to get married when you’re older? Yes. What was the last band shirt you wore? PROBABLY my Metallica shirt? But I'm unsure, ultimately. You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? Ugh, I've been wanting a nice chocolate milkshake for a while. Have you ever given someone flowers? For Mother's Day one year, I collected some wildflowers to put in a jar for Mom. I've also given Jason roses before. I really wanted to give Sara some when I surprised her for her birthday, but I didn't want to ask her parents to drive me somewhere where I could buy her some, ha ha. What day of the week is usually your busiest day? None. My days are all the same. Do you have any concerts coming up? No, but UGH, I was so hyped a few days ago because I saw Motionless In White was going on tour next year, but of course they're going to the big city on the OTHER end of the state versus the capital, which I'm way closer to. -_- Bands ALWAYS choose Charlotte on the super rare occasion they come to NC... Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Ugh, I hate it. What’s your favorite brand of chips? Doritos, maybe? Between Mountain Dew and those... I am such a fucking gamer stereotype lmfao. Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? I think I had to before in school? Idr. Do you like pineapple? Love it. Does your house have a dishwasher? Yes. A dishwasher is one thing I MUST have in my own future house. I cannot stand touching dirty dishes. Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? Oh, absolutely. Sunflower tattoos are especially popular around here. How many different languages can you say goodbye in? English, German, and uhhh Spanish? Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. I don't mind them. I've never understood the hate, honestly? I think he's capable of being funny. Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Only by myself when I was a kid losing my baby teeth. Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? Nooooo. If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? Fuck no, I hate it. What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don't like those. Do you get cold easily? No, but I get hot extremely easily. Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? I don't think so, no. Do you admire nature? I positively adore nature. If only we treated it better... Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Done sexual things in places I probably shouldn't have, oops. Name two of your favorite things as a child. Pokemon and Webkinz. Do you own a Pillow Pet? No. They're cute, though. My niece has one. Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Absolutely not. Have either of your parents gone to jail? No. Do you know a hoarder? Yes. Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I just leave 'em be, honestly. Do you have any interesting scar stories? Not really. Do you hate the texture of meatballs? No, I love me some meatballs. Do you get migraines? Very, very rarely. They fucking suck. Do you like guns? NOOOOOOO guns terrify me alsd;kjfal;sdjfk Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') How much time do you spend taking surveys? A whole lot. It's just that I'm like... always bored and the randomness of surveys can add interesting little flares to the day, I guess. Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, for sure. Would you like to work at a candy shop? No. I don't want to work directly with people. Do you have feelings for someone? It's funny; now that I've settled the extreme indecision, I've come to realize that they're very strong feelings. How you go from being indecisive to really, really liking somebody, hell if I know. Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? Uhhh Girt is like my only real guy friend, so I guess it's by default him, ha ha. I'm not particularly attracted to him, but he's not ugly by any means. Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? I'm so sorry. Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? Either Ozzy or Metallica. Most likely Ozzy, though. Which song describes your mood at the moment? Hm. I dunno. Which movie(s) do you quote the most? None, really. Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? None; we don't share irl friends, being many states apart, and not even that many online ones. Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? I don't have my own car. Which one of your friends will be the most successful? I'm not psychic. What store did you last shop at? Mom and I picked up a Wal-Mart order the other day. Do you think telepathy is real? Absolutely not. When did you last draw something for fun? A few days ago, I started a drawing of Maieykio for Sara. Who makes the most in your entire family? I have no idea. Do you like writing essays? I don't mind, if the topic interests me. Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? Nah. Well, I think you can take it to an visual extreme, but that's just my opinion. Do what makes you comfortable in your own body. Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It's picked up. When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? The inside of my elbow. Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? It usually happened at night. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? Haven't taken it yet. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? OH MY GOD NEITHER Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one, really? Well, unless you count my change of feelings for Girt, but it's just that: a type of change. I've loved him platonically since high school, and it's like, I feel the same for him, just in a romantic way now? Does your car have a sunroof? No. Are you closer to your mom or your dad? My mom. Have you ever had a friend with benefits? Nope, not how I roll. Who’s the last person you cuddled with? Sara. Unless you count my cat. Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Former teachers, yes. I feel kinda bad for 'em now... They're all the sweetest, God-fearing people, and then there's my outspoken (online) and liberal ass sharing shit that's gotta disappoint them now lmaoooo.

