#i wanna frolic so bad man

[sh1nst34l3r]

((I need to frolic through the fields and hope there are conveniently no snakes right about now tbh

[senselessviolets]

“stay soft”

Roman Roy x Fem. Reader

Rating E (Smut)

Word Count: 3.3k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Mommy kink, smut, some plot, this man has MOMMY ISSUES™️, gentle femdom, titplay, breast sucking, so much dirty talk, Roman gets called “baby” a lot, no PIV, no uses of Y/N

Author's Notes:

The people have spoken—y’all want Roman being fucking babied in bed so that’s what the fuck I did and I have zero regrets. Totally gave up in the end but school’s been incredibly draining for me so I’m proud of myself for even getting THIS out.

[Gif creds: I forget. if it’s yours, lemme know!!]

Summary:

You are an equally wealthy childhood friend of the Roys and Roman in particular. After years of little to no contact with him, he and you decide to finally act on the mutual attraction you both share in the most ‘Roman way’ you can think of. 

“Okay, but like if we…fuckin’...if we fuckin’ do this, I will want…some things. But I’m not g’na fuckin’ beg or anything…call you mommy, ‘goo goo ga ga’…none of that shit. I will want you…to be there…and I will want you to ‘not be there’...if you catch my drift. I-I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ word or a single moan. I don’t want—I just don’t want it, okay. And this might sound bad—even though I’ve definitely said worse—but you would be just a-a means for me,” a voicemail blears in your ear as you are made aware of the four calls you missed in your slumber, “‘Kay? I dunno. Think it over. It’s not fuckin’ life or death. Until it is. And I kill you. And hide the body and burn the evidence…kidding! ‘Kay, love you, kidding, ‘kay, bye!”

This was uncharted territory for you both. 

You and Roman and the other Roy children were longtime family friends. Like Stewy Hosseni or a lesser example Ray Kennedy. What that meant was your incredibly loaded dad gave Logan Roy an ungodly sum of money in the nineties and had managed to stay on his good side ever since. At their status, that’s what qualified as ‘friendship’. Everything was a transaction at the end of the day. Like you suspected Logan and Caroline had bought their way into their kids’ hearts, to even be in the same room as these titans—to breathe the same air—you had to beg, steal, or borrow. Fortunately, you hailed from less-than-humble beginnings; your father being an incredibly successful venture capitalist-turned-philanthropist and your mother the heiress of a billion-dollar publishing company. 

But it was all just details. 

You were eternally grateful to be an only child, imagining an existence where you and your progeny were destined to forever claw at each other's throats—all for whatever scraps your parents were generous enough to leave you.

Unfortunate. ‘Pitiful’ felt more accurate. Every hollow soiree and vapid function served as a reminder. These were not your people. And they never would be. And yet—

“Heya! Well, you look less miserable than usual. Lemme guess, you finally ditched Loser What’s-His-Face and have taken up my longstanding advice of giving lesbianism a try,”

“Hi, Roman. No, I’ve actually been reminiscing about our younger years together. Remember the time you threw up in your mouth before presenting me my corsage the night of the winter formal? Seventh grade? Ring a bell?”

“That was because it only dawned upon me then that I would be getting Cody Keener’s sloppy seconds,” he answers, “I just couldn’t cope with that, I’m sorry,”

You slug him in the arm and he reacts overdramatically, as if someone stuck him with the pointy end of a knife. Onlookers included none other than Frank Vernon, Hugo Baker, and a close friend of your mom’s, Michelle Anne. This time, you and Roman had crossed paths at your father’s 70th birthday party. It was held at your parents’ penthouse on the Upper East Side and attracted a decent crowd. Faces you’d sworn you met pass you by as strangers come up to you, recounting memories of you who were only this tall. It was always a discombobulating experience but you continued to frolic and mingle nonetheless. 

In truth, this little ‘reunion’ was nothing but a facade. 

You and Roman had been talking for weeks now after years of no contact with one another. Brief texts turned into prolonged phone calls which by the end of the night became one-sided, pathetic voicemails expressing some sort of yearning for the other. It was becoming all-consuming and quite frankly, exhausting. And now it had finally come to blows. 

There was a plan, there were contingencies (of course, there were) but above all—there was transparency. And that was something you could hold onto. Oh, the many men who lied their way into your bed. And then here comes Roman, who’d made it abundantly clear he’d rather inhale glass than have you worm your way into his. So this scheme would not transpire at his place or yours. 

It would be occurring in a Central Park Suite at The Carlyle—just a quick jaunt from your parents’ place. He deigned to be a gentleman and handled the reservations as well as your transportation because you had to already be there. You were going to be lying on the bed, in some satiny sleepwear. No lingerie, no hosiery—nothing that could be construed as ‘sexy’. You were to look mundane, average, and bored. 

Roman would enter and you would be still and let him do as he pleased. While you’d had this endeavor nailed to a T, you’d be lying if you said the prospect of him going off-script—doing things rougher, harder, doors off the hinges, letting his darker impulses get the better of him—didn’t make your knees buckle a bit. 

So once the candles had been blown, the birthday wishes made, and goodbyes were said—you were to slide into his black Range Rover SV while his secondary chauffeur Crispin brought you to your destination. In your duffel was your change of clothes and a few other goodies. It had crossed your mind—once, twice how exceedingly easy it would be to bail right about now. Crispin could drop you off on the side of the road like some floozy and then your personal chauffeur could pick you up and drive you back to your cozy brownstone for a mundane evening spent by yourself—alone. That was the part that struck a pang in your stomach. That was the truly unbearable part. That, and the heat between your thighs which was starting to become really inconvenient. 

…

Now was not the time to get cold feet. 

You had already slid your sequin cocktail dress off and exchanged it for your satin sleepwear. Like the pretty kept thing he’d instructed you to be, you lay flat across the plush hotel mattress, awaiting his arrival, legs swinging to and fro like an eager teenage girl.

Maybe he’d be the one to pussy out.

At least then you’d have yet another thing to hold over his head for the foreseeable future. In your phone’s front-facing camera, you inspected the makeup you’d done earlier that evening for the party and it still seemed sufficient. Your lips seemed a bit drab. You roll off the bed and I sift through the contents of your bag, searching for the mauve lip color you’d brought along. Dabbing it onto the purse of your mouth while gazing into the mirror of the room’s modest vanity—you begin to lose track. 

This isn’t it and you know it. 

You know it. 

So fucking do something about it. 

Examining the time on the wall clock, you decide to hastily shake off your striped satin pj set and tear through your duffel for the sheer lace slip and matching long gloves. Not liking the unkemptness of your long hair at this particular moment, you palm your bag for one of the chignon French hairpins that had sunk their way to the bottom—a go-to for you since your younger years. The best you can muster is a half-up, loose, more-than-messy low bun because suddenly, a knock on the door can be heard. Your heart leaps into your throat and you shove your duffel bag into the armoire in a hurried panic. The click of the hotel room’s keycard lock comes next and you spring to the door as to be the one to open it. You and Roman meet each other’s gaze through the crack of the half-open door, you two beam down at your hands, enclosed over both sides of the handle. He is very noticeably startled, not expecting you to answer the door.

“C-Come on in,” you stutter, gesturing into the hotel suite with a gloved hand. 

Roman’s mouth goes dry. It is not all that often the family jester is able to be truly caught off-guard. This absolutely was one of those times. He shuffles into the room with tepid steps and doesn’t turn around to face you until he hears the door click shut. With a blank, nonchalant expression—he shrugs, prompting you to provide some sort of explanation. Of which, you do not possess. 

“What?” you say. 

“What’s…all of that about?”

“Yeah, sorry…wasn’t really feeling the pajamas tonight. I opted for something I felt was a little more fitting. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,”

He definitely fucking does mind actually. But any frustration at being caught unawares expresses itself in the form of big beautiful hazel eyes beaming at you with fear and uncertainty. His lips are parted, unable to form the words he can’t even begin to think of at this particular moment.

“So…,”

“...so…?”

“So…lay down,” you finally say.

Roman is able to briefly channel the smarmy assholeishness he usually hones with a sarcastic scoff and smirk. He shakes his head to himself before his gaze finds the floor. 

“...I’m sorry, maybe you just didn’t hear me right the first time,” you say, crossing over until you are eye-to-eye with him and your competing breaths can be felt, “...or maybe I should’ve been a bit more specific.”

You lean in until your lips brush the outer shell of his right ear and he stops breathing. 

“Roman. Lay the fuck down on that bed. Now.”

He quickly scrambles onto the bed, resting on his back while slightly sitting up. There is a tentative eagerness in his demeanor as if the last hints of resistance in his muscles had yet to dissipate.

“Good. Now can you unbutton your shirt by yourself or do you need my help?”

“...I-I-I need your help,” he mindlessly babbles, “P-Please. Please, can you help me?”

You click your tongue at his wanton request, attempting to maintain your composure. It was after the first ‘please’ that you knew you were going to willingly give everything in you to this man right then and there. 

The safeguards? Fuck the safeguards. 

The time for self-preservation was about five or so minutes ago before his knuckles had rapped gently on the heavy wooden door. Without breaking eye contact, you straddle him effortlessly, both knees on either side of his hips. You aren’t certain because all the blood had flooded to your ears and you were unable to hear much over the thumping of your own heartbeat but you swear you hear a quiet ‘oh god’ slip out of him. Your fingers find the buttons on his grey button-down and your wrists noticeably begin to shake as they undo them.

For fuck’s sake.

Up until this point, you had conjured the impression that you were the one in control here and that there was nothing he could say or do otherwise. But now the true vulnerability of the situation had begun to set in. The playing field had been leveled. 

His fingers enrapture yours and he steadies your grasp as you both work to unbutton his shirt. Roman swallows, anxiously. You get more than half of the way there before he gives up and presses his face firmly to yours. 

It’s a declarative kiss. 

It’s long-lasting and when the two of you eventually break it—you know there’s no going back. Those hands of his, wracked with nerves, find their way to your hips. He slowly drags the lacey fabric up so your upper thighs are exposed. Once you can feel the soft flesh of your hips exposed to the cold air, you grab his wrists and he freezes. 

“Ah-ah-ah, I don’t think I remember saying you could do that,”

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t—I’m sorry,”

“So many apologies, they just keep on coming,”

“I’m…,” he deeply exhales out of his nose. 

“You’re what? Wait, lemme guess,” you goad, “Sorry?”

He bobs his head up and down, face full of embarrassment.

“Hm…think I’m a little sick and tired of those ‘sorrys’, sweetie. You and that mouth of yours. Oh, that fuckin’ mouth of yours. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of headaches it’s caused me in what, the two decades I’ve known you? What are we gonna finally do about that mouth?”

Roman looks up to you, hanging onto your every last word. 

“I-I don’t know, j-just tell me what to do. I can make it up to you, I-I promise,”

You genuinely take a moment to mull it over, though the growing hardness pressing against your most intimate place admittedly was making it hard to think.

“...I think…we need to find another use for that mouth of yours—something to keep it busy, hm? How does that sound, my sweet baby?”

You swear his face goes pale as he assumes you mean your cunt. While the thought had crossed your mind (many, many times in fact), knowing Roman—you know that would be too much. And that you would lose him forever somewhere along the way and you didn’t even want to begin to think about that. 

You tilt your head, staring longingly at that poor little boyish face of his. Your clothed index finger traces its way slowly from the exposed flesh of his tummy, up to his ribs, across his collarbone, along his Adam’s apple, over his bearded chin— finally stopping at his pinkish bottom lip. You pull it down, making him pout for you. 

“Open for me,” you utter softly. 

Roman obeys, his tongue moving upwards in his mouth when he swallows. You continue to tease around his mouth torturously, the lace creating a delicious friction against his beard. The heat of his pants against your lone finger makes you stir inside. 

“Now, close your eyes—mouth still open,”

He noticeably resists before relenting, his eyes flutter closed. You drop one of the spaghetti straps of the slip off of your shoulder, exposing yourself. Your nipple pebbles in the cool air conditioning of the room. You awkwardly lean your torso inwards, inching your breast closer to his mouth. For a brief second, his eyes flick open, taking in the scene. Catching your drift instantly, he swallows as much of the soft flesh as his mouth will allow, moaning into it. The most obscene sucking sounds soon fill the room. Roman whimpers into your skin, letting his head fall limp against your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head. His brown fluff of hair is too tempting for your hands to not tangle themselves in. 

“There, you go…you’re so good. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Yeah?” you sigh, tilting your head backward.

You swear you can feel your hips gyrating on their own. Roman’s fingers have ensnared themselves onto the flimsy fabric of your slip, gripping it so tight you think it might tear. Not that you’d give a shit if it did. 

“Y’know what I think? I think you act the way you do all the fucking time because you’re just waiting for someone to come and put you in your place, is that right? Yeah? You’re a brat ‘cause you want someone to do this to you? Hm?”

He releases your nipple and an almost pornographic line of spit drools from his mouth. Roman’s lips are plump and rosy, kiss-bruised and swollen. You find out just how warm they’ve become when his wet mouth comes to meet your own in a kiss so messy, you know you’ll touch yourself thinking about it later.

“I-Is this good? A-Am I being a good boy for you?”

“Mm-hm, you’re being a very good boy for me. My good boy. Mommy’s good boy, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes—” he sobs, moving onto your other breast.

His voice is shrill and wrought with desperation. You only ever heard it get this high-pitched when he was making a mocking impression of you or some other woman. And now here he was, making these noises all on his own. The edge of his bottom teeth catches your nipple in just the right away. You squeal, jolting upwards in his lap and laughing at the surprise sensation. He soothes the sensitive skin with the flat of his tongue immediately after. 

“That’s it. There’s my boy, there’s my sweet baby boy,”

All of the sudden, his hands leave your slip and fly to the buckle of his belt. Roman undoes his zipper and shimmies down his slacks enough to pull his dick out. He jerks it quickly with his eyes wound tightly shut in an attempt to get himself completely hard. 

“M-Mommy, c-can I see ‘it’? P-Please, god!” Roman begs out.

Your current position leaves his cock hidden by the hem of your slip. All you can see is the silhouette of his fist in the fabric pumping up and down speedily—relentlessly. He could easily just lift the skirt himself and look at your bare pussy, just as he hungrily wants but he doesn’t. 

He waits. He waits for you to give him permission. 

“See what, sweet boy? Say it, use your words for me. You’re a big boy, you can do it. I know you can,” 

Your hands cup his face and you rest your forehead on his. The skin is taught and slick with sweat. A vein above his brow becomes visible as he strains into his own palm. 

“What do you want, Roman?” you reiterate, trying to regain his attention.

“Fff-fuck! Your p-pussy, I wanna see y-your pussy!”

“All together. Say it all together. Say ‘Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?’” 

“Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?”

His eyes finally open and they aim downwards, expectantly. 

“Is that all you want, pretty boy?”

“N-N-yes!”

“Is that all you want?”

“No! No, I wanna cum, I-I wanna f-f-finish! W-Wanna finish on it,” he whines.

“All together, baby…”

“Mommy, can I please finish on your pretty pussy?! Please!”

It’s on the last syllable of his sentence that he erupts. Only as he’s cumming is he able to look at your cunt. You swiftly move the fabric up and his load catches the edge of it, the rest of it coating your exposed pussy. Roman falls backwards limp onto the pillow and you roll off of him and the bed and onto your jelly-like legs. The two of you don’t look at each other, occupying opposite sides of the room while you make yourselves decent. You shed your stained garment, using it to wipe your cunt clean. You fling it onto the hotel carpet and don’t think twice about it. 

“Mind if I…borrow that…for a bit?” a weak voice croaks from across the suite. 

You turn your head and smirk, still topless.

“All yours.”

Briefly, you catch a glimpse of Roman from behind, buttoning up his shirt. You pull up your dress, sweatier than before when you had taken it off. You expected there to be a palpable shift between the two of you, had everything gone according to plan. You figured the next RECNY ball that was just around the corner might be a bit awkward but it was nothing a few sarcastic quips and some alcohol couldn’t fix.

“My guy’s still waiting out front, so that’s my not-so-stealthy getaway. I can have Crispin pull around in twenty if I guess, I dunno, you wanted to shower the stank off of y…”

Roman’s words trail off as he becomes caught up in the sight of you; your cocktail dress zipped up halfway, your hair in an even messier updo than before, one heel on with the other remaining to be seen. It left him dumbfounded, feeling impulsive, like he could leave everything behind then and there and things might turn out alright. 

“Um…d’you maybe wanna just come with me…I dunno. Back at my place, I mean. And don’t make it into…it’s not a thing. Th-This is not a thing. But, yeah, we could order in whatever you, you could stay over, I-I got spare rooms–”

“Roman—”

“—it-its not like a big deal or anything, y’know? This isn’t, this wasn’t ‘a thing’. Fuckin’ labels and everything, I m—”

“Roman! That all sounds fine; I just would like to exit one of the nicest hotels in the damn city not looking like a two-bit whore, yeah? Come and zip me up,”

“I mean, if you ask me—I think it’s a rather fitting look,” he says, echoing your previous words.

“ROMAN!” 

“Alright, fuck, fine!”

End.

{ Feedback is welcome! }

Follow me on twt: @endlessviolets

<3

[mouth-dreaming]

The New Kids on the Rock Movie:

*shot of Plymouth County high school*

*Spencer skateboards into class super radically*

Spencer: yo wazzup broskis 😎

Cynthia: erm..Spencer, teacher said no hipster slang allowed!! 😰

Spencer: whatever bros, hipster slang is like the new English anyways. Besides, it's not like that lame old man is gonna hear me anyways.

