#i want to try and eat healthier and its going to start somewhere on god

[starswallowingsea]

thinking of that post that's like being a picky eater as a kid just means i get to experience the joy of trying so many foods as an adult. i have some new foods planned for this week after i move including stir fried sweet and sour veggies + rice and omurice (really simple fried rice... may add veggies to it later if i like it but one step at a time). will let you guys know how it goes

[m3hgumi]

— when you have period cramps pt 2

a/n: check out part 1 to this here!

pairings: yuta okkotsu x f!reader, toge inumaki x f!reader, nanami kento x f!reader

genres: fluff, comfort, so much fluff bye

word count: 729

yuta okkotsu

bro was SO STRESSED 😭

first time you were doubled down in pain clutching onto yourself on the sofa in the common room of the dorm he thought you were dying

“oh my god y/n are you okay? why are you laying down like that? is something hurting you? tell me where it hurts, i swear i’ll beat up whoever tried to hurt yo-“

“babe calm down and just get me a heating pad from maki. please.”

“on it 🫡” HES LITERALLY SO CUTE PLEASEKWKSKS

usually he’d stay by your side bringing you snacks whenever you asked or just talked to distract you from the pain

this later turned into hour long video calls during his downtime when he started training with miguel overseas

he’d talk for as long as he could, sharing the new food he tried, what miguel has been teaching him, and updates on the mission that led him there

because of the time difference and also how busy he was, he wasn’t able to reach you as often as he’d like to

he’d apologize for not being able to physically be there to comfort you, which you would wave off with a laugh because there isn’t really anything that could be done about it

he was trying his best though and that’s all that mattered to you 😪

inumaki toge

like itadori he was also very confused at first as to why you were wincing in pain while walking awkwardly towards him

he’d calmly ask you if you got hurt anywhere, with his hands reaching to you as he thought you were about to fall over

once the two of you got to somewhere more comfortable (like the common room or his dorm), you begin to explain where the pain was coming from

he could only sympathize with you, giving a worrisome and concerning look

but now he also realizes why maki gets snappier than usual on a particular week of the month 🤭

from then on he would be your personal errand boy, grabbing pads, chocolate, or any other good you’re craving from the store whenever you asked

he’d let you lay your head in his lap as you kept the heating pad on your lower stomach

he’d get you to watch youtube videos and tiktoks with him (anything you like)

if your cramps were getting particularly bad, he’d gently take your hand and draw circles on it in an attempt to ease the pain

if you’re comfortable with it he’d also do the same on your stomach (where the pain was really coming from)

though he can’t really endlessly talk to you to distract from the pain, his warming presence was more than enough to lull your mind from the pain

nanami kento

over the years he’s gotten very good at helping you get through shark week

like megumi he also has your period tracker synced to his phone so he can be notified of when he should stock up on supplies (ie. pads, compresses, snacks, pain meds, etc.)

he’ll also try (keyword: try) to not go into overtime at work so he could as much time with you as possible

also like megumi he isn’t fazed by your emotional outbursts or mood swings, as he knows its just the pain getting the better of you at times

if you don’t usually have an appetite while you’re on your period, he’ll cook you a small meal and slowly feed it to you, making sure you actually ate it before going back into the kitchen again

he’ll also try to limit the amount or cravings (chocolate and chips) you eat during the week and replace them with healthier options like fruit (ok health icon nanami 🙄) since he doesn’t want you having a stomachache after eating all of those sweets

also because it mildly reminds him of gojos gross sugar intake

if your feet or shoulders are aching, he’ll gladly give you massages to ease the tension in those areas

if you get bored of the shows on tv then he will read to you until you fall asleep

his reading voice, typically dull and monotone, rings music to your ears as your consciousness begins to slip away, resulting in your eyelids coming closer together to let you fall into a peaceful sleep (i should maybe shut up now)

© m3hgumi 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or repost my works anywhere

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP x Reader - McDonald's Sprite (REQUESTED)

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

Requested by: @katnotmore123

Bro y'all be simping for Sprite and I'm here simping for 7Up...

I mean I like them both but I just prefer 7up over Sprite... It's like comparing Pepsi and Coke ngl but with a more subtle difference

SCP 073 (Cain)

You came back to the foundation one day with a cup of iced drink and Cain had asked what you were drinking and you showed him

He was mildly confused but soon understood the beverage since he had seen them somewhere on the web (no, not the hub, an advert from McDonald's)

You asked if he wanted to try some and he did, so you gave him a sip

You were slightly annoyed and surprised since you drove over an hour and hadn't had anything to drink and the last thing you wanted was someone taking your drink

But since it was 073, you made it an exception since you hadn't expected him to have any food or beverages outside of site 17

You figured that he had enjoyed it as he reminisced his past about being able to eat plant-based food but no longer could

You felt bad and agreed to get more when you next go back

The researchers had wondered if the drink had ever rotted in his mouth but realise moments later that it's mainly made out of artificial ingredients aside from the natural flavourings

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

I have high doubts that you would be able to persuade Abel to drink such a plain beverage, so you had devised a plan to get him to try

You made a bet with Abel in which the loser has to finish off the drink, not that you'd complain (you unhealthy mf), but you really wanted him to give it a try

Abel accepted and had very much lost the bet

He had taken a sip and you noticed that he's enjoying the drink and teased him

He spat it out and flat out denied it (like the tsundere he is) but continued drinking it anyways

Some of the researchers monitoring Abel's cell found it rather amusing that he enjoyed such a "plain beverage" and did try to tease him about it

Let's just say it didn't end very well as it resulted in somebody's head being chopped off

You both had agreed that if Abel stops trying to breach his containment and be more cooperative, you or somebody else in your team would buy him more Sprite from McDonald's (and by 'buy', I mean kidnapping the whole chain's Sprite dispenser)

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

999 would most definitely take the drink out of your hand since his little tingles tell him that whatever you were drinking was sweet

And he was very much right

You were slightly shocked but wasn't surprised since he does have quite a sweet tooth

Every now and again, SCP 999 would ask if you had any more of those drinks and would even ask what they were

You had explained to him that it's a lemon and line flavoured soft drink created by the Coca-Cola company (the more you know right?)

He was intrigued and sweetly requested if you could buy him more and you obliged

You would use your time off to buy a dozen of Sprites from McDonald's and would sometimes buy other soft drinks like Coke and Fanta for 999

Needless to say, you had an orange blob as your personal pet who would give you unlimited hugs since you spoiled him with so many drinks

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

This mf of a lizard right here is just as stubborn, if not even more than Abel, and would reject trying that beverage at all for the whole entire week

You had to bribe him and the researchers were laughing their socks off from this interaction you both got going

He did give in but was rather hesitant at first

Once you poured some into his mouth, he seemed slightly disgusted from the taste

He would just sit still for a moment as to contemplate then stuck his tongue out as a sign of disgust

But bring the cheeky person you were, you spilt more into his mouth which led to him farting for the next few hours to which everyone laughed

Dr Bright heard the commotion and came to see what was happening

Let's just say he encouraged you to carry on if you want your head cut off but found it amusing regardless

In short, don't ever give him Sprite unless you want to torture him

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

Does this bird doctor even drink?!

You mention multiple times about human food and how delicious they are

Mainly McDonald's Sprite and their food since its rather popular

ESPECIALLY THEIR CHEESE BITES/STICKS!!! HAVE YALL EVEN TRIED THEM!? THEY'RE DELICIOUS AF!!!

OMG they've released the garlic ones but I preferred the normal Mozzarella sticks and cheesy bites though

Anyways, back to Sprite, our side chick

049 would be intrigued about this 'Sprite' since you spoke so passionately about it like your life depended on it and requested you to get him one for a try and so you did

When he drank it he was surprised at the foreign taste

He asked if there were more beverages like it and you answered honestly, carrying on with your love for McDonald's and offered to buy him some for a try

Basically, 049 would give it a try since you spoke so passionately for them

He wouldn't necessarily hate it, but he wouldn't love the drink as much

I'd say he would be intrigued to try something new outside of his role in curing the pestilence

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

I am so sorry guys, I'll have to make 035 hella short since I can't think of anything interesting for him

DO YALL THINK THIS BOI CAN EVEN TRY?! JUST LOOK AT HIM!!! HE'S A BLOODY MASK!!!

The closest thing for him to try the drink is if you gave his now possessed body some beforehand so 035 could telepathically understand the taste

Like if you just straight up gave him the drink I don't think he would be able to drink it even if he wanted to

If the now dead body never had Sprite, then you ould just describe the tase to him in form of arts (I like to imagine 035 would be into arts, especially performing arts since he's basically a theatre mask)

SCP 105 (Iris)

Our girl here has a high chance that she might have tried McDonald's Sprite

But she just prefers healthier foods (this healthy mf knows that y'all can't keep healthy, that's why she's here to start your New Year's Resolution which is to stay healthy)

You both would recommend food which is healthy or unhealthy and would try them

Iris is more than capable of controlling her diet, but you, on the other hand, have a hard time doing so (don't lie, we all know y'all like junk food)

So, you both compromised in which you can have junk food as a reward, namely your favourite beverage, Sprite

You just love the citrus flavoured, colourless beverage so much that Iris would have to hide the drink from you (ah yes great promotion from me XD)

What would you do without our girl, Iris, eh? (Die from overeating unhealthy food which causes heart attacks and strokes, of course, fun!)

Anyways, sometimes when you're the one going out, you would be the one to buy a few dozen bottles of Sprite from McDonald's (bro do they even sell bottled drinks? Ik they do in KFC from where I live OwO)

Iris would drop dead from the sight of you bringing in so many Sprites into the foundation

She would most likely drink some with you, not because she likes them, god no

It's because there's no more room to store them and she's just a little bit thirsty

SCP 106 (Old Man)

This old man would be so confused by all this food and drinks from the outside world

His first impression of McDonald's was that of a circus since you've shown him the older advertisement for McDonald's since it fits his age (love you 106!!! Not)

And then you gave him a menu, and god did he not have any glasses (boi he do be needing to go to Specsavers fr)

He read Mozzarella Sticks as mosasaurs pricks, the Spicy Veggie One as spicy vag- and what's worse is that he read Double Quater Pounder as double quantum pounding (he even read Coke wrong!)

You and the foundation staff burst out of laughter at his 20/20 eyesight

So one day, you returned to the foundation with some Sprite in your hands in hopes that 106 would give it a go and so he did

He found the flavour somewhat new and strange but still enjoyed it nevertheless (this boi here do be a man of culture, am I right?)

Anyways, 106 loved it so much to the point that during one of the breaches, he disappeared from the foundation and reappeared with 10 boxes of Sprite

The researchers then realised afterwards that 106 had used his pocket dimension to teleport to the nearest McDonald's and stole the boxes of Sprite without even paying

They were even more surprised to find that the workers there were ordinary humans and weren't even fazed about 106 teleporting to their business (Sames here bro! If anyone stole my food/drinks I'd be pissed too regardless of who it is!!! Food is food!!!)

You basically made him addicted to Sprite

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

(Imma be honest here, idk if this guy eats since he's facing the wall and covering his face like 99% of the time unless some guy saw his face)

You were sat in 096's cell and was debating on what food to get from McDonald's

096 was curious about what you're talking about since he heard you mumbling bout food from this so-called "McDonald's"

So you explained to him the concept of food and that generally speaking, unhealthy foods are tastier and typically served quicker in at places like McDonald's

Imma be real here, I like Burger King's chilli cheese bites a tiny bit more since the McDonald's at my place is stuck with garlic cheese bites atm

It's not like I hate them, but I just prefer the old ones, but it's nice that McDonald's changes up their food every now and then

Anyways, back onto our side chick

You bought your favourite Sprite along with the double quantum pou- quarter pounder

096 was upon curious and so you let him have a bite of your quarter pounder and your Sprite

Let's just say that 096 found it weird and didn't ask about human food again

Dr Jack bright

Jack Bright is very much aware of McDonald's and other fast-food chains since he does have a fair share of memories of eating them with his family and because the bodies he possesses do be unhealthy af (just like you)

You were talking about food with one of your co-workers and Bright just so happened to be nearby and butted his head into the conversation

Your co-worker also just happened to leave for a meeting so you're both stuck together talking about McDonald's

Sometime later, you bought to the foundation some food, including Jack's favourites as he had mentioned not long ago

You both tried each other's food and he was mesmerised by the Sprite since it's been a while since he had it

So whenever you went back, you would buy a larger bottle of Sprite for Jack since he wouldn't have much free time and needed to drink more anyways

Sometimes, when you're both talking about food, you'd make up puns for them or just laugh at your misinterpretations since you're just as blind as a bat (btw I've read somewhere that bats have good vision, they just use echolocation a lot)

Some of the things you both would say would be "Did you hear that McDonald's gave all their employees large laptops for Christmas? They were Big Macs" and "Hey, Ronald McDonald - been watching any good clown movies? Ronald: I'm loving it"

One time, he smacked your bum and casually said to you "Girl, this quarter-pounder will take you to a whole different level of experience" and then left

Dr Simon Glass

Another doctor who has knowledge of fast foods

He's similar to Bright in a way as he doesn't leave the facility as often as he likes since he's constantly busy

Also, he would make terrible jokes and puns using wordplay

When you told him about your favourite drink, Sprite, Glass immediately said "I went to the store to get eight cans of Sprite. When I got home, I realized I’d only picked seven up"

You just looked dumbfounded at his puns and laughed as he continued

He did manage to take a sip and drank the whole can of Sprite instead

You even bought some wrap with extra mayo and told Simon about your friendly chat with the waitress/cashier and mentioned her former co-workers

And you died on the inside because his only reply was "She should go back sometime to ketchup with her old co-workers or she mayo not want to"

To shut him up, you have decided that buying him Sprite would work and it kinda did

Only for a short while though

Dr Alto Clef

Clef is well aware of the fast-food chain called McDonald's

It was hard to ignore it as a lot of people younger than him had kept talking about it, even you

Even worse if it was you talking about McDonald's since you have an obsession with their Sprite

Poor Clef was confused as he assumed that all lemon/lime flavoured drinks were the same

Oh boy was he wrong

You came back with your lunch from you know where and 2 bottles of Sprite

One was from McDonald's and the other from Lidl along with some of your favourite pastries, like croissants and toffee yum yums

You had him try all the foods and both Sprites and he finally gave in to the fact that McDonald's Sprite tastes more superior than the other

Not only that, he made dirty jokes and puns about the food in McDonald's

Like "Baby, you got more legs than a bucket of McDonald's", "Come over to my house and I’ll give ya a happy meal", "Do you work here? Because I’d like to order some fries with that shake" and "Girl when I am done with you, you won't be looking for no toys in this happy meal"

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Benjamin Kondraki would be the type of person who would be reluctant to try but would anyways since you asked so kindly and gave them those eyes

And by that, I mean a death glare

NGL he doesn't seem like the type of fella to be eating a ton of unhealthy food

I mean he doesn't necessarily eat salad or anything overly healthy, but he does have a balanced diet for the most part and does treat himself sometimes, but not too often

You magically crept up behind Kondraki and scared him unintentionally but you still laughed anyway because you're evil

He looked down and realised that the packaging was from McDonald's and you were holding a familiar clear bottle in your other hand

You were kind enough to share your food with him and he thoroughly enjoyed it

Then after that, you forced him to drink some Sprite since he has PTSD from your unhealthy obsession with it

And yes, he did end up drinking it

And no, he didn't like it nor did he hate it

You were upset that you thought he shot you down about Sprite but quickly regained your happiness since he did tell you about the drink being just above average

[shyrose57]

Part 2 with da angst

2: Young Ranbob did not understand at all what was going on, infact he refused to believe he ever had anything to do with the sabotages, it was only when Dream took over completely and gave Ranbob enough of his mind to know what he was doing, did he finally accept it. He tried and tried to break Dreams control and get control of his body back, but nothing he did ever really worked, and the more he tried Dream eventually began to punish him, forcing him to stop. He felt aboustely awful, like a failure, a murder, and just a shitty person during all of this. His journal shows basically all of his mental decline, it went from normal, him recording special things during the day, to semi-normal, him expression concern and fear over the sabotages and killings (with some out of place words or sentences here and there appearing half way through, showing Dreams presence), to recordings from someone with obvious mental distress (misspelled words, extreme fear, showing fear of himself, hasty writings and drawings, very obviously out of place sentences (their neater than the rest and written differently, written by Dream), and meaningless words and sentences, obviously trying to say something but not knowing how too), all they way to flipping entries of when Ranbob is in control (sadness, despair, hasitly done, regret, and just heavy sentences) to when Dream is in control (Neat writing, stating "facts", showing a level of glee). Ranbob does still have it, he actually still uses it to record what happens in the groups and how far he's come. To the Gladiators its more of a "Hey I found this thing, lets read this thing." "No let's not read the thing." "Im going to ignore you and read it anyway.". The pictures are from the current ruined state of the City of Mizu, and pictures showing Ranbob at the fishermens house, struggling to walk and even eat on his own, though a few are from before Dream ever got a hold of Ranbob. 