[clumsyclifford]

mayhaps,,,backseat serenade for a prompt?? (don’t ask me to pick a specific part bc i am Indecisive) also for any pairing but i am partial to malum

OKAY hear me out. i know you said malum and i will happily write this with malum if you want but this song is a muke song to me. and since ive never written muke (!! it is a night for debuts eh) i figured. may as well give it a go. in this low stakes tumblr prompt fic environment. SO here we have it. the closest ill probably ever get to writing smut without writing smut <3

-

Luke’s on his third drink when he sees Michael across the room, and Michael catches his eye. Luke lifts a hand, gesturing for him to come over, which is a bad idea, because he’s drunk, and Michael’s definitely drunk — he’s been drinking whiskey all night; weird choice but there’s no explaining Michael — and Luke and Michael are notoriously lacking in self-control when drunk, but now Michael’s already coming over and it’s too late to take it back.

“Hey hey hey,” Michael slurs as he leans against the bar, crowding already into Luke’s space. His breath smells of whiskey, and Luke wishes that were enough to turn him off it, but it’s very much not. 

“Hey back,” Luke says. “Having fun?”

Michael barks a laugh. “Fuck no. Are you?”

Of course Luke’s not having fun — it’s why he’s sitting at the bar. “No,” he says, trying and failing to refrain from saying what he wants to say next. “But I could be, now.”

Michael smiles. “Worst chat-up line I’ve ever heard in my life,” he says, coming around Luke and using his shoulders to spin him around on the barstool. “Try again.”

“Who said anything about chat-up lines?” Luke blinks up at Michael, wide-eyed and innocent. It’s gotten him before and it’ll work again. Luke wishes he didn’t know that so well, but Michael licks his lips and they’re here again like they’ve been too many times before. 

“Got me there,” Michael breathes, leaning in. Luke leans away instinctively and his back presses into the bar.

“Maybe I just needed a friend,” he says weakly.

“I bet you did,” Michael says, watching him carefully.

It’s no use. They’re caught in the web already. Struggling against it will be in vain, so all that’s left to do is sink deeper and hope that it’ll dissolve by morning.

Luke pushes himself off the seat so swiftly that Michael stumbles backwards. Good, Luke thinks with relish, because Michael loves to push him around and sometimes it’s Luke’s turn. “Your place or mine?”

Michael chews on his lower lip. Luke suddenly finds it hard to breathe. “Yours.”

Luke orders an Uber and they leave the bar to wait for it. The summery nighttime air is warm with just a hint of a breeze, and Michael hangs off him the whole time they wait, pressing butterfly kisses to his jaw with deceptive gentleness.

(Michael’s never gentle with him. It’s why Luke keeps coming back — or at least one of the reasons. Maybe he needs to be reminded that he can take it. If Michael can’t break him, nobody can. And Michael’s awfully good at pushing his limits.)

Luke feels badly for the Uber driver; Michael kisses Luke the moment they slide into the backseat of the car. The radio is on, something loud and angry playing through the speakers. Distantly Luke thinks he’ll definitely leave a generous tip, although presently all he can think about is Michael’s mouth on his, and wishing Michael’s mouth were doing other things, although those things should definitely wait until they’re no longer in the backseat of a car.

“Michael,” he manages, trying for scolding though he’s sure it comes out desperate. Michael pulls back, at least for a moment, hooded eyes gazing into Luke’s own. “Slow down.”

“Slow down?” Michael repeats, sounding deeply unimpressed. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“We’re in an Uber,” Luke hisses. “We’ll be back at mine in five minutes.”

“Mm,” Michael says. “That’s five too many, if you ask me.”

He presses back into Luke, pushes him into a messy kiss, and Luke tries, really tries to stop the way he melts into it, but it’s fucking impossible. Kissing Michael is his main source of relief, the antidote to all of his pain, and every time they kiss Luke hurts a little less all over. The world is bitter and frequently out to get him, but Michael is a welcome reprieve, someone hungry and immediate to deal with, enough to take Luke’s mind off all the shit he’s trying to ignore about his life and focus just on this.

Five minutes does turn out to feel like an eternity, and Luke doesn’t even wish the driver a goodnight because he’s almost too embarrassed to even acknowledge the ride happened. That concern quickly flies from his mind when Michael essentially manhandles him to the door, and Luke fumbles with the lock just enough to remember that he is, in fact, rather drunk, and so is Michael.

(But what is life for if not making stupid decisions about sleeping with your bandmates slash best friends when you’re wasted?)

Michael all but pushes Luke through the door once it’s open, at which point Luke decides he’s had enough of that, and spins on his heel to pin Michael to the back of the door. Breathing hard, trying not to become completely incoherent from Michael’s disheveled state, he says, “Be fucking patient.”

Michael juts his chin out, so casually defiant that Luke’s heart stutters in his chest. 

(Which is wrong. This isn’t supposed to be a matter of the heart — Luke’s heart should have checked out by now, but it’s still here, watching and waiting for Michael, hungry in a different way. This should be a physical affair, the way it’s been every time before, but Luke can’t help the leaps and bounds in his ribcage, only do his level best to ignore them.)