...

Erm..he's totally right behind me, isn't he?

Spencer was just an ordinary kid from Plymouth County

*principal slams detention note on the desk*

Spencer: aw what?! Detention?! 😡 That's so not radical! 🙄

Principal: I'll say it before and I'll say it again. NO HIPSTERS ALLOWED!! 🤬

Spencer: that's so bogus!! 😡 🙄

But pretty soon, his life is about to change

*Spencer is about to get beat up by bullies*

Kevin: hey, stop right there kids!

Bully: erm..dude, look behind you.. 😰

*the bullies look behind them and GASP*

Bullies: RUN!! 😨

*three guys stand in badass poses*

Neil: hey kid 😎

Spencer: wait...NEW KIDS ON THE ROCK?!?! 😱 🤯

Now he must team up with three heros

Spencer: let's go stop these bullies!!

*the new kids beat the shit out of a bunch of bad guys*

And save the day

*Neil almost gets shot by lazer*

Spencer: WATCH OUT, BRO MAN!! 😨

*Spencer jumps in front of Neil in a heroic act to save him, getting shot and flown across the room*

Spencer: er...I'm alright, broski....

Before it's too late

Mayor: HIPSTERS ARE RUINING THE NAME OF THIS TOWN!! 😡 🤬

THEY MUST BE DESTROYED!!

*citizens hold up a bunch of pitch forks and fire* YEAH!! 🔥 🔥

Join the new kids

*cut to shot of new kids in BADASS hero poses*

*Spencer frolics through a hot topic*

*cuts back to Spencer talking to ryan*

Spencer: I just wanna be free, I just wanna be a hipster!! 😢

On the adventure of a lifetime

*Spencer turns his hat backwards In a really epic way*

Spencer: it's show time.. 😎 ...ironically

The New Kids on the Rock Movie

Coming this August

[variousqueerthings]

im watching a danish 1918 silent film called "himmelskibet" (the sky ship/spaceship) and it's interesting from several perspectives

for one, i enjoy the idea that these people have the notion of going to space and build a spaceship (an incredibly charming spaceship) in 2 years and it works! lifts ve-e-e-e-r-y slowly out of the atmosphere over the course of several days

for two, they're going to mars. which in 1918 reads differently im sure, than in 2024 and the rich colonialism wet dream -- also because in this movie mars is in fact populated, so it's actually not colonialist in the way it might have been x amount of years later in space-exploration cinema and the martians are depicted as being far more civilised (and also more... back-to-the-earth, we'll get to all of That) than earthlings, which is interesting

for three, they build the spaceship and point it towards mars, but don't have the tools to gauge how long it'll take to actually get there -- they calculate a presumed date before they leave, but whilst on the spaceship just have no idea where they are? this isn't deep, it's just funny to me

point the fourth. mars is populated. it's populated by a bunch of very human-looking aliens, because it's 1918 and the only difference between us and aliens is that the aliens are fruitarian hippies who all wear long robes (yeah, i can buy that) who have overcome everything bad that humanity currently is. the message is a hopeful one, with the lead martian saying "what we are, you will become"

the martian society is presented as a utopia. they're fruitarians, they've got no crime, no violence, and in what feels like some of the most long-lasting of political ideas, when the astronauts bring violence with them, they are made to think about it, but not punished (and there's some christian repent vibes to it, but it's not too egregious as to not work as concept -- the movie as a whole is very christian in feel though) and the protagonist considers how evil it is to throw people into prisons on earth. there's also a whole thing about embracing/celebrating death, rather than fearing it, which i wanna roll around in my head for a bit

but... the film tries very hard to juxtapose this utopian ideal with earth, however can't figure out how to make that work in imagery, or even put its finger on what is actually wrong with earth society that violence abounds in the first place (you'd think there might be some wwi imagery in there, but no, not a one -- its way of "showing violence" is random young well-dressed people on the street assaulting an elderly man and laughing, or smoking and dancing, or implied sex before marriage...)

all the scientists/leaders on mars are men, while the women... idk, frolic in beautiful dresses (there are a couple of interesting women in this, but they're not The Thinkers, they're The Feelers). they're all white and christian (if, danish christians rather than american christians). they're all thin and able-bodied and "beautiful." there's a scene where the women dance "a chastity dance." it begs the eternal question of "wait is this actually portraying a white supremacist eugenics cult?" WHICH is not what the movie wants to say, it very much wants to say something about anti-violence idealism as the future for humanity, it's like. got its heart in the right place, even if the final messaging is "we take this woman from a higher culture and within her lie the seeds for a superior earth," which hmm.. yeah. ive. ive heard things like that said before. not about a martian

it's interesting what kind of shorthand we have for storytelling. how the people making this movie undoubtedly were trying to think of the most visually effective way of conveying utopia, and how that imagery is mainly used today to make a viewer go "uh oh" to the extent that i almost briefly wondered if there was going to be another shoe about to drop, even though the movie hadn't been going in that direction at all

very much enjoyed it on the whole though. a moment in time. a very very early scifi film. ye olde danish text

And the most important thing.

Behold A Spaceship:

[homopathy69]

HIS ASS QUIET!!!!!

I will not disclose the reason for his anger

ughoaokwii i need to go to a fucking what is it called vocational college seminar and I DONT WANT TO IM NOT GOING TO VOCATIONAL COLLEGEE!!!!! Grrr!!!!!!..!!.!.!! I’m also so not getting into university theres just no way they’ll take me :P can a bro just chill 🍃 fr.,….,.,.,.i mean i got a bit over two years but come the fuck on I’m not making it and I don’t even need to. University only has one thing i want which is education but I can do without university to get education. Plus everyone’ll expect me to do something great after like jesus hermann christ mom I’m not gonna do groundbreaking discoveries in chemistry im sorry. I’ve pretty much abandoned all my plans by now because there’s nothing i can do except trying not to be a burden on society and do my part to make some people happy. I don’t want anything which is bad because i think you’re supposed to want something from life but it might be just cuz im ND and I don’t see myself in traditional work or work at all. I just want to frolic in the flower fields and be left alone until I am done baking but I’m afraid I’ll get burned to a crisp if i keep saying im not ready. I might go to italy for two weeks for a school thing which is great. I hope the weather is better than here.

Speaking of weather i was actually kinda counting on the fact that I wouldn’t even make it to spring but apparently life has a way of keeping me alive. I simply cannot fit a hospital stay nor death into my schedule. My schedule has plenty of empty space dont get me wrong but It’s because I’m a mentally exhausted little man and i need to ruminate in my sadness.

Im twitter posting again but tumblr is better for it because it actually lets me type an essay. Ughhoojqlal I don’t wanna go to my art classes tomorrow they both suck major ass. In the other one we’re using adobe illustrator and it’s just….. dreadful. The other one is a movie course which is fine but it’s very taxing for me. I just kinda wanna drop out but the law won’t allow it anymore. Which is good cuz id be dead without school :P

[stinkrascal]

my sil has these two beautiful dogs that we’ve been watching for her since she had her twins earlier this month, and i adore them so much omfg. she has a male pit bull who’s around eight years old, and a female doberman who’s three years old, and they’re sooooooooooo sweet to me!!!!! every time i come into the room, they dart to my side and force me to pet them. when i sit on the couch they cuddle up to either side of me and watch television with me!!! the pit bull keeps trying to sneak into my bedroom, and it makes me so sad when i have to kick him out. i share my room with my boyfriend, and he doesnt want dogs in the room, which i respect, but if it were up to me the dogs would be sleeping in my bed bc i love them that much!!!!!!

[here4theheartbreak]

Warm Beach Afternoons (ksj + jjk)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Seokjin Genre: smut, PWP Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2.6k

Tags: smut, PWP, cockwarming, dirty talk, watersports, oral sex, Omorashi, rough oral, semi-public blowjobs, coming untouched, deepthroating

Summary: It's far too hot for any sort of nonsense, Jin thinks. Jungkook has other ideas.

A/N: Second Kinktober fic, day 4: cockwarming. This fic was inspired by this lovely piece of artwork. 

The sun was boiling hot. Too hot to reasonably be outside, Jin figured. And he was determined to take every opportunity to bitch about it to anyone that would listen. The rest of the group ignored him, as they always did – disrespectful kids, he did something wrong raising them. The makeup noonas only laughed and offered him ice packs or cold water. 

And of course, there was Jungkook – in a league of his own, set out to torture Jin at every turn. Jungkook heard Jin was overheating, and his priority became laying on the elder, leaping on him, hugging him, or otherwise smothering him, at every turn.

Not that Jin really minded. For as much as he’d complain about Jungkook, that young man had his heart locked away in that beautiful bunny smile. They hadn’t mean to get so involved. Jungkook was the baby of the group, he was the elder. He knew he should be taking care of Jungkook – and that didn’t mean stealing kisses from his perfect mouth or routinely railing him into the bed. But despite knowing he shouldn’t, Jin couldn’t help it. He’d found himself falling hard and fast for the golden child. The other members knew, but opted to look the other way; so long as they didn’t get themselves outed in some horrible way, it didn’t bother them. 

Most of the time, they were careful. Jungkook was clingy with everyone, so nobody thought twice when he’d leap into Jin’s arms, or chose to crawl into his bed while on a trip somewhere. Even the fans thought it was oh so sweet and brotherly. Of course, there were whispers, usually from international fans, about what if, maybe they are – but nobody gave them much thought. It was harmless. 

What wasn’t harmless was the current situation. Jin was trying his best to remain cool as they shot the last few photos from his group shot with Jungkook and Yoongi. However, every time the cameras paused – and a few times when they weren’t, Jin found himself with a very large, heavy, and hot Jungkook leaning on him. 

He pushed his arms off for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, whining. “It’s too hot,”

“It’s not that bad,” Jungkook complained. He back hugged Jin once more, blowing cool air on the back of his neck. Jin gritted his teeth, hating how nice it felt. 

“Just a few more in the lifeguard seat,” the cameraman said, clearly mistaking Jin’s expression for annoyance. “Then you three can relax. We’ll shoot a little further down with the other four.”

“Sounds good,” Yoongi said. “That spot of shade is calling my name.”

Jin chuckled. “Agreed. You go first,” he offered, motioning his head to the lifeguard stand a few feet away. Yoongi headed for it, crawling into it and settling in for the photos. Jungkook went next, and Jin took a moment to shake the fabric from his skin, sticky with his sweat – and Jungkook’s. 

Jin climbed into the stand last, working with the photographer to take the photos he needed to take. When the man finished, Jin slumped down in the chair, closing his eyes and letting the sun beat down over his skin.

“Gonna get a sunburn,” Jungkook scolded. Jin opened his eyes, looking down. Jungkook was climbing up the lifeguard stand, effectively pinning him there. 

“Then let me get down, I’ll join Yoongi in the shade.”

“Nope,” Jungkook leaned forward, going nearly nose to nose with Jin. Jin pulled his head back, glancing over to make sure they were alone.

“Jungkook,” he warned.

“I’m horny,” Jungkook said softly.

Jin’s eyes widened. “When did you become so damn brazen.”

“We’ve been so busy working on the photoshoots for the single… You haven’t let me touch you in days.” Jungkook leaned on the stand, forcing Jin to open his legs or have his knees crushed by Jungkook’s weight. Jungkook slid his palms up Jin’s bare legs, squeezing his thighs under his shorts. “I miss you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jin whispered, relaxing a little at Jungkook’s firm, steady touches. His eyes fluttered shut. “We’ll play together tonight, okay?”

“What about right now?” Jungkook offered. Jin felt him shift and opened his eyes, surprised to see Jungkook climbing down. His hopes for freedom and relaxation were dashed, however, when Jungkook stopped a few feet lower, his torso still against Jin’s legs. He palmed Jin’s cock through his shorts, meeting his gaze. “We have time.”

“We don’t,” Jin argued, gasping a little when Jungkook squeezed. 

“We can make time. I can hurry.”

“It’s far too hot for this,” Jin complained even as Jungkook pulled his cock from his swim trunks. 

“Drink some water then.”

Jin swore softly, chuckling. “Also, we’re gonna get caught.”

“Doing what?” Jungkook asked, his eyes wide and innocent. “I’m just playing with my hyung on the lifeguard tower,” he leaned forward, sliding Jin’s half hard cock into his mouth. 

Jin jerked forward, grabbing Jungkook’s back. Jungkook took him the rest of the way in his mouth, reaching up to grab Jin’s back. He knew, from where the rest of the crew was, it did probably look like they were just wrestling. 

The only problem was that Jungkook wasn’t even sucking. No, he was holding Jin’s cock in his perfect mouth, only moving his tongue every now and again. Even as Jin swelled to full hardness, Jungkook remained still. Jin pinched his side.

“Come on, hurry up and make me come,” he hissed, watching the others frolic down the beach.

Jungkook pulled his mouth off Jin’s cock with an obscene pop, his lips wet. “Come? I’m not blowing you.”

“Then what’s your face doing on my crotch?”

Jungkook smirked. “I thought your cock was cold. I’m warming it for you. I can’t make you come, we’re in public.”

Jin gritted his teeth. Jungkook grinned and slid his mouth back over Jin’s cock, nuzzling down as far as he could. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Jin hissed. “I’m pounding your ass tonight for this.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes up. He pressed his tongue up, applying pressure to Jin’s cock. At the same time, he let his teeth graze dangerously over the sensitive shaft, and Jin’s eyes rolled back. 

“Be careful,” he growled. Jungkook moved his teeth back, his lips curving into a smirk around Jin’s cock. The little shit knew exactly what he was doing.

No matter how Jin tried to move, to stimulate any part of his cock, Jungkook remained still, entirely relaxed. It wasn’t as if they were atop a lifeguard stand with their entire group and about twenty crew members a few hundred feet away. 

Jin was in agony. This was worse than edging; he was sweating, turned on, and desperate. Yet, the lack of stimulation - and ever constant stimulation - of Jungkook’s mouth had his cock in a state of half hard, half soft. Jungkook’s mouth was warm and wet and comfortable… 

Jin hissed. “Let me go,” he panted. “JK, I gotta piss.” He pushed at Jungkook.

Jungkook looked up at him. He winked. Instead of moving, he closed his lips more firmly around Jin’s cock and shifted. One hand slid down, and he pressed hard on Jin’s lower belly, not breaking eye contact with Jin. Jin’s throat closed when he realized what Jungkook was getting at.

“N— Here?” Jin panted. He and Jungkook had played with piss a little, but never in public. Not that he was opposed… Frankly the idea had his heart racing. He looked back down the way at their group and then to Jungkook. “You sure?”

Jungkook’s nostrils flared. He nodded as well as he could, shifting just a little. He buried his fingers in Jungkook’s shaggy purple hair, leaning forward just a bit. A few drops came first, and the thought of them landing on Jungkook’s tongue nearly made him moan. He closed his eyes, focusing on the warm, wet, tight feeling of Jungkook’s mouth. He willed his bladder to release, pushing away thoughts of arousal flooding in. 

There it was. A spurt of piss first, and then a gush. And there, a full, steady stream. He could hear Jungkook gulping rapidly, and feel the warm piss filling his mouth. It was pooling around the base of his cock as Jungkook struggled to swallow it down. The amount of water he’d drunk throughout the day was coming in handy, he realized. He looked down, meeting Jungkook’s gaze.

He was tearing up, his nostrils flaring as he breathed between gulps of Jin’s release.

“Cockwarmer, huh?” Jin whispered. “Looks like what I actually have here is a nice, portable urinal, isn’t that right?”

Jungkook’s eyelids fluttered shut. Jin laughed softly, stroking his cheek. “Almost done, baby. Keep swallowing for me… Fuck, Jungkook. Drink it all.”

Jungkook gave a full body shudder, his fingers tightening on Jin’s lower back. 

Jin pulled his cock back slowly as his stream ended, letting Jungkook swallow the last bit of piss. He opened his mouth when he was done, showing Jin his proof.

“Good boy,” Jin murmured. He tried to tuck himself away but Jungkook made a noise of annoyance.

“I was a good cockwarmer and urinal,” he whined. “Don’t I get a treat?”

Jin glanced at the others. “They’re about done.”

“And you’re hard already and always come fast after you piss. I can do it.” Jungkook smirked. “Wanna know something that’ll speed things along?”

Jin raised an eyebrow. Jungkook shifted, standing up a little higher on the ladder of the stand. Jin could see the front of his shorts, tented from his own erection. Jungkook pulled Jin’s cock free and kissed the tip and looked up at Jin. “Slide your hand in the front of my shorts.”

Jin shifted, sliding his hand down gently, past Jungkook’s tight stomach, the tie of his trunks, the soft, curly mat of his pubic hair…

“Oh...” Jin breathed, his cock throbbing. “Is that…”

Jungkook grinned. “I came in my trunks while you were pissing in my mouth.”

Jin moaned softly. He ran his hand over Jungkook’s cock, feeling the slick squish of his come, clinging to his skin and hair.

Jungkook sank down on his cock, his shoulders heaving a little when the tip bumped his throat. He began to suck and swallow, barely moving his head. Jin grunted behind closed lips, playing with Jungkook’s come covered cock. It was a secret between them, this kink. If it was a kink. An association, really.