3: The way you just said "Causally drops some trauma on them, huh?" And "Traumatized gremlins" made me laugh so much. Its so accurate and made me just think of the brothers vibing toghere before I just pop in and drop tons of trauma on them before dipping. "Ah, damn, the opponent stared me in my chest." "WHY ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS!? YOUR BLEEDING OUT!" "Oh im used to this. Trust me I'll survive...probably." "RAN I SWEAR!". And "Ranbob when did you last eat?" "Uhhh, 2 days ago I think." "..." "D-did I eat too soon? I dont have to eat for another day or two max-" "Ranbob shut up and eat." "B-but-" "If you dont eat I'll tell Benjamin." "OK ok I'll eat."  Ran thinks its normal to get stabbed often, while Ranbob thinks its normal to only eat every 2 or 3 days, and to not sleep for a long time. There is one particular hunter that's been hunting him the longest, they go by Raq and are the most determined to get Ran, though they don't plan on killing him, but rather kidnapping him and exploting him for pearls. It was a bit hard at first, Ran kept having to leave to wander around the City for a bit, though he eventually successfully got accustomed to staying in one place, though he does sometimes wish he could travel again. 

4: A bit of everything, him getting violent and trying to run at first. But after that it fades more into what resembles a depressive state, with him refusing to move and crying while being lost in his head. He requires space to move around but be monitored in the first state, while for the second he needs constant comfort and physical contact. The aftermath was the fishermen and Jackie staying close to Ranbob for the next 2 days, while Grievous and Watson try to find Ran after he stormed off in anger and disbelief. Ran does know what a relapse means, but during the time he believes Ranbobs relapse might be something else (like his facade faulting maybe).

5: Not long at all, while Ran is carrying Jackie and Cletus makes fun of them as Ranbob is following him, Jackie quickly points out how Ranbob is like a lost puppy, and the same thing is basically happening to the two of them, but showed different ways. (The brothers making sure their family is safe by sticking close to them).

6: By the time they travel to Subbin, Ranbob has gained like 80 pounds and is a way more healthy weight and looks much more healthier than when the fishermen first found him. 

7: Their usually either getting materials, looking around the area/exploring, being taught things by someone, or sleeping. Charles was the one who revived the nickname! He called him that when trying different tactics to calm him down from a nightmare, Ranbob immediately froze and after a while started to cry, Charles panicked but Ranbob quickly comforted him, saying he just hasn't heard Bobby used in such a long time and brings back both incredibly happy and incredibly sad memories. And with permission, Charles starts using it more. Ran also freezes when hearing it, immediately going ridged and almost ripping a map he has in his hands, when asked by Grievous what was wrong, he just growled out nothing and moved on. Though he does mull over it later, conflicting emotions running all over him. 

8: Helping separate Ran and Ranbob was already big for the gladiators. As most people would just watch with glee. Then when they get time to talk and make the connection between Ran and Ranbob, they decide to make a exception and willingly put in effort to bond with the other group. Also them just naturally connecting made the bonding and trust easy between the groups. 

9: They do both! They keep some books, pictures, and other stuff, but sell others as relics. Ranbob mostly disapproves of them selling the items, but also knows it'll probably be best to sell them, and have them either spread the story of Mizu as a warning, or have the story of Mizu destroyed by assumptions and twisting of the story. 

10: I'm thinking maybe a Wilbur decendent is inhabiting a certain town, and when the groups stop in for a break, Wilbur decendant  houses them and listens to their story, and tries to help?

11: They mostly just find them, they either find them in book stores or ruined towns and cities (maybe I can put The Masquerade tale in here somewhere), a wide range of people, from scholars to plain history nerds, to books from during the time of the SMP itself to books written by seemingly no one. Ranbob finds some himself, mostly when exploring with the group. I think I misworded this! Dream is the one who compared Ranbobs journal to Ranboos memory book! Ranbob knows of Ranboos memory book but he himself doesn't see the connection. Ran feels all of the above. He is extremely ashamed and disappointed in himself for hurting his brother, he hugs him tightly and apologizes non-stop, promising to make it all up to him, and while he asks for forgiveness he also says he doesnt expect for his brother to forgive him. Once he finally sees Dream for real though he's the first one to blindly attack and try to kill em. Though he doesnt succeed. 

12: No one expect the brothers where outside in the rain when they fought. So no one knew of what was happening. Its only when Ran finally joined them, but alone, did they get scared and alarmed. And when Ran admits they got into a fight and Ranbob ran off, the fishermen immediately start yelling at Ran and run off to find Ranbob, screaming his name into the deafening thunder. Grievous follows them but Watson and Jackie hang back a bit, Jackie just looks at Ran with a heartbroken expression, tears in his eyes, and asks, with his voice shaking and laced with sadness, "Why can't you at least try to accept him, you dont have to like or forgive him, but why can't you just let him heal?" "Jackie..you dont know what's he done-" "I do know! And I'm willing to help him change and recover! You can't and your his brother! What kind of family member are you?" Ran tries to respond but Jackie just chokes and shakes his head at him, running off to follow the others. Watson then speaks up, simply saying "Mate, your doing more than hurting Ranbob at this point." Before running off to follow and join the others. Ran feels horrible, even before being confronted he so badly wanted to chase after Ranbob, but was to scared too and he constantly was trying to reassure himself that he did the right thing, but no matter what, he couldn't convince himself that was the truth. And after the confrontation, Ran is taking what was said to heart and also considering running away, leaving the group behind and sparing them of all the pain he believes he causes, believing that he's just as bad a family member as Ranbob was. But he doesnt, because he feels like he absolutely needs to talk to his brother and everyone else. 

2: Oh god. Poor Ranbob. He really went through it. It does make me wonder, did anyone notice something was up? His mentor? Parents? Friends? Speaking off, what was his relationship with them all? From what I know, he seemed to be under a lot of pressure, so how did that effect things, and how did Dream’s presence change that? And uh, gladiators reactions to reading the diary? Also, did they get caught reading it, or? And how did everyone in general react to the pictures? The fishermen may have taken the latter, but how did they feel about seeing Ranbob before Dream came into the picture?

3: I tell it like it is, glad to hear it’s made you laugh though. And uh, oh boy. On one hand, I definitely shouldn’t laugh at stabbing and possible starvation. One the other. Ran’s reaction. Ranbob being threatened with Benjamin. Is he often threatened with Benjamin? What exactly happens if Benjamin is told? Will Raq be causing future problems? Is Ran happy to be on the road again?

4: That sucks. Did the gladiators witness it first hand, or did the fishermen kind of realize what was happening and split off for a bit? Reactions to either seeing or hearing this happen?

5: Ranbob’s reaction to this? Heck, all of the fishermen’s reactions?

6: As he should. If he ever starts looking even slightly thin again, Benjamin needs to jump into immediate action! Also, give him a blanket and warm drink, please? Please, he needs it, they all do. 

7: So not too bad, that’s good. Charles was the one, huh? Interesting. Does Ranbob like having it back? And conflicting emotions, hmm? What would those emotions be? Does anyone ever notice the nickname makes him mad? 

8: So the gladiators consider that their big approval? Why’s that? Like obviously, they helped break it up, but was it something particular? Did they get between the two? Jump into the arena? What?

9: A warning of Mizu...there’s something awfully tragic about that. 

10: Sounds interesting! In what way would they be able to help? 

11: Scattered about, hm? So Ranbob knows about Ranboo’s memory book? Did Dream tell him, or did Mizu have a copy, or? And yay, Ranbob finally gets a hug! Most wonderful! Sad Ran doesn’t succeed in murder, but meh. Always next time, I suppose.

12: You...you were really going for my heart when you wrote this, weren’t you? Um, first of all, ouch. Second of all, also ouch. That’s all I’ve got for you right now. Just, ouch, Anon. Ouch.

[snowdice]

Road Trips and Missing Persons (Part 5)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Virgil, Virgil & Deceit, Logan & Patton, Emile & Remy

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Deceit, Remus, Roman, Logan, Emile, Remy

Summary: Patton was just getting groceries. The next thing he knew, there was a knife at his throat and he was an unwilling uber driver. Virgil’s on the run after the murder of his dad, and it’s not just his paranoia that’s telling him he’s being chased down. He has to get somewhere safe, somewhere he can trust, and all he has is a couple of stories from his dad and a name: “Green Bellow Foods and Dispensary.”

Notes: Secret Agents AU, knives, carjacking, kidnapping, murder mentioned, guns mentioned, pepper spray, blood mentioned, drugs mentioned (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve affectionately named it the Goblin Brain Fic because it’s helping my brain actually get motivated for studying. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 My Master Post

Emile hummed a quick tune as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot near his apartment. He’d just finished his last session of the day with Kai and Remy had asked that he watch Virgil this evening after work and possibly this weekend, so Emile was picking up something to cook for dinner before heading over there. He was going to grab ingredients to make Virgil’s favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs (well his actual favorite dinner was pineapple pizza from the local pizza joint, but Emile wanted to serve the boy something at least somewhat healthy for once in his life.)

That in mind, he went straight to the pasta aisle. While contemplating which of the spaghetti noodles he should grab, he noticed a man with a cart also perusing the aisle. He glanced at the contents of the man’s cart. “That’s a lot of cheese there friendo,” he commented.

��I’m trying to make homemade macaroni and cheese,” the man divulged with a smile.

“That’s always fun,” Emile replied, smiling back himself.

“I’ve never done it before. Do you have any suggestions for noodles?”

“Hmm… how about shell ones?”

“Ooo, like the boxed Velveeta shell macaroni, but better!” He enthused. “Aw! They have mini ones!” He snatched the box excitedly. “They’re so cute!”

“They are,” Emile agreed as he finally selected the whole wheat store brand spaghetti and slid it into his cart.

“Thanks for the suggestion! Have a nice day,” the man said and turned to leave.

“Bye!” Emile called after him.

He then continued on his quest, grabbing pasta sauce and a lot of fresh vegetables to sneak into the canned sauce as well as to leave in his brother’s home with the hopes that either his brother or his nephew might actually eat something healthy for once if it was right there. (Doubtful, but Emile could hope.)

He then spent an inordinate amount of time, debating which popcorn to get. Emile was thinking tonight would be a good night for movies with Virgil, and Virgil’s favorite snack was popcorn. He really should get the less buttery one, but he knew that Virgil liked buttery popcorn more. Perhaps he should compromise and get plain popcorn, but that one healthier ranch flavored powder topping that he liked. Decided, he grabbed the popcorn and the topping and went to exit the snack food aisle. “Hey,” a man with a mustache drew his attention away from his task. “My friend lost his little brother in the store. Have you seen a younger teenager walking alone around here? We think he might have gone to the snack food aisle.

Emile frowned. “Nope I haven’t seen anyone. I hope you find him soon.”

 “Thanks,” the man said already distracted with looking around again.

“Maybe try the front desk,” Emile suggested. “They could call over the intercom.”

“My brother’s already there,” the man replied waiving the suggestion off. “But thanks.”

“Well good luck!” Emile said as the man walked away towards the back of the store.

Gee, it took him almost 40 minutes to get groceries, he realized when he glanced at his phone in the checkout aisle. He shouldn’t let himself get that distracted.

Once he’d paid for the groceries, he took everything to his car and shoved them in the backseat. Right as he was about to stick the key in the ignition, he got a text message from his secretary.

‘Kai forgot his phone in your couch again, but your office is locked. Are you able to swing by really quick to let him in?’

He texted back ‘Sure! I’ll be there in 5.’ He wasn’t going to keep Kai away from his phone for the night and it wasn’t like the groceries he’d grabbed were extremely time sensitive. So, he drove back to the office.

Kai seemed thankful for his willingness to drive all the way back even if his ‘thank you’ was rather distracted as he was already typing something on his phone the moment after Emile handed it back to him.

He said goodbye to Kai and to his secretary and hopped back into his car intending to drive to Remy’s house. He’d just started the car when his phone started to ring.

“Yello,” he said cheerfully.

“Emile,” the serious voice greeted on the other end of the line. “This is Logan Sanders.”

Emile sobered immediately. “Hi Logan. Is something wrong? Do you have a patient for me?”

“No, actually,” Logan said. “It’s… about your brother.”

Emile froze. “What about my brother?” he asked. “Remy is on light duty.”

“He was yes,” Logan said. “However, there was a complication.”

“What type of complication?” Emile said and a bit of anger came to his tone unbidden.

“He was specifically targeted,” Logan said, and despite the calm way he spoke, Emile could detect the distress in his tone. “I’m very sorry, but he’s dead.”

“Oh, god. What about Virgil?”

“That’s the other thing,” Logan continued. “As soon as I heard of Mr. Gates death, I dispatched an agent to his home for protection, but when he arrived, his son was not there. There were signs of a break-in, but the perpetrator’s car was still there, and my agent believes Virgil fled the scene and was followed on foot. My agent is currently searching for him…”

“There’s a ‘but,’” Emile concluded.

There was a slight pause, just enough to tell Emile he wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he was pretending to be. “I haven’t heard from that specific agent in over half an hour.”

“Okay,” Emile gulped, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. There were hundreds of explanations for that, but many of them were bad. “Okay. I’ll go look myself since I know him and where he might go. I’ll,” his voice cracked a bit. “Call you if I find anything.”

“Alright, and I’ll…” but whatever Logan was going to say was lost as a hand touched Emile’s shoulder.