“Make me,” Michael says, around a delicious smirk.

They’re in Luke’s house, though, and the time for patience is past, and anyway, Luke is probably stronger than Michael but he’d much rather be on the other side of this hold, and they both know it.

The song from the radio still on repeat in Luke’s head, he leans in, and Michael meets him halfway, a battle they fight over and over with no clear victor.

-

Luke wakes up in bed, Michael snoring lightly across his bare chest, sunlight streaming in through the windows, a furious headache behind his eyes. This, at least, is familiar. The unfamiliar piece is the dull thud of Luke’s heartbeat picking up speed as he registers Michael in bed with him.

It’s not as if they haven’t woken up like this before. It’s not like they’ve never shared a fucking bed, notwithstanding whether or not they’d just fucked. Luke feels vulnerable, laid bare; even though it’s impossible for Michael to know what he’s thinking, Luke is nervous that Michael will know.

As if summoned by Luke’s thoughts (an idea that doesn’t put Luke’s nerves at ease), Michael’s eyes flutter open, and he yawns.

“Hi,” he says, looking up through tired eyes at Luke. 

(Luke has learned to reconcile the Michael from last night with the Michael from this morning. They’re not the same person, but then again, neither is Luke.)

“Hi,” Luke says. He closes his eyes. The light is doing absolutely nothing for his hangover. “We should try and remember to close the blinds.”

“Fucking amen,” Michael grumbles. “I’m blaming you. It’s your house.”

Luke would have remembered if he hadn’t been so distracted by a certain someone, but he’s pretty sure they have an agreement not to really talk about it, so he doesn’t say that. Instead, he says, “I’ll make breakfast if you ask really nicely.”

“Make breakfast or I’ll TP your house,” Michael says, burying his face in Luke’s side. “I know where you live.”

Luke smiles and huffs a laugh. “Try again.”

“Don’t make breakfast,” Michael says. He tilts his head and looks at Luke. “Don’t get up yet. Come on. Go back to sleep. We don’t need to get up.”

Luke stares. This is uncharted territory. Michael’s not supposed to ask him to stay. Michael’s not supposed to ask to stay.

“I have to, um,” Luke starts, still staring at Michael as Michael stares back. There’s a challenge in his expression but also something pleading about it, something vulnerable and on the whole very unlike any version of Michael that Luke knows.

“Close the blinds?” Michael finishes for him, offering him a soft smile.

Luke catches his breath. “Yeah. And then we can go back to sleep.”

Michael flops onto his back, releasing his hold on Luke. Luke feels cold, and quickly slides out of bed and crosses to the windows. Shutting the blinds throws the room into a much dimmer light, and he takes a second to adjust his eyes before ambling back over to his bed and crawling under the sheet.

Michael immediately tucks himself against Luke’s side, fitting so comfortably that Luke can’t believe he’s been sleeping all this time alone. It makes sense, and it feels right, and Luke’s chest feels full to bursting with the fact that Michael hasn’t left. Michael is still here, breaking every rule they’ve written for themselves.

So Luke ducks his head and presses a kiss to Michael’s hair. (Because what’s one more?)

“Mm,” Michael hums contentedly, looking up at Luke. “I’d kiss you if I cared enough to reach you, honest.”

“Could just ask,” Luke says lightly. “I’m very accommodating.”

“Oh, I know.” Michael grins. The rulebook is in tatters; Luke thinks, fuck it, and shuffles down in bed to kiss Michael. Somehow this one, more than all of the other ones they’ve ever had, makes Luke’s stomach churn. Michael tastes of stale whiskey and salt and morning breath, a mixture that should be atrocious but for some reason isn’t.

Michael smiles again when he pulls away, sleepy through half-lidded eyes. “I’m sleeping ‘til this hangover goes away on its own. Hope you didn’t have plans.”

Luke can’t find it in him to come up with any kind of witty retort. “Okay,” he says softly. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” Michael answers with a yawn, and within moments he’s back to sleep. 

Luke falls asleep soon after. It’s much easier to fall asleep, he finds, with someone else curled up in bed with him, especially when that someone is Michael. Luke thinks about potential energy and drifts off with a smile.  

[yikeswtfmate]

I’ll hold you to that

Summary: There’s a new message from a stranger in her DMs, but what does he want from her and why exactly is he so freaking cute?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Warnings: swearing; that should be it, I think?

A/N: This is the second fic in two days, who even am I? What am I even doing? What is happening?! My only excuse is that I’ve started this like 2 months ago and only now got round to finishing it so...enjoy?

This might need a second part though, I feel like I need some college dorkiness in my life rn

Also, do some text and ig messages count as making this a social media au? Probably not, since I was too lazy to do that format with the apps and all that?

masterlist // Watermelon Sugar - another part

Natasha is lying on her friend’s bed, furiously typing away at her phone. The chime of incoming messages is constant and it is starting to drive Y/N up the wall.