The night that Jin took Jungkook’s virginity, they began with foreplay. Which turned into Jungkook sucking Jin’s cock; not a bad arrangement if Jin could say so himself. Jungkook had been in his jockey shorts at that point. And, in his ever so eager way, ended up coming prematurely, spilling his release in his shorts. Though he’d been embarrassed, Jin had never been more turned on in his life. He’d come so hard he saw spots just from Jungkook’s mouth on his cock, and his hand down the from of his come filled shorts. From that point on, Jungkook filling his underwear with a surprise load of come was the quickest way to get Jin to orgasm; and Jungkook was good at it. Jin was starting to wonder if the guy could come on command with how easily he came in his shorts during foreplay, even after all these years. It wasn’t that he was always premature; having sex, Jungkook could go for hours sometimes. But if the mood struck… It happened. 

Jin whined softly. Jungkook was mouthing along his cock perfectly. “So dirty, JK,” he teased. “Filled your trunks with all this come… And not even being touched. You squirted while your hyung was making you drink his piss. So, so dirty.”

Jungkook pulled off Jin’s cock with a wet pop. He began to stroke him in short, fast strokes. “Can’t help it,” he panted. “I just love your cock… Being your cockwarmer made my dick so hard. I was wishing you could just lay me in the sand and ruin my asshole, right there… And then you started pissing, I couldn’t help but get so much hotter. It tasted so good and it makes my belly feel full and warm, I just had to let a load go.”

Jin shuddered, his orgasm nearing. He pulled his hand free and licked the come from it, earning a happy little gasp and sigh from Jungkook.

“Well, I’ll need to punish you tonight,” Jin murmured.

“What will you do?” 

“I think I’ll need to pound your ass… Make you scream loud enough all our members hear.” 

Jungkook’s eyes rolled back. He nodded quickly. 

“And maybe after,” Jin muttered, “I’ll leave another round of piss in there, make you plug it up and hold it until your stomach hurts.”

Jungkook whined and nodded again. “Please, hyung…”

“We’ll see,” Jin murmured. “Swallow it again, I’m close.”

He pushed Jungkook’s head down, sighing happily when Jungkook took his cock to the root. A few quick bobs of his head and a few swipes of Jungkook’s expert tongue, and Jin was coming, spilling hot ropes of come into his soft mouth. 

Jin felt his entire body relax, the tension draining out of him with each spurt. “Perfect,” he sighed.

Jungkook pulled off him with a pop and tucked him away. “They’re coming,” he whispered. 

Jin straightened up and grabbed Jungkook, shifting their posture to look like they were wrestling on the seat as the others neared.

“You’re going to fall,” Namjoon called as he approached.

“He’s trying to smother me,” Jin complained. Jungkook popped his head up, shaking it to try and fix his hair.

“I’m just making sure you’re cozy, the breeze from the water might be cold.”

“Troublemaker,” Jin grumbled. Jungkook laughed and crawled down the ladder. Jin glanced down, relieved to see his crotch was not showing any bulges or wet spots. The makeup girl rushed up, fixing his hair without question; she was used to fixing mistakes from their wrestling on shoots. Jin crawled down as well, watching Jungkook from afar. He wondered what she’d say if she knew that mess of Jungkook’s pretty hair was from Jin’s hands, pulling and tugging. Or the slightly smeared lip color was because his lips were around Jin’s cock… She wouldn’t be happy, that’s for sure.

Jungkook glanced over, meeting Jin’s gaze and offering a sweet smile as she fixed his makeup. The photographer was talking about the last few group shots, but Jin could barely pay attention. One word he heard for sure though, was water.

“We get to play in it?” Jin asked, perking up immediately.

The photographer thought for a moment and nodded. “Sure, I think that would be cute photos perhaps. But we’ll do that last, so if you guys get your outfits wet, it won’t be a big deal.” Jin nodded. He leaned over a little, allowing the makeup girl to fix his hair and face when she came at him. 

They set to work after, finishing up the beach shoots and heading to the ocean. Jin tried not to keep staring at Jungkook, but it was impossible. He did, however, try not to notice (at least visibly) when Jungkook made sure to go at least waist deep into the water, inconspicuously shifting to make sure his trunks were well soaked in the crotch area. 

As the shoot wrapped up and they dried off and changed back into their normal clothing. And, of course, as was the pattern, Jungkook took that opportunity to drape himself over Jin, warming every inch of his body that he could reach. But Jin didn’t complain this time. This time he leaned into it, savoring Jungkook’s embrace. Pesky or not – Jungkook was his happiness, and he’d never trade a second of time with him for anything else in the world.

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU [Book 3]

New? Read here! Then here!

Part 1 - Part 2

Chapter 10.75: It’s Vinegar- Wha?- It’s Vinegar, Pussy

I’ve been taking notice of the servants, they all have distinct features and some of them seem to serve a particular family member when they come around. Which leads me to think that this servant that took the picture probably knows the most about the house. From what I remember from the hologram, this servant is male presenting with light skin, sun spots, salt and pepper hair with a very pronounced nose. Problem is, I haven’t seen him.

I had some afternoon tea by myself in the parlor as uncle Tensei did some calls to our extended family. Usually I hate having tea time, because it makes me feel like a pompous piece of shit rich boy and I prefer coffee anyways. But I took the tea this time to observe the servants. I learned that they all gather in the kitchen at 8pm to gossip before the non-live in servants have to leave for the day. So I snuck down to the kitchen to listen in.

“...Can you believe I served afternoon tea again! Ugh, when will I forget he’s dead now?!”

“I saw, nice save that you served it to Iwata-chan.”

“Man that kid beefed up! He used to be so timid and never show his power. But I saw the way he levitated those antiques with ease, kid is like his mother.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see more of the family now that he’s dead?! The mother is just so pleasant to be around.”

“Too bad Thad-kun won’t be here to see them spend more time at the estate. He loved Itati-sama and Tenya-sama.”

I peeked my head in “Who’s Thad-kun?”

The staff yelped and jumped at my sudden appearance.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” I bowed in forgiveness “But I couldn’t help but to overhear that there’s a servant that isn’t here anymore?”

“Yes, Thaddeus was one of the oldest servants here” spoke one of the female servants “he was the previous head of estate’s favorite servant, from Thad’s record, he was about 20 when the previous head of estate inherited the estate. Since then, Thad was in service of him and only him.”

“Yea, Thad-kun passed two years ago of the flu in his private quarters” spoke one of the chefs “Poor man didn’t have any family or children, just spent his whole life serving the Iida family. But he adored all the family that married in and the children, he took pictures of all the children when they’re newborns and puts them in this scrapbook.”

“Oh yea the scrapbook! Pretty sure it’s in the parlor bookcase” chimed in a younger servant “We hid it from the old head of estate, we were scared that he might destroy it or something. Anything to preserve the memory of our friend.”

“Yup, all of us feared that old man. But Thad-kun knew how to calm him and never missed a single tea time” said the chef “We have his journal in the parlor book case as well. There’s notes on what that old man liked in case he wasn’t around to serve him and we dip into it when anything comes up.”

“Hmm, I just might crack into them” I pondered “Thank you for sharing! Sorry for interrupting again, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Any time Iwata-chan!” said all the staff as they waved bye to me.

I float my way to the parlor, trying to not make noise to catch the attention of my uncle or the other servants that have night duties. I search through the books to find an old green leather photo album and a worn black journal. I took the books to my room to look them over, the album had so many pictures of couples and babies with their names neatly written underneath the photo. It was so organized that I could trace back to who was my great-grand father! Apparently I came from a side branch family and that theres 4 branch families and one main, but the main family didn’t marry and had children to maintain lineage. So great grand uncle was the last one of the main family. I only know of one other branch family, the other two are a mystery to me. Getting to the end of the album, I put it to the side and opened up the journal. I get to an interesting part that reads: 

March 14th, 

I helped Iida-sama take down portraits in the Lineage Hall. He’s asked me to burn them but I don’t have the heart to do so. When he left for work, I hid them in the West wing linens closet. I can only hope he will forgive me someday. Erasing these people and only keeping the heroes this family is the work of a tyrant! Mothers, daughters and non-engine sons are to be celebrated with their hero relatives. May the next heir see the light and I’ll unearth the family hidden history.

The west wing linens closet?! Such a place exists?

-The next day-

“Tio, what’s the agenda for today?” I asked after breakfast.

“Today I’m going to check in with the agency on the phone” responded Uncle Tensei “then talk to the gardeners, then we plan for a welcome ball.”

“Oh uhhhhh can any of those things wait until tomorrow?” I got timid over the full schedule of things “because I found an important clue regarding the portraits.”

Uncle Tensei looked at me with intensity “The agency can wait, show me what you found.”

I showed them the journal entry “...so do you know wheres that linens closet?”

“Hmmm the West wing is used to store the decorative pieces of the estate for Balls or other events” pondered Tensei “Nobody in the family would think of finding something that important there since it’s a servant accessible area...”

We looked at each other and activated our arm engines to zip to the west wing. It was like we shared the singular brain cell at that moment and it was telling us to stop being civil and zoom. And sure enough, there was the portraits! Still in excellent condition and in their original frames. There were some without frames and they were portraits of the women that married in the family in the recent decades, the most recent one was of my mom. I looked at the portrait and was stunted by the artist’s capture of her natural beauty. The way they painted the flower crown and her curls, the exact shade of medium tan skin, the detail of the rebozo on her shoulders and the crisp white of the traditional dress. She was so young in this portrait and it made me wonder when this was taken.

“Oh my I remember when this one was painted” chuckled Uncle Tensei as he caught me gawking at the painting “Your dad had this arranged for your mom’s 24th birthday, months before they got married. These are usually done with traditional wear and since your mom isn’t Japanese, she showed up in that dress and shawl. All the women in the family were fawning over how beautiful her traditional dress was. The artist was so inspired by the flowers in her hair that he had he pose in the garden, making her portrait the only one painted in an outside setting.”

“Wow, she had that type of power over others huh?” I said in awe.

“She didn’t want to at first but the family painter convinced her that she was already the first ethnic woman to marry into the family, may as well make the portrait as unique as possible” a frown slowly crept onto his face “But then great grand uncle wanted the portrait scraped because she wasn’t in kimono and that she looked unkept with her down down and no makeup. Honestly, I feel like he didn’t want Tenya to marry her because of her ethnicity but turned a blind eye on that because she was a CEO and wanted to asset the company. Your dad had this whole plan to make a garden for your mother to frolic in when he gets the estate, with lots of flowers and fruit trees OH and the lily pond! It was going to take up like half of that empty lawn space in the middle.”

I looked at the portrait “So much fuss over this woman.”

“But she was worth it. Look at all the things she contributed to the family!” He started to describe “She doesn’t see it but she’s a blessing to us. We needed someone outspoken and bold to challenge great grand uncle’s tyrannic ways.”

That stayed with me for the rest of my time at the estate. I didn’t know what to think of my mom anymore, yes she’s amazing but she kept an important part of history from me and who know who else?! Finally, after 6 days of tolerating it, I was able to go home! And just in time! It’s the day before Christmas Eve and Lili is flying in today. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” asked Uncle Tensei as I take my bags to the front door “I don’t have any business to attend to today.”

“Naw Tio, I’m good” I sigh tiredly “I’m just a little sick of spending time together like this, as much as I love you as my uncle” I float my bags “I just wanna go home on my own and reflect on things.”

“I understand, every young man needs their time alone” Tensei smiled warmly “Have a safe journey home, see you in a few days.”

I wave good bye “Bye bye tio!” I turn my head to the servants that gathered around “Bye bye everyone else! Thank you for helping me find the critical clue in the portrait mystery!”

Everyone bid me good bye and safe travel until I was out of sight. From there I took a short train trip and two buses home, picking up a few interesting things along the way that I could gift. In total, it took about 3 hours to get home. Whole time I was just thinking of the ways I was going to confront mom about what I learned. The ways I could say how I feel, the ways she might react...I don’t know what to expect! And I’m super nervous. I stood at the front door for maybe 5 minutes because of how nervous I was! Finally mustering the courage to open the door with my eyes closed, the air of baked goods hit me first. 

“I’m home” I announced myself, holding my breath to whoever answers.

“Iwata, you’re home” yipped the robo dog as it trots into view “Did you know it’s been 222 days since you’ve last been home?! I missed you very much and so has everyone else.”

I bent down to pet them “Has it? It feels longer than that” I booped their nose “I missed you too boy.”

“Mom is in the kitchen, Dad is picking up Lili at the airport, Hanaka is at her friend’s house and Tensei is practicing with their group” listed the robo “Everyone should be home before 7pm for dinner...it is now half past 4.”

I look at the clock thats mounted at the entrance to confirm the time, then looked down at the shoes. Mom’s were there in their usual spot and I kicked off mine in their usual spot. Now it feels like I’m home. I slowly made my way to the kitchen, and there she was, taking cookies out of the oven in her iconic floral apron.

“Mom? I’m home.”

“OH! Iwata! I didn’t hear you come in!” Mom squealed before setting down the hot tray to embrace me “I thought your were coming home tomorrow?!”

“Nah I’m sick of looking at Tio and doing rich people things” I gagged to drive my point “I left late morning and took public transport. I just really wanted to come home.”

“I understand mijo, I probably would’ve done the same” she pursed her lips and placed her hand on my face “Why don’t you settle back in? I’ll have some food ready for you if you’re hungry.”

My stomach growled in comedic timing “Heh, okay. I’ll go do that.”

My side of the room stayed untouched, as expected. Tensei was a good boy and doesn’t go through my things. I slammed myself face first into my bed and screamed into my pillow. GOD I missed my bed and the comforts of home! As I unpacked, I remembered what I was going to do and dreaded having to bring it up in casual conversation with her. I hid the device in my closet shelf, away from Hanaka’s prying eyes. When I finally showed myself downstairs, mom had my plate of food ready at my spot on the nook.

“How was things at the estate? Tensei hasn’t told me much other than it’s been busy.” Mom said as she washed her hands “Oh that reminds me! The school called tell me that you missed some finals and they’re letting you make them up the weekend before school resumes.”

I sat down “Things were weird mom. I learned way more than I asked for” I sighed and picked up my fork “I never want to be that rich and be without family! Did you know that the oldest butler hid the family portraits that the old man took down?! I didn’t know you had a portrait done with them.”

“You found it?! I thought that old man for sure destroyed it!” gasped Mom “It was a beautiful painting and a very sentimental art piece to your father. He wanted to keep it if the old man didn’t approve it to be hung in the estate, but before he could ask, it was gone! Or so we were told by the artist.” She sat at her spot to listen to me “What else?”

In between bites of chilaquiles, I told her of my time and who I spoke to. I tried to bring up what I wanted to confront to her about, but that look in her eyes and all her attention made me want more of her...I missed my mom and I as torn between all my emotions I was feeling. Wish I didn’t have to do this. Everyone came home and we were finally a full house. It felt so good to be in their company again, I didn’t even mind all the smothering this time! Suppose the confrontation has to wait.

-The next day, at breakfast-

“Damn B, it’s just spam and eggs with toast” said the twins, looking at Lili and me have a breakdown over our food.

Lili wipes her eyes “I KNOW! I have to cook for myself every meal” she pointed at her toast “I have to wake up at 6 in the god forsaken morning so I can buy bread like a peasant woman because there isn’t any chain grocery stores where I live in France!”

“I haven’t had a single decent meal since I lived in the dorms” I held my toast up gently “F in the chat for the toaster in the dorms that Beizu tore apart for parts in August.”

Lili held her toast up with me “F”

“Yall are so fucking weird” Hanaka said with a groan “You don’t see Oro and I do this shit.”

“Don’t make fun of your older siblings” scolded Dad with an arm chop “They’ve had a tough time being away from home. You’d understand once you have to cook for yourself everyday.”

“ANYWAYS! Mom, who’s coming tonight?” cut in Tensei.

“Oh ummm, Mr Hitoshi and his husband. Aunty Mimi with Nikita, uncle Jin, Mei and Beizu, Mr Tokoyami and Petti, the Ojiros” listed Mom “Aunty Midnight, Hoshi and the Midoriyas. So more people than usual.”

“Aw abuela and abuelito aren’t coming this year?” responded Tensei with a pout.

“They’re coming for abuelita’s birthday, so don’t get all pouty mijo” assured Mom “But after breakfast, we gotta get our butts in clean mode because Mr Hitoshi and his husband are coming at 3pm, they’re dropping the kids off at their grandparent’s then coming straight here.” 

And so I got back into the swing of things, my winter chore is cleaning the bathrooms and making sure they’re fully stocked with toiletries. I was done before our first guests were supposed to come, so my mind raced with how I was going to talk to mom as I showered.

“You decent?” knocked Lili at my door.

“Yea, come in” I said as I was drying my hair “What’s poppin’?”

She threw her arms around me and squeezed me “I just wanted to come in and hug you” she pinched my arms “Damn boy, UA beefed you up! I couldn’t tell under your baggy sweaters.” She laughed “But forrealzies, how much did you inherit?”

“Straight to the point huh?” I leaned in to her ear “2 million dollars and all the old man’s collectables.”

“Shut the fuck up!” gasped Lili “So you and tio were the only ones on the will?! That’s pretty wack, I’m the oldest and dad is literally that man’s family!”

I sighed “It’s complicated but I’ll say that it all has to do with mom.”

“Damn, but what are you going to do with the money?” asked Lili curiously.