Emile screamed and tossed his phone as he accidently slammed his elbow into the car horn making it blare.

“Calm down! It’s just me,” said a voice.

“Frickin Frozone shitake mushrooms terrible tigger fish paste and cabbages, Remington!”

“You could curse like a normal person, Emile.”

“And you could not break into my car like a normal person,” Emile shot back turning around in his seat to face his older brother. “I’ll presume you’re not dead then.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” he asked.

Violence is never the answer. At least that’s what he told his patients. Emile punched his shoulder the best he could from this angle. It clearly didn’t hit too hard as Remy just laughed.

“Sorry, Em,” he said reaching forward to ruffle his hair. Emile slapped him away.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Mega Bitch Ex decided she wanted me shot in the head and I decided I didn’t want that.”

“What does that mean?” Emile asked.

“It means,” Remy answered. “I faked my own death and while she thought I was dead,” he dug something out of his pocket and dangled it in front of him. It was a flash drive. “I stole this.”

“What is it?”

“Super-secret spy business.”

“Remy.”

“All that matters is she really shouldn’t have it and Logan will be very happy I got it away from her.”

“Speaking of Logan…” Emile had dropped his phone when Remy had surprised him, and the call had ended. He picked up the phone. “I should call him back.”

The phone was slapped out of his hand the second his picked it up.

“What the kriffing kriff Remy?”

“Please just say fuck. I beg of you,” Remy groaned. The phone starting ringing again from its place on the floor. Doubtlessly it was Logan since the last thing he’d heard was Emile screaming like he was being murdered.

“I need to answer that, Remy,” Emile said with a frown.

“You can’t. It’s too risky.”

“You literally just said you stole it for Logan. Why can’t I just answer the phone, say Remy’s fine actually, and he has a super-secret spy flash drive to give to you?”

“Because you don’t say shit like that over the telephone,” Remy told him while starting to wiggle his way into the front seat. “We’re going to take this thing to Logan in person and no one can know I’m alive until then.”

“I know you’re alive,” Emile pointed out.

Remy grabbed Emile’s phone when it stopped ringing and hit the power button to turn it off. He stuck it into his pocket. “Family doesn’t count,” Remy said. “…Also, I needed a ride.”

“Are you really going to keep my phone hostage this whole time and also what happened to your car?”

“It… uh… blew up,” Remy said. Emile stared at him blankly. “Yeah… so, anyway.”

“What do you mean it blew up?” Emile asked.

“I said ‘anyway.’”

“Saying ‘anyway’ doesn’t mean I just magically forget what you just said.”

Remy waved that off. “Anyway,” he said again. “We’ll have to pick up Virgil and … do something with him. I’m not leaving him home alone during this.”

“Right. I assume since you’re not dead that Virgil isn’t actually missing,” Emile concluded.

But instead of agreeing and telling Emile where Virgil was to go pick him up, there was silence. “Virgil is what?”

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 6

[marvel-lucy]

The Fall, chapter 18

So, I last wrote a chapter of this 14 months ago..... that’s not a hiatus, that’s a lifetime!

Anyway, let’s see if I can remember how to even make Tumblr work. Here’s a chapter. Nothing happens in it, so it’s pretty self-indulgent, but I’m hoping it’ll remind me how to put words together and I can finish this damn fic! Complete story Masterlist is here

That evening, as she rubbed cream into the sun-pinked patches on her face, she watched herself in the mirror, for the first time in a long time. She looked healthier than she had for a long time, the result of eating well, drinking less, relaxing in the sun. There were lines that she knew would never fade, frown lines and grief lines, but she no longer looked like a woman lost in her own mind. She frowned at her reflection, wondering if she deserved to look well, but the sorrow had receded a little today and the guilt didn’t bite as hard as it once had.

She slept well, drowsy with sunshine and relaxation, and woke without nightmares again.  Pulling back the curtain, the spring sun shone on the peace lily on the sill, and she saw it was starting to flower, a white bud peeking out from the leaves.

It didn’t even occur to her now not to go to the Tower. The routine of days spent with soldiers and assassins was a world away from normality, and it couldn’t last. Now that grief was clearing again, she knew she should find a job, insurance money and savings being worn down even on her cheap apartment, but it felt like make-believe to get into a car driven by a superhero, to ride an elevator to the top floor of a skyscraper built by a billionaire, to spend the day hiding an infatuation with a man older than her father. She felt herself smile at the ridiculousness of it all, as she saw a car pull up below.

Heading downstairs and opening the car door, she was startled not to see Steve’s blond head, but messy dark hair and a quiet smile that tugged at her heart.

‘You do not know how much I had to argue with Steve that I was OK to drive,’ he grinned, adding ‘In the end I just took the keys and left while he was on the phone. I’ve got eight missed calls from him so far, so I’ve turned my cell off now.’ His smile was splitting his face, and she felt a rush from seeing it, guessing that the two men’s relationship had always been one of teasing as much as it was of love.

‘I just needed to get out of there. I was feeling pent up and fidgety and I was probably going to explode at Clint’s mess, or Natasha’s snark, or being mollycoddled, if I stayed there for any longer. So let’s just go somewhere.’

He pulled out into the traffic as he spoke, setting off with a direction in mind, but not telling her where they were going. She watched him drive, his flesh arm resting on his lap, metal arm gripping the wheel, the plates flexing and shifting as he moved.  Pausing in the traffic for lights to change, he glanced over at her, and saw where she was looking. He felt flustered, wished he’d not put his jacket on the back seat, tried to pull his sleeve down over his elbow, but it was too tight to do easily.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t staring; I was just thinking how beautiful it was. That probably sounds stupid, I know you’d prefer your own arm, but, as a thing, it’s… beautiful.’

He looked over at her again in surprise, stopped tugging at his sleeve, and glanced at his arm as if somehow it might have been replaced with something else – a marble carving, a painting – but it was the same metal arm he’d always had. As the traffic started off again, he smiled slightly, it felt good to be with someone who saw things differently, who saw beauty where he saw a weapon.  He reached out, squeezed her fingers for a moment, silently.

When he parked the car, and she realised where they were, he tensed up for a moment, afraid that he’d made the wrong call, then she turned to him with a huge grin, and he relaxed, joined her in smiling.

‘I haven’t been here in years! It’s beautiful here in the spring, the cherries, and the daffodils, and…’. She carried on talking as they climbed out of the car, her eyes lighting up, arms gesturing, and he felt himself puff up with pride that he did this, he put the smile back on her face.  As they walked towards the entrance, emboldened by her enthusiasm, he took her hand, tucked it inside his arm, felt himself walking tall as if this was 70 years earlier and he was taking his girl out for the day.  As he paid for their tickets, she kept her hand on his arm, and for a moment, he felt her fingers tighten, and another smile broke on his face.

They walked the paths in the Botanical Garden, led by her, as she talked about the plants. He didn’t remember a single thing she told him, but as he watched her face light up, he knew he’d made the right choice, even as his still-healing body started to make its presence felt.  It wasn’t until a sudden pain in his head made him grunt, that she realised he’d been hiding how he felt.

‘Oh god Bucky, I’m sorry, I’ve been gabbling on and you’re not well, you’ve barely been out of hospital a week,’ she pulled him towards a bench as she spoke, and he sank into it more gratefully than he’d realised, the pain now rapidly spreading around his head. He rubbed his forehead, trying to pretend everything was OK, but she could see from the way he held himself that it was all a pretence.

‘I had this whole thing planned, was gonna buy you lunch, get us some icecreams, sit in the sun…’ he paused for a moment and she could see him wincing, eyes screwed shut with pain.

‘It’s OK Buck, we can do it another time. This was perfect, let’s get you back to the car,’ she helped him up, her arm around his waist for support now and they slowly made their way back, but she could tell from the way his shoulders dropped, and how quietly he sat in the passenger seat as they drove back, that inside his head he was condemning himself for failing.

Back at the Tower, he directed her to the underground parking entrance, then quietly got out, his head hanging down, teeth gritted, as they made their way to the elevator. As they were carried silently upwards, he suddenly moved, resting his hand lightly on her side as he spoke.

‘I’m sorry, I thought I’d be OK, I really wanted to just, be with you. Like normal people. Not like I’m a broken old man who can’t go out in public. Not like I’m a soldier who has to be patched up and sent back out again, but just like… I’m a person.’ He didn’t meet her eyes, watching the floor numbers rising as they moved up the Tower instead.

She leant in, resting her head on his chest, her hands sliding up his back before she could stop herself, serum-fed muscles hot under his shirt, surprised at her own boldness.

‘It was perfect Bucky. You did good.’ She looked up at him, face greyed with pain, and saw how much he needed to feel like more than an assassin, more than a danger, or a weapon, or an invalid. He needed to feel that there was more to life than repaying his debt, righting his wrongs, fighting Steve’s wars.  She stretched up, and kissed him softly, as the doors opened.

----

@melconnor2007 @emilyevanston @kittyslove @badassbaker @phoenix21love @lbouvet  @bellenuit45 @prplprincez  @gingerrootknits @pineapplebooboo @feelmyroarrrr @avengerofyourheart @eyeofdionysus @hellomissmabel @learisa @mitra-k-w @imhereforbvcky @shaddixlife @iwillbeinmynest @amrita31199 @whatsbetterthanfantasy @pixierox101 @edward-lover18 @madcheshire89 @heartfulloffandoms @chipilerendi @kenya-17 @mckorni32843 @amandarosemire @rda89 @nyxveracity @sea040561 @mrsalh32611 @ruinerofcheese @callmebucky-doll @vintagepigeon @bubbasmom @sassycanoodler @ladylorelitany @natcad @thisismysecrethappyplace @mywinterwolf

[telebeast]

An Unwanted Gift (Mini Portal Fic)

My gift for @fallingthroughaperture for the Portal Secret Santa, organized by @portal-secret-santa! I’m sorry this is sort of late. I hope it’s not too short and it’s fun enough to satisfy! If you don’t mind, I was thinking of posting it to AO3 later.

This thing wasn’t on her Christmas list. In her opinion, the oven was fine, the fridge was alright, the radio was on thin ice, but this? This is too far.

Chell glared across the kitchen at the device. It sat, smugly, upon her countertop, taking up space. Its clean white panelling, glossy window and bright yellow display made her want it gone. The bright red bow stuck on top felt like an insult. It seemed to challenge her. ‘Go ahead,’ it said, ‘toss me out, waste a perfectly good gift, why don’t you? Show the world how ruthless you are. No kitchen appliance will be safe from Chell the destroyer’. It was silly. Really, she knew that. There was no way a simple device would pose a threat, even with an array of over the top modern features, from timers to heat sensors to microphones. Somehow, radio waves were involved somewhere. And yes, all this was supposedly supposed to make it a superior cooking device, but why? What kitchen appliance company nowadays would think that installing random stuff into these things would be an efficient use of money?

“You’ve been glaring at the microwave Joe got us for sixteen minutes now.” Her attention shot to the source of the noise, relaxing when she recognized a friend. He stood in the doorway, sipping at a cup of coffee. She and Doug had been housemates since their escape, and though his company was wanted (needed), she couldn’t help being a bit jumpy sometimes. It was nice, having him around. He was much cleaner and healthier nowadays and looked just as well as someone who hadn't spent ungodly amounts of time hiding in the walls of a laboratory eating god knows what and getting less than the recommended amount of sunlight. He was also wearing a rather tacky holiday sweater. It had the faces of famous artists on it and it looked terrible. He liked it.

So, he joined Chell on the floor, observing the device. The device, one could say, observed them back. Maybe.

“Logically speaking, there’s no reason why She would be connected to this thing,” He continued, “but it’s been giving me the creeps ever since Joe dropped it off. Did we ever make microwaves? I don’t see why we would. I wouldn’t trust Aperture to manufacture anything related to food, not after the accident with the gels and the high power blender... So… Hm. I suppose I can’t rationalize my dislike for the thing.” Chell watched Doug lean back against the wall, tearing his eyes away from the mechanical trespasser. “Our minds tell lies about false threats,” He said.

She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. It was a silly issue, they both knew that. A microwave can’t control your life, try to kill you, or even bully you about your lack of parents. It’s silly. And yet, Chell had stood up and grabbed a cooking mallet from a nearby cutting board. She stood there, weapon in hand, standing over the thing that had been tormenting her for a full fifteen minutes.

“If you’re going to smash it,” Doug said, curling up around his coffee and screwing his eyes shut, “Do it outside? The glass, I don’t want it to get...”

She was ready. Ready to vanquish Her presence from her house. She raised the mallet and—

Bonk.

It tapped lightly against the clean white metal.

Doug opened an eye, watching her movements. The former test subject was walking away, pouring milk into a mug, adding something from a packet…

The mug was placed in the microwave, which Chell slammed forcefully.

“I’m making peppermint cocoa and you can’t stop me.” The statement was clear, and loud, and directed at the microwave. She set the time and started it. “...Chell?”

“Bet it sucks, not being able to drink cocoa, huh?”

“Uh, Chell?”

“Well too bad. Would you look at that? Poor robot is so powerful but can’t even have herself a tasty winter beverage. If you want some, you gotta come here,” She smiled. This was the most talkative she’d been in days. “Oh wait, you can’t. Maybe I’ll just tell you how good it tastes.”

“Chell, what are you doing?”

The microwave went ding, she removed her drink and turned to Doug.