“You could do this in your room as well, you know.” Turning in her desk chair, ready to start going off on the redhead, Y/N is cut short by a long suffering sigh. “What’s wrong now?” She knows that if she ignores Nat now, she would only get more annoying, which in turn would leave her no chance of finishing studying for the night.

“I’m talking with the people in my group, trying to prepare for the mock trial next month and there’s this guy who is completely infuriating!” Nat spats and lets out another groan, as her fingers fly across the screen. “He says that we should stop defending the CFO and try and get a settlement because it’s obvious he actually did indeed commit fraud. How are we supposed to make a case and win when he’s completely disregarding everything we’ve studied this semester? Of course the prick committed fraud, but we still have to make the case for him, this is the fucking assignment, you pompous asshole.”

“Yeah, babe, I have no idea what you’re saying there, but go you! Down with Wall Street or whatever, but I still need to study for this management exam, so it would be great if you could kindly fuck off to your room?” Y/N smiles at Nat, who finally looks up at her and sighs.

“Fine. I’ll let you study for your stupid exam, but you still need to reply to that cute guy like you promised.”

“Remind me again, why am I supposed to do that?”

“Because you promised, you ass! And your sex life is shit so Wands and I reckon if you get laid, you’ll stop being so stuck up about school.” It’s Nat’s turn to smile sweetly at Y/N, who throws a pen at her retreating form.

“Why are you guys like this?!”

“We both have unresolved daddy issues, now get on with it or I’ll send Wanda in here.”

Y/N sighs heavily and slumps in her chair. She glances at her charging phone on the desk and tentatively picks it up. She unlocks it, a picture of her and her roommates popping up on the screen and the notification is still there. Still taunting her, still adding fuel to her friends’ pestering.

They have looked through his page, of course. They have looked at all the pictures with his friends, some of them recognisable from the halls of college, all the pictures of him in various cafes, restaurants, bars, gyms, but the picture she still comes back to is the one with him at the beach. Wayfarers perched on the bridge of his nose, ruffled hair in the wind, and that tan that stretches from the set shoulders to the prominent six pack (although the bottle of beer in his hand makes those abs so unfair to believe exist) to the firm thighs. She has looked through all of his pictures, analysing every detail and description, still wondering how in the hell she managed to catch his attention enough to grant her a message from him. And then she would go on her profile, filled with pictures from the dance studio, her coffee filled all-nighters in the library, and fair enough, there is that picture of her at the pool where her bum looks just right and she could get why in a sense, but what the hell, look at that guy!

Her fingers still hover over the notification indecisively, when the group chat pops up on her screen.

Wands: do it, bitch

Y/N: I was just getting myself ready!!!!

Wands: u’re a clown

Wands: JUST DO IT

Y/N: why must you attack me like this

Nat: I’m interrupting my fight with that idiot to send you this very important message

Nat: do it, bitch

Y/N: I hate you both

Y/N finally taps on the notification and there - in all its glory there is one simple message that has been giving her a headache since the previous night. Granted, she was a bit drunk on wine, and the shriek she let out when she saw the blinking notification made her toss her phone to the other side of the couch. Wanda picked it up and looked at it confused, while Natasha slumped on the couch in order to see over her shoulder. They both whistled at the same time, which was disturbing in and of itself, thinking how alike all of their mannerisms have become since they became roommates two years prior.

She takes a big breath that does nothing to relieve her nerves, and biting her lip, she finally opens the app to her messages.

JamesBBarnes: Hey

Huh. Funny how such a little greeting makes her tap her leg unconsciously to the point that their downstairs neighbours will be complaining at their door soon. She closes her eyes for a second, shakes her head and mutters a 'what the hell.'

Y/Nwhatthehell: Hi

Now that this obstacle is over, Y/N idly wonders what made her so flustered. He's just a guy who happened to send her a message after following her on Instagram. There's nothing weird about it, is it? They're both attending the same university, she's fairly sure one of his friends is actually the guy Natasha is currently fighting with on that project of theirs. Maybe he just wants to be friendly, maybe he needs some management information for one of his mock trials. Who even knows, so what is she so stressed about? With a huff, she throws her phone away, determined to finish the chapter opened in front of her and relax for the rest of the evening.

She's in the middle of writing the last note on employee engagement, when a ping from her bed startles her into dropping her pen. She turns cautiously, as if sudden movements would force Aragog crawling out of the device, but decides she's being stupid again so she stands up and nearly lunges on the sheets.

As confusion is written all over her face after reading the first line in the notifications bar, she opens the app and stares at the screen.