“Might buy myself a house and go to college, or save it if I get a really good job out of high school.” I flop onto my bed “Lili, do you ever feel like mom has been hiding something from you?”

“Yea, it’s a given.”

I turn my head to face her “Wait what?”

“It’s a given. I’m sure mom hid things from us to protect us or because it’s none of our business” She responded “She’s a reasonable person, maybe she’ll tell us eventually when she’s ready to tell us. I’ve been curious of mom too when I was in high school. Nothing made sense and I felt like maybe I wasn’t going down the right path, so I asked her what she did and it opened up her past. After that conversation, I had more respect for her and felt like I can be more open to her about what I’m curious about.”

“Do you think she’ll answer me if I ask her something?” I felt my stomach tie itself into knots “I learned so much about her from other people that I’m not sure if we know the same person.”

Lili put her hand on my back “She’s our mom, no matter what, she’ll love us.”

That made me feel so much better about what I was about to do. I took my calming breaths at the base of the stairs before facing mom in the living room. She was having some down time after slaving over the pot of Pozolé and Ponché, her face still red from the heat of the pots.

“Hey mom, ummm mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure mijo is everything okay?” responded Mom as I sat down in the arm chair adjacent from the couch “You seem kind of stiff.���

“I’m just nervous” I responded “I just... I learned alot of things about you these past months. And I have so many questions that I’m afraid of knowing the answers too.”

“What is it? You can ask me anything” Mom said, looking attentively “You have my full attention.”

It hurt to see her like this, especially with what I had to say.

“Why did you hide about the death of Beizu Iwata?” I asked, looking at her dead in the eye.

Her face didn’t budge from her expression “I didn’t? His death is public information-”

“Stop LYING TO ME!” I yelled “You know what I mean! He was Bei’s dad and you couldn’t save him, and you’re guilty of your incompetence so you had me to give his son a friend. And that’s my purpose isn’t it?! I’m just some living plaything!”

“Iwata why would you say such a thing! I didn’t-”

“SHUT UP I’M NOT DONE TALKING!” I raised my voice “You named me after him, I’m here to just fix your mistake aren’t I? And what about your lovechild with Mr Hitoshi?! Oh and not to mention on why you came over here alone at 15 years old!” I felt myself become tense in this mix of rage and the verge of tears “It’s like I don’t even know you! WHO ARE YOU?!” I felt the hot tears run down my face “and why are things so complicated?”

Mom was white as a ghost and frozen on the couch. And my yelling got the attention of my dad.

“Iwata El Roca Iida! What is the meaning of this!” demanded Dad as he approached us “You dare to yell at your mother in that tone?! What has gotten into you? I-”

Mom held her hand up, commanding dad to stop talking. She then got up, stood in front of me and got on her knees for the deep bow. I’ve never seen her do this before and I got scared.

“I’m sorry Iwata, please forgive me for all my mistakes” she lifted her head to show the tears creeping down her face “I know I’m not a perfect mother and I’m a very flawed human with a very troubled past, but please let me explain things.” She took a deep breath to stabilize her breathing “I named you after Beizu Iwata, he’s one of the few people that I trusted to run the company. He poured his everything into the company and I wouldn’t be as successful without him. His death devastated me, I chased after him when he ran back inside the burning building. When I begged him to get to safety and to leave everything behind, he looked at me and touched my stomach before breaking the 6th floor window to throw me out with a box in my arms. Of course somebody caught me before my body reached the ground and he reappeared a few minutes later. After his death, I learned that I was 2 months pregnant with you, he saved both of us mijo. If I stayed any longer, I risked losing you and I don’t think my heart could take another infant death.”

“Another infant death?” my eye widened “No, don’t tell me-”

“I’m afraid so” She tried really hard not to lose her composure “I lost my first baby that I had with Mr Hitoshi, I wanted to have them so badly. You don’t know how much it hurts to not have a family when you still need them, so you make your own. But it hurts even more when you lose the family you failed to build.”

“Ita, please stand up” gently begged Dad, on the verge of tears “Please love, you don’t have to re-live the trauma. It’s okay.”

“No Tenya, I have to say it. How will we move forward if I don’t say what happened in the past?” She couldn’t look at us and kept her head down to face her lap “I came here to protect my family...” She told me the whole story of what happened in America and her decision that changed her life forever “...And that’s my burden to bear. I wish things didn’t have to be like this and I could be with my family and made my dreams come true back home. I dedicate my life to making sure nobody has to every go through what I went through unless it’s their decision.” She looked at me “I understand that you might not want to associate with me after all this, but just know that I love you so much. I wanted to have you, to nurture you, to teach you that you are free to be whoever you want to be, to love whomever you want” Her expression was full of pain, like it was bottled for years and it’s now surfaced “I know of all the bad things that could hurt you and I shouldn’t let one of them be me. And I’m sorry that I have.”

I felt like the villain, making my mom re-live her trauma and tell me she’s a bad mother. She’s not a bad person, she’s lived a life full of tragedy and we’re the one good thing that went right. And after all that, she still has the capacity to tell me she loves me? I really don’t deserve to be her son. I levitated her up and ran into her for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry” I sobbed “I didn’t know! And I feel awful! I just thought that maybe-”

“It’s okay baby” She shushed me, stroking my hair “No more bad feelings, no more deceit. If you want to know something, don’t bottle it up, just tell me and I won’t turn you away.”

“Okay mom” I held her tighter “I’m sorry I ruined Christmas.”

“You didn’t ruin Christmas Iwata” chuckled Mom through her tears “Your tia set the Christmas tree on fire when I was like, twelve, and it burned all the presents underneath it.”

“Never mind that actually sucks” I laughed, pulling away from her “Then is everything cool?”

“Hmmm, I wouldn’t say that” Mom said, giving me her iconic career ending face “I cleared up and explained myself, now it’s your turn.” She levitates me so I wouldn’t run “Care to explain your little academic double life?”

“Huh? What are you talk-” It hit me, she knows about my double program enrollment “Oooooh, oof.”

“We’ve known since June” Dad spoke up with his arms crossed “Nurse Eri told us when she called to discuss your health exam. We talked to the school to confirm, so theres no use in lying your way out of this one Iwata.”

I looked at my parents and sighed in defeat “Fine, I enrolled myself in the Hero and Intel course after your Great Grand Uncle told me he was going to pay for my tuition. So to spite him later, I was going to show him that I got both and decide to be an agent instead of a hero to break the streak of heroes in the family.” I felt like a trapped animal awaiting death “He insulted my family and I used my favoritism as my upper hand to get back at him that I am my mother’s son and so what?! Fuck that viejo and his hateful ass, I’m half latino!”

“You really are your mother’s son” said Dad in disbelief “It’s like looking at your mother when she was your age, same pettiness and pride!” He cleared his throat “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to punish you for lying to us on why you’re always stressed! You know better than to overwork yourself.”

“And on top of that, I had someone on the inside tell me about the device and the old school files” Mom added “So you peeked and meddled into my personal business ey?! And all you did was hurt yourself. We have no choice but to issue capital punishment to you AND Beizu.”

I gasped “You leave him out of this! He’s innocent!”

“Can’t do, he’s your accomplice” Mom pulled out her phone to show me texts “One of the perks of having friends that work in a school is that you have watchful eyes on your children at all times.”

“Damn you got us” at that moment, I knew I was about to hate my life.

“We’ll come up with a group punishment later, but we agreed that you’re to be sentenced to house arrest for the rest of the winter break” Mom crossed her arms “AND we’re taking away cursing privileges, starting now.”

I gasped “NOOOO! Anything but capital punishment!”

The doorbell rang, it was our first guests.

“Hey I brought- oh are we interrupting something?” Mr Hitoshi said walking into the living room.

“Not at all! Just issuing punishment” Mom puts me down and turns to the two men “Iwata was just talking about you Hitoshi!”

“Oh yea? About what?” chuckled the purple haired man as took a seat.

Mom motioned to me “Iwata, care to share with him?”

I gulped the guilt lump I had in my throat “I know about your and my mom’s baby and their death was the reason you left my mom.”

Mr Hitoshi’s face turned white “How did you- There’s no way!”

“He got real nosey and hurt his own feelings” Mom summarized it “Oh you brought the saké! Bring the cups out Tenya!”

“What else did you learn Iwata?” asked Mr Neito.

“I learned that you, um, did the deed with my mom” I cringed “Many times, in the dorms and a few times in the workrooms at school.”

“YOU WHAT?!” screamed Dad with a tray of specialty drink ware.

“Oh don’t act surprised Tenya!” Mom put her hands on her hips “It was totally obvious! I lost my virginity to him. And I rewarded him with intimacy after training and in turn, became a decent person.”

“Yup, sorry Tenya that you got my sloppy seconds” responded Mr Nieto unapologetically “But as I said at your wedding, good for you that you got a woman that can really spice things up.”

“I thought you meant that she’s a good cook!” Dad defended himself “Not that you two had a thing in the past?!”

“Join the club, I didn’t know either until she dropped off the wedding invite” Hitoshi said as he poured the saké “But I’ll drink to that!” He handed each of us a little cup of the alcohol and raised his glass “To Ita and her bomb pussy game, it was the one thing I missed the most.”

“Kampai!” cheered everyone but my dad and I.

I downed my cup and held it out again “Imma need another cup so I can forget that chief.”

I waited patiently for Beizu to come so I can hold his hand as we get flamed my our moms with the group punishment. And when he did, his face was puffy from crying and we just held each other for the brief moment we had before getting flamed. Our mom’s agreed that the group punishment was no sleepovers the entire break and one week of intense training with aunty Mimi. I didn’t know what to do, other than go up to my room with Beizu for blanket fort time.

“Iwa, we were so wrong about things” Beizu said softly as he put his head on my chest “but I’m happy it wasn’t that way. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, it’s the one thing I’m certain about.”

I smiled and stroked his hair “Me too, we’re two halves that can’t be left incomplete.” I thought about my inheritance “When we get older, would you go on a vacation with me or co-own a house with me?”

Beizu thought about it for a minute “Hmm, I’d co-own a house with you. Because then we can spend everyday with each other.”

“What if we do both?”

“Even better but I’m just thinking of all that money we’d need to do that” explained Beizu “the house is a better investment.”

“Okay, say I inherited 2 million dollars and I want to spend it on us, now what would you say?”

His eyes widen “You did not just inherited 2 million?!” Beizu was in disbelief “I’d probably just marry you at that point. Hell, lets get married right now!”

I laughed and brought him in for a hug “Let’s get married and spend all of our money on pillows and our favorite foods. Living easy for the rest of our lives.”

He held me tight “That’s my dream, to be with you forever.”

So maybe Christmas wasn’t ruined by me and I was just being latino-in-a-telenovela dramatic. I feel so much more like myself now. Year two of this shit is really happening!....wonder if it’s gonna rock my shit.

Chapter 10.75, End

<Previous - Next>      

[masterserris]

FUNERAL FOR A MAGICIAN FINAL PART: Be Human

Mysterio is back in action! Renewed, what will he do next?!

“I analyze and I verify and I quantify enough One hundred percentile No errors, no miss I synchronize and I specialize and I classify so much Don't worry 'bout dreaming Because I don't sleep

I wish I could at least 30 percent Maybe 50 for pleasure Then skip all the rest

If I only was more human I would count every single second the rest of my life If I just could be more human I'd have so many little babies and maybe a wife

I'd roll around the mud And have lots of fun Then when I was done Build bubble bath towers and swim in the tub

Sand castles on the beach

Frolic in the sea Get a broken knee Be scared of the dark and I'd sing out of key

Cuss when I lost a fight Kiss and reunite Scratch a spider bite Be happy with wrinkles I got when I smiled

Pet kittens til they purred Maybe keep a bird Always keep my word I'd cry at sad movies I'd laugh til it hurt

I'd buy a big bike And ride by the lake And I'd have lots of friends And I'd stay out too late

If I could just be more human I would see every little thing with a gleam in my eye If only I was more human I'd embrace every single feeling that came in my life

Would I care and be forgiving? Would I be sentimental and would I feel loneliness? Would I doubt and have misgivings? Would I cause someone sorrow, too? Would I know what to do? Will I cry when it's all over?

When I die, will I see heaven?”

(This was the only full version I could find RIP)

Characters: Neo Mysterio (Quentin Beck), Doc Ock (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker), Alexandria Beck (Alex), Sandman (Flint Marko), Chameleon

Warnings: Explicit gore and death, violence, mentions of past abuse, mental illness, physical illness, swearing

^These warnings are here for the story as a whole. If you get invested by reading a less graphic chapter, then be prepared for the warnings above in other parts!!

(swearing in this chapter + moderate/mild gore and violence)

Parker was taking photos of the event for the Daily Bugle, but as everyone was leaving, he had caught the four Sinister Six members out of the corner of his eye. He was not about to let them escape. 

Luckily, since all the celebrities were heading out, he had a perfectly good excuse to leave himself and change into his spider suit. He quickly tailed them from a distance as they headed to their hidden limo. He shot a spider tracer at the vehicle as they were entering, but this did not go unnoticed.

Just as Quentin was about to get in, he saw the tracer on the back hood and immediately shot his eyes up enough to glimpse Spider-Man. He jumped back and his Neo suit materialized over his dress suit. Chameleon and Otto sped off into the night after Mysterio peeled the tracer off the car. Flint and Beck were ready for a fight.

Flint: “Ay, Spider-Man! Why can’t ya just leave us alone! We wuzn’t doin’ nuthin’!”

Neo Mysterio: “Right, leave it to you, Spider-Man, to ruin our little night on the town. I’m honestly not surprised since you always have a habit of making my life worse than it already is.”

Spider-Man: “Really, bowl-face? I just wanted to tail you guys and find out what you were up to. You’re the ones wanting a fight! And besides, I really find that hard to believe. You’re the Sinister Six. It’s kinda your brand to make bad things happen. And no one made you become a super villain in the first place. You all chose to be one.”

Flint: “It ain’t that easy, Spider-Man. Life has a nice way a’ pushin’ guys like us around to do things we don’t really wanna do.”

Spider-Man: “So don’t do it, then! You think your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man doesn’t also have spider-problems? We all do! Our choices are what make us heroes or villains. You were literally given a second chance, Beck! That’s more than most people! Are you really gonna throw that away by sticking with these guys?”

Flint turned to Mysterio, worried for his friend.

Neo Mysterio: “Spider-Man, every time you’ve interfered in my life, things have gotten worse. I was just some nobody committing petty crime to try and pay off my debts and make a new life. But you caught and beat me. Put me in jail, only to be busted out by my new friends. They’ve treated me far better than most people ever have. Every time you try and stop us, more people get hurt. I died because you just HAD to defeat me.”

Spider-Man: “I- no... that’s... But even still! Think of all the people we saved! From Ultron! From Terrax! Those worlds would still be under treat!”

Neo Mysterio: “Maybe! You don’t KNOW that! I can NEVER trust you hero types! So many of you flip-flop between hero and villain or just fight amongst yourselves all the time! At least I know where I stand with villains.”

Spider-Man: “Beck! Please! You’re making a mistake! Marko! I know you’ve struggled with being a villain in the past! Both of you can walk away from this, here and now! Do the right thing you know to be true!”

Flint: “Sorry, Spidey. I got people countin’ on me to see this through ‘til the end. I ain’t no quitter.”

Peter desperately turns back to Mysterio.

Spider-Man: “Quentin! Think of your sister! Would she want you to do this? Throwing away your life again after everything that’s happened?”

Mysterio was deathly silent for a moment, before snapping.

Neo Mysterio: “Don’t you DARE. Don’t you dare for one SECOND try and use my sister to try and manipulate me into doing what you want me to. You have no idea what we’ve gone through. You don’t know a THING about me, Spider-Man. Just. Stay away!”

And with that Mysterio slammed a smoke grenade on the pavement. Before Parker could leap after them, they had vanished completely. Peter was no closer to finding out their plans nor where their new base was. All he knew is that he drove Beck further away. He screwed up.

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

After meeting back up at the Sinister Six base, they all except for Quentin had departed to their quarters. It was certainly an interesting night. Beck had thanked them once again for trying to cheer him up. With a sigh he reached into the communal fridge for something to drink.

???:” Fancy meeting you here.”

Beck whirled around in shock only to see Flint leaning against the table, looking smug.

Quentin: “Hoooooly fucking shit man, you scared the hell out of me. Don’t do that again,” he said with a smile.

Flint: “Hah, it’s hard ta get the jump on ya, so I’ll take what I can get haha. Anyways, I just wanted ta see how you’re doin’ after.. ya know.. the Spider ruinin’ our picnic and all.”

Quentin: “God, he pisses me off so bad... I’m not even completely sure why, either. Yeah, it’s annoying when he gets in the way, but I think... I think it’s that damn big mouth of his that gets me.”

Flint: “I know whatcha mean. D’ya know he once called me Flinto? Fuckin’ FLINTO. What the hell is that supposed ta mean? I wasn’t even offended. Just... confused...”

Quentin: “Well, I mean, I don’t LIKE being called ‘bowl-head’ very much, but I think it more has to do with his bullshit view on life. Like, I can respect it enough, but he seems to think it’s just SO easy to stay out of trouble. But the thing is, trouble grabs you, it sinks you in and you just can’t get out. Then everything is ruined and you’ll never be free again. So what if I came back to life? I still gotta finish this. No matter what. Maybe after that, we can all... rest, but I kinda doubt the world will let us. We’ll always be bad in their eyes. People just... don’t seem to get that anyone could be in our position... If things had just gone a little differently. It’s his... smug.. stupid naive ideals that just rub me wrong, I guess.”