“Teasing. It’s finally my turn.” “But, she can’t actually, logically be—”

“Close as I’ll get. My turn.” She grinned, taking a big sip.

~~~

Deep underground, someone was very, very unimpressed.

“I don’t even like peppermint.”

[kerfufflewatch]

PMW 1: Sharing a Bed

We’re doing the Peapod McHanzo Week up in here and we’re gonna start with one of the best fucking tropes in existence. 

I’m TENTATIVELY gonna try to make these a series . . . we’ll see how that goes. Tomorrow’s AU is already going to be the most tentative idea of an AU the world’s ever seen.

Anyway. 

Day 2 >>

---

9:37 PM

“It does not bother me,” Hanzo says. He, like McCree, is staring down the single, tiny, somewhat beaten-up bed in the corner of their awful motel room. The sheets look clean and mostly soft, at the least, but McCree’s spent enough nights in motels like this to know when a bed is passable and when it’s just covered up by some nice linens. This is the latter.

McCree shrugs his shoulders. “Me neither,” he says, lying boldly. Don’t get him wrong, this would hardly be the first time he’s shared a bed with someone he worked with--hell, he had to with Genji on more than one occasion, back in their Blackwatch days. You had to fit in tight spaces with people you worked with sometimes, and this was no exception.

The problem was that McCree hadn’t spent four months quietly and desperately pining after any of his coworkers before, working himself up to the point where if he shared a bed with them and made any sort of physical contact, he might actually burst into flames from sheer repressed want. Hanzo was different in that McCree had done exactly that.

He doesn’t say any of that, because that would be insanity. And there is nothing else in this god-forsaken motel to sleep on that isn’t the floor, and the kind of pain that’ll leave him in just isn’t worth it, so he’ll just have to suck it up and be an adult about the whole thing.

McCree kicks off his boots, sheds his gear, drops his serape atop the pile, and flops onto the side of the bed closest to the wall. Hanzo is more organized, carefully folding his coat and placing it atop his bag, his boots set beside them precisely, before tucking himself into the other side of the bed. It’s not a small bed, but it’s certainly no queen either, and the curve of Hanzo’s back brushes against McCree’s as he settles.

There’s a faint blue glow from somewhere behind McCree. Hanzo likes to browse the internet on his phone before he sleeps. McCree stares at the wall.

--

10:05 PM

McCree hears a soft swear behind him. The blue glow abruptly shuts off, and there is a faint clatter as Hanzo sets his phone on the bedside table.

“Told you it ain’t good for you to do that,” McCree says mildly.

“Shut up.”

Well, it’s not like it’s any healthier to stay awake because all you can think about is the warmth of your friend’s body beside yours.

10:56 PM

Hanzo fell asleep some forty-five minutes ago. He sleeps lightly, but is as silent as the dead; McCree had been briefly concerned that Hanzo had simply stopped breathing until he glanced over his shoulder to confirm that yes, Hanzo was in fact still alive.

McCree glares at the wall, though it is not the wall’s fault he cannot sleep. He’s always had a talent for sleeping anywhere, as long as he felt safe enough--and who wouldn’t feel safe next to a highly trained ex-assassin?--and there are currently no nightmares or anything else to keep him awake, so he does not understand why tonight is so difficult. Even the novelty of Hanzo next to him has worn off some.

Nightmares. Shit. If he has one while he’s lying in bed next to Hanzo, he’ll never live it down.

10:57 PM

Oh god what if he has a dream about Hanzo.

10:59 PM

McCree doesn’t completely manage to convince himself that he won’t dream about something mortifying--one way or the other--but his body is exhausted, and his eyes burn, and if he doesn’t get some sleep soon he might actually kill someone. He’ll just have to hope his brain doesn’t betray him any more tonight than it usually does, and deal with the consequences in the morning.

His shoulder aches fiercely from holding his weight for the last hour and some. He’s resisted turning over to his other side because that would mean facing Hanzo, but he’s at his wit’s end.

McCree very carefully shifts to his other side, stifling a groan of relief as it takes the weight off his aching shoulder, and resettles. Hanzo does not wake, but he does make a tiny noise and attempt to burrow deeper into his pillow.

McCree means to close his eyes and try to sleep again, but he finds his gaze riveted to Hanzo instead. A sliver of light from a lamp outside creeps through the curtains, just enough to illuminate Hanzo’s face in pale white and soften his usually sharp features. His hair is a mess, a spray of dark locks on the pillow with several strands falling sloppily in his face. He has the blanket pulled up so tight over his shoulders that McCree can’t even see anything below the tip of his nose.

McCree’s fingers twitch with the urge to smooth Hanzo’s hair from his face.

He grips a fistful of blanket and closes his eyes instead.

12:38 AM

McCree must doze off at some point, because time passes too quickly for him to have been awake for the last hour and some minutes, but it scarcely feels like sleep. Something warm is pressing into his chest. He doesn’t think much of it at first, hoping that he can catch the tail end of his sleep before it escapes him entirely.

Then he realizes, and he opens his eyes.

Hanzo shifted closer at some point, and now he is snugly fit into the curve of McCree’s body, his forehead resting gently against McCree’s chest. He’s not actively cuddling McCree or anything. Must have rolled over in his sleep, instinctively seeking out warmth while unaware of its source. McCree could kiss the top of his head, if he wanted to. He can definitely catch the faint scent of Hanzo’s apple shampoo, faded from the day but nonetheless noticeable just because of how close they are.

McCree should move.

But he might wake up Hanzo if he tries to move now.

He awkwardly tucks his arm between their bodies--not embracing Hanzo, tempting as that may be--and goes back to sleep.

2:22 AM

McCree wakes up again, though it is a bleary, half-asleep sort of wakefulness. Hanzo is completely pressed into him now, down to having his head tucked under McCree’s chin, and McCree’s somehow gotten his hand on Hanzo’s ribs. They’re both at fault by this point.

He really will wake Hanzo up if he moves this time.

He ignores the ache in his chest as he drifts off again.

3:07 AM

Holy shit, he has never had to pee so badly in his entire life.

McCree finally has to get up this time, his bladder’s demands finally overriding the comfort of the bed and the joy of having Hanzo almost-but-not-really in his arms. Hanzo groans in quiet protest and his eyes flutter open as McCree extricates himself. McCree does not acknowledge him and scoots off the end of the bed.

When he returns from the bathroom, Hanzo is back on his side of the bed, close enough to the edge that he might fall off if he actually sleeps that way. McCree awkwardly climbs back into his side of the bed, hugs close to the wall, and pretends he doesn’t notice the expanse of empty mattress behind him.

5:41 AM

Hanzo’s basically spooning him now. His chest is pressed against McCree’s back, and his breath ruffles the hair at the nape of McCree’s neck, and though his arm isn’t quite wrapped around McCree’s middle, it does rest rather comfortably along his flank.

McCree doesn’t have the energy to feel guilty this time, and falls back asleep pretending that he’s allowed to have this.

6:29 AM

When McCree wakes this time, there is sunlight streaming through the crack in the curtains, and the room is lit in a warm orange glow. He feels like shit.

McCree made his way onto his back at some point, and now Hanzo’s curled up at his side, not quite tucked under his arm but with a hand resting on McCree’s chest. McCree turns his head to look at Hanzo, who still slumbers on, apparently completely unburdened by the night. He probably only woke up once, compared to McCree’s half-dozen or so. Lucky bastard.

Hanzo’s hair is even more of a mess than before, less “artistic disarray” and more simple bedhead. His lips are parted slightly, and his breath comes slow and deep, and there is definitely a small dark mark on the pillow where he drooled a bit. That should be off-putting, but all McCree can think of is leaning in just a few inches, brushing Hanzo’s hair from his face, and stealing a sleepy kiss. His stomach aches with the desire.

He is more than aware that this is the closest he will ever be to what he really wants.

A loud, musical trill sounds from the table: Hanzo’s 6:30 AM alarm. McCree screws his eyes shut and pretends to still be asleep as Hanzo grumbles beside him.

He feels the bed dip and shift as Hanzo props himself up onto an elbow, then turns over to grab his phone and shut off the alarm. The phone is dropped back onto the table unceremoniously, but instead of getting out of bed like McCree expects, Hanzo pauses. He seems to hesitate for a long moment, though McCree cannot guess why. Hanzo is not the kind of person to lay in bed when there is something to be done, and their pick-up is in less than two hours.

McCree feels the delicate touch of fingertips to his shoulder. He starts to hold his breath, then reminds himself he’s supposed to be asleep and lets it out as slow as he can manage. The touch lingers for a second, then another.

Then Hanzo’s hand grips his shoulder and shakes, once. “McCree,” Hanzo says quietly. “Wake up. We need to leave.”

Heart sinking, though he did not think it could get lower, McCree affects an annoyed groan and opens one eye. Hanzo sits above him, propped up on one arm, and he laughs a little. “I know,” he says. “But we have places to be, and I imagine you will want to eat before we are back on the shuttle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” McCree mutters, pushing himself upright. Despite the sleep he did get, exhaustion still clings to his body like a heavy drape. If he manages to get through the shower without drowning, he’ll be surprised.

Hanzo laughs again and gets to his feet, taking his warmth with him. McCree watches blearily as Hanzo gathers his things and disappears into the en suite bathroom, blissfully unaware of the awful night he caused McCree.

McCree looks at the empty bed beside him. He considers trying to get another ten minutes of sleep while Hanzo is in the shower, but knows there’s no point. He’ll try to get a nap on the shuttle, he supposes. Hanzo probably won’t so much as sit next to him on the flight back.

He rubs the phantom ache under his sternum as he plants his feet on the floor.

On with the day, then.

[seokminfools]

Minnie

Word count : 3349

Genre : Fluff, a disgusting amount of it

--

The sun was just starting to hide behind the clouds. They weren’t dark though, just big, thick clouds, almost like cotton balls filling up the sky. The air was cool as it blew against my cheek, tiny cloud forming with each exhale. I gripped the sling of my bag closer to me, my feet kicking a few pebbles on the pavement, occasionally stepping on dried orange leaves, making a crunching sound. The trees were painted orange and the streets were covered in leaves. My neighbor was out early in the morning with his blower, trying to rid of the fallen leaves that ended up by their porch. I smiled; it was finally my favorite season.

I turned around the block and bent down by the bushes. The little tent set up behind it was still intact, and I could hear the soft purrs coming out from it. This place was a regular stop over, no matter how late I would be for my errands, I would make sure to always pass by. I took the jar from my bag and started spilling out its contents. Soon enough, my little friend came out from her hideout and came out to greet me. She rubbed her head on my leg and started purring while I pet her head. I smiled warmly at her, “You’re getting big, Minnie.” She meowed and my smile widened. I might just break my landlord’s house rules just to bring her home. Somewhere between just wanting to protect her from the rain that one night, to checking up on her once every few weeks, I’ve fallen in love with her. She trusts me now, too that she would follow me all the way to the café sometimes. It wasn’t far, so I would allow her to. I noticed something new about her; she was wearing a collar. “Oh? Who got this for you, Minnie?” My fingers ran through the faux pink leather, to the cool metal pendant that hung by her neck. I smiled when I saw what was engraved on it. Minnie. I stood up from where I was crouching and gave Minnie one last pet before heading towards my destination. I pushed the glass door, ignoring the Sorry we’re CLOSED signed that hung on it. The bell chimed above my head, causing the ruckus by the back to halt. A head peaked out from the kitchen to call to whoever came in hours before the opening time.

“Sorry we’re not open ye—Oh it’s just you!” He stopped midsentence and with a smile and his head disappeared back into the room. I rolled my eyes playfully before heading towards the kitchen. He was dusting his hands off of flour and wiped his hands on his blue apron, which was already more than covered by flour. I tossed him a fresh towel from the counter by the door and he caught it swiftly. He smiled at me and I returned one back toward him. His cheek had frosting smeared on it and I giggled. He turned his head sideways in confusion which caused me to giggle even more. I pointed at my own cheek and he touched his, mirroring my action. He quickly caught on what got me amused and immediately wiped it off. My giggles died down and was replaced by a fond smile instead. He rolled his eyes and went back outside, me trailing after him.

“what’s gotten you so giddy this morning? You’re extra smiley today.” He said while his back was turned against me. I slid on one of the high chairs—so high that I swung my feet while on it—in front of the cashier counter and rested my chin on my palms.

“Oh I don’t know,” I started, but stopped, waiting for his reaction. When I didn’t continue, he looked up from making my drink to raise an eyebrow at me. He covered the teacup with a saucer and turned the timer on. He then turned to face me and leaned back on the marbled counter behind him, crossing his arms while waiting expectantly. I looked down at my hands and fiddled with them, suppressing a knowing smirk creeping up my cheeks. “Someone got Minnie a collar.” My head stayed lowered but I sneaked a look at him. He turned his gaze away from me, and even though the lighting was dim—no lights were tuned on and the only source of lighting was the sunlight seeping through the glass walls—I saw a slight blush seeming to creep up his cheeks. “At first I thought someone finally decided to adopt her but you’ll never guess what I saw.” I finally raised my head to look at him and he did the same. “What?” He asked.

“They knew Minnie’s name. It was engraved on the pendant! I wonder who gave it to her?” I smiled, knowing very well who Minnie got it from. Before he could answer, the timer for the tea went off and he turned around—not fast enough for me to miss his ears turning red—to finish preparing my usual. When he turned back around, I stifled a laugh and he was avoiding to meet my gaze.

“Here’s your usual. Rose hibiscus tea and a grilled chicken sandwich. You can leave now.” He said, handing me the paper bag and heading back to the kitchen, in an attempt to run away. I caught his sleeve and decided to tease him a bit more. He turned around and let out an exasperated sigh. I checked my watch and saw that I had a lot of time before having to go to work. “Nah, I think I’ll eat my order here. I have a lot of time right now.” He groaned in response and headed toward the kitchen again. I laughed and followed him again towards the back, sipping on my tea. Ah, warmth. When I got back into the kitchen he was already starting to put the dough in the ovens and he glared at me when I entered his line of vision.

“Why are you so embarrassed about getting Minnie a collar?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I also know you’ve been letting Minnie sleep inside the café at night before you close. I also saw the bag of cat food under the cashier.” I giggled, remembering how much healthier Minnie now looked compared to when I first got her. “She’s gotten a lot fatter, you know.” He turned around to face me and I tried hard to suppress my laughter. It seemed like all of the blood in is body rushed to his ears. They were so bright; it was a sight to see. It was cute. He walked past me, exiting the kitchen again. I sipped my tea again while waiting him to come back, and before I got too bored, he came back in.

“I saw you last week looking at collars for Minnie.” He started, and now it was my blood’s turn to rush to my cheeks. “You didn’t get them though because we both knew your landlord wouldn’t allow it.” I nodded my head sadly at his statement. “I don’t know if you knew but I actually know your landlord. He comes by here every 3’o clock-ish,” I set down my tea on the counter behind me and crossed my arms. “One afternoon, it started raining really badly and I ran outside to pick up Minnie and bring her inside the café because I’ve also grown quite fond of Minnie,” He said, a small smile creeping up his face. “When he came in, I had just finished setting up Minnie’s corner and he saw her. At first he kept glaring at her, but when Minnie purred while rubbing her head on his leg, it’s like, he fell in love.” I laughed at the last part.

“Everyone falls in love with Minnie.” I tried to be subtle about my statement, but the warmth creeping up my ears would probably tell him otherwise. “So, what happened?”

“I may or may not have mentioned that you technically own Minnie and just can’t bring her home because your landlord wouldn’t allow it and he may or may not have told me to tell you that you’re allowed to bring Minnie home now, which was the reason I got her the collar and I was hoping you wouldn’t mention it yet because I wanted to buy Minnie a bed before telling you this.” He quickly said the last parts I almost didn’t catch it. But I did, and my eyes widened and I let out a squeal. Before I even knew I was doing, I was already in his arms, my own wrapping around his neck and he was giggling by my crook of my neck. I loosened my arms around his neck to look at his face to see if he was serious. Instead, he just smiled really widely, his full set of teeth showing and his eyes disappearing into small slits on his face. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck again and started jumping excitedly while still being held captive in his arms. His laughter kept ringing in my ears and I kept mumbling a train of thank you thank you thank you thank you you’re the absolute best oh my god thank you.