JamesBBarnes: Listen, I know this might sound weird, but could you ask your friend to stop fighting with Steve? I'm trying to study over here and he's been throwing stuff around since yesterday saying something about a redhead girl who's hijacking his trial just bc she wants to prove a point

She doesn't know what she was expecting, but it's definitely not this. Is that disappointment she feels for hyping herself up just so he can ask this type of nonsense of her? Maybe, but maybe she just feels a little silly for having thought this guy would hit on her on Instagram. She sighs and replies to him, now annoyed with herself more than anything.

Y/Nwhatthehell: why didn't you just send her a message?

JamesBBarnes: From what I've heard about this Natasha, you seemed like the more reasonable one

The reply is swift, and makes her smile. Nat can be a bit too much if not handled with care, especially when it comes to group work. However, Y/N now has what seems like a million questions, and she’s even more confused than a few minutes ago.

Y/Nwhatthehell: how did you even find my IG anyway?

JamesBBarnes: oh Steve has a huge crush on Natasha and we were all forced to go through her every single photo and hear about how amazing she is every single day since the beginning of the year

JamesBBarnes: but maybe don't tell her that 

JamesBBarnes: you know what, screw that. You can even show her that msg, the punk will never be man enough to tell her himself, might as well get my revenge for all the days I've been forced to listen to him go on and on abt her

She takes a second to read the messages again, when a howl of laughter bursts out of her chest. She had an inkling this was the case, from the way Steve has suspiciously been assigned to every single group project Nat had since September. And Y/N could bet his feelings weren't unrequited, for all the hissy fits Natasha has been throwing about him lately.

Y/Nwhatthehell: what if i tell you he might get what he wants if i tell her that?

Y/Nwhathehell: would you be able to put up with him when he's in a relationship with her? He's probs gonna be 10x worse

JamesBBarnes: oh shit u're right 

JamesBBarnes: fuck it, might as well get it over with. At least he'll stop moping every time she calls him an idiot 

Y/Nwhatthehell: you make a very compelling case, James. Studying law must have its benefits...you know, like having strong well rounded arguments

JamesBBarnes: my arguments would make more sense if i would be allowed to study ya know 

JamesBBarnes: and it's Bucky 

Y/Nwhatthehell: ?

JamesBBarnes: my friends call me Bucky 

Y/Nwhathehell: so we're friends now, are we?

Y/N can't stop the feeling of giddiness that starts to inflate through her chest. She might not have gotten the flirtatious messages she was expecting, but this seems somehow better. More real.

JamesBBarnes: if we're playing matchmakers for our friends, might as well be, don't you think?

Y/Nwhatthehell: i think i'll need a stronger argument than that in order to help you

JamesBBarnes: tell you what. I'll buy you a coffee and a pizza if you help me with those two 

Y/Nwhatthehell: coffee and pizza? A man after my own heart

She wonders for a second if that comment will freak him out, but hangs her head with a grin that splits her face when she sees his reply.

JamesBBarnes: only for you babe 

Bucky stares at the screen, unable to process what he just sent. He likes this girl, likes how his first impression after seeing her profile hasn't changed after starting to talk to her. He knows how easy it is to lie away your life on social media, and he can admit he's more than excited that she seems as wholesome and funny through text, and not only through pictures. Following her and sending her that message yesterday was his genuine desperation at trying to do something, anything really to make Steve stop, but he didn't expect to actually want to keep talking to her. He really hopes he hasn't messed up anything, when 'Typing...' keeps appearing and disappearing.

Y/Nwhatthehell: i'll hold you to that, babe

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Pet Peeves”

Don’t forget to comment with what your weirdest pet peeve is, and also a reminder that I am open to prompts if you have them, no need to ask permission :) 

Also a book update. Chapter 2 of the book has been with my beta readers for a few days, so I might be able to post it soon, so look forward to that.

Unlike other species, humans fall on a wide spectrum of temperaments from happy and laid back to angry and aggressive. As would only be logical, humans on either end of the spectrum can be easily annoyed or difficult to annoy, but there is one interesting fact about ALL humans laid back or aggressive; they have a list of small inconsequential things that will make them inordinately angry at the drop of a hat (Of course some of them may not be inconsequential, but I find that they tend to be). They call these pet peeves. You might assume that these would be large things relating to improper social behavior, or something similar, but most of them are just unfathomably unimportant. And, while a human isn’t likely to act out their anger on these, they will probably dislike you forever, or  if it doesn't involve you they will go out of their way to avoid the thing that annoys them.

I asked the humans this question about their pet peeves, and this is the ist that I received.