Flint: “Well, jeez, I guess so... Look, I wuz just hopin’ you had a good time, is all. Soon, hopefully we can put all a’ this junk behind us, okay?”

Quentin: “Yeah.. tonight was good. No matter what. Thanks for.. sticking by me, Flint. It means a lot. Maybe... Maybe when everything is done, you can visit my sister’s place and your daughter can see my niece?”

Flint: “Yeah. I’d like that. Sounds like a plan, buddy.”

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

It was less than a week later that Peter was alerted by the police scanner. Numerous reports were flooding in of a certain fishbowl-man causing terror downtown. With a heavy hearted sigh, Peter leaped into action.

He was hoping, more than anything, that Beck could do away with this life of crime. He was a good person, deep down in there, or so Parker believed. Why was he so hellbent on helping the Sinister Six? So much so that he would risk it all again?

Peter swung building to building, closing in on the commotion. It was not hard to spot. Mysterio had conjured up a whole horde of demons and monsters to scare people away. His fear gas was driving people wild, having them panic and sprint blocks and blocks away. To his credit, Beck knew how to get people out of the way when he needed them to.

Parker was ready, this time. He had a gas mask on and had calibrated his lenses to better see through the hologram projections. Not perfect, but it would do.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Hey Mr. Fun House! Why aren’t you at the carnival where you belong? Can’t you see these people HATE your show?”

Neo Mysterio: “Always with the JOKES! Well, laugh THIS off!”

Mysterio shot at Peter with his hand lasers, hoping to knock the hero away. He could not afford this interruption right now. Spider-Man took the hit, but dodged the second barrage. It stung, but he could shake it off.

Spider-Man: “Hey! Fine! You want serious? Let’s get serious!”

Parker swung in and slugged Mysterio right across the helmet, sending them both clattering to the ground with a grunt of pain. They both quickly got to their feet and prepared to fight.

Spider-Man: “Stop this, Beck! Final chance! Stand down and tell me why you’re robbing Alchemax! What does Octavius want so bad?!”

Neo Mysterio: “I have nothing to say to you! I don’t owe you anything! Least of all my breath and time! Just leave me alone and everything will stop!”

Spider-Man: “Sorry, can’t let that happen, Mysty!”

Peter shot a web right past Mysterio, hitting a car. Yanking forward he launched himself at Mysterio, aiming to smash that bowl of his. The only thing was that Beck dodged at the last second, making Spider-Man land onto the car with an agile flip. When Peter turned around Quentin was already sprinting at him, ready to throw a haymaker punch.

Peter dodge to the left with a somersault, making Beck slam his right arm into steel. His carbonadium fist was imbedded within the vehicle, making him an easy target for Peter to kick.

Quentin blocked Peter’s foot with with his free arm. Parker was shocked at Mysterio’s raw strength. He suspected that he was in fact fighting a robot instead of the real deal. Why would Mysterio simply be in public? Wouldn’t he hide himself while his robots took the attention away from him?

Coming to this conclusion, Peter was done pulling his punches. When Mysterio freed himself from the side of the car, Peter slammed a lamppost against Beck’s head, thoroughly shattering his dome. People still nearby gasped as Quentin went clattering to the ground. Any human would surely have been killed by such a devastating blow.

With a groan, Beck got to his feet, his head bleeding from the shards of glass cutting him open.

Peter’s heart dropped at his mistake. How could he have screwed up so bad? He surely has a concussion, or worse, a hemorrhage in his brain from such a nasty impact. He could keel over dead at any minute. God, all that blood was pouring out of him, wasn’t it? Just like. Just like... 

Spider-Man: “Oh god, Quentin, you’re bleeding! Stop moving, we need to get you to a hospital!”

Neo Mysterio: “What I NEED is you to stop looking down on me, Spider-Man...”

Wiping the blood from his brow, Beck rushed at Spider-Man, not letting up. Parker did his best to fight back, but Quentin was inhumanly strong. Never had Peter known that he was holding back so much. The prototype super soldier serum was certainly no joke and Beck just had so much rage.

Spider-Man: “ENOUGH!!”

Parker threw a punch with all his might at Beck, a last desperate attempt to stop this fight, but Mysterio simply caught his fist. Caught a punch from Spider-Man, the guy who could lift a tank and who fought the Incredible Hulk. Peter was shocked.

Neo Mysterio: “I’ll be your punching bag no longer, Spider-Man! Today, YOU LOSE!!”

Quentin pulled his fist back and slammed Parker across the jaw, sending him face-first into the pavement. With a “shink!”, Beck unsheathed the blade on his wrist and held it an inch from Peter’s neck.

Neo Mysterio: “huff... huff... I win... Today, I win...”

As suddenly as Mysterio, attacked, he pulled away, sheathing his blade once more. Peter was rather confused. Most super villains aren’t in the business of sparing their foes.

Neo Mysterio: “I’m letting you go... I don’t wanna kill anyone... not you... you don’t deserve that... you’re just fighting me to protect others... I get it... but... If we ever battle again... and I beat you... I’ll let you go... Only if you promise to let me go and not follow me once I’m done... If you win? Well... then you capture me, it’s that simple.... but if I win? Then you just leave with your skin still attached.... deal?”

Peter was reeling. Still seeing stars from the blow that he was dealt. He was in no position to refuse. Mysterio was sparing him. He would just have to beat him next time. He didn’t like giving up. He never gave up. Peter was not going to give up now or ever. He would keep fighting. Today just wasn’t his day.

Spider-Man: “D-deal....”

Neo simply stared at him with cold eyes before vanishing in a puff of green smoke. The robot doubles that Peter was worried about were already done robbing the place 5 minutes ago, anyways. Quentin himself was the distraction this time. And now he was once more a wanted man. The cycle repeats once more.

Peter shakily got to his feet, helped a few citizens recover from the gas and commotion, then swung away. He had a lot to think about, and a lot of healing to do.

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

Beck went back to the base, prize in hand. His face was properly stitched up by Otto, along with a new serum that faded scars over time. He was exhausted in all ways imaginable, but he still had energy to do one last thing.

He compressed his armor into an under suit once more after fixing his helmet and teleported to a rooftop a few miles away, wearing a simple green sweater and soft dark jeans. He sat on the very edge of the roof, observing the sunset from his precarious vantage point. A matcha latte in one hand and his cellphone in another.

He called his sister.

                                     End of Funeral for a Magician

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

Thank you all so much for reading! It means a ton! I shall make a master post with links to all the chapters, along with a link to the playlist that accompanies this story!

As a bonus, there shall be some art to go with it from a special someone who I commissioned for this!

Have a wonderful week everyone, and thanks for sticking with me through this emotional roller coaster!!

-MS

[cozune]

Tagged

Tagged by @hobijuana​, thanks dude!

Tagging anyone.

last

drink: my family’s version of holy water, Vita Coco: Coconut Water

call: my dad

text: in a group chat- ”Why is my contact name Never Gonna Give You Up???” specifically

song you listened to: Fluorescent Adolescent by Arctic Monkeys

time you cried: 2 days ago. Then I had bread thrown at me and suddenly my productivity is up

have you ever

dated someone twice: Kind of?

kissed someone and regretted it: yeah.

been cheated on: nah

lost someone special: fortunately no

been depressed: wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwWWW

gotten drunk and thrown up: I don’t drink

favorite colors

1. aqua green

2. light pink (y’know. the liquitex basic color)

3. gray

in the last year have you

made any new friends: yep

fallen out of love: y e P

laughed so hard you cried: I have a meme folder. Yes.

found out someone was talking about you: nah. no one really knows I exist

met someone who changed you: tbh I’d like to say “yeah” but I’m blanking right now and I feel really bad about it--

found out who your friends were: yeah. it’s cool.

kissed someone in your fb friends list: no?? im not even on fb

general

how many ppl from ur fb friends do u know irl?: I’m not on fb so

do you have any pets?: the squirrel that lives in the tree next to my house and throws acorns at me for no fucking reason

do you want to change your middle name?: I don’t even have a middle name-

what did you do for your birthday last year?: I think I went to see a movie with my friends then promptly passed out

what time did you wake up today?: 4 AM. Because my brain hates me.

what were you doing last night at midnight?: Painting. it’s a terrible experience.

what’s something you can’t wait for?: to slam dunk my college portfolio into people’s faces and hope that one of them accepts me

what’re you listening to right now?: Africa covered by Ninja Sex Party

have you ever talked to a person named tom?: surprisingly, no

something that gets on your nerves: when people are dicks.

most visited website: youtube, gmail

hair color: really dark brown

short hair or long hair: short hair

do you have a crush on anyone: nah

what do you like about yourself?: u H M improv jokes, puns, and insults

want any piercings?: nah

blood type: B+

nicknames: Dingus, Gavin, Comrade

relationship status: single

zodiac sign: Virgo

pronouns: I stopped caring at this point

favorite show: currently summer camp island because it’s cute as fuck

tattoos: none

right or left handed: right handed

every had surgery: yeah because I was stupid

piercings: i have clip on princess earrings from my sister’s princess dress up kit

sports: bold of you to assume i can do things

vacation: somewhere scenic is ideal. like. give me stuff to draw.

trainers: what does this mean

more general

eating: chinese food

drinking: again, Vita Coco: Coconut Water

about to watch: how people set up their college portfolios and Dramaturgy by Eve

waiting for: Friday. I want to go to the museum.

get married: lmao nah

career: wwwwww computer graphics/animator for film or video games

which is better

hugs or kisses?: either though it depends on the day

lips or eyes?: eyes

shorter or taller?: taller. almost everyone I know is taller than me so I have no choice.

younger or older?: older?? idk

nice arms or stomach?: arm

hookup or relationship?: my ace heart is palpitating at an alarming rate. just give me a healthy connection with someone

troublemaker or hesitant?: high key troublemaker but we don’t talk about that

have you ever

kissed a stranger: nah

drank hard liquor: I don’t drink

lost glasses: once then I stepped on them-

turned someone down: yeah. when I don’t want to go out but my active friends want to frolic in the fields or something--

had sex on the first date: my virgin ace heart is palpitating

broken someone’s heart: i don’t know. it’s kind of hard to say.

had your heart broken: nah

been arrested: close. but no.

cried when someone died: yeah

fallen for a friend: nah? maybe once?

do you believe in

yourself: depends on how ballsy I’m feeling a particular day. but it usually is at an eh

miracles: no

love at first sight: my ace heart is palpitating

santa: no. my parents didn’t even try to hide it. literally the present from santa was in my mom’s handwriting and my dad went down at 2 AM to eat the cookies-

kiss on the first date: sure??

angels: no?

other

best friend’s name: computer, bean, bih, comrade (don’t wanna put their actual names so nicknames)

eye color: brown

favorite movie: mmmmmm Tokyo Godfathers fucking amazing movie. Either that or The Man from UNCLE, Ex Machina, or Grave of the Fireflies

favorite actor: James McAvoy

[creative-frequency]

SFW Nyx x Fem!Reader: I Want to Die in a Ditch

Word count: 3711 Warnings: SFW, drunkenness, mild cursing   Pairing: Nyx Ulric x Female Reader Notes: This happened when we were having a laugh about Nyx and drunk texting and how he would use the word “bitch” when he is super drunk.

Thanks @bleucommelhiver​ for the inspiration, ideas and beta-read ;)

Nyx Ulric was only a bit more than a casual acquaintance to you. Sure, you met at the bar sometimes. You had even traded numbers and smiles. You just never really got to talk with him. Your lives were too different to collide outside the nightlife of Insomnia.

Tonight was one of those nights when your eyes met from opposite ends of the bar. You traded smiles with small nods of acknowledgement. You were delighted every time you saw Nyx, which was a lot less often than you’d liked. In the back of your mind you wondered why you still hadn’t found the courage to text him. Nyx seemed like a nice guy and his looks made you sneer at every other man at the bar.

By the time you reached your apartment, alone and ready to call it a night, you once again scolded yourself for not approaching Nyx.

Then your phone beeped happily.

You reached out to see who the sender was and almost dropped the device.

Nyx WADDUP BITCHH

At the other end, Nyx was staring at his phone screen. He was completely smashed after the night at the bar and had thought of asking how Libertus was doing since the man had not participated in the frolics.

This was it. This was how he would leave the face of Eos. Death by shame – the worst kind of shame of sending an accidental derogatory text to his crush.

You, on the other hand, were holding your ribs in the fit of booming laughter that echoed in your apartment. Nyx certainly was something else. But all jokes aside, you were pretty sure it was an unintentional text message from him.

While you were writing a reply, Nyx had to sit down. Oh, he had fucked up majorly. How was it possible that the one truly interesting woman he had met in all his time in Insomnia would be scared away from him like this. He shook his head and ran his palm across him face. Then his phone buzzed.

With shaky hands, he read your message.

The cute one Not muuuuuch biiiiitch. You?

Nyx laughed aloud. He had never been this relieved in his life. Not even the one time he had thought he had actually died on the battlefield, but instead woke up in the infirmary.

“Thank you, Astrals, thank you,” he repeated, while typing.

Nyx SORRY wrong number;;; Had a good time today… You?

The cute one Haha it’s okay. Me too, it’s been awhile ^^

Nyx Yeah, I’ve missed seeing your smile

Your cheeks felt hot and you grinned widely, staring at your phone. What a smooth talker.

Nyx Sorry if that’s weird But you’re cute Like Really cute

The cute one Wow you must be drunk (σ≧▽≦)σ thanks

Nyx Okay I’ll shut up now

The cute one Lol dw. You’re making me blush

Nyx Wanna talk?

The cute one Sure?

You expected him to text you again, but as you began brushing your teeth, you were startled by the ringing of your phone – Nyx’s name shone brightly on your screen.

“Hold on a sec,” you said with your mouth full of toothpaste. You placed the phone on the toilet lid and finished brushing your teeth quickly.

“Hey. What’s up?” you asked way more casually than you were feeling. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, practically shaking your whole body.

“Hey, Y/N… I just don’t like texting,” Nyx said. His tone was careful. He didn’t want to bother your or sound too eager to be finally talking with you.

“Oh, that’s… okay. So what did you want to talk about?” You navigated to your bedroom and flopped on the bed while speaking.

“It was nice to see you at the club.” Nyx’s voice sounded pleasant in your ears and his words made your heart thump louder.

You let out an airy laugh. “You too, Nyx. But I was a bit disappointed I didn’t see you on the dancefloor this time.”

You could hear the smirk in Nyx’s voice as he spoke: “Well, remind me to put on a show for you next time.”

“Oh? I’d like that,” you purred. No way you would’ve spoken to him in that tone without the several doses of alcohol in your system.

But apparently you were nowhere near as drunk as Nyx was.

“By the way, I saw you last week by the central station,” he said happily, as if he had a huge secret he had been waiting to reveal.

“Hm, really? Why didn’t you come say hi?” you asked, wondering what else you could’ve been for at the station except commuting.

“I was going to, but I didn’t want to interrupt since you already had company. You seemed to get along pretty well with him,” Nyx said slyly.

His teasing tone made you even more confused. Him? Who on Eos–

Then it dawned on you. You sighed audibly and Nyx chuckled at your exasperation.

“You saw me with that dog?” The vivid memories of what you had babbled to the golden retriever in a weak moment rushed into your mind. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Great. It just had to happen so that Nyx would see you.

“You were just so damn cute… I felt like a stalker”–you burst into very un-ladylike laughter–“Sorry, I felt like I needed to confess.” Nyx laughed nervously.

“Pffft – and next you’re probably gonna say you wanted to be that dog?” you inquired, stifling the giggles trying break past your lips.

“Well if that’s the kind of thing you’re into–“

“Sounds like someone had a one drink too much,” you noted.

Nyx snorted in amusement. “Nah, it’s just you.”

You smiled. “Is that so?”

“Sure. I mean, I make these confessions to pretty women on daily basis. Need to get that stuff off my chest, y’know?” Nyx deadpanned. His tone gave away just how smashed he really was.

“Hm. Maybe I should do some confessions too, then…” you cooed. A beam was plastered on your face and your heart was jumping around in much faster pace than you would’ve liked. You had no idea what you were trying to achieve, but your intoxicated brain thought it was a great idea.

“Shall I rate it for you on scale to ‘that’s common knowledge’ to ‘you’re gonna want to die in a ditch tomorrow’?” Nyx suggested and chuckled at his own words.

“Sounds exciting! Okay, let me think…” You hummed and clasped your lower lip with your teeth. Nyx was obviously too hammered to remember anything of your conversation on the following day. Or at least you hoped so.

Okay. What did you have to lose?

“Well… I like your hands. They’re so nimble.” You could barely keep a straight face and were extremely sure that would come off in your voice too. Good thing Nyx was as drunk as a skunk.

“Aww, well that’s not so bad. A bit weird though,” he said and laughed nonchalantly.

“Your turn,” you urged, eager to hear what he had hidden in his sleeve.

“But I already told you that you’re cute and pretty, which makes two things. Unless, you count that pet play thing as one, which I don’t mind, but uhh–“

“Alright, alright!” you hurried to interrupt him and tried to think of something else.

“…I’m waiting, princess,” Nyx pressed eagerly.

A warm feeling coiled inside you. Had he just… given you a nickname? And not a bad one at all.