He grabbed my waist to calm me down and it did. I stopped jumping around in his arms and just stared into his eyes, my smile mirroring his. “Thank you. I wouldn’t ever have the courage to ask for permission to keep Minnie.”

 “Happy birthday.” He smiled, pulling out a small velvet box out of his apron pocket. My hands went to cover my mouth and when he saw my reaction he quickly added, “Don’t worry it’s not a ring. I’m not proposing.” I rolled my eyes and hit his arm and he cowered, massaging his arm. “Ah! I get you a gift and I get abused!” I rolled my eyes again and took the box from his hands. It was a silver necklace with a small circular locket. Minnie engraved on the outside and there was a picture of Minnie on the inside. My eyes threatened to spill with tears, when I looked up to him.

“Oh…don’t you like it?” He asked, his eyes turning into one with concern. I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around his waist. I could tell that he felt confused with the sudden attack of physical affection but he slowly wrapped his arms around me, too. He started stroking my hair as I buried my face into his chest.

“Dumbass…I love it. Thank you.” He gasped when I called him a dumbass but he quickly laughed in response. “I’m glad you liked it. I was worried you wouldn’t because you don’t seem to wear necklaces a lot.” I lifted my face from his chest to look at him.

“You’re the best, Minnie.” I said quickly, before returning my face into the burrows of his chest. He swayed us both from side to side, his laughter rumbling on his chest. “You only say that when I get you something.” I hit his chest softly and he yelled an over dramatic ow! in response. I tightened my arms around his waist and closed my eyes, trying to calm my own heart at how happy I felt.

“Thank you, Minnie. I love you.” I whispered, so quietly I wasn’t sure if he heard it at first, but the quickening of his heartbeat told me that he did in fact, hear it.

 -

 “I do have one question though,” He started as he dropped the box on the carpet. He sat down in front of the box. He opened it and he started taking out its contents. A big sack of cat litter, a scratch post, an abundance of toys ranging from automatic mice to feathers for Minnie to play with. I sat down in front of him, grabbing the sack of litter and pouring its contents on to the tray. “Why did you name Minnie…Minnie?” I took a glance at him and he was fiddling with one of the cat toys, which made me smile fondly at him. I glanced over where Minnie was snoring on her new bed that we picked up just a few hours before we brought her home. I then returned my gaze at him. The resemblance was really…uncanny. They both had short brown curly hair, brown eyes, cute tall little noses and they both had very sweet personalities. I smiled to myself, standing up and started setting up the cat’s litter place.

“You two look alike.” I told him nonchalantly. I felt his eyes boring at my back and footsteps started following me. “I look like a…cat?” He asked and even without turning back to face him, I knew his head was cocked to the side, a habit he never really grew out of since we were kids.

“Stop pouting, Minnie. It’s not something negative.” I let out a soft chuckle.

“Move it by the stairs so it won’t stink up the house when she uses it.” He said and I mentally agreed, picking up the box and moving it by the staircase, him still trailing behind me quietly. I smiled to myself. See? Just like Minnie. I turned around to face him when I was done and I was right, he had his head cocked to the side, his brows almost meeting at the center and a small pout playing at his lips. “This is exactly why I named Minnie after you.” I said and his brows furrowed even further.

“I don’t get it.” I jumped to lay down on the couch and he followed right after me, lying down by the other end of the sofa. I fiddled with the locket of the necklace for a bit while staring at the ceiling. I bit my lip and opened the locket. A picture of him when he was seventeen was on the right, and a picture of Minnie on the left. A warm explosion took place in my chest when I saw the name Minnie carved on the outside of the locket.

“Hey Seokmin,” I started. I was feeling my chest tightening and I closed my eyes while still facing up the ceiling, not having the courage to look at him straight in the eye. “I love you.” I whispered. He scooted closer, just the tiniest bit. Just close enough that our knees were touching.

“I love you too, you know.” My breathing hitched. I used my arm to cover my eyes. Was I actually doing this? Right now? “No Minnie,” I started, feeling my throat closing up, this familiar feeling of the tightening in my chest revisiting me. “I think,” I paused, using my other arm to overlap the one covering my eyes, and play with my hair, a nervous habit. “I think I really love you, Minnie.” I choked the words out. I felt his hand making contact with mine and I jumped in surprise. I couldn’t see because of my arm blocking my vision but, I could feel like warmth radiating off me. When did he get this close? I felt his palms on my elbows and the next thing I knew; he was hoisting me into a sitting position. I kept my head down, a curtain of hair blocking my face. I placed my hands in front of me, fiddling with them. He took hold of mine and I closed my eyes, feeling another eruption of warmth take place inside my chest. Jesus Christ, I thought. Just how many volcanoes are living inside of me?

He slowly pushed my hair back, tucking some of it behind my ear while I refused to look up at him. He placed a finger at my chin, gently lifting my face so I’d have no other choice but to look at him. His face was beautiful. The way the dimly lit space made him seem like he was the brightest object in the room, he was breathtaking. The way his orbs bore straight into my soul, erupting yet again, another set of volcanoes. He pursed his lips, “I love you,” He placed his hand on my cheek, the warmth of it was enough for me to melt into it. “so much.”

“You know I don’t mean it as best fr—” I started but immediately cut myself off when he rolled his eyes and placed another palm on the other side of my cheeks. “I know, you fool.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. He smiled and I just stared at him in shock.

“You mean…you love me too? As in the I-want-to-date-you type?” He laughed and the cage of butterflies was set loose on my insides and I felt lightheaded. He was so beautiful it was unfair.

“I have been, for the last fifteen years but thanks for finally noticing, I guess.” He rolled his eyes as he intertwined our hands. I stared at him with my mouth agape. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled, feeling both frustrated and relieved that I wasn’t losing my best friend but frustrated because I’ve been suppressing my feelings for nothing. All of the times I wanted to kiss him, all of the times I wanted to hold him, all of the times I wanted to tell him I loved him in this way. He shrugged in response, laying back down at the opposite end of the sofa.

“I was just waiting for you.” He said, staring at the ceiling. He was so calm, as if he expected this to happen already. On the contrary to how I was feeling, heart racing, palms sweaty, my ears ringing. “I’m not calm, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m actually freaking out right now. I didn’t think it would come this soon. I want to kiss you right now.” He confessed, and before he could even utter another word, I bent down to press my lips against his. Fuck. I thought. My lips were desperate against his, my hands making its his way to his hair as he slowly started sitting up, still not breaking contact. His hands found their way back on my cheeks and reciprocated an equal magnitude of desperation and need with his lips. I couldn’t breathe, this felt so surreal. I was kissing him. My best friend, the love of my life, my Minnie. He broke our lips apart, our foreheads touching. I was out of breath, borderline panting. He looked up at me with hooded eyes and broke into a grin. I couldn’t help myself. At this point, I was past having any form of self-control. I cupped his cheeks again and started peppering kisses all over his face. His forehead, his nose, his eyes, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. God, his lips. My lips lingered longer on his lips and he didn’t seem to mind, smiling into the kiss. I broke contact to breathe, but his hands found its way to the back of my neck and pulled me in again. I was breathless, my chest felt like it was close to exploding but I didn’t care. My lips never left his, a small smile slowly making its way to mine when I felt him smile against the kiss. He pecked my lips one last time before looking straight into my eyes. His lips were swollen, much pinker than they were a while ago. His cheeks were a nice shade of pink, too. He suddenly pulled me into a hug, causing me to end up sitting on his lap instead of awkwardly kneeling in between his legs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his neck, feeling the tears threatening to spill.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Minnie.” I pressed our foreheads together, our noses rubbing against each other, a big smile painted on both our flushed faces. Right here, in this moment, in his arms, I’ve never felt even more at home.

[petersspidey]

Road Trip

Request: YESS MY DUDE PLS WRITE A ROAD TRIP FANFIC I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER!!!!

A/N: Ahhhhh, this is a marvellous idea and lmaoooo I'm actually writing this on the plane ride home. I was only delayed for two hours sitting on the tarmac and then a nine hour flight home!!! Let’s just say, it’s been a long day. And tbh I literally would never write this on a plane (usually) but I got lucky and there’s nobody sitting on either side of me or behind me WOW so here I am, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean (actually I'm probably over France rn) writing about you guys and fucking Peter Parker.

I also decided to try and do this a different way, its one of those Headcanon posts instead

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: nada

Masterlist

The lovely Peter Parker and yourself had been best friends for quite sometime and boy were you both pining over each other. Extremely pining.

It was a lot of almost but not completely’s. Which annoyed the hell out of you. But I mean, Peter also annoyed the hell out of you.

You loved the boy, but he was needy. (Lol you love it).

You had just finished your third year of high school when you and Peter decided that you needed to go on a road trip.

Meaning that Peter begged you to take a road trip with him. By then, he had passed his driver’s test and was ready to go on the road.

In the middle of July, you and Peter climbed into May’s car and began making your way to Niagara Falls.

It was seven in the morning and Peter had pulled up in front of your building in May’s car.

Peter jumped out and grabbed your bag and threw it into the trunk, rushing back around to open the car door for you. “Good morning, Y/N,” 

“Well it looks like someone is in a good mood,” 

“Of course I'm in a good mood, i’m excited! Aren’t you excited? We’re finally going on the road trip!” 

“Yes, Peter, I’m very excited,” you laughed. 

“Ive never been Niagara Falls, what do you think it’s like? And how long until we get there? You know I'm not good on long drives,” 

“Oh my god, Peter. Okay, Niagara Falls is very nice, you’ll love it. It’s about six and a half hours but because we’ll get caught in rush hour it’ll probably be closer to eight,” you answered.

“Then let’s go,” Peter smiled, putting the car into drive, heading towards the highway.

You were not at all surprised how simultaneously prepared and unprepared Peter was for this trip.

The boy had multiple road trip playlists and a few sugary treats but that was it. You of course were the one who thought to bring water, healthier snacks, tissues, etc.

Ten minutes into the trip he started diving into his snacks

“PeTeR ItS sEvEn In ThE mOrNiNg you don’t need a fruit roll up!” 

“But Y/N, Spiderman needs his nutrients,” 

“A fRuIt RoLl Up Is NoT nUtRiCiOuS,”

Peter just looked you right in the eye and took another bite of the fruit roll up causing you to lose your fucking marbles

THis boy was going to drive you insane for the next eight hours you just knew it

“Peter why don’t you just put on one of the CD’s you made instead of just singing?” 

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like my singing?” 

“Peter Parker but put your CD on and sing along to that,”

“Will you sing with me?” 

“I don’t know? Is ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ on this playlist of yours?” 

“OH NO!”

“Peter did you actually forget the ultimate road trip song?” 

“Yes. But I can sing it for you,”

You acted annoyed with Peter but less than a minute later you were both singing at the top of your lungs

You pretended to be annoyed with Peter but you really loved him and you were actually having the time of your life

Eventually Peter turned on that playlist of his 

Turns out Don’t Stop Believing was on it

“Oh my god PEter you idiot,” 

“I FoRgOt,”

You and Peter were both idiots who were helplessly in love with each other but didn’t know

You would spend so much time just staring at the boy while he tried to focus on driving

Plot twist he knew you were looking at him

His CHEEKS TURNED BRIGHT RED EVERY TIME

You thought it was the cutest  

You were still singing along loudly to the music.

You would record it and send snaps to Ned saying you missed him  

Ned would always respond with “Bullshit you two need this time to figure everything out,”  

You tried to ask PEter what Ned meant but before Peter could answer he got distracted by a sign that said ‘Niagara Falls 350 miles’

“Peter, that’s still like five hours” 

“BuT wErE gETTING CLOSE” 

“Whatever you say, hon”

You wanting to pull over on the side of the highway to take pictures of all the scenery

“Y/N, we’re never going to make it in time if we don’t keep driving,” 

“In time for what?” 

“Just WE WON’T MAKE IT IN TIME,” 

“But Peter I want to take a picture of you next to that tree,” 

“Y/N,” 

“Peter Parker If you don’t go stand next to that tree so I can take your picture, no more fruit roll ups,” 

“But how will I survive and not starve?” 

“I have apples,” 

Peter still didn’t move

“Peter Benjamin Parker,” 

“Fine!” 

“Thank you! I love you!” 

“Yeah yeah, love you too,” he would mumble,

The picture of Peter turned out with him standing next to the tree with his arms crossed and huge pout on his face

“Peter can you please smile for me?” 

“Why would I smile after you threatened to take away my fruit roll ups?” 

“Because I want to remember this trip! Please, can you just smile for me?”

You know how Peter’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible? Anything you do is irresistible to him.

THIS BOY IS SO WHIPPED FOR YOU, YOU SIMPLY FROWN AND HES DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER

And boy you knew it too

So you frown and Peter loosens his shoulders and lets his arms fall

“No Y/N IM SORRY DON’T BE SAD YES I’LL SMILE,”

You got another picture of Peter with a big smile on his face, pointing at the tree.

“Can we get going now WE HAVE A SCHEDULE” 

“Why is this the first I'm hearing about this schedule?” 

“BEcuase it’s a surprise now get in the car,”

You both climb back In the car and set off again

“Y/N LOOK ONLY 250 MILES NOW” 

“Peter that still three and a half hours,” 

“BUT WE’RE EVEN CLOSER”

At one point you pull off the highway into a small town to get gas

The windows were rolled down and you began sneezing like crazy

“Thank you,” 

“What?” You asked Peter in between sneezes 

“I MEAN BLESS YOU” 

You were hunched over in the passenger seat, laughing your ass off in between your wild sneezes

“Can you please roll up the window Peter clearly I'm allergic to something” 

“fUCK YES SORRY”

When you stopped for gas you wanted to get out and take pictures but you knew you would just sneeze and not get any good pictures so you stayed in the car and took pictures of Peter pumping the gas without him noticing

This boy is so fucking gorgeous and the pictures turned out rather amazing despite how dirty the windows were

AND OF ALL THINGS TO TURN YOU ON PETER PUMPING GAS INTO THE CAR WAS APPARENTLY ONE OF THEM

When Peter got back in the car you were just staring at him

“What?” Peter eventually asked, confused by your staring

“Nothing. You’re just pretty is all,”

YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN PETER’S CHEEKS THAT RED

But of course this loser gained some confidence after he received your compliment

“Well if we’re talking about who’s pretty, then there’s no contest, hands down you’re the most beautiful,” 

“Peterr!” 

“I only speak the truth,” 

“Well you’re sweet spider-boy but it could just be from all the fruit roll up’s you’ve been eating,”

“Also,”

“Also?” 

“You should pump gas more often,” 

“Why….” 

“Cause you kinda looked really hot,” 

“I mean it is July the temperature are rather warm,” 

“Peter Parker you know that’s not what I meant,” 

“I know, I just like teasing you,” 

Not nice,” 

“I mean, I guess my so called hotness while pumping gas would explain why that hot blond was staring at me the entire time,” 

“wHOOO?”

Peter just laughed and didn’t answer you

This fuking boy

When you finally made it to Niagara Falls Peter was flipping excited.

You checked into your motel and then decided to go exploring

“So when do I get to find out what this surprise is?” 

“SOON” 

“Should I be worried?” 

“Shhhh Y/N, it’s a surprise I'm not going to throw you over the falls or anything,”

YOU were extremely suspicious as to what the surprise was

YOu and Peter went to the falls and you spent so long just taking pictures of Peter’s face when he first saw them

He was in absolute awe

You were so fucking in love with this boy

You kindly asked another Person to take a few pictures of you and Peter in front of the falls

They smiled and said you two made a cute couple and they snapped a few photos and gave you back your camera