Commander Vir: Um, well that is a good question, I have a few of curse, who doesn’t. Um I hate it when my nails are cut short, and I have to touch some sort of grainy fabric, like velvet for instance. I mean I absolutely HATE velvet to begin with its like if you skinned Satan and made curtains out of him, and now you are going to make e touch it with the most sensitive part of my body…. *shivers* nope, no thank you. The only place velvet should exist is as red velvet cake. 

 Or, or…. *the human grows more agitated now* how about when people are CONSTANTLY late, and then you talk to them about it and they are all like *human changes to an annoyingly high voice* ‘sorry that's like, just how I am, the world is like, to focused on being late, well I have trouble waking up, and they just don’t understand me’ like BITCH SHUT UP and get to work ON TIME dear lord in heaven! You are WASTING MY TIME and the time of everyone else here by being LATE! *human clears throat awkwardly* um sorry….. I also hate it when people use like too much, I don’t know if you got that one….. I mean it is TOTALLY fine in simili, but when you just throw it in there. 

*he pauses to think* OH! One last thing, people who walk slowly in crowded hallways. You know sometimes I just have the urge to take a running start and shoulder check all those slow walking assholes into the floor and then go over them like a speed bump….. Is that an over reaction? 

Lieutenant Keita: Oh, do I have a list for you. Mouth noises, always mouth noises, I don’t care what it is, if I can hear you chewing, breathing, yawning, or coughing excessively, I just become filled with this…. This OVERWHELMING desire to hurt you. Like just close your DAMN mouth and stop eating like an ABSOLUTE COW! And those people who constantly chew gum, like no one is in greater need of a throat punch especially when you are having one of those bad days and you just hate everyone.

Speaking of especially, it's pronounced ESPECIALLY not EXPECIALLY, Like even grown ass adults have no idea what they are doing, and it just drives me insane just GTFO out of my life and get an education.

Also anyone who feels the need to say ‘basically’ in front of everything they say just needs to basically go and die! 

*humans eyes narrow* but of all the things I hate most of all…. irreguardless , that isn’t a fucking word. We have been doing this shit for 2000 years, and people are still saying this. Regardless means despite something, however if you add an ir in front of it, it's like a double negative which makes it NOT regardless you backwater sludge troll. 

*she takes a deep breath* I don’t know why this makes me so mad.

Corporal Ramirez: How about when my girlfriend says she isn’t hungry, but as soon as I get my meal she INSISTS on stealing my food. I mean seriously, if you wanted food you should have just ORDERED some food, these are my fries, get your own. I will pay for you to have your own, but you may not say that you don’t want any and then immediately take mine…. Unacceptable.

*the human rolls his eyes* Oh and don’t get my STARTED on astrology people. Listen guys it’s 4010 we KNOW that you aren't being a bitch because venus is in retrograde. Or when some backwards ass person stabs you in the back and is all ‘lol ssry its because im a candy-corn or a cheerio or a zebra. Like what the hell does that even mean! 

Or when they complain about things that can easily be fixed, or is totally their fault. Like when they are all cold and complain about it, and somehow, its impolite for YOU to say, well sorry you should have brought a coat, but I’m not giving you mine.

Sgt. Kae: Kids, whistling, people who have a special set of dishes that are for decoration and not for eating.

Systems officer Johnson: People who have mustaches, like seriously dude, people think your a pedo, everyone thinks your a pedo, or an 80s porn star, and not in a good way. Beard is totally fine, beard can even be hot, but the mustache is just creepy as hell. On that same line though, I absolutely hate it when guys with beards won’t shut up about their beards. It's like as soon as they see another guy, its beard wax or beard oil, or how anyone without a beard is just a little girl. Or when you tell them you don’t like beards and they take it as a personal offence to their honor and then tell you you just haven't been with a real man, and you would grow to like it. NO, no I will NOT!

People listening to stuff in pubic without headphones.

Or how about when people who sing take a song that you like and then add a ton of unnecessary runs to show off. Like thanks, you absolute trash bag, you went took my favorite song and ruined it. Like I will always love youuuuuuuoooooooahhhaooooahhaoooooooaaaaaahhhhooooo. It sounds like trash and it doesn't make you talented, so please go away.

Cadet Leu; Having something stuck in my teeth, people who leave the lights on, people who are indecisive, or when you are watching a movie and the dialogue is really quiet but the action scenes vibrate your insides at the same volume. 

I have found that it is completely plausible to develop a pet peeve if you spend long enough with humans. And you want to know what my pet peeve is…… do you really want to know?