“…Princess?” you asked cautiously, but your curiosity was shining through.

Nyx’s hand flew into the back of his neck. Luckily, you couldn’t see it. The word had just slipped through and oh god was he embarrassed now. Good thing that playing it cool was his special area of expertise.

“Don’t try to change the subject. I’m still waiting,” he reminded you with a smirk, although a bit nervous one, evident in his voice.

“Uh, okay so, I’m really curious about your tattoos…” you confessed, thinking that it was now too late to take it back anymore.

Nyx blinked utterly bemused. “My tattoos? What about them?”

You were grinding your teeth. “Like how many you have and where.” As best as you tried to keep the implied seduction away from your tone, you couldn’t help Nyx catching it nevertheless. Or maybe you didn’t really try.

“Oh wow, that definitely goes in the ditch-category. That’s bold,” he said and laughed to his heart’s content. His words had started to slur more and more, making you wonder how long he would be able to stay up anymore. Preferably not long enough for you to make a complete fool out of yourself.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you snarled despite knowing that it was a vain effort. The sweet blush of embarrassment decorated your cheeks.

“Tell you what,” Nyx babbled. He was barely making sense and it sounded like he was already lying down, about to zonk.

“What?” you asked amused.

“I’m gonna take you on a date. Is that okay? Like a real date, with all the romantic shit.” His voice was very uneven, most words coming out as a blur.

You laughed – surprised, but complacent. An incredulous smile set on your lips. “Yes, Nyx. I’d love to go on a date with you with all the romantic shit.”

“Really? Okay, cool!” He was getting all excited again and you felt like he was fighting the sleep just to talk to you.

“Now that it’s settled, maybe you should go to bed, Nyx,” you suggested. Your smile had widened even more.

On that note, Nyx yawned. “I will soon, princess. Let me just tell you one last thing.”

“What is it?”

“You have a great ass.”

You huffed in amusement, holding back an unladylike, drunken giggle-snort. “Thanks, Nyx. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Nyx replied sleepily.

You nibbled at your lower lip and ended the call, placing your phone on the nightstand. While the banter with Nyx had been fun, you weren’t certain that he would still be so eager to act on his words the next day. He had been so out of it that he probably wouldn’t even remember your chat. Still, the things Nyx had said, or rather, confessed to you, glued a permanent silly smile on your face.

You had slipped some pretty embarrassing stuff too in your drunken state with lowered inhibitions. Or maybe you just had been so comfortable talking with Nyx. You were too tired and woozy to care in that moment.

But he had asked you out. Even as drunk as he had been, it had to count for something, right?

The following day while you were tending to your slight headache and nausea, your phone rang again. The caller was none other than the hero of the glaives, which really wasn’t that surprising.

“Good morning,” you said and yawned extensively.

“Hey, sorry to bore you so early in the morning…” Nyx quipped. He was pleased and relieved that you had picked up and it made you smile too.

“Sorry, long night. This guy just wouldn’t stop talking on the phone.”

“Oh, what a douche. You want me to teach him a lesson?”

“I have something in mind, thanks. So what’s up?”

“Yeah, so about the date…” he began.

Your heart stopped and you buried your face into your palm. Of course he did remember.

“…Are you okay? Y/N?” Nyx sounded worried at your lack of verbal response. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, taking a look around to make sure no one was within hearing range. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up again.

“Yes, I’m here– I just…”–you sighed–“never mind. What about it?”

“You still remember, right?” Nyx confirmed warily. He felt awkward, which was a rare sensation for him.

“Yeah… I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t,” you said and bit your lip.

In the moment’s pause, Nyx swallowed. Shit.

“Ah, well, sorry to bother you–“

“No! I mean– I didn’t mean it that way!” you hurried to explain and cursed the lack of facial expressions and body language in phone calls. Okay, maybe you should’ve tried to sound happier, but you were still stunned about just talking with him.

Nyx was stupefied at your sudden outburst. “So uh, how–“

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t remember all those things I said to you, since I’m really in the ‘I want to die in a ditch’-mood,” you said, internally groaning at hearing the words flow out of your mouth.

Much to your relief, Nyx let out a liberated, throaty chuckle.

“How about next Saturday?” he asked.

You inhaled sharply. The worst had happened and he still wanted to go on a date with you? You had been certain he had called to make sure you had taken the invitation as a joke. Or to make sure you knew he hadn’t been serious.

Apparently, you had never been so wrong.

“Sounds good!” you wheezed.

“Nice! I’ll see what romantic shit I can whip up and text you later, okay?” Nyx said utterly pleased by your reaction. He pumped his fist in the air.

“Romantic shit it is,” you repeated both relieved and excited.

You were going on a date. A real date. With Nyx Ulric. This would require very careful planning regards to your outfit and strategic approach. You didn’t want to come off as too pushy, but you weren’t exactly shy either. Too bad you had no way of knowing that your planning would be wasted.

As Saturday drew closer, you had all your preparations done to the extent of your nail polish color and three different outfits planned to suit the potential weather and mood of the day.

Unfortunately, your boss called you an hour before your hot date with Nyx.

You had never been one to curse like a sailor, but for this occasion to be ruined so comprehensively, you let out all your emotions in the form of expletives.

The cute one Sorry, I was called to work… Rain check? >o<;;

You didn’t have time to wait for Nyx’s response as you hurried on your way to the office. By the time you reached your desk, he had replied to you.

Nyx Ok, dw. Everything okay?

The cute one Someone fucked up, someone got fired. Need to do damage control. Urgh

Nyx Oh shit. Is it serious?

The cute one Not serious enough for Saturday overtime

Nyx Where is your office?

With furrowed brows, you replied to Nyx, but he didn’t text back anymore.

You didn’t have time to dwell on your ruined date, though it stung a bit when your colleague asked what the occasion for such a nice outfit was. You hadn’t really felt like changing after dolling up. You toiled at work as if there was no tomorrow, while half-thinking how to set up a new date with Nyx. The ball was in your court now, so you had to make the next move.

Few hours went quickly by in the newfound chaos of your workplace. You really needed your supervisor’s approval before sending some documents forward, so you looked around for your boss – and found her, to your shock, with a very familiar face. You couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Nyx looked really serious.

You spied on them from afar, trying to figure out what was going on. Had something happened? Why would Nyx come to your workplace? You hovered still with the stack of freshly printed papers in your hand.

You almost went over to see what was going on, but decided against it since Nyx was obviously here on business, wearing his Kingsglaive gear and all.

As you let your eyes glide appreciatively over his form, he turned and caught you staring. Immediately, he said something to your boss with a nod and started walking towards you with a purpose in his step.

You took a wary glance – everyone had paused whatever they had been doing and were now staring at the handsome Kingsglaive soldier making a beeline to you.

Then you saw him up close enough to tell what was going on. That smug bastard.

“Miss, I’m gonna need you to come with me,” Nyx said sternly. His serious demeanor had fooled you too for a second there, but you caught the smirk making the corner of his mouth twitch. He was trying so hard to keep his expression controlled.

Obviously, he wasn’t here on official business. He was here just to mess with you.

You groaned. Sure, you were glad to see him. He looked ridiculously hot in his Kingsglaive garb. But now was not really the time.

“Really? I have work–” You tried to keep your voice down, but it was a vain effort since every coworker of yours was listening very intently, trying to catch wind of what would become the talk of the day in the coffee room.

“I’m afraid this can’t wait,” Nyx cut you short. He tried to flash you a meaningful look. The twitching of the corner of his mouth got so bad that he had to bite his lower lip.

Oh, damn why he looked so handsome. You had never before had the pleasure of witnessing him this close in his uniform.

“…Fine.” You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh.

Was this really worth the fact that you would have to come up with a really, really good explanation for your boss? You definitely hoped so. And if it wouldn’t be worth it, you wouldn’t rest until you having your revenge on Nyx Ulric.

“Everyone, please calm down. Official Kingsglaive business,” Nyx said aloud, making your coworkers scatter to whispers amongst themselves.

You got your bag as fast as you could, trying make the situation be over as soon as possible.

“What do you think you’re doing, pray tell?” you hissed while it was safe to ask.

“Saving you from overtime,” Nyx whispered back, hand almost touching your back as he guided you towards the exit.

What followed was the most perfect movie and dinner -date you had ever had the pleasure to partake in. If you had to find a minor fault, it was the fact that Nyx had still his Kingsglaive outfit on him, but in second thought, he looked so hot in it that you really didn’t mind. Except for all the more or less sultry looks he was getting.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, hand in his as it had been for the majority of the evening. Your abrupt, or rather, reclaimed day off had been most welcome distraction from all the stress and pressure at work. The next day at the office would be hell, but you didn’t want to think about that yet.

Your evening with Nyx wasn’t over yet and hopefully wouldn’t be until a few more hours.

“There’s this one place I was thinking we could still go to,” Nyx said mysteriously and flashed a charming grin at you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “’This one place’? Care to elaborate?” you quipped back.

Nyx just chuckled and smiled.

He led you to the Citadel in the heart of Insomnia and casually greeted the guards standing in form at the entrance. You looked around nervously, absolutely puzzled at what he had in mind. You had only been inside the Citadel for a tour on the sixth grade and barely had any memories of it.

Nyx, however, seemed to know his way around the building. He also greeted everyone.

“Where are we going?” you asked again, head turning wildly to look around. You had vague memories of the dark marble and golden decorations in the hallways.

“I was thinking of warping with you to the top, but it might not be the most romantic thing to have you puke on the first date so… The elevator is this way,” Nyx smirked and motioned forward to the corridor.

You huffed in amusement and took his offered hand again once again.

After the elevator ride you had to climb a set of stairs to reach the roof of the Citadel.

The view was breathtaking. The stars, that couldn’t be seen well from the streets below because of the light pollution, were littering brightly the velvety black sky. The Wall’s pale blue hue reflected the lights of the city, billowing slowly like it was breathing. Insomnia spread out into every direction all the way to the horizon. You could almost forget how high you were.

Nyx guided you next to the edge and you sat down, leaning your hands to the surface of the roof to look up. You felt so tiny under the night sky.

“Well? Is this romantic enough for you, princess?” Nyx inquired while he was gazing at you instead of the stars.

“There’s just one thing missing,” you noted slowly.

Nyx creased his brows momentarily while thinking what you had meant. “What’s that?”

You straightened up to look into his eyes, smiling slyly. “The hand holding is nice, don’t get me wrong, but…”

You took his hand and intertwined your fingers, trying to convey your meaning with a smile.

“But?” Nyx urged.

“Are you gonna stop being a gentleman soon and kiss me or what?”

Nyx blinked. “Ki–? Oh.”

He let out a soft chuckle and gently cupped your cheek to pull you closer. You laid your hand on his shoulder. Your noses brushed together and you inhaled his scent, waiting for the touch on your lips.

“You think I’m too much of a gentleman?” Nyx husked teasingly with a half-smile. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone.

“Shut up and–“ Your sentence finished with a content hum as he pressed his lips on yours in a gentle kiss.

He was a better kisser than you had anticipated and you eagerly leaned in closer.

The kiss ended too soon and left you wanting for more. Nyx’s eyes were twinkling as he looked at you, still impossibly close and his hand under your chin.

“Does that satisfy you, princess?” he asked playfully.

“Mm. Need a few more to be sure,” you replied and bit your lip.

“We have all night,” Nyx chuckled and gently pulled your chin into another kiss.

[shazyloren]

The Dragon Club: Chapter 43 - Surprise and Subtlety

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12018519/chapters/

-----------

Greece was hot. The air was sticky and so were Jon's clothes. Mykonos was experiencing 38 degree heat today, their first day in the country and Jon's signature look of constant black clothes was not ideal in this weather. They were currently all emptying their suitcases in their appropriate rooms before heading down to the bar for a few drinks and then having dinner and watching the evenings entertainment.

Jon's room was big, but lonely for a change. He'd been so used to sleeping with Daenerys by his side that he had almost forgot what it was like to sleep in a bed all by himself. Of course, recently he'd done it a lot thanks to Daario. Who was he kidding? It wasn't Daario's fault, and knowing that Daenerys had only been trying to dissolve the tension that was rising because she knew he could be the bigger man was a relief.

They both could've not agreed to it but it was the only idea they had. And now Jon regretted agreeing to it, he missed her so much. Especially now in the large and empty room. He'd seen her tweet on twitter, she'd missed him. And he'd tweeted I miss you too, not tagging her in it. But it was still obvious and people had gone crazy cooing over it online.

If they only knew that someone was trying to tear them apart, they'd all help them track whoever it was down. Jon bet some of them would be good at it too. But unfortunately, this was a ight they had to deal with on their own, or preferably the police if needs be. Jon pushed Daenerys to the back of his mind for the time being (or tried to, he was alway thinking of her really) and began to get ready for the beach. He packed the sunscreen on his skin, knowing how easily he burns.  

"Yo, idiot" Arya entered the room as Jon finished putting his shirt on. "Boy you are pasty, you need a tan"

"I don't tan I burn" Jon moaned.

"Hence the sun screen overload?" Arya laughed. Jon just rolled his eyes. "Anyways, you ready?"

Jon nodded. He knew this holiday he needed to keep an eye on Arya, she was a sucker for cocktails and considering her size was small she got drunk very easily. He followed her out and locked his room, his flip flops flapping in the hall. Sansa and MArgaery were looking like they'd just come straight from the runway and were in floral swimsuits with hats, jewellery and jean shorts. Everyone gather, Robb and Talisa were the last to be ready, their first time away from Baby Lyanna who was with Talisa's mother.

The lift was sticky, they all huddled in and the air was close. Even with aircon, nothing could be done about today's horrendous heat. It was so different than to the heat of King's Landing, Jon thought. Far more humid. King's landing's blue waters and dry air meant it was liveable. This, was being slow roasted Jon felt. Although the weather as suppose to cool to a respectable 30 degree heat for the rest of the week.

They arrived to the lobby with Bran and Meera talking about the conspiracy of the earth being flat as they saw the horizon come through the big bay windows. Jon had to give props to Meera, she was such a loving girlfriend for Bran. She put up with so much of his shit. Strange boy, he was. They reached the beach front and Jon was thankful there was shade under a bunch of palm trees.

He made for them immediately where all the girls and Gendry made to frolic in the water of the ocean front. Ned and Catelyn got some cocktails for everyone at the beach bar. The water looked inviting, but Jon was happy in his shade reading his book. Ned brought him a cosmopolitan and a guinness to choose from, he took the guinness.

After a while, the girls and Gendry came out of the water, it was then Jon noticed something strange. Arya had always been a stick thin girl. But as she got out of the ocean he thought she looked a slightly different shape (which was fine, he wasn't judging). He watched her intently as Catelyn handed her a cocktail. She smiled meekly but she did not drink it.

No.

She couldn't be?

He raised an eyebrow at her as she caught his eye. She smiles back, not catching that he'd caught on. He beamed his biggest smile at her. She just scrunched her face up confused. He tilted his head towards her stomach. She went bright red and slightly nodded her head. Jon felt elated.

No one else had said anything, they hadn't seen this little interaction. Even Gendry was enjoying a joke with Robb. Jon wanted to leap into the air. He wanted her to tell them, they'd all be so happy. She motioned for him to follow her to the bar, so he managed to slip away without anyone noticing. When they were out of ear distance Jon gushed.

"Are you really?!" He asked in a shouty whisper.

"Yes" She blushed real red, perhaps the sun catching her already. "But don't tell everyone"

"Why won't you tell them?"

"Well, um, you see, I haven't, well I've not-"

"Please don't tell me you haven't told Gendry" Jon sighed.

"No I haven't"

"Oh Arya" Jon rubbed his head.

"We weren't suppose to have one yet, not until we were both thirty and had got another gym to our business" She was having a full on panic now. "And now a person is going to come out my foofoo" Jon cringed slightly at her choice of name. "And I've somehow got to tell Gendry that the second Gym to our franchise is going to have to wait because we've got to pour all our savings into our child"

"Easy now, relax" Jon said pulling her into a reassuring hug. "It's like ripping off the bandaid. Remember Rachel telling ross; it will never be as bad as that!" Jon rocked her a little as she had a few tears coming out of her face. "Do it, or Sansa's going to steal your thunder!"

"Sansa? Why?" Arya said confused, looking up at her brother's face.

"She and Margaery are officially moving in; they haven't told Dad and Cat yet, obvious reasons" Jon shrugged.

"She didn't tell me!" Arya said pissed.

"She only told me this morning, don't stress about it you're still her fav sibling, calm down" Jon laughed. Arya just sighed. "Do it, tell him now, in front of everyone. All in one"

"You're crazy without Daenerys, you know that?" Arya laughed. "She keeps you in check. You're a right weirdo when she'd not there"

"Well it takes one to know one" Jon smirked. Arya just huffed and made her way back to the group with Jon. He sat back on his seat after shoving Robb off who'd nicked it and carried on drinking his drink. She didn't say anything straight away, she waited ten minutes or so before there was a break in conversation, she striked. Jon was excited for everyone to know.

"Guys, I... er, have something I wanna say" Arya said getting everybody's attention. Gendry smirked, Jon noticed. Uh-oh, abort mission. Abort. Jon thinks he knows. Oh dear this could be messy. "Gendry, I'm pregnant" There was wails from everybody except him. He just had a large smile on his face. Arya was unnerved by his reaction. "Did you hear me?"