“About that…” 

“About what?” 

“I also think we make a cute couple,” 

“Y/N NO SHHHH YOU’RE GOING TORUIN MY SURPRISE”

You were so confused

Did Peter just tell you to stop revealing your feeling cause IT WOUDL ‘RUIN HIS SURPRISE’

What was this boy up to  

After you spent some more time at the falls Peter dragged you down to the bottom of the falls 

“Peter what are we doing here?” 

“I BOOKED US A TOUR ON MAID OF THE MIST” 

“You did not,” 

“I did,” you smiled and gave Peter a hug.

You had been to Niagara Falls before but you had never gotten the chance to do a boat tour and Peter knew it was always something you wanted to do since you saw the episode of The Office where Jim and Pam got married on one of the boats

You were both given ponchos and you climbed on to the boat

You were kinda sad you couldn’t take your camera out cause you didn’t want to get it wet.

“So this was only half of the surprise,” Peter said 

“What? There’s more?”

Peter turned to you and just

HES SO FUCKING CUTE HIS HAIR WAS GETTING WET SO HIS CURLS WERE FLOPPY BUT THEY WERE ALL OVER THE PLACE AND UGH HES ADORABLE

“I’m in love with you,”

YOU WERE BLOWN AWAY YOU DIND’T FUCKING KNOW THIS BOY HAD ANYTHING BUT PLATONIC FEELINGS FOR YOU

“Are you serious Peter cause If you’re just fucking with me thats not very nice and you know I love you so I really hope you’re not messing with me cau-

Peter cut you off with a kiss

Usually you’d be mad if someone did that but Peter Parker was kissing you on fucking Maid of the Mist of all places and it didn’t seem to matter in that moment

“I love you too, you nerd,”

Peter had this big goofy grin on his face and you just smiled and went to kiss him again.

It was a long ass eight hour drive to Niagara Falls but it was totally worth it.

[hadeheria]

fred homard -- 22, production assistant

it's raining through the window but I like it that way

you’d guess from his goofy exterior, his neverending smile and his energy that could rival any kid on a pack of sour patch kids that freddie had ever had a bad time in his life. he didn’t know the meaning of despair, nor had he ever faced a moment of difficulty from the day he was born. ‘fuckboi fred’ as he’s affectionately known seems blessed- beyond any sort of notion of having a bad thought in his head or any knock to his self-esteem.

such preconceptions would be wrong.

tw: child and spousal abuse, suicide & self-harm

frederick wilbur donald hayworth homard was born on a rainy summer’s day, where the tarmac sizzled with evaporating water which was warm when it hit your skin. hair frizzed within minutes of leaving the comfort of your home, and a slick of sweat would embrace any person’s skin no matter their tolerance to humidity. it was uncharacteristically hot for maine, and an uncharacteristically happy day in the life of fred’s mother.

wilbur homard and julia hayworth married in a dizzying whirlwind- julia was pregnant, with catholic parents, and wilbur’s well-to-do mother and father couldn’t bear the thought of those around him thinking he’d gone off the rails with someone deeply religious. they could feign the appearance of happiness (although they had been happy in the beginning, blissful and just two seventeen year olds in love), but a baby took its toll. neither were prepared nor mature enough to have a screaming infant keeping them up at all hours. wilbur’s family still maintained the expectation that he would go to an ivy league school, and the studying no doubt had a negative effect on their relationship. but they were stubborn, unable to want to give up on something their parents needed so badly to maintain their sanity and dedicated on making it work just as a middle finger.

the arguing started around wilbur’s second year into harvard, when fred was 3. one of his earliest memories was sitting on a hardwood floor behind a pair of curtains, trying to drown out the enraged screams of his parents while he played with a thomas train set. the first slap wasn’t until a year later; freddie remembered his mother’s tears as she tried to do his homework with a reddened cheek.

they maintained the perfect illusion of a married-young but completely in love family for most. but behind closed doors, the anger escalated. wilbur didn’t lay his hands on his son- not at first. but after a particularly drunken night, a rough day at med school, and a stressful day packing to see the family for christmas, fred’s overenthusiastic shrieks made the man snap. the bruise was only on his ribs; easy to hide. he only cried for an hour, thinking it was an accident as any 6 year old who loved his father might. his mother held him in shaking arms, a skinny young thing whose own bruises were forming from large welts. they were hopeless and only finding themselves more trapped.

the marks only appeared about once a week, and were always somewhere easy to hide. never on the face, his dad would announce. only somewhere they wouldn’t be found, could be covered up with clothes. julia would be peppered with abuse on the backs of her legs; she shied away from skirts, and only wore long sleeves as she began to cut her own arms. despite needing to protect her son she was drowning in her own depression, an isolated and dying shell wilting into the background of a painting. she prayed to god obsessively, kept her son home so she could ‘apologise’, took the abuse and refused to talk for days after.

fred was eleven when she finally took her own life, leaving a note that she was with god now. it was then that social services took him in, found the abrasions on his skin; gave him the opportunity to finally tell everyone about what his dad had done. he was sent to live with his paternal grandparents, whose tears shook their whole bodies when they learned of the atrocities of their only son. freddie was taken in, given the earth and more to try and quell whatever trauma had arisen from his horrific first years.

luckily, it worked for the most part. freddie grafted, fell in love with film and news, catching the bad guys and putting them on show for the world. he found some happiness, living in the joy his mother would have wanted for him. he was intelligent but not confident enough to truly let it show; instead playing the fool, the happy clown with comic relief. but he was a shoulder to cry on, and someone with true insight.

fred worked hard- interned non-stop for newspapers, media agencies, photographers, any minor company that was shooting anything to do with tv. he went to college for tv production and broadcast journalism. he gained an ego, some charisma, a loud voice. by some small miracle he graduated with a solid gpa, a good group of friends and the offer of a full time production internship on a well known morning show. he found happiness with it, cutting through the majority of his awful past (which he rarely told people of, though it wasn’t a secret). the nights of crying himself to sleep, of nightmares and cold sweats at 4am became fewer and fewer, so much so that if he tried hard enough fred could forget his life had existed before he lived with his grandparents.

fuckboi freddie is kinda how his name suggests. he’s complete trash, got a lot of personality, says what’s on his mind, can be a lil bit rude but loves having a laugh. he’s positive and full of joy, enthusiastic and just a general goofball. most would live under the impression that he’s a bit of a dumbass- not entirely true, but he doesn’t take a lot seriously, and as a result just doesn’t ‘do smart things’. he does a lot of pot, doesn’t give any fucks, constantly compliments himself, dances like a drunk dad at all spare moments, eats a lot of junk food and is religious about not working out or taking care of his lungs. but he’s a fearlessly hard worker, who’s full of big ideas and provides genuine ideas that are well developed and consisted of significant levels of thought. he sees things as they are, has a great deal or wisdom and insight, and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. if anyone has problems, it’s reasonable to talk to him and expect a comforting hug and some agony aunt-style words. but that life comes in flashes and scraps; just like the nights where he still wakes up screaming, or cries for hours over losing his mother. being happy is easier and healthier. it’s the bridge between life and death. and it’s the only way he survives. 

[thefinalcinderella]

DIVE!! Book 3 Chapter 11-SS SPECIAL ‘99

The very last chapter! I have to be honest, this book went in directions that I did not expect, but it’s still as engrossing as ever. I always thought of Youichi as a little shit, but after reading through this book I realized how lonely his life has been up to now (still a little shit though). Anyways it’s too bad that there’s not enough Shibuki in this book (but he still proves in the last chapter that he’s best boy), but I almost forgot how great it is to see all three main characters together.

The amount of notes I have to make for this chapter is giving me a headache for Tsurune (do not look forward to that any time soon). I will start the next book after a break.

Full list of translations here

Previously on DIVE!!: Youichi proves himself to be the best older brother figure ever; the competition ends exactly how you’d expect it to

When Youichi invited Kayoko to the “Natural House” in the back streets of Higashikitazawa on a Saturday afternoon, almost a week had passed since the Sino-Japanese Goodwill Competition.

“Please eat whatever you like. Today I will also go along with you.”

It was an organic restaurant that had an interior of only plain wood and cream. Youichi, sitting at the seat by the window, presented Kayoko with the menu, which was listed with the names of bland-sounding dishes, and mainly organic vegetable-and-fish-focused.

Turnips and homegrown ganmo, thoroughly boiled. Bok choy covered in crab sauce. Daikon and mustard spinach with yuzu flavor. Salad with sweet potatoes and lemons. White fish and hen-of-the-woods steamed in foil. Homemade yose tofu…(1)

“I feel like I’m getting healthier just looking at this,” Kayoko said, without hiding her confusion at this foreign culture. “I can feel my blood getting thinner.”

“I can guarantee the flavor. I basically don’t eat out, but I come here sometimes. Because it’s my treat today, please eat whatever you like.”

After hesitating, Kayoko ordered a “lunch of buri daikon and mizuna with small fish dressing plus brown rice,” and Youichi chose a “lunch of grilled fish and heated vegetables plus cha soba.” (2)

“So, what is it today? Lately, it seems that you’ve escaped from the worst of the slump that you’ve mentioned before.”

“Thanks to you.”

Indeed, this person had seen through everything. Youichi spoke, while remembering the eeriness of feeling like he had been seen through to his stomach.

“Today is my gratitude for that, and I have a request afterwards…”

“Request?”

“First, with this, I wanted to say that I’m truly grateful for all your help. I think it was you, Coach Asaki, as expected, who opened the first breakthrough for me when I was driven into a corner.”

Youichi bowed formally to Kayoko. He set aside his disposition, and he, who had an impeccable figure, hung his head gracefully, drawing a curve that was as elegant as a moth orchid.

“The issue with the commercial before was wiped clean with your recommendation, right? Since that weird commercial doesn’t exist anymore, I was really relieved.”

“My opinion was just requested. All I said was that Fujitani Youichi seemed to be quite the eccentric oddball, but how would he be as an image character for Mizuki? And that it should be ended for both parties’ sakes. When you refused the nomination in the first place, I am sure that story spread all over the place, like that was the essence of it.” 

“I suppose.”

“Even with the uproar over the nomination cancellation, even if I wasn’t here, you surely would have done the same thing in the end. That’s why you shouldn’t be thanking me. What you did seemed rather stupid, but it’s also somewhat exhilarating. So isn’t that okay? Even if they don’t say it, there should be plenty of people who were thinking the same things. And besides…”

Kayoko rarely hesitated to say something. She sipped her blue-green colored tea.

“Besides?”

“Besides, on that day…after the competition when you and Okitsu-kun came back with Sakai-kun who disappeared, I thought something when I saw the three of you laughing while walking. You would never say it, and perhaps you haven’t even realized it yourself, but isn’t the reason for why you gave up the nomination is surprisingly simple?”

“What is it?”

“Well, I wonder.” Kayoko smiled meaningfully. “With that, the story’s already over. I was never very interested in what’s ended. I feel like I’m doing an evaluation meeting voluntarily after the competition. But more importantly, I’m interested in what your request is.”

Youichi, with an embarrassed face, tilted his head, having suddenly gotten nervous with that one sentence. He breathed in quickly. And then, as if to give himself a boost, he pushed out his elbows, and awkwardly began.

“I like self-reflection well enough, so I thought about this slump again on my own. I think it was exactly as you said, but I feel like that’s not all there was… I feel like that I was unconsciously protecting myself somewhere. How I made my techniques my own, how to dive perfectly—I always pondered over those things without feelings of attack, and forgot how to take on something new… That isn’t good.”

Youichi’s voice strengthened, as if he was telling himself that.

“First of all, I think that I will change from here on out. Like Tomo, like Okitsu, I want to take on something new again. And, if possible, I want it to be the event that I was never good at—reverse somersaults.”

“Reverse somersaults…”

“Surprisingly, no one noticed this, but I have never done reverse somersaults for my strong point, pikes. I always made do with the easier-to-dive tuck position. I was in an accident when I was little, and I’ve been dragging that trauma out, but I want to end that soon. So, what I mean is…”

Youichi breathed in heavily, and spoke.

“Could you teach me the reverse 2½ somersaults in pike position?”

Kayoko’s mascara-boldened eyelashes fluttered.

Reverse 2 ½ somersaults in pike position—

That event, which had a degree of difficulty of 2.9, was an extremely difficult dive even for divers who didn’t feel like they weren’t good at reverse somersaults. Since the success rate was so low in addition to the danger, one rarely saw it in a competition.

“I teach you the reverse 2½ somersaults in pike position?”

“There’s two weeks until the qualifying trials where the representation right could be obtained. If I am to master this troublesome technique in such a short time, you are the only coach there is for that.”

“It can be done if it’s me?”

“If it’s you, and me.”

Kayoko’s cheeks slackened to the revived self-confidence in Youichi’s eyes.

“Don’t say such funny things.”

“I was extremely serious. I must take back the representation right at next month’s qualifying trials, by all means. Otherwise, I can’t show my face to the MDC, and my home environment will grow worse and worse. If the MDC is forced to close down, that might even be what will sever the father-son relationship between me and the old man. Every time we pass by each other at home I feel an extraordinary bloodlust. My mother’s so stressed from interposing herself between us that her jaw hasn’t stopped clenching.  

“Oh my.”

“It’s a temporomandibular joint disorder (3). Anyways, I absolutely cannot lose next month’s competition because of this. I must perfect the new event, and I would like to face the qualifying trials with my body and mind in the best condition. And so…” Youichi declared with conviction. “I’ve named that reverse 2½ somersaults pike…’SS Special ’99,’ and I’ll work hard to carry it out successfully, and go to Sydney.”

“‘SS Special’?”

“The great pike position—it stands for the Super Shrimp Special.” (4)

“…”

Kayoko was at a loss for words. She then spoke with a tone that sounded like she was trying to find out how serious he was.

“The reverse 2½ somersaults pike has been called the reverse 2½ somersaults pike since forever, and even now everybody calls it the reverse 2½ somersaults pike. Was it necessary to specially give it a new name?”

“It’s to get me into the mindset. It’s a new type of image training.” Youichi said unreservedly.

Kayoko was speechless again, and looked around the restaurant like she was seeking help, but there was nothing there but things and colours that were good for the body.

Walls in an eye-pleasing cream colour. The plain wood ceiling that looked as though they would smell good if you approached it. The incandescent lamps that gave off a natural light, gently embraced by conical paper hats. Just like the ceiling, the plain wood floor looked like it had been carried in from the forest just a short while ago, and the tables—.

As Kayoko stared unblinkingly at each one of those things, at that moment, her mind recalled a phrase.

“‘So out of the ground the Lord God formed every animal of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name.’”

“What’s that?”

“A passage from the Book of Genesis. I was made to memorize it when I was a child. Because all things were named by man, they belong to man. So it is with ‘SHEEP,’ with ‘COW,’ and also with ‘SS Special ’99’…” Kayoko said the names with the beautiful accent that she picked up in America. “That might be nice. If that technique becomes yours because of that.”

“Then…”

“I will also cooperate. Of course, while teaching the other children as well, as usual.”

“Thank you very much.”

When Youichi vigorously brought his head down, a waiter in a vegetable-dyed-style apron appeared holding a serving tray, placing the different lunch sets down in front of them.

Kayoko had already scrambled for the chopsticks when he lifted his head up again.

“It’s true. This really does taste good.”

Influenced by Kayoko’s enthusiasm for the food like the conversation was already over, Youichi also reached for the chopsticks.

The two silently moved the contents of the tray to their mouths like they were plant sister and brother who were having a conversation with alpha waves.

After eating up her buri daikon, mizuna and brown rice, just before hurriedly getting up from her seat like usual, Kayoko spoke, like she had just remembered Youichi was there.

“One day, I would like to let you eat something like greasy spare ribs, or beef stew with plenty of demiglace sauce.”