Humans 

[oldfritz]

this was surprisingly hard because half of them I wanted to throw in f, but then felt guilty about it so here’s where we are. explanations under the cut to be nice (fair warning: I’m writing this while tipsy so this is a journey)

S-tier

Old Fritz: look me in the eyes. look at me. are you looking? good. where else was I was going to put him? where? in C with the other losers? foolish. I am ruining my life for this man, I’m going to go into debt so I can be moderately qualified to write books on him so Tim Blanning and Christopher Clark don’t boo my off the stage. I sit here sometimes and I’m like ‘y’know, I would start a podcast to talk about his life’ as if I’m some straight white guy who thinks any of you want to listen to me for an hour. he’s a bastard, a smug bastard, and is the epitome of self-destructive tendencies. and, honestly, I wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t so fucking misogynistic all the time. ‘oh women aren’t fit to rule’ shut up Fritz before I time travel to fuck your wife and make her have one night where life feels worthwhile. but he’s funny, I enjoy how he does foreign policy, and he’s unfortunately relatable to me. cheers, Fritz. here’s to never being satisfied from one gay disaster with anger issues to another. may we burn in hell together

A-tier

Friedrich iii: “Suzanne, he was only on the throne for 99 days!! how can he be this high up when some of these bastards refused to die?” I hear you, my friends, and I have answers. I’ll tell you two words you’ll be shocked to hear put together: liberal Hohenzollern. a rare breed, isn’t it? imagine, friends, a world where he got over his throat cancer because he listened to a doctor and we get through the 1910s, 20s, even the 30s without Wilhelm II Electric Boogaloo being in power. Prussia is still on the map, the Anglo-Prussian alliance is strong, and I live in peace. but no. this stupid man had to keep smoking. because he’s selfish and doesn’t care about my needs. you know, he actually loved his wife. rare in this family. loved her and wasn’t abusive. the bar is so low, guys. and his wife is amazing too, Victoria. the world would’ve been in competent hands if they’d been in power longer (and Bismarck would’ve been out of a job still but at least these guys are smart. their son inherited grandma Vicki’s IQ). I would sleep with both of them and would thank them for the honor (when it should always be the other way around, remember that)

B-tier

Friedrich I: if your name is Friedrich and only Friedrich, we’re buds. that’s my rule. I have to give him credit where credit’s due. he was the first. while I agree with Fritz in his proscription that he was ‘small in big ways and big in small ways’ (I may have flipped that around), he wasn’t a bad guy. he just was born into the wrong job for him. I appreciate that he rode on his father’s coattails of proving useful to the Habsburgs and did a little himself to get that sweet, sweet kingship. smart move. I also like that he saw Louis XIV and said to himself “I stan, I kin, on God we’re gonna do that’ and tried. only for have his stupid, ungrateful, unclassy son to do away with that. I, too, am a woman of luxury and self-indulgance and if I had all the riches of Brandenburg and Prussia at the time (not much), I would spend them ridiculously on outfits and music and art. now, what did he do as king? what policy legacy did he leave behind? that’s a good one :)

C-tier

Friedrich Wilhelm III: now as a king he sucks. and I stand by this because, you know, he lost to him *imagine me pretending to be short and saying ‘oui, oui’ in a bad french accent*. and as any proper Englishwoman I can’t support a monarch who goes around losing to the French unless their name is Mary I. but, he’s a pathetic little man. he really is. so indecisive, so unsure of himself. what are you doing little guy? you think because your last name is Hohenzollern, God thinks you’re a good king? well it is like 1805 and, while divine right isn’t really being used as much, it’s as good as any reason on why you’re the chosen one and my family is eating dirt in Sicily and on the Scottish border. he’s really just a dude, nothing extraordinary about him except that his wife was the only one with brains and was the first to establish that (sorry Wilhelm I). he cried when he found out that his children didn’t call him ‘papa’ and went into a deep depressive state when his wife suddenly died. he’s an average man, of average abilities, but of big heart. and the big heart is what bumps him up, for me, from his old place as an F to a C. though, his moralizing is tedious

Friedrich Wilhelm II: this man should have partied with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. everyone’s got that one ruler whose all about sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll. for the US it’s JFK, for the UK it’s Margaret Thatcher Charles II, France has Louis XIV. Prussia has this guy and we should thank him. so many mistresses, so much sex, so much revelry and debauchery and sin! this guy’s personal life is like a treasure trove of political and sexual intrigue. if you’re into that - as I am as a town gossip - you’ll love him. I am constantly amazed by the fact that some STD didn’t kill him. syphilis, herpes, crabs. something, man, anything. but he didn’t. he’s a shit king though. absolutely horrible. all he did was whine that he didn’t get taught anything by Uncle Fritz and, yes, that’s not good if it’s true (but it’s not completely because the treatises are detailed but I guess he didn’t have time to read) but c’mon. actually apply yourself and learn on the job. I know that would’ve required him to not be balls deep somewhere, but unfortunately he’s not Dorian Gray. there’s work that needed to be done and he didn’t do it. boo!!