"I heard" He smiled. "I knew"

"You knew? How?" Arya was grumpy now. It wasn't such a big deal, and she'd missed the chance to tell him herself. "I was very discreet!"

"Not really, I found your pregnancy test in the bathroom rubbish can. And then you've not had a drink in four weeks and you've been of mayonnaise and eggs. You screwed your nose up at Gammon which is usually your favourite. I'm not as dense as you might think I am"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Arya was confused, that meant she could blow off like a rocket at any moment with rage. "I've  been so worried on how you'd react, inner turmoil I'm talking here, and you've said nothing!"

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready" He shrugged. "I didn't mind; you're a stubborn cow sometimes so I just decided to let you tell me when you wanted"

"Okay time out" Sansa spoke. "Do we get to give our congratulations yet?"

Arya nodded, tears flowed from everyone at this time. Cately looked as if she'd just received the greatest news she'd ever heard in her life, of course Grandchild number one wouldn't be too pleased about that. But it was something different with Arya. A lot of the clan, Jon included, didn't think she'd ever end up having children. Then she met Gendry and everything changed.

"It's going to be a girl!" Rickon said.

"Nah, a boy I think" Bran nodded.

"Want to bet?" Rickon argued.

"Save your money, Ricky. It wouldn't be right taking so much of your pocket money from you"

Jon thought about Daenerys, she'd be over the moon to hear Jon was going to be an uncle again. He suddenly wondered if she'd ever dreamt of having kids of her own, Jon had always wanted a whole bunch of them, but it was still years away for him. Even if he ended up with Dany like he wished, it would be her decision at the end of the day. Jon then chastised himself for thinking about not just her but something so silly as having kids with her.

He hoped, maybe one day when the shit is all said and done.

[meowloudly15]

Stranded: Day 8 - PRIVATE SHED

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At around five in the evening, Gwen, Peter B., and Miles finally found Mrs. Parker's house. At least, it was somewhere on this street. They kept walking, looking for the house number.

"Where exactly are we going again?" asked Miles.

"To Peter's aunt's house," replied Gwen.

Peter B. blinked. "Wait, what?"

She had figured he would have recognised the address.

"She offered to help all us spider-people, if I remember correctly. She'd probably point us in the right direction."

"No, no, this is a bad idea. I can't talk to her. No." Peter B. stopped moving.

"C'mon, man, don't you wanna get a new goober?" asked Miles.

"Oh for crying out loud, couldn't we go anywhere else but-"

"Nope," interrupted Gwen. "Oh, look, that's it. That's definitely the place."

Gwen and Miles stopped in front of a small two-story house with pale green siding. The front lawn was practically buried under tributes to Spiderman. Peter B. still stood several paces behind them.

"C'mon, Peter," said Miles.

Peter B. relented and walked over. He shot a webline at the doorbell and exhaled.

"We.. should probably go."

"We're literally right here," said Gwen.

Peter B. paused. "Nope, bad idea, bad idea, let's go." He turned and walked away. Gwen shot a webline and dragged him back in front of the door.

RELATIVE CHAOS

"You guys are so sweet, but no more fans today, please," said Mrs. Parker as she opened the door.

Why was she holding a baseball bat?

Well, she wasn't any longer. Mrs. Parker's eyes bugged out and she dropped the bat as soon as she saw Peter B. Gwen clenched and unclenched her teeth.

"Peter?"

Mrs. Parker walked over to Peter B. She looked like she had seen a ghost. For all intents and purposes, she had. Her real nephew was gone.

"Hey, Aunt May." All the tension in Peter B.'s body disappeared as his doppelganger's aunt (or was it his aunt's doppelganger?) laid a hand on his chest.

Gwen wanted to say, "It's not him. It's not your Peter. I'm sorry. I get it. But don't look at him the same way. I'm trying my hardest not to." But she stayed silent.

She looked back over at Peter B. He looked so much like her own Peter… he had the same face, the same eager grin when he talked about technology, a similar stance. But it wasn't the same. He was too well-built. He was too old. He was too jaded. But hadn't Peter become jaded in the end?

It didn't stop hurting, even after two years, no matter how much she shoved aside the pain. She couldn't imagine what was going on in Peter B.'s and Mrs. Parker's heads, although she thought she understood.

"This is gonna sound nuts," said Peter B., "but I'm from-"

"An alternate dimension," finished Mrs. Parker.

How did she know about that?

"You look tired, Peter."

"I am."

"And older. And… thicker." She furrowed her brow in displeasure. "Jeez, are those sweatpants?"

Gwen replied, "Yup. They're sweatpants, all right."

Why did her voice sound so much weaker than it should have? Was it sympathy? She felt like she should laugh, but she didn't.

"I was there when… it happened. I'm so sorry, Mrs. Parker," said Miles.

"What dimension are you from?" she asked.

"Brooklyn," he replied without hesitation. "Uh, do you know where we could make another one of these?" He handed Mrs. Parker the flash drive.

"A goober."

Was everyone except for Gwen some type of nutso?

Mrs. Parker's face hardened. "Follow me."

PRIVATE SHED

Mrs. Parker led the spiders through her rather nice house and out to a shed in the backyard. She strode with a purpose.

A shed? What the heck? Also, why did she kick open the screen door? Was it stuck or something? Or was she making a concerted effort to be dramatic?

Gwen felt a knot of unease build in her gut. Was it a trap? It had better not be one, especially given that her webshooters were acting up.

It was a decent backyard, though. Small but quaint. Not much snow had fallen over here.

Peter B. started to needlessly blather on. "Yeah, I got a shed where I keep all my spider gear, too."

Mrs. Parker pulled a key out of her pocket and inserted it into the padlock on the shed door. The padlock shone with red light, and the shed door slid open, revealing a sleek, glowing red-and-white interior. It looked like an elevator shaft. With a smirk, she gestured for them to enter.

Okay, this had better not be a trap.

The spiders walked into the elevator, and it slid down, revealing a cavernous, red-floored space below, filled with what looked like spider-paraphernalia.

"Okay, this place is pretentious," said Peter B.

Gwen could barely contain her excitement. This was possibly the coolest thing she'd ever seen. There was a motorcycle! A spider-themed motorcycle! And a wall of costumes, and maps of the city, and dossiers on a whole bunch of supervillains, some of whom she didn't even recognise, and, like, a lot of stuff!

Miles asked, "Woah, is your place anything like this?"

Peter B. replied, "Yeah, but way smaller. Take away the jeep. Imagine a futon. Just like this, you know?"

Gwen walked over to admire the motorcycle. It was red, with blue wheel rims and a lot of metallic accents. It looked like a souped-up Harley. She felt a strong surge of jealousy. She wanted to learn how to ride a motorbike. Had Spider-Pete known how? How did he get all this stuff?

What was that picture Peter B. was looking at? Whatever it was, he looked sad. Maybe it was Em Jay? Was that his ex-wife?

"Hey, this looks like a cape," said Miles, gesturing to one of the spider-costumes. His tone of voice gave the impression that he was referencing an inside joke.

Peter B.'s frown faded away.

It was kind of Miles to make his friend feel better like that. He was a nice guy.

LINCH KING

Something else caught Gwen's attention: a posterboard with an aptly large picture of the giant dude that she had seen. He was at the centre of the display, and all the other people in it seemed to be connected to him. She walked over to it. The giant guy's name was Wilson Fisk, otherwise known as Kingpin. That made a surprising amount of sense, considering what her spider-sense had said. The people pinned to him included Liv, a guy with white hair and grey skin, a purple-and-black guy with an upturned collar on his cape, and some sleazy-looking dude with purple skin. It was funny how the pins connected everything.

The other three people walked over to her. "Kingpin knows we're coming," said Miles. "We're gonna be outnumbered."

"Don't be so sure," said Mrs. Parker with a smirk.

LIKE YOU

Gwen looked up into the shadowy blackness above. There were three, no, four figures there. They all looked very different.

"Hey, fellas," said a tall guy wearing a black trenchcoat and fedora. His face was covered by a mask with weird white goggles. His trenchcoat whipped around in some nonexistent wind.

"Is he in black-and-white?" muttered Miles.

"Where's that wind coming from? We're underground," remarked Peter B.

"Wherever I go, the wind follows. And the wind smells like rain."

Okay, that was odd. This dude looked like he had been pulled from the pages of a cheap detective novel.

She redirected her attention to… a ten-year-old girl sitting on top of a red-and-black robot. The girl looked like she had been yanked out of an anime show.

"Hi guys! Konichiwa!" The girl proceeded to say some other indiscernible stuff in Japanese while she did some funky anime poses with her robot. The robot looked pretty neat.

"This could literally not get any weirder," said Peter B.

"It can get weirder!" said… holy cuss word. It was an anthropomorphic pig, like something from Tuney Loons, dressed in a Spiderman costume. Gwen rubbed her eyes. The pig was still there, and his hands were covered with water.

"I just washed my hands. That's why they're wet. No other reason."

LIKE YOU

Gwen looked at the group of oddball spider-people. Because that was what they were, right? They had spider-powers, just like she did. They might have been a bit… different from her and from Miles and Peter B., but they were like her. She smiled. It was strange how she felt that much less alone right now.

"You're like me," said everyone simultaneously.

"Okay, now, why don't you all introduce yourselves?" Mrs. Parker requested.

Everybody started talking simultaneously. Gwen tried her best to make herself heard.

"My name is Peter Parker."

"I'm Peter B. Parker."

"Uh, I'm Miles, and I'm from Brooklyn."

"I'm Peter Porker, the Amazing Spider-Ham!"

"My name's Gwen Stacy."

"My name is Peni Parker, and this is my robot, Sp/dr!"

"I was bitten by a spider that came out of some totem in an antique store."

"I was bitten by a radioactive pig!"

"I was bitten by a radioactive… wait, what?"

"I got bitten by some weird-looking spider in a subway tunnel."

"I was bitten by a spider on a field trip."

"Uh, same here."

"I'm from New York in the year 3145."

"I'm… from Brooklyn."

"In my world, it's 1933, and I'm a private eye."

"I'm a junior in highschool in Connecticut City."

"I'm a reporter for the Daily Beagle. It's headquartered in Moo York."

"I, uh… what's my job again? Do I still have one?"

"I play drums in a band, but other than that, I don't do that much."

"I like making graffiti art, and I used to play baseball."

"I like to drink egg creams, and I love punching Nazis."

"I have a psychic link with the spider that lives in my father's robot. We're best friends forever!"

"I frolic and I prance and I do this with my pants and I-"

"Okay, okay, that's enough," said Peter B., waving his hands. "How did you get here?"

Black Spidey – no, that sounded wrong. Greyscale Spidey replied, "It's kind of a long story."

"We basically just landed here," said Spider-Ham.

"Okay, maybe not that long."

Peni said, "Now, we're just trying to get back home."

"The only way back is through the collider gizmo," said Greyscale Spidey. Jeez, that was a cumbersome name. What about… what was that genre with the dark backdrops and private eyes and stuff? Film noir. That was it. She could call him Noir.

"The problem is, one of us has to stay behind and destroy it," added Ham.

Of course, that was the issue. Sacrifices always had to be made. The good thing was, the decision was simple. Gwen was already a ghost. She raised her hand, not expecting to be contested.

"I'll do it," she said. Noir, Ham, Peter B., and Peni also said it simultaneously.

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

Gwen glitched out and hit the floor. So did the other spiders, except for Miles, who watched with concern.

"That's exactly it," said Miles. "You guys can't do it. If you stay here, you'll all die. I'm gonna shut off the collider, and I'll get you all home before I do it. I made a promise."

He sounded awfully confident in his abilities for a kid who had only gotten his powers two days ago.

Gwen and the other spiders stood up.

"Who are you again?" asked Noir.

Peter B. grinned. "This is Miles, and he's gonna save the multiverse."

A guy who's been Spiderman for 22 years should honestly know better than to put so much faith on the shoulders of such an inexperienced kid.

Miles smirked. "Yeah, man."

"He can turn himself invisible! Watch this, guys!"

Miles gritted his teeth and strained but remained completely visible.

"I… can't do it on command."

"He can't do it on command! But it is cool! Show them the zappy thing!"

Gwen rolled her eyes. It was almost comical how inexperienced he was. She would have laughed had the fate of the multiverse not rested on his shoulders. Instead, she watched him and secretly hoped that Miles might succeed.

He didn't.

"Can't do that on command, either."

"He still can't do it on command! But… uh, he can do so much more! What else can you do?"

"Just those two things."

"Just those two things," Peter B. repeated, sounding less enthusiastic than before.

MILES OF INTEREST

Miles looked embarrassed, and Gwen didn't blame him. She had to admit that she felt a little bit bad for him. It's hard to realise that there's something that you really wish you could do but can't. She decided to stick up for him a little.

"I've seen him in action," Gwen said to Noir, Ham, and Peni. "He's got… potential. If nothing else. I think he can get us home."

Saying that made her realise that she actually believed it. She probably shouldn't. She shouldn't get her hopes up.

Noir squared his shoulders and approached Miles, fists up. "Okay, little fella. Kingpin's gonna send a lot of mugs after ya. I'm talking hard boys, real biscuit boxers. Can you fend them all off at once?"

What in heck was a biscuit boxer?

Miles put up his dukes awkwardly. "Uh, I've never actually fought anyone…"

"Surprise attack!" Noir kicked Miles' legs out from underneath him. He hit the floor hard.

Gwen shoved her useless belief out the window and decided to focus on the facts.

"Can you rewire a mainframe while being shot at?" asked Peni, her eyes slits. She tossed some tech-looking thing at Miles as he got up.

"Wait, what?"

"Show me."

"Surprise attack!" yelled Noir. He punched Miles in the face, who went down like a sack of cement.

Gwen approached Miles. "Can you swing and flip with the grace of a dancer?"

"Can you close off your emotions so you aren't crippled by the moral ambiguity of your violent actions?" asked Noir.

That was actually a good question.

"Can you help your aunt create an online dating profile so she can get out of the dang house every once in a while?" asked Mrs. Parker.

Wait, what?

"Can you float through the air when you smell a delicious pie?" asked Ham, floating in a similar manner. Gwen didn't smell any pie. Ham's nose must have been more sensitive than hers. Either that, or he was just plain nuts.

Gwen re-railed the impromptu testing procedure. "Can you be strong?"

"Ruthless?" added Peni.

"Disciplined?"

"Psychic?"

"I don't know?" said Miles, looking thoroughly overwhelmed.

Gwen remembered a monster. She remembered a ten-foot-tall beast, many times stronger than she was. She remembered massive claws digging into her leg, scales scraping her hands, talons raking across her face, a bludgeoning tail. She remembered the pain, worse than any beating she had ever taken at the hands of a superpowered foe. She remembered the scars.

She helped Miles to his feet.

"Above all, no matter how many times you get hit, can you get back up?"

The only reason she was still alive was because she kept getting back up. Could he do the same?

She kicked him back down.

"'Cause when a Spiderman is on the floor…"

"Come on, Miles!"

"When you think you can't keep going…"

"You can do it."

"Get up, Miles!"

"Guys, cool it," said a rather concerned Peter B.

"Come on!"

"Let's go, Miles."

"Get up, Miles."

"You got this."

It was a mess, but it was a mess that he needed to learn. Sometimes learning things the hard way was the best way. It was the way that had taught her.

But was Miles able to take it?

"Come on, Miles, get up."

Miles tried. Gwen could see it in his face. But he wasn't determined enough. He gave up and slumped to the floor.

The other spiders pulled into a huddle.

"You need to be more honest with yourself," Gwen told Peter B. "He's not ready."

"Yeah, he can't do this," added Noir. "He's just a kid."

"We're gonna have to stay and do it for him."

Peter B. looked distraught. Gwen couldn't blame him. She was sad, too. She wished that Miles could have succeeded. But… it wasn't the case. And everyone had to accept that. Even Miles.

"He's looking right at us while we talk about him," commented Noir.

The spiders turned to look at Miles. But he was gone. The elevator platform slid upwards with nobody in sight.

"Miles?" called Peter B.

"You see? He… can turn invisible."

Gwen watched the platform rise up and clang as it stopped at the ceiling.

Tough love worked. But had they all been too tough on him? Had they lost all hope of saving the multiverse without casualty? Or was it a lost cause to begin with?

Would Miles let the others help him again?

He had to help himself, though. That was part of the problem.

Mrs. Parker finally broke the awkward silence.

"So… you folks ready for dinner?"

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[carraville]

Hi there I'm writing a fic and wondered if you could help me with something. I don't know an awful lot about David beckham Paul scholes and Phil Neville. I know your a man Utd fan and you'll probably love them all haha but just tell me what they're like from what you can gather as people and players. Even if it's just your opinion that's fine! Thanks so much for your help

ok SO i do love them a lot and i know much more about them than i ought to, so much so to the point that it might be more useful if you had something more specific you need to ask about, because i…am far too involved in them??? buT general-wise i wrote a draft primer on the co92 a while ago and I’m just going to copy and paste from there and hope this helps!!!! 

putting this under a read more because this is....long

BECKS:

Everyone and their mum (especially their mums, probably) knows who David Beckham is, but did you know him when he thought that curtains were not just to make windows pretty but also for hair? Did you? Because curtain becks is almost as bad as half-alive mullet becks (although nothing can beat cornrow becks in the history of what the fuck were you thinking, let’s be real).