“I’d like to eat them,” Youichi nodded.

“But, it looks like that day is still far away.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Driving yourself to your very limit again and again, in this extreme world.”

Needless to say, Youichi was shaking his head.

“It’s what I’ve decided for myself.”

The final decisive battle, where the victory was fought for with the additional harsh condition of earning 600 points and more. Facing the stage where his last hope for the Olympics was wagered, it was true that right now, Youichi was at the very limit. Pressure will rise with each passing day, and if he began to train extra hard for the “SS Special ’99,” it’ll be apparent that every night he was exhausted to the point of vomiting gastric juices.

But this is none other than the snow that I let fall myself, Youichi thought.

From now on, he would be rolling it with his own hands, and he would make his own, true snowman that didn’t belong to anyone else.

Even if the shape was somewhat bad, it will surely be cold when it is touched, and when it melts and gets washed away, it will surely leave a trace behind—.

Translation Notes

1. Ganmo is deep-fried tofu with thinly sliced vegetables. Yuzu is a kind of citrus fruit that grows in East Asia. Hen of the woods is a type of mushroom. Yose tofu is a type of tofu that has no water surrounding it, and a coagulant added to it to help it keeps its shape. It has a more “tofu” flavour.

2. Buri daikon is a dish where yellowtail fish and daikon are cooked with soy sauce. Mizuna is a type of mustard plant that grows in Japan. Cha soba is soba flavored with green tea.

3. The full name for TMJ disorder, where there’s pain in the jaw muscles. For some reason it cracks me up that Youichi knows this

4. Pike position in Japanese is 蝦型 (ebi-kata), which literally means “shrimp type.”

Next time on DIVE!!: The beginning of the end.

[silenceconsumes]

Feeling down

Recently I have been reading about people doing this ketogenic diet thing and seeing how quickly they are making progress but it doesn't seem healthy or sustainable to me. You body is not designed to eat so much fat on a constant basis, especially when it means forgoing much healthier options like veggies and fruits. I mean hell, what type of diet says you can eat a bunch of fast food bullshit so long as you don't eat the bun, but god forbid you eat a damn potato. What really bums me out though is I am working hard to try and stay consistent with my healthier lifestyle. I slip up sometimes and give in to my sweet tooth by putting a bit of sugar on my frozen blueberries, but these people are literally fasting on eggs and bacon fat. Why are they losing weight so quickly. I just want to start seeing some results damn it. Is that really too much to ask? To see that my efforts are at least making progress towards something?

I know it takes time. Really I do. But some days, days like today especially, I just find myself really down in the dumps and wanting to give up. A part of me wants to surrender to being fat, and just go eat the super unhealthy food that I am craving and I really have no one to vent to lately. Dad is no help because I'm the one forcing this diet change on him and any time I bring up these cravings he goes to his standby of "Well you need to treat yourself from time to time to make sure you don't get burnt out." Like no. Fuck that. That is the last thing I need to be told. I don't need someone who is wanting to go back to processed foods, sugar, and junk food at every turn.

And the other people I usually talk to and lean on when cravings like this kick in I haven't really spoken to much lately. Pat texted me a little while ago but he's been at work and stuff lately so he's busy. Brooke and Ashley have been doing their thing and haven't really been responding so I'm not sure if this is one of the usual times when they disappear for a while or if I upset them somehow? And then Ashley has been busy with work and school, plus she's a mom so theres that. I hate to constantly bug her cause I feel like I just get on her nerves at times, and since we went on our date we've only talked sporadically.

Honestly at this point I think what would be the best would be to just go disappear into the woods for a few nights to a week alone. No cell, no internet, and just spend time camping and going for walks or jogs through the wilderness butnI can't even do that until the weather makes a drastic change towards warmer weather. I want to put on some shorts and go for a run, even if it means being out of breath after every few minutes and having to break it up with a lot of walking. Something, anything, to get my mind somewhere else so I'm not stuck dwelling on how little change I'm seeing in myself.

After all, its not like I'm eating poorly. Lots of veggies and fruit, most of which is either fresh or frozen (canned is a last resort) with lean proteins and better carbs. I'm not cooking with as many fats, and the fats that I am ingesting I try to make as healthy as possible. And while I do eat rice (or red beans and rice) which isn't the best of foods it isn't the worst either and I keep it to a single scoop. Hell, I haven't even been using the regular dinner plates because I heard using small plates is better for portioning and making yourself feel fuller than you really are.

Ugh... really I guess this is just a rant. There is no true point to it. I just had to blow off steam and get it off my chest. It doesn't seem fair at times. All this came about because I felt bad for putting a bit of sugar on my blueberries to satisfy a sweet tooth. And I didn't even eat them all but now I feel guilty. I just wish I had someone to talk to who understood. Someone who was going through the same struggle as I am and wanted to improve their health, or lose weight or something. Misery loves company, right?

Oh well. Tomorrow will be a better day right? I just have to remain positive and stay optimistic that this slump I'm in won't last for long. That I will see results sometime soon and at that point it will all seem worth it. I think tomorrow I am also going to put the scale away or give it to my dad to keep in his room. Otherwise I am watching it every day hoping to see something and seeing my weight go from 315 one day (or even earlier in a single day) to bounce up to 320 again really hurts. I don't know where I'm actually at at that point, or how much is water weight, or carry over from another meal or something.

Journal Entry #59 23:15, Wednesday March 7 2018

Will

[goodsoldierandnothingelse]

Adventures on Skype/Kik/Dicord with alwaysaweapon Blockquote: alwaysaweapon ; plain: me

“Where the hell have you been?”

He purses his lips. “Thinking.”

“...Thinking. You wanna elaborate on that?”

He shrugged. “Soon. I’m still trying to figure something out. Sorry...”

His eyebrows pinched together; his mouth opening a few times before he actually formed the question he wanted to ask. “Does it hafta do with why you’re pissed at me?”

He pursed his lips again. “M’not... Anymore.”

Surprise sprung, joining the confusion already plastered on his face. “...You’re not? But--” He had fully intended to have it out with him, like he promised Bobby, but now... “Why?”

He shrugged. “Been thinking.”

“Right. You said that.” He licked his lips, hope blooming slowly as he looked at his brother. “So does that mean we can go back t’talking without it becoming a one-sided conversation again?”

Sam raised a brow. “Topic depending, sure.”

He released a breath of relief, and nodded, knowing this was a good step in the right direction. “An’ for what its worth-- ‘M sorry.”

Sam lifted a brow in surprise and nodded once. “Thanks--me too.”

Dean smiled lightly before it readily turned goofy. “Hey, what kind of brothers would we be if we didn't piss the other off once an' a while. Huh? Not normal ones, that's for sure.”

He chuckled. “There’s nothing normal about us as it is, Dean.”

“What are ya talkin’ about? We’re plenty normal.” Dean knew exactly what Sam meant, but that wasn’t the point of this conversation. “Our lifestyle’s just a bit more--extreme than most.”

Sam scoffed. “Right. Normal. Keep telling yourself that, Dean.”

“I will, buzzkill.”

“Insults? Well, at least you’re back to normal.”

“Aha!” Dean exclaimed, thrusting a pointing finger at him. “See? You said ‘normal’. An’ if I’m partially normal then that means you are, too.”

He sighed, knowing there is no use in arguing. “Okay, Dean.”

Dean scrunches up his face a bit, his lips pursed. “Man, you need t’lighten up.” That’s what he was trying to trigger from Sam; to get the air surrounding them back to normal and easier than what it has been lately, but Sam was making it difficult.

“Probably,” he agreed with a nod. “But you’ve been telling me that for how long? Apparently I’ve failed miserably by your standards.”

“This isn’t about meeting my standards. I mean, dude. You’re like Debby Downer right now.”

“Got a lot on my mind.” He was actually glancing around for a particular book at the moment.

“Well, maybe you need t’get out of that head of yours an’ actually do something other than bury your nose in a book. I mean, when was the last time you even left the bunker?”

Sam's eyes pinch together as he thinks on the question directed at him. It had been-- weeks, now, he was sure. Not that that mattered; he'd been so focused on his thoughts that time had barely passed to him. "Thought you didn't want me going anywhere in m'current state?" He quipped, gaze settling on the book he'd been looking for.

Sam had maybe half a point there. Yes, Dean would rather him rest and try to keep as healthy as possible with the Trials doing God knows what to him, but he also didn't want just some shell of his brother either. "Not alone," he corrected, thinking back to when he had woken up to Sam just gone and him not answering the phone when he called to check if he was okay or not. "An', well, not huntin', either--but, obviously, sitting in here isn't doin' you much good." Honestly, he was surprised he wasn't climbing walls right now. "We should go out. Have some fun. Buy ya some ice cream?"

Sam moved to the book and began peeling through the pages, turning them slowly so as to get a good look at what they said before moving to the next. Dean was talking, so he lifted his gaze to watch his elder brother, a small smile flickering over his features before it vanished. "I'm not a child to be coaxed with the promise of an ice cream, anymore, Dean."

Dean's head fell back and he took a breath to calm the frustration that was his reluctant brother, but after a moment he returned his gaze back to him. "Buy ya a hooker then?" he asked, throwing his whole body into the question. "Maybe a nice lap dance. Some ass action. Something. Anything. Let's just get out of here." Sam didn't by any means look his greatest, and it was painfully apparent that he had only declined further in his health during their rift, and if this was the result of keeping it safe then one outing wasn't going to do harm. In fact he hoped that maybe it would improve something, if just his mood. "It's a nice day. We could go for a walk if you wanted."

"I don't want a hooker, Dean." His tone was annoyed, and if he was honest-- he was trying not to snap at his brother. He didn't want anything but to keep doing what he was. But that wasn't going to quiet Dean. He shut the book with a solid thud then looked to where Dean stood. "Fine, you win. Let's go do-- something."

Dean didn't appreciate the sour tone that Sam adopted due to his pushing, but that is exactly what he was talking about. Obviously being pent up in here had pent up some things inside him, too, and Dean was of course determined to help his little brother out. "Whoa," he quipped sarcastically, reacting to Sam's begrudgingly acceptance that Dean knew was just to get him to shut up, but, hell, he'd take it. "Don't get too excited now." He rolled his eyes before heading towards the garage. "Be ready in five or 'M draggin' your ass out."

He didn't take too long grabbing a light jacket to pull on if he got a chill, then slipping his shoes on, before he was headed to the garage himself. He made his way to the Impala, pulling open the passengers door before folding himself into the seat with a groan.

Dean already sat in the Impala, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited. He wondered with Sam would just blow him off and lock himself in his room or something. The kind of reaction he was used to receiving from him lately. But before long a grumpy looking giant came trotting his way over and got in the car, releasing a pain filled groan as he did. The sound sent a wave of panic through Dean, unable to help it, but he tried not to react on it. "Gettin' old there, Sammy?" he teased lightly and started the car before either of them could change their mind on leaving.

Tossing his jacket into the back seat, Sam pulled on his seatbelt and cast an annoyed look at Dean. "Old, no. Tired of being too big to fit through the door comfortably? Yes." Being larger than average was bad enough, but he literally had to fold himself into the car and it was uncomfortable on a good day, never mind when he was already feeling like crap.

Dean smirked slightly. "Maybe we should look into a monster truck for you, Lerch." 'Cause there's nothing inconspicuous about one of those rolling the streets, but the reply was just Dean being a smart-ass and not a legit suggestion.    He took Baby out of the garage and out onto the dusty road that sat out front of their Bat Cave and drove down the stretch. "So, where should we go? Besides back."

"Ha. Ha." Sam rolled his eyes, letting his gaze drift lightly off the scenery around them. Funny how it could now be considered familiar to him, a place they had been long enough that he could almost call it-- home . And of course, having Dean there made it easier to accept it as such. Most days.

“Yo, Sam,” Dean urged, looking over to his brother who had his nose to the window. “Did you not hear me?” His eyebrows were raised in a slightly worried manner, now beginning to doubt if taking him out was the best idea. “I asked where you wanted t’go.”

Sam winced inwardly as Dean spoke again. Truthfully, he'd missed that. His focus had shifted to his thoughts and the ever-present pain, and he'd completely zoned out on what his brother was saying. "Uh-- sorry, man." He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat a little. "Grab a bite, then go from there?" He suggested mildly.

Dean frowned a little, but he took a breath and turned back to the road. “A bite,” he muttered. “I can do that.” Normally Dean would head to some steak house or a diner, that being his preference, but he consciously made a decision not to seek those places out and instead look for a more healthier choice, knowing that would be what Sam would like.    Once they got to a more lively area Dean scanned for his quest before he found one— at least, he hoped. “What about that place up there on the right?” he asked Sam, nodding his head in gesture to the joint.

Sam got lost in his own thoughts once more, only coming out once Dean prompted him. He looked where Dean indicated, a brow lifting in surprise. "Dean, that's a Vegan sandwich shop. There's nothing in there you'll eat." He knew Dean was trying to be nice and pick something more Sam's pace, but he'd never ask his brother to go somewhere he'd never normally go. "Just go to the diner; they have food we both like there."

Dean immediately made a face following the word ‘Vegan,’ just disgusted by the word. Like— Did people really hate themselves that much? Bodies need protein. “Yeah, but you like that— Hippie Crap,” Dean responded, confirming that he was only suggesting it for Sam. Trying to both make up for being a jerk and cheer him up a bit. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t sure how one could actually be happy without a nice piece of steak, but he wouldn’t argue.    “You sure?” he asked when Sam said to head for a diner instead. “‘Cause if that’s what you want then…” Then I’ll just die a little inside, like anyone who walks through those doors. Basically he was willing to suffer for Sam’s sake, even if that meant him not eating until he could find a drive-thru somewhere later.

"Yeah, I'm sure Dean." He couldn't help the little chuckle. "Don't try so hard; I'm easy to please. I can go there on my own anytime. The diner is perfectly fine." In fact, he often found himself at the place when he needed out of the bunker and time from Dean. They even knew his favorites on the menu. Not that it was a wildly popular or busy place.

“You got it.” Sam’s reassurance was good enough for him and he gratefully drove past it, now rerouting to the nearest diner. Maybe in this sense Sam was, as he said, easy to please, but Dean wasn’t sure about in general, as he was trying to rack his brain for something to lift Sam’s spirits and get him to stop thinking. Of course his train of thought just went straight towards alcohol, the answer to all life’s problems, but he wasn’t sure that it would be much help with Sam already looking like he had the world’s greatest hangover… Hookers were out… Maybe a movie? They hadn’t done that in a while… Another idea occurred to him then; this one he voiced out loud to his brother. “Hey, you wanna go down to Cawker City after? Check out the lake there?” That wouldn’t call for any overexertion on Sam’s part and they could still get out and enjoy some fresh air.

[argumate]

Wonder Woman

This movie was great fun! It hit all the right notes for a superhero movie, and although it was not particularly original it was very well executed and I liked it.

 - The movie is bookended with references to Bruce Wayne, who thankfully doesn’t show up in person, so let’s just ignore those scenes. Actually I’d like to see her meet Steve Rogers, but I guess that would require corporate merger shenanigans at the highest level.

 - (Actually the movie does share plenty of tropes with Captain America: a hero taken out of time, a band of brothers in the war, a villain with apocalyptic plans, a love that is not to be, an aeroplane, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves).

 - Hot diggity, Amazon island! (I keep wanting to say they’re from the Amazon, but that isn’t right at all). It’s got unrealistic waterfalls and everything, that’s how you know it’s blessed by the gods. Oh and a forcefield bubble to keep out the rest of the world, that’s cool too.