D-tier

Wilhelm I: apparently he was a good guy, unlike the other 3 who populate the lowest rungs of Prussian kinghood. so I give him that and I can respect that. but what did he do? what were his own ideas? I thought about putting Bismarck as king instead because, really, he was. Bismarck was a minister who ran around the king’s back to set things up exactly as he liked and it fucking worked because he was the brains. his wife was intelligent too, but theirs wasn’t a wamr and loving marriage. and Bismarck worked to get Wilhelm to distrust her because she was liberal and the fact that Wilhelm would listen to Otto even if it meant allowing himself to be drowned in the Rhine is pathetic. fun party at Versailles though. hope it was worth the war reparations

F-tier (bastard time) I’m going in a different order because I want to go from the ones I hate least to most xoxo

Friedrich Wilhelm IV: “I won’t accept a crown from the gutter” then you won’t accept a crown at all, stupid idiot! god, the smugness. the authoritarian impulses. I know it was the cool thing in 1848 to put down any revolts/protests with as much force as possible, but man, at least the Habsburgs were transparent. homie was like “yeah guys lol I’ll make a constitution and it’ll be epic! you’ll have so many rights! xoxo gossip girl” and then...nope. and AND he wanted the Habsburgs in charge of things too! Mr. ‘I’m Nostalgic For When HRE Was Great And We Blew Austrian Dick!’ grow up man. it’s Prussia time buddy, Austria is beginning to fall apart. don’t look to the past, look to the future, but you didn’t have that vision did you?

Wilhelm II: *banging pots and pans* I blame this man for everything! now, intellectually, does Germany take all the blame for WWI? no, that’s foolish and propaganda of the Allies only. if you’re a European power in 1914, you get to share the blame (ex: why did UK need to make this a naval arms race? Austria should’ve declared war on Serbia sooner if that’s what it wished to do. Russia, please stay out of the Balkans then and forever). but does my irrational hatred of Wilhelm blind me to this truth when I see his stupid face and that ugly fucking mustache that I wish to yank off? my god, yes. I see him and Rule Britannia and The Yanks Are Coming start playing so loud in my head and I’m like ‘yeah, the kaiser’s gonna pay.’ I’m sorry that Bismarck’s ego was bigger than yours but did you have to prove him right by getting incompetent buffoons who were playing checkers when he set the board up for chess to replace him? Did you have to prove Freud right by displacing private problems onto public life with your little tit-for-tat with George IV (VI?) because his mummy loved you more? Why did you need to fuck every naval vessel you saw like an inferior of Peter the Great who believed he was Sir Francis Drake? but that’s just the first war and he lived to see things setting up for the second. wasn’t in convenient for you to be close with the N@zis when you thought they might want a king back on the throne and you could reclaim your little tyrant. like every goddamn Prussian conservative or Junker, you thought you could play the tyrannical cockroach. sure, you figured out earlier that he was no pal, but you still collaborated and you still allowed yourself to get played like the weak man of conscience you are. cheers!

Friedrich Wilhelm I: ladies and gentleman, the moment you’ve all been waiting for! the biggest bastard straight outta Berlin, FW1! and who doesn’t love an abusive father? who doesn’t love a man, so insecure and pathetic, that he needs to terrorize children to be able to look at himself and have a little pride. I understand that it was because he wanted his kids, specifically Fritz, to be best. but being best and perfect meant being miniature versions of him and aren’t we supposed to want our children to be better than a carbon-copy of a small man? honestly, I could live with the occasional smack for this time period. it’s within the norm and, while horrible, isn’t irreparably damaging. this guy really had to beat the shit out of Fritz and Wilhelmina and I’m sure Augustus and Henry and Amalia and all the others (so many kids) didn’t get spared either because if you hit one, you’ll hit ‘em all. and I judge them for their flaws all the same but, for some of them, it gets hard to. because what fighting chance did they have when their father was telling them how worthless they were and beating them senseless and threatening death and life imprisonment on some? I’m constantly impressed by Henry and Fritz and Wilhelmina for amounting to any semblance of maturity, even though it’s always fleeting, because this man didn’t give them the tools to be functioning adults. but each of them managed to be greater than their father, as did Amalia managing a really cool coup in Sweden. and what did FW1 get? he built up his army, had a tall guy fetish, increased the treasury, and made the cabinet and executive offices more efficient. there used to be this one guy on here that would argue that that was all a good king made and that this lowlife didn’t deserve the contempt he got by some on here (an obvious vague of me) for his behavior as a father. and maybe I’m a crackpot, but I believe the quality of a man outshines all those other achievements and that that’s meaningless to me, in my personal life. and when I get to hell, before I go to any of these other men, I’ll go to him and ask him how hell’s fires feel because, if his God was real, it would never love him. and that’s beautiful