What can I tell you about Becks that you don’t already know? He has OCD and has to have an even number of coke cans in the fridge. He took cooking classes when he was at Milan and learnt how to make pasta (a far cry from his humble beginnings in Gary Neville’s kitchen). His middle name is Robert for Bobby Charlton. He’s honestly a more down-to-earth and clever bloke than people give him the credit for and he’s really just a little boy who’s loving what he does and works incredibly hard for it? A lot of people always remember the underwear modeling (for good reason, I mean, have you seen) but in doing so they dismiss his playing days, which is ridiculous because he was so fucking good. And hey, you can be good at both football and looking like a life-sized, anatomically correct Ken doll! His crosses were exquisite, his free kicks were sublime, and the partnership he had with Gaz is still guilty of murder for killing me through old, grainy youtube videos. Also everyone’s always keen to stress that he’s never really let fame change him or the way he deals with people, which is lovely.

If you wanna kill urself, watch his retirement interview with Gary, because it perfectly sums up who he is. Boy from Leytonstone who wanted to play football. He’s so insistent on being remembered as a player that it really breaks your heart that more people don’t. No one talks about how he tried that Wimbledon goal every day in training, or how he still hits exquisite free kicks aged 40plus because he practiced them for so damn long. He’s a beautiful talented hardworking boy and I lov him!! and he’s not arrogant or anything at all he’s just so cool!

Becks left United in 2003 after a bit of a bust up with Fergie, even though they remain on great terms nowadays. It broke everyone’s heart, it broke Gary’s heart, but it wasn’t so bad for Becks bc he found a Spanish goalkeeper to frolic around with. Still couldn’t watch us play for years, though, so there!!! In 2007 he moved to LA Galaxy, in 2013 he moved to PSG, and he retired then. It was great, he got thrown into the air and shit bc he was retiring so it wouldn’t matter if he broke his legs. ffs lads.

Fun fact: I still laugh at the fact that his house in Hertfordshire was called Beckhingham Palace

SCHOLESY:

My favourite story of him regarding this Intense Dislike for Humanity is this one: after the 2008 CL final, which we won, he was the first and only one on the team bus while everyone else was ostensibly getting drunk off their tits. At the next press conference, reporters asked him if he’d wanted to have some time to himself and reflect on how he’d finally gotten redemption for 1999. He stared at them and said, “I just wanted to go home.” 

IDC IF IT’S AN URBAN MYTH IT BASICALLY SUMS HIM UP ENTIRELY.

My other favourite story of him is him telling AC Milan’s president that ‘if you want me to play for you, you’ll have to buy this club’, because we’re the best club in the world. Seriously, his love for United is so great. Sometimes he’s described as an Oldham fan, but he’s said before that it was United first and Oldham second. Did I say ‘said’? I probably meant smoke-signalled it because this bitch is so hard to get interviews with. There’s this great one where he’d just retired or something so the BBC got him to do an interview and their first question was ‘is this a living hell for you, then?’ and his response was ‘it is, really, yeah…I’ve been thinking to myself ‘why the hell did I agree to this???’. I know people have been knocking him for talking a lot more nowadays but a) he’s a pundit, it’s his job to talk and b) I rly think it’s just because it’s his only link with football that he has left?? So he puts himself thru it, because he just loves football so much, and that makes me love him even more? The directors of CO92 had a kickabout with him and described it as watching a little boy play again and I think that’s just the most beautiful and pure thing and Scholesy is so pure. Except when he’s setting people on fire.

BC HE DOES THAT A LOT, like, you think he’s quiet so he ain’t gonna be up for much banter but, my dude, he is the most savage person you will ever encounter. The closest I’ve ever seen him come to pissing himself laughing was when he was describing attacking Phil with a 50-yarder and knocking a POOR INNOCENT BOY flat on the ground. Laughing at that! Also his sense of humour is absolute wreckage. Gary has the best story:

People think Scholesy’s shy and quiet but he’s one of the most cutting people I know. Example: the day Diana Law, who worked in United’s press department, was chatting with the players. “Gary, you remind me of my brother for some reason,” she said. “Why?” Scholesy replied, quick as a flash. “Is he a knob too?”

HAHAH u knob. AnyWAY this is getting long but tldr tiny ginger little shit who hates the world and would probably hate how much i love him. He debuted for United in 1994, scoring twice against Port Vale, and retired in 2011, then unretired in 2012 and waltzed into our starting XI, and then retired again in 2013. So the only person we could find to replace Paul Scholes was Paul Scholes. smh.

Fun fact: he used to steal all of Gary’s shit and hide things and he’s SUCH A LITTLE SHIT, both literally and figuratively, I love it

PHIL:

ok phil is just the sweetest purest cinnamon roll you will ever meet, ever, I mean you probably won’t ever meet him but u know what i mean. Sometimes I think he’s too sweet bc he’s such a dumb pushover. Someone once said he was everyone’s favourite Neville just by virtue of being not Gary. Which is hilarious. ANyway he’s a fuckin sweetie pie and family man who constantly refers to his kids has his babies even tho Harvey is, like, old enough to drive I think?? and he’s an incredibly good dad to Isabella especially who has cerebral palsy but he’s so!!!! supportive!!! and god what did we do to deserve this dumb boi. If we were doing a CO92/Spice Boys crossover he would be Redders hands down because he also gets a lot of stick, from his commentary to his analysis (I s’pose it doesn’t help when ur bruv keeps winning shit like pundit of the year), but he always takes it on the chin and laughs it off and keeps on being such a good person, kind to everyone he meets and genuinely good-natured. I love his self-deprecating humour, it’s the best thing. He also loves United a lot, altho probably not as much as he loves Gaz uwu

Ok, so he’s not the world’s most exciting or greatest player, but he was honestly rly talented and people can forget that?? I mean you don’t just make captain of Everton bc you’re the United captain’s lil bro. He scored some amazing goals when he was at United - maybe the olden day Jesse Lingard - not a great goal scorer but a scorer of great goals. And he was always so intent and almost enthusiastic going into things, which kinda mirrors his puppy personality, which I lov. because don’t let his puppy dog eyes and smile fool u, ok, he’s just as driven as all of them and he will get what he want. probably just with less blood and dead people than, like, scholesy.

He’s two years younger than the rest of them so he made his debut in ‘95 and then heartbreakingly left in 2005, going on to captain Everton (but not before scoring an own goal against us bc he loves us still really). He retired in 2013.   All these kids retiring in the same year! Tsk. It’s like they planned it or something.

Fun fact: he was a brilliant cricketer and used to play with Freddie Flintoff. A tear shed for the hungover Philip at Buckingham Palace that we never had

[higgzbosen]

Shame.

I know this sounds stupid and contrite to say, but I don't know how else to convey the disappointment I feel in our nation. Everything that has transpired and the horrible possibilities that await us was completely avoidable. There were so many opportunities to act on the numerous warnings that bad things would happen if we put 45 in control of the country. Yet here we are. Only 7 months in and it's so obvious that this is a disaster now and only calamity seems to loom before us like the darkest of storm clouds on the horizon. Growing up in the 70s, I learned to be wary of the russians. The fear of nuclear war was a very rationale fear shared among the Americans everywhere when I was growing up. It wasn't an actual fear of fighting, it was the escalations of fighting that worried not just us but the world. Shit got to that it was over for all of us. There was no bigger foe of the russians than the Republicans as I grew up. The Republican party worked very hard to take the lead on anything that would show not only their distrust of the red menace, but would revel in their distaste for the communists. It was their thing. The pussy democrats could never handle the cunningly evil agents of communism. Only the Republicans could protect us. Yet here we are. We not only have an orange man child sitting at the desk with the "football" but he is under suspicion of colluding with the Russians to get there. There is a possibility Republican president of the United States has worked with a hostile foreign nation in order to do what exactly it's really hard to tell, but the sheer fact that this question is even asked should scare the shit out of all of us. This is a serious issue that can no longer be minimized and dismissed. It's hypocrisy at its most buoyant that 5 he very party that has rolled the big bad ass fight those commie bastards card for decades but when the red monsters mess with the elections, it's not outrageous enough to defend the country from outside attacks that you get so greedy to go after health care. That's is the bigger threat? That deserve your attention? Your priorities are corrupted and your spines are weak under the pressure of your own rhetoric. Shame on you most though because your party leaders knew about the russians efforts and were told what was going on. But they said nothing. Because it was their guy who was going to win, if the russians were successful then yea, wow that's bad right. You also were told of your candidates on goings, but you did nothing. Why? Recently it has become very evident that the only thing that matters now as this legislative term moves on wasting your time on greedy plans to make profits for greedy people off of human suffering. Now more than ever the win or just a win becomes so important, but it was never a win for America was it? I really don't think it would have been a win for the majority of Americans that would have been effected by this effort to rid our nation of Obama care. How utterly disgusting that a few small fraction of that industry profit so hugely from doing nothing but " administrating" the process. If you went after that greedy bunch and put them out maybe, but that's who you were actually talking about making America great for. Not for the red states, red fucking dots that exist in those states. Little men with lots of money to get the ears of weak men like the leadership of the Republican party. They knew what was coming and did nothing. They knew what was going on and they could have stopped it. But here we are. It's not right that we should even have reason to ponder the idea that 45 is drinking the red vodka. It runs so counter to the DNA of the Republican party, it's almost like having a non-white guy be your candidate. You know it's coming at some point as the demographic changes, so you work hard on including diversity, but your very nature is embracing exclusion. But this should be like finding out Ronnie and the Duke were the original broke back mountain. It ain't so. No way that none in our party would ever be a Russian agent or confidant. It's OK to bang them though. For what it's worth even putin has said that Russian working gals were the best, so yea it's OK to do that right? Yet here we are. So easily avoided. But still we are heading down what I can only surmise will be histories most absurd periods where the travesty that will most certain assail us was so completely avoidable that pridefully ignorant ambivalence could be the only thing stopping anyone from doing anything to avert certain disaster. It's so preposterous it wouldn't hold up as a plot to a movie. Yet......so how do the republicans stomach the notion that they have let their party be taken over by such a disaster as 45. How they try to give the current situation away with the benefits of doubt on their side, yet for the past 8 years they acted as they were at war with the president, I'm sure it had nothing to do with the color of that man. Nothing at all. But now it's his naiveté of the orange one. He is learning on the job. No. Not right, bullshit. Your just as guilty of this abortion of democracy as are the people who were conned into wasting their hard earned rights to vote for this blasphemy of humanity. How in the world can any be convinced that this man, and I say that in only the most basic representation of the gender, he is no man. Deferments don't fight wars and neither do the rich. Like they also rarely work for what they claimed to have earned. How could he with the spoon of plenty feed the hearts and minds of the hungry and needy that outnumber his kind many fold, but he is supposed to drain the very swamp that he is known to frolic in. You ignore this like you ignore the oncoming constant trickle of more "forgotten" meetings or discussions with the Russians. Your very AG has committed perjury and recused himself from anything to do with it and 45 wants to bash his biggest fan when he started this insane March to doomsday. Just like a rich arrogant prick to cast away something someone when they no longer can get them what they want no loyalty from the wanna be king who demands it from his subjects? You can't be surprised that he is turning on him, look at what he did to that douchebag Christie. Not that I care for the little golam looking racist, but to look like you may have betrayed your own nation for this and then lie about it in front of the very people you worked with for years, to be pissed on by this orange buffon, you actually deserve far worse "my precious" Shame on our nation for taking for granted its greatness and throwing it away like this. It may not be the total end of our country but I am fearful it is going to along time before the damage will be repaired and the lives lost on the follies of the orange hulk. In a nation of laws, precedent is the basis for progression and the status quo, 45 may not be the last one to exploit the office for the gains of a small few, but every expansion of power allows those who come after to push it even more.....

[lovedestielandsabriel67-blog]

@galaxyvent reaction to Supernatural Season 3 Episode 11, ‘Mystery Spot’

Inside the asterisks ( * ) are me and the parentheses are actions.

@galaxyvent

*okay, so we-we starting this?* Yea, I’m going in right now. I’m still crying, so.

This montage of killing people is great

“I don’t wanna go to hell”

He has nice boots

His dance moves are great

He is me

That’s a lot of toothpaste on a dry toothbrush.

Is that a frickin Lingerie bra?

Dean’s saunter, tho

He is - He looks like the gross version of Sam.

*has the song come on yet?* The song is over, they’re at the restaurant

Hasselback?

Ah, they mentioned the title, this is gonna be great.

Doggo, doggo, it’s Air Bud!

Wait wait wait, I know that girl, that blonde one.

That a desk, or a piano? That’s a desk.

Oo cool

Those are tentacles

That’s a lie, he doesn’t know

His hair looks greasy - he needs a shower

Jesus christ

Ahhh, there he goes

Aaaand, dead. Dead dead dead. Dean. Oh, if you replace the - holy jesus christ

The intro gets me every time

It’s a time loop, it’s a time loop, it’s a time loop.

He’s so confused.

Still looks like gross Sam

Ackles McJenbo

It-It’s tuesday. Are the boys back in town?

Small fry (laughing a bit)

*So, how’s the - how’s the episode so far?* I - It’s good, I guess.

It’s tues-day, all day, everday.

Arms. *what?* Arms.

Very nice reflexes, WINK

Dog. Air Bud, it’s Air Bud, dog dog dog

That lady. Is important! She looks like it

He got shot and died. And not yet shot this time

Why does he look like he’s wearing eyeliner

He’s gonna get hit by a car, he’s gonna - (laughs) I sure guessed it.

Not again (laughing)

*Should I listen to heat of the moment while you’re watching this?* I’m already listening to the heat of the moment while watching this, so…

Staring.

Dean, serious, you’re about to die like five teen more times

Third time, third time.

Time loop, time loop, Dean it is time loop.

Aww, his face softened. Because his baby brother is spooped

Bar bark, bar bark

(nervously do do dos)

He got shot *again? He got shot again?* No, he was like ‘well, what happens?’

(laughs) He looks so-he looks so disappointed.

Gotta look both ways before crossing the street

Strange, you’re a strange man

This is a making me nervous

He’s uh angry. Angry moose.

Is that a turtle? Where’s the turtle?

Oh he knows what’s goin’ on, I can tell.

*Hey, Will. Is it the Heat of the Moment?* It’s not the heat of the moment yet, he just got hit - (laughs a bit)

It’s - It’s very hard

*So, what death are you on?* Uhhh, heee, he chokes on a sausage and dies. I-I’m just guessi-wait, I was right?

Aw, no, mah thing froze

Come on netflix, I am ready to diiee..

*(laughing uncontrollably)* Heyyy, it’s working again!

Don’t - aw no no no no

*So, Will, what’s going on?* (laughs and coughs) Dean, how do you know these things?

That lady was important and I was right, she’s gonna do something.

It is the guy who went missing. It is. It is.

*So, what death are you on now?* Uh, this is the tuesday after he got murdered by the dog

Strawberry syrup

He sounds like an angry dad. Go moose, run, go frolic. Run, my son.

Is that a toothpick?

IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS *well, who do you think it is?* Gabey baby *you mean Gabriel?* Yeah, I…

Ahhh, your jokes aren’t funny but I love his face.

Is that zodiac killer Ted Cruz? *Are you talking about his actor* No I’m talking about Gabriel in general.

Sam, Sam, don’t let the next tuesday be you dying.

Does he switch people does he switch people? Kill him kill him kill him. No dean dean dean dean

Gun. *what?* Gun.

(repeats dean over and over)

Not again not again not again not again not again

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, it’s fine.

Oh god he’s so angry

Deaaaaan

I want him back already

I don’t care about Dean being alive I just want Sam to stop being so angry and sad all the time

Oh he’s so angry tho

Is that a harpoon?!

He’s so angry

Ha, hm, ha, hooo he found him he found him

Buddy he’s so angry and sad

I just… I just can’t. I want to moose to be happy.

Blood. How much blood? A gallon?!

Woah

Hun-ney!

*hey Will?* Yeah? *Rise and shine, Sammy.* (slightly whimpers)

Being stabbed is weirdly vivid even though I’ve never -

I’m runnin outta raisins and m&ms

Yea he really does need his brother because otherwise he’s gonna die

I’m not ready. I’m not ready, no no no, don’t -

*So, what part are you on?* THE SONG? OH GOD

*Will.* I don’t… You just… Sam… Sam no, Sam boy, Sam baby, you did a bad, you did the…

Gabey baby I hate you I wish you would die in a hole.

He’s gonna cry. Gabe, don’t make him cry, he’s gonna cry

Wait what season does Cas come in? *What season? The fourth* Okay

You have some good words, Gabe. You have some good words

He’s - oh, he’s actually - I can see it.

He is a brick wall that’s why

Ohhh, mooooose, noooo

It’s been Wednesday the whole time.

Heat of the moment, heat of the moment (surprised noises at no Asia) Give him a big fat hug

He’s so nice, so hug, so many hug

You can’t blame it on dreams, baby

Dean dean dean, you’re not allowed to go first, you’re not allowed anymore.

Okay, episode’s over. I didn’t think this would be sad until Sam actually started getting affected by Dean’s deaths.

*So, what was the best death?* The best death had to be when I accidentally predicted he was gonna choke on a sausage. That’s like basically choking on a dick

It’s like you’re the journalist and I’m your poor journal servant. *you are, in fact, my journal servant*

Fuck you Eric Kripke and Robert Singer, nobody cares about you

I don’t know weather I should be laughing or crying

*So can I post this* I’m still crying about how I couldn’t eat my ramen. *Can-Can I post it tho* ya you can post it