 - This has to be the most satisfying representation of the female warrior race ever devised in the past three thousand years, and the movie could have just been two hours of Robin Wright kicking Gal Gadot’s ass while Connie Nielsen smoulders in the background and the audience would have been well satisfied.

 - No Futurama jokes were made in this review. Not even petite ones.

 - Princess Diana (wut? I only just noticed the main character is Princess Di, although in fairness they always refer to her the other way around) I mean Diana, Princess of the Amazons, has the standard chosen-by-destiny origin story and a mother who can’t bear to lose her to fate, and gives her heavily redacted stories of the past. (She boned Zeus! That’s nothing to be ashamed of, everyone has boned Zeus).

 - What could possibly trouble this peaceful island of crazy warrior ladies besides the arrival of... a man. In the form of Chris Pine, whom I must admit I was a little wary of since I haven’t seen him in any movies before so to me he’s a bit of an unknown quantity. But he’s great! In this film at least. Funny guy, charismatic, good love interest, solid support without overshadowing, I think his character works really well.

 - All that dick innuendo while he’s in the bath tho.

 - The man brings news of the Great War, and the Amazons’ sacred duty is to restore the peace... kinda. It’s a bit vague actually; the artfully rendered backstory montage of god fights certainly suggested that, but then what have they been doing for millennia on their island while wars rage across the world outside? Anyway, the bubble has been broken, a bunch of Germans got what was coming to them, Robin Wright took a bullet for Diana and will grimace no more, and Diana is just itching to go kill a god.

 - I mean seriously she is thirsty for god slaughter; when she was six years old her mother showed her the magical god-slaying sword and she literally drooled at it, this woman doesn’t even need a reason she’ll slaughter a god just for sport.

 - Sorrowful partings as Diana sails away from the only world she’s ever known, and spy boy tries to mack on her when they’re barely out of sight of shore. Lucky for him that magical force bubble shields his amorous intentions from her mother, who can and will throw a spear that far if she has to.

 - Wonder Woman, of course, is demisexual.

 - The London scenes where they try on outfits and fight spies in alleys and rustle up a posse of misfits are a lot of fun indeed, then things turn serious as they approach the Western Front. Sometimes the Great War really does feel like the abstract concept of war reified and instantiated in the world, soldiers and generals and politicians alike helplessly forced to dance to its tune without any way to stop, the logic of game theory gone mad. It’s certainly tempting to imagine that there must be an off switch somewhere, and if you could just stab the right guy everything would grind to a halt. Of course, you could say it was shooting the right guy that kicked things off in the first place.

 - Diana charges into no-mans land without even tossing her hair back first and saying “but I am no man”, but you know we were all thinking it.

 - Quick shout out to the cinema audience who laughed and gasped and cried at all the right moments, although I thought I could hear someone behind me repeating the lines slightly before they happened, perhaps closed captions? Either way it was a nice atmosphere, top stuff.

 - That charge scene though, it was something. I’ve heard it described as every woman’s experience facing a machine gun hail of microaggressions, and frankly the less said about that the better. But you can’t help thinking about the men and boys who trudged through that mud without magical shields or bracelets or plot invulnerability to bullets and were cut down in their thousands and left to rot where they fell. It was notable that when she finally reached the German trench she smashed not the soldiers, but the machine gun.

 - I think the movie handled Diana’s gradual power boost very well. She starts off capable of defeating people in hand to hand combat, and slowly levels up to the point where she is casually smashing through walls and swinging tanks through the air with one hand. Amusingly she’s so focused on her quest that she doesn’t think through the implications of her having god-like powers, and everyone around her just accepts it because honestly what else can you do? “Excuse me miss, I can’t help noticing that you just smashed face first through a brick wall and yet your lipstick is still impeccable-”

 - Perhaps her powers scale up based on having Something to Protect, and a lot of tension comes from her realising that she can’t be everywhere and can’t save everyone.

 - Wonder Woman gets busy with Chris Pine; I hope she’s gentle with her new-found strength. (She didn’t try the beer though, which bugs me a little; in fact we never see any of the Amazons eat, I think. Do they grow food on their island? I assume the climate and soil is magically good, so farming should be easy work, and they can spend the time between harvests punching each other).

 - He sketches out a future of life together and work and kids and growing old together (he don’t know she’s immortal, which saves some awkwardness). Sure would be a shame if he selflessly sacrificed himself for a noble cause, especially after he’s already signed a contract to feature in multiple movies.

 - Oh yeah, there is a ludicrously villainous German general (an actual asshole from the Real World, and future Nazi!) and a tortured femme Phantom of the Opera who delights in poison gas who sort of has a thing for him. I reckon a good relationship is one that makes both participants healthier, and what they have going on is the exact opposite of that. I don’t think they quite get enough attention, but since War is the real adversary perhaps that’s intentional.

 - There is obvious awkwardness with making the Germans the main bad guys in this story while the British push for peace, even though the film does make some token efforts at calling for a pox on both their houses. Along with Ludendorff, the real villain could be... Winston Churchill, who as Minister for Munitions at this time was in fact stockpiling a vast armoury of gas and bombs and tanks to be deployed in the offensive he was planning in 1919 that would destroy the German army and win a decisive victory for Britain. Churchill was despondent when they signed the Armistice instead and crushed his dreams of annihilation; he didn’t get his victory until 27 years later, when he finally pissed in the Rhine.

 - I’m grateful that the misfit sidekicks didn’t heroically sacrifice themselves in this movie, they needed to catch a break.

 - Ludendorff might bitch about the Dolchstoßlegende but he didn’t seem to enjoy being stabbed in the front, what a hypocrite.

 - The final showdown arrives in a blaze of rage and glory... and Remus Lupin is the god of war! Now that’s a nice twist, I appreciate a softly spoken man in a bowler hat who wishes to end the pestilence that is humanity. Turns out his powers are not what they once were (although he seems tough enough!) so he has just been chilling on Earth whispering rude thoughts in people’s ears and waiting for Diana to show up so he can make her a Darth Vaderesque offer.

 - You could say that he’s been waiting for Gadot.

 - And it’s over, god is dead and a new day dawns. The soldiers taking off their gas masks is a nice touch; it’s a shame they didn’t get to show something like the 1914 christmas football match. Ultimately the ending echoed Age of Ultron: a being of ultimate power and contempt for humanity is zapped by another being of ultimate power who believes in the redemptive power of love. So it goes.

- Terry Pratchett would say that killing the god doesn’t stop the war, but stopping the war would kill the god, divinity flowing from belief and not the other way around. If no human believed in war, what would Ares even do? Fighting for peace is always a tricky concept, but the structure of a superhero movie based on god-like physical abilities inherently demands it. This one did its best to thread that needle and didn’t mess it up too badly.

 - It’s a shame we didn’t get a reunion scene back home on the island, given that she not only achieved the destiny of her people but survived the attempt. Maybe she can’t find her way back and she’s stuck living with the humans now. The shot of her with a laptop at the end raises the disturbing scenario of Amazons tearing up social media all day instead of throwing down.

 - It’s not clear how Wonder Woman occupied her time during the Second World War and all the other craziness that filled up the 20th century, but no doubt we’ll find out. 

[tmnt-imagines]

Beauty and the Beast: Chapter One

“You can’t love someone until you love yourself first,”

“That’s bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you? Oh, God’s above. I loved you. I loved you so much, I forgot what hating myself felt like.”

Central Park was like Wonderland in the evening whispers of light. As sun fades from the sky, the grass ignites in pastel colours, and the trees look to be sculpted in molten gold. The sky is a canvas, painted in all shades of yellows and oranges, which blend so well beneath the blushing smudges of clouds, and though they part and give way to a beautiful light, they still roll across the backdrop of dusk with the grace of delicate feathers, floating home. Everything seems enlarged, 10 times as big as it usually feels in the hustle and bustle of New York City life, and to Annabelle the beautifully carved, metallic plants stretch high up, so far that her little self feels twice as short underneath them.

She’d made a point recently, of walking through Central Park just before night took hold of the city. And while everyone departed from their work, and disappeared into cars and faceless buildings, she would stand and marvel at the scenery – imagining the city was something more magical than just New York.

Annabelle was never one to enjoy the confines of skyscrapers and streets filled with buildings, she was a country girl (from Britain) who felt more than just slightly out of her depth in the ‘Big Apple’. Had she had a say in her whereabouts, she would have picked Paris, or Verona, or Athens. Somewhere more mysterious and magnificent than America, and more specifically this city in particular. Yet, when it came down to it, it had not been her say, but that of her father; who had decided, quite abruptly, this would be where they’d move to next.

Though she couldn’t complain entirely, Annabelle got to study at Columbia University; which was a magic of its own. Especially the arts department, which she had become so engrossed in over the last few months, she’d almost forgotten about her crushed dreams of attending Oxford, or Cambridge, back home.

Living with her father, somewhere completely new, had been a strain. But evenings like this made the move worthwhile. Stars, like ivory pebbles on a golden beach, were beginning to illuminate the sky in disarray, and were only faintly glimmering in the company of the sun. It would not be long before darkness consumed the sky, and those flakes of bronze, which Annabelle was infatuated with, would be submerged by indigo and sapphire; the silver of the moon taking the place of the sun.

This was the only time, and place, Annabelle got any space anymore. No one at University really liked her, she was the oddball they all steered clear of, and with her father constantly raving and ranting about god knows what, Annabelle appreciated times like these where she could just breathe, and take in the silence before she resumed normal life. No one was glaring or staring at her, and no one was prattling on about their latest creation. No one was around at all. And Annabelle loved it. The silence, the peace, the gorgeous picture painted before her – it was all she needed to detach herself from society for even a second.

The book clustered in a heap within Annabelle’s bag was growing heavier, it seemed, with every second she stayed standing still, and the phone impatiently wriggling reminded her that time had not paused as she had, and there were, in fact, other people in the world, who did await her arrival back home. Her father, whom was now phoning her, was the OCD type that would panic if Annabelle was even but a minute later home than she had said she would be. It was irritating sometimes, like these, when Annabelle wanted a break from everyone else, but at the same time that was just her father, as quirky and bizarre as he was, she loved him dearly, and made a point of walking a tad faster than normal just to ensure she was home a slight faster than she otherwise would have been.

“Belle!” Cried her father as she crossed the threshold of their apartment. Her dad was an artist, and thus every wall of their studio/flat was decorated in acrylics and watercolours, designed in some abstract, contemporary way that could have easily passed as a mess. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, and he stumbled eagerly out into the hallway like an excitable monkey. His head was balding, and he wore a thin layer of greying stubble along his chubby jaw; and though he was a relatively portly gentleman, he had begun to look younger and healthier since moving to America.

“Yes dad?” Annabelle chuckled, cocking an eyebrow at her father, whom was equally as painted as the rest of their shoe-box home. He had paint smeared along his face, and stained on his clothing, but then when didn’t he?

“Come see,” He frantically waved a white and blue hand at his daughter, and ushered her eagerly into the living room area, which often doubled as his gallery. There, leant against a beam in the centre of the room, was a painting that was in the process of drying. It was of the seaside, a candy-cane-coloured pillar in the distance on a cliff and seagulls flying across the canvas. It was stunning, amazing and refined, and despite her father’s odd tendencies, Annabelle was always in awe of his talent.

“Its brilliant dad,” She gushed, staring at the familiar scene. That was the view from her bedroom window, in their house back in England, and to this day Annabelle could picture it vividly; her father had worked wonders to try and recreate that exact image. “Are you taking that one tomorrow, too?” She looked at her father with faint interest.

He was to speak with a gallery owner about publishing his work tomorrow, leaving Annabelle home alone for the weekend.

“I think so,” He smiled sweetly down at her with a glimmer in his eyes, and then ticked to another thought, “how about take out for tea, to celebrate?”

Giggling, Annabelle nodded, not at all concerned as to what exactly her father intended to eat, but simply happy to see him so excited and like himself again.

Her mother had died last year, from cancer, and since then her father had not been healthy, nor happy. He’d hardly painted at all since then, nor had he slept much, or even left the house more than once a week to tend to their garden – which had been Annabelle’s mother’s favourite feature of their home. It was only when Christmas came about that he decided a fresh start was in order, and hence rushed him and his daughter to New York as quickly as he could. That had been a few months ago when that decision was made, and by now he seemed a lot better. Annabelle only hoped he would stay that way.

“I’ll see you in a couple of days, sweetheart,” Her dad smiled sadly, as Annabelle said her goodbyes. They stood on the pavement outside their apartment building, a taxi pulled up to the curb with her father’s belongings already loaded into the back. “Be good, ok?”

“Dad, I’m an adult. I will be fine.” Annabelle laughed at his concern, looking forward to a couple days of peace in her home before her dad returned next week. “See you soon.” She pecked his cheek quietly, and stepped back. She watched him drive off until he rounded the corner, and decided then to go back upstairs. She didn’t know, exactly, what she would be doing with the place to herself, but knowing her tendencies it wouldn’t fail to be something entirely boring and unimaginative. Though that was, at least for her, fun; without anyone to have as company, reading and watching TV was the only fun she had these days.

“Annie?” Called a voice from behind her front door, later that day. Annabelle had sat herself, comfortably, on the sofa, and was in the process of watching Pride and Prejudice when this unexpected guest startled her.

Sighing deeply, she wondered to the door purposefully, and swung it open to reveal the incredibly smug and ignorant face of a classmate.

“I told you not to call me that,” She barked bitterly, just about ready to slam the door in his face. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping you’d consider reading lines for him; you can be my Juliet?” He winked. Jackson Pierce was the most arrogant, egotistical, misogynistic and narcissistic bastard Annabelle had ever had the misfortune of encountering. He attended university with Annabelle, and though he was majoring in the Dramatic Arts, she had still been forced to meet him through her English studies. Because of his silk-gold hair, and angular facial features, every girl Annabelle could think of swooned over him and his ocean blue eyes, but not her. Perhaps that was why she was deemed as weird, but then she had much higher expectations than a fling with a hot guy at college, and thus could not care less what anyone thought of her and her decisions.

“I’m busy.” She stated bluntly, hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible, without him worming his way into her flat.

“Really, doing what?” He propped his head up with a broad grin, which was practically begging to be slapped off.

“That, I believe, isn’t your business.” Annabelle pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Goodbye, Jackson.” And with that, the door closed. She physically shuddered once the lock clicked shut, hating being within close proximity of him, because it was highly likely she would catch something off him, even from a distance.

That was the kind of boys she was exposed to at university, and not so surprisingly she had no intentions of having much to do with them beyond her course required. Jackson Pierce, among others, was not going to be the boy to ruin Annabelle’s first experience of America, and she was not the type of girl that would stoop to wanting to date him for social benefits. She wanted a real love. A love like the ones in her books. A love worth fighting for.

What did you guys think?